Traveling Well in Italy: Part One - Rome
My husband Michael and I took our first trip to Italy this summer to celebrate my 40th birthday. It’s a trip I’ve been wanting to go on for years, and like any trip abroad, it came with unforgettable adventures as well as curveballs that required us to adapt. I like to stay active on vacation and I have to eat gluten-free, so I experienced Italy through a particular lens. I’m excited to share my experience with you so you can plan your own trip that has just the right balance of health and indulgence.
Normally I plan our vacations, but since this was our first trip to Europe, we worked with HC Travel to arrange our hotels and tours. Our first stop was Rome, where we stayed at the Westin Excelsior. The hotel’s baroque style—crimson wallpaper, heavy drapes, and sparkling chandeliers—felt more opulent than the clean minimalism I usually prefer, but it perfectly suited its historic setting on Via Veneto. The Excelsior has a fascinating history, having served as a military hospital during World War I, a military office in World War II, and even a movie set for La Dolce Vita. It’s also known for its connection to Kurt Cobain’s tragic final days. Despite its grandeur, the hotel was quietly tucked away, within walking distance of iconic landmarks like the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain.
Day 1 - Arrival in Rome
Dinner at Angolo Dell Aurora
After more than 30 hours of travel, we arrived in Rome with just enough energy for a short walk before dinner. We stumbled upon Angolo Dell Aurora, where I was thrilled to find gluten-free pasta on the menu. I ordered pasta with clams, one of my favorite dishes, and enjoyed a heavenly evening on their breezy, beautiful patio. Unfortunately, my excitement was tempered when canker sores appeared later, a likely sign of cross-contamination. And so began my trial-and-error quest for truly gluten-free meals in a country where gluten reigns supreme.
Day 2: The Vatican & Campo de' Fiori
Breakfast at the westin excelsior
The next morning, we indulged in the Westin’s giant breakfast buffet, which was described as “American” but far exceeded what we’d consider an American breakfast in the states. Most mornings in Rome, my plate featured scrambled eggs, roasted tomatoes, arugula drizzled with olive oil, sliced potatoes, and creamy Alpine yogurt. Meanwhile, Michael delighted in towering stacks of pastries—custard-filled croissants, airy donuts, and other flaky-crusted gluten bombs I could only envy from across the table.
Though I love the taste of coffee, I usually stick to decaf at home to avoid disturbing my sleep, so I wouldn’t call myself a coffee connoisseur. But jet lag demanded a caffeine intervention, and I was eager to experience authentic Italian coffee. On our first morning, I poured thick, rich coffee—I assumed espresso—from a gleaming silver pot at the buffet and topped it with frothy milk. The result was heavenly and set a high bar for the rest of the trip.
Touring the Vatican
After breakfast, a driver arranged by HC Travel whisked us away to our half-day tour of the Vatican. Of all the places we visited in Rome, the Vatican was the most visually stunning. While most people associate it with Michelangelo’s breathtaking frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, I found myself equally captivated by other elements: the interplay of sunlight and shadows on Gian Lorenzo Bernini’s intricate architecture, the magnificently detailed mosaics underfoot, and the overwhelming grandeur of it all. The Vatican is immense—we saw only a fraction of it—but it’s undeniably a must-see in Rome. You don’t need to be religious or a history buff to be profoundly moved by its beauty and significance.
Cafe snacks & Gelato
After four hours of touring the Vatican, we returned to the neighborhood of our hotel for a snack break. We wandered into a nearby café, where a chatty British woman on the patio enthusiastically recommended I order a plate of assorted meats, cheeses, and fruit. Trusting her advice, I bypassed the menu and asked the woman at the counter for salami, mozzarella, and a few slices of the juicy cantaloupe displayed in the case. She gave me a look that could only be described as perplexed, but five minutes later, she delivered exactly what I’d requested—along with a massive slice of bread perched on top.
This was my second gluten misstep, as I hadn’t explicitly mentioned my allergy, and I soon realized that in Italy, bread often comes automatically with meals. Not wanting to make a fuss, I carefully picked around the bread, savoring the edges of salami and cheese and the untouched cantaloupe. Michael happily polished off the rest. Despite the hiccup, the melon was a revelation—easily the juiciest, most velvety cantaloupe I’ve ever tasted.
