...James knew such predictions were beyond his ken. But he did know one thing: that as sure as cream, properly whisked, rises into crème fraiche, the men and women crowded around him were the great hope of the most just God. James felt the heat of Mary's arm pressed against his. He felt the air of the future rushing into his lungs. James held the breath and let the taste settle in his mouth. It was earthy and rich, cool on his tongue. There was truffle in it, a bit of salt, iron, a sprig of mint. It was a taste both obvious and unexpected. James drew in another breath and tried to understand the blend of flavors. The parts of it were too complex for him to name, but the whole of it was simple. And magnificent. James let the breath seep into him and started a list of ingredients, wondering where in this town he might find a decent kitchen. He was ready to begin again.