Say you’re a women’s magazine, launching a podcast: one-bite conversations, the soft against the savage. Rose and bone marrow. Plum and bottarga. / Say you're a watchmaker, sending a Christmas greeting: sweets that change flavour as they melt. Winter to spring to summer to autumn. / Say you’re the ETH, publishing a climate report: a menu from 2070, figs where the apples were. A forecast you can taste. / Say you’re Donatella Versace, your final runway needs a last supper: a timballo cracked open at the table, saffron risotto and 'nduja spilling out, north into south. Not one apology. / Say you’re a private bank, welcoming the next generation: still lifes of a grandmother's Sunday lunch, the roast, the good plates, the afternoon light. The trust that someone has always taken care of this.