My mother was very ill and had lost much of her ability to cook. One day she insisted on making food for me. It was honestly almost inedible: too salty, partly burnt, and cold in the middle.
I ate as much as I could and told her it tasted exactly like childhood. She smiled in a way I'll never forget. She died a few weeks later. I have told many lies in my life, but that is the one I feel most peaceful about.