For her second try, April chose a small family owned spot that boasted a dish, Tunisian Tripe, that sounded vile to her. The pickled pig foot in it alone was enough to make her queasy. Mark and Napoleon were starting to rethink the whole bit about all of them eating together.

When the dish came to the table, Illya spoke to the server in Arabic. The man responded enthusiastically and other family members poured out of the kitchen to chat.

Illya served himself to a generous helping.

"They say they made it from lamb tripe. Does it not smell wonderful?"