From the group of recipes:
My grandmother burned a burst. She said that Mira (a tribe) tried to cook her own borst, and it resulted in pieces of mint, cherries and... Chernobyl. (What is? You ask me)
With what...?" I asked again, thinking that my grandmother meant black slides. No, Nifua, a borst with Chernobyl.
Yes, I was also sublime trying to figure out who of us had the roof, until the brain clicked and remembered that this very city and this very location was named in honor of such a grass that we had grown half a garden (high this stinking palm).
Borst, by the way, was delicious. Mint gave a lot, indeed, but it is nothing, the world was praised from the heart))