@haereses &&. said... he dishes up an assortment. a thick cut steak, seasoned and seared nicely on both sides and just on the border of rare. a plate of artfully stacked ribs, crisped and fragrant, with the fat rendered beautifully. there are long bones cut and grilled, marrow soft and creamy.

objectively  the  assortment  is  exquisite  —  no  matter  how  much  it  may  PAIN  HIM  to  admit  as  much.  the  spread  looks  akin  to  the  sort  one  might  encounter  in  the  most  pretentious  high  end  restaurants.  the  kind  mortals  spend  months  of  their  feeble  lives  waiting  for  their  opportunity  to  dine  at.  it's  a  bit  INSULTING,  albeit  indirectly.  to  see  that  the  doctor  is  capable  of  such  feats  of  culinary  excellence,  yet  insisted  on  feeding  him  only  the  most  atrocious,  low  effort  meals  —  and  that  is  without  taking  into  account  the  medley  of  poisons  and  other  purportedly  inedible  materials  that  only  served  to  lower  their  overall  taste  and  quality  all  the  more.

that  aside,  no  matter  how  picturesque  the  food  may  look,  he's  hesitant.  there's  always  some  CATCH  where  dottore  is  involved  —  some  element  of  the  grotesque  no  matter  how  seamlessly  he  manages  to  hide  it.

❝  fodder  for  the  meat  grinder?  ❞  he  hazards  a  guess.  ❝  is  mr.  ninth  still  holding  out  on  you?  ❞