Algernon Bastard

The Savoy—The Epaule de Mouton—The Faille DÉchirÉe—The Lion d'Or—The Regina—The Helder—The Filet de Sole—Wiltcher's—Justine's—The Etoile—The Belveder—The CafÉ Riche—Duranton's—The Laiterie—Miscellaneous.

Brussels must have been a gayer city than the Brussels of to-day when it earned the title of "a little Paris." There is at the present time very little indeed of Paris about the Belgian capital, and, in the matter of restaurants, there is a marked contrast between the two cities. Here the latter-day Lucullus will have to seek in queer nooks and out-of-the-way corners to discover the best kitchens and the cellars where the wines are of the finest crÛs. The aristocracy of Belgium mostly dines en famille and the restaurants that cater for the middle classes are the most patronised. There are, however, several establishments which provide for more refined tastes, but they will not be found upon the big boulevards or the main thoroughfares. Four of the best restaurants in Brussels are in two narrow little streets, and their exteriors resemble old-fashioned London coffee-houses, rather than resorts of fashion. Brussels is particularly destitute of smart rooms where one can sup in gay company "after the opera is over." Until the Savoy was opened, we had, in fact, nothing beyond the ordinary restaurant with its little cabinets particuliers. When Mr. Arthur Collins of Drury Lane was in Brussels about a couple of years ago, he asked me to take him one evening, after leaving the Scala, to the local Romano's. "We haven't such a place," I explained, "but we can go to the Helder." "I dined there this evening," said A.C., "it was a very good dinner, but deadly dull; show me something livelier." We resolved to try the Filet de Sole thinking, as it was close to the Palais d'EtÉ, we were certain to meet some people there, but the place was empty. The fact is, Brussels has little night-life beyond the taverns and bars of low character, and the only high-class supper-room is the Savoy. If a stranger came to pass a week in Brussels, and wanted to be shown round the restaurants, I should start him with lunch at the Savoy on Monday morning, and finish him off with supper at the Savoy on the following Sunday night, for he would then be sure of beginning and ending well. The grill is excellent, and by no means dear. 1 franc 75 centimes is charged for a chop or steak, including pommes de terre well served. The hors-d'oeuvre are a speciality at luncheon. There is great variety, and the pickled shrimps would tickle the most jaded appetite.

On Monday night I should send my friend to dinner at the Epaule de Mouton.

On Tuesday, I should say, "Lunch at the Faille DÉchirÉe and dine at the Lion d'Or."

On Wednesday, "Lunch at the RÉgina and dine at the Helder."

On Thursday, "Lunch at the Filet de Sole and dine at Wiltcher's."

On Friday, "Lunch at Justine's and dine at L'Etoile."

On Saturday, "Lunch at the Belveder and dine at the CafÉ Riche."

On Sunday, "Lunch at Duranton's, and, if it is summer time, dine at the Laiterie."

He will then have sampled all the restaurants in Brussels that are worth troubling about, and will be very unlucky if he has not alighted upon some dish worth remembering.

The Savoy is situated in the Rue de l'EvÊque, by the side of the General Post Office. It was originally a kind of offshoot from the American bar and grill-room of the Grand Hotel. Being done in good spirit and with good taste, it soon acquired favour, and at certain times in the day the premises are almost too small. There are private dining-rooms upstairs, and a restaurant on the first floor has lately been added. Everything is À la carte. The cafÉ extra, for which 75 centimes is charged, is a speciality. The manager is M.A. Reynier who speaks English like an Englishman.

The Epaule de Mouton is in the Rue des Harengs, one of the little streets already alluded to, which run from the Grand Place to the Rue MarchÉ aux Herbes. In this street, which is barely five yards wide, are some of the best restaurants of the town; but the stranger must be particular and not enter the wrong door, as they are all huddled together, and the names of some of the establishments are very similar. There is, for instance, a Gigot de Mouton next door to the Epaule de Mouton, and there is a Filet de Boeuf. It is at the Epaule, however, where the best cuisine will be found. Behind the door on entering a snug corner for a tÊte-À-tÊte is to be found. Although the title of the establishment suggests Simpson's and a cut off the joint, the cuisine will be found thoroughly French, and everything is well and tastefully done. In ordering, it must be remembered that one plat is enough for two persons, and this is the rule in most Belgian restaurants. The Burgundy at L'Epaule de Mouton is renowned.

