Rare and Piquant Dishes of Historic Interest Copyrighted by N·M·Kaufman 1914 Dining Room — Grimrod de la Reyniere Capital T he epicure says we live to eat; the ascetic maintains we eat to live. Perchance there is a grain of truth in the French maxim that we eat to live only when we do not understand how to live to eat. However that may be, those of us who are wise in our generation are content with the golden mean between these widely variant schools. The dishes herein set forth are a few of the

Capital R ussia has contributed many original dishes to the cuisine of the world, but perhaps the greatest alimentary gift of all for which we are indebted to the land of the tsars is Beluga Caviar with Blinis. The blinis, which take the place of the French toast canape, are a Russian adaptation or version of American wheatcakes except that they are not sweetened. When the blinis are done to a rich golden brown they are brought to the table piping hot and the caviar, taken from a jar sunk in ice

Capital R ussia is justly famed as the land of hors d' oeuvres—delightful whets that clear the palate. But none of these delicacies are more tempting to the epicure than Tomato Volga. That chef—his name unhappily is not known—who bestowed this culinary gift upon the elect is worthy of our deepest gratitude. Only in the land of the Volga is the worth of such gastronomic artists rightly appraised. Endowed with perfect technique, clear palates and inexhaustible patience, chefs there are considered

Capital S ince the day when good King Henri Quatre vowed that every peasant of France should have a fowl in his pot every Sunday, this delightful soup has been named in his honor. Waving away the exquisite bouillons, lordly consommes and rich bisques set before him, it was Henri's wont to call for poule au pot. And as he smacked the royal lips he swore that every subject in his realm should have the happiness of tasting this kingly dish. Poule au pot is served to patrons of the Congress just as

Capital S ince the days of Kublai Khan, the Great, whose Tartar hordes swept over China centuries ago, swallows nest soup has been a luxury to grace the table of epicures and kings. The exquisite taste of this typical Oriental delicacy so delighted the palates of the Tartar kings, says tradition, that tidings of it were carried back to Europe by traders and wanderers. So in time the news reached Paris and Chinese swallows nests soon were brought from the far East—priceless luxuries for the delec

Capital I ts fragrant aroma, its sweet spiciness and its unmatched sauce in which mussels and other denizens of the deep have been brewed to a wondrous flavor have won for Bouillabaise the appellation: "The Dish of Kings." In the stirring days just before the Third Empire of France it wooed the palates of famous bon vivants who thronged the cafes of Paris—among them William Makepeace Thackeray. And beef-fed Briton that he was—upon being initiated into the delightful mysteries of Bouillabaise, Th

Capital T he delectable savour of oysters delighted the palates of epicures as far back as the time of Apicius—the celebrated Roman gourmet who moved his palace to the seashore in order to have fresh shellfish for his table. When Apicius discovered how to keep oysters alive during long journeys he narrowly escaped being deified. But the bivalves which he knew were tiny dwarfs—like our clams. How he would have been transported at the sight of a dozen luscious Sadde Rochs or Malpecques. And for a

Capital B y originating this dish, an obscure restaurant keeper of Paris achieved a place among the immortals of cookery. The high relief of piquant sauce which sole requires, M. Marguery supplied in a flavoring with little mussels in it. So delightfully did it enhance the dish that a distinguished company of bon vivants who happened into the humble Marguery restaurant one night pronounced it a triumph. The next day M. Marguery awoke to find himself and his sole famous. He soon was on the road t

Capital R ossini, a contemporary and friend of Dumas and Balzac—two famous fourchettes—was not only a distinguished composer, but also a cook of ability. This dish of his invention bears witness of his skill and rivals in seductiveness the sweet strains of "The Barber of Seville." Dumas once complained to Rossini that he had tasted everything eatable and sighed, like Alexander, for new culinary worlds to conquer. Whereupon the musician promised the great romancist that his palate should enjoy a

