Recluse -- Stephanie, now -- frowned at the tablet as she glanced at the two pots she had on the stove. No one here made even the drinks she remembered from Russia. Sbiten seemed fairly easy. The recipe for kvass she found seemed long rather than difficult. She filled two post with water and turned the stove on. It all seemed to go well until she went to toast the bread for the kvass a second time. Smoke filled the kitchen, setting off the smoke alarm. She cursed in Russian, shoving a towel under the spigot.
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