"Just as we're about to eat, a parachute appears bearing two supplements to our meal. A small pot of spicy red sauce and yet another round of rolls from District 3."

How extra. How decadent. Rolling on the floor laughing, because there are two explanations for this luxury.

1) Haymitch and the other mentors knew they'd be breaking them out that night, so at this point, may as well spend the sponsor money. You can't take it with you. Fuck it, we ball, send them some cocktail sauce.