[ Following the established pattern of feeding her, Loki holds the bread to her mouth, positioning his other palm to catch the crumbs -- nearly a mirror image of the night she had fed him the bruschetta... were it not for his form being that of a woman in white robes and golden hair tied back with ribbon. ]

You'd enjoy koldskål, then -- cold soup of buttermilk, yogurt, and vanilla. Easily flavored. `Tis the wrong season, but your condition merits it.