Waiter, there's a seahorse in my soup

Marc gave me a big hug as we went into his restaurant on the Swiss/French border. We'd known him when he was a waiter at Marro, a place we eat regularly and know all the wait staff.

Then he disappeared, but Julia ran into him at Migros and learned where he had gone. We added his new restaurant to our regular culinary rounds, but I hadn't been there for several weeks.

Last night, I'd also had a big welcome back at Marro from Adrien, one of the waiters and Fabien, the chef, who assured me there was no shellfish (allergies) in the fish soup.  

Going to these restaurants is a bit like going to a good friend's house. There is warmth in the meal, warmth in the relationships.

J took a photo of Rick taking a picture of the soup as I took a picture of J taking a picture of Rick taking a picture of the soup and of the soup.