[On the other hand, Toko wasn't rich. She was just, um. Discouraged from eating. Sometimes by force. When she got a little older she made simple things for herself, but never lingered in the kitchen longer than necessary. She had writing to do.

Safe to say that she is staring at the recipe with a face as sour as the lemons in the fruit bowl aside.]

What? J-just because I'm a girl, I ought to be good in the kitchen? Am I f-failure if I'm not? [Toko's hands clench on empty air, already seething. She then bends below the station. Starts pulling out drawers.]

The rest of the recipe has to be s-somewhere. They can't do this to us. Th-they wouldn't ask something so impossible...