I remember the days, long ago, where the steam rose high up and danced across our faces, tickling our nose.
The savory aroma coming from the small cresent moons trapped in a dish. The way they gleamed and shine from the light hitting their surfaces.
With the *beep beep beep* of the hot box, you knew it was done. Excited, you ran to it and opened the box to see the yellowish orange moons. You touch it, but immediately retract your hand as it's too hot.
You eventually build up the courage and pull the dish from the box. The smile that creeps onto your face as you can't wait to taste this heavenly food.
The silky smooth creme like substance spread evenly across the naked moons brings a combination like no other. It brings peace and harmony to the world as we know.
Once it cools the trident stabs at the cresents, brings it to your face, and disspears into a black hole, never to be seen again...