"I can make whatever end product I have in mind any time. For a human it's more efficient to call in a demon to fill a warehouse with an ingredient, then sell it to people who will cook it conventionally, so some weird stuff only appears in high end restaurants."

"That makes sense." She considers. "Do demons eat things that would poison humans?" 

"We can, but it's not the culinary frontier you might imagine. Most things that would poison humans don't taste that good."

"...Huh. I wonder if that's a me thing or a kid thing." 

"Do poisonous things taste good to you?"

"I don't know if they still do but when I was small enough to fit through doors I used to go run around outside at night when Mother and Grandfather were sleeping and I ate lots of things that Mother freaked out when she found out about. Especially the mushrooms." 

"I'm sure there are demons - and angels and maybe even particularly determined fairies - who play around with eating poison as a hobby, and I've tried antifreeze once myself, and like literally everything someone could be interested in there are probably surprising depths to the pastime. The standard demon eatery has mostly food a regular human could eat though."

"Okay. Well, I can't complain about the results." 

"Oh good. Here, have dessert." He can make a little ice platform for a big cheesecake in her foodtub so it doesn't touch the salmon residue, which the Scrubba™ hasn't gotten to yet.

And he picks up his research on how they will be retrieving the late Mr. Franklin again.

CHEESECAKE IS AWESOME. 

He can continue to find useful tweaks for at least a few more days. 

And when it's as good as can be:

"Ready to try to raise the dead?"

"Ready and willing." 

"Eeeeeeeeeee." Bounce bounce bounce. 

One fresh Ben Franklin corpse with patched up lungs, go.

The spell goes off without a hitch. 

Benjamin Franklin opens his eyes. He inhales, then his brow furrows and he breathes again. 

He sits up and looks around. 

"Hello, Mr. Franklin! How are you feeling?"

"My chest doesn't hurt. Is this Heaven?" 

"It is not! This is an orbital habitat above the Atlantic Ocean I made for doing magic experiments on. I suspected you'd be okay with being the subject of a resurrection experiment based on your writings on the topic. It's delightful to meet you; I'm Cam, that's Wilbur, and the invisible party over there is Lucy."

...He looks at where Cam indicated an invisible party. 

"Hi," Lucy supplies helpfully. 

Ben Franklin returns his attention to Cam. "Who are you? Why are we over the Atlantic? How are we over the Atlantic? Why do you have wings and why is the lady over there invisible?" 

"I'm Cam, like I said. The Atlantic happened to be closer than the Pacific. We flew here in a flying vehicle. I made the wings; I can make arbitrary material objects. She is invisible for peculiar heritage reasons."

"I mean are you with a government or other organization or working alone. How can you make arbitrary material objects? How arbitrary is arbitrary? What kind of peculiar heritage reasons?" 

"I am working alone. Well, Wilbur and Lucy are consulting. I have magical powers because I am from another dimension; arbitrary is pretty arbitrary with limits like 'it'd take me a few weeks to make a planet' and 'not antimatter' - antimatter being stuff that is the opposite of matter and mutually annihilates it if they come into contact. Their dad is some kind of monstery god thing."