The Watered Down Mix.

A few years ago I took a job driving a Tonibell ice-cream truck through the towns and villages of East Anglia. Long days, diesel fumes, children running up with coins pressed into their palms. The soft-serve came from a powdered mix ' one bag to two jugs of water, the ratio printed clearly on the side. One morning I tried three jugs. The texture held. The swirl still stood proud in the cone. By the end of the week I was using four. Twice the yield. Twice the profit. No one noticed. Parents smiled, kids licked their cones clean, and the owner praised me for 'doing a good job.' I knew exactly what I was doing. And every extra pound I kept tasted sweeter than the ice-cream.