At least it smells fantastic, despite the reruns of Barefoot Contessa playing in the background on repeat — Ina’s tinkling yet posh laugh echoing from the TV was accompanied by the frantic flips of the crisp pages of a cookbook, and a warzone of a kitchen in the making. But none of that matters right now, as Jeff willingly unhinges his jaw to obediently taste test whatever is set before him.

It’s all instinctual. No need for a thorough inspection, whether that was by smell or a pause to truly think about what was being handed over. There’s a mutual trust shared with the hand that’s feeding him. And perhaps the best part of all?

It always tastes good.

The landshark isn’t one to judge the gastronomical prowess of another though, or question exactly what a ‘dinner party’ is. There might be splatters of oil by the stove and spilled batter on the countertops, but he’s not picky. In fact, he’ll have things all squeaky clean using only his tongue if you’ll let him.

“Mrr?” Jeff chirps, blinking in curiosity as another spoonful of unknownness is shoved near his mouth, before sniffing curiously. Hm. Vanilla? Sugar? Perhaps even something citrusy?

On her show, Ina cooks for her Jeffrey all the time, but also explains all the different scents and flavor profiles of whatever dish she’s making. He may not live in the idyllic East Hamptons. But maybe even a baby shark could learn to do the same, and come to truly appreciate the service and love that goes into the culinary arts.

He opened his mouth yet again, but this time, took a few moments to let it settle on his tongue to truly savor the taste.

“Mmmrrr,” he hums in contentment.

Now, isn't that fabulous?