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stranger went to another house, where, through a window, he saw a sad young man eating a small biscuit. He rapped on the glass. “Excuse me, senhor, would you happen to have another biscuit for a hungry traveler?” The man simply shook his head and walked away from the window. The stranger went from house to house and met the same fate. Finally, exhausted, he built a fire in the square and pulled a soup kettle from his wagon. Doors began opening, and the townsfolk slowly gathered. Only when he knew all were near did the man reach into his pocket and pull out a stone, which he ceremoniously placed in the kettle. “What are you doing?” asked the youngest villager. “Making stone soup,” he replied, pouring in a bucket of water from the town well. Some sniggered, thinking the old man a fool. “But it would certainly taste better with a bit of cabbage,” he said. An old woman, entranced by his work, hobbled to her house and returned, thrusting a small head of cabbage at him. “Here,” she said, “will this do?” “Perfectly,” he said, smiling. As he ran down his wish list of ingredients—sausages, pork ribs, potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, bay leaf—the townsfolk, now spellbound, brought them all to him. Slack-jawed, they watched as he ladled out some soup for himself and then filled

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The new portuguese table david leite  

The new portuguese table david leite  

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