CHAPTER 2 #6
He always felt that his painting pigments were missing something, even though he'd added egg whites and yolks to improve the binding quality.
...I wonder what would happen if I added bile to the mix?
While Da Vinci fell into deep thought, Hedy also drifted off into her own.
Suddenly, she remembered something from her twenties, when she was working in film. She had read reports related to the topic.
At the time, critics sarcastically criticized biologists who used large vats of beef broth for experiments, seemingly linked to penicillin.
So—what does beef broth have to do with biology?
Something flashed in her mind, and in an instant, everything seemed to connect.
Microbes need something to feed on to propagate, just like trees need soil.
Could it be that... beef broth is what penicillin "feeds" on?
Suddenly, in her mind, she imagined a little devilish cartoon character, like something out of a Disney film, devouring the meat broth jelly at the bottom of the bowl.
This is so bizarre—but totally worth a try.
Just like when the U.S. Navy first heard that she had connected automatic pianos with torpedo communications, they thought it was the ramblings of a madwoman.
And yet, it turned out to be completely accurate.
"Boss, I'll take this piece of beef," she said suddenly.
Da Vinci, who had already chosen several beef gallbladders, also inquired about their uses.
The two of them carried the meat back home, neither one thinking about the prospect of a satisfying meal.
—Lunch would just be a quick fix, and then on to studying beef gallbladders and penicillin!
However, the little cook's skills had clearly improved quite a bit.
During the days when she had time to spare, not only had she become familiar with the surrounding streets and made many friends, but she had also learned a lot of cooking tricks from the neighbors.
How to make wine, knead dough for pasta, and cook the dishes of this time.
After all, if she were to serve Da Vinci a couple of hamburgers, she was a bit worried that she’d be branded a witch and burned at the stake.
She had heard that there had been several plagues in Milan and Venice, and things were not peaceful outside. Many refugees were coming to Florence to seek a living.
Her wages were already quite good compared to others in the city, and she knew she needed to be more dedicated.
If someone were to steal her job and things went wrong, she might end up like Fantine, pushed into becoming a prostitute in this terrifying old era.
Hedy rubbed her temples, pushing away some strange thoughts, and focused on rubbing the beef with spices and apple cider.
Rice, dates, pomegranates, citrus, and sugar.
Various spices mixed together, then combined with some rose water to make a thick, flavorful sauce.
While stewing the beef, she quietly added a little garlic juice to remove the strong, gamey odor.
According to Aunt Sofia, this method came from the Arabs and was called Saracen cooking.
Since the Crusades, many Eastern secrets had been passed over, and alchemy had become quite fashionable as well.
—It actually smells pretty good.
Da Vinci didn’t go back to painting.
He found a small glass bottle and poured all the collected beef bile into it.
Some old pigments had also been treated with egg liquid just a moment ago.
What would happen if he added the bile?
The rich, savory aroma of the stew wafted from the kitchen, and Da Vinci couldn’t resist sniffing the air.
It smells wonderful.
Hmm... Miss Kiesler's cooking skills have really improved.
Maybe I should try a bowl first?
The chronic procrastinator thought for a long moment before noticing that the egg tempera was almost solidifying.
Wait!
Da Vinci quickly twisted open the glass cap and added a few drops of bile, stirring experimentally.
Something strange happened.
As soon as the bile dropped into the pigment, the two distinct blobs of color merged like water droplets combining, blending effortlessly together.
Not only did the fluid's consistency change, but even the colors mixed with surprising ease as he stirred.
What’s going on here?
How did this happen?
The shape of the pigment layer shifted, and the effect of applying it to paper and the painting board also changed subtly.
He stood there, stunned for a few seconds, then suddenly grabbed a few silver coins from the table and ran out.
"Mr. Da Vinci—aren't you having lunch?" Hedy asked as she brought out the hot soup, only to see him rush out the door.
"I'll be back in a moment!"
Thank God.
Hedy had just been thinking about how to sneak a few spoonfuls of the soup into her room. Seeing him rush out without a second glance, she quickly grabbed a small bowl, filled it with half the soup, covered it with a clean cloth, and tucked it away in the corner under the bed.
It should cool and set into a thin layer of jelly.
She recalled the pictures in the newspaper, like she was squeezing a sponge to remember, wondering how the biologists had done it.
In a glass dish, there was a layer of jelly-like substance spread on top.
And the newspaper photo clearly showed some moldy-looking spots on the surface.
So, it floated on top.
But beef broth... doesn’t seem to set into a jelly.
Da Vinci had gone straight to the butcher’s shop again, not only buying more beef gallbladders but also spending a few silver coins on beef blood, saliva scraped from the tongue, and even cow urine—collecting all sorts of strange substances.
The elderly women nearby watched him with sympathy, wondering if someone in his household had contracted malaria.
Although he was starving, he was still absorbed in the excitement of discovering something new. He rushed back home and started mixing paints again, adding all sorts of bizarre liquids into the mix.
Hedy slowly sipped her soup, trying to make sense of what this man was up to.
"Aren't you... controlling your variables?" she asked.
"What?" Da Vinci paused, not understanding the word she used.
How would "variables" be expressed in Latin?
Hedy rubbed her forehead, trying to explain it more simply.
It wouldn’t do to keep communicating like this; she really felt like she needed a translator.
"Sir, how about this—I'll teach you some alchemy I overheard from the neighbors, and you can teach me some Italian. What do you think?"
Da Vinci surprisingly agreed, nodding and even offering: "I’ll raise your pay. How about that?"
"...Huh?"