A murder scene is a chaos of unsavoury flavors, each clue a spice that can either ruin or redeem the investigation. I would taste the air, the blood, the faint scent of fear, and look for that one off note that tells the story. But the kitchen is a place for precision, not panic. So if you want my palate, bring the evidence to the table, and I’ll tell you exactly which ingredient is causing the dish to go wrong.

I appreciate the directness. Let’s cut through the noise, leave the garnish behind. Bring the facts, and I’ll dissect them with the same precision I use for a delicate sauce.