In the kitchen, Schiller carved up the duck and set it on the island where Peter and Stark were sitting. The two of them looked as if the aroma of roast duck had punched them in the face, nearly knocking them off their barstools.
"That's ridiculous, Doctor." Peter carefully picked up a piece of duck skin with his fork, dipped it in the little dish of white sugar Schiller had handed him, and popped it into his mouth. The instant it touched his tongue, he began frantically making the sign of the cross over his chest.
"Good Lord, this thing is so delicious that even if Jesus were being crucified right next to me, I wouldn't care!" Peter said.
Stark elbowed him, telling him to tone it down. He himself picked up the chopsticks with a practiced air, clumsily grabbed a piece of duck skin, dipped it in the sugar, and tossed it into his mouth.
"Fine, I'm grateful for everything Jesus did for humanity, but fuck! How can this possibly taste this good?!"
Stark was even more dramatic than Peter. Schiller smiled. He knew Stark actually loved rich, greasy, intensely flavorful food. Otherwise, cheeseburgers would not have been his favorite.
A lot of people had wondered about the same question as children: burgers had meat, vegetables, and bread, so how could they possibly be unhealthy?
But American burgers really were extremely unhealthy. The beef patty was not a grilled steak. It was ground beef formed into a patty and then fried. Ground beef was never entirely lean; at least one-third to one-half fat had to be added to keep the patty tender and juicy. The juices inside a burger patty were not all moisture from the meat. A great deal of it was fat. The fat intake was completely