I can smell the words.

[West]

The faded cards that contain her Mo-Maw's precious recipe are not entirely clear. Like any true master's recipe, the instructions are complexly labyrinthine and deliberately vague. Every instance where Ruby finds the words, "to taste," drive a spike full of doubt deeper into her mind.

God, isn't this the truth? Brown little index cards with stains, handwritten code that would make Windtalkers cry next to some measurements...

Brought back some good memories of helping mom in the kitched dude

[tsameti]

I envision the production of the Chili unfolding like a Greek Tragedy.