San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-11-22
The Married Life of
Helen and Warren (.
BY MABEL HERBERT URNER-
Pressed Duck 7S,8O9

hRic on bOit, mlst-DlurreO
I night! The rain had mirroret
the pavements and vanished the
lamp-lit trees.
With hazardous speed their taxi
skidded over cleaning streets.
Along the Quais-that ancient
haunt of browsing collectors. The
old book stalls, now closed and
shadowy.
Look, how mysterious! :" Helen
peered down black cleft of topping
houses. "Dear, after dinner could
MT we wander around here? These
old winding streets-Td love it,,
"Not with this roll" Warren felt
his pocket. Tough neighborhood. ("
yet Frederic's is along here.
thought it was an expensive restaur-
anti"
Guess they soak You enough. But
neighborhoods don't count in Paris.
Everybody comes to Frederic's for
the pressed duck"
"Dear, we don't have to order
whole one?" apprehensiyely.
only way they serve it. Even II
you're nlone-you cough up for a
whole bird. Here we are!"
They had swung up before
quaint, low-browed corner house.
Its modest exterior refuted by the
uniformed attendant at the door.
The "Tour d. Argent. Made ia
nous by Frederic's supreme pressed
duck.
Through the dark wood hallway,
and they entered one of several
small, low dining rooms, character
istic of the older French restaurants.
Time mellowed paintings paneled
the walls. Crimson damask draped
the windows, and strip of brass
bound carpet aisled the floor.
Quietly unpretentious the place
exuded the atmosphere of an old
world restaurant, proud of its tradi-
tons.
Only one row Of tables along the
walls, the room was dominated by
the three center serving tables.
On each a silver press, presided
over by a portly waiter.
The duck presses The time-hon-
ored specially of the establishment,
What will you have before the
duck. monsieur" from the head
waiter, who had seated them. mel
on? And the Sole Bertron?v
No melon,' snapped Warren at
this high-handed implication that
.duck would be ordered. Lets see
your menu!"
Certainly, monsieur haughtily
turning away, leaving subordinate
to take the order.
ORDERS BURGUNDRY.
Only one menu was brought
French restaurants catering only to
the man. So Helen, consumed with
anxiety as to prices, could see only
the back Of the impressive card,
while Warren ordered with reckless
prodigality.
"Guess well want a Burgundry
with that duck expansively, tax
ing up the leather-bound wine list.
"This 1856, monsieur. is the one
We recommend with the duck"
Dear, Burgundy's so heavy-a
half bottle will be plenty" restrain
cd Helen.
"No half bottles Of that year,
madame" was the crushing retort.
.r.-Ia11
way, and some Evain," scowling
Helen TO silence.
warren. WHY did you order
all that? Soup and fish--with
whole duck !"
snow. don't start on that-you
can't come to a place like this and
order just one thing. Here, don't
miss this show-worth seeingw
HELEN COMPLAINS.
Interest was now centered on one
Of the presses. into which a dis
membered duck was being placed.
What's that they're putting inn"
as two silver bowls were emptied
over it.
"The sauces-now salt and pep
per. Dear. what a ceremony they
make Of it !"
That's their big act! Trust a
Frenchman to play it up.
The Supreme of Bisque, Warren
had ordered, proved a thick lus-
cious soup with croutons-a meal
in itself.
"Oh. this's much too rich before
that duck" dismayed Helen.
mot for me! Feel like stokin'
up tonight. You short-rationed me
on the steamer-now no dieting in
Parisi"
"Dear, look, two American wo-
men-alone ~
"Why not? II they're over here
detached-can't hire a man to tote
'em round"
THAT'S where I'm so fortunate,"
glowed Helen. "It's wonderful al
ways having you You're such
Travelled. cosmopolitan air-you-"
where's the salt?" sduelching
her illusions. Two pepper grind
ers but no salt. By George, this
ones salt Rock salt-grind it
yourself. That's a new number"
Their dusty cobwebed bottle, in
its wicker basket. was now rever-
entially served by the blaek-aproned
wine man.
THE CRAYFIsH TAILS.
'That's old Burgundy, all right"
Warren sampled it.
"But there's no label on the bot
tle," suspiciously. ut might be
anything"
"Not herel Like TO go through
their cellars-they've all the wine
from the old Cafe Anglais. What's
the year of this-'s6 wasn't it,"
A small serving-stand with sill
ver-domed platter was now rolled