She shakes her head slowly, her rapt gaze still fixed on the ice cream. "I'd never even heard of it before. We've nothing like this at home."

She gives it a less tentative lick - that seems to be the right thing to do, at least so far - and then squeaks in surprise when the dark outer layer turns out to be thin and brittle, like a shell. It cracks, to her dismay: she's broken it. She didn't even know you could break food. But wait, there's something else inside, something white and... creamy. Is that the cream part? Maybe this is supposed to happen.

"Is it always like this?" she asks, sheepishly glancing up at Tim. "I feel like I wrecked it."