There's a story in my Tuscan family of nobility and forbidden love. It's set in Taranto, Puglia, on Italy's southern heel and involves my daughter's great-great-grandmother. The best known version is told by my husband Marco's uncle, Riccardo, who remembers it being told to him by his elderly Nonna Anna herself. Anna Michela Comasia Maria Calianno. Her long name was a sign of her family's noble status. She was born in Taranto, Puglia, in 1889, into a wealthy, well-educated Tarantine family of physicians, surgeons and landowners. One day, by chance, young Anna answered the door instead of the butler. There was Nicola Cardellicchio, the postman. He came from a poor family of bricklayers and wool spinners, raised by a single mother. "He was no adonis," noted Nonna Anna. Nicola was rather short and stocky, but she liked him immediately. She continued answering the door whenever the postman passed. When Anna's mother, Girolama, noticed her daughter's growing interest in the postman, she forbid her to see him again, threatening to disown her. So Anna did what any lovesick girl would do: she ran away, eloping with Nicola. The couple had nine children in Taranto Mario, Marco's grandfather was born in the middle of the First World War but times were very hard, and they moved north to Torino to look for work. Nonna Anna was perhaps not an instinctive cook. I wondered whether she ever had the possibility to learn how to cook. Her grandchildren, Angela (my mother in law) and Riccardo, remember her only ever making lesso (boiled meat) and these polpette, which became variously known in the family as "sugo di nonna Anna" and, oddly, "amatriciana" (which is actually a different recipe, a chilli-spiked sauce of fried guanciale and tomato to coat pasta). But these polpette plump meat balls, cooked slowly in tomato sauce, a very traditional dish from Puglia were passed down to Anna's daughter in law, Angela's Tuscan mother, Lina, who made them so often for her own family that she in turn taught her daughter in law,... Question: Who tried to stop Anna and Nicola from being together? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Girolama
- The postman
- Franca
Girolama
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KEY WEST, with its scattering of 19th-century wooden homes, is one of the few places in Florida where an 80-year-old building isn't far and away the most ancient manmade structure in town. Even so, the La Concha Hotel, built in 1925, is certainly the largest historical building on the island that's still being used for its original purpose. At all of seven stories, it would scarcely qualify as a boutique hotel in a big city, but for this island it served as a skyscraper. The three of them walked into the marble-floored lobby, instantly chilled by the hotel's powerful air-conditioning (one of many post-1920s updates in the building, along with the computer reservation system and the Starbucks franchise). Winston peered around the crowded room, focusing in particular on a tall, gaunt man wearing a black suit and top hat and carrying a gnarled wooden cane. The dark stranger was ushering a gaggle of camera-wielding tourists out the side door and into the hotel's driveway. "Ghost Tour," Paul explained to Winston. "They walk around town, and the guide tells tales. It's fun." "It does sound interesting," said Winston, chuckling. "We've been trying to get a piece of that," said Chloe, "But the owners are pretty stubborn. It would be a nice compliment to Paul's fake seance racket." "You perform fake seances?" Winston asked Paul. "Not unless I have to, no. But I... what's the word... oversee a couple who do. Sometimes I step in and lend a hand if one of them is sick." In fact, Paul had written the original scripts and come up with the gags and tricks the performers used to put on their little show. Once he'd perfected it, he'd recruited two actors to do the nightly ritual and handle all the details. It provided a small but steady revenue stream for the Crew, and their hidden cameras sometimes picked up other useful information as well. Question: What is probably true about Paul? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- He is a scammer.
- not enough information
- He doesn't like Chloe.
- He is interested in ghosts.
He is a scammer.
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The next morning I called up my friend, Nick Unger, who worked for the police department. He agreed to meet me at the Casbah, a glorious little dive bar a few blocks from my apartment. It opened first thing in the morning, realizing the best drunks start early. By the time he showed up I was already deep into my third drink and trying charm the bartender, Maggie, into comping my fourth. I was failing miserably as usual, but at least it was fun trying. As soon as Nick walked through the front door, I slammed my palm down on the bar top. "Tricky Nicky! Have a drink, brother!" He slid onto the bar stool beside me and smiled warmly at the bartender. "Has this low life been giving you grief, Maggie?" She grinned at him. "Only since I opened the front door." Nick winked at her and ordered a half-pint of stout. "Pansy," I scoffed and slammed the rest of my whiskey. He shook his head. "God I miss you, you mad bastard. I can't imagine why Andrea won't let you come around the house anymore." I shrugged. "I know, it's like as soon as she started squirting out brood, she suddenly gets all uptight about people starting fires in the middle of your living room." "Imagine," he said as he raised his glass of beer. I clinked my empty glass to his. "So guess who I ran into last night at Jenny's wedding?" He shrugged. "Brian Lopez." He chuckled. "No shit. How is old Double-Dip?' "Fat and sad," I replied while waving Maggie over for a refill. "And married to a smoking hottie. Well, married or engaged or whatever." Nick nodded. "I met her. They were at a Police Union dinner around the holidays. She's a butterface." I arched my eyebrow. "She had a face?" Maggie rolled her eyes while she filled my glass. Nick caught her glance. "I know, he's got no class, but what are you gonna do?" "Anyways," I continued, "she's way too hot for him, and that's not gonna end well. You just know that one of these days he's gonna come home and find her with the pool boy or some shit." Question: Why did Maggie roll her eyes? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- She thought the narrator was being clever.
- not enough information
- She thought the narrator was being sexist.
- She thought the narrator was incoherent.
She thought the narrator was being sexist.
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