In The Quacks of Quedlinburg, players sometimes seem more like terrible chefs than the dodgy practitioners of homebrewed medicine its box depicts.
Players brew a concoction by pulling ingredients at random from a personal blind bag of tokens, chucking them into their individual pot. It’s quantity over quality. Your woeful attempt at pumpkin and toadstool soup quickly fills with garden spiders, crow skulls and ghosts’ breath. Not exactly minestrone.