“Interesting.” Katie crept forward again. “How did you learn to do that?”
“I read it in a magazine,” Daisy explained. “I tried it out in my bedroom back at my father's inn, and it was so nice to be able to choose exactly what I wanted. That first one wasn't the best, but it was good enough I kept trying, and now I'm rather good at it, not to be immodest. I'm not an artist, but as long as the design is simple, I can make something pretty.”
“It doesn't look pretty now,” Katie commented.
Daisy paused in her grinding to gather up more small squares of scraps from the bucket of water in which they were soaking.
Katie reached out to touch the mash. “It feels like potatoes.”
“A bit, or maybe like applesauce.”
“You've made applesauce?” Katie asked.
“Yes, and potatoes too. Remember, I wasn't
