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,... After they move to Torino, Anna's job is probably: A. a stay at home mother B. a postman C. a professional chef D. not enough information
A

A beautiful, sexy redhead sat across from Greg Tenorly. He was nervous about the closed door, but she had insisted. The slightest hint of impropriety would spark a blaze of rumors. Greg tried to concentrate on her story. But his mind wandered to his 34-year-old receding hairline and bulging stomach. The part-time music minister had been feeling good about himself ten minutes ago. Time to start exercising again. "I grew up in Marshall. Graduated from East Texas State, and got a job at a bank in Greenville. Three years ago, I moved here so I could be closer to Mom. She still lives in Marshall. I met Troy at a high school football game. He was fun, down-to-earth. We've been married for two years." Cynthia Blockerman was a vice president at First State Bank, yet only in her late 20's. She certainly looked the part, dressed in an expensive brown business suit, matching shoes and tasteful jewelry. And her shoulder-length hair was the kind you only see in shampoo commercials. Greg felt underdressed in his faded golf shirt, baggy slacks, and generic running shoes. "Everything was fine for the first six months or so. But I guess he was just playing the part of a good husband. Then I started to see his real personality. As soon as he gets home from work, he goes straight for the beer. By nine, there's a pile of cans next to his recliner, and he's calling me names, and throwing things. "Sometimes he hits me. He did it one time before we got married, but he said he was so sorry. And even broke down and cried. He promised he'd never do it again." "Is there anything in particular you say or do that seems to set him off?" It was a dumb question, but the only one he could think of. "No. It doesn't matter. I can be extra sweet, or mean, or just ignore him. He still gets mad and crazy. I don't know what to do. I want to leave him, but I'm afraid he'll come after me." When did Cynthia meet Troy? A. While in high school B. After she got her job at First State Bank C. not enough information D. After graduating from college
A

The Transylvanian city of Brasov is usually just a day trip from Bucharest. People spend maybe an hour or so to wandering around the town square, and buy a drink before hopping back on their transport back to the capital city of Romania. But, thanks to an epic tip-off from the travel ninja Shikha at Why Waste Annual Leave and a few other Brasov devotees, instead of following the crowds, we booked a couple of leisurely nights there. At the end of our day trip, instead of returning to Bucharest and getting stuck in the Sunday evening traffic, we checked into our hotel and waved our guide off. Yes, you can easily 'do' Brasov in an afternoon it's a popular stop off at the end of a day trip after visiting the "home" of Dracula Bran castle, and the beautiful Peles castle but having the leisure to linger was exquisite. In addition to trying local dishes, we also ate lunch at McDonalds. Yes, yes, as a blogger we shouldn't pretend to eat anything other than caviar washed down with champagne and unicorn tears, but we were hungry and couldn't be bothered to find somewhere. (For the record, we both opted for a Big Mac and a diet coke.) For the first half day, we wandered around whilst the skies were beautifully blue learned a lot of local history, admired the Hollywood style sign in the hills slipped into a couple of churches (not to mention dodged giggling kids racing around on miniature cars) some hidden, and some hidden in plain sight and admired the sign from our cosy hotel, as it lit up at twilight Our only full day dawned fairly murky for the most part, it was a Sunday so a lot of things were closed, so after hitting 20,000 steps and getting lost a few times in the less pretty corners of the city After the end of the story, the author is probably: A. hungry B. not enough information C. jetlagged D. tired
D