Surely some daring chef du jour, an agent provocateur de cuisine is willing to serve soup on a slate. A thick soup, spread liberally, would cling like wallpaper paste, and enable the discerning gastropub diner to scrape away with a slice of their artisanal sourdough. A combination of colours could be use to create a swirl of graffiti across your soup, perhaps a green artichoke and rustic ham, with a 'tag' dashed through it with a spicy red pepper tapenade.
In other matters, chefs with foam. Foam belongs in my bath, not on my fucking dinner plate. Fuck off. What next, a spritz of asparagus spittle?