“Mary, did you have the cuccidati yet? I made them just for you. My mother taught me how. Her mother taught her. They have sprinkles… you like da sprinkles???”

He reached across the table and pulled a cookie tray closer to us. “Mangia,” he said.

“The figs and oranges come from Sicily.” He took one off the tray, looked at me - winked- and dunked it in his drink (which was scotch) and took a big bite.

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