It wasn't a poor attempt to change the conversation, because it wasn't as if Summer would ever mind talking about it, but it was a poor attempt to conceal the attempt as so obvious. Summer was willing to allow it, though only after she basked a little over him maybe sweating more than a little about it already.

"I haven't," she admitted, regarding the hummus, "but now I am so going to try."

And then she was off.

"Okay, so," she started, "I don't remember, like, all the details? But I'm pretty sure it started in a class. Either Steeeeve Rogers made a joke, or I brought one as a joke, but there was something in class with a picnic, I don't even know why, but, anyway, there clearly had to be a horrible jello mold if there was going to be a picnic, right? And Steeeeeve got so thrilled about it that," she clung onto it desperately to fulfil the desperate need for approval from a strong male role model, "that I kept having to do it, right? And then Kanan tried some, and," again, with the approval, "and he would seriously eat practically anything, and so now I had a challenge to see if I could make a jello that Kanan wouldn't eat. And then Dr. Lecter," what was that about approval again, "my cooking teacher was really supportive and approving of my exploration of the art of aspic, too, and so now it's just become such a thing," or a desperate need to have something distinctive and memorable about herself in the eyes of others, "that I really can't just stop and disappoint all my fans. Plus, it was actually really popular in space; aliens loved that shit."