[Felicia smiles up at him. The plate she's holding in one hand already has a couple of those tiny sandwiches on it, along with a few pieces of cheese and a miniature pizza thing]
Despite practically living on the things for the past few decades, after being imprisoned for these days past, I don't think I ever want to look at another ration bar.
Oh! Speaking of...
[she pauses in examining the food to reach beneath the front panel of her chasuble—apparently, there's a pocket there, because when her hand emerges again, it's holding a wrapped Imperial ration bar. She offers it to Gaunt]
Here. A taste of home, should you ever want it. Otherwise, it might make a nice paperweight, or doorstop.