"I head back to the table and tell her, 'The cook says that's as light as he can make them. They're only barely cooked through, and if they're any lighter, they'll be raw in the middle.'
"Her eyes light up. 'Can he do that for me?'
"'Uh. I'll be right back.'
"The cook is looking at me expectantly when I come back, and I tell him, a little unnerved, 'She wants them raw in the middle.'
"He stares at me. 'Raw?'
"'Raw,' I confirm.
"He blinks, shrugs, and less than a minute later, there are two pancakes, barely solid, on a plate for her. She devours the goop happily while her husband, who had already finished his food, watches fondly, shaking his head a little at her strangeness.