German "Cure" Places

First of course amongst the places in Germany where men and women mend their constitutions and enjoy themselves at the same time comes

Homburg

The "Homburg Dinner" has become a household word, meaning that a certain number of men and women agree to dine together at one of the hotels, each one paying his or her own share in the expenses. During the past two years, owing to the desire to spend money shown by some millionaires, British and American, who are not happy unless they are giving expensive dinners every night with a score of guests, this pretty old custom seems likely now to die out. In no German town are there better hotels than at Homburg, and one dines on a warm day in very pleasant surroundings, for Ritter's has its world-famous terrace, and some of the other hotels have very delightful open-air restaurants in their gardens. Simplicity, good plain food well cooked, is insisted on by the doctors at Homburg, and therefore a typical Homburg dinner is a very small affair compared to German feasts over which the doctors do not have control. This is a dinner of the day at Ritter's, taken haphazard from a little pile of menus, and it may be accepted as a typical Homburg dinner:—

Potage Crecy au Riz. Truite de Lac. Sce. Genevoise. Pommes Natures. Longe de Veau a la Hongroise. Petits pois au Jambon. Chapons de Chalons rotis. Salade and Compots. Peches a la Cardinal. Fruits. Dessert.

The hotels at Homburg are always quite full in the season. No hotel-keeper puts any pressure on his guests to dine at his hotel, and you may have your bedroom in one hotel and dine at another every night of your life so far as the proprietors care. All those who have the luck to be made members of the Golf Club take tea there, and eat cake such as is only to be found at school-treats in England. The restaurant at the Kurhaus goes up and down in public favour. Everybody goes to its terrace in the evening, and fashion at the present time has, I believe, ordained that on one particular day of the week it is "smart" to dine there. If the restaurant remains as excellently catered for as it was when I last visited Homburg, it is well worth including in the round of dinners.

Wiesbaden

At Wiesbaden you generally dine where you sleep, in your hotel. I myself have generally stayed at the Kaiser Hof, because I like to eat my supper on its creeper-hung terrace and look across the broad valley to the Taunus hill; but there are half-a-dozen hotels in the town, the Nassauer Hof in particular, which many people consider the best hotel in Germany, having capital restaurants, serving table-d'hote meals, attached to them. The Rose has a little terrace, looking on to the gardens, which is a pleasant supping-place. The old Kurhaus, a tumble-down building, is disappearing or has disappeared, and a new and gorgeous building is to take its place. The restaurant at the old Kurhaus always had a good reputation, and to eat one's evening meal, for every one sups and does not dine, at one of its little tables under the trees, looking at the lake beneath the moonshine and listening to the band, was one of the pleasures of Wiesbaden. It was fairly cheap, and I thought the food well cooked, and served as hot as one could expect it in the open air. I have little doubt that the new restaurant will carry on the pleasant ways of the old one. The proprietor is Herr Ruthe, who is caterer to several crowned heads, and who is always on the spot and delighted to be consulted as to the dishes to be ordered for a dinner.

The wine-house, the Rathskeller, is one of the sights of the place. Therein are quaint frescoes and furniture, there the usual German food is obtainable, and you have a choice of German wines such as is obtainable in few other wine-drinking places in Germany.

Any one who likes the open tarts of apple and other fruits—a rather sticky delicacy it always seems to me—can eat them at ease of an afternoon looking at the beautiful view from the Neroberg or watching the Rhine from under the trees of the hotel gardens at Biebrich.

Baden-Baden

The first-class hotels in Baden-Baden are so well catered for that few people wander abroad to take their food, but the restaurant of the Conversation Haus is a good one. The little restaurant, with a shady terrace on the Alte-Schloss Hohenbaden, has achieved celebrity for its trout au bleu and good cookery, and the marvellous view over the Rhine valley makes it a notable little place. There are many refreshment-places on the roads along which the patients take their walks, but as milk is the staple nourishment sold, they hardly find a place in a guide for gourmets. The wines of the Duchy, both red and white, are excellent.

Ems

Ems has a restaurant in the Kursaal, near which the band plays in the evening, said to be fairly good; and there is a restaurant close to the Baderlei, the cliff of rock crowned by a tower, and another on the summit of the Malberg, the hill up which the wire-rope railway runs; but I have only meagre information as to whether the food obtainable at them is good, bad, or indifferent.

Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle)

Henrion's Grand Hotel is the favourite dining-place of the Anglo-Saxon colony in Aachen. M. Intra, the proprietor, lays himself out to attract the English. The German civil servants and the doctors have a club-table at which they dine, and they exact fines from the members of their club for drinking wine which costs more than a certain price, etc., etc., these fines being collected in a box and saved until they make a sum large enough to pay for a special dinner. Every member of this club is required to leave in his will a money legacy to the club to be expended in wine drunk to his memory. There are two table-d'hote meals at 1.30 and at 7 P.M. At the first the dishes are cooked according to the German cuisine, at the second according to the French. Suppers are served in the restaurant at any hour.

Lennertz's restaurant and oyster-saloon in the Klostergasse is a curious, low-ceilinged, old-fashioned house which, before Henrion's came into favour, had most of the British patronage. Its cooking is excellent, and the German Hausfraus used to be sent to Lennertz's to study for their noble calling. The carte de jour has not many dishes on it. Everything has to be ordered a la carte, though the prices are reasonable, and it is possible to make a bargain that a dinner shall be given for a fixed price. The Omelettes Soufflees are a speciality of the house. The fish used at Lennertz's comes from Ostend, and the Dutch oysters are excellent.

A restaurant opposite the theatre has good cookery but is expensive.

Henry, who presides over the Anglo-American bar in the Kaiser Passage, is an excellent cook and turns out wonderful dishes with the aid of a chafing-dish. He learned his cookery at the Waldorf, and at the Grand, in Paris. His partner, Charlie, is of the Cafe de Paris, Monte Carlo.

Another American bar where food is obtainable is in the Grand Monarque Hotel.

The Alt-Bayern in Wirischsbongardstrasse is the beer-house which is most to be recommended; and the Germania, in Friedrich-Williamplatz, is celebrated for its coffee.

Kiel

Kiel Harbour is as beautiful and picturesque a spot as one can well imagine. The approach to it from the Elbe by the Kaiser Wilhelm Canal—52 miles long, 70 yards broad, and about 30 feet deep, with pretty banks on either side, is part of the river Eider. It is lighted along its entire length with electric lamps, and constitutes as pleasant a waterway as one can desire.

The hotels and restaurants are neither numerous nor recherche, and, with the exception of the sailor's rendezvous, are mostly closed during the winter. The Seebadeanstalt is about the best restaurant; it was built by Herr Krupp and is managed by an Englishman. Above it are the fine rooms of the Imperial Yacht Club. These, during the regatta week, which generally takes place at the end of June, are crowded with yachtsmen of all nationalities, to whom the Kaiser dispenses most gracious hospitality. When the extensive anchorage, surrounded by green and wooded hills, is full of every description of yacht, foremost among which is the Hohenzollern and many German battleships, it forms a scene at once impressive and gay. One can hardly blame the Germans for annexing it, however galling its annexation by Germany must have been to its former owners.

The Hotel Germania has a very fair restaurant attached to it.

The Rathskeller is well-conducted, and was built by the municipal authorities.

The Weinstuben, Paul Fritz, is a good refreshment-place, but is mostly frequented by the students and officers.

The Seegarten is a pretty little place overlooking the harbour, where German beer is the principal article of commerce.

At the Muenchener Buergerbrau the beer is good but the surroundings dismal.

Hamburg

At Hamburg is to be found Pfordte's Restaurant, which has gained a European reputation; indeed, it is spoken of as the "Paillard's of North Germany." The following description of the restaurant is from the pen of an English habitue of the house:—

Pfordte's Restaurant, which dates back to the year 1828, was originally one of the numerous Kellers or cellars which are situated in many of the basements of the houses near the Alster and Bourse at Hamburg. Their function is to provide luncheons, dinners, or suppers, and their chief specialites are oysters, lobsters, other shell-fish, game, and truffles. They are much frequented by business men for luncheon, and by playgoers for supper after the theatre.

Mr. Wilkins was the first proprietor, and in 1842 it was in the hands of a company. In 1860 Pfordte, who had become director of this Keller, aimed at higher things. Being a good organiser and administrator, he eventually moved the Keller to the street that runs from the Alster Dam to the Rathaus gardens, and there, at the corner of the gardens, established a restaurant which is one of the best in the world.

Pfordte is a man of small stature but of most courteous and polished manners, and is no exception to the general rule that small men have usually great brains. His restaurant is facile princeps of all the houses of entertainment at Hamburg where riches abound, and where good cheer is scientifically appreciated. Entering the establishment from the street, you find yourself in a fair-sized hall, where a deferential servant in livery is prompt to relieve men of their overcoats and ladies of their wraps. On the left, a large folding-door gives entrance to three public rooms en suite which look out on the Rathaus gardens, and are furnished with small tables—some for two, some for four, some for six persons. Here a most excellent dinner or luncheon can be obtained at short notice. The service is capital. The waiters are German, but appear to be conversant with every tongue in the world. All sorts and conditions of men have to visit Hamburg, the great centre of maritime commerce in Germany. All seem to be able at Pfordte's to give orders in their own language, and find themselves understood. English seems as much spoken here as German.

On the right of the entrance-hall, a fine staircase leads to the first floor, where are rooms for private parties of any number, from two to a hundred. Hardly any important public dinner is held at Hamburg which does not take place at Pfordte's. The cuisine is perfect. The menus are original, the wines are of the best. If you are at Hamburg in the proper season, do not fail at Pfordte's to order oysters, trout from the hill streams, partridge with apricots, and truffes en serviette.

