"No allergies and no preferences," Daniel said. "I'm not in a mood to turn anything down. Judging by the state of this place--" He gestured to the burned kitchen, with special emphasis on the blackened tongues of soot that licked up the cabinets-- "I'll consider myself lucky to get whatever you have the goods to make. Aren't we supposed to stick to perishables for the time being? I thought I read something about that, but admittedly I was scanning pretty quick. So maybe omelets are still on the menu..."
He let his chair fall to the floor, scratching it loudly over the surface as he turned to better face their chef. He flashed a broad, bright grin. "What's your specialty?"