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Rosa opened the cafe before Neil did , because the board in the window was wrong and anyone on the pavement could read it . In his large chalk letters it carried her grandmother's name and the name of the stew . The pot on the stove already had cream in it . Neil liked the name , because people stopped for it . He had softened the stew for the lunch crowd . Rosa wanted her grandmother's name off that board unless the cream came out . He was wiping tables . She picked up the cloth for the board and nodded at the glass . " That is not her stew , " she said . " Sell what you made . Do not put her name on it . " Neil kept wiping . He had hoped the open sign would end this talk before it started . " They ask for it by her name , " he said . " If I change the board , they will think we stopped . " " Then let them think it , " Rosa said , " or cook it as she did . No cream . Leave the pepper in . " He put both hands on the back of a chair . The room was still dim , so the writing outside mattered more than the tables . A bus passed . Neither of them went to the pot . " If her name comes off , what do I put there ? " he asked . " I will not write soup of the day . It is the same pot each time we cook stew . " " Write what is in the pot , " Rosa said . " If you want my family's name , cook it her way . " He held the chalk out and did not step toward the door . Rosa took it , went outside , and cleared her grandmother's name with the side of her hand . Dust stuck to her coat . She wrote that the stew had cream in it . Under that , in smaller letters , she wrote that the old one was there on days when she was the cook . Neil was at the stove when she came back , spoon in hand , looking at a pot he had already tasted . Rosa hung her coat on the hook . She left the new lines facing the pavement and did not read them to him .
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