[ gingerly pulling out a big tub of vichyssoise now, with a low 'hn' in response to her being able to see what he's brought. ]

Good, then. And since you can't be trusted with fire right now— [ he gestures towards the ovens with a look that says do not even try to operate these things in your condition, before pointing back down to his offering. ] —this is chilled soup. You don't need to heat it, so don't try.

[ cue an awkward silence here as he tries to think of what else he can say... he feels vaguely stupid about this already. ]