The Class of 1888

West Point,
1884-1887

When the Class of 1888 graduated from the U.S. Military Academy in June of that year, there were so few cadets that the New York Daily Graphic could easily publish their portraits on a two-page spread.1 Five rare menus transport us back to West Point in the 1880s. In addition to providing a glimpse of the food customs, some of the menus convey a deeper meaning about the long cycle of mourning caused by a sudden death, adding a poignant dimension to these minor historic documents.

The Russians Are Coming!

New York City
1863

In the 1966 comedy The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming, a Soviet submarine accidentally runs aground near a small New England town during the Cold War, sparking fear and chaos throughout the community. However, when the Russian navy actually arrived in force a hundred years earlier, it was greeted with open arms. That naval call, presumably an act of friendship during the American Civil War, was orchestrated by the Russian government. In reality it was a ploy, feigning an alliance with the Northern states to discourage the European powers from intervening in the Polish Rebellion which the Russians were brutally crushing. Still, Russia’s ulterior motives were of little interest to those caught up in the struggle to preserve the Union, as shown by menus from lavish entertainments during their visit. 

Come Fly with Me

American Airlines
1946

Restaurant critic Bryan Miller once observed, “The quality of food is in inverse proportion to a dining room’s altitude, especially atop bank and hotel buildings (airplanes are an extreme example).” It is not as if the airlines never tried. In the years following the Second World War, American Airlines had famous restaurants cater the inaugural meals on its new transatlantic routes, as shown by a large menu from its first flight to Copenhagen and Stockholm on February 1, 1946.1

The Russian Revolution

St. Petersburg, Archangel & Vladivostok
1912-1918

One of the most intriguing aspects of ephemera is that it reminds us of long-forgotten events. A case in point is provided by three scarce menus from the time of the Russian Revolution. Interestingly, they were saved by people who found themselves on the losing side of the conflict—Russia’s ill-fated bourgeoisie; foreign intelligence officers;  and the United States Army sent to fight the “Red” Bolsheviks.

The Butter Wars

New York City, 

1880

When five members of a congressional subcommittee came to New York in April 1880 to inspect the new factory of the Commercial Manufacturing Company, the firm rolled out the red carpet, hosting a dinner at Delmonico’s in their honor.  Typical for a grand banquet of the Gilded Age, the menus for the occasion were printed on satin of various colors. What is unusual about the menu shown below is what it doesn’t say—golden blocks of margarine were placed on the table to accompany the meal. What is more, the low-cost butter substitute was even said to have been used to prepare these classic French dishes.

General Lewis Cass

Paris, 
1842

Eight counties, ten small cities, thirty townships, and numerous streets, schools, parks, and lakes are named after Lewis Cass. Born in New Hampshire in 1782, Cass had a long and distinguished political career at a time when many places in the country needed names. After serving as a brigadier general in the War of 1812, the rugged-looking statesman was appointed governor of the Michigan Territory. In 1831, he became the Secretary of War and was later sent to France as the American Minister, a post he retained for six years. Shortly before returning to the United States in November 1842, Cass was honored by the American expatriate community at a farewell dinner at Les Trois Frères Provençaux in Paris. 

Here They Come!

New York City, 

1904

The scene is still funny. Appearing in the Sunday comic section of the New York World in March 1899, the first cartoon in a series, it shows a prosperous miner from Montana named “Slagg Diggins” stepping off the ferry with his wife and daughter, ready to enter high society.1 The headline warns the city’s well-established aristocrats, popularly known as “The 400,” of the arrival of this newly-minted millionaire, much to the amusement of the city’s masses who were well aware of the societal shift then taking place.

Compliments of George Kessler

Washington, D.C. & New York City

1902

There was an intriguing story behind the menu that supposedly came from the state dinner in 1902, hosted by President Theodore Roosevelt for Prince Henry of Prussia. The biggest issue was its monotone blue cover, unlike the full-color menus seen at the dinner. Then there were two small advertising cards still tucked inside, one noting that the menu was provided compliments of George Kessler, the clever importer of Moët & Chandon Champagne, and the other touting his product’s popularity. The menu reveals a curious incident in presidential history, orchestrated by Kessler to promote his products. Known as the “Champagne King,” he led a colorful life, distinguished by high living, intermittent disasters, and a celebrated act of atonement, making his one of those uniquely American stories.

Ortolans

Washington, D.C. & New York City

1879

Ortolan is the French common name for a finch-like bunting that is a native of Europe and parts of Asia and Africa. Even though there are strict laws protecting these migratory birds, they are a great delicacy still being captured in nets in southwest France. Weighing less than an ounce, the tiny songbirds are first kept in a lightless box, prompting them to instinctively gorge on millet, grapes, and figs. Once the bird has quadrupled in size, becoming nothing more than a four-ounce lump of richly-flavored fat, it is drowned in Armagnac, plucked, roasted, and flambéed.

Café Martin

New York City
1901-1912

By the late 1890s, the neighborhood surrounding Madison Square Park had lost some of its luster. After being the center of New York’s social scene for twenty-five years, its leading hotels and restaurants began to close. Delmonico’s, which had moved there from Union Square in 1876, now relocated to Fifth Avenue and 44th Street. Despite this notable departure, Madison Square was still a stylish part of town, prompting Jean and Louis Martin to take over Delmonico’s lease on the 26th Street location, well-situated between Fifth Avenue and Broadway. The French-born brothers refurbished the old building, giving it the latest flourishes of Art Nouveau design, and renamed it the Café Martin.