Anne vs. Food: Florence Round Two

Last weekend, we went to Florence again. Our first day, we did all the educational stuff - the Uffizi, the Academia, the Medici chapel, etc. Unfortunately, they don't let you take pictures of any of that. So, suffice it to say that all of that was really cool and amazing and I love my life.
That night, we were on our own for dinner. Because of the good reviews we heard from some of the girls the last time we were in Florence, we knew exactly where we were going for dinner: The Diner. Yes, a real American diner, complete with English-speaking waitresses and free pitchers of water.

CHOCOLATE CHIP PANCAKES

Let's pretend it didn't rain that day and make my hair really frizzy and weird in that picture. I went for the breakfast-for-dinner option and ordered my very favorite thing in the whole world, chocolate chip pancakes. It's been too long, CCP. I almost couldn't finish the three massive, delicious pancakes they brought me (the depressing thing is that this was probably fewer calories than my usual dinners with my host family). I couldn't even bring myself to feel bad that I was eating at an American restaurant in Italy. I eat authentic Italian food every single night - I kind of missed American food. We had a blast speaking really loud english, putting our elbows on the table, shamelessly taking pictures, guzzling our free water, eating the free candy, using the free bathroom, etc. We had a typical American restaurant experience, and I have to say it was just what I needed after more than a month and a half of suppressing my inner-American.
Going to the diner for dinner wouldn't have been that shameful - I mean, I think it's pretty understandable to be craving some good ol' American comfort food after such a long string of Italian meals. But the truly embarrassing part is that we returned to the diner for lunch the next day... Apparently the pancakes didn't hold me over for long. What I really needed was a hamburger.

Not just any hamburger - a BACON CHEESEBURGER.

Oh man. Finally, real bacon, not pancetta. This picture was snapped in the one millisecond I could restrain myself before shoving this delicious hunk of amazingness in my mouth, grease streaming down my hands. And let me tell you something about the Italians, they have magic potatoes. Like, their fries are better than in America. And that's the beauty of the Italian diner. Well, that and the fact that, like the other restaurants in Italy, you don't have to tip.