Cassandra: The Inquisitor hears she’s craving blueberry sweet rolls, and they make a fresh batch. Cassandra, abashed and flattered, agrees to try one, and she stops short as she puts it in her mouth. It’s warm and sweet, and the taste of sweet blueberry hits her. They’re sticky and stain her fingers blue, but Cassandra doesn’t care. It takes great effort not to start moaning in ecstasy, it’s so good, tinged with bittersweet memories as she thinks of Antony. The Herald asks, hopefully, if she likes it. Cassandra, in turn, nods eagerly and takes another sweet roll. She’s tempted to take the whole plate. “You are the Maker’s chosen, indeed.” she declares. “It’s wonderful.” If romanced: her love surprised her with the sweet rolls, and it makes her heart swell with adoration. She drags him off to a quiet grove, and the two eat the pastries and cuddle, her head on his shoulder. New memories together would be nice.
Blackwall: He thinks he’s about to get standard camp fare when the Inquisitor makes stew for the others. When he tastes it, though, he’s actually shocked by the exquisite taste. He stops short, spoon still in his mouth, and stares down at the bowl for a moment before wolfing it down. He’d ask for seconds, but the whole pot is already gone, finished by the others. He sighs in mild disappointment, then looks to the Inquisitor with so much joy, so much hope. “If we get the ingredients for you, could you cook for us in camp from now on? Please?” If romanced: he tries to help by doing whatever his girlfriend tells him to. The food comes out delicious, and she giggles and praises him. He laughs and shrugs sheepishly. “Oh, I was just following your orders, my lady. Only thing I had to offer is love.”
Iron Bull: The Inquisitor was showing Sera their cookie recipe when he asked to try one. More than half of the plate was gone already because Sera nabbed them, and she reluctantly allows the Bull to take one. The taste of melty, sweet warm chocolate and sugary sweet cookie dough actually makes him moan in ecstasy– he doesn’t hold back. “This… you made this, Boss? Wow.” The Inquisitor nods and goes to get another batch out of the oven, and Bull’s eye is full of hope and desire. “Boss? Can I have this batch to share with the Chargers? Please?” From then on, he always hovers around the kitchen whenever they cook, eager for a taste. If romanced: He’s not much of a cook, but he tries to help anyways. By “help” he means intermittedly coming into the kitchen, dipping a spoon into whatever they’re making, tasting it, and nodding. “Yep, Kadan, it’s good. Aren’t you glad I’m here to help you taste-test?” They kiss, and they get second-hand taste in doing so.
Sera: After tasting her cookies on the rooftop, the Inquisitor drags her to the kitchen to show her their cookie recipe. They giggle and toss flour at each other as they cook, and when the cookies come out, Sera hardly gives them a chance to cool before tasting one. Her eyes bulge at the flavor, and with a moan, and she immediately reaches for another. “Soooo good. And you! You made me not hate cookies anymore. These… these are friendship cookies, yeah? You’re the best cook ever.” Like Bull, she starts hanging around the kitchen whenever the Inquisitor is cooking. If romanced: They’re covered in flour and their faces are covered in melted chocolate, especially around the lips that kiss, and they’re giggling like maniacs. “These are us cookies, yeah?”
Varric: He mentions braised nug with elfroot, and how awful it was, and the Inquisitor is on a mission to make it appetizing. They soon present him with the dish, and he fully expects it to taste moldy and dry, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try it. To his shock, the meat is moist and melts in the mouth, and rosemary combined with a hint of dried elfroot just right, just tantalizing right. “Maybe I ought to change your nickname to Chef.” he says wryly.
Cole: He doesn’t eat, so instead he takes to distributing the Inquisitor’s baked goods to people in need throughout Skyhold. Spirits are raised immensely with the gesture, and soon thereafter the kitchen is asking for the Herald’s recipe after a bunch of requests for more. “it won’t be the same,” Cole says, “they put love into it as the main ingredient. They have to make it.”
Dorian: He was talking about a traditional Tevinter dish that he hasn’t had since he left home, mentioning how much he was craving it, but no one would make it. The Inquisitor then looks up the recipe and makes it themselves, and presents rice and curry to a surprised altus. He tries it, and he’s utterly floored, and so, so happy that he got to have it again– it tastes like home. “It’s even better than at home! Thank you!” he says, sincerely, as he reaches for more. He then pauses and reaches for a bottle of wine and looks up to the Inquisitor, grinning. “This goes down well with it. Dine with me?” If romanced: Dorian is breathless, imagining two things: being home, and being home and living in peace with his amatus as they eat the delicious food. So they settle for looking over Skyhold together, and he’s rarely been this happy before.
Solas: He makes an off-hand mention that he would like to get petit fours next time they go to Val Royeaux, and he’s actually surprised, for once, when the Inquisitor presents him a few hours later with a full plate of lemon and raspberry petit fours. He thanks them and reaches to try one, but he never expected it to be so good. Sweet, tart lemon filling and a sweet crumbly base melt in his mouth, and his eyes widen. “These are… delectable. Thank you…” He tries to surreptitiously be around the kitchens whenever the Inquisitor is done cooking, though he denies it. If romanced: “Vhenan, open your mouth.” She does it, and he gives her a half of a petit four he cut in half. She giggles as he tries to feed her, though he does it with closed eyes and misses her mouth and hits her nose instead, leaving cream on it. He’s mortified, but she thinks it’s hilarious.
Vivienne: She had asked to talk to the Inquisitor, and was surprised when they brought up a few of the petit fours they managed to spirit away from Solas, who took most of them. She sends for tea, and the two talk for awhile when she finally reaches for one of the petit fours. She was absolutely not expecting them to be so good, and she asks where the Herald bought them. When they reply that they made them, she’s even more surprised. “Truly? Well, my dear,” she says, eyes hopeful, “we’ll have to have tea time again sometime soon. With more of your petit fours.”
Cullen: One day, when he’s particularly stressed, the Inquisitor makes him simple shortbread cookies. He’s excited to see them, of course, and after eating one sweet, buttery cookie, the entire plate is gone within the hour. He finds them later and thanks them profusely– it really cheered him up, as well as complimenting them on their cooking skill. If the Inquisitor ever wants to give him a gift or anything, he only wants one thing: more shortbread cookies. He actually dreams about them on rare occasion, when not having a nightmare. If romanced: The next time they go to make butter cookies, Cullen comes to help, and together they make cookies that are even better than before. He forgets his worries for a while as he stirs batter and cuts the cookies, and the two sneak dabs of cookie dough and tease each other.
Leliana: The Inquisitor sends her some petit fours from a batch they make, and Leliana has already heard from the others how good they are, so she’s eager for a taste. A rare smile blossoms on her face as she tries them, and she wants to savor them, enjoy them for as long as they last. She offers her compliments to the chef, and one day when the Herald mentions they’re in the mood to cook, she has an agent take care of whatever they were going to do to free up their time. “It seems as though you now have some free time. And the chef is out of the kitchen! Have fun.”
Josephine: When the Inquisitor is asking her about Antiva, she mentions a popular dish there– paella. After being unable to get fresh seafood to Skyhold, the Inquisitor settles for making a vegetarian paella. Josephine is eager to try it, and when she does, the spices and flavor takes her back home, if only for a moment. “Thank you so, so much,” she says, utterly floored as she leans back in the chair, thrown back by the flavor, “I just… it takes me back to the shores of Antiva City. Would you be willing to make this again, sometime?” If romanced: she carves out some time to go cook with them, and she giggles and chatters away happily as they cook together. A few times, she stops them just to give them a kiss, and then they go back to cooking, all blushes and spices.
Delicious Fish 