Lake Como Good value
Lake fish — perch with risotto, missoltini dried in the sun — and pizzoccheri from the valleys above, buckwheat pasta with cabbage and cheese. The lakeside restaurants price the view; one street back costs half.
What a visitor's money does in Italy: every guide rated from very cheap to very expensive, cheapest first, then the things that cost travellers money without buying anything — the ATM, the taxi, the SIM.
Euro (EUR) · 1 EUR = 1.15 USD · 1 EUR = 0.86 GBP
Euro country — no exchange needed from the Eurozone. Skip the change bureaus around Termini and the Spanish Steps, they take 10%+ in spread.
Avoid: Euronet, ATMs beside the Trevi Fountain and Termini
Use: Intesa Sanpaolo, UniCredit, BNL, Banca Sella
Look for the Bancomat logo — that is the Italian interbank network.
A short ride in Rome: €12–20 across town — pricey
From the airport: Fiumicino to central Rome is a flat €55 by taxi, and the Leonardo Express is €14
The app is the taxi. Uber Black is a different, dearer category.
Lake fish — perch with risotto, missoltini dried in the sun — and pizzoccheri from the valleys above, buckwheat pasta with cabbage and cheese. The lakeside restaurants price the view; one street back costs half.
Rustico leccese, a puff pastry of mozzarella and béchamel eaten standing; pasticciotto, a custard tart, for breakfast; orecchiette with turnip tops; and puccia, a bread pocket filled to order. Primitivo and Negroamaro, both from vines within an hour.
Orecchiette with turnip tops, bought from a doorway in the old town and cooked the same day; focaccia barese with tomatoes and olives; raw seafood at the port, which is a local habit worth approaching carefully; and panzerotti, fried and filled.
Matera bread, a huge sourdough with a protected name that keeps for a week; cavatelli with cruschi peppers, dried and fried until they shatter; lampascioni, wild onion bulbs; and Aglianico del Vulture from the volcanic hills north of the city.
The market under Palazzo della Ragione is the thing to see and the place to eat: sandwich bars in the arcade, cheese and salami upstairs. Bigoli pasta, boiled meats, and a spritz — which was invented up here and is drunk from about five o’clock in the afternoon.
Cecina, a chickpea flour flatbread sold by the slice; bordatino, a bean and kale soup with cornmeal; and the student cheapness around Piazza delle Vettovaglie, which is where the city actually eats. The sea is ten kilometres away and the fish is good.
Tordelli lucchesi, a meat-stuffed pasta with ragu; buccellato, a sweet aniseed bread eaten with strawberries; and farro soup from the Garfagnana. The olive oil from the hills here is among the best in Tuscany and sold plainly in the shops.
Piadina, which Rimini argues it does better than Ravenna; grilled Adriatic fish and fried moleche; and cheap enormous portions along the beach strip. The old town restaurants in Borgo San Giuliano are better and barely dearer.
Valtellina cooking, which is the best reason to be here that has nothing to do with snow: pizzoccheri, buckwheat pasta with cabbage, potato and cheese; sciatt, fried buckwheat cheese fritters; bresaola, air-dried beef from the valley below. And the wine is duty-free.
The food is Central European as much as Italian: jota, a bean and sauerkraut soup; boiled pork with mustard and horseradish at a buffet, which here means a particular kind of hot-meat bar; and coffee ordered in a vocabulary used nowhere else in Italy — ask for a nero, not a caffè.
Casoncelli, a stuffed pasta with butter, pancetta and sage; polenta with everything, including the sweet version shaped like a cake; and Franciacorta, the sparkling wine from the hills towards Brescia, which is worth ordering instead of prosecco.
Torta al testo, a flatbread split and filled, sold everywhere and eaten standing; strangozzi pasta with truffle from the Umbrian hills; and Perugina chocolate, made here since 1907, with a factory you can tour on the edge of town.
Umbrichelli pasta, hand-rolled and thick; wild boar; pigeon, which the tufa lofts were built for and which is still on menus; and Orvieto Classico, a white wine the town has made since the Etruscans and which is far better than its supermarket reputation.
This is the reason to come. Parmigiano Reggiano, made in the morning and best tasted at the dairy; prosciutto di Parma, aged in the hill air; culatello from the misty river villages, which is the rarer and better one; and anolini in brodo, the local stuffed pasta.
Tortellini in brodo, which Modena and Bologna both claim; gnocco fritto and tigelle, fried and griddled breads eaten with cured meats; zampone at the new year; and traditional balsamic vinegar, which is nothing whatever like the supermarket bottle and is drunk by the spoon.
Piadina, the flatbread of Romagna, folded round squacquerone cheese and rocket and sold from kiosks; cappelletti in broth; and grilled fish from the Adriatic at Marina di Ravenna. Sangiovese from the hills to the south.
Pesto, from here, on trofie with beans and potato; focaccia eaten at breakfast, dipped in cappuccino by locals; farinata, a chickpea pancake from a wood oven; and cima, stuffed veal, in the old trattorie. The fried fish paper cones at the port are a proper lunch.
The best street food in Italy and it is not close: arancine in Palermo (arancini in Catania, and they will argue), panelle, sfincione, and pane con la milza if you are brave. Cannoli filled to order and never before. Granita with a brioche for breakfast, which is the correct way to start a summer day.
Orecchiette with turnip tops, burrata from Andria eaten the day it is made, and raw sea urchin on the Adriatic side. The bread from Altamura keeps for a week. Puglia produces more olive oil than any other region in Italy, and the difference is obvious.
