A unique culinary adventure through Italian history The Land Where Lemons Grow is the sweeping story of Italy's cultural history told through the history of its citrus crops. From the early migration of citrus from the foothills of the Himalayas to Italy's shores to the persistent role of unique crops such as bergamot (and its place in the perfume and cosmetics industries) and the vital role played by Calabria's unique Diamante citrons in the Jewish celebration of Sukkoth, author Helena Attlee brings the fascinating history and its gustatory delights to life. Whether the Battle of Oranges in Ivrea, the gardens of Tuscany, or the story of the Mafia and Sicily's citrus groves, Attlee transports readers on a journey unlike any other.

'4 stars. Attlee, who knows and loves Italy and the Italians, takes the reader through the country's scented gardens with her sharp descriptions, pertinent stories and quotes and intriguing recipes. I was there with her' Anna del Conte, Sunday Telegraph A delightful book about Italy's unexpected history, told through its citrus fruits The story of citrus runs through the history of Italy like a golden thread, and by combining travel writing with history, recipes, horticulture and art, Helena Attlee takes the reader on a unique and rich journey through Italy's cultural, moral, culinary and political past. 'Fascinating . . . A distinguished garden writer, Attlee fell under the spell of citrus over ten years ago and the book, like the eleventh labour of Hercules to steal the golden fruit of the Hesperides, is the result. She writes with great lucidity, charm and gentle humour, and wears her considerable learning lightly . . . Helena Attlee's elegant, absorbing prose and sure-footed ability to combine the academic with the anecdotal, make The Land Where Lemons Grow a welcome addition to the library of citrologists and Italophiles alike' The Times Literary Supplement 'A paradise of citrus is how I always think of Italy too: a place where ice-cold limoncello is sipped from tiny glasses on piazzas, and everything from ricotta cake to osso bucco is enlivened with zest. What a joy, therefore, to read Helena Attlee's The Land Where Lemons Grow, which tells the story of Italy through its citrus fruit' Bee Wilson, Telegraph

*A RADIO 4 BOOK OF THE WEEK* 'Utterly enthralling - a beautifully-written voyage of discovery that takes us deep into the heart of music-making' Deborah Moggach From the moment she hears Lev's violin for the first time, Helena Attlee is captivated. She is told that it is an Italian instrument, named after its former Russian owner. Eager to discover all she can about its ancestry and the stories contained within its delicate wooden body, she sets out for Cremona, birthplace of the Italian violin. This is the beginning of a beguiling journey whose end she could never have anticipated. Making its way from dusty workshops, through Alpine forests, cool Venetian churches, glittering Florentine courts, and far-flung Russian flea markets, Lev's Violin takes us from the heart of Italian culture to its very furthest reaches. Its story of luthiers and scientists, princes and orphans, musicians, composers, travellers and raconteurs swells to a poignant meditation on the power of objects, stories and music to shape individual lives and to craft entire cultures.

Laszlo traces the spectacular rise and spread of citrus across the globe, from southeast Asia in 4000 BC to modern Spain and Portugal, whose explorers inroduced the fruit to the Americas. This book explores the numerous roles that citrus has played in agriculture, horticulture, cooking, nutrition, religion, and art.

To many of us, the great gardens of Italy seem like paradise on earth. But how much do we know of their history, and the people who created them? In this ravishing book, illustrated with contemporary paintings, drawings and prints as well as photographs of the gardens today, Helena Attlee tells their story. She starts with Petrarch – still looking to medieval chronicles for advice on how and when to plant – and goes on to the Renaissance and those first gardens to emerge from architects' plans. Then she describes the great gardens of the Medici; the first botanic gardens; the weird Mannerist gardens and their grottoes followed by the Baroque splendour of Isola Bella and the Villa Aldobrandini; the Neoclassical and Picturesque gardens of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries; and how, in the twentieth century, expatriates with money to lavish on their villas and gardens brought new delights.

Helena Attlee’s 20 years of experience with gardens lets her bring readers the very best in Italy's Private Gardens. She has talked and teased with owners, in the process admiring some of Italy's finest gardens, both large and small. She has even delved into the past and explored the future. The result is a book full of wonderfully fresh insight into those most marvelous of creations — the great gardens of Italy. At Villa Barbarigo in the Veneto, Count Pizzoni Ardemani recounts childhood tales of playing in the garden and talking to the statues. Countess Pietromarchi persuades roses to thrive in the challenging climate of central Italy, sharing this secret — and many others — in her garden at La Ferriera in southern Tuscany. Each garden has been specially photographed by Alex Ramsay and he, too, brings readers the people behind the plants in this spectacular, unique look at beautiful gardens.

A classic of reportage, Oranges was first conceived as a short magazine article about oranges and orange juice, but the author kept encountering so much irresistible information that he eventually found that he had in fact written a book. It contains sketches of orange growers, orange botanists, orange pickers, orange packers, early settlers on Florida's Indian River, the first orange barons, modern concentrate makers, and a fascinating profile of Ben Hill Griffin of Frostproof, Florida who may be the last of the individual orange barons. McPhee's astonishing book has an almost narrative progression, is immensely readable, and is frequently amusing. Louis XIV hung tapestries of oranges in the halls of Versailles, because oranges and orange trees were the symbols of his nature and his reign. This book, in a sense, is a tapestry of oranges, too—with elements in it that range from the great orangeries of European monarchs to a custom of people in the modern Caribbean who split oranges and clean floors with them, one half in each hand.