This is the purity of the land, the fertility of the food,
the quality is at a lower level than the previous one. I returned one with hair sticking out of the throat, the potato in the borscht turned out to be ice-cold, I heated a ripe skewer and returned it to the tip. Keep thinking. "I don't know," he said. Instead of the waiters, Paul would have to ask for a maid to serve you.