In certain things, again, it must be remembered that the Parisian market is inferior to the markets of almost any town in England. The English visitor generally speaks disparagingly of the French oyster, for instance, doubtless because he is not accustomed to its flavor, and yet I know many connoisseurs who have travelled and dined in many lands who maintain that of all oysters the green Marennes (_Marennes vertes_) are the most delicate and delicious. The lovers of comparisons will ask what equivalents the French have for real turtle-soup, ox-tail, mulligatawny, and pea-soup with a sprinkling of dried mint and sippets. Is it their _bisque_ or _purée_ of crayfish, their _consommé de volaille_, their _Saint Germain_, or green pea-soup, their _Parmentier_, or thick potato-soup? But the traveller does not go to Paris to eat the food of his native land, but rather to enjoy the particular food of the country. Therefore, he must not expect to get fine salmon, or cod-fish, or turbot, or even mackerel in Paris. The city is too far away from the sea to have good salt-water fish. Salmon in Paris is dry and of poor flavor; fresh cod-fish is rarely seen, and the habits of the restaurants render it impossible to eat such salmon and turbot as there is in favorable conditions. In a London restaurant a whole salmon or a whole turbot is served hot like the joints; in a Paris restaurant, if you order boiled salmon or turbot, the cook cuts a slice off a parboiled fish, puts the slice in the pot, and boils it up for you. The result is unsatisfactory. As a rule, I should say, in a Parisian restaurant eat your salmon and your turbot cold, and prefer to both a red mullet (_rouget_), a sole, a trout, or some fresh-water fish. A carefully prepared _matelotte d’anguilles_, which is not precisely the same as stewed eels, and _friture de Seine_, which need not be compared to whitebait, are both dishes not unworthy of the attention of the epicure.
The French are poor roasters; the roast beef and roast mutton in their restaurants cannot for a moment be compared with the joints at Simpson’s or Blanchard’s in London. Pies and puddings also are unknown to the French, with the exception of _pâtés de foie gras_ and game pies. The French, again, eat their game very fresh and less cooked than the English. Generally, I think that the raw material of the Parisian restaurant cuisine is inferior to that of English restaurants; on the other hand, with the limitations referred to above, particularly as regards roasting, the preparation of the dishes is superior, and in the first-class restaurants unique. In the preparation and variety of vegetables the French lead the world; in the fabrication of sauces they are unsurpassed; in the serving and arrangement of a dinner they leave little to be desired.