[ Jim resolutely does not get the ancient meme, and if a look of bemused puzzlement slides across his expression for a second, he blessedly is smart enough not to outright ask her what it means and earn himself an Old Man Roasting.

He's been improving, since the situation demanded it! The future doesn't exactly lend itself to cooking being a necessary skill. If he's cooking, he's charring something into an edible state over a fire because he's stranded somewhere. Pike liked to cook, as a hobby, but Jim had never taken up with it himself.

He does kind of get it now, though, even if trying to figure out new recipes so he doesn't get bored of the same three things is a pain in the ass, and even if he gets the steps wrong some of the time (ask Spock for the specific stats and Jim will whack you with a spoon). ]

Nah, these are almost done. Actually - why don't we make some hot chocolate to go with them? [ Jim busies himself with prepping the next tray, scraping the remains of the cookie dough out of the bowl and beginning to shape it into appropriately-sized cookie balls. He points to a cabinet off to the side, glancing to Gwen. ] There's cocoa powder in there.

[ Why is it stored with the liquor, amid bottles of rum and whiskey? Jim thinks he's hilarious, that's why. ]