Currently reading
Nigella Christmas: Food, Family, Friends, Festivities
Our Bodies, Ourselves: Menopause
Extra Virgin: A Young Woman Discovers the Italian Riviera, Where Every Month Is Enchanted
I'm bailing out of this one, a little more than halfway through. It's the tone, I think- two cute and arch English brats go live among the Italian peasantry. Isn't the Italian peasantry cuuuuuuute? And the first person plural narration is so distracting to me I can't get past it. We thought. We said. We felt. Are we fused at the brain, then?
