Jell-o
'You know,' Natasha tells Tony once, when they're resting after a mission, both hurt and with orders to stay in the living a.k.a makeshift recovery room, 'the first time I ate jelly I was twenty two and it was only because I lost a bet with Clint.'
Then she puts a heaping spoon of the strawberry-flavored, vivid red dessert into her mouth.
'Why?' Tony asks around his spoon.
'I was sure the jiggly strange consistency would make me nauseous or something…'
'Who'd have thought: Natasha Romanov, the terror of S.H.I.E.L.D., scared of a food item toddlers love,' Tony teases and eats another spoonful of his jello-o. Natasha smirks at him, but then her face goes pensive.
'We never ate dessert… during the program. It was superfluous. And before…'
'Before?' Tony prompts, observing her closely.
'Before we always had kisel after dinner. Every day. And with whipped cream and dried fruit on Sundays,' she tells him, words sounding like a blurry, smudged photograph.
Tony remembers that, and the next time she is down after a bad mission, benched for a few weeks, he makes her kisel – takes him a few tries to get it right – every single evening until she recovers.