"Carried away studying the sculptures, you mean?" Percy asked, swallowing down his chicken. He supposed he'd never really thought about the people who posed for the statues, except in passing, and usually only if the sculpture was, for lack of better words, rather remarkable. Feeling rather sheepish himself, he focused his attention on his plate.
"It's all about the eggs," he told her with a hint of pride, having figured it out after several collapsed trays of Yorkies himself. "Making sure you have enough egg helps tremendously. And timing - timing has to do with it, of course. I admit, I started to hover over mine. The trick is to let them dextrinize; if the outsides aren't crisp, it won't hold its own weight and will collapse. If they begin to deflate once they're cooling, heat them for a little while longer."
He tapped his wand against his orange again; the rind fell away, leaving perfect quarters for eating. Percy picked one up. "How do you do that?" he asked with interest. "Roast your own spices?"