Leaning against the counter, Pietro is mostly concerned with the delicate task of picking all the chicken out of his stolen salad. The walnuts are also deemed acceptable and picked out. But the celery? Celery?! Who bothered with that hard, crunchy water? It was, at best, texture. At worst?

Although his smirk is immediate at having garnered such a reaction from Stark, Pietro feels like being a pain enough to take a moment longer to poke around in the salad before he gives any reply.

“Why do you bother with such things?” he asks, spearing a piece of celery and holding it up. “Of all the food?”