CLARIDGE'S (BROOK STREET)
The Princess was passing through town, and wrote that she would
graciously deign to dine with me.
The responsibility of giving dinner to a Princess, even though she be
not a British Princess, but the bearer of an Italian title, is no light
one. Claridge's, "the home of kings," occurred to me at once as the
right restaurant at which to entertain Her Highness, for the new and
stately hotel that has sprung up in Brook Street has a quiet grandeur
that is in keeping with its old nickname.
The Claridge's of the past was a comfortable hotel with convenient
suites, but its outside was as philistine as any doctor's house in the
street. Now the towering red-brick structure, with its granite columns,
looks like a veritable palace. The proprietor in old days was very much
in evidence. He felt the responsibility of having Royalty under his
roof, and was always waiting in the hall to make his bow. So keenly
did he appreciate his proud position that once, when an enterprising
artist took a room at Claridge's, so as to be able to observe a Royal
personage who was going to be gently caricatured in a weekly paper, he
being made aware that the crime of _lèse-majesté_ was being committed,
politely but firmly insisted on the artist taking his portmanteau and
paint-brushes elsewhere. Royalty might be caricatured, but it should
never be said that the crime was committed at Claridge's. Nowadays
Claridge's is in the hands of a company, and though, no doubt, M.
Mengay, the manager, is present to make his bow when Royalty arrives,
he would not dream of expelling an inquisitive artist; indeed, all the
caricaturists in Europe would be welcome if they had the wherewithal to
pay their bills, for Royalty in the new Claridge's is given a separate
house, and so is effectually shielded from prying eyes.
The right touch of grandeur is given in the _porte-cochère_, where the
roadway is paved with indiarubber, so that even the horses shall go
softly, and where the pavement is of marble. It takes a great number
of men--six, I think--to open the doors of Claridge's, and to show the
visitor into the hall; and as a great number of servants to do very
little is one of the characteristics of Royal residences, the home of
kings in this way asserts itself at its gates.
I went in the afternoon to order dinner and secure a table. The six men
let me in, and two higher officials were at my service to direct me
to the restaurant; but I did not need any guidance, for when the new
Claridge's was opened I had wandered at will through all the rooms,
had admired the great stone fireplace in the smoking-room, had passed
through the many suites on the higher floors; Louis Quinze suites,
Louis Seize suites, Empire suites, Sheraton and Adams suites, and had
peeped into the Royal suite with its blue and green and crimson rooms,
and mahogany furniture.
In the restaurant I found an old acquaintance in the shape of M.
Deminger, the _maître d'hôtel_. All the small side-tables for the
evening were taken, he said; but a table for four should be converted
into a table for two in order that I might be accommodated. The dinner
I left to M. Nignon, the _chef de cuisine_, whose handiwork I knew well
when he was at Paillard's, and M. Nobile, the manager, asking only that
the dinner should be short, and saying that though I wanted a good
dinner I did not, as I am not a crowned head or a very wealthy man,
want an inordinately expensive one.
At eight punctually the Princess arrived, and was received with
ceremony by the six at the doors. She was wearing her sable cloak,
which always seems to me to be longer and handsomer than the furs worn
by other women, and a dress of delicate black lace over some soft white
material. The pearls and diamonds that are one of the heirlooms of her
husband's family, were round her throat, and there was a sparkle of
diamonds amidst the lace of her dress.
The restaurant at Claridge's is a dignified room. The windows are
draped with deep red curtains and purple portières; the carpet carries
on the scheme of quiet reds, and the chairs have morocco backs of
vermilion, with the arms of the hotel stamped on them in gold. The
white plaster ceiling is supported by great arches, the bases of which
and the walls of which are panelled with darkish oak, into which
patterns in olive wood are set. The quiet-footed waiters in evening
clothes, with the arms of the hotel as a badge on the lapels of their
coats, are in keeping with the room. It is a restaurant that is
essentially quiet, a restaurant where hurry on the part of the diners
would be out of place, a restaurant where good digestion should be
inseparable from appetite. The music of the band under Meyer van Praag
lends itself to the benevolent atmosphere of the place. It is soft
enough and far away enough not to interfere with conversation. One of
the lessons that most restaurant managers refuse to learn is that an
aggressive band spoils a good dinner.
This was the menu that M. Rouget, the second _maître d'hôtel_, laid
down by my plate as we took our seats:--
Hors-d'œuvre variés.
Crème Princesse.
Sole d'Aumale.
Poulet de grain à la Carifnon.
Délice de jambon frappé au champagne.
Bécassine flambée Empire.
Salade d'endive.
Asperges Anglaises à la d'Yvette.
Bombe Claridge.
Petits fours.
While I was reading this through with appreciation the Princess was
looking round the room and at the people dining. The wide spaces left
between the tables met with her thorough approval, for the fact that
one's neighbours hear every word that one says at many of the London
restaurants is not an incentive to conversation. A lady in white at the
next table to ours also met with approval, and the Princess, serenely
secure in the consciousness of being perfectly dressed, could afford
to praise another woman's gown. Four men dining together at the tables
drew from the Princess what sounded to me like a long extract from
"Debrett," and I added an item of information as to the owner of a
handsome face that was to be seen at one time on the stage, and which
marriage withdrew from the gaze of the public.
