“Especially since we’ve gone without baked goods for so long,” Conseil said.
“It’s more than just bread,” the Canadian added. “It’s a dainty pastry. You’ve never eaten any, sir?”
“No, Ned.”
“All right, get ready for something downright delectable! If you don’t come back for seconds, I’m no longer the King of Harpooners!”
After a few minutes, the parts of the fruit exposed to the fire were completely toasted. On the inside there appeared some white pasta, a sort of soft bread center whose flavor reminded me of artichoke.
This bread was excellent, I must admit, and I ate it with great pleasure.
“Unfortunately,” I said, “this pasta won’t stay fresh, so it seems pointless to make a supply for on board.”
“By thunder, sir!” Ned Land exclaimed. “There you go, talking like a naturalist, but meantime I’ll be acting like a baker! Conseil, harvest some of this fruit to take with us when we go back.”
“And how will you prepare it?” I asked the Canadian.
“I’ll make a fermented batter from its pulp that’ll keep indefinitely without spoiling. When I want some, I’ll just cook it in the galley on board—it’ll have a slightly tart flavor, but you’ll find it excellent.”