"No. That's the thing. Once it reached the working temperature, it held it perfectly. Steady, even, predictable. I didn't have to adjust the heat at all. I could focus entirely on technique."
Mokko adjusted his glasses. "So it does work."
"It works," Marron confirmed. "Just not the way I expected. It's not... it's not dramatic. It doesn't prevent mistakes or make things easier. It just gives me the conditions I need to succeed. If I do my part right."
Patient hands and gentle heart, she thought. Maybe that's what it means. The pot is patient—slow to heat, steady in temperature. And it requires a gentle heart—someone willing to trust it, to work with it instead of against it.
"Three more tests," she said. "Custard, pudding, and preserves. If the pot keeps performing like this—quietly, reliably—then I'll know for sure."
"And if it does?"
"Then I was wrong about being wrong." Marron smiled slightly. "And I'll need to figure out what that means."
[Day 5: Crème Caramel]
