What has six faces, but does not wear makeup, has twenty-one eyes, but cannot see? What is it?

In wraps or grilled, I steal the show, a yellow delight that loves to glow. I pair with meats, I'm quite the tease, a dairy delight that aims to please.

I am a prized vessel for a chef's tasty brew, But turn me backward, and a peak comes into view. Growing on a balcony or cooking on a flame, I am a regular in the kitchen; what is my name?

A keepsake lies, a tiny home for cherished ties. Tucked close, it holds a secret dear, a whisper of love worn near.

I let smoke leave the house, but I never walk out the door. What am I?