Two people can eat the same dinner for opposite reasons, and two people who agree about the reasons can still despise each other's shopping. That is because three separate questions are hiding inside one plate: what a meal is for, whether it carries a verdict, and whether the best version of a food is the one that grew or the one somebody designed.

Thirty-six statements, about six minutes, and a point inside a cube. Answer for the food you choose, not the food you end up with.

Two arguments happen in every kitchen and they are not the same argument. One is about whether a dish has a correct version. The other is about whether you measure. Plenty of people are strict about one and cheerfully loose about the other, which is why four kinds of cook fit on one map.

Twenty-four statements, about four minutes, and a point on a map. Answer for the cooking you actually do at home.

Everyone says they follow the recipe. Then the onion goes in for as long as it looks like it needs, the wine is however much came out of the bottle, and the timer was set for a number nobody has looked at since.

Ten statements, about two minutes, and one number for what actually happens in your kitchen rather than what the cookbook thinks is happening.