（ that actually gets him to chuckle, and he sort of shakes his head as he does it, rubbing his free hand through one side of his beard as if it itches. his favourite way hasn't exactly been viable for decades now, at least not back home. here — hell, it'll probably be as close as he ever gets again to those days on some rocky lakefront beach while the happy shrieks of children fill the air. he'd had an apron that said kiss me, i'm irish that sarah thought was hilarious seeing as how he absolutely wasn't in anything approaching recent memory. he scratches at his jaw, and then: ）

Grilling's nice. Reckon it shouldn't be hard to replicate the recipes from back home here, so long as they haven't banned salt along with coffee.

（ he's hoarding what he got from jimmy, but he still ain't happy about it. ）