Adelaide begins to heat the pan, using a stingy dash of the oil - there is more in storage, but there won't always be. When it's hot enough she lays the strips of 'chicken' in, pre-cooking them before they'll go into the pies. Adelaide doesn't like to think about the someday that is out there, where these things don't exist anymore, but she's aware that even that Capitol's supplies and the shipments from the Department of Resources can't last forever. They'll just have to get creative when that happens.
When Archer nearly lets out the curse, Adelaide is hardly horrified. She grew up with some gritty language, to say the least, and though innocence probably ought to be a concern she's fairly certain that four-letter words are the least of Charlie's problems. She focuses instead on the point of what Archer is saying. "I can mend your shirt in a second, Arch, you shoulda told me," she says. Then she lifts her brows. "Matter of fact, you find me an example of what a four-star chief's shirt's supposed to look like, and I'm sure I can make you one. I was real handy with that sort of stuff, back when anybody cared," she smiles a bit.
She realizes that Archer has a ton more to worry about than what he's wearing, but she feels like maybe if she can fix that one thing for him, it'll at least be one less on his list. Better yet, make it two. "You drop that badge off to me, too, and I'll get it clean. First thing to being a good leader is learning how to delegate," she says, giving him a half-stern look. She doesn't like the idea of him staring down at the gore of his chief for as long as it would take to clean, and it's just one more thing she can easily do to help. Maybe at some point he'll get just the tiniest bit used to not shouldering absolutely everything himself.