La Faille DÉchirÉe is at a corner of another little street, the Rue Chair et Pain, close by the Rue des Harengs. The construction and decoration are quaint; one sits in a kind of tunnel and eats Homard À l'AmÉricaine which is a speciality of the house. Woodcock, when in season, is also a dish to be ordered here.

Le Lion d'Or is a small establishment in the Rue GrÉtry, and may safely be called the "chic" restaurant of Brussels. The salon downstairs is a perfect little bonbonniÈre, and the rooms above are extremely cosy and comfy. The proprietor is Adolph Letellier (of course called simply "Adolph" by habituÉs of the house), and he is extremely popular among the young sports of the town. The vrai gourmet will appreciate les plats les plus raffinÉs on which Adolph prides himself. Everything is À la carte, prices being plainly marked. They are not cheap. The restaurant and rooms upstairs are open till two in the morning.

The RÉgina is a new restaurant at the top of the town, near the Porte de Namur. Although only opened in 1901, it has been found necessary to enlarge the premises, and the alterations are in progress at the moment of writing. When completed, the restaurant on the first floor will be more commodious and comfortable than it is at present. It is the good kitchen that has made the reputation of the place, and if this is maintained, the RÉgina will become one of the best patronised restaurants in Brussels. Some people prefer to feed in the cafÉ on the ground-floor but it is best to go upstairs, and, if possible, to obtain a table on the glass-covered balcony in the front, which has a pleasant outlook on the boulevards. The proprietor is Jules; he may have a surname but no one seems to know what it is; to one and all he is "Jules," a capital patron who, having been a waiter himself, knows how to look after the personal tastes of his customers. These include the officers of the grenadiers, the crack Belgian regiment, whose barracks are close by, judges and barristers from the Palais de Justice, members of the King's household (the royal palace being nearly opposite), actors from the MoliÈre Theatre, sportsmen who foregather here on race-days, and the better-class Bohemians. Jules has also a good English clientÈle, and makes a speciality of certain English dishes. This is the only place on the Continent I know which serves a really well-made Irish stew. The Flemish dishes are also safe to try here. The prices are very moderate, and the plats du jour range from 1 franc to 1 franc 75 centimes, each plat being enough for two persons. Breakfast dishes, such as Œufs GratinÉs aux Crevettes and Œufs BrouillÉs au foie de Volaille, are also well done here. Ecrevisses RÉgina is a special dish of the house. There are always two special plats du soir. The MÉdoc de la Maison at 3 francs the bottle is a La Rose and is very good. Although the prices are low, there is nothing of the cheap and nasty order about the place. I have before me the bill of a little lunch for two served in December, which can be taken as a fair specimen of the fare and the charges:—

At the same time, if one likes to lunch off a plat du jour, with a glass of Gruber's beer, it can easily be done at the Regina for less than 5 francs for two persons.

The Helder is in the Rue de l'Ecuyer, near the Opera House. It is a smart restaurant and one dines well there. It is frequented by a good class of people, but it has no particular character of its own. The proprietor is M. Dominique Courtade, formerly a chef, and he should be personally consulted if a special dinner is wanted. The Pontet Canet (only to be had in half bottles) should be sampled; it is very fine.

The Filet de Sole is in the neighbourhood of the markets and close by the Palais d'EtÉ. The proprietor is Emile Beaud. An excellent lunch can be obtained here at a fixed price, and one can also eat À la carte. Prices are lower than at most of the first-class restaurants, but the cuisine and wines are both safe and sound. The Cantenac at 4 francs is to be specially recommended, and the MÉdoc de la Maison at about 2 francs is also good. There are private rooms upstairs.

Wiltcher's, on the Boulevard de Waterloo, provides the best and cheapest table-d'hÔte in Brussels. The price is only 3 francs, and is wonderful value for the money. The following is the menu of a dinner in January:—

