K.
He asked K, already walking towards the small round table across the counter.
"Hmm," K quiesced, grabbing for some plates, forks and bread knives on the cupboard. "I don't really get French toast. It's messed up. First, it's soaked in milk, only to be fried in a crazy amount of butter just so it could get a little crispy on the outside, and somehow try be edible again." She explained, bringing the utensils to the table. "I guess I just don't like the texture of it. But, heh, I could try. I always love trying out messed up things." She beamed suggestively at Jesse.