Knead instead of smash. Cure instead of burn. Just enough salt, sugar and pepper.
“Love means compassion, gentleness and understanding.”
That is not the nature of love in certain places. It is shown by taking the flesh of the beloved and turning them into something wonderful according to their arbitrary sense. The beloved has little to no say in it. “Do we make you happy? Do we feed your enclosed world full?”
Of course hunger is satiable, but not for long.
Born out of their desperate search for comfort, the resulting delicacy in their hands is wondrous, indeed. You’d have difficulties finding anything like it anywhere else. But for some people, it can be too much for the senses. Some would eat just about anything, some would be unreasonably picky.
I wonder if given the choice, would most people choose “happiness” over “comfort”?