Shiro can't smile properly around the two skewers in his mouth but of course they're Zevran's handiwork. He hesitates a moment, then finishes shrugging his jacket off his arm, curving his shoulders so it slips down his partial arm, sweeping his arm across to catch it as it falls, folding neatly over the crook of his elbow, and reaches up to take both skewers in hand and remove them (both with considerable bites missing) in one seamless motion.

Once he's no longer chewing he nods his grave appreciation.

"They're wonderful."

There are a lot of... jars, set out on the table beside Zevran, and his brow quirks as he looks them over.

"You're a man of many talents, it seems."