( a family so immersed in cooking, how it brought them together. is it any surprise that one (or maybe more) of the children raised in that environment would become a chef? open up a restaurant? some things are inherent. wanda has often wondered how her life would have panned out if sokovia hadn't been stilled in time with all the conflict they had to endure.

what family traditions would have blossomed without fear of gunfire outside? what would she be doing, as a career? what would pietro, had he been given the chance—

carmy speaks some more about his brother, and wanda sets the pots and pans down in place over the stove, watching as he goes about the motions of preparing to cook almost automatically. michael — the brother now has a name. michael, who—from what she understands—took his life and left a note.

from what wanda can get from him, it seems like he expects her to say something about what he's just said. something to destroy the veil of it being sane or good or anything at all. )

It's not stupid.

( maybe that was everything michael had written on the note, but if it was or wasn't, that isn't the point. )

I think... ( she hedges over what she wants to say, knowing how personal and intimate this kind of memory he is sharing with her is. ) It's sad, of course, thinking this is how you got it, but... I think we should make it. That you should make it often, too.

( michael wanted carmy to have the recipe for a reason. wanda looks around an apron for herself, tying it up and standing closer to carmy working on the garlic. )

How can I help?

( she'll work on her sarmas soon enough, but first — maybe he wants to share more about this recipe, about his brother. )