He hmms. Nice food. It'd make a change to his usual sustenance. He scritches at his beard and asks the bar for turkey, and things that were plants, and orange juice. Gotta keep the scurvy at bay.

He picks up a turkey drumstick, because what else would a pirate want? He takes a chunk out of it and proceeds to talk with his mouth full.

"You can't get home? Why's that? Oop, sorry."

He picks a small bit of errant food from Andrew's arm.