While we trifled with the _hors-d'œuvre_ the manager came to our
table, and in the course of conversation told us that the Portuguese
Ambassador had entertained H.R.H. the Prince of Wales in one of the
private dining-rooms the evening before. I felt inclined to say that
I, too, entertained the great ones of the earth at Claridge's, but I
reflected that humility was becoming in me, even though a Princess had
been kind enough to dine with me.
The thick soup was good; but in no way remarkable. I do not care for
thick soups, and the Princess only took a few spoonfuls from her plate.
The sole, with its oysters and truffles, was very well cooked, and so
was the chicken, with its savoury stuffing of macaroni and truffles.
The _délice de jambon_ was a triumph, light and dainty, with a delicate
blending of flavours, a dish which marked the man who made it as an
artist in his calling. The _bécassine_ was a toothsome mouthful, the
asparagus was good, and the _bombe Claridge_ was as admirable in its
way as the _délice_ had been. An excellent dinner, as a whole, with two
dishes that were supreme works of culinary art. We drank the wine of
the good widow Clicquot.
I paid my bill. Two couverts, 2s.; hors-d'œuvre, 2s.; crème Princesse,
4s.; sole, 4s. 6d.; poulet de grain, 12s.; mousse jambon, 4s. 6d.;
bécassine, 10s.; salade, 1s. 6d.; asperges, 8s.; bombe, 3s.; café, 2s.;
liqueurs, 3s. 6d.; wines, 15s.; total, £3: 12s.
Dinner over, we sat in the comfortable reading-room, where the chairs
of blue silk striped velvet match the cerulean tint of the walls, until
the brougham was announced, and the Princess was duly ushered out by
the faithful six.
24_th December_.
* * * * *
M. Nignon, the chef of Claridge's, was in days past the chef at
Paillard's in Paris, the best-known perhaps of all the restaurants
there. He has brought with him to Claridge's many specialities in
cooking. This is a list of the dishes which he has given me as
specialities of the Claridge's cuisine.
_Potages_
Bortsch à la Russe--Consommé Madrileine--Consommé à la Parme--Consommé
Czarmina--Consommé veloutine à l'Impérial--Crème Comtesse--Crème
Waleska--Crème de chapon Virien--Crème ambassadrice.
_Poissons_
Truite saumonnée à la d'Artois--Truite saumonnée à la Villard--Turbotin
soufflé à la Maréchale--Turbotin au vin du Rhin à l'Allemande--Sole
à la d'Aubigny--Sole au madère à la Valois--Suprême de sole à la
Valiéra--Suprême de sole en épigramme à la Mondaine--Suprême de sole à
la d'Orléans--D'Artois de sole à la Polignac--Huîtres à la Kotchoubey.
_Entrées_
Noisettes de filet de bœuf à la Ropan--Noisettes de filet
de bœuf à la Colbert--Tournedos à la Valencia--Tournedos à
la Chancellière--Tournedos à la Cambacères--Tournedos à la
Valence--Médaillon de pré-salé Chanford--Médaillon de pré-salé à
la Cléo de Mérode--Noisettes d'agneau Ainélie--Noisettes d'agneau
Beaumanoir--Côte de bœuf flambée Empire--Filet de bœuf flambé à la
Brechlair--Cœur de filet de bœuf Cancléan--Poularde Rozollie--Poularde
soufflé à la Royale--Poularde à la bière à la Russe--Poularde
St-Cloud--Poulet reine au fumet à la Carignon--Poulet reine à la
Florentine.
_Chaudes et Froides_.--Mousseline de jambon chaude au champagne--Mousse
de poularde au porto doré--Mousseline d'épinards à la Maintenon--Mousse
de langue chaude à l'Ecarlatée--Mousse de foie gras chaude à la
Parisienne.
_Froides_.--Jeannette de poularde--Délices de pois--Ballotine de
volaille sur socle.
_Entrées Froides_
Ris de veau à la Norvégienne--Aspic de volaille à la Ducale--Caneton
de Rouen à la Claridge--Caneton de Rouen en surprise--Ramequin
au nid--Poularde cendrillon--Terrine de foie gras au porto à la
Savaraff--Croustade de blanc de volaille Châtelaine.
_Poissons Froids_
Darne de saumon à la Pickla--Truite saumonnée à la Suédoise--Truite
saumonnée Ratelière--Langouste à la Césarine--Homarde à la
Parisienne--Escalopes de turbot Bagration--Turban de suprême de
sole Victoria--Turbotin à la Moscovite--Queues d'écrevisses en
chartreuse--Mousse de homard Le Run--Salade de poisson à la Russe.
_Entremets_
Ponchardrin à la Bourdalouse--Soufflé Palfit--Soufflé Vizir--Soufflé
Metternich--Mignon soufflé à l'Orange.
_Glaces_
Bombe Claridge--Bombe Suzette--Bombe Prince de Galles--Biscuit
Tortone--Cremolata--Pain d'Espagne Comtesse Marie--Pièces
Vénitiennes--Tutti frutti--Trauch Canelli--Orange crémeuse--Fraises
Archiduchesse.