What if you aren't a peasant and you want to use your rice to its full potential?
You gonna roast off some cumin, some turmeric, whatever spices you want in your rice cooker?
You gonna throw some butter and olive oil into that rice cooker to pick up and dissolve the roasted spices and add a little substance to that rice?
What about garlic? Shallots? Carrots? Cilantro? You gonna throw those in your rice cooker?
You gonna toss your rice in that mixture and let it saute a little bit so every single grain of rice is coated in an unbelievable savory and sweet mixture of roasted spices and caramelized vegetables in your rice cooker?
Nah, you're not. You're just going to sit there eating your plain white rice, satisfied with your ineptitude and ignorance for what that rice could be.
It takes 5 months for rice to reach full maturity once it's planted. 5 months of complex biological processes leading to that beautiful kernel of life. Thousands of years of refined genetics and farming techniques were passed down for each grain of rice that you touch.
Much like humans, every instance of rice dreams of a better life for the next one. Since 5000 BC each grain has begged to be used to it's full potential. Back then, the Chinese did. They did all they could to fulfill the dreams of the grains. In 2000 BC, they held rice ceremonies. The Japanese and Indonesians worshiped a Rice God. They respected it. The grains gave them life, so they gave life back.
You on the other hand, are a smug fucker disrespecting and systematically dismantling 7000 years of improvement.
You live in a world where no flavor is out of reach. You have cheap access to any rice. Any spice. Any vegetable. All you have to do is walk or drive to the nearest supermarket, probably 5 minutes away.
But you don't. You just put it in a rice cooker.
You can't hear it, but I can. I can hear the screams of every single grain of rice, begging to be used to its full potential. From conception to digestion, crying for a better life. You can't hear the blissful song of properly treated rice. I can. You cover your ears. You run away from the responsibility instilled in each and every grain.
I don't. In a world of neglect, I cherish.