The Italian Paradox

Italy’s claim to being the greatest of the world’s cuisines has one key weakness: breakfast. But, argues John Irving, there’s more to the story than first meets the eye.

- John Irving

It’s 7.45am and I’m just back from my daily espresso at La Cantinetta, the bar downstairs from my apartment in Bra, near Turin. Later, if atavistic cravings kick in, I’ll likely have something more substantial: a bacon sandwich, say, or a bowl of porridge. A “proper” breakfast in homage to my childhood in the north of England – though minus the cod-liver oil they used to force on us.

The punters at La Cantinetta, on the other hand, are grabbing their prima colazione. A combination of coffee of some kind – espresso, cappuccino, caffè macchiato, coffee with a drop of milk, latte macchiato, milk with a drop of coffee – and a pastry (a brioche or a cornetto, or a croissant). The “full Italian” – a couple of items wolfed down in a bar on the way to work.

In 2015 the Doxa market research agency conducted a poll in collaboration with AIDEPI, the Association of Italian Confectionery and Pastry Industries, which campaigns to improve the nation’s breakfast habits. It showed that 87 per cent of Italians always have the same things for breakfast and that a large portion of them do so on their own, in a bar.

Under my balcony, schoolkids are making a beeline for the bakery on the corner to stock up on focaccia for their mid-morning break. They may already have had a bite to eat at home: bread with Nutella or jam, yoghurt, biscuits, fruit, milky coffee – what hotels would call a continental breakfast, but nothing as specific as what people are having at La Cantinetta.