Italy has a way of reshaping time. The mornings stretch longer, the meals unfold slower, and even the smallest details  (a swirl of espresso crema, a cobblestone underfoot) seem to demand your full attention. This summer, I took on Rome and the Amalfi Coast with two of my boys, and what began as a family getaway turned into one of the most vivid, joy-filled adventures we’ve ever had.

A Few Days in Rome: The Eternal City with Kids

Rome is impossible to describe without slipping into superlatives. Everything is bigger, older, louder, and more delicious than you remember or imagine. We spent our first few days getting lost on purpose, wandering past the Colosseum at golden hour, climbing the Spanish Steps with melting gelato, and ducking into churches that looked plain on the outside but glowed like treasure chests within.

Sure, we were in ancient, sacred spaces, but did that stop me from breaking into a little dance for the camera? Absolutely not. My boys filmed, cringed, and I proudly edited the evidence into a reel.

One of the best parts of our Roman stay was something I hadn’t counted on enjoying as much as I did (even if I held on for dear life): a sidecar tour of the city. It sounded quirky, and it turned out to be one of the most unique experiences we’ve ever had. The boys climbed into the sidecar, I hopped on the back, and off we went — zipping through narrow alleys, past fountains and ruins, our guide narrating stories that somehow made 2,000 years of history feel fresh and funny. It was Rome at street level — close enough to feel the hum of the city and wave at locals as they sipped espresso.

Oh, and another very family-friendly thing to do in Rome, though it’s not part of local history: their Harry-Potter themed Escape the Room experience. We booked an evening slot, so we could tour the city and get all of our other, more academic events in, before partaking in what turned out to be a super-unique shenanigans. We weren’t allowed to take the camera inside, but outside, right before we took the adventure on, I posed.

Osteria da Fortunata: The Best Pasta in Rome

Of course, no Roman memory is complete without the food. I’d heard whispers about Osteria da Fortunata, a trattoria where the pasta is rolled by hand right in front of you. We found one of their locations near Campo de’ Fiori, and it became an instant favorite.

From the outside, it looks like a rather unassuming place. That is, until you realize there’s a line formed around the block, and that you’ll unequivocally be standing in it, once you’ve tasted a meal at this place.

Inside? Pure sensory theater: the thump of plates hitting the tabletops, the smell of butter and pepper in the air, the sight of beautiful young nonnas-to-be, rolling tagliatelle with practiced ease. We ordered cacio e pepe and carbonara, and when that first forkful hit, the silky sauce clinging to fresh pasta, the sharp bite of pecorino, conversation stopped. Even my boys went quiet.

Later, back home, I discovered that Osteria da Fortunata has a restaurant in Miami, and my son and I hit the place up a few months back, when I flew down to settle him into his dorm. I wanted to see if the same soul, the same rhythm of hand-rolled pasta and slow simplicity, made it across the ocean. It had.

From Rome to Naples: A Slice of Heaven

After Rome, we rented a car and pointed it south, a brave choice given Italian traffic, but worth every mile. The drive to Naples was scenic and chaotic in that uniquely Italian way. We stopped for pizza, naturally, because how could we not in the birthplace of pizza?

The pizza in Naples is soft, charred, and alive with flavor. It was the kind you fold in half and eat standing up. But to my surprise, I realized that Culto Italiano, a small pizzeria back home in Bergenfield, makes pizza just as good. It’s that same balance of chew, flavor, and love in the dough. Somehow, a slice of Naples found its way to New Jersey, and I’ll never look at it the same again.

Also in Naples: getting introduced me to taralli, adorable little rings that look exactly like cookies. One enthusiastic bite later, I learned they’re salty, not sweet. Rookie mistake.

Sorrento: The Villa with a View

Our real vacation began when we reached Sorrento, where we met up with my husband and checked into a villa we found on Airbnb. It was perched high above the town, with a terrace overlooking the sea and Mount Vesuvius in the distance. Every morning began with espresso and that impossibly blue view, and every evening ended with a sky that melted from gold to pink to navy.

The best part? The villa didn’t break the bank (even if it looked like it did). It reminded me that you don’t have to stay in a five-star hotel to feel like you’re living in a dream. Sometimes, all you need is a terrace, a view, and the people you love.

The people I love, in a room with a terrace and a view:

We even came across a great marketing learning lesson while there, which I whipped up into a reel and posted (are you following me yet?? Here I am, on Instagram):

Lemon Groves and Homemade Pasta

One of our favorite experiences was a farm tour just outside Sorrento. We walked through groves of Sorrento lemons, the ones used to make the famous local limoncello. Our guide showed us how the fruit is grown, harvested, and used in everything from perfume to pastries. There’s something humbling about seeing where flavor begins – in the soil, in the sunlight, in hands that have worked the same land for generations.

We decided to join a cooking class in a nearby-ish town, after the incredible experience at a cooking class in the Azores, just a few months before,. . We kneaded dough, cracked eggs, and rolled pasta by hand under the guidance of a local “nonno” (is that even a word? I made it up, switching nonn-a to nonn-o because it was an older male Italian who taught us) whose energy was pure sunshine. My husband turned out to be surprisingly good at kneading, and the boys loved shaping ravioli. When we finally sat down to eat our meal (pasta with fresh tomatoes, basil, and a drizzle of olive oil made on-site) we were glowing. It wasn’t just delicious; it was ours.

Positano Dreams (and Reality)

No trip to the Amalfi Coast would be complete without Positano, that famous cliffside town that seems to spill straight into the sea. It’s every bit as stunning as the photos – pastel houses stacked like sugar cubes, boats bobbing on turquoise water, narrow alleys filled with linen and lemon-scented candles.

But it’s also crowded, especially in summer. By midday, the heat and the crowds were so intense that we decided one visit was enough. Still, it’s one of those places you’re grateful to see at least once. A postcard come to life.

Instead, we found our peace closer to home, spending two lovely afternoons at Sorrento’s beaches. The water was calm, the boys swam for hours, and I sat under an umbrella watching the sunlight dance on the waves. It was quieter, more personal, and exactly what we needed.

Reflections: Italy in Our Bones

When I think back on our trip now, what stands out isn’t just the beauty, it’s the way Italy invites you to slow down. You eat slower, drive slower (well, except in Naples), and live slower. Every meal feels intentional, every view worth pausing for.

Osteria da Fortunata taught me that food is an act of patience. The Amalfi Coast taught me that luxury is sometimes just lemon trees and laughter echoing off the sea.

Traveling with my boys, meeting up with my husband, and sharing meals that stretched for hours reminded me of something simple but essential: the good life – la dolce vita – isn’t something you find, it’s something you savor.