An Italian Meets her German Ancestors

That July evening of 2018, I had whipped up a batch of obatzda, a German cheese spread that awaited its first cracker dip, when the doorbell rang.

My husband, Mark, opened the door to a crowd of tourists standing outside our iron gate. Just over their heads, a broad-shouldered, white-haired man wearing a golf shirt stepped away from the group and aimed a camera at my head.