Il Maritozzaro

Sunday morning, breakfast at Maritozzaro in Trastevere. Fair warning: parking is a nightmare.

The place is your classic old-school Roman bar, straight out of the '70s, nothing fancy aesthetically speaking. Cramped inside, cardboard boxes scattered about, little tables spilling onto the street. In short, not the spot you'd bring a date for a first impression. But then again, we weren't here for the décor.

The maritozzo, though—that's the real deal. Has to be said upfront. The dough is soft without being too soft, baked to perfection, and you can tell it's genuine Roman pastry-making. Two euros and fifty cents for the large one, which is a fair price. The cream is fresh and good, though honestly they could've been a touch more generous with it. But overall, it's crafted with care, and there's a reason people rank it among Rome's best.

We also tried a pan gocciole. Yeah, let's just skip that one. Dry, tastes like it's been sitting there a while—the kind of thing that's barely a step above industrial. Probably doesn't move many units, and it shows.

The coffee is fine, not burnt like you often get in Rome, but nothing special either.

The staff are proper Romans with that rough-around-the-edges warmth that might throw you off if you're not used to it, but they're genuinely friendly.

Worth going back? If you want a real maritozzo, absolutely—that alone makes the trip. Everything else, eh. Three euros a head for breakfast—you can't complain.