Alastor made jambalaya for everyone in the hotel every once in a while, but since you came a little later, and never had the chance to try such an exquisite dish (or perhaps you did while living), he figured he should pass down the recipe to another, just incase he ever disappeared, and never came back again.

Which is, admittedly, quite morbid, but Alastor liked you enough to trust you with his mother’s special recipe, and maybe even more after you both were done cooking such a delightful comfort meal.

“I bet you’re wondering as to how we got such fine ingredients for our delicious meal,” chatted Alastor, inspecting a blood red tomato. His sleeves were rolled up and he had a gingham apron on. “Well, my dearest, it’s better if you don’t let your pretty head worry about that! Or where the meat came from…”

Well, cooking with Alastor was going to be an experience for sure.