" Then she bit into the pie.
It was all those tastes she remembered from before. Fatty, doughy flour crust. Cheese. Spices and flavors that spoke of foreign Dry World places. And, she supposed, the overwhelming taste of onion. Green, and not unlike certain seaweeds. But stronger.
The baker just watched her as she chewed and enjoyed.
Ariel stopped. Didn't people eat the things they paid for?
She looked around and saw that no one else was gulping down their treats immediately. There went the old Ariel again. Impulsive. "

― Liz Braswell , Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)