The Truth About Dining Out in Italy

"Oh my God! Italy has the best food in the world! We had the most amazing meals on our vacation last week!!” I hear this all the time, and admittedly, I’ve said it myself—about 20 years ago. Now, don’t get me wrong: the quality of food in Italy hasn’t declined, and yes, Italian restaurants still serve up some delicious dishes. My issue with dining in Italy isn’t the food quality; it’s the lack of variety. For the most part, there’s only one type of restaurant: Italian. And in many smaller towns, the menus are strikingly similar, offering the same appetizers (salami and cheese, Caprese salad, bruschetta), the same pasta or risotto dishes, and the same mains: chicken, pork, beef, with an occasional fish. As far as vegetables…good luck with that!

Now, that might not sound so bad, especially if the food is as tasty as everyone says, and it usually is. If you’re visiting Italy for the first time, or you’re there for a week or less, it can feel like culinary heaven. But for someone like me, after a few days of eating out, I start craving something lighter—like a salad that doesn’t involve tomatoes and mozzarella—or anything besides more pasta.

I live in New York, and I eat out quite a bit, sometimes as often as four times a week. My go-to spots? A mix: sushi, Indian, Thai, Mexican, New American, Middle Eastern, and yes, Italian. I also like to throw in the occasional exotic ethnic choice, like Ethiopian or Korean. The thing is, in Italy, unless you’re in one of the big cities, good luck finding anything non-Italian and even in the big cities its slim pickings. Sure, you might stumble upon a burger joint or a sad excuse for a Chinese restaurant, but that’s about it. If you want anything else, you’d better cook it yourself, which isn’t exactly an option for most travelers.

As a dual Italian-American citizen, I once dreamed of moving to Italy. But honestly? The lack of restaurant variety is a dealbreaker.

The dining scene in the U.S. has evolved so much since I was a kid in the '70s. Back then, American food meant burgers, a steakhouse, or a Jewish deli, and if you wanted ethnic, that meant Italian or Chinese. On top of that, most people ate at home—going out to a restaurant was a monthly treat, at best. But everything changed when two-income households became the norm, and the idea that “a woman’s place is in the kitchen” finally became a relic of our sexist past. People needed quick, convenient dining options, and TV shows glamorizing chefs and food stoked everyone’s curiosity for new flavors.

By the time I graduated high school in the mid-‘80s, I still hadn’t tried sushi, and I consider myself an adventurous eater. Fast forward 30 years, and my kids were eating raw fish by the time they were 3. And it’s not just the U.S. where this shift happened. Most of the Western world followed suit. England, once the butt of culinary jokes, now boasts fantastic food and a wide range of ethnic restaurants, just like the States. You can say the same about Scandinavia, Germany, Portugal, Spain, and even France (though that’s a story for another time). But somehow, Italy missed the memo. Why?

One word: rules. No country has stricter food traditions than Italy. Parmesan with seafood pasta? Over my dead body! Milk in your coffee after 11 a.m.? Fuhgeddaboudit!  And if you even think about cutting your pasta with a knife, you might as well be stabbing an Italian in the eye. A sushi restaurant popping up in a quaint Tuscan village is tantamount to the Vandals sacking Rome all over again.

In the U.S., we take our free market system for granted. If an ambitious immigrant wants to open a Thai place in the middle of Iowa, let the market decide if it works. But in Italy? It’s not that simple. The amount of bureaucratic red tape needed to open a business is enough to drive anyone mad. You need local, provincial, and federal permits—and that’s before you even get to the mafia, which is still very much alive and well in certain parts of Italy. If one person in the long chain of signatures doesn’t like your idea, well, your dream restaurant might be sleeping with the fishes, like Luca Brasi.

To be clear, I’m not here to bash Italian food. There’s a reason it’s the most popular cuisine in the world, and pizza has basically achieved sainthood. I love pasta as much as anyone. One of my fondest memories from high school is eating spaghetti marinara with my mother at 1am after returning from a night of revelry. My gripe is with the lack of diversity. After a few days in Italy, I’m scouring markets for lettuce and veggies just to make a DIY salad in my hotel room—my digestive system pleading for mercy after yet another carb-heavy meal with no roughage in sight. On longer trips, I start dreaming about sushi or a good taco.

So Italy, I beg you—loosen up a little! Let someone enjoy a cappuccino after lunch without making them feel like they just kicked your dog. Open the doors to more diverse dining options. The rest of the Western world has embraced multi-ethnic cuisine, and it’s a beautiful thing. Until then, though, my retirement plans? They’re set on Spain.