On our way back to the hotel we passed Excelsior Gelateria and had to pop in for authentic Italian gelato. I ordered one scoop of the custard flavor and one scoop of stracciatella (chocolate chip, but better) with whipped cream. It was everything you’d imagine it to be, and stracciatella has officially become my favorite gelato flavor.
Campo de' Fiori
Back at the hotel, Michael snuck in a nap while I hit the gym, fitting in a strength training session and a four-mile walk on the treadmill. By late afternoon, we were ready to explore again, so we took an Uber to Campo de' Fiori. It turns out that Ubering in Rome is as easy as in any major U.S. city.
Campo de' Fiori charmed me immediately with its cobblestone streets, ivy-draped alleys, and quirky independent boutiques. I sampled authentic limoncello for the first time—a sharp, zesty liqueur that packed a punch. Many shops also offered limoncello cream, a milky, milder version with less alcohol, which I found even more enjoyable. We meandered through the neighborhood, taking in the street art and lively atmosphere, until our hunger led us to Mercato Hostaria, a restaurant overlooking the main square that served gluten-free options.
Dinner at Mercato Hostaria turned into an experience. The waiter seemed impressed with Michael–directing all his questions to him and at one point flexing his biceps and growling as if to demonstrate that he, too, was a macho man. This reminded me of the reactions Michael received in Cabo San Lucas, where passing straight men would engage in some kind of masculine camaraderie by flexing and nodding in approval. Also, unlike in the U.S. where it’s common to place the bill in the center of the table, this and nearly every other server in Italy handed it to Michael by default.
Machismo aside, though, when the server learned I had a gluten allergy, he came out with a gluten-free menu and a special green placemat that designated my gluten-free status, suggesting this place took food allergies seriously. My meal—mussels drenched in garlicky, salty butter with crusty gluten-free bread (easily the best GF bread I’ve ever had) and a gluten-free Peroni beer—was the highlight of my trip. Simple, satisfying, and bursting with flavor.
We lingered for hours, watching the square come alive. Locals walked their dogs, tourists sipped wine, and vendors launched glowing light-up darts into the night sky. I bought a romantic sundress with ruffles, which if you know me, is nothing like anything I’d buy in the states. But…when in Rome.
Day 3 - Roman Forum, Jewish Quarter, Trastevere
The coffee situation at breakfast took a turn that morning—gone was the rich espresso from the silver pot, replaced by what seemed to be “Americano,” or regular drip coffee, with less-than-foamy milk. While I was confused and a little disappointed, the cheese selection on the buffet made up for it: creamy brie and a mild, hard, white cheese that paired perfectly with the morning spread.
Roman Forum and Colosseum
After a quick breakfast, we met our driver and headed to the Roman Forum, where our guide spent four hours leading us through ancient ruins, including the Colosseum. It was surreal walking through remnants of a world that predated Jesus. And while the Roman Forum wasn’t as visually stunning as the Vatican, it was steeped in fascinating history. As a combat sports enthusiast, I was particularly intrigued by learning about the gladiators, although I think we were sold a romantic story of prisoners who could win their freedom by agreeing to train and fight in the Colosseum, which is not quite the full picture of the gladiators. That said, history isn’t my passion (that’s Michael’s department). I came to Italy for the culture, coastline, and food, so as soon as the tour ended, my mind turned to lunch.
Jewish Quarter
My cousin Catherine recently studied abroad in Italy and had shared recommendations from her professor, including a tip to try fried artichokes in the Jewish Quarter. Following her professor’s advice, we asked our driver to drop us off there. I consulted ChatGPT for gluten-free options and was directed to Ba’Ghetto for gluten-free fried artichokes. What followed was a comedy of errors.
The first Ba’Ghetto we stopped at was a breakfast café with no fried artichokes of any kind. The host told us there were multiple Ba’Ghettos (not confusing at all) and pointed us toward what I thought was an adjoining bistro of the same name. Seated at a table, I asked the waiter about gluten-free fried artichokes, only to be told they didn’t exist. When I asked what was gluten-free, his one-word reply was “chicken.” It was then that I looked at the menu and realized we were actually at a restaurant called Renato Al Ghetto. So whatever, we both ordered the chicken and potatoes and our food was delicious, and we met a family from a place near my hometown in Ohio—a small-world moment in the heart of Rome.
