In the sixth book in the series, Zia's secret ingredient takes Alfie and Emilia to an island famous for its surfing, luaus, and delicious food — Maui! There they dive headfirst into Hawaiian culture and discover the best sights, sounds, and tastes of the Pacific Islands.
Chapter 1
Alfie and Emilia stood in the middle of the kitchen. Emilia had her hands on her hips, and Alfie had his arms crossed over his chest. They scowled at each other. The overflowing trash can sat on the floor between them.
“It’s your turn!” Emilia cried.
Alfie shook his head. “No, it’s not!”
They stared each other down.
“Well, I’m not doing it,” Emilia finally said.
“Neither am I,” Alfie replied.
“Alfredo!” Emilia shouted, using Alfie’s full name.
Dad appeared in the doorway. “Quietare!” he said in Italian. “Quiet down. What’s all the shouting about?”
“It’s Alfie’s turn to take out the garbage, and he won’t do it,” Emilia said.
“I did it last week!” Alfie cried.
“No, you didn’t!” Emilia stomped her foot.
“Enough!” Dad held up his hands between them. “What’s gotten into you two lately? You can’t seem to get along for more than ten minutes at a time.”
Alfie and Emilia were silent as they stared at the floor.
“Alfie, pick up the bag. Emilia, go open the garbage can in the garage. You can do it together,” Dad said.
Alfie was about to protest again when he saw the serious look on Dad’s face. Dad was not messing around. Alfie sighed, picked up the bag, and followed Emilia into the garage.
“I know it was your turn,” Emilia whispered as she lifted the lid on the bin. “You’re just being a baby.”
Alfie rolled his eyes. Emilia could be such a know-it-all, especially now that she’d turned thirteen. She was only a year and a few months older than Alfie, but she liked to remind him of that fact every chance she got.
Alfie and Emilia stomped back through the kitchen and stood in the doorway to the family room. Dad had his back to them and was talking to their great-aunt Donatella.
“Maybe this is a bad weekend for us to go on our trip,” Dad was saying. “Those two just can’t seem to get along lately.”
“Nonsenso! Nonsense!” Zia Donatella replied, sweeping aside her long salt-and-pepper hair. “You and Arianna have waited ages to have a weekend away. You deserve it.”
“We have been looking forward to it . . . ,” Dad said.
“We’ll be fine here,” Zia continued. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“All right, we’ll stick to our plan.” Dad picked up his briefcase. “Well, I’d better get to work. See you tonight.”
“Arrivederci!” Zia called before turning to see Alfie and Emilia sulking in the doorway.
“Do you think we can all get along this weekend?” Zia asked. Alfie and Emilia nodded. “Good. Now, anything you want to do while your parents are away?”
“I want to play video games and maybe watch a movie!” Alfie said. “And we’re going to cook, right?”
“Of course!” Zia said. Zia was an incredible cook, and ever since she’d come to stay with the Bertolizzi family, she’d taught Alfie and Emilia some amazing recipes she’d learned from her travels around the world.
Emilia made her way over to the sofa and flopped down. “I have a history presentation I need to get started on,” she said, giving Alfie a look like she was being more responsible than he was.
“That should be fun.” Zia perched on the arm of the sofa next to Emilia. Everybody knew that Emilia loved history. It was her favorite subject. Alfie, on the other hand, could never get enough of geography. His bedroom walls were plastered with maps of all kinds. And he was forever looking at maps online—everything from world maps to city maps—even climate maps!
“My presentation has to be on the history of a specific city or state,” Emilia continued. “I just can’t decide which to focus on!”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of options,” Alfie replied, smiling at Zia. He thought about all the places they’d visited and experiences they’d had thanks to Zia’s magical recipes. “You could talk about any of the cities we’ve gone to.”
“I know,” Emilia replied. “I just can’t decide if I should present somewhere we’ve already been or somewhere new we might go!”
Zia nodded. “That’s a tough decision.”
“Not to me!” Alfie said. “I’d definitely give a talk about somewhere we’ve been. That’s much easier. You could talk about the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, or the Eiffel Tower in Paris!”
Just then Mom walked down the stairs. “Who’s going to the Eiffel Tower?” she asked.
Alfie looked at Zia, who busied herself picking lint off the arm of the sofa. Mom and Dad didn’t know about any of Alfie and Emilia’s adventures. It was their and Zia’s little secret.
