It was explained to me that though the English beef is good for roasting, the French beef only is used for bouillon, and looking at the two I could understand the reason. The vegetables and all the poultry for the Savoy come from France, and I was beginning to feel quite ashamed of England as a food-producing country, when a handsome compliment to the English mutton restored my confidence. The long array of birds, from turkeys to snipe, resting on a bed of crushed ice with a free current of air round them, looked appetising, and so did the fish and the score of varieties of cold entrées, most of them embedded in amber jelly, and the petits fours and sweet-meats fresh drawn from the oven. The carving of the harps, and birds, and Prince of Wales's feathers out of a solid block of ice to form pedestals for ices is artist's work, and so is the making of baskets and flowers from sugar.
M. Joseph slightly went beyond his three dishes in the menu I found awaiting the good angel and myself:—
Petite marmite.
Sole Reichenberg.
Caneton à la presse. Salade de saison.
Fonds d'artichauts à la Reine.
Bombe pralinée. Petits fours.
Panier fleuri.
We were among the familiar surroundings, the walls of mahogany panelling, the golden ceiling; but there was one novelty, and that was that pushed up to our little table was another one, with on it a great chafing-dish, some long slim knives, and a variety of little plates containing lemons, grated cheese, and a number of other condiments, and while we drank our soup, made with the famous bouillon, of which I had been told the secret, Joseph mixed the delicate liquid in which the slices of sole were later to be placed, soaked the croûte in the savoury mixture, and, finally, on the white filets placed the oysters, pouring over them also the foaming broth.
The good angel was equal to the occasion. Not only was she radiantly handsome, but she appreciated the special beauties of this most excellent sole; and when Joseph came back to the table to carve the duck, he knew that his audience of two were enthusiasts. In an irreverent moment I was reminded of the Chinese torture of the Ling Chi, in which the executioner slashes at his victim without hitting a vital part in the first fifty cuts, as I watched Joseph calmly, solemnly, with absolute exactitude, cutting a duck to pieces with a long, thin knife; but irreverence faded when the rich sauce had been mixed before our eyes and poured over the slices of the breast—the wings and legs, plain devilled, coming afterwards as a sharp and pleasant contrast.
The Panier Fleuri, which ended our dinner, a tiny fruit-salad in a basket cut by Joseph from an orange, was a special compliment to the good angel. The bill was: Two couverts, 1s.; champagne, 18s.; marmite, 2s. 6d.; sole Reichenberg, 5s.; caneton à la presse, 18s.; salade, 1s. 6d.; fonds d'artichauts, 2s. 6d.; bombe, 3s.; café, 1s. 6d.; liqueurs, 4s.; total, £2: 17s.
It was no empty compliment when on leaving I told M. Joseph that the dinner was a perfect work of art.
The following are the Créations de Joseph:—
Sole de Breteuil—Sole à la Reichenberg—Filets de soles Aimée Martial—Sole d'Yvonne—Pomme de terre Otero—Pommes de terre de Georgette—(dédié à Mlle. Brandès)—Sole Dragomiroff—Pilaff aux moules—Homard à la Cardinal—Homard Ld. Randolph Churchill—Queue de homard Archiduchesse—Homard d'Yvette—Darne de saumon Marcel Prévost—Filets de maquereau Marianne—Filets de sole Duparc—Côte de bœuf Youssoupoff—Poularde Marivaux—Poularde Vladimir—Poulet Gd. Maman—Poulet Archiduchesse—Caneton à la Presse—Caneton froid Jubilé—Foie gras Souvaroff (chaud ou froid)—Bécasse au Fumet—Filet de laperau à la Sorel—Cailles à la Sand—Aubergines "Tante Pauline"—Crêpes du Diable—Crêpes Christiane—Pêches Cardinal—Pêches Rosenfeld—Le Soufflé d'Eve—Fraises à la Marivaux—Ananas Master Joe—Ananas de Daisy—Les paniers fleuris aux quartiers d'orange.