The gourmet's guide to Europe

Voisin’s has, amongst the specialties of the house, its own particular soup and its fillets of sole. The Poularde Voisin is a most admirable bird, and its chaud- froids and the terrines of foie gras are world-famous. If the maitre d'hotel looks upon you with eyes of favour you will be presented by him with a little pink card folded in two on which is the menu of a dinner given at Voisin’s on Christmas Day 1870, on the ninety-ninth day of the siege, and you will note that though Con- somme d* Elephant, Le Chameau roti a T anglaise (I won- der whether this was a sly joke at perfidious Albion), and Le Chat flanque de Rats are prominent dishes, the wines are Mouton Rothschild 1846, Romanee Conti 1858, Grand Porto 1827, and other great wines of great years. If the Anglais and Voisin’s may be said to have much of their interest in their “ past,” Paillard’s should be taken as a restaurant which Paillard is the parent of the present up-to-date 38 Boulevard restaurant. The white restaurant on des Italiens the Boulevard des Italiens has sent out more culinary missionaries to improve the taste of dining man than any other establishment in Paris. Joseph, who brought the Marivaux to such a high pitch of fame, came from Paillard’s, and so did Frederic of the Tour d’Argent. Henri of the Gaillon, Notta, Charles of Foyot’s — all were trained at Paillard’s. The restaurant has its history, and its long list of great patrons. Le Desir de Roi , which generally appears in the menu of any important dinner at Paillard’s, and which has foie gras and, I fancy, the u trails ” of woodcock and snipe as its principal com- ponents, has been eaten by a score of kings at one time or another, his gracious Majesty the late King Edward heading the list. The restaurant at first was contained in one small room. Then the shop of Isabelle, the Jockey Club flower girl, which was next door, was 14 T^he Gourmets Guide to Europe acquired, and lastly another little shop was taken in, the entrance changed from the front to its present position at the side, the accountant’s desk put out of sight, and the little musicians’ gallery built. M. Paillard has pleased the ladies amongst his customers by giving them music with their dinner. He also gives them music, too much music, with their supper. Paillard’s has now a supper clientele of the most unblemished respectability. The great classic restaurants resemble Napoleon’s Old Guard in that they die but do not surrender. The Maison Doree went to its end like a hero, refusing to bow to vitiated modern tastes. M. Paillard, however, prefers that his restaurant should not die, and if the modern ladies who sup like to see Spanish dancers gyrate while they eat their chicken, and are prepared to go up to Montmartre to see them, M. Paillard, being a gallant man, will save the ladies the journey to the northern heights by allowing dancers in his restaurant on the boulevards. All this savours of the modern smart restaurant, and I feel a doubt whether Paillard’s should not be now classed amongst the “ smart ” instead of the “ classic ” restaurants.