ting from 1799, with its court and
stairway so full of mysterious suggestion, and its misty
paregoric-flavored beverage, containing opalescent dreams? Shall we not
go to Sazerac's for a cocktail, or to Ramos' for one of those delectable
gin-fizzes suggesting an Olympian soda-fountain drink? Are we to ignore
all these wonders of the city?

Yes, for it is time to go to luncheon at Antoine's!

CHAPTER LIX

ANTOINE'S AND MARDI GRAS

Antoine's is to me one of the four or five most satisfactory restaurants
in the United States,--two of the others being the Louisiane and
Galatoire's. But one has one's slight preferences in these things; and
just as I have a feeling that the cuisine of the Hotel St. Regis in New
York surpasses, just a little bit, that of any other eating place in the
city, I have a feeling about Antoine's in New Orleans. This is not,
perhaps, with me, altogether a culinary matter, for whereas I remember
delightful meals at the Louisiane and Galatoire's--meals which, indeed,
could hardly be surpassed--I lived for a week at Antoine's, and felt at
home there, and became peculiarly attached to the quaint, rambling old
restaurant, up stairs and down.

Antoine's has never been "fixed up." The cafe makes one think of such
old Parisian restaurants as the Boeuf a la Mode, or the Tour d'Argent.
Far from being a showy place, it is utterly simple in its decorations
and equipment, but if there is in this country a restaurant more French
than Antoine's, I do not know where that restaurant is.

Antoine Alciatore, founder of the establishment, departed nearly forty
years ago to the realms to which great chefs are ultimately taken.
Coming from France as a young man he established himself in a small cafe
opposite the slave market, where he proceeded to cook and let his
cooking speak for him. His dinde a la Talleyrand soon made him famous,
and he prospered, moving before long to the present building. His sons,
Jules and Fernand, were sent to Paris to learn at headquarters the best
traditions of the haute cuisine, doing service as apprentices in such
establishments as the Maison d'Or and Brabant's. Jules is now proprietor
of Antoine's, while Fernand is master of the Louisiane.

The two brothers are of somewhat different type. Fernand is, above all,
a chef; I have never seen him outside his own kitchen. His son, Fernand
Jr., superintends the front part of the Louisiane, which he has
transformed into a place having t