ConsommÉ À la Reine.
Filet de Sole À la Normande.
Quartier d'Agneau.
Mint Sauce À l'Anglaise.
Epinards À la CrÈme.
Poularde de Bruxelles en Cocotte.
Croquettes de Pommes de Terre.
Gangas du Japon À la Broche.
Compote de Mirabelles.
Salade de Laitue.
Glace Arlequin.
Biscuits de Reims.
CafÉ.In old Mr. Wiltcher's time a good many people came from outside for the excellent food here provided, but now so many families reside all the year round in the hotel, that it is difficult to get a table for dinner when it is not ordered beforehand. No matter what time of the year it is, there is always poultry and game on Wiltcher's carte, and one sometimes meets a strange bird here. Gangas is a Japanese partridge. The birds migrate to Northern Africa in winter and often cross to Spain, where they are caught in large numbers. The plumage of the gangas is very beautiful and the flesh is excellent eating. The outarde, or little bustard, is often to be had at Wiltcher's, and it is the only place at which I have eaten the great bustard, whose flesh is very much like a turkey's. White pheasant is another bird I remember here. Excepting in its plumage, it in no way differs from the ordinary pheasant. A feature of Wiltcher's dinner is that no fruit is ever included in the menu, although coffee is always served. The story goes that Wiltcher the First, who took great pride in his table, found it during one winter time almost impossible to give anything else as dessert beyond apples, oranges, pears, and nuts, there being no other fruit on the market. One day some diners rudely complained, and insisted on a change, expecting perhaps that pineapple should be included in a dinner at this price. "You wish a change in the dessert, I hear," said Mr. Wiltcher, in the suave and courtly manner which had earned for him the sobriquet of "the Duke"; "Very well, to-morrow you shall have a change." To-morrow, there was no dessert upon the menu. When the reason for this was demanded, he simply answered, "You wanted a change, and you've got it. I shall give no fruit in future." This has become a tradition. Notwithstanding, it is a remarkable dinner, and there is usually a good variety of sweets. As a tip to people who want to drink champagne and are sometimes deterred by the high prices demanded for well-known brands, while being always suspicious of the sugary tisanes supplied on the Continent, I may mention that the champagne wines bearing Mr. Wiltcher's own name and labelled according to taste as Dry Royal and Grand CrÉmant respectively, are specially bottled for his establishment at Rheims; and, though the price is little more than half that charged for les grandes marques, they will be found pure, wholesome, and to the English and American taste. Wiltcher's is rapidly becoming essentially an American house.

Justine's is a little fish restaurant on the Quai au Bois À BrÛler, by the side of the fish market. It has distinctly a bourgeois character. It is not the sort of place you would choose to take a lady in her summer frocks to, but you get a fine fish dinner there nevertheless. There is no restaurant in the world where moules À la mariniÈre are served in such perfection, and you can rely on every bit of fish supplied there being fresh. The exterior is unattractive, even dirty, and the service inside is somewhat rough. On Fridays the place is always crowded, and there may be a difficulty about retaining a room upstairs, where it is best to go when you wish to be specially well served. In the old days, it was the fashion to go on Fridays (or on any day for a fish lunch) to Le Sabot, a restaurant-estaminet of the same order a little lower down on the quay, which has a reputation for its manner of cooking mussels; but, since the death of old FranÇois, who kept it, the place does not appear to be so much in favour, and the tide of custom now flows towards Justine's. It must be remembered that this house is mentioned simply as a feature of Brussels life and not as a representative restaurant.

L'Etoile, in the Rue des Harengs, is the most famous restaurant in Brussels. In the time of Louis Dot, it certainly held rank as the first of all, both for cooking and for wine, and Emile Ollivier, Dot's successor, is doing his best to sustain the reputation. Neatly framed and hung on one of the walls is still to be seen the card signed by the late Henry Pettitt, the dramatist, attesting to the fact that he had just eaten the best lunch of his life. This card some years later was countersigned by a Lord Mayor of London; and a Lord Mayor surely should be a good judge of a lunch. Whatever place is visited in Brussels, L'Etoile should not be missed. The stranger should be very careful to go in at the right door. The wines at L'Etoile have always been good, and Dot used to have some Burgundy that was world-renowned. His fine champagne was also famous, and he had some extra-special for which he used to charge 4 francs 50 centimes a glass. I have heard Dot himself tell the story how a well-known restaurateur from London came one evening with two friends to see how things were done at L'Etoile. After dinner they sent for Dot, to compliment him and ask him to join them with a liqueur, and he was to give them some of his best brandy. They smacked their lips on tasting it, and the glasses were filled a second time; but the gentleman who paid the bill rather raised his eyebrows when he saw the item, "liqueurs, 36 francs." "He got even with me, however," said Dot, "for when I went to London I returned his visit. I had a good dinner (not so good, I think, as I should have served), and I sent for him to join me with the coffee. While we chatted, I ordered cigars, repeating his words, 'Give us some of your very best.' He did, and he charged me 7s. 6d. a piece for them." The rooms at L'Etoile are very small, and if any one wants to prove the establishment at its best, he should take the precaution of retaining a table and ordering dinner beforehand.

