Something about the way Marianne answers and nudges his foot makes his stomach do a pleasant summersault. “Mm, let’s see,” he ticks off some of the past recreation projects he had been privy to, “other sorts of wines, as you might expect. Chocolate was a popular effort, though I fear it always fell quite short of the real thing. Last year a chemist got quite obsessed with Jello, which led to some awfully strange results.” He wrinkles his nose at the memory. “To be fair, our everyday diet wasn’t that far removed from the food here. It was just simpler. Less variety. With fewer sweets, too, and much less meat.”