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Epic Hailstorm Downs Mountain of Sinjit!
What, you ask, in the world, are sinjit? Well, these are them (see above.) Afghans love them. Foreigners don't. To give you an idea of the taste and texture, I have translated a riddle from the venacular: "Three shops in a row in the bazaar. One sells leather, one sells cotton, one sells wood."
The answer is, of course, sinjit. So there you have it.