"...I... don't think I agree? I think it's fine to eat good food? Especially if there's a house-spirit involved. I guess I can't guarantee it'll care about your weight as much as you do, but it will care about your health, which seems to me to be the important thing."

Will it actually... okay but even so. "I mean, aren't those the same thing though?" 

"No???"

John tilts his head confusedly at her. "Huh? Everyone knows that. It's bad to be fat." (Why is she confused about this? Is someone in her family fat and he's being offensive? (Shit. It might be that.) He hasn't seen anyone, but...) 

"Yes, well, 'everyone' also 'knows' that magic doesn't exist, so that's about where my assessment of the Journal of Everyone Knows is standing."

"I mean, that's because of the Veil Laws and stuff, right? People actively trying to hide the truth from other people. But like, in terms of obesity and stuff, people have done science to show that it's bad for you, with cholesterol and stuff." He doesn't really know the science, admittedly, but like... it's so obviously true, right? Why is she confused about this? "It's not like there's a secret cabal of people keeping the truth about fatness and health hidden from the world." He pauses. "Is there? There isn't, right?" 

(He's also done with his pie now, and Rosy is nearly done with hers, and he doesn't want to be having this conversation when the next bit of food comes out (and also imagine what the house must feel, assuming it can understand what they're talking about, and then it brings out dessert), but he doesn't see any way to do anything about this. Which sucks.) 

"As far as I can tell, nutrition science is a deeply confused field, and people love to say the science is settled in their favour when it isn't, and I trust the house to know what health actually means and how to handle it more than I trust any mundane human no matter how many studies they've done, even though the house is definitely not omniscient."

"I feel like the science is pretty settled, though?" John says. "Like, everyone knows the stuff about, um, being fat, right? Right? And even if the house is trying to keep me healthy... I mean I guess it could be giving me smaller portions or something? I don't know. But regardless If it keeps feeding me stuff as delicious as this I'm going to eat way too much of it. And that's bad for me. Unless, I don't know, it was really tasty spinach or something? Which I bet it could do, this food is amazing, but like... how do you make spinach tasty without making it unhealthy? You know what I mean?" It's pretty sure she doesn't, from her face, but he should probably let her say something instead of repeatedly trying to explain. 

"I don't know about you, my love, but I trust this house to make basically any food delicious and healthy at the same time."

"That would take, like, magic though? I mean, I guess the house is magic, but still, healthy things are less tasty than unhealthy things. Well, most of the time. Whole grain bread is better than white bread and stuff. But for the most part, right? Like, is it doing magic to the food? Or maybe I should... maybe I should just trust you I guess?" Shit. He's really supposed to be trusting her. He said he would. And also maybe it's a bad idea to be arguing when dessert is coming soon. Maybe he can just say he trusts her (even though he has trouble believing her about this) and call the argument done? "Sorry." 

"...are you okay? Sorry, I might've gotten more aggressive than I meant to."

"I'm okay," John says. "Nothing to worry about. I just... I'm confused, I guess? But if you think the house won't make me fat, even if I eat here all the time, then I should trust you. Worst case I notice it happening and stop, I guess? Or do a lot more exercise." (Even though he barely does any on his own right now...) 

"I am also confused! But I'm definitely confident that no matter how often you eat here, you won't be less healthy as a result."

"I... okay. Okay sure." He doesn't really believe her, but he's supposed to, and he'll... see what happens? (Also hopefully the house isn't offended by what it could pick up from their conversation. He doesn't want to offend the house.) He peers over at Rosy's food, which is essentially gone. "Dessert time now?" he asks. 

"Sure."

She finishes her pie. The cart comes out to clear their plates, and then comes out again to deliver dessert.

And dessert is... is that a toasted marshmallow? A very large toasted marshmallow, that is. Or, not quite a toasted marshmallow, but something much like it, in the shape of... John is confused for several moments until it comes close enough for him to see what the yellowish object is atop the "marshmallow" is. It's a piece of beehive. And that's what the giant marshmallow thing is! It's... meringue, that's what it's called (like in lemon meringue pie), shaped like a cartoon beehive (why are they shaped like that, actually, the ones he's used to are box shaped, and the house has never seen cartoons before), the outside well toasted, orangey-brown and pretty, and there's a piece of honeycomb on top, with honey leaking out of it and running in driblets partly down the sides of the, well, beehive. 

The plates float into their proper places, and John picks up the one remaining spoon behind his plate, since that's all the silverware he has left. "I guess we should see what's inside?" he says to Rosy, admiring the both of their desserts. 

"Let's!"

She attacks her beehive with her spoon.

Inside is... ice cream? Pale-golden ice cream?

"...beloved, I think the house made us honey-flavoured ice cream."

She takes a little spoonful to taste, careful not to get any extraneous honey on it. That... hmm, she'll just try the honey too, to compare... yep. Honey-flavoured ice cream.

"Awesome.."

The lights blush faintly.

(It's really cute when they (it?) does that. He wants to make it do that. But... he's going to have to wait.)

John cuts through the beehive from the bottom, rather than the top (trying to remove a slice) and in addition to the (delicious!) honey-flavored ice cream in the middle, there's a small thin round of cake at the bottom, which is light and fluffy and also honey-flavored, and even though the flavor is similar it still feels different in his mouth with the ice cream and meringue in a very tasty way. "Yeah! This is really great," he says, wishing that the house would hear him and respond. He too tries the honeycomb for comparison. "I've never had honey flavored ice cream before," he muses. "It's tasty!" 

"It's pretty great! I wonder why it isn't more popular?"

Om nom nom. She's more mining her beehive than slicing it, but it'll all come out the same in the end. It does mean she takes longer to get to the cake layer than John, though.

"I don't know! Maybe it's not cheap to make, or something? I bet honey is more expensive than regular sugar. Unless they have artificial honey flavor. Do they have artificial honey flavor?" They probably do, they have lots of artificial flavors. It probably doesn't taste as good as this does, though. 

"I have no idea. I'd expect so. I don't know, though, artificial flavours rarely come out right, maybe artificial honey flavour is just too weird and bad to make ice cream out of."

"Well, even if other people don't get to enjoy it, whatever the reason, we do. We get a house that is an excellent chef to make it for us," John says, wistfully wishing the house could actually hear him yet. (It will eventually. He needs to stop dwelling on this!) 

"Mhm!!"

Ice cream! ✨

The meringue really adds something, texturally speaking. As does the cake, when she makes it that far.

It's all very tasty, and fun, and sweet, and the honey really makes it more than just pure sweetness. It's fun. And John manages to get through the whole thing without realizing that they haven't been having any conversation. (Shit.) Fortunately, Rosy doesn't seem to mind (thank goodness!). Unfortunately, he's finished before her once again, and now he's not sure what to talk about. "Well, that was delicious," he manages after a few moments, watching Rosy work on what remains of her dessert. "The whole meal, actually. The house did a really good job." 

"It really, really did." She takes another bite of ice cream and wiggles delightedly.