Very sincerely
Charles Delmonico
THE TABLE.
THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE.
The pleasures of the table are enjoyed by all who possess good health. Nothing is more fascinating than to be seated at a well-served, well-cooked breakfast or dinner; and yet, of the immense number that enjoy the good cheer and luxuries of the table, how few, very few, there are who stop to consider the vexatious trouble our host undergoes when arranging the daily bill of fare. “Variety is the spice of life,” but nowhere is it more important, aye, actually necessary, than in the getting up of a palatable meal. This pertains not only to the dining-room of a hotel of the least pretensions or to the so-called “grand” restaurant, but particularly to the family table. The writer has known a gentleman who presided over an immense restaurant, and daily provided the supplies therefor. He experienced no difficulty with any single part of his business, yet when he came to arrange the details of his own family’s meals, and attempted to practically fulfill them, he was puzzled and annoyed beyond description. And, after all, there is no place in the civilized world where the market for the supply of food is so well provided as in New York, both as to variety and excellence, and even as to luxuries. Educated as thousands of persons have been, in the art of dining, by the famous Delmonico and his able lieutenants, New York, perhaps, contains a larger number of so-called high-livers than any other city.
These “gourmands” (if you please), and their number is legion, have, with the aid of the excellent resources of the American market and the encouragement given to the culinary art of the period, brought the modern American table to virtual perfection. This is saying a great deal, inasmuch as the famed restaurants of London, Paris, and Vienna have ever claimed a reputation and an ascendancy over others that seemed to form a part of history itself.
But as times change, so we change with them. Westward the course of Empire sways, and the great glory of the past has departed from those centres where the culinary art at one time defied all rivals. The sceptre of supremacy has passed into the hands of the great metropolis of the New World. It has been the writer’s good fortune to gain experience on this subject from his observations in Europe as well as in this country. He can state, without fear of contradiction, that more first-class, well-fatted, and corn-fed cattle reach the markets of New York, than any other market of the United States. Whenever a first-class article of beef is required by one of the inland hotels, they send to New York for it.
Ask the ordinary traveler, and he will tell you that a first-class steak, an “A 1” chop, or prime roast beef is a rara avis in hotels outside of New York. London has excellent mutton and good beef; that is all. Paris gives plenty of variety, but it is all of an inferior quality with the exception of veal, which is good. The same may be said of northern Germany, where, in addition, the larger hotels in Hamburg and Bremen are able to supply good steaks, the cattle in that country being of fine quality.
Yet no American, accustomed to his prime beef at New York, can be pleased at any of these continental hotels, as he loses sight of his favorite roast and steak.