Traipsing Through Tuscany: A Piece of Americana In Florence

During our walk about Florence the night before, my friends and I decided that we would go to a very interesting food establishment the next day. There is a place called “The Diner” here in Florence – yes, Florence has a diner.

I am a big diner girl – I live in New Jersey where the diner is king. Give me a nice burger and fries and I will love you forever… I was really excited to get breakfast other than toast and peanut butter, which I am getting a little sick of. As I went to bed, I dreamed of big fluffy pancakes, drenched in maple syrup.

The big day dawned bright and beautiful – it was a perfect fall day, chilly, clear and sunny. We bundled up, pushed through the masses of tourists in the Duomo and finally arrived at The Diner.

The diner, of course does not look like a traditional diner. Yes, it tried to mimic the leather booths and tables but you can tell that you were in Italy (the walls were hot pink, which I thought was a great play on traditional diner red). We got a nice table outside and opened up the menu. I forwent a hamburger and decided to get French toast – I was dying for something that was hard for me to make myself on a normal basis. One of my roommates got an omelet and the other got pancakes. As we placed our orders, I looked around at the signs hanging from the door – they advertised American everything, ketchup, coffee, breakfast, etc. It felt like a piece of home in Florence (they had American brand ketchup which was awesome – ketchup is really different here in Italy).

Finally our food came and I looked like I was five years-old when my order was placed in front of me. I ordered French toast and hot chocolate. It seemed pretty non-descript but that was until my hot chocolate came out with about three inches of whipped cream and chocolate chips on top of it. It was very exciting!

The food was amazing and what made it unique was that it was American food with an Italian twist. My French toast was made with Tuscan bread – bread only made with water, flour and salt. The basically tasteless bread really let me appreciate the favors of the egg custard and cinnamon that are sometimes undervalued in French toast. Instead of a huge pitcher of syrup, I got a little carafe of it but also fresh raspberry puree, which tasted so much better than the syrup and was probably a lot better for me (plus the raspberries could have been local!). It was a fresh revision of American classics.

The rest of the day was full of relaxation and going out with friends… A perfect weekend!

Ciao!