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“The ball of iced cream was nestled in a crystal dish. A pale orange in hue, it was studded with bright green pistachio kernels and glistening slivers of lemon peel. The flavors mingled in my mouth, sweet orange, sharp lemon, and the earthy bitterness of the nuts. Better than anything my mother had made. I forced it down. We were in Hannah's kitchen. She smiled at the look of rapture on my face. "I tried beating it periodically while it was freezing. It has greatly improved the texture. I am trying out other ideas too." How innovative she was. I smiled at her fondly. The queue had been out the door when I'd arrived, and iced cream was the demand upon everyone's lips. Hannah had three flavors on sale now: peach, raspberry, and the one I'd just tried, which she had named "Royal Ice.” — Laura Shepherd-Robinson