To the above there is but little to add except that there is a certain cosiness about Pfordte's, a sense of personal supervision, which is difficult to define but which everybody who dines there feels and appreciates. One Londoner put it thus, referring to the little rooms, "It's what Kettner's ought to be." I append a menu of a dinner of the day at Pfordte's, there being a choice of four or five dishes in each course. The charge is 6 marks. This bill of fare is by no means an exceptionally good one. Indeed it is below the average rather than above. The "English" adjective to the celery is used to distinguish it from celleriac or "Dutch" celery, which is largely used in salads in North Germany. The Junger Puter is a very little turkey poult. It is to the turkey what the poussin is to the fowl:—

Potage a la Stuart. Potage creme d'orge a la Viennoise. Potage puree de concombres au cerfeuil. Consomme Xavier. Filets von Seezungen (soles) a la Joinville. Steinbutt (turbot) sauce moscovite. Rheinlachs kalt, sauce mayonnaise. Boeuf braise a l'alsacienne. Rehbruecken (venison) a la Conti. Lammviertel a la Provencale. Roast-beef a la Clamart. Artischoken sauce hollandaise. Salat braisirt mit jungen Erbsen. Engl. Sellerie mit Mark. Junge Flageolets a la Maitre. Spanishe Pfefferschoten farcirt. Junge Ente (duckling). Rebhuhn (partridge). Junge Puter. Escarolle-Salat mit Tomaten. Erdbeer-Eiscreme panache Fruchttorte. Kase.

Dress clothes are not de rigueur when dining at Pfordte's. Bordeaux wines are a speciality of the house, as indeed they are in every good restaurant in Hamburg and Bremen, better claret being found in those cities than anywhere else outside France that I know of. There is a celebrated picture in Pfordte's hall which has a story attached to it. The painter wished to give a dinner to his club friends, and consulted Pfordte as to the price. Pfordte said that he would supply the dinner, and that the artist afterwards should paint him a picture. The dinner was given to the entire club, and was said to have been the best dinner ever served in Germany: the artist showed his appreciation of it by painting a masterpiece.

This is a specimen of one of Pfordte's dinners of ceremony:—

Nectar old sherry. Natives. Astrachan Caviar. - 1894 Louis Roederer Potage Malmesbury. grand vin sec. - Truffes du Perigord a la Savarin. - 1876 Geisenheimer Saiblinge aus dem Koenigssee. Hothenberg-Auslese. Bayrische Sauce. - 1889 Chat. Dauzac Engl. Hammebruecken Labarde (Tischwein). a la Courdomage. - 1878 Chat. Marquis Cotelettes de Macassins de Therme. a la Montalembert. - 1869 Clos St-Hobert. Supreme von Strassburger Gaenselebern in Madeira. - Creme de Chicorees aux pointes d'asperges vertes. Fonds d'artichauts a la St-Charles. - 1874 Chat. Larose Enten von Rouen. Schloss-Olbzug. Salade a la Francaise. - Moet and Chandon Pouding glace a la Jules Cremant blanc. Lecomte. - Dessert.

At the Zoological Gardens there is a good restaurant where one dines in a balcony overlooking the beer-garden, in which a military band plays.

The oyster-cellars of Hamburg are noted for their excellent lunches. Bouillon, cutlets, steaks, caviar, lachs, and other viands are served, and English "porter," generally Combe's stout, is much drunk. Another British production, "Chester" cheese, which is red Cheshire, is much in demand. At supper in these cellars, and also in Berlin, caviar is much in demand, the small black Baltic variety, not the Russian, which is lighter in colour and larger in grain. A large pot of it is put on the table in a bowl of ice, and your Hamburger, who is a good judge of victuals as he is of drink, makes his supper of it.

The Rathskeller of Hamburg is in the modern Rathhaus, and is finely decorated in "Alt-deutsch" style with frescoes and paintings by well-known artists.

In the summer gardens down the Elbe, good wines are to be obtained; and at the Faehrhaus at Blauenesse.

The Alster Cafe is very beautifully situated. It has three tiers of rooms, and from its balconies one can look either landward or on to the river, which at night, with the lights reflected in its water, is very beautiful. The rooms of the cafe are decorated in the style of the seventeenth century.



CHAPTER VII

BERLIN

Up-to-date restaurants—Supping-places—Military cafes—Night restaurants.

Twenty years ago Berlin had no restaurant worthy of the name, now of course they are plentiful; in many instances, however, showy paintings, bad gilding, and heavy decorations seem to atone with a certain class of the public for inferior materiel and mediocre cookery.

The Monopole part of the Hotel-Restaurant L. Schaurte is first-rate, and the set dinner for the price is as good as one could get anywhere. I append an everyday menu which, for 5 marks, ought to satisfy the most exacting customer. The second soup is a Consomme with quenelles. The fish dishes are Sole Normande and Turbot au Gratin.

MENU.

From 2 P.M. to 9 P.M.

Haeringfilet nach Daube. Mulligatawny-Suppe. Kraftbruehe mit Einlage. Seezungenfilet auf normaennische Art. Steinbutt in Muscheln gratiniert. Eng. Roast-beef. Yorker Schinken in Burgunder. Spinat. Homard de Norvege. Sauce Ravigotte. Franzoes. Poularde. Fasan. Salat Compot. Sellerie. Fuerst Pueckler Bombe. Kaese. Fruechte. Nachtisch.

Estimated cost of two dinners at the Restaurant Schaurte (Monopole):—

M. Pfgs.

Dinner 5 00 1/2 Pontet Canet (1890) 7 00 Coffee 60 Cognac 60 ——— 13 20

M. Pfgs.

Dinner 5 00 1/2 Roederer 8 75 (1893 Reserve for England) 1 Cognac (1860) 75 Coffee 60 ——— 15 10

If you drink no wine with the above repast, you are charged 6 marks for the dinner instead of 5. The wine charges are rather expensive, otherwise there is no fault to be found. This restaurant is a fashionable place at which to sup.

The Bristol Restaurant, attached to the hotel of that name, is also one of the best and answers, on a reduced scale, to the Carlton Restaurant in London; you get as good a dinner at the Bristol as you can wish to have, especially if you interview Mons. Maxim (who was for a time in London) the maitre-d'hotel, a proceeding which will ensure your being well cared for.

In fact with regard to most restaurants, it is always better, in Berlin as elsewhere in the world, if you have time or happen to be passing that way, to look in wherever you may have settled to dine, choose your table, and see what they propose to give you. It simplifies and expedites matters on arriving, especially if you are going on to some entertainment and have not much time to spare.

Borchard's, in the Franzoesischerstrasse, is a capital place to drop in to lunch, as there is a cold buffet there with every sort of Delikatesse. You can get a very good dinner there, and the wines are of excellent quality. The attaches of the British Embassy patronise it, and it is to the Bristol in Berlin what Claridge's is to the Carlton in London.

The Hotel de Rome has an excellent restaurant, and many dinners of ceremony are given there. This is the menu, headed by the motto, "The Tubercle Bacillus will federate the World," of a dinner given at the Berlin by a distinguished British physician to some of his German colleagues of the great Congress:—

Hors-d'oeuvre. Consomme Sevigne. Potage Oxtail. Sole a la Bordelaise. Filet de boeuf a la Moderne. Cotelettes de Foies gras aux Truffes. Faisan Roti. Compote Salade. Asperges en branches. Prince Pueckler. Fromage. Fruits.

The Palast Hotel and restaurant, at the corner of the Potsdamerplatz, and the Savoy in the Friedrichstrasse are also excellent.

The Hiller and the Dressel, in the Unter den Linden, are bright, pleasant, and good restaurants. Dressel gives an excellent lunch for 2.50 and dinners for 3 marks or 5. This is a sample lunch:—

Bouillon in Tassen. Eier Skobeleff. Seezunge gebacken, Sauce Tartare. Kalbskopf aux Champignons. Mutton Chops. Pfirsich nach Conde. Kaese.

The English bar in the Passage is a grill-room and restaurant, and ladies can lunch there, though the sporting British element is rather too prominent. In the evening it is frequented by the theatrical world and is practically open all night. One can enjoy a peaceable supper there without having to pay the bill and leave shortly after one has sat down, as is the custom in England.

Kempinsky's, in the Leipzigerstrasse, a very popular restaurant and always crowded, rather corresponds to Scott's in the Haymarket. Here you get very good oysters (when in season) and excellent Holstein crayfish, lobsters, etc. The cook at this restaurant has an excellent manner of cooking lobsters, called Homard chaud au beurre truffe. It consists of chopped truffles worked up into best fresh butter rolled out, and then laid on the hot lobster.

I subjoin a menu, in order to show the moderate charge for an extremely well-cooked dinner. As a rule a portion of any dish on the bill of fare costs M. 1.25.

MENU.

Hors-d'oeuvre. Consomme double a la Moelle. Homard chaud au Beurre Truffe. Escaloppes de Veau. Choux de Bruxelles. Faisan Roti. Salade. Fromage, Celeri. Cafe, Cigare. 1 Bottle German Champagne.

For two people, including the champagne, the total came to 12 marks 75 = 12s. 9d.

As to the German champagne, "Sect," as it is called, they are now making very pleasant light wines of this character in the country at very reasonable prices. They are excellent of their sort, though they are rarely kept long enough in the cellar, and I should certainly advise their being tried, in preference to paying heavily for soi-disant French brands which in Germany are of very doubtful origin. "Herb" does not guarantee what we understand by "dry."

If you wish to sample German dishes well and inexpensively, you could not do better than go to the Ruedesheimer in the Friedrichstrasse. The house can provide you with an excellent bottle of Rhine wine, having a special celebrity for this.

The Reichshof, in the Wilhelmstrasse, is a cafe of a more Bohemian description. It is most frequented towards the evening and for suppers after the theatres; usually a first-class but very noisy band is engaged there. It is also a good hotel. It is next door to the British Embassy.

