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Show V Vv THE SALT LAKE TRIBUNE, SUNDAY MORKING, NOVEMBER 17, 19D9. hen JManhatt Style ' ' jj I j . Soma o (n oU waiters art back . , t but reired on tnuf fortunes built of more n dpi received, back in the gay 90'$. IDelmonico's Is Staging But Eating Ceremonies So Much in the. TW a Meal a Comeback, Have Changed R&JI.. List Hundred Years in the Modem Manner v MM, The new Delmonico' it a ritzy place . . . but gone are the days tvhen nof even gentlemen c smoke and the sociath un- desirable Waited in vain-J- ould ot Could Never Pass for One of Those the location shifted uptown announced a A gentleman change in regulations. could now puff his cigar if he wished. There were other similar ". But there was no chance for a man and his maid to be alone in the dear Victorian past. The rule stood strict and firm: a young man dining with a young woman in one of the rooms or nooks must be accompanied by an acceptable chaperone. And again, the head waiters had a keen eye Did anyone ' arrive for the "who's who." whose social status or character might appear vague and suspicious, there was no. scene made. It was the unwritten law that they would not be served. The head waiter would approach them, but a waiter would never arrive. They were allowed to sit until they wearied of it, when they would walk out in a huff. Yes, things have changed mightily since that famous night in the history of gastronomies, when Lobster a la Newberg came into being I As a matter of fact, theoretically there is no such dish as "Lobster Newberg." That name is accidental or on purpose. a typographical error WHEN Orgies Served by the Swiss Chefs ." Who Ruled When Words by GILBERT SWAN Sketches by GEORGE CLARK O Was Food Sacred fV,$k I N a blustery Autumn morning, slight ly more than century ago, a Swiss immigrant lad by the name oi John Delmonico stood on a tide street of lower New York iinilina two dol .. uwunuir I lars in hii pocket This constituted his worldly goods. And since it did, be realized the value of hesitating before plunging too suddenly into a business Unaccompanied ladies . : . Were mi admitted to the neither xvere those who divided old Delmonico's -- their attention among several escorts. venture. But John Delmonico had determined to open somehow or other. The Swiss were beginning to achieve an international reputation for catering and serving. And this reputation was just beginning to reach America. In years to come, the famous college for waiters in Geneva was to be the center of competition for those historic gay spots of Manhattan's vesterday. Rector's and Sherry's and the Waldorf and all the rest once bid in the open market for the Swiss cafe experts and huge a cafe sums went into the dickering. But John Delmonico was the pioneer.'. From a small place, opened with his brother, Peter, in the old Beaver street district, he began slowly to grow. And as he grew he sent home for cousins and uncles and aunts pressing the whole family into service. Thus they marched steadily northward with the city, from Beaver to Fourteenth, which wis then the Broadway of Gotham; and from Fourteenth to Fifth avenue in the Twenties; and from there to the last stamping ground in Forty-fourt- h street. : In this march Delmonico's became the capital of the world. Its patrons ran from princes to presidents to dilettante social From Lincoln ta Roosevelt every spenders. American president sampled its rare vintages and partook of its genial hospitality. . L1 '. " . 1 .7 with the pioneering hosts long hung crepe upon the door-- ' way which still 4xre the Delmonico name. A daughter bad been carrying on, in partnership with some restaurant men. One night, with a few carefully-selecte- d guests on hand, the orchestra played "Auld Lang Syne," and the doors were locked. Delmonico's seemed to have joined the frothy legends of the past. But it so happens that about the time Ward social monitor of the McAllister, one-ti"Smart Set," was scribbling down the names of the ''400' in Delmonico's private dining room, in Lodz, Poland, peasants were still being hitched to plows by tlie aristocracy and aHUndercurrent of revolt was stirring in those who had not been too completely broken. One of the lads who broke away and came to America found himself, standing even as John Delmonico on a side street, counting the few dimefln his pockets and wondering when he would get a job. He found work finally a a journeyman painter and carpenter.-.:.- .' And when just "a short time ago the name Delmonico's reappeared in Gotham-H4hisijmgrant lad, ben Winter,, was guiding 'its destinies. ago. SIX years'prohibition . i.-- ni- When it had been prepared he invited all to join him. There was much smacking of lips and much kissing of finger tips and a great deal of The captain was asked if his , dish could not be placed upon the bill of fare as a. great novelty and a supreme, discovery. The skipper gave his permission and his recipe and there appeared thereafter on the card, "Lobster a la Wenberg:" The old cap-rai- n was quite puffed out about it. The dish was the rage of the hour.' It was irr tremendous demand. But temperament had its day and the old captain ceased to come. Whereupon some little time afterward the patrons may had become haye noticed a change. The tid-b- it "Lobster Newberg- - as you can see, a slight change of spelling from Wenberg. Delmonico's is known to this day as the place where Lobster Newberg originated, but the story of its birth is practically unknown. "oo-la-la- ." the