He's perfectly happy to carry as much as she likes, not about to let her go hungry (or deny her anything even close to halfway reasonable), and follows her lead toward the booths, setting his plates down alongside hers. He blinks at her taking his hand the moment it's available, wondering for a second if he put something in the wrong place, before realizing she's pulling him over to the seat beside her. That gets a bashful grin but no resistance at all, and he squeezes her hand as he settles next to her, ducking closer to nuzzle into her hair softly.

"So, um... what d'you think we oughta start with?"

Frankly, his mind is still on her a lot more than the food, but that's surely no surprise. He'd have to be very hungry for food to compete at all, especially when he's pretty sure she plans to use that food as a means to flirt and tease and fluster him deliberately.