Florence at night, Christmas

Tuscany — it’s impossible to say it without sighing romantically, impossible not to envision ridges of Cypress trees, rolling hills of grapevines and olive groves, fields studded with bougainvillea-covered farmhouses. Even in winter, Tuscany is still supremely beautiful. The grapevines are bare, their shapes starkly human. Fog-filled valleys reveal themselves in layers in the angled light of the winter…

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We’ve all heard some version of when not to eat an oyster. Don’t eat them in months without an R! Or is it ending in an R? Or is it said like a Pyrate — with an “ARRRRR?” Even I have trouble keeping it straight, but here’s the general logic:  Since oysters reproduce in the…

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