Let me introduce you to the marocchino

Note: this post has been migrated from my former blog “Parliamo dell’Italia – una ragazza fortunata a Perugia.”

I discovered something fantastic this weekend. I thought my life was complete when I bought Nutella stuffed Cap’n Crunch at the Ipercoop the first week I was here. And then I thought it couldn’t get more perfect when I tried my first bomboloni. But then I was introduced to the marocchino. I was at lunch in Milano and had just eaten a fairly average panino when I answered yes to the fashion insider sitting next to me when she asked me if I wanted a coffee. The next thing I knew a small coffee was presented in front of me: smaller than a cappucino, bigger than an espresso, and with an evidence of cocoa powder. I was told that this was a marocchino – espresso whipped with milk and chocolate. It was delicious.

I then spent the rest of my weekend in Torino trying a marocchino at every coffee bar in the city, convinced that they only existed in the North. I bet you think it can’t get better from here … well you are wrong. It does. Sunday morning I almost died for the first of 2 times in a matter of 24 hours (the 2nd was when I read that the Broncos beat the Patriots in OT). I ordered a marocchino before hopping a train back to Milano and the woman did something amazing: she lined the glass with Nutella. And then made my marocchino. Greatest. Thing. Ever.

So now that I have spent two paragraphs talking about coffee I guess I should share about the rest of my weekend.

My Friday field trip was to Milano and the city was awesome – giant, intense, and even more overwhelming than NYC, but really cool. We were given a tour from a woman who was once the editor of GQ: Italia. I have never seen someone give such rapid fire once overs to a group of 12 the moment we walked up the stairs from the subway. I was forever belittled by one set of eyes because I was wearing a cardigan. But this is the woman who gave me the gift of the marocchino so I hold no resentment.

After a tour of the most famous fashion district in the world and a few other neighborhoods of the city, my roommate and I took the 2 hour train to Torino (which actually took 3.5 because we broke down). We got in late, checked into our hotel, and then had the man at the front desk tell us where to go for dinner; he led us toward a cheesy risotto so we loved him from that point on.

Saturday we visited the Museo Egizo (largest Egyptian museum outside of Cairo) where the mummies are still gooey (so cool!), the national cinema museum, a park, chocolate shops, and more coffee bars. And then we had the greatest meal of my life: agnolotti: braised lamb stuffed ravioli in a creamy mushroom sauce. I will be content for the rest of my life because of this meal.

And now I am getting bored because I have included way too much detail in this post. So I am going to go now and maybe pretend to pay attention to my EU Politics professor. But if you have learned one thing in the last few minutes, let it be this: get up, get up now, immediately, and RUN to your nearest coffee shop. Demand a marocchino. And if they don’t have one continue toward the airport, fly to Bologna, and I will take you to get one, because, oh hey, guess what, the new coffee bar I tried this morning had them on the menu : )

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