HUNGRY GERALD

1966. Spring. Following Paris, HG/BSK (and enchanting two-year-old Lesley) were off to London. First order of business was a trip to Carnaby Street, then the mod fashion center for swinging London. Lesley was outfitted with striped bell bottoms, a safari jacket and other cutting edge duds. The little fashionista dazzled. Had some of the wonderful experiences London has to offer. (In 1966, London was very English, affordable and not the theme park for oligarchs which it now resembles). Shopped for silverware on Portobello Road. (“It’ll shine up something lovely, Ducks.”). Art at the Tate and National Gallery. Walks in Hyde Park. Window shopping on Bond Street. Strolling the beautiful squares and admiring the stately architecture of Belgravia and Mayfair. Roast beef at Simpson’s on the Strand. Oysters, smoked salmon and Dover sole at Wheeler’s. Afternoon tea at Brown’s (the excellent sweet things much enjoyed by Lesley). A too brief visit. Many more visits during the next 49 years. Stayed at the Wilbraham Hotel off Sloane Square (For years it was HG/BSK’s shabby, comfy, genteel retreat. Refurbished, it is now now super posh.) Rented many pleasant apartments and had great luncheons at the best French restaurant in the world (which happened to be in London): The Connaught Restaurant in The Connaught Hotel. London theater was always a treat. Joyous memories of after theater dining at Rule’s (for port and welsh rarebit); J. Sheekey, (oysters and Dover Sole); the glamorous, art deco Savoy Grill (smoked salmon and mixed grill). We’ll be back to London again even though it will put a dent in the HG/BSK credit cards.

In the early 1970’s, HG assisted the management of New York’s posh Hotel Pierre in solving a sticky public relations problem. The Pierre was part of the Forte international hotel group. This meant HG/BSK got a special rate when they stayed at Forte’s Brown’s Hotel in the Mayfair neighborhood of London. Brown’s was quiet and genteel. The rooms had no television or other of today’s electronic necessities. Furniture was vaguely art deco. Bathrooms were spacious with large tubs and powerful hot water showers. Comfy beds and sweet smelling sheets. The hotel’s chintz bedecked English Tea room was famous throughout London. HG/BSK breakfasted in their room. Poached eggs. Grilled tomatoes. Wheat toast. Marmalade. Pots of very good tea. Then off to a day of museums, galleries, shops and London architecture. Back to Brown’s for tea at four o’clock. Cucumber and watercress sandwiches. Scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. Fruit cake. And, of course, superb freshly brewed tea. A brief rest and shower. Off to the theater. (The dollar and pound were in an attractive equilibrium in those days making London affordable). Apres theater HG/BSK dined at the glamorous Savoy Grill. Perfect smoked salmon sliced paper thin. Mixed grill with soufflé potatoes. Their other choice was venerable Rule’s for smoked salmon, Welsh rarebit and vintage Port. At some point, Brown’s got a big time “luxury” modernization. Prices went up and the rooms lost some of their charm. HG/BSK switched to the Wilbraham Hotel near Sloane Square. Eccentric, shabby, genteel, comfortable. HG/BSK eliminated high cal afternoon tea and lunched at such wonderful venues as the Hotel Connaught Restaurant (certainly in its time the best and most beautiful restaurant in the world) and J. Sheekey’s, the seafood restaurant in the theater district. HG’s spot for lunch on a grey, rainy or chilly London day was The Gay Hussar on Greek Street in Soho. A cozy rectangular room bedecked with books, mirrors and political caricatures, The Gay Hussar is the favorite dining venue for Britain’s Labor Party and left wing journalists. While the Labor Party dignitaries may attack the rich in Parliament, they do not disdain rich food. The Hungarian food at The Gay Hussar is decidedly rich, flavorful and hearty. The Wilbraham Hotel allowed HG/BSK to stock their refrigerator with ham, roast beef, chutney and salads from a nearby delicatessen (“By Special Appointment to the Queen Mother”). Thus, HG/BSK had their after theater feast in their room. Drank very good French wines. Yes, those were perfect London days and nights. Can’t be repeated. London is not the same. The unique English flavor of the city has diminished and money crazed internationalism rules.

Best restaurant in the world was the restaurant in London’s Connaught Hotel (it was right up there with Le Pavillion under the reign of Henri Soule).

HG gathers that the cuisine at the Connaught has changed but HG likes to think about it during its glory days. HG and BSK always lunched there during visits to London. Superb smoked salmon sliced paper thin and served with brown bread, butter, capers, etc. (HG once remarked on the perfect slicing. A captain explained: “James has been slicing salmon here for 37 years”). A mixed grill with souffle potatoes or perfectly de-boned, grilled dover sole with savory butter sauce. Stilton and port to finish.

Once, the HG/BSK table wasn’t ready as per their reservation. HG and BSK were ushered into a lovely chintz and old oak ante room. With graceful apologies we were offered glasses of chilled, dry sherry (on the house, of course).

Another London favorite was J. Sheekey, the seafood restaurant in the theater district. More casual than the Connaught and the perfect place for oysters and grilled fish. Once, a waitperson spilled a drink at the HG/BSK table. The wet table cloth was whisked away and replaced by a new one. Once more, graceful apologies ensued and (with a flourish) a bottle of very good, gratis champagne appeared. Nice memories of English grace and generosity.