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If it wasn’t for this guy, I would be eating pork feet with a glass of soju rolling around in front of the television, enjoying my lavish single life. Instead, I was struggling with this darn beef bourguignon, or blue marble, or whatever it’s called. I couldn’t believe I had to try to concoct a French dish I’d never even laid eyes on before. Not only that, but I had to complete the feat in front of those hawk like eyes that followed even the slightest movement of my fingertips.
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