Coming back from a trip inevitably teases out travel memory fragments from my little grey cells...
I was sitting at dinner in Egypt, and our guide had ordered a different entree than the one we were enjoying. I asked him what it was.
He replied, but through his thick accent I couldn't understand. I kept repeating back what I thought he was saying, "bahz" hoping it would make sense to me, but I was stumped.
An older gentleman on our tour leaned over to me and said, "Rocky Mountain Oysters."
Oh. Got it!
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