Romano sat impatiently at your kitchen table, trying desperately to figure out what you were cooking using nothing but his sense smell. "Is it almost done? Im-a really hungry you know, and it smells really good." He stood from the table and tried to peek over your shoulder.

"No peeking it's a surprise and it's finished anyway, now go sit down." You placed the finished dish on the table and lifted the lid. Steam filled with the aroma of fresh vegetables filled the room. You scooped a bit on to Romano's plate. He just stared at it.

"It has potatoes in it, and cheese too. It's not even close to being Italian. I can't eat this. You know I only eat Italian food." He dropped his head to the table and whimpered.

"You don't like my cooking?" You pretended to be hurt and offended. "I worked so hard on it too. I guess I can make you some spaghetti, lasagna, ravioli or some kinda of pasta... again." You let out a sigh.

"No, no, your cooking's-a great! I'm sorry." Romano picked up his fork as if he was going to actually eat it. "I can't do it. It smells so good too."

"You know, you're going to have to eat something besides pasta and tomatoes one of these days. I get  tired of cooking the same stuff all the time." You sighed. "I hope Germany isn't right."

His eyes widened. "Right, right about what? What did that potato bastard say about me? I should go beat it out of him right now, but we are in the middle of dinner... so you can tell me. So-a, what did he say?"

You shrugged. "Something about how your unbalanced diet is going to make your hair grow really fast, especially, your facial hair. But hey, you might look good with a mustache." You were only teasing, Germany didn't say anything like that, but you know it would freak Romano out, maybe enough to get him to eat your food.

"I don't want a mustache, they're stupid. I eat other foods, I eat bread, that counts right?" He had actually started sweating, your plan was working.

"I don't know, I'm sure Germany was just teasing anyway." You smiled and continued to eat.

Romano once again lifted his fork to his mouth. "If I don't make it, I  lo-... yeah, you know." He mustered up his courage and took a bite of the casserole. "Well, that actually isn't all that-a bad. I guess I can maybe eat this sometimes." He was obviously embarrassed about making such a big deal out of this.

You smiled wide, happy your meal was a hit."Good, I'm glad you like something not Italian. I'm sure Spain will be surprised to know."

He continued happily eating. "He doesn't have to know, he might tell mucho potato that I ate a potato." He scoffed. "I'd never hear the end of that." Surprisingly he finished his plate and went back for seconds.

With dinner now finished and the table cleared, you snuggled up to Romano and gave his hair curl a slight tug. "You know, I really am proud of you for eating that, it's not easy trying new things. I think you deserve a little reward."

Romano's face immediately turned a deep red. "Chigigigigi. I think you're right."