Author's Note- The inspiration of this piece came when I found out that there is at least ten different regional types of clam chowder across the United States. Hopefully you all will find it kind of funny. But before we get to that time for a quick shout out to all you wonderful reviewers. Thank you to BloodLily16, saoirsewolf, HorseLuver713, Hare787, and guest.

Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia, or Apple, or BigOven. I do cook a lot though.

BigOven

It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining, birds were singing, and Russia was totally was totally driving him nuts. After yet another conference call with the former Soviet Nation basically blaming the west for the current situation in Ukraine, America had been frustrated enough to punch a hole into his office wall. After that his bosses at the state department decided to give him the rest of the day off.

The first thing America did when he got home was dig out his running shoes. He spent the afternoon running off his frustration and sweating in the heat of the day. By the end of his 30 mile jog his legs were starting to get shaky and his feet felt like lead. He couldn't run much farther without causing harm to his nation so he headed back home.

When he got there his normally welcoming home felt off. America knew that it was because he was still frustrated by how powerless he felt about aiding his allies, but he wasn't quite sure how to calm himself down. He scanned his house looking for some sort of distraction. He found it in his spacious kitchen. Cooking always calmed his nerves. He needed calming, now all he had to do was figure out what he was going to cook.

Wiping the sweat off his face and America booted up his computer, pulled up his BigOven app, and started to scroll through more than 250,000 recipes possible dishes for dinner. He wanted something easily to make, comforting, yet not overly heavy. He found perfect dish after about fifteen minutes of searching. With a smile he updated his facebook status.

'Bad day at work. Thinking about making a nice loaf of bread and a big bowl of clam chowder for dinner.'

America sent the recipe to the printer, while stripping out of his sweaty shirt. He dropped the item of clothing in the hall on the way to the bathroom, were he finished undressing and took a good, 20 minute hot shower. By the end, the nation was beginning to feel human again. He was actually starting to look to a low key evening. His contented calm ended as soon as he returned to his computer he discovered status had lead to a massive argument. The computer peeped again as the next comment popped up.

'Well if you are going to make clam chowder you are going to need a good salty, smokey cut of pork.' Delaware suggested. 'I know a great little butchers shop not far from D.C. where you could pick that up.'

'Are you kidding, what he really needs is some cold smoked salmon.' California countered.

'Pork.'

'Salmon.'

'Hot chili peppers.' Florida threw in for good measure.

'I can't believe you just said that.' Maine typed clearly in horror. 'I mean it is such a simple dish all you need is clams, potatoes, salt, and milk.'

'Tomatoes!' New Jersey through in her two cents.

'Cream!'

'Neither!'

'Both!'

'What!?' A half dozen states typed.

'Clam chowder should be made with broth.' North Carolina explained.

'Or, a tomato cream sauce." New York pointed out.

'You have got to be kidding me.' Massachusetts wrote.

'Hey, I am a big state so I have two styles of clam chowder, Manhattan and Long Island.' New York defended himself.

'Neither of those really counts as real clam chowder.' Connecticut started on a rant and the nation decided that it was time to stop the decision.

'You know what,' America typed in a new status, 'the weather is so nice outside that I think that I should make some BBQ instead.'

No sooner had he hit send then the replies began to pour in.

'I have a really great vinegar marinade recipe that I could send you.' North Carolina answer popped up quickly.

'Your ridiculous marinades take what twelve hours. Now if he uses a Memphis style sauce all you have to do is basted things.' Tennessee started.

'But they he would have to cook it for way to long.' Texas shot back. 'Why not cook quickly.'

'Dry rub is the only way to go!' Chided Missouri.

'Wet all of the way!' North Carolina countered.

'What type of smoker are you planning on using?' Tennessee interjected. 'Because if you are using the wrong type of smoker you are totally not making BBQ.'

Just watching the stream of comments on the web was starting to give America a headache. He was just about ready to give up on cooking dinner and go get a few KFC buckets or a whole lot of Micky D's but his scheming was interrupted by a knock at the door. Groaning he shutdown his computer and went to find out who was trying to get a hold of him. He eyes widened as he opened the door.

"Pizza?" Virginia asked a wry smile twisting her lips.

"How did you know?"

"You blew up the facebook feed, so of course I knew you were in over your head." The state rolled her eyes, then motioned her chin towards the pile of pizzas she was hefting. "Now are you going to let me in?"

"Oh, of course..." The nation jumped into action opening the door wide, grabbing cardboard boxes out of her arms, and started to carry the pizza indoor. "I never refuse a woman bearing a pizza." America smirked over his shoulder. "Up for pizza and a movie?"

"I will stay for a slice, but then I have to get back to FBI."

"We will see about that." America let a mischievous grin flicker across his features. "You have been working too hard with all of these Russia trying to restart the cold war again thing and I have a copy of the Princess Bride. I know it is your favorite."

"You are evil you know that." Virginia slugged him in the arm and grabbed the top box of pizza. "You know what, for that I get all of the Mediterranean thin crust."

America laughed.

End Note- Pizza, we all know it is the answer. Anyway, it has never ceased to amaze me that so many dishes in the United States are so incredibly regional. I discovered when I was dragged into entering a chili cook-off. I made my incredibly spicy Vegan Vegetable Chili, which is apparently heresy on many levels in several places in the American Southwest. The only thing that saved me was the fact that my chili tastes really good, though many people in attendance insisted on calling my dish a stew instead of chili. LOL.