I asked M. Meschini if he would be so kind as to give me the _recette_ for the _filets de sole Pagani_, and here it is just as he wrote it down for me.
The sole is first of all filleted, and with the bones, some mussels, and a little white wine, a _fumée de poisson_ is made in which the fillets of the sole are then cooked.
The cook takes this _cuisson_, and by adding some well-chopped fresh mushrooms, makes with that what he calls a _réduction_; to this he adds some _velouté_, little cream, fresh butter, some lemon juice, pepper and salt, and cooks the whole together till well mixed, then passes it _à l'étamine_. With this the sauce is made. The cooked fillets of sole and eight or ten mussels are then placed ready on a silver dish, and the above made sauce poured over them. The top is well sprinkled with fresh Parmesan cheese, and after allowing them to _gratiner_ for a minute or two, are ready to be put on the customer's table.
The Princess was passing through town, and wrote that she would graciously deign to dine with me.
The responsibility of giving dinner to a Princess, even though she be not a British Princess, but the bearer of an Italian title, is no light one. Claridge's, "the home of kings," occurred to me at once as the right restaurant at which to entertain Her Highness, for the new and stately hotel that has sprung up in Brook Street has a quiet grandeur that is in keeping with its old nickname.
The Claridge's of the past was a comfortable hotel with convenient suites, but its outside was as philistine as any doctor's house in the street. Now the towering red-brick structure, with its granite columns, looks like a veritable palace. The proprietor in old days was very much in evidence. He felt the responsibility of having Royalty under his roof, and was always waiting in the hall to make his bow. So keenly did he appreciate his proud position that once, when an enterprising artist took a room at Claridge's, so as to be able to observe a Royal personage who was going to be gently caricatured in a weekly paper, he being made aware that the crime of _lèse-majesté_ was being committed, politely but firmly insisted on the artist taking his portmanteau and paint-brushes elsewhere. Royalty might be caricatured, but it should never be said that the crime was committed at Claridge's. Nowadays Claridge's is in the hands of a company, and though, no doubt, M. Mengay, the manager, is present to make his bow when Royalty arrives, he would not dream of expelling an inquisitive artist; indeed, all the caricaturists in Europe would be welcome if they had the wherewithal to pay their bills, for Royalty in the new Claridge's is given a separate house, and so is effectually shielded from prying eyes.