Laurel, Claudius wants to say, reads voraciously, he'd devour the words and then everything you made from them. Why does he want to talk so desperately about Laurel and to say nothing at all? "It's more than I can do," he offers instead. "The height of my culinary accomplishments include the ill-fated soup I told you of, and a batch of a crispels. Also from a recipe from a book." And he gave the first to Laurel -- Claudius can't even keep the name from his head. It isn't the right one any longer.