Pasticceria Bar Romoli

Sunday morning, Rome. One of those places people have been telling you to visit for months, and you finally do.

Bar Pasticceria Romoli is a classic Roman bar, no frills: no tables inside, maybe six or seven cramped ones out on the sidewalk. If you're in a large group, well, you'll have to make do. But there were plenty of people anyway, with the sound of little plates clattering into the dishwasher and a double line at the counter — one for coffee, one for pastries. Sunday morning in Rome is like this, and there's no arguing about it.

The maritozzo. Dense but soft dough, baked perfectly, cream that's not overly sweet. Very good. Among Rome's best? Yes, absolutely. If it's *the* best, I couldn't say — you'd have to hit them all — but it's definitely up there.

The Gabriella, though — that's the surprise. It's a Danish pastry, comes with cinnamon or chocolate. We got ours straight from the oven, and you can taste the difference: flaky, warm, with cream and chocolate chips melting together. Pure indulgence, end of story.

Oh, and there was the savory stuff. I mention it because I'm from the north, and finding a decent salty breakfast in Rome before ten is nearly impossible. But here: little pizzas, tramezzini, rolls. The little pizza was good. That's saying something.

Nine euros for two. Nine euros.

Will I go back? Yes, but on Sunday, arm yourself with patience at the counter.