The Indie Informer

July 16 was a fabulous day for indies, with games of every kind — from cozy collecting to unsettling clicking — dropping all at once. Despite this, I was hard pressed to leave the enchanting world of Magical Delicacy. After thirty-two hours, I’ve finally rolled credits — having completed every order in the game and leaving my virtual home better than I found it.

Its concept and execution are both singular. When was the last time you played a Life Sim Platformer? And if you can’t imagine what that would even feel like, let me help: It feels wonderful. The seemingly contrasting genres’ play so well together, leaving me space to both get comfy and whip up bewitching dishes for customers in need while also feeding my desire for exploration. The world and its inhabitants are diverse and endearing, which only increases my urge to adventure out and help with my special blend of comforting aid. The heartening pixel art and whimsical score ensure everywhere I go feels comforting.

I’ve had the pleasure of previewing Magical Delicacy before, which introduced me to the narrative setup and basic mechanics. To quickly catch you up, I’m a witch skilled in cooking magics from the North. Unfortunately, the land of my birth is less than accepting of my unique gifts. So, as a young adult, I’ve decided to start a life somewhere new and more welcoming of my talents — the city of Grat.

Grat’s inhabitants run the gamut between humanoid frogs, pointy-eared giants, your odd human, and many more inbetween. It’s certainly not the place to look at a witch with side-eye. The game’s dialogue and motivations for all of these characters, regardless of their fantastical nature, are grounded and often relatable. A amphibious spouse wishes to plan a picnic for their seafaring partner. A group of adventurers need provisions for a journey. A tailed princess just wants a sweet treat to focus on rather than the impending burden of the crown. It’s easy to care for their plights — big and small — and, in turn, I’m happy to run to my kitchen to make their lives better.

My kitchen is a rapidly-expanding business. When I first arrived and struck a deal for the near-empty storefront (I say near-empty because it comes with a mysterious roomate) I have only a sink and cooking pot to fulfill orders. However, my services quickly come into high demand and by dishing out orders, I gain enough money to pick up a mortar and pestle, chopping block, and oven from the nearby blacksmith.

These tools allow me to prepare increasingly elaborate meals and secure wider patronage. However, a simple trip to buy new appliances and a greater variety of ingredients is not so simple. The delightfully bizarre town around me is connected via platforms, elevators, and secret passageways. Getting from one district to another not only takes skill, but expanding skill sets.

My first of these is a double jump, which I happen to pick up from another witch as she pushes some kind of contraband egg onto me. I don’t question it. The ability opens up whole new districts with potential customers, unique ingredients, and fresh recipes. Traveling even farther abroad takes some doing, with some paths only opening up at night while others are blocked until I can help a particular person.

With the influx of novel resources comes new concerns and deepening narrative. Part of the fun of unlocking a new cooking station, for example, is decorating my store’s interior and then experimenting with ingredients to uncover new recipes. Flavored flatbread, for example, was one creation I discovered by throwing baking essentials and some spices at the oven. And the mechanical underpinnings that make this all so easy are implemented in clever ways.

An in-game menu gives me access to unfilled orders, an ingredient list, known recipes, and more. I can at any point pin these to a board that pops in and out from the left of the screen for quick reference — an effective and much-appreciated way to see everything at a glance and then hide it to marvel at the world unimpeded. While in the menu and during cooking, I can quickly find anything I need for my dishes by sorting a quickly-expanding list of resources by type. Do I need a spice? I can filter for that. Does the dish require a vegetable? I can list all those out. It’s a small quality of life mechanic, but so useful.

I want to praise so many more little things — like allowing gardening and foraging so I’m not constantly beholden to making money or introducing a passive selling mechanic so I can profit off any mistake combinations — but my impressions are already growing long. However, I do want to communicate my intrigue for the story before wrapping up.

The whirlwind nature of my arrival, setting up shop, and finding myself in the midst of a secretive undertaking is compelling. Perhaps because I spent all my time finishing every side quest before following the main path, the ending felt abrupt after I’d invested so much care in the storyline. Seeing the real fruits of my labors would require a time jump (or a sequel, knock on wood!).

Honestly, I just wanted to live in Magical Delicacy‘s world for as long as I could and I’m sad to have no more discoveries, friends, or food to make.