Steve's pleasure had always been as obvious as his displeasure, if somewhat trickier to win. She could remember one of the very early stylists on the team likening him to summer- sunny and bright when he was happy, but overwhelmingly oppressive when not. It was an apt description, because a cheerful Steve was a very different and far more agreeable creature than the sort who picked fights and glowered at everyone like they'd mortally offended him and every ancestor that might've come before.
Peggy couldn't help but smile in response, watching Steve from beneath her lashes as he spoke. "You didn't tell me," she agreed, "But I can see how it would've been." It probably still was, especially since he could recreate the recipe. Favorites stuck like that, and she couldn't see him throwing over the familiar and filling for little canapés from the Capitol. Even Peggy didn't care for most of the food there, because breathing flavored air and eating delicately scented foams might be trendy but it was hardly satisfying. She'd learned to make sandwiches and soups, mostly; easy things that didn't take a lot of steps and couldn't be ruined because Peggy's brain wanted to overcomplicate things. And that really was her problem in the kitchen. She could follow directions more than well enough, but she'd try to pull them apart and figure out why, and then she'd have a disaster instead of a cookie. No one could eat a disaster.
She'd made people try, though. Steve and Bucky had been among the early victims, too kind to tell her how awful things had been. Not that she didn't know. Peggy was perceptive, thanks.
It was how she knew Steve was avoiding conversation with her by filling his cheeks like a chipmunk. She'd let it go for a while, eating in more delicate bites, taking the occasional sip of wine that paired surprisingly well with more rustic food than she would've anticipated. "I've never understood people who don't want a sweet dessert. What good is it unless it has chocolate?" Peggy sighed, wistful. Fruit was fine for breakfast, but desserts were really meant to be sinful.
"You know, the way Bucky spoke about your cooking, I was worried we'd need a backup plan." It was lightly spoken, a careful attempt to work sideways into conversation about Steve's latest, and juiciest rumors. Peggy didn't believe them, of course. They were absurd. But still, they'd have to talk about it because Bucky wanted her to play it off as if they were perfectly believable (and therefore heartbreaking), and she really did hate to keep tarnishing a reputation needlessly.