Just when think I have assimilated I find I'm still clueless here. Arthur gave us a turkey breast he got from a friend because he likes us and hates turkey. It was frozen so I put it in the refrigerator to defrost. Two days later, it was still hard. George was worried it might spoil so I decided to cook it regardless. When I opened it up, the skin looked funny, all brownish, and the meat looked a bit odd. I smelled it and it smelled good. Then I finally realized it was pre-cooked and packaged, bone and all!
Then I decided to make one of George's favorites, turkey tortilla soup. I went to the store to buy some, only to have people stare at me blankly when I asked for chicken broth. I patiently spelled broth to the Asian grocer, thinking he just didn't understand my American accent and got the same blank stare. Finally, I searched for it myself only to discover they call it chicken stock. He and I had a good laugh when I went up to the register to pay for it.
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