There are also two cafes in which the military element predominates, one might almost say exclusively. These are Topfer's and the Prinz Wilhelm, both in the Dorotheenstrasse. Here the officers usually lunch and make a general rendezvous, often bringing their wives.

There are, of course, plenty of suburban cafes open in the summer, but they are more refreshment establishments, and appeal rather to the general public than to the higher class; they are opened or closed according to the seasons.

Bauer's, in Unter den Linden, is also a well-known cafe, and is much frequented by the Berliners; it is, however, more of the refreshment saloon class, and is patronised by a large newspaper-reading public, from the fact that there are few of the leading publications in all languages that you would fail to find here. This cafe has become a general rendezvous in the afternoon and evening, and everything supplied there is of the best quality. The walls are decorated with paintings by the eminent German artists of thirty years ago. Upstairs, between 5 and 6 P.M., one sees many of the people of the world of the theatres and music halls.

At Ewest, just off the Friedrichstrasse, there are two or three little quiet dining-rooms. The management is not anxious to find accommodation for any except old customers, but the best wine in Berlin is to be obtained there.

The Kaiserkeller, with its rooms decorated splendidly in various styles, one after the model of the Luebeck Schiffergesellschaft, and others after other famous German rooms, is one of the sights of Berlin. It retains an army of cooks and its wine-list is a wonderful one.

If you wish to see the rowdy student life of Berlin, the Bohemian festivity which corresponds to the life of Paris in the cabarets of Montmartre, and if you speak German, go to the Bauernschaenke, which has obtained a celebrity for the violence and rudeness of its proprietor, who, as Lisbonne and Bruant used to, and Alexander does in the cabarets of the City of Light, insults his customers to the uttermost and turns out any one who objects. Die Raeuberhohle is an inferior imitation of Die Bauernschaenke.

A noted night restaurant is Der Zum Weissen Roessl, in which each room is decorated to represent some typical street in Berlin. This is a hostel much frequented by artists.



CHAPTER VIII

SWITZERLAND

Lucerne—Basle—Bern—Geneva—Davos Platz.

Switzerland is a country of hotels and not of restaurants. In most of the big towns the hotels have restaurants attached to them, and in some of these a dinner ordered a la carte is just as well cooked as in a good French restaurant, and served as well; in other restaurants attached to good hotels the table-d'hote dinner is served at separate tables at any time between certain hours, and this is the custom of most of the restaurants in most of the better class of hotels. There is in every little mountain-hotel a restaurant; but this is generally used only by invalids, or very proud persons, or mountaineers coming back late from a climb. There is no country in which the gourmet has to adapt himself so much to circumstances and in which he does it, thanks to exercise and mountain air, with such a Chesterfieldian grace. I have seen the man who, at the restaurants of the Schweitzerhof or National at Lucerne, ate a perfectly cooked little meal which he had ordered a la carte on the day of his arrival in Switzerland, and who was hoping to find something to grumble at, sitting in peace two days later eating the table-d'hote meal at a little table in the restaurant of one of the hotels at Lauzanne or Vevey, Montreux or Territet, after a walk along the lake side or up the mountain to Caux, and four days after one at a long table at Zermatt or the Riffel Alp, talking quite happily to perfect strangers on either side of him and eating the menu through from end to end, more conscious of the splendid appetite a day on the glaciers had given him than of what he is eating. Switzerland entirely demoralises the judgment of a gourmet, for its mountain air gives it undue advantages over most other countries, and an abundant appetite has a way of paralysing all the finer critical faculties.

At one period all hotels in Switzerland were "run" on one simple, cheap, easy plan. There were meals at certain hours, there was a table in the big room for the English, another for the Germans, and another for mixed nationalities. If any one came late for a meal, so much the worse for him or her, for they had to begin at the course which was then going round. If travellers appeared when dinner was half over, they had to wait till it was quite finished; and then, as a favour, the maitre-d'hotel would instruct a waiter to ask the cook to send the late comers in something to eat, which was generally some of the relics of the just-completed feast, the odours of which still hung about the great empty dining-hall.

I fancy that it is a matter of history that M. Ritz, who has since become the Napoleon of hotels, coming as manager to the National at Lucerne and finding this system in practice, put an end to it at once and started the restaurant there, which was and is quite first class. Whether some one else was making history at the Schweitzerhof at the same time in the same way I do not know, but the two hotels have run neck and neck in the excellence of their restaurants, and not only are they first rate, but, as is always the case, the average of the cooking at the other hotels has gone up in sympathy, as the doctors would say, with the two leading caravanserais, and one usually finds that any one who has stayed at Lucerne has a good word to say for his hotel. I was once at Lucerne during race week, and was doubtful whether I should find a room vacant at either of the hotels I usually stay at. A charming old priest, who was a fellow-voyager, suggested to me that I should come to a little hotel hard by the river; and there, though the room I was given was of the very old continental pattern, the dinner my friend ordered for himself and me was quite excellent. I have breakfasted at the buffet at the station and found it very clean, and the simple food was well cooked. There is a restaurant at the Kursaal, but I have never had occasion to breakfast or dine there.

In Northern Switzerland some of the towns have restaurants which are not attached to hotels, and Basle has quite a number of them, though the interest attaching to most of them is due to the quaintness of the buildings they are in or the fine view to be obtained from them rather than from any particular excellence of cookery or any surprisingly good cellar. The restaurant in the Kunsthalle, for instance, is ornamented by some good wall paintings; and by the old bridge there is a restaurant with a pleasant terrace overlooking the river. There is a good cellar at the Schutzenhaus, and there is music and a pretty garden as an attraction to take visitors out to the Summer Casino.

Of the Bern restaurants much the same is to be said as of the Basle ones. Historical paintings are thought more of than the cook's department. The Kornhauskeller, in the basement of the Kornhaus, is a curious place and worth a visit for a meal. At the Schauzli, on a rise opposite the town, from the terrace of which there is a splendid view and where there is a summer theatre, there is a cafe-restaurant, and another on the Garten, a hill whence another fine view is obtainable.

Geneva, for its size and importance, is the worst catered for capital in Europe. Outside the hotel restaurants, none of which have attained any special celebrity, there are but few restaurants, and those not of any conspicuous merit. There is a restaurant in the noisy Kursaal, and two in the Rue de Rhone, and most of the cafes on the Grand Quai are feeding-places as well; but I never ate a dinner yet in Geneva—and I have known the place man and boy, as they say in nautical melodrama, for thirty-five years—that was worth remembering; and though the trout are as palatable as they were when Cambaceres used to import them to France for his suppers, I have never tasted the Ombre Chevalier of which Hayward wrote appreciatively. There are two little out-of-door restaurants which are amusing to breakfast at during the summer. One is in the Jardin Anglais and the other in the Jardin des Bastions. At each a cheap table-d'hote meal is served at little tables. There is also a restaurant in the Park des Eaux Vives.

On the borders of the Lake of Geneva there are many good hotels, though some of the best of them pick and choose their visitors, and writing beforehand does not mean that a room will be found for a bachelor who only intends to stay a few days. The better the hotel the better the restaurant, and if the haughty hotel porter at the station says "No" very courteously when you look appealingly at him and ask if a room has been kept for you, the only way is to try the next on your list. Fresh-water fish, fruit, cheese, honey, are all excellent by the lake, and the wines of the Rhone valley are some of them excellent. At Lauzanne, Vevey, Montreux, Territet, the wines of the country are well worth tasting, for in the valley above Villeneuve there are a dozen vineyards each producing an excellent wine; and the vines imported from the Rhine valley, from the Bordeaux and Burgundy districts, give wine which is excellent to drink and curious as well, when the history of the vine is known. Always ask what the local cheese is. There are varieties of all kinds, and they afford a change from the eternal slab of Gruyere.

Of course Switzerland has its surprises like every other country, and one does not expect to find an ex-head chef of Claridge's running a little restaurant by a lake in the Swiss mountains. Mr. Elsener, who is this benefactor to humanity, was the head of the catering department at the Imperial Institute when a very praiseworthy effort was made to make a smart dining place in the arid waste called a garden in the centre of the buildings; and he also catered for the Coldstream Guards, so that he started business with a good clientele. As a sample of what can be done on the mountain heights, I give the menu of one of the dinners served by Elsener at the restaurant Villa Fortuna:—

Huitres d'Ostende. Consomme Riche. Filet de Sole au Vin Blanc. Tournedos a l'Othello. Petits Pois. Pommes paille. Vol-au-vent a la Banquier. Aspic de foie gras en belle vue. Melons Glace Venitienne. Petit Fours. Omelette a la Madras. Petit Souffle au Parmesan. Dessert.

N.N.-D.



CHAPTER IX

ITALY

Italian cookery and wines—Turin—Milan—Genoa—Venice— Bologna—Spezzia—Florence—Pisa—Leghorn—Rome—Naples—Palermo.

Italian Cookery

There is no cookery in Europe so often maligned without cause as that of Italy. People who are not sure of their facts often dismiss it contemptuously as being "all garlic and oil," whereas very little oil is used except at Genoa, where oil, and very good oil as a rule, takes the place of butter, and no more garlic than is necessary to give a slight flavour to the dishes in which it plays a part. An Italian cook frys better than one of any other nationality. In the north very good meat is obtainable, the boiled beef of Turin being almost equal to our own Silverside. Farther and farther south, as the climate becomes hotter, the meat becomes less and less the food of the people, various dishes of paste and fish taking its place, and as a compensation the fruit and the wine become more delicious. The fowls and figs of Tuscany, the white truffles of Piedmont, the artichokes of Rome, the walnuts and grapes of Sorrento, might well stir a gourmet to poetic flights. The Italians are very fond of their Risotto, the rice which they eat with various seasonings,—with sauce, with butter, and with more elaborate preparations. They also eat their Paste asciutte in various forms. It is Maccheroni generally in Naples, Spagetti in Rome, Trinetti in Genoa. Alla Siciliana and con Vongole are but two of the many ways of seasoning the Spagetti. Again, the delicate little envelopes of paste containing forcemeat of some kind or another change their names according to their contents and the town they are made in. They are Ravioli both at Genoa and Florence, but at Bologna they are Capeletti, and at Turin Agnolotti. Perpadelle, another pasta dish with a little difference of seasoning, becomes Tettachine when the venue changes from Bologna to Rome.

