He never repeated the same style twice. Every meal was a little surprise.
And the spices—oh, he didn't just throw them into boiling water like Cutie did, pretending that was enough.
No. He ground them by hand, using a stone—old-school style. Then he roasted them dry until the fragrance filled the room, and only then did he rub the mixture deep into the meat—before it even hit the pan.
Every bite?
A wow moment.
It was like being transported straight back into her modern world—where food had layers, personality, and soul.
Even for something as basic as bathing, he didn't take shortcuts.
Instead of just handing over a bucket of freezing water, he would go out, collect clean snow, and melt it over the fire until it was warm. It took more wood, more effort—something the locals had clearly noticed and talked about—but he didn't seem to care.
Because at the end of the day, the bath was warm.
The food was amazing.
Of course, there was one thing she absolutely had to say—
