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It’s kind of surreal, looking at the tiny cube of meat.
Not just that for the first time in years, I’m presented with something that looks like actual food, no matter how simple. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a chunk of steak from a real cow. Cooked enough for food safety, browned completely through, no sear marks across its surface. No seasoning, either. Not even good old table salt. (My nutrition team were very skeptical when I told them I wanted some sodium chloride in my diet. And you know what, that’s fair. How many other rocks do humans want to eat? Not many, I’ll tell you that. If this pans out though, I will have to try harder to convince them.)
The tiny bite sits on a plate, comically small, and my nostrils flare as they take in the heady scent of cooked meat. My mouth instantly fills with saliva in anticipation of tasting it, and I pick it up with a trembling hand, a sheen of rendered fat smudging against my fingertips. I hold it close to my nose and inhale, closing my eyes, and I think of pork chops and gravy, bacon and eggs, Chinese takeout from the place around the corner from my old apartment.
I’d fully intended to savor it slowly, to let it sit in my mouth and rediscover texture and flavor, so long forgotten after years of taking my meals through a nasogastric tube. I should chew it slowly and carefully, reintroducing my teeth to the idea of mastication. And now that I’m about to actually do it, not just hypothetically, most people would probably take a moment to reflect on becoming a cannibal for science.
All that goes out the window the moment it touches my tongue.
An explosion of flavor erupts in my mouth, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m frantically chewing, ripping the small bite into smaller and smaller pieces, the hot juices running down my throat before the rest of the mass joins them. I suck at my fingers, licking every last drop of grease from the creases in my hands, and the sound coming from my throat sounds like a starving animal. Which I guess I am.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
I want more.
I can’t have more, but I turn hopeful eyes to the Eridian who delivered the food sample anyway. They shift a little, uncomfortable with my scrutiny when I still have my fingers in my mouth, my tongue seeking any last hint of flavor left in the grooves of my fingerprints.
“Grace not eat self still attached,” Ramsay warbles at me disapprovingly, but there is a hopeful tilt to their carapace. “Test successful, question?”
I reluctantly drop my hand, and give them a thumbs up. “Test successful,” I confirm, my stomach squirming a little as it suddenly has something to process besides just liquids. It hurts, but it’s a good pain, not the queasy sort that heralds a reappearance of my last meal.
Ramsay trills, pleased. “Good good good. Feedback on presentation, question?”
I think about it. My jaw aches, my teeth and gums shocked from the effort required to rip and tear again, and I absently rub along my jawline with one hand, bristles scraping my palm. “Softer is probably better for now. Let me tell you about burgers.”