There's a ritual to it, alright. A method. Once his plates are set down in front of him, he moves clockwise from the top, occasionally stopping for a nibble toast or a sip of coffee. Cooper takes his time, savoring each bite like it's his last, like all the pigs in the world are dead and there ain't gonna be any more bacon. Or ham. Or - you get the picture.

"Do you need any more pancakes to go with that maple syrup?" he jokes, pointing toward Belle's plate with his fork. "I could ask the waitress to put in another order for you."