Cougar shrugs, because he's stopped questioning what people like to put in their food a long time ago, having been to too many countries where genitals and the animals used for work are the ones who are being prepared and on a plate. He dips his finger into the potatoes again to suck it off, thoughtfully, but then settles on the counter.

"Cook something else," is his wise suggestion, if Jake doesn't like what it is that the people here have figured out for them. It's not like he likes it either, but Cougar can survive on anything put in front of him. He knows Jake can too, but there's so much more complaining when he has to do it.