After lunch, we wandered over to what was apparently the Ba’Ghetto bistro. Determined to solve the artichoke mystery, we asked about gluten-free fried options. The waiter informed us they could only prepare Roman-style artichokes gluten-free. What arrived was essentially a giant boiled artichoke. Long story short, ChatGPT lied to me, and I have no real evidence to suggest there is such a thing as a gluten-free fried artichoke in the Jewish Quarter of Rome.
Back at the hotel, I hit the gym for a workout and rewarded myself with a relaxing sauna session while Michael took a quick snooze. Then we were out on the town again.
Trevi Fountain
Catherine’s professor had many other recommendations for places to visit in Rome, and instead of picking one and enjoying a casual evening, we decided to hit them all in a day. Our first stop was the Trevi Fountain. Stunning as it was, the fountain was surrounded by a sea of people. A friendly stranger instructed us to toss in a coin with our right hands over our left shoulder. Or was it left hand over right shoulder? Either way, I found it unusually kind that someone in such a chaotic, jam-packed setting would take the time to notice that we were tourists and explain how to correctly toss a coin in the fountain, with no expectations of personal gain.
Spanish Steps
Next, we walked to the Spanish Steps, an iconic staircase built in the 1700s to connect the Trinità dei Monti church with Piazza di Spagna and the Spanish Embassy to the Holy See. From the top, we were treated to a breathtaking view of Rome as the sun dipped below the horizon. Yet, the true highlight of this stop was my time inside Trinità dei Monti. I’m not particularly spiritual, but something about the church moved me. It was completely silent, with candles flickering in memory of the dead. As with most historical buildings in Rome, the architecture and sculptures were hauntingly beautiful. It was just…still, a quiet haven amidst the shoulder-to-shoulder streets of Rome.
Trastevere
After nightfall, we hopped in a cab to Trastevere, a graffiti-adorned, trendy neighborhood brimming with energy. It reminded me of nights spent in Chicago’s Wicker Park during my twenties—vibrant, eclectic, and packed. And when I say packed, I mean uncomfortably so, with throngs of young people filling every corner. For dinner, we found a spot at Mama Eat, a restaurant that can recreate everything on its main menu gluten-free in its separate GF kitchen. I ordered the Pistacciosa, a gluten-free pizza with pistachio cream, caciotta cheese, pecorino Romano, fiordilatte cheese of Campania and mortadella slices. Michael got the Napul’e pizza with crumbled sausage, provolone cheese of Campania, parmesan and broccoli rabe with garlic and chili pepper. His looked more appetizing—I was not a fan of my mortadella and picked it off, but the pistachio cream was tasty.
Teatro e Cioccolata
After dinner, we wandered the lively streets of Trastevere, taking in the street art, quirky bars, and charming shops. One stop, Teatro e Cioccolata, became a highlight. Tucked away in what felt like the world’s smallest and most adorable library, this bar-slash-chocolate shop had a whimsical vibe. We were greeted by a bartender reminiscent of Robin Williams’ Dr. Keating, but Roman—and with a dirty sense of humor. All the drinks were shots with sexy names served in tiny cups made of chocolate. I tried to order the Sadomaso (Absinthe in a chocolate cup) but Dr. Keating warned me that it was very strong. I settled on vodka instead of Absinthe and followed his instructions for drinking it. “No problem with size?” He asked before topping the cup with whipped cream and ordering me to tilt my head backwards and drop the entire shot in my mouth, cup and all. Because I’m oblivious, it took about three innuendos before I realized we were not getting lost in translation and his cheekiness was part of the schtick.
Exhausted by the carby dinner and feigned flirtation, we headed back to the corner to catch a cab, but not before witnessing a crowd of locals and tourists singing along with a street musician to decades-old American rock music. Michael says this was his favorite moment of the trip. People weren’t looking down at their phones, they were fully immersed in the here and now. There was an electricity in the air—a vibrant, palpable joy for life. Was everyone actually young? Or did their exuberance just make them seem young? It was impossible to tell in the blur of the moment, but one thing was for sure: in that fleeting moment, we were worlds away from the monotony of hurried protein-bar breakfasts, relentless Teams notifications, and evenings lost to glowing laptop screens that seemed to steal a bit of our youthful spirits every day.
Stay tuned for the next chapter of my trip, Sorrento!