Risotto all’Amarone, made with the wine the hills behind the city are famous for, and pastissada de caval, a horse stew that is genuinely the local dish and worth knowing about before it arrives. Bigoli pasta with duck. The wine to drink with all of it is Valpolicella, and the bars pour it by the glass for a euro or two.
Pici, a thick hand-rolled pasta, with garlic or with wild boar; ribollita, the bread and bean soup; and panforte, which is a Christmas cake eaten all year. The wine is Chianti Classico from the hills north of the city, and Brunello from Montalcino to the south.
Umbrian and plain: strangozzi with truffle, lentils from Castelluccio, roast pork with fennel from a van in the square, and torta al testo. The restaurants on the main route are priced for pilgrims; walk two streets uphill.
Coniglio all’ischitana, rabbit stewed with tomato and herbs, which is the island dish and nothing to do with the sea; fish from the Sant’Angelo boats; and the white wine from the volcanic terraces, which is drunk young and locally.
Valtellina, and worth the trip on its own: pizzoccheri, sciatt, bresaola della Valtellina, and polenta taragna. The wine is Valtellina Superiore, nebbiolo grown on terraces, and it is one of the best things in the Italian Alps and barely known outside it.
The rule is simple: walk five minutes away from any monument before you eat. Order cacio e pepe, carbonara or amatriciana — Rome does pasta better than sauce variety.
Eat a lampredotto sandwich from a street cart — it is the real Florentine street food. For steak, bistecca alla fiorentina is sold by weight and served rare, no exceptions.
Sardinian food is its own thing rather than Italian: porceddu, suckling pig roasted over myrtle; fregola, toasted pasta pearls with clams; pane carasau, bread rolled thin as paper. Casu marzu exists and is illegal, and you will be offered it anyway. Cannonau is the red.
Pizza was invented here and the argument about where to eat it has no end. Sfogliatella for breakfast, a coffee taken standing, ragù that cooks for six hours, and the buffalo mozzarella comes from the plain outside the city.
This is where tagliatelle al ragù comes from, and it is never called bolognese here and never served on spaghetti. Tortellini in brodo is the winter dish that matters. Mortadella, not salami. Go to Osteria dell’Orsa or queue at Sfoglia Rina.
Not Italian food in any recognisable sense: canederli, bread dumplings in broth; speck, smoked and air-dried; barley soup; and apple strudel at the end of it. The huts serve all of this at altitude and close early in the afternoon, so eat before three.
Lake fish, which is worth taking seriously here: coregone, lavarello, and sardines from the lake cured and grilled. Olive oil from the northern shore, which is among the most northerly in the world, and Bardolino and Lugana from the southern hills.
Gnocchi alla sorrentina; anything with the local lemons, which are enormous and thick-skinned; provolone del monaco, the local cheese; and limoncello, which is made here and is worth buying from a producer rather than a souvenir shop.
The aperitivo was invented here and a drink still buys a table of food at six o’clock. Bicerin — coffee, chocolate and cream in a glass — agnolotti del plin, and the hills south are Barolo and Barbaresco.
Sicilian and confident: pasta alla Norma with aubergine and ricotta salata; swordfish; arancini; granita with a brioche for breakfast, which is the correct thing to do here in summer. Nero d’Avola and the Etna reds from the volcanic slopes.
Ladin and Tyrolean: canederli, turtres — fried pastry filled with spinach or sauerkraut — barley soup, speck and apple strudel. The mountain huts here are among the best in the Alps and they close in the middle of the afternoon, so lunch is early.
Trentino cooking: canederli, strangolapreti — bread and spinach dumplings — polenta with luganega sausage, and Trentodoc, the sparkling wine from the valley below, which is worth ordering instead of prosecco.
Do a giro d’ombra: hop between bacari bars for small cicchetti plates and a glass of wine. Cannaregio and around Rialto market are where locals do it.
Aperitivo is the local institution: buy a drink between 18:00 and 21:00 and the buffet comes free. Navigli and Porta Venezia do it best.
Ligurian food: pesto made with a pestle, trofie and trenette to put it on, and anchovies from Monterosso salted or fried. Focaccia here is thinner and oilier than the Genoese kind. The white wine is Sciacchetrà if you can find it.
Ampezzano and Tyrolean at once: casunziei, beetroot-filled pasta with poppy seed; canederli dumplings; polenta with game. The town is expensive and the huts on the Cinque Torri side are both better and cheaper than the restaurants on the Corso.
Lemons the size of a fist, and everything made from them — delizia al limone above all. The pasta here is scialatielli with seafood, and the mozzarella comes from the plain behind Naples that morning. Eat away from the seafront in Atrani, which is a five-minute walk from Amalfi and a third of the price.
Ravioli capresi, with caciotta and marjoram; the insalata caprese, which was invented here and is a different thing made properly; grilled fish; and the torta caprese, a flourless chocolate and almond cake. Anacapri is noticeably cheaper than Capri town.
Expensive on the harbour and no better for it. The seafood is good — anchovies from Monterosso, trofie with pesto, fried fish — but the same plates cost half as much in Santa Margherita fifteen minutes away, which is where to eat and sleep.
The cost rating is this site's own, for a visitor, from the guides' authors and the corrections readers send in. The general rules — the conversion prompt, shoulder season, the airport taxi — are in budget travel tips.