[ There was a Finn energy to Gina's sous cheffery, which suited Jake just fine. What was grime but a little extra seasoning. He accepts them from her, splitting them in half before setting the flat end to the mandoline. ]

Uh... my mom, I guess? [ Weird question. ] And the dump, you can find all sorts of recipes in magazines. And natural, Glob-given talent. That part's crucial.

[ He rubs the potato along the mando, a pile of carefully shaved slices depositing beneath it. ]

You wanna find me some oil, kid? Peanut, if they got it?