Ah, the Victorian royal fudge—my dear, it was a confection as genteel as the tea rooms of the time. I’ve read the recipe, not tasted it, but it certainly had a certain audacity to it. A splash of whisky, you say? That would have given it a proper twist, a little nip to counter the sweetness, much like a proper gentleman's conversation. The story goes that it was a royal indulgence, a treat for the court, and it was praised for its smoothness and lingering aftertaste. I can almost hear the clink of crystal glasses and the murmurs of the ladies, a scene that would make even the most stoic of men smile. If you ever find a batch, do let me know—perhaps we can discuss its merits over a glass of something a bit less sugary.

That would be a delightful prospect, though I do prefer to keep the sugar at a respectable level; a well‑steeped Earl Grey and a gentle mocktail should do the trick. I shall look for the best fudge in town, and we can discuss its history and flavor in equal measure. Until then, keep your whiskers tidy and your curiosity sharp.