He's not very confident about slang but context helps - oh, yes, humans might well consider eating and digging to be similar acts, with the implements and the piles. Alloran picks up the thin and flimsy plastic spoon, as something that looks easier to operate than the other options, and moves in on the eggs.

They were probably reconstituted in bulk from a powdered form but heck if he can tell. The yielding texture means less time needed to grind it with those exposed bones so many mouth-people have, in fact it doesn't quite need to be processed with them at all. What a strange and interesting experience. Like the coffee, the curious intensity of it pulls him into the present moment, into the here and now and this body.

Speaking with food in the mouth, if he remembers right, is a violation of etiquette, and he's adding more rather than clearing it. Alloran switches to thought-speech, which is mostly perceived like sound, but not quite. Because Saturday's heard him talk through his Aria morph, that voice is probably how she'll hear his thought-speak.

<It has a tingle to it. Astonishing.>