Carlo

The difference between a simple sorbetto and an ice cream is as great as the difference between chalk and cheese.

The Book of Ices

I had little to occupy me while I waited for my pineapple to arrive. I sent chilled cordials and jellies to the court, and spent the rest of my time in experiment.

In truth, I knew that I was as much a novice at this as I had once been at making ices, and I sorely needed the guidance of Boyle or some other natural philosopher. But Boyle had made it clear that he would not help me unless I agreed to make my findings public, so for the time being I was on my own.

Determined to proceed using the same logical approach that a chemist such as Boyle would employ, I began by returning to the pear ice I had made in France and attempting to recreate it exactly as I had done before. But it turned out not to be a straightforward process. It seemed that the relationship between thej various ingredients was almost impossibly complex - reducing the sugar made the texture less icy, but also made it harder to freeze the mixture at ail: the creme cmglaise sometimes froze smooth, but sometimes cooked into lumps, like scrambled egg, while changing the proportions of pear and cream turned it from a smooth cream ice into a sticky liquid mess.

During these experiments Hannah washed my dishes and Elias grated my ice. Somewhat to my surprise, both were hard workers, and I had no complaints about their diligence. I remembered the words of the French intelligencer. They believe in hard work, these Protestants: religiously, one mi^iht almost say. There had been no

repeat of the defiance over oaths, and so for my part I decided to say no more about it.

It was clear, though, that Hannah was not the kind of servant I had been used to in France.

‘Why is a frozen cordial better than an unfrozen one.>’ Elias asked me one day.

‘Because it cools the palate of those courtiers who are fortunate enough to eat it.’

‘But why do they not simply take off their coats, and cool themselves that way?’

It was tempting to tell him to stop asking questions; but something about the boy reminded me of my own curiosity when I first started working for Ahmad. ‘Because a cream ice is more delicious than taking off a coat,’ I said patiently.

‘Can I try some?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘It is not a taste for children.’

‘Then why do courtiers like it, if children do not?’

‘Because courtiers are fools.’ That was Hannah, interrupting unbidden. She saw my look. ‘It is nothing but the truth,’ she said unapologetically. ‘And it is best he knows it now.’

I did not answer her direcdy, but spoke to the boy. ‘Courtiers are used to magnificence. They can appreciate fine things, which they are entitled to in consequence of their nobility, and their service to the king.’

A tut from Hannah’s direction indicated her disagreement. ‘The court is the source of all our problems.’

‘Without the court, there would be no government,’ I pointed out.

‘In this country we are fortunate enough to have a Parliament, which governed the country perfectly well when the king was living abroad.’

‘When the last king was murdered by the mob' I said pointedly.

‘and his son forced into exile^ this country, I am told, fell under the spell of a dictator.’

‘Parliament isn’t perfect,’ she said. ‘As for King Charles - there is no doubt that since his sister’s death lie has tried to throw off some of the rakes and leeches who surrounded him. But he is also weak, and when his grief has faded he will revert to*his old ways again. That is to say,’ she gave me a sideways glance. ‘Catholic ways. He is easily led astray by pleasures and novelties of all kinds, especially if they have the stamp of fashionable approval from France.’

This, of course, was so exactly the assessment of those who had sent me that for a moment I did not know how to respond.

‘He will not be led astray by my ices, at any rate,’ I said at last. ‘They are simply frozen waters and cordials. There is nothing about them that can change a person’s character, let alone his religion.’


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