By its nature a delicious meal ceases existence upon fulfillment of its purpose. He who toils over the pan, organizing the mess of batter into spheres of flavor, does so for the manifestation of his work to only exist momentarily. Focused, movements strain sweating arms as the meal is prepared. Coated in mayo and sweet sauce and finished with powerful, flavorful garnish; Both the joy of its consumption and the tragedy of its impending destruction grow in tandem. Mouth scorching bites accompany gustatory sensation until both cease and only a sauce smeared plate remains. But the cook is a fool to mourn his food, as the sight of his plate evokes the flavor in his mouth once more, and the memory of the struggle and suffering needed to create that moment fades away, his bygone meal may serve its purpose again.