It took nine tailors (1948)

20 IT TOOK NINE TAILORS grownups. After that came hors d'oeuvres, wine, laughter, and a veritable barrage of talk, in a mixture of French and English. Then came soup, made from pot-au-feu, and for a time the talking was augmented by smacking of lips and exclamations of gastronomic pleasure. When the soup had been dispatched, everyone settled back for a period of relaxation with a glass of wine, more laughter, and still more conversation. After that the beef from the pot-au-feu was brought to the table and served with red wine and more smacking of lips. By the time roast chicken and white wine appeared, at least an hour or two had elapsed and the men were beginning to loosen their waistcoats. The chicken was followed in leisurely succession by watercress salad, cheese with apples, coffee, dessert, and champagne. During the course of the meal Father usually inquired about Henry's and my deportment for the past week and asked how our schoolwork and music lessons were progressing. Before the guests Mother and Grand'mere could only perjure themselves with high praise for our conduct and accomplishments. These Sunday breakfasts seemed interminably long to Henry and me, but they were usually enlivened by the stories Father would recount about happenings at the restaurant. He was a good storyteller, and on these occasions he would forget his usual dignity and mimic his customers and waiters with exaggerated expressions and gestures. His narratives never failed to bring roars of laughter from his family and guests, which must have been very gratifying to him, because he was an actor at heart. Some of the stories he told us at those Sunday feasts I have never forgotten. There was one about Mr. Albert R. Davis, a wealthy Clevelander who was a regular customer at the Bismarck Restaurant. It seemed that Mr. Davis was especially fond of onion soup au gratin, which was one of the specialties of the restaurant. At lunch or dinner he almost invariably ordered onion soup.