Even though Italian is the language of my paternal great-grandparents, I don't know how to speak it. I mix it with Portuguese and French and make a miserable cocoliche.
The first time I went to Naples I was desperate, I could barely make myself understood in English. I wanted to try the typical pistachio ice cream. I tried to ask the employee and when it came to indicating the size the mess began with my tongue. At that, the employee shouted into the ice cream shop: "Vieni qui! La donna parla eats Maradona!"