"Then I guess it's good I'm not working on a midnight feast," Foggy answered, used to people sharing their thoughts freely like Richie -- growing up in Hell's Kitchen taught a person that nobody has true privacy. The speaker looked familiar, but Foggy assumed most people he encountered here would become familiar eventually.
Getting everything set up was the hardest part. Well, after working out the proper ratios.
Looking over the meat he pulled out from the fridge, he did some quick math in his head. He had gotten good at eyeballing the fat content in meat. "Sausages," He started, looking back at the other man. "Mostly pork ones, but there was some chicken and a little bit of venison that I found, too."