Italy has the best food ever. It’s a fact! From the pasta to the pizza, everything is fresh and bursting with flavor. You can literally smell the deliciousness wafting through the streets, and every bite is a reminder that food here is made with so much love and care. The pasta is homemade, the sauces are rich and aromatic, and the pizza… don’t even get me started. But as much as I adore Italian food, there’s one thing I’ve been seriously missing while I’ve been living here for the past two months: a good ol’ cheeseburger.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I am all about Italian food. Fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, rich olive oils, and perfect pasta; it’s like a food lover’s paradise. But let’s be real—sometimes, a girl just needs something familiar. I talk to my friends back home in America, and they’re all telling me about their DoorDash orders—McDonald’s, Domino’s, Chinese takeout, and Subway sandwiches. And honestly? I get jealous.
In Italy, where food is so healthy and fresh, my host family makes sure everything we eat is balanced—lots of vegetables, fresh ingredients, and good-for-you meals. It’s great, but sometimes… I just want something greasy. A cheeseburger, you know? Something that isn’t a fancy salad or a gourmet Italian dish. Just a burger with all the fixings, crispy fries, and that irresistible taste.
So, when I went into Rome for an adventure, I stepped off the train and wandered down the street, only to spot a Five Guys Burger place. The heavens opened up, and I swear, I heard angels singing. My stomach growled. And right then, I promised myself that no matter what happened in Rome that day, I would not leave the city without having a cheeseburger.
After walking around for what felt like hours (six hours to be exact), my group was finally taken to the Hard Rock Café for lunch. And what do I see on the menu? Cheeseburgers. I’m not kidding. My friends from the CIEE Abroad Program couldn’t understand why I was acting like I’d just won the lottery. “Why are you so excited about a cheeseburger?” they asked. I just smiled and said, “I haven’t had one in over two months! You have no idea how good this is going to be!”
When the server brought the cheeseburger to the table, it felt like time slowed down. My heart was racing like I was seeing my favorite celebrity, but no— it was just a cheeseburger. A perfect cheeseburger. The bun was toasted just right, the cheese was perfectly melted, and the patty was juicy and tender. I couldn’t wait. I took my first bite, and let me tell you, it was heavenly. It was everything I had missed: salty, savory, and delicious. I made sure to savor every single bite—chewing like my mom always tells me to—30 times per bite (yes, 30!).
To some people, it might just be a cheeseburger. But to me, that moment was so much more. It was a taste of home, a small slice of America. It was that little piece of comfort that I didn’t realize I was missing so much. It was the connection to the life I left behind, and for just a few minutes, I felt like I was back at school in the States, hanging out with my friends.
So, yeah, it’s the small things that matter. And sometimes, those small things are cheeseburgers.
Till my next cheeseburger… Ciao!
Zoe
