Don't own, was tired.
There was a pie on Steve Roger's desk. It sat perfectly centered on the dark mahogany, golden-brown crust providing a pleasant contrast to the wood. Its shape was perfect, the pie crust creating a dome which sloped down to a neatly forked edge. Remnants of steam escaped from delicate swirls carved into the crust.
Steve often received gifts from admirers and well-wishers within SHIELD but none provided such a vision of perfection. The captain moved towards the beckoning dessert as if entranced. Gently picking up the knife placed next to the pie, he tenderly made his first cut.
And promptly threw the blade down in disgust.
Apple.
Why did everyone assume he enjoyed apple pies? He held the title Captain America, he wasn't America personified.
Steve Rogers was allergic to apples.