I recently commented on how difficult it is to export a local experience to another country. Yet, it can be done, at least to a good extent.
We had been up since 3:30, thanks to serious jetlag, and still had time to kill before we could start calling the artisans we wanted to visit. What a better way than a nice breakfast to kill time?
We set out to find a nice place and I was eyeing all the coffee shops with Italian sounding names, but none of them were open that early. Luckily inside the subway entrance we found a Segafredo outpost that was open and that spelled everything correctly, including shakerato and macchiatone.