Launch a cooking show for meals that cook themselves.

A Letter to My Dearest Friend, Lady Beatrice
Fair Beatrice,
I pen thee this missive with great excitement, for I hath embarked upon a most wondrous venture. In the kitchens of our fair realm, where pots bubble and cauldrons sing, a new spectacle is to be unveiled-a cooking show unlike any other, where meals shall cook themselves!
Imagine, if you will, a stage set with the finest ingredients, each as if enchanted by the very hands of the Fates. There shall be no need for the toil and trouble that hath long been the bane of our culinary endeavors. Instead, with but a wave of the hand and a whisper of arcane words, the ingredients shall spring to life, dancing their way into sumptuous dishes.
The show, aptly titled "The Enchanted Feast," shall feature recipes most delectable and methods most magical. Our audience shall behold the marvel of self-simmering soups, self-baking breads, and roasts that carve themselves with grace. The magic lies in the incantations, the ancient spells passed down through generations, which I have so diligently learned.
Picture, if you will, a pot of stew, wherein each vegetable leaps with joy into the bubbling broth, stirring itself with a ladle enchanted to move on its own. The aroma of freshly baked pies shall fill the air, their crusts forming and browning with nary a touch.
Lady Beatrice, I do implore thee to join me in this grand endeavor. Thy wit and charm would lend a most delightful presence to our show. Together, we shall delight the masses, bringing forth the magic of self-cooking meals to every hearth and home.
Awaiting thy favorable reply, and with bated breath,
Thy ever faithful friend,
Lord Reginald
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