Frederick helps with the cooking

So, I had just made a big pot of red beans Cajun-style that I thought would provide me with sustenance for at least 3 meals, and I pottered upstairs to set up the bathroom for Frederick's evening ablutions and such, when I heard scampering from down below and the unmistakable sound of a saucepan lid clanging.  Now this usually means that Frederick is "checking" on the cooking, but as the pot was so hot I was worried he'd burn himself.  So I went downstairs and found that he was sitting on the sofa looking all innocence.  And when I went in the kitchen, nothing seemed disturbed.  I checked on the food - it looked fine.  Delicious, even:

Then I noticed over by the fridge that the dish of fancy big rock salt was empty, except for smears of what looked like tomatoey sauce and I feared the worst.  And indeed, on tasting the food my mouth turned inside out like Poppleton eating grapefruit, or like a baboon that a Mahalahari man wants to use to find water.  Sigh.  Salads for me.