I am an omakase chef

I run a restaurant with a single seat, and a single sitting, normally around 10pm.

There is only one item on my menu.

At that time, my sole patron arrives and sits, watching me while I set to work, my hands moving slowly and deliberately with the practice of hundreds of prior repetitions.

The pill is carefully broken in half, and the remainder stashed back in it’s blister.

A small piece of mouldable savoury putty is selected, and carefully shaped around the pill, such that it fully surrounds it, but with the pill off-center, leaving a larger amount of putty at one end.

A Dreamie1 is selected, and is carefully split, and one half is held back in the hand while the other is delicately moulded into the waiting putty, such that the whole can now sit with the Dreamies-half on top, sitting on the putty with the pill hidden directly beneath it. This completes the dish. It is a Dreamie nigiri.

The small morsel is finally placed in front of the diner, who considers it briefly, then eats, and then leaves.

  1. The singular of “Dreamies” is basically unknowable.