"I don't know steak or cow," she says. "I know-- cheese."

She hadn't known the word until just now, but it't not hard to figure out by process of elimination; this sandwich only has so many ingredients. She's never seen it cut into a square shape, or sliced so thinly, but the smell is familiar enough.

Sandwich in hand, she wastes no time in taking a big bite, chewing thoughtfully and letting out a small hum. It's approval. Sort of.