A rough sketch of modern Paris

by J. G. Lemaistre

As to the “traiteurs,” or persons who supply you with dinners, they sometimes belong to the house where you lodge, and sometimes not.

I tried several during my stay at Paris, and I found them all so bad, and so uncertain, that, were I to return, I would either hire a cook, or dine constantly at the house of a “restaurateur[91].” The most celebrated are, Naudit, and Robert, in the Palais Royal, Beauvillier in the rue de la Loi, and Verry in the garden of the Thuilleries. Besides the public room, which is always elegantly ornamented, there is, at each of these places, several small rooms, or cabinets, for private parties. A long bill of fare, called “la carte,” consisting of all the delicacies of the season, and every variety of wine, with the prices affixed to each article, is handed to you, and the dishes are no sooner named, than they are instantly served. The apartments are tastefully decorated, the linen and plate are particularly clean, and the waiters civil, attentive, and well dressed. The cooking is incomparable. Ladies, as well as gentlemen, dine at these houses, and even in the public room several of the former are always present. On a rough calculation, the expense of dining at one of the first restaurateurs, including a fair quantity of the best wine, varies from twelve livres (ten shillings) to a louis each person.

There are, however, inferiour houses of this kind, where, even for trent-six sols (or eighteen pence english) a dinner of several dishes, and a bottle of wine, are allowed. As I never tried one of these economical repas, I cannot speak of the fare they afford. A returned “abbé” assured me, that he dined in this manner “à merveille;” but, notwithstanding his authority, I should scarcely recommend a hungry englishman to make the experiment.

In concluding my account of hotels and traiteurs, I must repeat my advice to you, to make a previous bargain for whatever you may want. In Paris, no tradesman has a settled price; and the shopkeeper or landlord, who has the most respectable appearance, is not to be trusted.

An englishman, who, from delicacy, omits to offer a smaller sum than that which is asked, may be certain, that he makes a present of at least fifty per cent to the person of whom he purchases. In every line of trade the same system is pursued; and even in buying books and plate, I have known one fourth of the original demand taken.

Strangers ought to be particularly careful, how they deal with the “marchands” of the “hôtel garni” where they lodge. They are a tribe of people, who, under the recommendation of the landlord or porter, to whom they pay a regular commission at the expense of the traveller, knock perpetually at his door, and, with the utmost importunity, insist on showing the different articles of their trade. What they sell is always dear, generally out of fashion, and frequently damaged.

In calculating the expenses of Paris, much will depend on the manner in which an individual lays out his money; and I am certain, that if a good manager and a thoughtless young man were, during a winter passed in Paris, to order exactly the same articles, and were afterwards to compare their disbursements, a difference would appear in the result, of nearly one half. It must be remembered also, that “milord anglais” (as they call every englishman) is supposed to be so very rich, and so lavish of his treasures, that he is rather flattered than offended by the largeness of the sums which he is called upon to pay; and, while a conscientious tradesman is satisfied with asking of another foreigner about forty or fifty per cent beyond the value of his goods, he fails not to demand double of him, whom, by his accent, he discovers to be a native of that happy island, in which frenchmen believe, that gold is as common as the air we breathe.

With these remarks, thrown out as a necessary caution, I shall conclude my subject; and, meaning to write to you once again, before I leave Paris, I shall, for the present, bid you adieu.

I am, &c.