There are very few nations that boast about their cuisine as much as the Italians. It doesn’t matter if you're talking to a guy in a Carhartt jacket at a wine bar in Milan, an old lady at a street market in Palermo, or a group of students you met at a Roman university: the topic of food will always tiptoe its way into the conversation. Personally, I've heard "So, you like Italian food, eh?" or "I can teach you how to cook the real carbonara" on my Hinge dates so frequently that I've lost count.

I remember the first time I invited an Italian friend over for dinner. We decided to cook pasta carbonara (typical, I know). She was absolutely flabbergasted that I didn't own a food scale. "But how else do you know how much pasta to cook?" she asked. She was equally surprised that I only had plain table salt instead of proper granulated sea salt. To her surprise, we managed to eyeball the pasta quantity, and my boring salt worked just fine. I decided not to shock her further with the Russian carbonara secret: the common use of heavy cream. I figured her world had been shaken enough for one evening.

The bottom line is that for Italians, food is their greatest pride, rivaled only by their art, perhaps. The rules are non-negotiable: pasta must be al dente, a cappuccino is only consumed before 11 a.m., and putting pineapple on pizza is definitely a cardinal sin.

For Russians, Italy's strict food rules can seem a little silly. We're used to the freedom of 'breakfast all day' menus and endless coffee variations like maple syrup lattes and banana rafs (concepts that are practically unheard of in Italy, by the way). We like to experiment with our food, while the Italians stick to their long-running traditions.

For Italians, the food is always the main event. They are largely unconcerned with Pinterest-worthy cutlery, uniquely furnished spaces, or designer menus. In fact, if you find a trendy restaurant in the heart of Rome, you'll notice it's rarely packed with locals. True Italian cuisine isn't meant to be enjoyed on a vintage leather couch; it's best experienced at a small table covered with a slightly-too-old checkered tablecloth, where the only thing that matters is the perfect Amatriciana on your plate.

Ultimately, there's no right or wrong way to eat. There are only different cultural perspectives to appreciate. The real joy comes from understanding each one and discovering new ways to celebrate what connects us all: a love for food. So whether you're eating cacio e pepe at a Roman trattoria or drinking an espresso at 1 p.m. in Moscow, the most important thing is to savor every bite and every sip!