"With a hint of... um..." Fitz starts, and trails off once he realizes he can't put his finger on the word for the essential ingredient in the sandwich Simmons makes. He's frustrated about it, and shut his eyes for a moment, banging one fist against the door frame.

"No, I know this one," he says to himself, before it's almost as if a light bulb goes off in his head.

"Pesto! Pesto aioli. Sorry, sometimes they words don't..."