e a lady in her summer
frocks to, but you get a fine fish dinner there nevertheless. There is
no restaurant in the world where _moules a la mariniere_ are served in
such perfection, and you can rely on every bit of fish supplied there
being fresh. The exterior is unattractive, even dirty, and the service
inside is somewhat rough. On Fridays the place is always crowded, and
there may be a difficulty about retaining a room upstairs, where it is
best to go when you wish to be specially well served. In the old days,
it was the fashion to go on Fridays (or on any day for a fish lunch) to
Le Sabot, a _restaurant-estaminet_ of the same order a little lower down
on the quay, which has a reputation for its manner of cooking mussels;
but, since the death of old Francois, who kept it, the place does not
appear to be so much in favour, and the tide of custom now flows towards
Justine's. It must be remembered that this house is mentioned simply as
a feature of Brussels life and not as a representative restaurant.
L'Etoile, in the Rue des Harengs, is the most famous restaurant in
Brussels. In the time of Louis Dot, it certainly held rank as the first
of all, both for cooking and for wine, and Emile Ollivier, Dot's
successor, is doing his best to sustain the reputation. Neatly framed
and hung on one of the walls is still to be seen the card signed by the
late Henry Pettitt, the dramatist, attesting to the fact that he had
just eaten the best lunch of his life. This card some years later was
countersigned by a Lord Mayor of London; and a Lord Mayor surely should
be a good judge of a lunch. Whatever place is visited in Brussels,
L'Etoile should not be missed. The stranger should be very careful to go
in at the right door. The wines at L'Etoile have always been good, and
Dot used to have some Burgundy that was world-renowned. His _fine
champagne_ was also famous, and he had some extra-special for which he
used to charge 4 francs 50 centimes a glass. I have heard Dot himself
tell the story how a well-known _restaurateur_ from London came one
evening with two friends to see how things were done at L'Etoile. After
dinner they sent for Dot, to compliment him and ask him to join them
with a liqueur, and he was to give them some of his best brandy. They
smacked their lips on tasting it, and the glasses were filled a second
time; but the gentleman who paid the bill rather raised his eyebrows
when he saw the item, "liqueurs, 36 francs." "He got
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