[huffs at him, much in the tones of a housewife with her hands on her hips, exasperated in a wholly domestic way for the moment...

eventually he turns to his cluttered desk and fishes around in the papers, then hands over some takeout menus for places in the neighbourhood. he hasn't necessarily gotten takeout from all of them before, but he's certainly worked delivery for all of them by now, some time or another.]

If you're done fussing, tell me what I should order you for dinner.