Is it possible to visit Italy without eating ice cream and pasta? It is the land of the most outrageously delicious food in the world, in my opinion. In the USA, I’m gluten, milk, sugar, onion, and garlic free. In Italy I ate everything I wanted and was just fine, thank you.

I admit it, I’m a foodie; not just a foodie, I’m a foodaholic. I’m better than I used to be due to dietary restrictions which definitely makes me be more responsible for what I eat. Actually, I remember the days when I ate a box of pasta at a time. How and why did I ever do that?

On my first trip to Rome, my travel partner became extremely ill to the point where we were seriously wondering if we might have to call a doctor or go to an emergency room. We caught a cab, gave him the address we needed, and I asked him to first stop by the square that his reaction told me, he knew it well. He grinned from ear to ear, and for someone who hardly spoke English, responded, “You’re kidding, right?” He was aware my companion was ill and was shocked that I planned to stop for ice cream first before returning to our B&B.

“No, I am not kidding,” I said, trying to sound somewhat apologetic for the request, but I was determined, “please park as close as you can to the square and I will be as fast as possible, just keep the meter running.”

“Tre Scalini?” he laughed.

He knew exactly where I was going, running into the square to buy myself a tartuffo, a round ball of vanilla ice cream on one side with chocolate on the other, joined together with a maraschino cherry and slivered hazelnuts in the center, entirely encased in the most delicious chocolate shell ever. I was told by other obsessed eaters just like me that Tre Scalini, Piazza Navona 28, 00186 Rome, Italy is known for having the very best tartuffos. I just had to have one, or maybe two. That’s the smartest thing I ever did. I bought two, knowing he couldn’t eat one so I would probably have to eat both of them. It would be very rude for me to only buy one for myself and not even have one to offer him. 

I entered Tre Scalini to find it mobbed with people, five feet deep in every line. But, I had been in Rome for three days, and hadn’t had one yet. It was my duty to have one before leaving. I joined the crowd, pushing along with everyone else speaking every language in the universe. Initially I asked for one, then knew I couldn’t do it, and asked for another one. Fortunately, another excuse for eating both right away occurred to me, there wasn’t a refrigerator or freezer in our room; therefore, it was my duty and responsibility to consume both.

When in Rome, eat what they do: Tartuffo. I do think the second one tasted even better than the first.