Around a week ago now, my mother and I prepared a feast for my family as part of our annual tradition in the autumn months. We had formed plans a couple days prior, and due to our procurement of a young turkey from family friends, it would be our biggest fall banquet in recent memory. It took us multiple days to brine the turkey, during which we cleaned our fridges, did some late shopping, and washed up any remaining dishes for the day of. Upon the rise of our sun on the 23rd of November came the frenzy of prolonged cooking. The result of two extremely fatigued women alone in a kitchen (as well as some minor contributions from family members) was a baked turkey, slices of ham (both glazed with a syrup-based mix and un-glazed), creamed corn, mac and cheese, green beans (casserole and not), mashed potatoes, paella, mashed potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, and an arugula salad. The subsequent cocktails and blunts brought forth by my siblings were very much appreciated.
It is this sort of activity, the pining over creating a 'feast' for many to enjoy, through which TET is able to revel in the simultaneous festivity and intensity that is cooking. Cooking games are nothing new, but TET is the first time where the full scope seems to be at play in an earnest, almost unbridled manner. The game asks you to prepare two dishes in an allocated amount of time for guests: Tofu spring rolls and fried bananas. The process is depicted in microscopic minigames where you clean cabbages, shred carrots, all in a matter of seconds. It's over before you know it, guests filtering into the room as stacks of spring rolls and fried bananas gradually fade into plates with scattered crumbs. This represents something I absolutely adore about the process of cooking, the ability to share and provide for those you love without reciprocation. This is echoed almost poetically by the free distribution of the game, available with no expectation of payment. You can, of course, pay Charlotte Broccard with the post-game donation screen, but it's not demanded of you. It is the closest video-game analog to someone providing a feast for you and many others to enjoy.
It is this sort of activity, the pining over creating a 'feast' for many to enjoy, through which TET is able to revel in the simultaneous festivity and intensity that is cooking. Cooking games are nothing new, but TET is the first time where the full scope seems to be at play in an earnest, almost unbridled manner. The game asks you to prepare two dishes in an allocated amount of time for guests: Tofu spring rolls and fried bananas. The process is depicted in microscopic minigames where you clean cabbages, shred carrots, all in a matter of seconds. It's over before you know it, guests filtering into the room as stacks of spring rolls and fried bananas gradually fade into plates with scattered crumbs. This represents something I absolutely adore about the process of cooking, the ability to share and provide for those you love without reciprocation. This is echoed almost poetically by the free distribution of the game, available with no expectation of payment. You can, of course, pay Charlotte Broccard with the post-game donation screen, but it's not demanded of you. It is the closest video-game analog to someone providing a feast for you and many others to enjoy.