There are many minor differences in the components of similarly named dishes at different towns; the Minestrone of Milan and Genoa differ, and so does the Fritto Misto of Rome and Turin. I fancy that, as a compensation, only an expert could tell the difference between the soups di Vongole at Naples, di Dattero at Spezzia, and di Peoci at Venice.

The "Zabajone" the sweet, frothing drink beaten up with eggs and sugar, is made differently in different towns. At Milan and Turin Marsala and brandy are used in it; at Venice Cyprus wine is the foundation; and elsewhere three wines are used. It is a splendidly sustaining drink, whether drunk hot or iced, and Italian doctors order it in cases of depression, and it might well find a place in the household recipes of English and American households. The wines of the various towns I have noted in writing of them. "Vino nostrano" or "del paese" brings from the waiter his list of the local juice of the grape, and the wine of the district is the wine to drink. Roughly speaking, the red wine is the best throughout Italy, the white of Bologna and the Veneto being the exceptions. Finally, do not be alarmed if at a trattoria a waiter puts before you a huge flask of wine. It has been weighed before it is brought to you. It will be weighed when the waiter takes it away after you have finished, and what you have drunk, plus the great gulp the waiter is sure to take if he gets a chance, is what you will be charged for.

The Anglo-Saxon travelling in Italy is likely to strike Turin, or Milan, or Genoa as his first big town, according to the route he has chosen, and those are therefore the three towns the capabilities of which I shall first try to describe.

Turin

You will be fed well enough at your hotel whether you are at the Grand, or Kraft's, or the Trombetta, but if you want to test the cookery of the town I should suggest a visit to the Ristorante della Meridiana, which is in the Via Santa Theresa, the street which joins the Piazza Solferino and San Carlo; or to the Ristorante del Cambio, which is in the Piazza Carignano, where stands a marble statue of a philosopher and which has a couple of palaces as close neighbours. At these, or at the Lagrange and Nazionale, both in the Via Lagrange, you will get the dishes of Turin.

If you wish to commence with hors-d'oeuvre, try the Pepperoni, which are large yellow or red chillies preserved in pressed grapes and served with oil and vinegar, salt and pepper. The Grissini, the little thin sticks of bread which are made in Turin and are famous for their digestible quality, will be by your plate. Next I should suggest the Busecca, though it is rather satisfying, being a thick soup of tripe and vegetables; and then must come a great delicacy, the trout from the Mount Cenis lake. For a meat course, if the boiled beef of the place, always excellent, is too serious an undertaking, or if the Frittura Mista is too light, let me recommend the Rognone Trifolato, veal kidney stewed in butter with tomatoes and other good things, including a little Marsala wine. The white Piedmontese truffles served as a salad, or with a hot sauce, must on no account be overlooked; nor the Cardons, the white thistle, served with the same sauce; nor indeed the Zucchini Ripieni, which are stuffed pumpkins; and some Fonduta, the cheese of the country, melted in butter and eggs and sprinkled with white truffles, will form a fitting end to your repast unless you feel inclined for the biscuits of Novara, or Gianduiotti, which are chocolates or nougat from Alba or Cremona where they make violins as well as sweets. You should drink the wine of the country, Barbera or Barolo, Nebiolo or Freisa; and I expect, if you really persevere through half the dishes I have indicated, that you will be glad of a glass of Moscato with the fruit. Take your coffee at the Cafe Romano if you long for "local colour."

Milan

In the town of arcades, white marble, and veal cutlets I generally eat my breakfast at one of the window tables of the Biffi, from which one sees the wonderful crowd—well-groomed officers of the Bersaglieri, the pretty ladies, the wondering peasants—that goes through the great Galleria; but if there is no window table available, and the head waiter fails to understand why he should give a table retained for a constant patron to a bird of passage, I go to the Savini, also in the great arcade, where I think the food is rather better cooked, but which has not the same tempting outlook. In the evening, if it is a cold day, I dine at the Orlogio, at the corner of the great square, a restaurant which some men find fault with, but where I have always been well treated; but if the day is hot, I as often as not go to the Cova, near the Scala, where a band plays after dinner in the garden. Such is my usual round, with a night-cap at the Gambrinus if I have been to one of the theatres; but I am penitently aware that my circle is a small one, and I am told that I should take the De Albertis and the Isola Botta into my list. Wherever one dines and wherever one breakfasts there are certain Milanese dishes which one should order. The Minestrone soup is a dish which is not only found all Italy over but which is popular in Austria and on the French Riviera as well; but the Minestrone alla Milanese, with its wealth of vegetables and suspicion of Parmesan, is especially excellent. The Risotto Milanese, rice slightly saute in butter, then boiled in capon broth, and finally seasoned with Parmesan and saffron, is one of the celebrated Milanese dishes, but the simpler methods of serving Risotto, al sugo, al burro, or con fegatini suit better those who do not like saffron; or better still is a very well-known dish of another town, Risotto Certosino, in which the rice is seasoned with a sauce of crayfish and garnished with their tails. Then come the various manners of cooking veal, the Cotelette a la Milanese, cutlets plunged in beaten eggs and fried in butter after being crumbed, and others stewed with a little red wine and flavoured with rosemary; and the Cotelette alla Marsigliese, of batter, then ham, then meat which, when fried, is one of the dishes of the populace on a feast-day. Ossobuco, a shin of veal cut into slices and stewed with a flavouring of lemon rind, is another veal dish; and so is the delicate Fritto Picatto of calf's brains, liver, and tiny slices of flesh. Polpette a la Milanese are forcemeat balls stewed. Panettone are the cakes of the city and are much eaten at Carnival time. Stracchino or Crescenza is a cheese much like the French Brie. Gorgonzola all the world knows well; and though Parmesan takes its name from that Duchess of Parma who introduced it into France, the best quality comes from Lodi, near Milan. Val Policella and Valle d'Inferno are the wines to drink.

Genoa

Genoa is a town of noise and bustle. The worst curse one Genoese can pronounce to another is "May the grass grow before your door." The Genoese restaurants have not the best reputation in the world for either cleanliness or quiet; but at the Concordia, in the Via Garibaldi, you will find a cool and pleasant garden; and at the Gottardo you will discover the Genoese cookery in all its oily perfection, for the important difference between the cuisine of Genoa and of every other Italian town is that all its dishes are prepared with olive oil instead of butter.

Of course Genoa has its own especial Minestrone soup flavoured with Pesto, a paste in which pounded basil, garlic, Sardinia cheese, and olive oil are used; and the fish dishes are Stocafisso alla Genovese, stock-fish stewed with tomatoes and sometimes with potatoes as well, and a fry of red mullet, and Moscardini, which are cuttle-fish, oblong in shape and redolent of musk. The tripe of Genoa is as celebrated as that of Caen, and the Vitello Uccelletto, little squares of veal saute with fresh tomatoes in oil and red wine, is a very favourite dish. The Ravioli I have already written of. The Faina somewhat resembles Yorkshire pudding made with pease-powder and oil. Funghi a Fungetto are the wild red mushrooms stewed in oil with thyme and tomatoes, and Meizanne is a small, bitter egg-plant, only found on the Riviera, stuffed with a cheese paste and then fried. Pasqualina is an Easter pie. The figs of Genoa are excellent. The wines are those delle cinque terre, and in some of the cellars you will find them dating back sixty years or more.

Venice

The city on the lagoons is the next town to be considered, for Verona has scarcely a cuisine of its own, and Padua sends its best food to the Venetian market, and its Bagnoli wine as well. The Restaurant Quadri, on the north side of the Piazza of St. Mark, is one of the best-known restaurants in Europe, and it is not expensive, for one can breakfast there well enough for 4 francs.

A gourmet of my acquaintance thus describes a typical breakfast at the Quadri. "When you go to the restaurant do not be induced to go upstairs where the tourists are generally invited, but take a little table on the ground floor, where you can see all the piazza life, and begin with a Vermouth Amaro, in lieu of a "cocktail." For hors-d'oeuvre have some small crabs, cold, mashed up with Sauce Tartare, and perhaps a slice or two of Presciuto Crudo, raw ham cut as thin as cigarette-paper. After this a steaming Risotto, with Scampe, somewhat resembling gigantic prawns. Some cutlets done in Bologna style, a thin slice of ham on top and hot Parmesan and grated white truffles and Fegato alla Veneziana complete the repast, except for a slice of Strachino cheese. A bottle of Val Policella is exactly suited to this kind of repast, and a glass of fine-champagne (De Luze) for yourself and of ruby-coloured Alkermes for the lady, if your wife accompanies you, makes a good ending. The maitre-d'hotel, who looks like a retired ambassador, will be interested in you directly he finds that you know how a man should breakfast."

The restaurant which comes next in order in popularity with visitors is the Bauer-Grunwald, in the Via Ventidue Marzo, which has a garden with seats in it; but this is a German house, and can scarcely claim to represent anything Venetian. The Capello Nero, in the Merceria, behind the Piazza of St. Mark, is thoroughly Venetian and unpretentious, and there you may obtain the real cookery of the town; and another such trattoria attached to an hotel is the Cavalletto, by the Ponte Cavalletto, close to the great square; but the Venetian cookery, it should be thoroughly understood, is not eaten in Parisian surroundings.

At the Florian Cafe, which in the summer keeps open all the night through, one gets the frothing Zabajone made so stiff that a spoon stands upright in it.

There are many birrerie in Venice, the Dreher being one frequented by the Italians.