Capital S almi is perhaps the finest preparation of game which historic cookery has bequeathed to us. Like other masterpieces of art, it has never been improved upon. The wonderful sauce brings out the delightful woodland flavor in which the partridge excels—as all sportsmen who love to tramp afield when the woods are covered with a shroud of autumn frost can attest. In the Congress kitchen this delectable native of the cover is prepared according to the original recipe given to Grimrod de la Re

Capital T he saddle of venison for centuries has been the symbol of civic luxury in England and is held in highest esteem by epicures. An offspring of wild Nature—fed upon its sweet fruits and vegetation, it exhales the very essence of the forest. In addition venison possesses the admirable virtue of calling forth the rare flavor of port, Bordeaux or Burgundy. A choice cut from the ruddy flesh of the roebuck—that monarch of the north woods—is skillfully prepared for the oven by the Congress chef

Capital I t is to the friars of Portugal that we are indebted for this famous contribution to the world's store of cookery. When the French troops sacked a Portuguese monastery during the Peninsular war the cook was forced to flee from his sanctorium, leaving behind his precious book of recettes. This the invaders seized, with other spoil, and carried back to Paris. Here, the culinary grammar fell into the hands of a noted chef, who, one day happened upon the recette for Poularde de Portugal, a

Capital T hose whose happiness it is to enjoy this dish at the Congress may well be devoutly grateful to the intrepid chef of Napoleon who created it amid the roar of guns on one of the great battlefields of history. On the eve of the battle, when the skirmish guns had already begun to boom, the emperor called for his favorite dish—chicken fried in butter. As it happened, the butter could not be found in the confusion, and Napoleon's "Minister of the Interior" was at his wit's end. Then, inspire

Capital G ive the artisan a piece of clay and he mixes it with straw. The result—a brick. Give the same clay to an artist—he kneads his genius into it and produces a work of art. So it is with an egg. Whether it is to be merely a hodge podge of proteins, fats and solids or a dainty fit for the table of an epicure depends upon whether it has the good fortune to fall into the hands of such a genius as graces the kitchen of the Congress. In preparing this dish, he breaks the eggs from the shell and

Capital A tender offering from Nature's cuisine delightfully designed to promote digestive harmony and to bridge the gap between the entree and the demitasse. For this dish earth yields such choice treasures as fresh truffles, artichokes, asparagus and celery—all laid in a crisp green basket of lettuce, while over all is spread the golden halo of mayonnaise. Ah, could you but peek at the Congress artiste de cuisine as he prepares this masterpiece! See him as he skillfully blends the ingredients

Capital T his is one of the most exquisite delicacies which French chefs de cuisine, in their never ceasing search for gastronomic treasures, have bestowed upon those who abhor the commonplace. Though the Congress chef might regard it as profanation, not to say heresy, crepes suzette may aptly be termed "pancakes de luxe." By the magic touch of the artist, the plain Anglo-Saxon pancake is transformed into the daintiest, most toothsome morsel for the delectation of discriminating palates. While t

Capital T his dish is happily christened in honor of the inventor of the balloon, as the story of its origin attests. A dining car chef one day was frying potatoes in deep fat just as the train rolled into a station. As it happened the chef was a dual personality—master of the sauce pans and porter, all in one. So he took the half-cooked potatoes out of the hot lard, donned his porter's uniform, seized the ever-ready whiskbroom and darted into the chair car. When he returned the potatoes were pu

Capital T his delightful entremet—a special forte of the Congress chef—fulfills to perfection the mission of the dessert, which is to comfort the stomach by delicate reflex flattery through the palate. It is a refreshing wave of gastronomic coolness, giving pleasure to the taste without the cloying sense of fullness. Let those whose fortune it is to know the charms of this dainty pay silent tribute to that French chef to whom the world is indebted for the delights of creamy sweets. The cream is

Capital A s you journey toward Chicago the Management of this Home of a Thousand Perfectly Appointed Homes is thinking with you. Your approach to the Congress Hotel and Annex in Michigan Avenue, the world renowned Boulevard on the beautiful West Shore of Lake Michigan, responds at once to your ideal of location for quiet rest and pure air. Yet within easy walking distance you find yourself in the heart of Chicago's great Business, Shopping and Theater Center. Your first glance at the Congress Ho