Wait, what. It takes Jim a couple seconds to truly parse what just happened, and while there's a bite of anger in his chest for a moment - an entirely illogical and unreasonable nagging voice of I trusted you, why would you do that to me - he reminds himself that it was his own idea in the first place. His agitation dims further as he recognizes that despite his distress, about food of all things, his grasp of present events has remained firm the entire time.

But, of course, just because it hasn't provoked the curse doesn't mean he doesn't have lingering issues over the thought that any decent quantity of food has gone to waste. "So... it's fine?" he asks, wishing that his stupid brain could just accept it without having to be told.