"Looks can be deceiving. Those tiny sausage carts, among the many other kinds of street food that can be found in New York, are some of the best eats in the world. Maybe I've got simple tastes, but I think you can do pretty well on a few dollars. I'm a sucker for roasted nuts and soft pretzels. There are several that sell real food that I love, too. We'll get something sometime when we go out for a walk."
It was probably a little sexist, but it was also just smart in his opinion: girls needed to be taught to defend themselves. Having a younger sister and any number of women he was fond of within Syndicate along with a dead mother, he was a huge advocate of women's self-defense. He didn't believe that men were inherently more violent or anything like that, just that there was a longstanding tradition of women being targets and victims. If he could help anyone dear to him avoid becoming one, then he'd do everything that he could. "Of course, you could always just call me and ask me to go with you whenever you need to leave the building. Nobody's going to bother you with me around. And even if they do, it won't be much of a problem." He smirked, kidding. Partially. He did make a pretty good bodyguard without having to do much at all. Such was the advantage of being hulking and menacing of stature.
"If there's one thing I know, it's good food." Satisfied with her bite, he took a big one of his own, making sure to get sour cream topping, cheesecake filling, and the graham cracker crust all in one bite. Sticking it in his mouth, he let out a contented sigh. "Little pleasures. The world needs more frivolous afternoon cheesecake." And fewer cemeteries, he thought.