[Oh, well. That certainly counts as moral support. The smile Hopeless gives Erskine is a little shy, and a lot blushing.]

Hot things, yes.

[Focus, Hopeless. He turns toward the counter to split the utensils and ingredients they're both going to need, and pulls over a little book in which he's been writing his recipes.]

From watching the cooks employed by my old employer. I used to be a valet. Here; this is the recipe we're using.]