IN REGENT STREET.
If you are in the neighborhood of Piccadilly Circus, a fair place to get luncheon at a fair price is “the Florence” in Rupert street, Regent street. It is an Italian restaurant; the lunch is served table d’hôte and the price is one shilling and sixpence. But there is no profit to the restaurateur in the mere lunch: you are expected to order wine—indeed that is the expectation in all English restaurants and hotels—all hotels that are not temperance houses. At the Florence you can get dinner from six to nine, for half-a-crown—sixty-two cents—and you order wine of course.
If you are fond of high living, and you don’t mind paying for it, take a meal in the middle of the day or early in the evening at the Hotel Continental. It is in the lower part of Regent street, on the corner of Waterloo place, within the shadow of the Duke of York column. It was one of the first houses in London to adopt the French style in name—Hotel Continental in lieu of Continental Hotel—and it was one of the first to serve a first class dinner in the French style. The reputation for its cuisine is second to none, and the hotel prides itself upon the accuracy of the names and vintages of the wines supplied. It has the monopoly in London of that famous brand of champagne, “Medaille d’Or” which received the grand prize in the French Exhibition of 1878 over sixty other competing wines. Cigarettes made of the finest tobacco are manufactured expressly for the hotel in Constantinople and Salonica.
There is always a very gay scene in the Hotel Continental supper room after the theatres close; it might become too lively in the early hours of the morning, but the police regulations oblige such places as the Continental to close their doors at one A.M. Dinner from seven-and-six to twelve-and-six, without wine, of course; for although you are in the Continental you are not on the Continent. A. Y. Wilson, who has been connected with the house since its opening, is the manager.
More attention is given to “the inner man” in London than in any other place I wot of. They seem to live to eat there, not eat to live, and yet some one has noted this difference—you eat dinner in London, while in Paris you dine. Mention the subject of restaurants in London and the majority will ask you, “Have you dined at Verrey’s in Regent street?” Yes, I’ve been to Verrey’s and I found it very gloomy, and very expensive not to say oppressive. You are in the middle of the house and the room is lighted from a skylight. It is not at all cheerful.
Blanchard’s, “The Burlington,” 169 Regent street, is patronized by the higher classes. Dinner from five shillings to twelve-and-six. No higher priced dinner in London.
For a healthful, nicely-served meal, whether it consist of a mutton chop and a boiled potato or a dinner of several courses, much better than the aforesaid establishments in Regent street is the Café Royal, at No. 68 Regent street. In the “Grand Café Restaurant Royal,” where dinner is served, prices rule high. For luncheon go into the “Grill Room” of the Café Royal. You will find the rates reasonable, the food of the best, the appointments on a grand scale, and the service satisfactory. These remarks will also apply to “The Monico,” at Piccadilly Circus and Shaftesbury avenue.
The St. James Restaurant, which extends from Piccadilly to Regent street, with entrances on both streets, is a large, showy place, with plenty of glitter about it, and wearing the big-sounding title of St. James Hall. The rates are not low, the food is not of the choicest quality, the service is not of the best, and the waiters may over-charge you unless you watch them closely. The charge for washing your hands at the St. James, be you a patron or not, is two-pence. This is a regular charge made by the proprietors, but if you don’t also fee the man who hands you a towel or fills your basin, you might get a cold reception down-stairs the next time you call, and you may fill your own basin.
At the Criterion, in Piccadilly Circus, you can take your choice; go up stairs, and the charges are higher; down in the basement the same dishes are served at a lower price. To quote their bill, “table d’hôte three-and-six, le diner Parisien, five shillings.”
English people when they are thirsty drink beer, wine, or something stronger; Americans who live in cities, American women at least, prefer something weaker, soda water, for instance, which, charged with gas, looks cool and inviting as it comes bubbling from a highly polished, silver-plated fountain. Not until recently could American taste in this matter be gratified in London. Now there are two “American confectioneries” kept by Fuller, one, the principle establishment, at 206 Regent street; the other, at 358 Strand, both central locations. The first is close to Oxford Circus and not far from the Langham Hotel. At Fuller’s you can get ice-cream soda and “caramels fresh ever hour.” In fact, on a pleasant summer day Fuller’s, in Regent street, will remind you of Huyler’s on Broadway, and if you are a New Yorker, you will meet many familiar faces there. If you retain a juvenile penchant for peanuts, that taste can also be gratified at Fuller’s.