[ WP ] Make a fictional meal , dish , or drink sound so good that I 'll want to lick your words right off my monitor

Captain and warcaster Aeron Pike sat crouched in the narrow confines of the Cygnaran trench, his knees drawn up towards his chest and custom made scattergun propped next to him in the brushwood reinforced firing bay. 
 
 Far away to the west there was the distant crack of gunfire; likely a few Long Gunners who had seen a fleeting fur cap of their Khadoran foe. But where the warcaster was it was pleasantly quiet, or at least as quiet as the front lines of any active battlefield could be. No Assault Kommado's gas grenade landing at his feet, no Widowmaker a hundred yards away with their lethal crosshairs on him, and no damn Khadoran warjack coming his way. Creator help him, it was the best he had it in weeks. 
 
 If it was n't for the damn iron rations. 
 
 A can of bully beef, the canned meat loomed unappetizingly on his mess kit. Besides it was what the can swore was vegetable stew. Pike personally never saw the similarities; brown and salty did not a stew make. If he'd been served this in any tavern at Point Bourne, the Captain likely would've dunked the cook in his own poison. But alas, in battle one was far less particular about their fare, and counted every meal as a blessing. 
 
 `` Pass me some of that sheet iron, Capt, will you?'' The Trencher Sergeant across from Pike said. 
 
 The veteran soldier had a similar stomach churning meal in front of him, his Model 4 Spoon flashing as he shoveled the apparently edible food into his mouth. The Captain, his frown worsening as he stared down at his plate tossed the wax paper wrapped hard tack to the NCO who gnawed on it with relish. 
 
 `` What's the matter, Sir, not hungry tonight?'' 
 
 The warcaster shook his head, running a filthy hand through his equally filthy brown hair. 
 
 `` Nah, just taking my time. Could lose a tooth otherwise... or my lunch.'' 
 
 `` Thinking'bout those fancy meals you had growing up?'' 
 
 Pike laughed, the only merry thing for miles in this hellish land of rusted barbed wire and unburied corpses. 
 
 `` Hardly. My family were freeholders in the Watcher Peaks. We had it better than most but it was still a hard living, Menoth grant it. But it was honest. That said... I've had my share of wining and dining. Truth be told, I dislike most of it.'' 
 
 `` Pretend you do thought, Sir, and I'll live vicariously through you.'' 
 
 Captain Aeron Pike smiled, taking a sip of his overboiled tea. 
 
 `` Let's see... there was the time I was invited to dine at Fort Whiterock. Duke Mordin was pleased to hear that a warcaster had discovered within his Duchy and sent an invitation to Point Bourne while I was still a lieutenant at the academy. Me, this twenty year old Corporal turned officer invited by one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. Anyways, they sent a carriage to pick me up after I got three weeks leave and took me to Fort Whiterock. Now, its not any Ceryl to be sure but still. It's impressive. The had this dish that I ca n't for the life of me remember its name. But it was apparently some Caspian fare. Roasted goose stuffed with spices from the lands of Zu, covered in some light chile glaze of sorts. Apparently it was a joke of sorts to give the hottest piece to the youngest person there: me. It took me two cups of ale before my tongue stopped burning. After that, they had those little sweet cakes with that really hard icing on it, fondant or whatever its called. Truth be told, it was rather bad; too sweet for my taste. But the girl I was with, the Baron of Rosaleen's daughter she liked it. Being young and impressionable, I naturally agreed with her like a fool. Still, it was worth it.'' 
 
 `` Begging your pardon, Captain, but I heard Khadorans make their fare sound better.'' 
 
 Both soldiers paused, saying nothing for a solid ten seconds before breaking out in laughter, bully beef and suspect stew forgotten for a moment. It was those moments that made a life of war bearable.
