Usually when an actor arrives on set, they put in their breakfast order with the second AD （who runs the base camp where all the trailers are set up） and is then sent into hair and makeup to get ready. Many an actor in many a makeup chair has gobbled down many a breakfast as a poor makeup artist tries to daub foundation on a masticating jaw and bobbing Adam’s apple while politely ignoring the sulfurous stench of the actor’s hard-boiled eggs. It is also in the makeup trailer, an oasis of sorts for actors, where one can be assured of getting the best cup of coffee on set, because most makeup artists outfit them with good coffeemakers. However, just in case, I always bring at least two Nespresso machines the first day I start a job: one for the makeup trailer as a communal font of caffeine, and one for my own trailer, as I will often be trapped in there for hours on end and I want a good coffee when I want one.
As each country has its own cuisine, each film caterer in any given country will serve versions of its traditional dishes. Here are a few examples:
A Very English Breakfast: The UK
In my newly adopted home, fried eggs （often cooked in lard）， sausages, bacon, baked or stewed or fried or steamed or whatever tomatoes （yuck）， baked beans, and porridge are a staple of every film set breakfast. Sausage “baps” are also always on offer. These are sliced brown or white buns layered with sausages （usually Cumberland） and sometimes an egg. The “bap,” meaning the bread, is usually rather dry and not very tasty, but if the sausage is of good quality this heart-stopping breakfast is hard to resist. I actually had to make a concerted effort not to eat one every morning working in England years ago because the project was to last almost five months and I thought if I continued wolfing them down, I might not live to complete the film.
There is not a great deal of importance put on craft services in England, unless the budget is substantial and/or an American studio is producing the film. Otherwise all that is available is a “tea table,” tucked away in a corner of the set with an urn of hot water, a box or two of tea bags, milk, sugar, some paper cups, and a few packages of digestive biscuits. Wonderfully understated, almost quaint, and very British.
Anomalous Lunches: Italy
The first time I filmed in Italy, I was very excited because, well, as I have made abundantly clear, I love Italy. The film was based in Rome, where I was able to eat great meals every night and on my days off. However, the catering on set was more than disappointing. For a nation that prioritizes food over just about everything and has informed the world’s palate with its cuisine perhaps more than any other country, it puts no importance whatsoever on catered meals for films. I guess the reason for this is that, depending on location, whenever the cast and crew are able, they simply go out for lunch. Catering is always available for those crew members with limited time or an actor whose costume or makeup prohibits them from dining in public, but otherwise anyone who can eat elsewhere does so.
The only thing that makes Italian set catering bearable is that wine is always served. When one of the assistant directors asks an actor what they would like to eat for lunch, they simply say, “White or red?” If the response is “White,” the actor will receive an entrée of chicken or fish. If it is “Red,” then red meat is served. These meals will be brought in a Styrofoam container with four compartments, one for the entrée; one for a starch, which is usually a pasta; and two for vegetables or possibly a salad, along with a small bottle of wine, the size you get on airplanes. To be fair, a lot of these meals are passable, but they’re hardly inspiring, especially when one knows that close by, a plethora of brilliant restaurants are serving up some of the best food in the world. Yet, as disappointing as these lunches are, the on-set breakfasts are even worse.
Italians do not have a big breakfast culture. They don’t eat eggs and meats like most of Europe, England, and America first thing in the morning. They have espresso or cappuccino but they prefer something sweet rather than savory with which to start their day. The morning caffè will most likely be accompanied by a cornetto （a sweet croissant） or a palmier. In Rome, pastries overflowing with obscene amounts of whipped cream or deep-fried cream-filled sugared doughnutlike sweets are often eaten. In Sicily, a brioche bun split open and filled with gobs of gelato is what passes for breakfast. I have tried all of them, and as I don’t really have a sweet tooth or a death wish, I find them all rather unappetizing, especially first thing in the morning.
But breakfast on an Italian film set offers no such treats and brings the lack of interest in film catering to an even darker place. There is no catering truck. There is no toaster. There are no “baps.” There is a table, on which sits a tray of low-grade supermarket cornetti and a smattering of small focaccia sandwiches containing a single slice of either ham, prosciutto, or salami. Beverages go no further than a few cartons of warm orange juice and an urn of “espresso” （or a thin and highly acidic version thereof）， both of which are to be drunk out of flimsy plastic cups. If call time is after ten a.m., bottled beer is also served. That’s it. Tragic for a country that is a culinary oracle.