I can already do meat pies, actually. I can start on those . . .

[She narrows her eyes at him, a silent warning not to start on her choice before he says anything. Rosalind heads for the pantry, starting to dig through it.]

The one thing I subsided on when I was seventeen and out of the Lutece manor. And then, thank god, my patron found me, and I could go back to eating hideously expensive things without having to prepare them.