ROME, ITALY

This wasn’t right. I studied the case of croissants and fruits through the thick glass, scanning the room for any indication that I was in the right place. The screech of lattes and scent of coffee filled my nose, as sleepy Italians chatted amongst themselves and waited patiently in line before ordering their morning coffees. Thinking I had I wandered in the wrong door, I backtracked and double-checked the sign perched above the threshold. I saw the familiar arches and the scripted McCafe lettering, and realized that somehow, this was in fact a McDonald’s.

            I followed a wide hallway, drifting away from the crowded coffee bar with its Italian style espresso machines, and decorative walls covered with words like “macchiato” and “invigorate.” I emerged in a tiled room where familiar signs cast a yellowish glow on empty countertops and zeroed in on my goal: hash browns. It was clear that the locals preferred the impressive coffee bar, especially considering that not a single one stood in line at the food counter. I wondered why McDonald’s offered the classic American menu options when the Italians only flocked to pastries and breakfast muffins.

            As I took my place in line, I checked Google Translate and mentally practiced the phrase for eggs and bacon: uova strapazzate e bacon con pane. Did Italians even eat eggs and bacon? Is my breakfast going to be better quality than my McDonald’s in Nashville? I looked up, preparing to approach the counter when I saw the other American students already placing their orders on massive touchscreens. With a sigh of relief, I joined them. It was way too early in the morning for me to speak Italian anyways.

            I slid an oversized plastic tray to my friend Kaylie, and we walked off to sit in one of the cushioned booths. There were plenty of open seats, especially since every Italian seemed to take their coffees to-go. We noticed a staircase extending to the bottom floor of the restaurant­. I laughed to myself, thinking how unnecessary this extra space was when the restaurant could barely fill a dozen tables. I laughed again when I tasted my breakfast. I might as well have been sitting in Nashville, because the eggs and bacon in this Italian McDonald’s tasted no different.

My visit to this Italian McDonald’s showed me that though it has some of the familiar US menu options, it was an entirely different dining experience. The atmosphere was refined, the customers fast-paced, and the coffee bar an almost stylish setting. Though some may think of McDonald’s as one of the quintessential examples of an American fast food chain, it’s possible that in Italy it’s something even better.