I wrote another anyway.
Lightning:
Why would you spend time cooking when there's WORK to do? Lightning dragons are a fan of convenience and speed of consumption, and so they invented the smoothie. For Ridgebacks, this traditionally means a big, frothy concoction of concentrated krill and sardines that, quite frankly, stinks to high heaven. But that's okay! The stink means it's nutritious! Every clan has their own secret recipe.
Other breeds living in the Shifting Expanse quickly adapted their own versions of the krill smoothie for any given diet. Traditionally, tougher meats are left to boil overnight to 'tenderize,' then mashed to a paste and packed into a hollow shell or horn to be gulped down on the job. Turtle smoothies, cockroach smoothies, even chicken smoothies! Almond or soy milk is a desirable addition for the dragons that can digest it, as it smooths the texture of the smoothie. Otherwise, it becomes more of a 'meaty mush.' Insect eaters almost always add a coffee bean moth, or several, to their 'brew'. Java sparrows are a must for meat eaters for similar reasons.
However, the more recent alchemical invention of soylent has overhauled the Lightning culinary scene. What is lost in terms of texture and taste is easily made up for with virtues such as 'easily portable,' 'mass produceable,' and 'can provide all daily nutritional needs in less than a minute of consumption.' Today, most Lighting dragons eat soylent on all but the most special occasions, when they might sneak out for a (gasp!) quick break to fry up a few locusts or a hogfish.
Another!
Light:
The Sunbeam Ruins are the home to Imperials, which eat anything and everything with impunity, and their preferences have informed the region's cuisine, including that of Pearlcatchers. Traditionally, meals in the Light flight are small-portioned but frequent, use many different ingredients, and are fastidiously, intricately put together. If dragons had Instagram, Light Flight's foods would be the most 'instagrammable.' Picture sunkernel flatbread topped with a delicate salad of dustbowl ivy greens and arranged with featherduster worms and jewel moth antennae set up to look like trees and lush undergrowth, garnished with a fine dust of moth wing-powder to resemble snow. Or oyster shells filled with seared eel fillets, topped with drizzles of colorful seaberry sauce and rosepetal puree, and garnished with a single satin violet. Or a tiny roast sparrow stuffed with quinoa, carved into a shape reminiscent of a flower and garnished artfully with fresh bees. If european-style pastry exists at all in Sornieth, it was invented by Light Flight. Who else would put such care into petit-fours, marzipan, or macarons?
That said, much of traditional Light cuisine is criticized for being beautiful, but inadequately-seasoned, and often inedible to any but Imperials and Guardians. Some chefs native to the region defend this trend by claiming that the culinary arts are elevated when they go beyond the need to be, precisely, edible. And while Light chefs will deny ever using truly toxic substances in their creations, you may on occasion run into one who thinks it's very avant-garde to add old wing bones, pine branches, or other inedible plant and animal parts to improve the appearance of their food.
Today, Light Flight prides itself on being cosmopolitan and modern, yet intellectually snobbish, which influences its approach to food. Although the region imports foods from all around Sornieth to enrich its cuisine, products 'grown/hunted/gathered in Light Flight' are generally considered the best quality. Compared to some other flights, the quantity of spices and herbs used in the Sunbeam Ruins is spare, which is appreciated by the spice-averse but can be disappointing to visitors accustomed to more seasoning.
Shadow:
The Shadow flight is well-known for its tricksters, mischief-makers, and experts in various forms of deception. This tendency extends into Shadow's cuisine, which is, quite literally, rarely what it looks like. Even though the original Nocturne inhabitants of Shadow have a diet limited to meat and insect foods, they still show great creativity in their mock cookery, making liberal use of ground, pounded, molded, skinned, glued, jellied, dipped, sliced, and otherwise modified animal parts, recombining them in endless artful and realistic arrays of mimicry, sometimes not even imitating an item of food! Most apprentice Shadow chefs start with 'let's make a rock out of dried ants,' and go on from there. Mock items and mock familiars are common. One charming and wholesome rite of adulthood in some Shadow clans is to commission a life-size 'mock' of the newly-adult dragon, then share it with the rest of the clan. Usually, the lucky adolescent gets to eat their own head.
The re-emergence of Veilspun into draconic society has hugely broadened the culinary palette of the Shadow Flight. Imagine rose petals pinned carefully with cactus spines onto a dusk jadevine, until one has an edible sculpture eerily reminiscent of a sakura owlet. Or, imagine a steamed ball of maggots, sculpted into a sphere and wrapped in paper-thin grasshopper wings to look like an apple, a single spider leg on top serving as the stem. Competitions with this kind of 'mock' food are common, and the most cultured form uses items from only a single food group to look like an item from a different one. Most dragons can still tell what they are being served by smelling it first, but it can still be confusing. When one's dinner hosts are Shadow dragons, having a sense of humor is paramount.
Shadow dragons clearly love to make one thing look like another, but leaf insects, bee orchids, and living stones (amongst others) are foods reserved for special occasions, as these rare delicacies hardly need any modification to look like something else.
