The question is met with a noncommittal grunt. Taste is an afterthought. Most meat (and clothes, and jewelry still attached) go straight down the gullet. It was also a rare occurrence where he was given definitive permission to consume the nomnom.

Maybe -

"You want try?"

Unfortunately, he does not wait for an answer. In an instant of concentration, a hand-sized starfish pops! into existence, floating in the air between them.