The Zuppa di Peoci is a soup made from the little shell-fish called "peoci" in Venice, and appearing under other names at Spezzia and Naples, and so fond are the Venetians of it that they flavour their rice with sauce made from it and call it Riso coi peoci. Baccala, or salt-cod, and Calamai, little cuttle-fish or octopi, looking and tasting like fried strips of soft leather, are native dishes not to be recommended; but the Anguille di Comacchio, the great eels from Comacchio, grilled on the spit between bay leaves, or fried or stewed, are excellent. Another Venetian dish which I can strongly recommend is the Fegato alla Veneziana, calf liver cut into thin slices, fried with onions in butter, and flavoured with lemon juice. Stewed larks, with a pudding of Veronese flour, are satisfying, and a sausage from the neighbouring Treviso, which also gives its name to the Radici di Treviso, is much esteemed. The Pucca baruca is one of the big yellow pumpkins baked. The wines are, of course, those of the mainland, Conegliano from Treviso and Val Policella from Verona.

Bologna

"Bologna la grassa" does not belie its nick-name, and it is said that the matronly ladies, all over forty, who cook for the rotund priests, are the cordons bleus of Italy. The restaurant of the Hotel Brun is the one where the passing Anglo-Saxon generally takes his meals and a chat with the proprietor, who is generally addressed as Frank, is entertaining, for he owns vineyards behind the town, which he is happy to show to any one interested in vine-culture, and he makes his wine after the French manner. The Hotel d'Italie is more an Italian house, and the Stella d'Italia, in the Via Rizzoli, is the typical popular restaurant of the town. At the Albergo Roma, on the Via d'Azeglio, I have lunched on good food for a couple of francs.

The Coppaletti I have already referred to. The Perpadelle col Ragout are made of the same dough as the French nouilles, in narrow strips boiled and seasoned with minced meat and Parmesan cheese. Another variety of this Perpadelle alla Bolognese has minced ham as a seasoning. Then come the far-famed sausages, the great Codeghino, boiled and served with spinach or mashed potatoes; the large, ball-shaped Mortadella, which is sometimes eaten raw; and the stuffed foreleg of a pig, which is boiled and served with spinach and mashed potatoes and which is a dish the Bolognese "conveyed" from Verona.

The wines are San Giovese and Lambresco.

Spezzia

Not at Spezzia itself, but at Porto Venere on the promontory at the entrance to the bay, will the gourmet find the Zuppa di Datteri, which is the great delicacy of the gulf. The dattero is a shell-fish which in shape resembles a date stone. It has a very delicate taste, and is eaten stewed with tomatoes and served with a layer of toast. The little inn, Del Genio, is not too clean, but the landlord will tell you that Byron and Shelley made no complaints when they lived there and that they had a thorough appreciation of the dainty datteri. Byron is said to have written most of his Corsair in a grotto at Porto Venere, and Shelley was cast up drowned on the sand across the gulf.

Florence

If you wish to be aristocratic in Florence you will lunch at Capitani's in the Via Tornabuoni, and in the afternoon you will lounge about the street until it is time to drink tea and eat cake at Giacosa's, or Doney's, or the Albion, or Digerini's, and Marinari's venture, next door to the library, after which you will look in at Vieusseux's to see if there is any news a-foot. You will then have eaten a very fair lunch cooked a la Francaise, and will have met in the course of the afternoon all your fellow country-men and country-women resident in Florence. If, however, you want to sample Florentine cookery, you will fly from the splendours of the road which leads to the bridge of the Trinity and will try Mellini's in the Via Calzajoli, which runs from the Piazza della Signoria to that of the cathedral, where you will find both German and Italian dishes; or if you wish to test the native art, untouched by Teuton heaviness, go to La Toscana in the same street. There you will find comparative quiet, and you can be quite sure that the fish you order will be fresh, for it is sent daily direct from Leghorn, where the owner of La Toscana has a branch establishment.

At night the Gambrinus in one corner of the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele rocks with sound, a band plays at intervals, and till long past midnight red and white wine and most indifferent cigarettes are called for by the revellers. This is hardly a place at which ladies would enjoy themselves, and still less should they be taken to Paoli's—where the young Florentines amuse themselves with good oysters and bad company until the small hours of the morning grow big—or to Picciolo's.

The Cafe la Rosa is a typical haunt of the submerged tenth, with a corrosive drink of its own.

There are not very many dishes distinctively Florentine. Stracotto, braised beef with tomatoes, is one of them; and Fegatini di pollo, giblets stewed in wine sauce, is another. The Tuscan fowls are especially esteemed, and are roasted before a wood fire; and there is a special Florentine salad of haricot beans generally served with caviar. The figs, of many kinds, are delicious, and Presciutto con fichi, fresh figs and ham, are eaten all over Tuscany. The chestnuts from the Appenines are the best flavoured in Italy. Chianti is the local wine.

The Aurora is the restaurant to be patronised at Fiesoli. It has a little garden whence there is a fine view.

Pisa

The Nettuno at Pisa is the old-fashioned Italian inn, and it used to be the restaurant patronised by the officers of the garrison, but for some reason they quarrelled with the proprietor and transferred their custom to the other Italian restaurant and inn, the Cervia.

Pisa prides itself on its puddings and confectionary. The Pattona and Castagnacci, both alla Pisana, are puddings made of chestnut flour and olive oil, and flavoured with fruit. Schiacciata are Easter cakes. In the afternoon, after a walk on the Lungarno, all the world of Pisa goes to Bazzeli, the pastry-cook's shop, and there you may find the elders of the town and the high officers of the garrison, talking over affairs of State while they demolish many little cakes.

Leghorn

An Englishman who knows his Leghorn thoroughly, writes thus:—

The restaurant of the Albergo Giappone is one of the most famous eating-houses in Tuscany. The kitchen is not merely Italian, it is wholly Tuscan, and the Tuscan kitchen in skilful hands appears to content both the gourmet and the gourmand. Affairs once brought a distinguished English gourmet on a brief visit to Leghorn, and accident (for its fame had not preceded him) took him to the Giappone. Instead of staying three days, he stayed three weeks, so that he might ring all the changes of that wonderful menu, and he has since publicly declared that the kitchen of the Giappone is one of the finest in Europe. The English visitor to Leghorn is a rarity, but all famous Italians have at some time or other eaten at the Giappone—Crispi, Zanardelli, Cavallotti, Benedetto Brin, Puccini, Mascagni, to mention only a few among many. The proprietor is the Cav. Pasquale Cianfanelli, known even on the London market for the excellence of his Tuscan wines.

The full Tuscan dinner does not follow in the order of fish, entree, roast, piece de resistance, and game, but of boiled (lesso), fried (fritto), stewed (umido) and roast (arrosto). The boiled may be beef; the fried, sweetbread; the stewed, fish; the roast, pigeon; but this order is always maintained, and the stranger's disappointment at there being no fish after the soup has only been equalled by his astonishment when it turns up in the fourth place. It is for this reason that the Tuscan bill of fare proves such a puzzle to the stranger with only a smattering of the language, for it is not made out under the headings of fish, entrees, joint, etc., but of lessi, fritti, umidi, and arrosti; and fish, for instance, will be found under all four headings. Famous dishes at the Giappone are Spaghetti a sugo di carne (gravy sauce), Risotto with white truffles, Arselle (a small shell-fish) alla Marinara, Triglie (red mullet) alla Livornese, Fritto misto (mixed fry), Controfiletto con Maccheroni, etc. The diner cannot do better than keep to the ordinary vino da pasto, and end with the delicious caffe espresso and a Val d'Ema (Tuscan Chartreuse), green or yellow. The best Tuscan mineral water is the Acqua Litiosa di S. Marco (from the province of Grosseto), and it deserves more than a merely local fame. If the traveller's flask is not already empty, let him try some of its contents with this water, and he will have a pleasant surprise.

Another excellent restaurant in Leghorn is that attached to the Hotel d'Angleterre-Campari, owned by Signori De-Stefani and Clerici, the latter of whom was for a time in London, at the Albergo d'Italia. The cuisine is North Italian and French, and the traveller not thoroughly converted to the Tuscan table will find himself extremely well treated at the Hotel Campari.

Rome

A man who loved strange experiments in eating, once asked me in Rome to dine with him at a very cheap inn outside one of the gates, and he explained how the dinner was arranged. He had found a hostel which did not provide food, but if you bought a lamb from a shepherd outside the gate, so as to save the octroi, you could have it cooked in a great pot, a certain amount being charged for the cooking; and you bought your wine, as a matter of course, at the inn. The carters and herds were, he told me, the people who partook of this repast, and every man ate his own lamb, leaving little but the bones. I did not go to that inn. That place of refreshment was at one end of the social ladder, the Grand and Quirinale are at the other. Set a man down in the restaurant of the Grand, or the Winter Garden of the Quirinale, and there will be nothing to give him a hint as to whether he is in London, or Paris, or Rome. He will eat an excellent dinner—French in all respects—and will be waited on by civil waiters, whom he knows to be foreigners, but who will answer him in English whatever language he addresses them in. At either restaurant an excellent dinner of ceremony can be given. The last time that I stayed at the Grand, I ate the table-d'hote dinner on several occasions and found it good. The Roma in the Corso, and the Colonna in the Piazza Colonna, are the typical city restaurants; but they have a leaning towards the French cuisine. To eat the food of Rome, try La Venete in the Via Campo Marzio, which has a garden; or, more distinctive still, the Tre Re, hard by the Pantheon, where you must talk Italian, or else make signs.

Bucci, in the Piazza della Coppelle, is the Scott's or Driver's of Rome, and you can dine or lunch there off shell-fish soup, and the fish which comes from Anzio and the other fishing villages of the coast.

