Antonia threw up her hands at the sight of us, but she didn't bandy about giant ice blocks, so this was already miles ahead of last time. "Allora. Come."

She led us into a huge kitchen painted a cheery yellow. Braided strands of garlic hung to dry on one wall and a neat row of small ceramic planters held a variety of herbs on the windowsill.

A bowl of bright lemons sat on the counter next to a pile of partially rolled out dough.

Antonia opened her freezer, ...