The poor waiter. When our soup arrived, my sister-in-law and I both complained that it didn't have enough cheese and hadn't been under the broiler long enough. He said, that's the way we do it here. We said, please, take it back, and put more cheese on it, and put it under the broiler. He did, and when it came back, it was close to perfect. Then, of course, Kieley wanted a cup. So we asked the waiter to bring us another crock prepared exactly the same way. He by this time had become very good-natured about the soup -- we were being nice! -- but still I was a little afraid he might have spit in it. (He denied having done so.)
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