Paramount Pep-O-Grams (1927)

P E P-O-G RAMS Page Nine A GASTRONOMIC TOUR OF EUROPE By One Who Knows His Calories — Sammy Cohen Europe can be traversed, explored, bisected and analysed for lots of very good reasons (ive even know a man who visited every country to learn what wasps did during the second week of November) ; but when Sammy Cohen set out to go from hither to yon, he was inspired by the interests of posters, pies, ’planes and pajamas — as all who read the following sparkling description of a tour will readily find out. Sammy sure makes of Europe a mighty alluring place, and ive are glad for your sakes to note that his d.cscriptiveness is such that it will run on from issue to issue. The following is the first installment. I once heard Mr. Kent say that when a man gets religion he wonders why everybody else doesn't go to church. Listen to the average tourist who returns from a jaunt thru the hinterland and provinces of Europe and you discover that he (and more often she) is filled with something of that same holy zeal. “Europe,” they gurgle beatifically, “is glorious, marvelous, wonderful — so artistic, so cultural, so broadening.” And so on, ad infinitum. And, time and distance lend enchantment. The further away they get in months and miles the more enthusiastic they grow. If, at times, you detect a note of bitterness in my writing, forget it! If I wax sarcastic, forget that, too! Eut if I go into a paean of praise and rave like the mother of a first-born, it may be that I’m thinking of the apple strudel I ate in Vienna, a certain moonlight night in Venice, or the Ice Grotto in Switzerland. I started out from Berlin on September first, happy in the knowledge that I had a few weeks ahead of me with nothing to do except have a good time as I travelled from one interesting city to another. But before I reached Vienna, my first stop, I learned that I was violating one of the unwritten by-laws of the Tourists Union. I lacked “a serious purpose”! No one, it seemed, set out to tour Europe nowadays just for fun. Every one had a motive. This man was out to study postwar conditions. That woman intended to investigate the slums in Italy. Even the 18-year-old flapper announced soberly that she had come over with the sole intention of doing medical research! Because we stopped at the same hotels, I had an opportunity later on to check up on my companions. But it would probably be bringing the sarcastic touch in to tell of this checking up. It would have been easy for me to say that I was making a survey of the motion picture field. But past experience has You will note that Sammy still knows how to smile. taught me that the minute you identify yourself with the film industry, you must be prepared for a barrage of more or less foolish questions. A sudden flash of inspiration finally solved my problem. So that by the time I arrived in Vienna, I was able to remark with a bland smile that I was making a gastronomic tour of Europe. This usually provoked the comment, “Oh, you’re in the restaurant business.” To which I replied, truthfully enough, “Well, not exactly, but I am interested in food.” There are veteran tourists who shake their heads sadly when you mention Vienna. “The old town ain’t what she used to be,” they aver. I don't know about that. I found the city gay, friendly, hospitable; the people carefree and lighthearted; and the cooking is the best in the world. They know their groceries all right! My mouth still waters every time I think of the “natur schnitzel" I ate there, and as for their "mehlspeisen” — well, if you have to watch your calories, stay away from Vienna! To he sure, there’s a good deal of unemployment and the natives haven’t very much money. But watch t’hem in the cafes as they drink the freshly made wine and sing the joyous Viennese melodies and you realize that there’s no incentive for them to make a lot of money. They wouldn’t enjoy life any more. I had my first homesick moment here. It was while I was visiting the “Prater,” the Luna Park of Vienna, and incidentally, the largest amusement place in Europe. As I turned a corner and my eye lighted on a certain building, I had to pinch myself to he) sure that I wasn’t back in little old New York. An automat! An honest-togoodness, drop in-a-coin and get-a-meal automat! I’m still up in the air over my airplane trip from Vienna to Venice. A memorable adventure, but somewhat disappointing from the standpoint of thrills. In fact I’ve gotten more excitement out of a ride on a Coney Island shoot-the-chutes. But perhaps it’s just as well that nothing did happen. It’s embarrassing to drop in on people (Continued on next page)