When the questions on the arrival of my friend were resolved, I went downstairs. It was noisy downstairs, every now and then someone was in a hurry somewhere and, in order not to interfere, decided to have a bite. Fortunately, I remembered where to go, the kitchen, where it was warm and friendly.

Opening the door, breathtaking smells and aromas hit my nose. Mouth flooded with pleasure, almost choked on saliva.

David Semyonovich, a stout peasant in a chef's hat, looked back at me.

- Moon come on, will you do anything? – from the hospitality of the cook, the mood immediately rose.

- Yes, thank you, these aromas made...