How were you meant to order off this kind of 19th century menu?

Sounds like the bastard child of a Waldorf salad and a standard French green salad, but considering the era, “French dressing” could mean either plain vinaigrette or ketchup-based dressing. One sounds not too bad; the other terrifying.

Unfortunately, it would appear that, between covid and the death of their founder, they’ve condensed their menu down to a slightly less unreasonable two pages.

https://www.shopsins.com/uploads/b/b99e4e50-6731-11ea-8922-151856471190/d7407260-f806-11ec-93df-07427a4c43d0.pdf

I don’t see what’s so hard to believe about this. Even today, you have restaurant styles like Greek Diners where people are just expected to know that certain items on the menu are traps, as memorialized in this SNL sketch:

Same with Chinese restaurants in more Chinese sophisticated parts of the country/world. Two Chinese restaurants next door to each other might have a 99% similar menu but you’re expected to just know that you go to the left one to get the great roast duck and steamed fish and the right one to get great sticky ribs and garlic eggplant.

They’re not traps in the sense of a cruel prank played on diners. If you order those items, you’ll still be served something edible albeit mediocre and not worth the price premium of the place. It’s just related to cultural signifiers of what is considered a “good” restaurant coupled with the realities of logistics of fresh food.

For general Western restaurants, large menus were a signifier of a “good” restaurant until Nouvelle Cuisine and then it inverted. For certain other styles like Greek Diners and Chinese, large menus are still signifiers of a “good” restaurant (albeit now changing). There’s nothing intrinsically good or bad about either approach, it’s just one puts more onus on the diner to be more educated.

But enough about the tacos at Jack in the Box. :grin:

Challenge accepted.

Let’s say I go with the consomme, celery with chutney, caviar (I will assume that toast points, creme fraiche, and other traditional accompaniments are included), softshell crabs, beef tournedos for my main, the Garcia salad, foie gras, sauteed potatoes, strawberries and cream, and a service of Roquefort, Stilton, and Gorgonzola (because I absolutely love bleu cheese). Assuming these are small-ish portions, that seems like a meal that one could consume over the course of a few hours on a special occasion if I’d had a light breakfast and lunch.

That brings me to $8.30. I don’t know what their wine/spirits list looked like, but I could probably knock back two or three Old Fashioneds (which were known by that name at the time) to bring the total close to $10, and, if it was customary to tip at that point, a generous tip by modern standards would comprise $2 or so more.

And per this calculator, I’ve now spent the equivalent of about $420 on my meal, which isn’t too far off from what one might spend for a meal at one of Salt Bae’s restaurants today (though you can definitely also spend much much more, as Ranhofer had never in his wildest dreams imagined wrapping meats in edible gold and marking it up thousandfold for the purpose of conspicuous consumption).

I was recently reading Google reviews of a pancake house type restaurant. One person left the lowest 1 star rating complaining about how his steak was overcooked and awful. Like, how good could a steak at a breakfast place that closes at 2pm ever be?

Great menu! I had to look up fresser. It’s German-English-Yiddish for big eater or glutton. Anyway, I’ll order the sturgeon club sandwich.

And if find yourself at the roast duck place, because reasons (don’t know better, have friends who want to be there, whatever) and you order the sticky ribs because you really have a hankering for ribs, you’ll be fine. They won’t be great ribs, but they’ll probably be okay, and probably scratch that itch to have ribs.

I like large menus. If I want something excellent, I ask the waiter or a regular diner there what’s good. If I really want a tongue sandwich, well, I’ll order that, because it’s hard to get any tongue sandwich, and I like to take advantage of opportunities.

George Costanza’s take, 25 years before the SNL sketch:

Hey, look at that. They got lobster on the menu. Who would order a lobster here? I mean, do they bring a lobster in every day hoping today’s the day?

86 replies to this OP, and no one stated the obvious:

“I’ll have the lot.”

Shit! It’s Mr. Creosote!

Cheesecake Factory!

I didn’t see after-dinner mints on that menu

I hope they’re wafer-thin.

You can’t see them. They’re sideways and [french accent]wafer thin.[/french accent]

Good enough that the restaurant decided to put it on their menu and accept reviews of it. Not the reviewer’s fault the restaurant chose poorly.

Not just a variety of different birds. According to the menu, they serve four different species of duck; ruddy duck, canvas-back duck, red-head duck, and mallard duck. Plus a separate item labelled duckling.

Do whatever you can to find a British show called “Lords and Ladles,” wherein three chefs visit stately old homes and castles and prepare period dishes with modern ingredients but keep the old school sourcing and cooking methods. It’s fascinating–the way it works, the three chefs draw lots at the beginning of each episode, one is the main chef, one is the procurer of ingredients and one is the liaison with the family and guests who explains each dish as it comes out. The job of the procurer gets very odd sometimes, they might have to go fishing or pick out a pig to be slaughtered. It’s an amazing show, not too many episodes but every one is masterful.

I used to have (maybe still have somewhere) the menus from the S. S. Lurline that my mom and grandma took to Hawaii back in 1964. They were beautiful, on heavy cream paper, with watercolored Hawaiian scenes. Can’t remember any of the food.

ETA: Life with Father (play and movie) had talk of going to Delmonico’s. Father was outraged at the expense, but cousin Cora wanted to go. And Clarence wanted to show off for Elizabeth Taylor.

If the steak was that bad, he should have just ordered all the bacon and eggs.

Good thing he didn’t mention the dirty knife! :grin:

Americans order “appetizers,” which the British call “starters,” although both use the latter as a figure of speech:

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“Well, for starters, you can take your foot off my air hose.”