I drove through Grisons (Graubünden) with my parents once, so that they could see some more of those lovely Swiss mountains. At round about midday we were hungry and stopped off at a restaurant that looked quite inviting.

The waitress, confronted with a carload of Brits, didn't seem too friendly. She dropped a stack of menus on the table and asked us impatiently, what we wanted to drink. We ordered our drinks and set out to tackle the menu - quite a daunting task, as it was written in the local dialect.

My father found 'Chrütter' somewhere in the menu and wanted to know what it was.
When the waitress came to our table to serve our drinks, I asked in German if she could explain what 'Chrütter' is.
My reply was: 'Na, Chrütter san Chrütter, oder?!' she sounded the words as if she were hacking up hairballs - I haven't mastered the Swiss combination of ch to this day, but the Swiss like the sound so much, they write it on the backs of their cars!

Anyway, it took some time, for the fact to sink in, that I hadn't understood a word she had said, by which time she was gone anyway!

A while later she came back to the table with the soup my father had ordered - and, because she was looking elsewhere, proceeded to pour it into his lap! He wasn't too pleased, but before he could catch his breath enough to do more than groan, the woman was apologising profusely and mopping his trousers with a serviette.

All of a sudden, she was as friendly as a person could be and after clearing up the mess and serving the rest of the meal (without further mishap) she came to the table with a bottle, which she proffered for my inspection - on the bottle was written 'Chrütter' and there was a picture of some herbs.
The penny dropped and the translation in my mind was immediate:
'Well, herbs are herbs, aren't they?!'

Needless to say, we didn't tip and my parents drove back to England with fond memories of Swiss hospitality.