"Cholera — like the disease?" I wrinkle my nose as I look down on my plate with its slice of golden brown pie. Summoning his Swiss reserve, my server doesn't roll his eyes. I can almost read his mind: Must be an American.
Katherine Rodeghier, Chicago Tribune: Travel
Fri, 03/27/2015 - 3:31pm
"Cholera — like the disease?" I wrinkle my nose as I look down on my plate with its slice of golden brown pie. Summoning his Swiss reserve, my server doesn't roll his eyes. I can almost read his mind: Must be an American.