Alastor snorted. "I know I'm a heavy eater, but I can't eat all of this alone. It'll be set out in a few minutes for you all."

It was a damn good thing there were so many people here. When Alastor felt antsy, he had a tendency to cook. A lot. (Husk called it "stress cooking".) Feeding others meant the food wasn't wasted.

And, honestly, most people wouldn't eat the food because Alastor was the one who made it. It was a nice change to have people appreciate his cooking.