Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

Author's Note(s): Interesting tidbit: this was the first fill I started for the Fem Power Challenge.

Fem Power Challenge Information:
Fill Number: 13
Representation(s): Ana Jarvis; Judaism; Motherhood
Bonus Challenge(s): n/a
Word Count: 390 (Story Only); 429 (Story & Epigraph)

-= LP =-
Comfort Food
-= LP =-
"Cooking is all about people. Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together. No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people get together to eat."
– Guy Fieri
-= LP =-

It was just what came naturally, not anything that Ana set out to do. She cooked food with which she was familiar. Of course it was Hungarian, for that is where she was born and grew up. Of course it was kosher. She was Jewish. Why wouldn't it be? Edwin cooked his traditional British dishes. After over thirty years of marriage, keeping his creations kosher or mentioning when they weren't was just habit. Since she and Edwin were the ones taking care of Anthony Stark, they were also the ones who fed him. Howard could barely make toast and Maria rarely had time to actually cook. If she had the time, there were still stretches of time when Maria lacked the energy to do anything.

Thus, Anthony grew up eating as the Jarvises did.

That wasn't a problem in itself.

Beyond the fact that he wasn't prone to acting like that, they had no clue what had set him off. Tony wasn't usually fussy about food. For a four-year-old, he was actually rather adventurous. He preferred food with very strong flavors, but with the exception of visible eggs, he ate everything put in front of him. While carbonara had eggs, they didn't look like eggs to any of them.

It was Ana who realized what must have been the issue.

"It's the pancetta," she said the moment the thought occurred to her. "It's not kosher."

She raised her eyes to look at Maria, stricken. Ana had tried so hard to keep from teaching her traditions to Maria's son, to not repeat the same crime that had been done to the children stolen from her people. She should have realized that Anthony would have picked up on something like this. Maria must have been having the same thought, because she had a small smile on her face.

"He's such a clever little thing, isn't he?"

"You're not upset?"

"I told you that he was your son as well," Maria reminded her with the same gentle firmness she had used the first time. "Why would I be upset about him wanting to eat like his eym? Especially since you clearly hadn't noticed doing it or you would have warned me. Now, since our little bambino has made his stance clear, maybe we can focus on figuring out solutions? Tell me the rules."

-= LP =-
An Ending
-= LP =-