Le Belveder is in the Rue Chair et Pain; it has lately been opened by Jules Letellier, ex-maÎtre-d'hÔtel of the Filet de Sole and brother to Adolph Letellier of the Lion d'Or. Here the restaurant is À la carte, and a speciality is made of fish and game. Things are well done, and it is a safe place to "take on."

The CafÉ Riche is opposite the Helder, and nearer to the Opera House. It was founded in 1865 by Gautier, the nephew of Bignon of Paris, who retains the proprietorship and management until the present time. It has always had an aristocratic clientÈle, and is specially favoured by Parisians visiting Brussels. During the political troubles in France the Duc d'OrlÉans, Prince Victor NapolÉon, and Henri Rochefort were all patrons of the CafÉ Riche, and it required all the tact and savoir faire of the proprietor to keep apart and at the same time give satisfaction and pleasure to the conflicting parties. The CafÉ Riche is one of the best places in Brussels for a banquet or a large dinner-party. Woodcock and snipe À la Riche are specialities. Although the prices are generally À la carte, one can have a lunch and dinner at fixed price by ordering beforehand.

Duranton's, on the Avenue Louise, is now "run" by Monsieur Pierre Strobbe, who took a first prize at the Brussels cookery exhibition. The restaurant is pleasantly situated, and on Sunday, if you wish to go to the races in the afternoon, it is very convenient, being on the direct route to Boitsfort. There are three rooms on the ground floor, in which you can lunch. That on the right, a small narrow room under the orders of Charles, from the Black Forest, is the smartest. He will introduce you to some special Kirsch—from the Black Forest. The cooking in all the rooms is the same, and it is good. Order your cab to be at the door half an hour before the first race.

The Laiterie is in the Bois de la Cambre. In summer time it is indeed the most pleasant place to dine in Brussels. In the Bois there are several places that supply lunches, dinners, and light refreshments, but the Laiterie is the only one that is really first class. For seventeen years it has been under the management of M. Artus and his son. The establishment is the property of the town of Brussels, and is well kept up in every respect. Here on a Sunday as many as 1500 chairs and 400 tables are often occupied. In the evenings the gardens are brilliantly illuminated, there being 1100 gas lamps. Music is discoursed by a Tzigane orchestra, and the late Queen of the Belgians, who often used to stop her pony chaise at the Laiterie to hear them play, subscribed from her private purse 200 francs every year to these musicians. Dinners are served at separate tables, under Japanese umbrellas, and the cooking is excellent; but it is as well to secure a seat as near to the main building as possible, to overcome that objection to al-fresco meals—cold dishes. The wines are good, and M. Artus has some fine Ayala—'93, in magnums—unless it is all drunk by now. There must be something about the cellars of these out-door places peculiarly favourable to beer, for no pale ale in the world can compare with that drawn at the bars of the Epsom grand-stand, and in Belgium there is no bottled Bass so fresh and palatable as that which one gets at the Laiterie.

If my friend were staying in Brussels longer than a week, the other restaurants to which I might take him would be the Taverne Royale, at the corner of the Galeries Saint Hubert, where some real 1865 cognac can be had at 75 centimes the glass; the FrÈres ProvenÇaux, in the Rue Royale; the Restaurant de la Monnaie (a large place, generally noisy, with not the most rapid of service); Stielen's, in the Rue de l'EvÊque; and the Taverne Restaurant des Eleveurs on the Avenue de la Toison d'Or. At the Taverne de Londres, in the Rue de l'Ecuyer, there is always a fine cut of cold roast beef with English pickles.

On Wednesdays all the Brussels restaurants are crowded, it being Bourse day, and in a wide sense "market" day, when over 5000 strangers, mostly men, come into the city from provincial towns. In conclusion, I may mention that I have failed to discover the restaurant where George Osborne gave his "great dinner" to the Bareacres a few days before the battle of Waterloo. Thackeray records that as they came away from the feast, Lord Bareacres asked to see the bill, and "pronounced it a d—— bad dinner and d—— dear!" Probably the place, therefore, is extinct; for happily the double pronouncement can nowadays be seldom applied to any of the restaurants mentioned in this chapter.

H.L.