It's about three years ago and I am sitting with my friends in the living room of the first family apartment I remember (in Poland). For some reason we are in Poland and it's no big deal. Me and my friends just finished doing the laundry, I am folding the last t-shirt and rolling the last socks. As I put everything away my friend Bart tells me he's hungry and we should go out and grab some pizza. I told him we have food at home and went into the kitchen to check what was there. Noticing a boiling pot of water, I dumped the bag of cranberries in. Bart asked me what I was doing, I responded with one word, "Kompot", and began stirring. After I was finished I looked in the fridge and freezer and did not see anything I liked. We then proceeded to the other freezer in the second kitchen across the hall. Why did we have two kitchens three feet apart? In the second freezer we found frozen popsicles and icecream chicken breasts. We cooked them and, for some odd reason, the outside was nice and hot, while in the middle, the chicken was filled with still frozen icecream and it was good. I kept checking on the cranberries and they were done in a matter of minutes. We let them cool, and when i returned to put them in jars, they were already stored in the cupboard, along side shelves full of them. The cupboard was enourmous, big enough for me to walk into. The walls were covered four jars deep, from floor to ceiling, with kompot jars. I was not in the least surprised.