Ed lets his elbow be taken, somewhat absent because he's already scanning, looking for trouble, for marks, for familiar and unfamiliar things. He can't help it still, hypervigilant against a hostile world.

Oswald's words bring a slow growing smile to his face though, and he nods slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm not going to try and make anything Hungarian or Italian. But... mm, I have some ideas." He pulls out his device and starts texting, putting together an ingredient list.