italian

This is an Italian book written about Luchino Visconti, who's a filmmaker I love, adore.

We batch out our Italian mixture, which is the base of the sandwich.

Do you like your Italian beef dry, uh wet, or dipped?

She's in a wealthy Italian home, gazing flirtatiously up at us as her servants in the background prepare her clothing for the day.

The fancy Italian restaurant can’t rescue the mood, the couple go home in a sulk, Dan sleeps on the sofa and the plans for the next day are cancelled.

This is written in English, this is written in Italian, so this one I can only admire and look at the pictures and hold it in my my hands.

In the late 1880s, political turmoil brought Italian immigrants to cities like London, Glasgow, and New York, where many took up jobs as street vendors selling licks of ice cream for roughly a penny each.