You dine at the Brussels. You may be tempted to linger too long in the chic surroundings of the cocktail lounge, but don’t let the call of the bar spoil your delight in what is to follow. Be firm—decide on your menu, choose your wines while you are sipping your apéritif, and be ready and anticipatory when you are bidden to your first course. If you are a large party, it is my advice to see M. Pagani well in advance and let him help in your selection of luncheon or dinner. He will plan something which is well in your stride and which will be gratifying to the palate. Or consult with him or Léon or Edmond when you arrive and have your dinner order placed while you chat and enjoy a bit of relaxation.
It is always wise to remember that it is difficult to serve a large group a variety of different entrees, for some take a long time and some a short time to prepare. So be guided by the advice of the patron as to the best possible construction of the menu.
Not long ago, I was part of a party who wanted to lunch quietly and well, interlacing good food and wine with conversation. Pagani caught our mood and asked if he could suggest our menu. We were more than willing to abide by his choices. The first course—oh happy thought—was an omelette, light and delicate as air and cooked to the correct degree—baveuse is the word. Mushrooms sautéed in butter to which cream was added were fairly oozing onto the platter with the masterpiece. This was substantial enough to appease the pangs of hunger and light enough to excite the taste buds in anticipation of the dish to follow.
The major achievement was pheasant flown from Belgium. That awesome and practical traveling stove which is a unique prop of the Brussels was wheeled to our table and the two or three burners set aflame. The pheasants were brought along steaming hot and perfectly browned and placed on the larger burner to keep hot and to continue cooking on their voyage from the kitchen to our table. In the meantime, the deft hands of Pagani set about preparing the sauce on another burner. Butter, juices of the pan, cream, mushrooms, cognac, and seasonings were all added at the proper moment, accompanied by a running commentary on the procedure. Soon the sauce was at its peak. The birds were carved—a lesson for anyone interested in performances with knife and fork—and arranged on a sizzling hot platter. The sauce was poured over, and the birds were served, sauce drenching them. A bit of braised celery to give piquance to the combination of flavors, and we were off on a most delightful taste experience. We picked the bones and devoured every mouthful of the birds. This magnificently satisfying dish was set awash by a bottle of Côte Rôtie 1934, a truly distinguished and great red wine from the Rhône valley. Rhônes are too little appreciated in this country, for they are among the most interesting wines of France.
Pinterest