Shadow flight invented gelatin molds by boiling down the bones of unlucky stompers, (inventing glue along the way) and use it frequently. Gelatin is very useful for making mock food. Shadow cuisine's use of gelatin tends towards savory aspics rather than sweet jellies even when incorporating plant foods, but modern fusion cuisine has brought honey and fruit flavors into the mix.
The Shadow region also exports a lot of food, including many famous flavorings like hot blacktongue chilis, dandelion seeds, and oddly-addictive blackberries. Usually, these foods are not adulterated, since even the most devoted Shadow dragon knows that the majority of foreigners lack an appreciation of the deceptive arts, including mock food. Still, occasionally something slips through: an application of dye to make a lovebird look like a bog canary, or mixing acorn meal in with the powdered moths.
Just to keep the other flights on their toes.
Nature:
I know what you're thinking: Salad. But this cannot be farther from the truth. Gladekeeper's creations are carnivores through and through. However, there is a kernel of truth to this, since they also, traditionally, don't hold much appreciation for fire. In the Shrieking Wilds, the most a Wildclaw might do is cut their steaks into an appealing shape before eating it, or perhaps mash the meat up for a novel texture.
Today, raw is still king in the Viridian Labyrinth, no matter the foodstuff, though plant-eating dragons are encouraged by societal taboo to eat mostly fruits, flowers, and some leaves, and to leave roots and seeds alone. That's a whole plant you're eating, you murderer.
That said, some Nature dragons have started combining foods, inspired by immigrants from other regions. Caterpillars wrapped in thin-sliced wallaby meat, fish marinated in fruit juice to make poké, or delicate elk carpaccio served with plantains. Good knife skills and extremely fresh ingredients are a must, to the extant that the chopping of the food alone is an entire hobby on its own, whether or not the dragon has natural knives built into their feet. Indeed, for some Nature chefs the flashy entertainment that comes with the preparation is even more important than the taste of the resulting dish.
Plague
FERMENTATION. You'd think these dragons would be all about raw food because SURVIVAL, but what could possibly be more pleasing to Plaguebringer than using microbes to make rotting dead stuff tastier? If actual dairy exists in Sornieth, which is debatable, then Plague flight definitely would have been the first to discover yoghurt, and if alcohol exists in Sornieth, then Plague flight discovered beer. But even if not, Plague dragons, from the original Mirror inhabitants to today, have probably tried fermenting just about everything edible (and probably some things that technically aren't).
Fermented fish and shellfish is a traditional Plague delicacy, including fish sauce, fermented shrimp, fermented squid, and fermented shark. In a traditional Mirror pack, any meat or fish not eaten right away is wrapped in hides, buried, left behind, then returned to in a few months or even years and then unearthed with great celebration. The odor is part of the authentic experience!
In the modern day, fermented vegetables have also been added to the menu. Pickles and saurkrauts are common condiments, and even fermented flatbreads have joined the fray. Natto, miso, and soy sauce have become staples, and any veggie-eating Plague dragon worth their pustules can expound at length on the various kinds of stinky tofu. Some settled regions of Plague, especially those bordering the Wyrmwound, have made a big name for themselves on the culinary scene by inventing goat-meat salami.
Another one!
Ice
In the desolate Southern Icefield, what would be more comforting after a long day of patrol than a warm stew? Cooked over hot coals and warmed with heated stones, Ice cuisine is characterized by hearty, filling soups and stews. The original Gaoler inhabitants of the Icefield often make "perpetual stews" - huge cauldrons into which any chopped-up edible material can be put after it is brought to the lair. The pot is rarely ever emptied all the way, and liquid is added as necessary, building up a complex flavor profile. There are rumors of perpetual stews left cooking for centuries, or, according to Gaoler lore, since the dawn of the Fourth Age. Since the reemergence of Gaolers into draconic society, these perpetual stews have become popular again.
Since the Southern Icefield is a harsh environment, every last scrap of food is used, including tough parts that pickier cultures would consider inedible. Skins and bones are cooked down over and over into deeply flavorful broths, along with vegetable peelings, seeds, and rinds. Ice clan kitchens are frugal and their dishes filling.
Many Ice dishes are seasoned to be simultaneously sweet and savory, as most Tundra don't tend to make a distinction between 'meal' and 'dessert.' Cinnamon is a popular flavoring, as is peppermint. Honey may be added liberally, as well as quantities of umami-rich foods like mushrooms or onions.
Food storage and spoilage is rarely a problem in the Southern Icefield. Clans with anything leftover (that they do not want to throw in the perpetual stew) can simply freeze it by burying it in a snowbank. Modern Ice clans may do so with soups in a shaped metal mold, resulting in a frozen block of soup. Traditionally, this would be re-melted inside when the time came to eat it, but immigrants to the Ice flight have introduced the concept of eating it while still frozen, lick-by-lick, a novelty to those from warmer regions. These 'flavored ice' chunks didn't take off in popularity, however, until the innovation came of
shaving these flavored ices into a kind of tasty artificial snow. Shaved ice is considered by traditionally-minded Gaolers to be a too-fussy delicacy, but it is very widespread amongst modern Ice clans, who now make special sweet-savory 'soups' specifically for purposes of freezing and shaving. Almond milk is a particularly-popular addition.