Disclaimer: Tolkien translated the annals of Middle-earth, and opened the books to all.
A little bit o’ cheese... the thought had circled his mind for days... Grated - so it softened over a nice ‘tater, hot from the fire, the skin blistered and crispy... No, not that.
In a pie, with bacon, whisked eggs, thick slices of onion... all golden and bubbly from the oven... No, no not that...
He had it! Toast! A thick layer of butter-yellow cheese melted over crispy, fire-scorched bread, smoky from the open fire...
He coughed... the stench of sulphur, the weight of Master Frodo on his shoulders, made all notions of supper nothing more than fleeting dreams.