The Italian Lesson [Installment 17]

Chapter Three, Conclusion

“Can I get you some grappa?” I asked after we got upstairs.

“Oh, no. That stuff is vile. I’ve never understood how an otherwise intelligent country can be fond of something that tastes like lighter fluid.”

“That is exactly the right answer,” I laughed. “Beatrice gave it to me—and she’s the only one who drinks it.”

“What else do you have?”

“Check in there,” …