[Soldat collects the cupcakes, sniffs them suspiciously, brings them inside to try.

Well. Fuck. The guy is trying, they've gotta give him that. And honestly, Soldat can be utterly terrified of someone and still like them. And these are really good.

So they track down Kal-El (Kal? Maybe El was the family name) with one cupcake in hand. Holds it up, gives it a little shake as if trying to make a point or perhaps looking for the right words, and then finally asks without preamble,]

Do you have the recipe for this.