Steve discovers food trucks
It was the kimchi hot dog that drew Steve in first.
If he was going to be out in Los Angeles, and especially with Tony's sense of keeping appointments or budgeting time, he might as well explore the city, and he'd heard wonderful things about LACMA. Even before he reached the art museum, though, he stopped and wondered at the long rows of food trucks up and down the street. It's not that eating from carts was odd to him -- he did grow up in the Depression, after all -- but the sheer variety of combinations was a little staggering and more than a little delightful.
He hadn't actually known what kimchi was before he tried it, but it was delicious on a frank.
The trip to L.A. didn't take long (he saw more of Miss Potts than Tony, which he couldn't find fault with), but back in D.C., he started looking out for more trucks. The District didn't disappoint: beyond the usual cupcakes, shwarma, pizza and tamales, Steve discovered jerk chicken, bao, meatloaf cupcakes (with mashed potato frosting), fusion pasties and the empanada guys who wore lucha libre masks beneath huge sombreros.
"You're turning into Six-Dinner Sid," Natasha remarked one day as they finished a helping of savory Thai-inspired crepes. "You know, the cat that gets dinner from six different families."
Steve shrugged. "I'm supporting the little guy. And besides, my gut can take it."
"You do have a whole lot to make up for."
He held up the remains of his crepe. "Better than boiling."
She smiled. "And Army food."