nineties came competition for George Rector, the "man who changed Broadway." "I found Broadway a quiet little lane of ham and eggs," Rector recited in his memoirs. n avenue of lobster, cham"I left it a headaches. . . . pagne, and morning-afte- r When Broadway sought to sleep, I turned night time into day." From Delmonico's, Rector secujed Paul Perret lured over by assurances of quick wealth. And from Delmonico's, Rector took Andy Mehler, another Swiss, when a bait of $10,000 a year a fabulous sum for those days was dangled under his nose. With tip and stock interest that ran this income to $25,000. Peacock Alley began to attract the "400" to the Waldorf. Keen competition had set in. But even with the invasion of the "sporty crowd." Delmonico's stuck to proprie-ti- s which would cause even grandma to grin in this day and age. There was the episode, for instance, of OfThe comfenbach's arrival in New York. poser, basking in the fame of his "Love Tales of Hoffman," came over to supervise the American production. He took quarters at Delmonico's. And took it as a matter of course that he could transplant French gaiety. Arriving one evening with a merry little maid from his company, he was told curtly that he could not take her to a crivate booth without an escort. Offenbach raged and stormed and finally packed up his. grips and walked out movingi across the street, lhen he wrote letters to th French papers, protesting against the "terrible WITH ed "Isn't it perfectly thrilling, m) deahl ijust to he dining at 7 . ster Nervbergl" The difference in the Delmonico' of then the Delmonico s of the moment would furnish a short history of Social change. Things "ain't what they used to be," as Henry Schwartz will tell you as he makes his Henry is one of. way around the new resort. four waiters of the "old place" rounded up again to provide atmosphere. dur-- " Henry has become a bit bandy-leggea bit bent and less ing the intervening years He has wandered far. spry in hi movements. afield, since.. he left in 1912. So has Fred Spiegel and George Boehm. two others of the" "old brigade." Charley Groiss. whoTcomes in to look things over from time to time, now has his own coffee house in New .Jersey. At- - the mere suggestion of ever "coming back" Charley shakes his head emphatically. He ' who once was "Charley of Delmonico's" perhaps the best known head waiter in New York is content to serve coffee; and crullers to the "depot crowd" and "be on his own." Little is known of what became of the rest. There was John McCue, the doorman,, .wha.was, said to have "retired" with $15,000 and a comfortable fortune made by good investments. There was "Crispi." for 37 years a ciotairrxr wailin, wtio said he was go fTTHE J and s h . doorman's tvhistlc a grinding taxi brakes ... of . : i J ' .' and the modern diners-oare on their ivoj) to the theater. . ... . 7n the' days of the .7V Puritanism of this land. And there are hundreds of unwritten pages of the smart affairs, of the gay private dances. bri"carriage gade" leave-takin- g nas a maw' much more formal business. back home." And probably did. Lattard. the Maitre d'Hotelrand assistant. All left with There was FniipTnT," hjs pockets. But Nicholas' Sabatini. chef in the last years of the place, is back in the kitchen, his bulging white h.H looking for all the world like an inflated mushroom. young women Today : fashionably-dresse- d drive-up- . ii..htHaiisincs-an- d Uxies ami' ;wcL.gir take their tea nnd puif their cigarets. Time was wherr tis man could smoke in a Delmonico's dining room. And no women akt a table without an csce well-line- d . . enough, the idea lingers that and many of the other gay spots, were expensive. The prices, when compared with those of today, were amazingly low. It was said that the order of a single portion of any dish provided sufficient for two. persons. And a huge steak could be bad for STRANGELY ut d ps r -- u:ttyrgTit.,4t..JU,..Crrv W,.ki MniinT.iiijn.Pj4J Once, upon a time there was an erratic and picturesque old sea captain by the name cf Ben Ben drove his ship in the fruit trade Wenberg. with the West Indies. Once he came ashore, he underwent a complete change of habit and He became the complete temperament. He was extremely meticulous in matters' of dress and in matters of food. Delmonico's, being then near the water, front. Captain Ben would make for it as soon as he clothes to his had changed from his g evening tiabilTTIe'Was the menus and the wine, and spent considerable of his time at sea concocting new dishes. kNE evening he rushed in. bubbling over with excitement He called for a chafing dish, some lobster and. peppers and sweet cream and a lot of other ingredients,- - and urged the attendance of chefs and assistant chefs. Soon half the kitchen staff was standing over his table, while he announced the discovery of ' $1.25., An 'average dish was priced at about '60 . cents, which todaywotrld "barely cover the cost-o- f toast and tea. If one cared to be extrava-- . gant, a special duck dish could be had at $2.50 or $3, but one could have staged a party for -. . " three on this."" wines, of course, varied in price with Even then it was less the vintage and age. than the imitation stuff to be found in the average speakeasy of today. But whatever the change in times and customs the name of Delmonico's will continue And to flash upon the eyes .of smart passers-bif the 400 happens to have become the 4000. smart folk and spenders will doubtless try to version of a lost aris- -. carry on a modern-da- y tocracy. y. |