In the process of learning how to dance I discovered that I was dyslexic. I had never suspected having a learning problem, but suddenly the signs were there, unambiguously clear.

Consistently good at school, I had excelled in Italian, French, Latin and Greek, though I struggled with numbers and...

When I turned 50, I decided that I was going to give myself the gift of dancing. Of course, having grown up in Italy and seen every last cowboy movie, I too wanted to wear hats and boots and whooshing skirts, to gyrate to my heart's content, smiling at my...

When I married, life as I knew it changed radically. No more modeling, no clubs, basta to late nights out or sudden trips to exotic islands just to model a few flimsy high-fashion clothes. Instead, I moved to the countryside a few miles away from Rome, delighted to have...

"Come with me to Patmos," he urged me. "I've bought a house on the island and you'll be the first to see it. Spend August with me."

I snuggled close to him and closed my eyes. I knew he was dangerous but I wanted to be with him....

I have a confession: I'm obsessed, and it would comfort me to know that I'm not alone. I'm ridiculously fanatical about my kitchen stuff: pots and pans, skillets and Mokas, kettles and ladles, all that is metal and can be made to shine. I need my cooking implements to glitter...

One of my greatest passions is cooking. I love to plan dinners, even simple ones. It's like creating a poem or a symphony that will bring joy to me, the composer, and to those who'll sit around my table, my audience. They are the most important part of any culinary...

I grew up resenting the fact that, as a girl from a good family, I had so many obligations that didn't seem to matter when it came to my brother Paolo. To begin with, Paolo could wear trousers. Granted, they were horrendously short until he was a teenager and the...

In 1991 I traveled to China with my husband's family. My father-in-law had been assiduously courted by the Chinese Government and repeatedly invited to visit and meet with the Communist leaders, but for the rest of us, it was a first trip.

Our itinerary was dotted with exciting destinations:...

When I was 15 I was prone to fall in love, a little too promptly, with any young man who was introduced to me. There was an Ascanio, and then a Fabio, followed by Stefano and Pietro, there were Carlo and Giovanni, and also Jacopo. These young people all shared...

When I was a teenager, my beloved grandmother, Nonna Valentina told me: "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach." I smiled, but those words made little sense to me. I was already quite good in the kitchen, having begun at the age of seven as Emilia's apprentice....

In the seventies it took forever to get to Asia. A plane leaving from Italy had to stop first in Beirut or Athens and then New Delhi and Bangkok before landing in Haneda. The arrival was exciting. Italian pilots, particularly sensitive to feminine charms, would invariably invite me to sit...

As a 15-year-old I was a disaster, una frana as we say in Italian. Tall and thin, not even the barest hint of curves, long spidery legs and nondescript brown hair (described in my father's charitable words as ugly as spinach). I never stood a chance to be part of...

When I was sixteen I used to dance la quadrille. Doesn't that make me sound ancient? Who in the world does that anymore? Nowadays, when I talk about it, I see absolute incomprehension slowly blanket the faces of those surrounding me and I feel as if I were at least...

I had forgotten all about it until last November, when my novel was published and people started asking me questions. "Yes, I've been dancing for six years, and yes, tango must have been in my DNA..." were my standard answers. Then, suddenly, bent over the lectern from which I was...

Jane Austen and Tango

My husband Kimball and I are crazy about Jane Austen.

Together, we've probably seen every single movie of her books and have followed each and every one of the many television series. The mighty BBC has given us immense joy, time and again,...

I always thought it was the summer of 1956, but now I'm not so sure about it... Wikipedia, as a matter of facts, suggests 1958.

I only recall that I was a kid and that La Bamba was the big rage, even in my somnolent city. One could hear...

Two weeks ago I landed at Fiumicino, in Italy. Tired and cranky after a transatlantic flight, I proceeded to the baggage claim area, expecting a long wait for my suitcase. Rome's international airport -- a major destination -- is unfortunately infamous for its chaos. Last year even the mayor of...

When I was about five, we lived for less than one year in a Navy compound in Sicily. One day I found myself assembled, with many other little girls, in the immense Circolo Ufficiali, the Officer's Club. I was brought up in Tuscany by my grandparents in a tight-knit family...

"You need to do something to your hair." Walter stared critically at me, shaking his head.
"Gray, hmm ... not flattering. You're too young to allow yourself to look like this." His fingers shot up to touch my forehead, he lifted a lock and immediately let it go,...