"Let me know if you figure that out," he says: half the things his mother cooked with were pickled, and he's missed the flavor for awhile now. "How do they store the food around here? It sounds like there's been enough time to work something out."

Food's food, but it'll be good to know if everything's salted or just stuffed in the snow when it falls. Maybe they're going to stay out the winter on a supply of fucking jam.