The other week at the resthome, we were getting our staff meal after the residents were served, and the choice of soup was tomato or gazpacho.
"Gazpacho, what is that?", my one (older) (Tibetan) coworker was like.
. . .
She's in her sixties and has lived long enough in the U.S. to buy a house, but she simply must run in different circles from those that gazpacho is known in.
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