Snickering at Don's comment about the hostess, Orsino looked up from the menu.
"That's the problem, basically everything here is. The only time I've regretted ordering something it was some sort of bisque or something, but it was probably just coincidental that I came down with a fever later that day."
He returned to the menu, idly drumming the fingers of his left hand on the table. In his head he began to make up a few combinations of menu items. "I think..." he said slowly as he sipped at the water. "That the French onion soup needs to be a part of my life..."