"You can, actually," he said lightly. "I don't exactly know what they do to it, but it works. It's sort of weird, but good...the ice cream's still cold, but with warm, crispy cake around it?"
Greasy warm crispy cake. And powdered sugar. Maybe chocolate or caramel sauce. That sounded fantastic right about now, but he'd only had it once, about a year and a half ago on tour...somewhere. Everything started to blend together after a while, including what you ate where, regardless of how good an impression it had made.
Orsino pushed some chips around his plate, searching out the darkest and crispiest first. He wondered if it would be silly for him to get take away from here daily. Probably. It wasn't exactly around the corner.
Nor, did it seem, was getting to the debacle of Monday Night. It didn't even have to be a debacle, but it was going to feel like one until they just sorted it out. Orsino wasn't sure if Penny had been avoiding it on purpose or not, but she was clearly a master of small talk. Something he appreciated, actually, since he always had a hard time with such things, but still.
"So, ice cream and crispy cakes aside," he said, almost reluctantly, was he stabbed at the fillet of cod with a fork, the white flaky insides breaking apart perfectly. "Hm. Well. I thought it'd be best to...just...figure out about Monday? First. Or now, anyway."