Chapter 8
Rome. Present day.
“We are going,” Sira announced grandly, hands thrown up toward the living room ceiling, “on an olive ascolane mission.”
“I can’t eat fried foods,” answered Little lazily, peering up at her aunt. She was spread out on the couch, attempting to glimpse the television behind her aunt’s figure.
“I don’t think it’s legal to say that within the confines of this great nation, Little,” countered Sira, taking the remote out of Little’s hands and switching off the set. “And it’s certainly better than sitting here and watching TV. Not to mention that olive ascolane are the specialty of a city, Ascoli Piceno, which sits proudly in a region of Italy called Marche, which you have undoubtedly never heard of.” Little’s raised eyebrows implied that Sira’s assumption was inde