“Uh, no one,” Emilia replied. “We were just talking about my history presentation.”
“Oh, I just love Paris!” Mom gushed. “Eating fresh croissants every morning and going to all those sidewalk cafés . . .”
“And the markets!” Alfie chimed in; then his eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “I mean, you know . . . I remember how Zia was telling us about the markets . . .”
Mom nodded, but looked a little confused.
“Well,” Zia said, straightening the brightly colored stone necklace she always wore, “aren’t you two going to be late for school?”
Mom glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Oh, goodness! It is late. Grab your stuff, kids. We’ve gotta go!”
“Bye, Zia!” Emilia said, giving her a quick hug.
“Bye!” Alfie gave Zia a grateful smile before slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
Zia winked. “Have a good day, bambini!”
Chapter 2
The next morning, Alfie rubbed his eyes as he shuffled into the kitchen, ready for breakfast. Every Saturday morning, Zia, Mom, and Dad made breakfast together. What they made was always a surprise, and it was always delicious—whether it was lemon-ricotta pancakes or breakfast burritos. But the kitchen was empty. Only silence filled the air—not a single mouthwatering food smell.
“Mom? Dad? Zia?” Alfie called, confused. Nobody answered.
Emilia burst through the kitchen door. “Where is everyone?” she asked. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” Alfie said. “I’m going to check the garage.”
“I’ll go,” Emilia said, jostling toward the door.
“No, I got it!” Alfie said, elbowing past Emilia.
Alfie and Emilia pushed through the door at the same time and spilled into the garage. The garage door was open, and Dad and Zia were standing in the driveway packing the car. Mom hustled past them with another bag.
“I’m ready!” she sang.
“You’re leaving already?” Alfie asked, stepping lightly across the concrete in his bare feet.
“We want to get an early start, champ,” said Dad. “It’s a bit of a drive to the cabin.”
“But we haven’t had breakfast together yet!” Emilia said.
“Don’t worry,” Zia said. “We’ll make breakfast as soon as they get on the road.”
Alfie looked at Mom and Dad. Dad whistled as he packed the car. Mom couldn’t stop smiling. “Well, have a good time, I guess,” Alfie said.
Mom swooped in and kissed Alfie’s forehead. “We will! And you two be good for Zia. I don’t want to hear about any more bickering, either, understood?”
“Yes, Mom,” Alfie and Emilia said together.
Dad opened his wallet and pulled out what Alfie thought were several twenty-dollar bills. “Here’s a little something extra for the weekend,” he told them. “In case you guys want to take Zia out for a treat or something.” Then he handed the cash to Alfie.
Alfie grinned and put the money in the pocket of his pajama pants. “Thanks, Dad!”
Emilia glared at Alfie for pocketing the money, but then managed a smile. “Yeah, thanks, Dad.”
“Be good,” Dad said, looking them both in the eyes.
“We will,” they responded together.
Zia put her arms around Alfie’s and Emilia’s shoulders as they watched the car back down the driveway. Dad honked the horn, and Mom waved before they pulled away.
“Now, let’s go see about that breakfast, shall we?” Zia asked.
Back in the kitchen, Zia whipped up omelets with cheddar cheese and mushrooms while Emilia cut up some fresh fruit, and Alfie set the table. Breakfast was quieter than usual with Mom and Dad gone. They ate their food mostly in silence. Then Alfie flicked a piece of cantaloupe onto Emilia’s plate just to annoy her. It worked.
“Alfie, don’t!” Emilia said, breaking the silence.
“What?” he replied with a sly smile.
Zia stood up and sighed. “I think I’ll take care of the kitchen cleanup myself. Why don’t the two of you spend some time on your own this morning? Away from each other. Emilia, you can get started on your history report, and Alfie, you can practice your drums.”
“Okay, Zia,” Emilia said.
Alfie took his plate to the sink and then headed out to the garage to his drum set. The spring band concert had been two weeks ago, and Alfie’s drum solo had been a smashing success. Everybody told him how well he performed, and he knew his family was proud. Since the concert was over, Alfie didn’t really have anything he needed to work on, but he always enjoyed playing. With all his practice—especially thanks to performing at Carnival in Rio—he was getting better and better. Alfie smiled, thinking of all the new friends he’d made thanks to Zia’s adventures. He couldn’t help but wonder when the next adventure might be.
