Chapter 4
“When pitting a peach proceed with gentleness, for it is of the stone fruits and they are a delicate bunch, prone to bruising when mishandled.”
—From the salvaged notes of A., apprentice in the kitchens of Fontainebleau c. 1530s
“The view from up here is magnificent, Father!” Henri exclaimed as he sat across the large mouth of the drained wine cask. For though it had been a bit cumbersome at first getting up onto the lidless barrel, he’d done it. With some help, Henri had found ease when spreading his stocking-less legs wide, finding purchase as his knees bent over the sides. His bared ass tilted low into the heaving darkness below, caught by the face of the priest.
“Not as magnificent as the view down here, my son!” the man’s syllables slopped, echoing up at him. Henri felt
