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[The one thing about being surrounded by robots with only an artificial sense of taste, if at all, is that Anri does not quite trust them to make food for her. It's quite probably silly and she is unashamed.
There is also the fact of being a parasitic vessel for an angry demon and the sheer amount of energy it requires.
Anri's hands make food, and then make more food, and then a little more food after that. It's a spread.