In the sixth book in the series, Zia's secret ingredient takes Alfie and Emilia to an island famous for its surfing, luaus, and delicious food — Maui! There they dive headfirst into Hawaiian culture and discover the best sights, sounds, and tastes of the Pacific Islands.
Chapter 1
Alfie and Emilia stood in the middle of the kitchen. Emilia had her hands on her hips, and Alfie had his arms crossed over his chest. They scowled at each other. The overflowing trash can sat on the floor between them.
“It’s your turn!” Emilia cried.
Alfie shook his head. “No, it’s not!”
They stared each other down.
“Well, I’m not doing it,” Emilia finally said.
“Neither am I,” Alfie replied.
“Alfredo!” Emilia shouted, using Alfie’s full name.
Dad appeared in the doorway. “Quietare!” he said in Italian. “Quiet down. What’s all the shouting about?”
“It’s Alfie’s turn to take out the garbage, and he won’t do it,” Emilia said.
“I did it last week!” Alfie cried.
“No, you didn’t!” Emilia stomped her foot.
“Enough!” Dad held up his hands between them. “What’s gotten into you two lately? You can’t seem to get along for more than ten minutes at a time.”
Alfie and Emilia were silent as they stared at the floor.
“Alfie, pick up the bag. Emilia, go open the garbage can in the garage. You can do it together,” Dad said.
Alfie was about to protest again when he saw the serious look on Dad’s face. Dad was not messing around. Alfie sighed, picked up the bag, and followed Emilia into the garage.
“I know it was your turn,” Emilia whispered as she lifted the lid on the bin. “You’re just being a baby.”
Alfie rolled his eyes. Emilia could be such a know-it-all, especially now that she’d turned thirteen. She was only a year and a few months older than Alfie, but she liked to remind him of that fact every chance she got.
Alfie and Emilia stomped back through the kitchen and stood in the doorway to the family room. Dad had his back to them and was talking to their great-aunt Donatella.
“Maybe this is a bad weekend for us to go on our trip,” Dad was saying. “Those two just can’t seem to get along lately.”
“Nonsenso! Nonsense!” Zia Donatella replied, sweeping aside her long salt-and-pepper hair. “You and Arianna have waited ages to have a weekend away. You deserve it.”
“We have been looking forward to it . . . ,” Dad said.
“We’ll be fine here,” Zia continued. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“All right, we’ll stick to our plan.” Dad picked up his briefcase. “Well, I’d better get to work. See you tonight.”
“Arrivederci!” Zia called before turning to see Alfie and Emilia sulking in the doorway.
“Do you think we can all get along this weekend?” Zia asked. Alfie and Emilia nodded. “Good. Now, anything you want to do while your parents are away?”
“I want to play video games and maybe watch a movie!” Alfie said. “And we’re going to cook, right?”
“Of course!” Zia said. Zia was an incredible cook, and ever since she’d come to stay with the Bertolizzi family, she’d taught Alfie and Emilia some amazing recipes she’d learned from her travels around the world.
Emilia made her way over to the sofa and flopped down. “I have a history presentation I need to get started on,” she said, giving Alfie a look like she was being more responsible than he was.
“That should be fun.” Zia perched on the arm of the sofa next to Emilia. Everybody knew that Emilia loved history. It was her favorite subject. Alfie, on the other hand, could never get enough of geography. His bedroom walls were plastered with maps of all kinds. And he was forever looking at maps online—everything from world maps to city maps—even climate maps!
“My presentation has to be on the history of a specific city or state,” Emilia continued. “I just can’t decide which to focus on!”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of options,” Alfie replied, smiling at Zia. He thought about all the places they’d visited and experiences they’d had thanks to Zia’s magical recipes. “You could talk about any of the cities we’ve gone to.”
“I know,” Emilia replied. “I just can’t decide if I should present somewhere we’ve already been or somewhere new we might go!”
Zia nodded. “That’s a tough decision.”
“Not to me!” Alfie said. “I’d definitely give a talk about somewhere we’ve been. That’s much easier. You could talk about the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, or the Eiffel Tower in Paris!”
Just then Mom walked down the stairs. “Who’s going to the Eiffel Tower?” she asked.
Alfie looked at Zia, who busied herself picking lint off the arm of the sofa. Mom and Dad didn’t know about any of Alfie and Emilia’s adventures. It was their and Zia’s little secret.