There is a curious restaurant close by the station, Vagliani is, I fancy, the owner, where artichokes are the staple fare, and where the decorations are in keeping with the food. You will find the foreign colony of art students—Danes, Norwegians, Germans—in the restaurants of the Via delle Crace, Coradetti, where the food is well cooked but served without any unnecessary luxury, being perhaps the best eating-house; but the real haunt of the artist in Rome is, at the present time, the Trattoria Fiorella in the Via delle Colonelli. Only do not go and stare at him while he is taking his meals, for if you do, he will go elsewhere to another trattoria, the position of which he will keep a dead secret. Of course there are Roman dishes without number, and these are some of the best known of them:—

The Zuppa di Pesce is a Bouillabaisse without any saffron. The fish and shell-fish (John Dory, red mullet, cuttle-fish, lobster, whiting, muraena, and mussels) which compose it are served on toast. The Fritto di Calamaretti is a fry of cuttle-fish in oil. Cinghiale in agro dolce is wild boar cooked in a sauce of chocolate, sugar, plums, pinolis, red currant, and vinegar. A bacchio e Capretto alla Cacciatora is very young lamb and sucking-goat cut into small pieces, and cooked in a sauce to which anchovies and chillies give the dominant taste. Pollo en padella are spring chickens cut up and fried with tomatoes, large sweet chillies, and white wine. Pasticcio di Maccheroni is an excellent macaroni pie, and Gnocchi di Patele are little knobs of paste boiled like macaroni. Broccoli, green peas cooked with butter and ham, and, above all, the Roman artichoke stewed in oil—which is to be obtained at its best in the old Jewish eating-houses of the Ghetto—are the vegetables of Rome. A very small ham is one of the local delicacies. Gnocchi di latte are custards in layers, each of which is seasoned with either sugar or butter, or cinnamon or Parmesan cheese; and Zuppa Inglese is a rich cake soused with liqueurs and vanilla cream, covered with meringue and baked. Uova di Bufola is a little ball of cheese made from buffalo's milk. The best kind, Abota is kept in wrappings of fresh myrtle leaves. Marino (red) and Frascati (white) are two of the best local wines. Orvietto has a faint remembrance of the champagne taste. Monte Fiascone is a dessert wine.

Naples

There is a certain man in a certain London club who has a grievance against Italy in general, against Naples in particular, and, to descend to minute detail, against one Neapolitan restaurant above all others. He tells his tale to all comers as a warning to those who will travel in "foreign parts." He returned from a long turn of service in India, and, landing at Naples, concluded that as he was in Europe he could get British food. He went to a restaurant which shall be nameless, and ordered a "chump chop." He had the greatest difficulty, through an interpreter, to explain exactly what it was that he wanted, and then was forced to wait for an hour before it appeared. When the bill was presented it frightened him, but the proprietor, on being summoned, said that as such an extraordinary joint had been asked for, he had been compelled to buy a whole sheep to supply it. This is a warning not to ask for British dishes in a Neapolitan restaurant.

Time was when the Gambrinus, which is the excellently decorated cafe and restaurant at the end of the Chiaja, and the big cafe and restaurant in the great arcade, were at daggers drawn, and a war of cutting down of prices raged. In those happy days one could dine or lunch at either place sumptuously for a shilling. Some meddling busybody interfered in the quarrel and brought the proprietors into a friendly spirit. The Gambrinus, with its bright rooms, good decorations, and fair attendance, is perhaps the best restaurant at which a stranger can take a meal, unless he is looking for the distinctive Neapolitan cookery. If he is in search of the dishes of the town, let him try the Europa or, better still for his purpose, the Vermouth di Torino in the Piazza del Municipio. To eat the fish dishes which show the real cookery of Naples better than any other, he should go out on a moonlight night a couple of miles to the Antica Trattoria dello Scoglio di Frisio, or to the less aristocratic Trattoria del Figlio di Pietro in the Strada Nuova del Posilipo.

Of the macaroni I have already written. The splendid tomatoes grown in Naples, which are cooked with it, give it its particular excellence. It is also seasoned with cheese. Spagetti alle Vongole is the macaroni seasoned with the little shell-fish of the place. Zuppa di Vongole is a clear soup of bread and Vongole. Polpi alla Luciana are small octopi stewed in an earthern pot with oil, tomatoes, chilli, and red wine. Between the pot and the lid a sheet of oiled paper is placed, to prevent the steam from escaping. The Spigola, the most delicate of fishes of the Mediterranean, is at its best between 1 and 1-1/2 lbs. in weight. It is either boiled or roasted, and is served with a sauce of oil, lemon juice, and chopped parsley. A steak alla Pizzaiola is baked in an oven with potatoes, garlic, and thyme; and Pizza alla Pizzaiola is a kind of Yorkshire pudding eaten either with cheese or anchovies and tomatoes flavoured with thyme. Mozzarelle in carozza is a slice of bread soaked in milk and a slice of Provola cheese, the whole plunged in beaten eggs and then fried. There is an excellent Neapolitan method of treating egg-plants, fried in oil, cut in slices, sandwiched with cheese and tomatoes, and then baked. Provola and Cacio Cavallo are the Neapolitan cheeses. Vesuvio, Capri, Gragnano, Lacrima Christa are a few of the wines grown along the bays. The walnuts of Sorrento are the best in Italy.

Palermo

Palermo has its special dishes, amongst them of course its Spagetti, seasoned with minced meat and egg-plant; but its ices and its fruit are its particular delicacies. Marsala, Moscato di Siracusa, and Amarena di Siracusa are the wines of the island. If you want to try Sicilian cookery, go either to the Lincoln by the Plazza Marina or the Rebecchina in the Via Vittoria Emanuele.

N.N.-D.



CHAPTER X

SPAIN AND PORTUGAL

Food and wines of the country—Barcelona—San Sebastian—Bilbao—Madrid—Seville—Bobadilla—Grenada—Jerez— Algeciras—Lisbon—Estoril.

A candid Frenchman, who had lived long in Spain, asked as to the cookery of Spain compared with that of other nations, replied, "It is worse even than that of the English, which is the next worst." That Frenchman was, however, rather ungrateful, for the Spaniards taught the French how to stuff turkeys with chestnuts. The Spanish cooks also first understood that an orange salad is the proper accompaniment to a wild duck, and the Spanish hams are excellent. The lower orders in Spain have too great a partiality for ajo and aceite for oil and garlic. Their oil, which they use greatly even with fish, is not the refined oil of Genoa or the south of France, but is a coarse liquid, the ill taste of which remains all day in one's mouth. Garlic is an excellent seasoning in its proper place and quantity, and the upper classes of the Spaniards have their meat lightly rubbed with it before being cooked, but the lower classes use it in the cooking to an intolerable extent. Capsicum is much eaten in Spain, being sometimes stuffed, but in any quantity it is very indigestible.

In the south of Spain the heat is tropical in the summer, and the only meat then available in any small town is generally goat. As in India, the chicken which you order for your lunch is running about the yard of the inn when the order is given. The principal dish of Spain is Puchero, which consists of beef, very savoury sausages, bacon, fowl, and plenty of the white haricot beans known as garbanzos, some leeks, and a small onion, all put together into a pot to boil. The liquid is carefully skimmed before it actually boils, and as the scum stops forming hot water is added. The broth, Caldo, is used as soup; the remainder, which has had most of the sustaining quality boiled out of it, is the daily dish of the middle and upper classes, who call it Cocido. Gazpaco is a kind of cold soup much used in the southern and hotter parts of Spain. It is made of bread crumbs, bonito fish, onions, oil, vinegar, garlic, and cucumbers. All these are beaten into a pulp, then diluted, and bread broken into the mixture. The better classes drink this as we should afternoon tea. Bacalas, or dried cod, is one of the staple dishes of the poor in the north, and the English in Spain also often eat it. The favourite mode of preparation is to first soak out the salt, then let the cod simmer, but not boil, adding afterwards pimientas dulces and chopped onion fried and pounded. The selection of a cod-fish is the first necessity in preparing this dish, for some of the cheaper kinds from Norway are so odoriferous as to make them impossible to most white men.

Spain is a country which is no happy hunting ground for a gourmet. The restaurants in Barcelona one can rely on, Madrid comes next in honour, and the rest, to use a sporting term, are "nowhere," the customary table-d'hote dinner at the restaurants of a small town consisting of Caldo, then the universal stew, then Arroz a la Valencia, rice, chicken, and tomatoes, and finally quince marmalade.

Lisbon is the one city in Portugal where the cooking is worthy of any serious consideration.

The wines of Spain are the Valdepenas, which is very strong and really requires eight or ten years in bottle to mature, a Rioja claret, which is a good wine when four years in bottle, and of course sherry in the south, of which all the leading brands are obtainable. In the north I have found Diamante a pleasant wine to drink. The Spanish brandy is, if a good brand is chosen, excellent.

Barcelona

The busy bustling capital of Catalonia is better off in the matter of restaurants than any town in Spain, the capital included. First in order comes Justin's, the longer title of which is the Restaurant de Francia, in the Plaza Real. It is an old-established house with a good cook, and excellent wines in its cellars. It is a restaurant that the French would describe as non chiffre, for it does not mark the prices on its card of the day, though they are not higher than at most of the other restaurants of Barcelona. There are some very pleasant private rooms at the restaurant, and a large room for banquets. The cuisine is almost entirely French. You can get a very fair dinner, wine and all, at Justin's for about 6s.; but if you are giving a dinner party, and are prepared to pay 30 pesetas or 18s. a head, Justin's will give you such a dinner as the menu I give below, wine and all:—

Huitres de Marennes. Consomme Colbert. Hors-d'oeuvre varies. Loup. Sauce Hollandaise. Cotelettes de Sanglier Venaison. Salmis de Becasses. Chapon Truffe. Petits pois a la creme. Glace Napolitaine. Desserts assortis.

VINS.

Rioja blanco. Vinicola. Cliquot sec frappe.

