French Provincial Towns 1 1 7 in the arcade is a restaurant only, or rather a res- taurant and a grill-room and bar, and is very smart, and not at all cheap. A story is told Giro’s, Galerie that an Englishman, new to Monte Charles In- Carlo and its ways, asked the liveried porter outside Ciro’s whether it was a cheap restaurant. “ Not exactly cheap,” said the Machiavelian servitor, “ but really very cheap for what you get here.” On a fine day grand duchesses and the haute cocotterie beseech Ciro to reserve tables for them on the balcony look- ing out on the sea, and unless you are a person of great importance or notoriety, or of infinite push, you will find yourself relegated to a place inside the restaurant. At dinner there is not so much com- petition. Ciro himself is a little Italian, who speaks broken English, and has a sense of humour which carries him over all difficulties. Every day brings some fresh story concerning the little man, and a typical one is his comforting assurance to some one who complained of an overcharge for butter. a Alla right,” said Ciro complacently, “ I take him off your bill and charge him to the Grand Duke. He not mind.” The joke is sometimes against Ciro, as when, anxious to have all possible luxuries for a great British personage who was going to dine at the restaurant, and knowing that plovers’ eggs are much esteemed in England, he obtained some of the eggs, boiled them, and served them hot. Ciro’s restaurant originally was where his bar now is ; but when the Cafe Riche, almost next door, was sold, he bought it, redecorated it, and transferred his restaurant to the new and more gorgeous premises, putting his brother Salvatore — who, poor fellow, has since died — in charge of the bar which he established in his old quarters. I cannot put my hand on the menu of any of the many break- fasts I have eaten at Ciro’s, so I borrow a typical menu from V. B.’s interesting little book, Ten Days 1 1 8 ^he Gourmet's Guide to Europe at Monte Carlo. He and three friends ate and drank this at dejeuner : — Hors d’ceuvre varies. (Eufs poches Grand Due. Mostelle a l’Anglaise. Volaille en Casserole a la Fermiere. Patisserie. Fromage. Cafe. i Magnum Carbonnieux 1891. Fine Champagne 1846. This feast cost 61 francs. The Mostelle, as I have previously mentioned, is the special fish of this part of the coast. It is as delicate as a whiting, and is split open, fried, and served with bread crumbs and an over-sufficiency of melted butter. Of course Ciro always provides something new each year for his customers to talk about. One year all Monte Carlo was surprised to find that a dried haddock, as cooked in the Galerie, was very delicious. Another year everybody at Ciro’s ate their caviare between two small very hot pancakes. In the winter 1907-8 a new silver grill dazzled the eyes of all his clients. The winter of 1910-11 has seen the promotion of M. Rizzi from the post of maitre d'hotel at the Hotel France to be Ciro’s partner. Ciro proposes to retire from business in three years time.

AI-modernized reading of the original text

French Provincial Towns 1 1 7 in the arcade is a restaurant only, or rather a restaurant and a grill-room and bar, and is very smart, and not at all cheap. A story is told Giro’s, Galerie that an Englishman, new to Monte Charles In- Carlo and its ways, asked the liveried porter outside Ciro’s whether it was a cheap restaurant. “ Not exactly cheap,” said the Machiavelian servitor, “ but really very cheap for what you get here.” On a fine day grand duchesses and the haute cocotterie beseech Ciro to reserve tables for them on the balcony looking out on the sea, and unless you are a person of great importance or notoriety, or of infinite push, you will find yourself relegated to a place inside the restaurant. At dinner there is not so much competition. Ciro himself is a little Italian, who speaks broken English, and has a sense of humour which carries him over all difficulties. Every day brings some fresh story concerning the little man, and a typical one is his comforting assurance to some one who complained of an overcharge for butter. a Alla right,” said Ciro complacently, “ I take him off your bill and charge him to the Grand Duke. He not mind.” The joke is sometimes against Ciro, as when, anxious to have all possible luxuries for a great British personage who was going to dine at the restaurant, and knowing that plovers’ eggs are much esteemed in England, he obtained some of the eggs, boiled them, and served them hot. Ciro’s restaurant originally was where his bar now is ; but when the Cafe Riche, almost next door, was sold, he bought it, redecorated it, and transferred his restaurant to the new and more gorgeous premises, putting his brother Salvatore — who, poor fellow, has since died — in charge of the bar which he established in his old quarters. I cannot put my hand on the menu of any of the many breakfasts I have eaten at Ciro’s, so I borrow a typical menu from V. B.’s interesting little book, Ten Days 1 1 8 ^he Gourmet's Guide to Europe at Monte Carlo. He and three friends ate and drank this at dejeuner : — Hors d’ceuvre varies. (Eufs poches Grand Due. Mostelle a l’Anglaise. Volaille en Casserole a la Fermiere. Patisserie. Fromage. Cafe. i Magnum Carbonnieux 1891. Fine Champagne 1846. This feast cost 61 francs. The Mostelle, as I have previously mentioned, is the special fish of this part of the coast. It is as delicate as a whiting, and is split open, fried, and served with bread crumbs and an over-sufficiency of melted butter. Of course Ciro always provides something new each year for his customers to talk about. One year all Monte Carlo was surprised to find that a dried haddock, as cooked in the Galerie, was very delicious. Another year everybody at Ciro’s ate their caviare between two small very hot pancakes. In the winter 1907-8 a new silver grill dazzled the eyes of all his clients. The winter of 1910-11 has seen the promotion of M. Rizzi from the post of maitre d'hotel at the Hotel France to be Ciro’s partner. Ciro proposes to retire from business in three years time.

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