San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1924-03-02


row cluttered streets of Soho.
well, we'll get some real food at
Barberi's,' brisked Warren. "Great
character. Used to have a book
store"
"A book store? And he gave that
up TO run a restaurant"
More. money. Says people have
TO eat-don't have to buy books.
Here, no time for that" dragging her
past an old curio shop with an allur-
ing window of antique jewelry marked
Choice, Ten Shillings."
Through Wardour, Compton and
into Firth. These old-world streets
now trespassed by ultra-modern tea
rooms with their garish yellow cur
tains and green-and-red fronts.
"Isola Bella. That's the place"
"Oh, is that Barberi's: I've read
Of that-it's quite famous"
The room they entered was long,
low. aglow With color from the
shaded table lights and the riotous,
futuristic paneled walls.
Here, they are!" Warren strobe
10 corner table, where the Crumers
awaited them.
You must be tired" sympathized
Mrs. Crumer, when Helen took the
seat beside her. IL know how it is
the day before you sail. Are you
all packed?"
Here's Barberi," broke in DIR.
runner, as the stout genial italian
approached. "What're you going 70
give us tonight? Something special?"
"Ah. we will see. We will see. J"
His twinkling eyes beamed on them.
well, III leave it to you. Bar
berj. You fix us up. Mr.. and Mrs.
Curtis sail in the morning, so do
your best. And don't forget that
Mascarpone cheese"
mo. no, that you shall have. We
made fresh tod" as he hurried off.
Evening dress?" Helen glanced
about. Then this isn't Bohemian
placer"
"Oh, yes. but everybody comes
here. That distinguished looking
mans Escoffer, the famous chef. You
know his Escoffer sauce? At that
table back of him they're all play.
wrights. And there's Sir John and
Lady Parker" ;.
My private stock-my compli-
ments," Barberi now came. up with
a bottle from which he filled some
glasses. white Yarmouth. Finest
in Italy"
Great. Never heard of white ver-
mouth" Warren held his glass to the
light. swish we'd known about 1t
in Milan a few weeks ago."
"Ah. you in Milano?" Barberi was
all excitement. "My daughter, she
prime donna in Milano. / get you
her picture"
"Dippy about his daughter. But
she can sing-made hit at the
Scala. Good, starting us off with
antipast,' as the waiter brought the
assorted relishes.
"what's that? I can't have a
chop" came the irate voice Of an
Englishman back of them. I'll see
your proprietor about that"
"Sorry, sir, but this is an Italian
restaurant. Here comes Mr.. Bar
beri. He will tell you we never serve
chop-only italian specialties.'
YES, that is right" shrugged Bar
beri. approaching with the photo
graphs. "A thousand places in Lon
don where you get chop-but no
chop here! My daughter, in Mar
guerite,' handing the photographs to
Helen.
aOh. she's lovely" examining the
delicate oval face.
"Ah, but her voice, Madame! You
should hear her sing. Like a bird
You no read ITALIAN" producing some
press tributes to the youthful prima
How about that 1877 Dente?"
asked the doctor. Don't forget
want to see it,
"Ab. not now. Maybe after din
ner. Maybe then We go upstairs.
Hes a real book-lover." as Bar
beri was called away. always pick
ing up some rare items-and often
he won't sell them"
@You collect early printing, don't
"Yes. Incunebula. Got some nice
things from Barberi. He really
knows"
"Tagliatelli! Certainly in luck to-
night" Warren hailed the flat egg
noodles smothered in chicken liver
sauce.
Even better than at Milan was
Helen's verdict on her favorite dish.
After this, came breast of chicken
rolled in bread crumbs and Drowned
in olive oil. Helen, ,loathing anything
fried. tasted it obviously, but founc
il delicious.
You like it," Barberi drew up
chair. "My wife make special for
YOU"
That's Mrs. Barberi," Mrs. Crum--
or nodded to a youthful woman, at
the desk.
"Shc see every dish that comes up.
If it not Just So" gestured BarberL
"she send back to kitchen"
Right on the job" approved War
rem. "And your food shows II"
"Ah. but it very hard. Ten years
now she sit at that desk-she too
much tired Maybe we sell and go
live in Milano."
No. no." pleaded Mrs. CruESr.
The doctor would be lost when we
come to London, il he couldn't dine
here-and buy a few old books.
Then you come TO Milano. You
dine at our home" Hospitality. "No
more restaurant. Maybe manage my
daughter with a bow, as he was
called away.
"Zabajone glowed Helen, when
the dessert was served. How did
Mr.. Barberi know the Italian dishes
like most?"
But later. when a plate with four
small cheese cloth bags was placed
before them. Helen was mystified.
Now here's something you've never
had" boosted DIR. Crumer, spooning