WARSAW -- Ordering food at a Polish milk bar eatery in Warsaw, Poland is like stepping into a Seinfeld rerun -- the soup Nazi episode. I walk up to a cashier dressed in a green cafeteria uniform with a stern expression on her face. " Zupa Krupnik, prosze (pro-sha)," I say proudly (a vegetable soup that's easy to pronounce). "No soup," she quickly retorts. I step out of line and begin furiously flipping through my book.