Cultural differences are funny. On a flight to Munich, the flight attendant asked me if I wanted a ploughman’s lunch or an afternoon tea. To me, tea is what you have with your lunch and ploughmen make no sense in the setup at all.
I chose ploughman’s because it sounded Ukrainian while tea was way too Russian. I couldn’t identify several ingredients of the ploughman’s but there was one thing there that was divine. It was called clotted cream. I detest it for being so good.