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About Genoa

She’s shocked, eyes wide—didn’t expect that, did she? Me neither, if I’m honest. “Yer a mad one,” she says, and I’m grinni’n, all proud. Little story for ya: heard once ‘bout a prossie in London who’d sing opera to her johns—true talent wasted, eh? This one don’t sing, but she’s got fire, and I like that. We finish up quick, no fuss, just business—my precious night sorted. “We resist!” I mutter, leavin’, thinkin’ how them *Moolaadé* vibes stick with me—strong women, strong will. Prossie or not, she’s got her own fight, don’t she? Makes me wonder, precious, what’s her story? But I’m off, hammer waitin’—another day, another nail.

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But then, one of the kids kicks the ball too hard, and it smashes into a window! Oh man, the look on that kid’s face! Pure horror. The owner of the shop, Signora Bianchi, comes storming out, waving her arms like a madwoman. I’m cracking up, but I feel bad for the kid. I mean, it’s just a window, right?

Fish and Red Wine? Yes, You Can: 10 Bottles That Break the Ultimate Pairing Taboo. Luca Gardini Reveals Them Here.