The Rioja Blanco, Diamante, and Vinicola seem to be the wines most generally drunk at Justin's. MM. Marius and Gerina are the present proprietors.

In the central square, the Plaza Cataluna, is the new and gorgeous Restaurant Colon, attached to the newly finished hotel of that name. The decorations of the interior are artistic, and the building bears on its facade in gold and colours the arms of the principal European nations. Here, as at Justin's, the cookery is almost entirely of the French school. The chef is M. Azcoaga, the manager Mons. Scatti. There is a good fixed priced lunch and dinner, specimen menus of which I give:—

5 Pts. DEJEUNER.

Hors-d'oeuvre. Oeufs poches Princesse. Filets de Sole Waleska. Poulet Cocotte Bayaldy. Buffet froid. Filet grille. Pommes fondantes. Biscuit glace. Dessert.

6 Pts. DINNER.

Hors-d'oeuvre. Consomme Duchesse. Creme Windsor. Turbot. Sauce Hollandaise. Carre d'Agneau Maintenon. Haricots verts Anglaise. Caille sur Canape. Salade. Peches Richelieu. Dessert.

The Continental and Martin's may be said to run a dead heat for third place. The former is in the Plaza Cataluna, and its cuisine is both foreign and of the country. On its bill of fare are always three plats de jour, and that on one day, Raviolis Napolitaine, Escargots Bourguinonne, and Filet grille Bordelaise were the three dishes, and on another Oeufs Meyerbeer, Filet de veau froid aux Legumes, and Rap Marinera shows the variety of the fare. The prices of these dishes are all between one and two pesetas. Under the heading of fritures, all kinds of conchas and Escalopitas and Croquettas are to be found, as well as the Frito Mixto; and the fish column gives an interesting selection of the sea denizens of the coast, Rap, Calamares, Merluza, Pouvine, and others. The banquets at the Continental are entirely French in character.

Martin's in the Rambla del Centro is almost in front of the Opera House, and has a number of snug little rooms for supper parties, of two or more, after the theatre. This is a dinner for a dozen given at Martin's. The position in the menu of game, hors-d'oeuvre, and fish is in accordance with the usual Spanish custom, and is always adhered to in this establishment:—

VINS.

Jerez Macharnudo. Creme de volaille Royale. Hors-d'oeuvre. Rioja Clarete. Cailles a la Maintenon. Barsac 1893. Saumon de la Loire a la Parisienne. Troncons de Filet a la Perigueux. Asperges en Branches. Moet Chandon. Chapons de la Bresse aux Cressons. Biscuits Glaces au Praline. Dessert assorti.

CAFE ET LIQUEURS.

M. Martin, who is the proprietor, will give you a dinner at any price from 4 pesetas upwards. He was caterer to the kings of Portugal and of Sweden when they were at Barcelona in 1888, and has furnished all the banquets given by the municipal council since 1881. Filet de sole Martin, one of the dishes of the house, proves that he has the Parisian ambition to give a name to a filleted sole.

The Maison Doree which has lately been increased to double its original size, has as proprietors the MM. Pompidor, Frenchmen, who march with the times. It is in the Plaza Cataluna. It makes a speciality of a prix-fixe breakfast and dinner on Thursdays and Saturdays, and it serves tea daily a l'Anglaise from 4 to 6.

Port Bou

There is a little restaurant at Port Bou, kept by Francisco Jaque, where you are likely, if you are making a stay to see the Pyrenees, to be better looked after than at the station on the French side of the frontier. There are rooms to be hired there.

San Sebastian

Crossing the Spanish frontier on the western side from France, the first important town reached is San Sebastian. The great sea-bathing place of Spain is a town where one would expect to find some excellent restaurants, for the Queen-mother lives for a great part of the year in her palace on the sea-shore, and the Court is with the King whenever he is in residence there, which is generally in summer and autumn. A large hotel, with a good restaurant and all the latest improvements, is projected, and no doubt San Sebastian will soon be as well catered for as any French watering-place; but in the meantime it is as well for the casual seeker for a meal to go to the Continental, which overlooks the bay, and where a very fair breakfast is to be obtained for 4 francs in the verandah whence all the life of the place can be watched.

The Casino has a restaurant with a wide verandah which should be a delightful place at which to take dinner. I had been warned that I should not be well served there, but one day I thought that the view of the town and the garden, with its picturesque crowd, would make amends for any dilatoriness. This was the menu of the dinner that I partook of, and, though wine was included in the repast, to conciliate the haughty Spaniard in dress-clothes who came and looked at me as though I were an "earth-man," I ordered a pint of Diamante:—

Hors-d'oeuvre.

POTAGES.

Creme de volaille. Consomme Riche.

POISSON.

Langouste. Sauce Tartare.

ENTREE.

Salmis de Perdreaux au Jerez.

LEGUMES.

Tomates farcies Provencale.

ROTI.

Filet de Boeuf Pique Broche. Salade.

ENTREMETS.

Arlequin. Dessert.

I do not think that I ever had a worse-served 7 francs worth of food. Once in my life, at a Chicago hotel, I saw a negro waiter shaking up the bottle of Burgundy I had ordered, just to amuse his brother "coons," and I felt a helpless exasperation as I watched him. The same feeling of voiceless anger was upon me as I watched the gentleman who was supposed at the San Sebastian Casino to keep me supplied with hot food, bring a dish from the interior of the cafe and then put it down on somebody else's table to cool while he strolled across the terrace to ask the military guardian at the gate how many people had paid for admission, or at what hour the band played, or what number had won the lottery.

Bourdette and the Urbana, both with French cookery, are the restaurants patronised by the Englishmen in San Sebastian who talk Spanish, and both are said to be fairly good.

Bilbao

It is curious that at the great northern town of Spain there should be no first-class restaurants. The two best in the town are the Antiguo, in the Calle de Bidebarrieta, and the Moderno. Both of these boast what the Spaniards term Cocina Francesa, which only means that if you make a request, as the English always do, the cook will fry your food with butter instead of oil.

At Portugalete, the port of Bilbao, there is a restaurant, good, as Spanish restaurants go, attached to the hotel of the place, the proprietor of which is Dn. Manuel Calvo. The cook and the staff of waiters come from Lhardy's, the best restaurant in Madrid, and spend their summer by the seaside. The prices at this restaurant are high. Portugalete is only a summer resort.

Northern Towns

At Santander, a little further along the northern coast, the best food to be obtained is found at the Hotel Europa; but the best is bad at Santander. At Burgos and at Zaragoza the two largest hotels in each place give the least indifferent food.

Madrid

The capital of Spain cries aloud for a Carlton, or a Ritz, or a Savoy, and is, I believe, soon to have a really large hotel with a restaurant managed on the lines which we are accustomed to in all the important European capitals. The Hotel de Paris, one of the two noisy and expensive hotels on the Puerta del Sol, has always had a reputation for its cookery, always remembering that the standard in Spain is not high. There is a table-d'hote lunch and a table-d'hote dinner, of the latter of which I append a menu which is a fair specimen:—

Consomme Julienne. Merlan Sauce aux Capres. Filet de Boeuf Renaissance. Galantine Truffee a l'Aspic. Haricots Verts Sautes. Cailles au Cresson. Creme au Chocolat Glacee. Desserts assortis.

The cookery of the house is French, but Spanish dishes can be obtained by an order given in advance. There used to be a manager at the Paris who was known as Constantino—what his other name was no one knew. He was a universal provider, and the Englishmen who knew him and who used to stay at the Madrid, never hesitated to ask him for anything procurable in the capital, from a ticket for a bull-fight to a genuine Murillo, quite sure that next morning they would find in the office what they had asked for the previous evening.

Lhardy's, in the Curera de San Jeronimo, is the typical Madrid restaurant not attached to an hotel. The appearance of the ground floor is that of a charcutier's and pastry-cook's combined. The restaurant you will find on the first floor, where a table-d'hote dinner and lunch are served. The annexed menu shows what the daily lunch is like:—

Potage Tortue a l'Americaine. Turbot Garni. Sauce Crevettes. Filets de Boeuf a la Vatel. Bellevue de Perdreaux a l'Ecarlate. Dindonneaux rotis au Cresson. Salade Russe. Glace Conde. Dessert.

VINS.

Jerez. Bordeaux. Champagne Frappe. Cafe and Liqueurs.

The Cafe de Fornos is also well spoken of by all who have experimented. The restaurant at the Fornos is in the cafe on the ground floor. On the first floor are the private rooms. There are several of the restaurants with cabinets particuliers where little suppers are given after the theatre, the Fornos being one; but the Madrilese dandy, wishing to sup a deux, generally chooses the Cafe Ingles, as the private rooms are very well decorated. The Perla is also well spoken of. All these restaurants profess the French cuisine, and at Lhardy's as good a dinner is obtainable as at the best restaurants of Barcelona.

Seville

At Seville you dine and breakfast at your hotel, whether it be the Madrid or the Paris, both very good hotels for Spain. There is a table-d'hote dinner at each after the style of the meal of which I have given a menu under the heading of Madrid. At both hotels an extra charge is made to those aristocrats who will not sit at the long table which runs down the centre of the highly ornamented dining-room and are accommodated at little tables at the sides of the room. The great patio of the Madrid, with its palm grove and creepers, is a delightful place to sit in after dinner.

The dinner-hour at Seville is seven o'clock. There is a Restaurant Suizo in the Calle de las Sierpes, and a little restaurant, the Eritana, with a pleasant garden, is to be found near the turning point of the drive that the beauty and fashion of Seville take on fine afternoons down the Paseo de las Delicias by the river. If you are tempted to try the Manzanilla wine with its proper accompaniment of snails or langostinos, visit the Taberna, opposite the Madrid Hotel; and if you are a bachelor, do not mind an atmosphere of smoke, can make yourself understood in Spanish, and like local colour, take your cafe au lait of an evening in the Cafe Cantante of the Calle Sterpes. You will recognise the house by the little dancing-girl on the lamp.

