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Mott
EATING, that mellow old Spanish pastime, occupies a large amount of the movie stars' time, even as it does that of us low and vulgar mortals. The inspiring spectacle of the great ones of the screen putting away their victuals is probably the most popular of all Hollywood's wonders among those denizens of the hinterland who come flocking westward.
The Hollywood restaurateur runs his establishment broadly on the principle that the more stars he attracts, the less trouble he need take over the food and service given to tourists, and the more he can charge them. Thus we get the peculiar situation of the worst food in town attracting the most people, who pay a great deal more for it than is charged for really good fare a few doors away.
One does not go to a cafe in Hollywood to eat; one goes to see, if one is a tourist; or to be seen, if one is a star. Whichever one may happen to be, this costs plenty of money and plenty of indigestion. However, as both classes consider it well worth it, let us not dwell on the point.
There are also, as with all well-regulated rules, exceptions. Notably the most estimable Cafe Grill of the Messrs. Musso and Frank, which happens to serve the
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Hollywood Restaurants
Grazing
By CEDRIC BELFRAGE
best food in town and also to attract a large patronage; a patronage made up of the last old-fashioned few who would rather have a perfectly done steak with Mr. and Mrs. Jones than a leathery one with Constance Talmadge. As a whole, the stars do not appreciate the excellence of the Musso-Frank cuisine, which is served in a modest setting that would not show them ofF to best advantage.
THEY FALTER ON FISH-DAY
ONLY on one evening of the week do a few famous faces of the celluloid loom up there: on Fridays, when the famous Marseilles fish stew, the odoriferous and succulent bouillabaisse, is always the specialty. The tang of this superb dish, making itself known for yards up and down the Boulevard, breaks down the resistance of a few celebrities, who decide, just for this once, not to worry about changing into their evening finery and to let King Stomach have his way. Edmund Lowe and Lilyan Tashman, Otto Mattiesen and Walter Byron are among the most ardent consumers of the Musso-Frank Friday bouillabaisse.
A few doors from here is the well-known Montmartre Cafe, which is entered up a flight of stairs from the street, and is a fairly large place with a dance floor and tables grouped around. This is the chief star-gazing joint in town. Its principal occasion of the week is Wednesday lunch, when all the stars out of a job appear in their Sunday best, hoping to remind some director of their existence; and others come in with make-up on during the midday studio recess, because their press agents tell them to do so. On Wednesdays the place is so full that it is a madhouse; on other days of the week, when there is
The formal and the informal in tropical motifs of interior decoration of institutions catering to interior content: at the top of the page, the Cocoanut Grove in the Hotel Ambassador; and, just above, the Zulu Hut. An outside view of the hotel appears at the right
Graham
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