“Uh, no one,” Emilia replied. “We were just talking about my history presentation.”
“Oh, I just love Paris!” Mom gushed. “Eating fresh croissants every morning and going to all those sidewalk cafés . . .”
“And the markets!” Alfie chimed in; then his eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “I mean, you know . . . I remember how Zia was telling us about the markets . . .”
Mom nodded, but looked a little confused.
“Well,” Zia said, straightening the brightly colored stone necklace she always wore, “aren’t you two going to be late for school?”
Mom glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Oh, goodness! It is late. Grab your stuff, kids. We’ve gotta go!”
“Bye, Zia!” Emilia said, giving her a quick hug.
“Bye!” Alfie gave Zia a grateful smile before slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
Zia winked. “Have a good day, bambini!”
Chapter 2
The next morning, Alfie rubbed his eyes as he shuffled into the kitchen, ready for breakfast. Every Saturday morning, Zia, Mom, and Dad made breakfast together. What they made was always a surprise, and it was always delicious—whether it was lemon-ricotta pancakes or breakfast burritos. But the kitchen was empty. Only silence filled the air—not a single mouthwatering food smell.
“Mom? Dad? Zia?” Alfie called, confused. Nobody answered.
Emilia burst through the kitchen door. “Where is everyone?” she asked. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” Alfie said. “I’m going to check the garage.”
“I’ll go,” Emilia said, jostling toward the door.
“No, I got it!” Alfie said, elbowing past Emilia.
Alfie and Emilia pushed through the door at the same time and spilled into the garage. The garage door was open, and Dad and Zia were standing in the driveway packing the car. Mom hustled past them with another bag.
“I’m ready!” she sang.
“You’re leaving already?” Alfie asked, stepping lightly across the concrete in his bare feet.
“We want to get an early start, champ,” said Dad. “It’s a bit of a drive to the cabin.”
“But we haven’t had breakfast together yet!” Emilia said.
“Don’t worry,” Zia said. “We’ll make breakfast as soon as they get on the road.”
Alfie looked at Mom and Dad. Dad whistled as he packed the car. Mom couldn’t stop smiling. “Well, have a good time, I guess,” Alfie said.
Mom swooped in and kissed Alfie’s forehead. “We will! And you two be good for Zia. I don’t want to hear about any more bickering, either, understood?”
“Yes, Mom,” Alfie and Emilia said together.
Dad opened his wallet and pulled out what Alfie thought were several twenty-dollar bills. “Here’s a little something extra for the weekend,” he told them. “In case you guys want to take Zia out for a treat or something.” Then he handed the cash to Alfie.
Alfie grinned and put the money in the pocket of his pajama pants. “Thanks, Dad!”
Emilia glared at Alfie for pocketing the money, but then managed a smile. “Yeah, thanks, Dad.”
“Be good,” Dad said, looking them both in the eyes.
“We will,” they responded together.
Zia put her arms around Alfie’s and Emilia’s shoulders as they watched the car back down the driveway. Dad honked the horn, and Mom waved before they pulled away.
“Now, let’s go see about that breakfast, shall we?” Zia asked.
Back in the kitchen, Zia whipped up omelets with cheddar cheese and mushrooms while Emilia cut up some fresh fruit, and Alfie set the table. Breakfast was quieter than usual with Mom and Dad gone. They ate their food mostly in silence. Then Alfie flicked a piece of cantaloupe onto Emilia’s plate just to annoy her. It worked.
“Alfie, don’t!” Emilia said, breaking the silence.
“What?” he replied with a sly smile.
Zia stood up and sighed. “I think I’ll take care of the kitchen cleanup myself. Why don’t the two of you spend some time on your own this morning? Away from each other. Emilia, you can get started on your history report, and Alfie, you can practice your drums.”
“Okay, Zia,” Emilia said.
Alfie took his plate to the sink and then headed out to the garage to his drum set. The spring band concert had been two weeks ago, and Alfie’s drum solo had been a smashing success. Everybody told him how well he performed, and he knew his family was proud. Since the concert was over, Alfie didn’t really have anything he needed to work on, but he always enjoyed playing. With all his practice—especially thanks to performing at Carnival in Rio—he was getting better and better. Alfie smiled, thinking of all the new friends he’d made thanks to Zia’s adventures. He couldn’t help but wonder when the next adventure might be.