Bobadilla

The junction of the lines to Seville, Granada, and Algeciras is Bobadilla, and there all trains wait for half an hour that the passengers may feed. The meal is a very fair sample of Spanish cookery, and you are given soup or eggs, according to the time of day, an entree, a joint, and fish. I can still recall a Bobadillian meal, with the taste of garlic acting as a sort of Leitmotiv in all the dishes, of omelette, stewed beef and beans, a ragout of veal, fried fish in butter, and cheese. Do not omit to cast an eye on the fair damsel behind the bar. She is a typical Andalusian beauty and is used to admiration.

Grenada

The hotels Siete Suclos and Washington Irving are the two principal hotels near the Alhambra, and are crowded with tourist-trippers of all nations, Americans and Germans predominating, during the tourist season. At the Siete Suclos the cookery is said to be Spanish in character. My personal experience is confined to the Washington Irving, and on the first day of my stay, when I tried to order breakfast and the waiter, in answer to my query as to what dishes were ready, rolled out with great rapidity, "Beefsteeake, colfolanam, baconnegs, mutton-chops, mutton cotolettes," I thought that the local Spanish dishes sounded something like English ones. Englishmen who live in Spain tell me that they generally go to the Alhambra, which I take to be the Casa de Huespedes, 3 Alhambra, a lodging-house where I fancy only Spanish is spoken.

Cadiz and Jerez

At Cadiz the cooking at the Grand Hotel de Paris is Spanish and good of its kind. At Jerez the cooking at the Fondas de Los Cisnes and La Victoria is Spanish also. This is the menu of a dinner at the Hotel Los Cisnos:—

Consomme de Quenelles a la Royal. Filetes de Tenguados a la Tutus. Chuletas de Cordero a la Inglesa. Pechugas de Pollos a la Suprema. Perdices al jugo. Ensalada Rusa. Esparragos de Aranjuez, salsa blanca. Mantecados de Vainilla y Fresa. Postres variados.

Algeciras

The town on the Spanish side of the bay has redeemed Gibraltar from its ill fame as a place of entertainment. The late Ignacio Lersundi, under whose rule the Bristol in London—now converted into a ladies' club—gave one of the best, if not the best, table-d'hote dinners obtainable in the English capital, supervised the arrangements of the Hotel Reina Christina, and the table-d'hote dinner there still is an excellent one.

Lisbon

There are good hotels to stay at in Lisbon and there are restaurants in plenty, but to try the cookery of some of the town eating-houses a gourmet requires to have his taste educated up to, or down to, the Portuguese standard.

At the Braganza, a little club of bachelor Britons have been in the habit of dining together and ordering their dinner in advance, and this is a fair sample of what the steady-going but very comfortable hostelry can do when it chooses:—

POTAGES. Madeira Riche. Queues de Boeuf. Creme Clamart. Petits Souffles Desir. Johannisberger Saumon Sauce Genevoise. (Claus). Selle de Presale a la Montpensier. Poularde a l'Ambassadrice. Chateau Giscours. Pain de foies gras en Bellevue. Punch au Kirsch. Asperges Sauce Mousseuse. George Goulet, Pintades Truffees. 1892 Vintage. Salade Japonaise. Timbales a la Lyon d'Or. Porto 1815. Glaces a la Americaine. Petits fours. Dessert. Liqueurs. CAFE.

A good table-d'hote breakfast and dinner are served daily at 11 A.M. and 7 P.M. and the price is moderate, being about 800 reis and 1.200 respectively. (It is well to remember that the exchange varies considerably, and it is therefore difficult to give the equivalents in sterling for the prices quoted, but 5500 to 6000 reis may be roughly taken at L1 sterling.) The proprietor is M. Sasetti, who is ably supported by his manager and by a head waiter named Celestino, a most useful person in every way.

Wines, spirits, and liqueurs of foreign origin are expensive at the Braganza, as they are everywhere else, owing to the high custom tariff; but the local wines, amongst which may be cited Collares, Cadafaes, Collares Branco, Serradayres white and red, etc., are all good and cheap table wines.

The next restaurant as regards comfort, cleanliness, and cuisine is the Cafe Tavares, situated in the Rua Largo de S. Roque. It is essentially a cafe restaurant, and is open from breakfast time in the morning till 3 or 4 the following morning. Tavares is the principal rendezvous of the young bloods, both Portuguese and foreign, particularly so after the theatres and opera are over and suppers are in demand. The revel goes on from twelve o'clock until any hour of the morning, more especially as regards the cabinets particuliers, which are best entered from the back entrance situated in the Rua das Gaveas. A very good table-d'hote lunch and dinner are served daily at the very moderate cost of 600 and 800 reis. The proprietor and manager is Snr. Caldeira, who is most attentive and obliging to his guests.

If any visitor to Lisbon is anxious to try the Portuguese cooking, he cannot do better than pay a visit to the Leao d'Ouro, situated in the Rua de Principe, adjoining the Central Railway Station. This formerly was, and to a great extent still is, the rendezvous of actors, authors, and professional men. The food is good and very cheap, served a la carte. Portuguese food may be called "highly seasoned," but for all that there are many good dishes, one speciality of the house being Sopa de Camarao, a bisque of prawns, which in no way is to be despised. With regard to wines at this restaurant it is advisable to drink those of the country.

Estoril

Estoril is a very picturesque and beautiful spot about three-quarters of an hour from Lisbon by rail. Here there has been lately established a high-class hotel with cuisine a la Francaise and good wines. The hotel is owned and managed by M. Estrade, who has had a long experience in this class of business.

N.N.-D.



CHAPTER XI

AUSTRIA AND HUNGARY

Viennese restaurants and cafes—Baden—Carlsbad—Marienbad—Prague—Bad Gastein—Budapesth.

Vienna

The cuisine of the best of the Viennese restaurants, those attached to the big hotels, is French, though the Wiener Rostbraten and the Wiener Schnitzel are world-famous, and the typical Viennese dinner is a good French dinner with the addition of very delicious bread and pastry made with a lighter hand than any Gallic cook brings to his task. The wines of the country of Retz, Mailberg, Pfaffstadt, Gumpoldskirchen, Klosterneuberg, Nussberg, and Voeslau should all be tasted, most of them being more than drinkable. Beer, however, is the real Viennese drink, and the very light liquid, ice cold, is a delightful beverage.

"Stay at what hotel you please, but dine at the Bristol," was the advice given me nigh a score of years ago when I first visited Vienna, and it holds good now; indeed of late the "smart set" of Vienna has taken it greatly into favour, and dines or sups there—the opera and plays begin at 7 and end at 10—constantly. The prices, a la carte, are high, but the cooking is good. Some specialities of the house are trout taken alive from the aquarium, Huitres Titania, Homard Cardinal, Poularde Wladimir, Souffle King Edward VII., Oranges a l'Infante.

Sacher's, in the hotel of that name just behind the Opera House, is very well known and may be taken as the typical Viennese restaurant. It is expensive, as indeed all the best Viennese restaurants are. It is not quite so exclusively French in its cuisine as some of the other good restaurants, and one of its plats de jour is always a national dish, as often as not a Hungarian one, so that by dining or breakfasting at Sacher's one obtains some idea of what the real cookery of the dual monarchy is like. Sacher's has a branch establishment in the Prater, which is always in high favour with the Viennese.

Hartmann's (Leidinger's successor) in the Ring, is an excellent restaurant to breakfast at. Here more of the national dishes—the pickled veal, smoked sucking pig, stewed beef of various kinds, Risi-Bisi, stewed pork—are to be found than at the restaurants mentioned above. It is rather Bohemian, but only pleasantly so.

A good word may be said for the cooking at Meissl and Schadn's, in the Kaernthenerstrass, and for that at the Reidhof.

The Stephan Keller (Cafe de l'Europe) in the Stephan Platz is a much frequented cafe. It was originally an underground resort in the vaults of St-Stephan, but it has risen to a higher sphere. This house is much used by the colony of artists who also are to be found at Hartmann's, Gause's, and the Rother Igel.

There are wine houses—Esterhazy Keller, for instance, where all classes go to drink the Hungarian wines from the estates of Prince Esterhazy—without number, and many of these have their speciality of Itrian or Dalmatian wines. The summer resorts are mostly for the people only; they are butterfly cafes opening in the summer and closing in the winter, and if their clientele deserts them there are only some painted boards, tables, and benches to be carted away and a hedge to be dug out; but in the Prater there are some more substantial establishments, Sacher's, mentioned before, and the Rondeau and Lusthaus, which are made the turning-points in the daily drives of the Viennese.

Vienna keeps very early hours, the cafes closing well before midnight, unless they are kept open for some special fete.

In the environs of Vienna there are pleasant restaurants on the Kalenberg, up which a little railway runs, and at Klosterneuberg, where one can drink the excellent wine of the place at the Stiftskeller before one admires the view from the terrace or looks at the treasures of the abbey.

Baden

Baden bei Wien is a little watering-place sixteen miles from the capital, to which the Viennese go for a "cure," and to which the Carlsbad and Marienbad doctors sometimes send their patients to begin an after cure. It is a pretty little place with shady parks and an unpretentious restaurant at the Kurhaus and another in the Weilburggasse, and the walk up the valley of the Schwechat has cafe-restaurants at several of the points of interest.

Carlsbad

Probably twenty Englishmen go to Carlsbad for their liver's sake for every ten who go to Vienna to be amused, and the great Bohemian town in the valley where the hot spring gushes up is one of the resorts to which gourmets, who have eaten not wisely but too well, are most frequently sent. It is a town of good but very simple fare, for the doctors rule it absolutely, and nothing which can hurt a patient's digestion is allowed to appear on the bill of fare of any of the restaurants or hotels.