Sign of the Times Read Online Free PDF

cleared away and Sig.a Tagliaferri struck up conversation with Holly, whilst she served the primo , ravioli di zucca, in a creamy pumpkin sauce.
    Holly explained the reason for her stay.   The signora was impressed and asked Holly if she had written any other books.    Holly relayed to her some of the anecdotes in her first book, Secrets of the Neapolitan Riviera . She told her how happy it had made her writing about a subject so close to her heart and about a people she held in the highest regard and how much fun she had had in the process.
    She recounted the wine tastings, sipping home-made grappa and limoncello for the first time, savouring bistecca alla fiorentina for the first time.   At this Sig.a Tagliaferri wailed that that was what they were having for their secondo and went on to enumerate the qualities of the high Florentine cut.   Fortunately, Holly liked her steak medium, so she was looking forward to it, if she didn’t completely fill up with this amazing ravioli.   She adored pumpkin.   She smiled as she remembered Tom attempting to make pumpkin pie.   Not known for his culinary skills, he was determined to make the perfect pie for Holly, since she was always cooking for him.   Holly had entered the kitchen and seen her fiancé surrounded by an assortment of pots, pans and plates, looking harassed.
    ‘I’ve made an absolute mess of this.   Do you want to get a Chinese?’ he had asked.
    Holly had managed to salvage the ingredients and handed Tom the pumpkin and a knife and asked him to carve her a Halloween lantern, in exchange for dinner.   The pie had turned out to be mouth-watering and she had frozen the leftovers, so Tom would have something to live on during the week.   He was hopeless and would live on takeaway if he could .   Likewise, the lantern had turned out to be an artistic masterpiece. They both had their strong points, Holly reflected.   Snapping back to reality she realised that Guido and Emilio were telling their mother about the four old men she had spotted playing chess.   She was thankful that her temporary lapse in concentration had gone unnoticed.

    Emilio asked Holly of her plans for the coming days.
    “I thought I’d go to Poppi castle and possibly La Verna to see the monastery.   There are a lot of connections to Cardinal Dovizi around here. I’d like to include that in my book.”
    “So, do you write stories about your travels or do you write travel guides, places to see, to stay, that sort of thing?” Guido asked.
    “No. I write stories about my experiences and about the culture of each place, traditions, history and how understanding it all has impacted me,” Holly explained.  
    “So, will we be in your book?” Emilio asked eagerly.
    “Possibly.”
    “Oh please,” he begged.
    “I haven’t even started my research yet,” Holly laughed.
    “We’ll help, won’t we, Mamma ? Guido?”
    “ Certo ,” came the reply.
    Holly assured them they would be mentioned in her book, although not necessarily by name.
    “If I need help, I know where to come.”

    The bistecca fiorentina was heavenly. Holly licked her lips, as the signora carved a piece for her.   It didn’t ooze blood, but it was pink.   It was so succulent and melted on the tongue.   This is why she ought to live in Italy, thought Holly, for the food alone!   Dario came unbidden into her thoughts, but she immediately banished him.   Sig.a Tagliaferri asked Holly if she liked the fichi d’India . They were certainly very unusual, Holly thought, like fried courgettes and she had really enjoyed the first one, but two was enough.   They were a bit bland.   The grilled vegetables; sun blushed tomatoes, red onions and baby mushrooms were perfectly cooked.   Holly never could understand how she, a good cook, could never get her Mediterranean veg to taste quite like those she ate in Italy. She used olive oil, the same spices and preparation methods, yet some vital ingredient, seemed to be