10 American Luxuries You’ll Mourn—And Why That’s Okay

10 Absurd American Luxuries That Will Be Missed (and a Few Weird Wins That Might Win You Over Anyway)

Moving to Italy is the dream, right? Sunlight on stone, wine that costs less than water, two-hour lunches, and ancient ruins just chilling next to the parking lot. But somewhere between your third espresso and the realization that yes, the post office really does close for four hours in the middle of the day, the fantasy starts to warp a little.

No one talks about the weird, petty grief that comes with giving up the comforts of American life—the stuff that felt normal until it suddenly wasn’t.

So here it is. A guide to the things you’ll miss when you move to Italy. None of them are dealbreakers. But some might surprise you. Others might make you cry in a Carrefour parking lot.

1. Ethnic Food, Especially Sushi (But Also Anything Spicy, Saucy, or Curried)

Italy does many things better than the rest of the world: gelato, bread, and complaining about the weather with elegance. But food diversity? Not its strong suit.

Outside of a few major cities, asking for sushi is like asking your grandma for cryptocurrency advice. You’ll find something labeled “Asian Fusion” that’s actually a chicken teriyaki panino with mayonnaise and a slice of iceberg. Indian food tends to be suspiciously sweet. Chinese menus often feature ingredients like “crema di formaggio” or “wurstel.”

There are no late-night tacos. No Thai basil with proper heat. And don’t even try to explain kimchi. Italy has 20 regions, each with a fiercely guarded cuisine. That’s the diversity. You’ll get five different types of pecorino and exactly zero tamarind-based anything.

2. Buying in Bulk (Or Buying Like the Apocalypse is Always an Option)

Americans have a deep, primal love for bulk shopping. It’s not just convenience—it’s identity. Giant packs of toilet paper? Yes. Twelve cans of soup you’ll never eat? Absolutely. A lifetime supply of dishwasher pods? Why not.

Italy doesn’t do this. Grocery stores are small. Pantries are smaller. Unless you live near a suburban hypermarket, shopping means grabbing just what you can carry in two hands and a reusable bag that’s already starting to fray.

3. A Shower That Feels Like a Hug, Not a Punishment

Most Italian apartments have beautiful bathrooms—until you actually try to use them. The showers are designed like someone took a phone booth and said, “Now let’s make it smaller.”

There’s no bending. No stretching. No full-body rotation. Washing one’s feet becomes a high-risk maneuver. Washing anything below the belt becomes… intimate. You will eventually develop a kind of acrobatic grace. It won’t feel graceful.

And then there’s the water pressure. Some places offer a gentle misting. Others have two settings: freezing fog and hellfire, with nothing in between. Either way, the tank runs cold just as you’re working up the nerve to shampoo.

4. Window Screens (Why Are Bugs Welcome and I’m Not?)

Italy loves fresh air. Windows fling open without resistance. Balconies are everywhere. But screens? Apparently too modern, too tacky, or too American. They simply don’t exist.

Want airflow? That’s fine. Just prepare to share your living room with mosquitoes, flies, and possibly a lost seagull. You’ll start burning citronella like it’s an offering to the gods. You’ll become weirdly strategic about when to open the windows and how fast you can slam them shut.

Eventually, you’ll miss screens the way Italians miss punctuality. Passionately, but with quiet resignation.

5. Breakfast That Doesn’t Feel Like a Punishment

In the U.S., breakfast is the one meal where people really let themselves go. Pancakes the size of hubcaps. Bacon in questionable quantities. Eggs in six styles. Avocado toast. Coffee served by the quart.

In Italy, breakfast is sweet, light, and over before you’ve even fully woken up. A croissant and a one-ounce espresso, maybe a second if you look like you’re struggling. Asking for scrambled eggs will get you a polite smile and an espresso refill. Asking for anything with syrup might get you added to a government watchlist.

Protein is for later. Enjoy your sugar and caffeine, and try not to faint before lunch.

6. Customer Service That Pretends to Like You

In America, even when it’s fake, customer service is a full-contact sport. Retail workers are trained to smile, sympathize, and offer solutions before you’ve even finished your complaint.

In Italy, customer service is more of a neutral spectator. You approach the counter. They look up slowly. You ask a question. They shrug, maybe wave vaguely at a shelf. The answer is often, “No, we don’t have that,” even if it’s right behind them.

It’s not rude. It’s just unbothered. The energy is: “Why are you making this complicated? Just go home.”

7. Amazon Prime That Actually Primes

In the U.S., clicking “Buy Now” is a sacred act. A promise. It means that by tomorrow morning, whatever nonsense was needed—lip balm, a power drill, or 100 feet of LED lights—will be waiting on the porch.

In Italy, Amazon Prime is more like a casual suggestion. Delivery windows span days. Tracking is poetic rather than practical. Sometimes it says the package was delivered when it clearly was not. Sometimes it’s handed off to a neighbor named “Cliente.” No one knows who that is.

Eventually, every online order becomes a test of faith.

8. A Dryer That Works Without Weather Conditions

Italian laundry is an outdoor sport. Clotheslines, drying racks, balcony banisters. There are dryers, but they’re rare, expensive, and judged by landlords as decadent and wasteful.

Towels dry stiff as boards. Jeans stay damp for days. If it rains for a week, so do your socks.

Eventually, there’s a weird pride in mastering the art of slow drying. But on the first few chilly mornings, while toweling off with what feels like a saltine cracker, it’s hard not to feel betrayed.

What you give up vs. what you gain. Choose wisely.

9. Errands That Take Less Than a Day

In the U.S., one trip to Target can solve half a week’s problems. You walk in for toothpaste, leave with shampoo, birthday candles, and a new phone charger.

In Italy, finding those three things could mean visits to the pharmacy, the tabaccheria, the ferramenta, and maybe the open-air market if the moon is in the right phase.

Most stores close for hours in the middle of the day, and not all of them are open when they say they are. It’s not shopping. It’s a pilgrimage.

10. Streaming Without a Degree in VPN Engineering

Streaming services abroad are like moody exes. Just when you’re ready to relax and revisit a favorite show, half your library vanishes. Hulu doesn’t work. HBO Max is iffy. Netflix turns into an alternate universe with no warning.

Without a VPN, it’s slim pickings. And even with one, the effort to get it all working will require tutorials, YouTube videos, and a healthy sense of humor.

If nothing else, it’s a good excuse to go read a book. Or stare at a wall. A very charming, old, possibly crumbling wall.

But Then There’s the Weird Stuff That’s Somehow Better

Bidets. At first, they’re intimidating. Then they’re intriguing. Then suddenly, nothing else feels clean.

Public restroom stalls with doors that go to the floor. Real privacy. No weird inch-wide gaps that turn bathroom trips into accidental eye-contact horror stories.

Aperitivo. Not happy hour. Better. A glass of wine and a plate of snacks that might actually replace dinner. No pushy server. No $18 cocktail with a name like “Cilantro Envy.”

Daily bread that doesn’t come in plastic. Fresh eggs with actual flavor. Milk that expires in two days, and should.

Silence at night. Churches ringing the hour. The man at the market who knows your name and your cheese preferences.

Convenience is great. But so is rediscovering what life feels like when it isn’t scheduled to death and shipped overnight.

Some things will be missed. But what replaces them might just be stranger, slower, and surprisingly… satisfying.

Even if the towels are a little stiff.

Think you’re ready to trade Costco for crunchy towels and hot dogs in your sushi? Don’t just romanticize the move—get real about it.

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