“Sausage, onions, and peppers,” he replies, then shrugs one shoulder. “And whatever cheese they want, might as well let ‘em customize it a little.”

He takes a sip of his tea, torn between amusement and a slight bit of exasperation that he’s actually discussing what kind of meal at a restaurant should be named after him. It happens, where he’s from, but he’s not the kind of guy he’d thought it’d happen to. “Maybe I’ll stop by once it’s there, see how they did.”