"I am woefully sorry to inform you that no cook book on Earth could prevent me from burning your house down. It'll just make sure I don't combine That Which Shall Not Be Melded into a pasta bake of devastation," she informed him as she set a package of chicken breasts into the grocery cart.
"But, you know, I guess I could read some of your crusty, old books. You'd be surprised at the amount of crusty things I've read, actually." Buffy paused, realizing she may have indeed said too much there. There was no need to let him know all the ancient tomes Giles had made her sit through to familiarize herself with vampire and werewolf and witch legend. "You know, ancient man has long studied the mating habit of the buffalo, and mom was such a fan." The attempt at recovery was ham-fisted at best, and she had to wince.