Sam had armed himself with his EMF detector, and was about to begin an recon-mission into the kitchen to procure the salt from his creaky cupboards and figure out what was possessing them when he heard the knock.
Stuffing the device into his pocket, he made his way toward the door, squinting through the peep-hole in an attempt to determine who might be dropping in on him. Was it too much to hope for a Dean? Yeah, probably. But whoever it was, she didn't look dangerous.
He opened the door a bit, peering at her inquisitively. At least, he hoped it was inquisitiveness, and not suspicion that he was giving her. He wasn't trying to be rude. The poltergeist--or whatever it was inhabiting his kitchen--was just making him a little jumpy.