The vaulted room that once served as the cellar under Pompey's Theatre. (Courtest Da Pancrazio)

ROME, ITALY -- “Et tu, Brutei?”

Caesar’s legendary—albeit imagined--last words ring from his lips and into the annals of history as he crumbles on to the steps of Pompey’s theatre.

A triumphant leader felled by the conspiracy of a few in an instant that would change an empire.

Like so many, I was drawn to the Eternal City to appreciate the thousands of years of cultural and architectural glory thrust upon it by the likes of Caesar himself.

The flavors of the city were also an appetizing lure and it would soon become obvious why the local cuisine has long been a favorite among food critics and connoisseurs alike.

So after only a few days in Rome and in defence of a strict daily budget, I tired of pizza slices and mortadella sandwiches.

I wanted to sit on the thrones of the Caesars, feel the majesty of the ancient quarter and, most importantly, eat like a Roman.

My travelling partner and I combed a restaurant guide in search of Rome’s culinary treasures. A listing of average prices saved these two budget-conscious travelers wasted cab fares and a selection of restaurants a career change away from affordable. Eating like a Roman can be expensive, we quickly learned.

But we still dreamt of the gastronomic delights that lay mere delicious steps away from our taste buds. Thankfully a local was able to help make our dreams a reality.

One morning leaving the three-star hotel that had become our temporary home, we asked the desk attendant named Marco to recommend a restaurant where we could taste authentic Roman dishes.

A smile branched across his olive-toned face.

“I know a place,” he said. “It is called Da Pancrazio and it is in the Piazza del Biscione. It is very special.”

A phone call distracted Marco and left us questioning why this place was worth a visit.

Nonetheless, we accepted his advice and after a long day of sightseeing, made our way to the piazza in search of the restaurant.

The exterior of Da Pancrazio. (Chris Atchison/ITD)

Our cab dropped us in the famous Campo de’ Fiori under an ebony Roman sky, heels clicking on the cobblestones underfoot as scooters buzzed passed by only centimetres from oncoming cars and disaster. Roman precision and impatience seem to merge to instill in riders a sense of indestructibility on their bikes.

We moved on through the ancient streets that today house the bars and citizens of Rome, just as they did over 2,000 years ago during Caesars’ triumphant reign. Walls here are weathered by invasions, wind, rain and time, but still ring alive with the smells and sounds of this metropolis.
 We turned a corner past a couple of buskers attempting to belt out their favourite song in English, but poor translation and tin ears guaranteed these guys a lifetime of day jobs.

Just ahead we saw the dimly-lit sign for Da Pancrazio. Like half of Rome, the building which houses the restaurant was under restoration. It looked —and is -- old, like most others in the city.