Eataly in Italy

Today I missed my first train. I watched it glide out of the station like a breeze as my awkwardly heavy back pack cut into my shoulders with each bounce as I lurched through the station at a graceless sprint. Bummer. But it's the first one I missed in a month so I'd say I'm doing ok. The next train to Viterbo wasn't for another hour so I poked around the station and when that got boring since everything was closed on a Sunday I decided to meander over to my track and wait for the train. Making it there with my 40lb back pack was a chore and I was already slightly winded and sweaty from my dash across the station. Each bench called my name but I was holding out for the 40 minute sit down I was about to enjoy. I climbed the last set of stairs up to track 14 and was just surveying my seating options when I beheld the most unexpected site- a giant Eataly sign. 

For anyone who doesn't know, Eataly is the gastronomic wonderland that pools together everything good, everything honorable, everything wonderful, everything authentic, but above all everything scrumptious in the world of food under one roof. And its all produced in Italy. As if the 'grocery' (and calling it grocery feels like a slap in the face since it is so far elevated above the sad run-of-the-mill blah we experience on a day to day basis), you can dine at one of the many, many specialty restaurants, cafés or bars located in each section. 

Of course as soon as I saw this sign my backpack felt like a cloud and my shoes were made for walking. I knew 40 minutes was no where near enough time, but I made the 1/4 mile dash under tracks and across the street to experience the throes of pleasure that only deliciousness can provide. 

This Eataly is 4 levels, but I only had time to make it through one. I have to admit that I was a little surprised at just how New York it all felt. Having frequented the one in NY it's scarily similar, but I guess that's what you get with a chain. Even the prices were the same, still eye watering, except here you pay in euros, not dollars. I guess importing the items half way around the globe doesn't actually add much of a mark up. Overall, because you can buy such delicious ingredients at what seems to an American to be such ludicrously low prices in towns all over Italy, Eataly actually felt kind of like a big farce, or at the very least, extremely redundant. However, that's not to say I didn't enjoy gorging on samples and ogling all the chocolates immensely. 

I'm still planning on visiting the original Eataly in Torino when Jordan arrives in -eee!- 15 days but I'm glad I got the shock out of the way of feeling like I am back in NY. Just look at that Berkel!!! Yay food!