Thought for Food
Browsing in Brighton
By RAYMOND POSTGATE* IF a Londoner wishes to leave his city for enjoy- ment, his instinct is to go to the South Coast; and if he is particularly intent on enjoyment his particu- lar choice is likely to be Brighton. Brighton has had a rather raffish character from its earliest days; its top policemen have not al- ways been all you would wish, and the man who made its reputation was a sort of Royal swell-mobsman, George IV. Its Corporation has rescued, preserved, and put on show as a kind of symbol a large picture of really quite unusual indelicacy, representing the awakening of the spirit of Brighton by the Prince Regent. With engaging hypocrisy it has—or had when I last saw it—affixed a notice suggesting that its motive was merely sentimental patriotism, to show a specimen of the work of one 'Lieu- tenant R. Whistler,' who died in the invasion of Normandy.
Brighton's centre is architecturally and socially still a place of peculiar charm and character. All English seaside resorts are vulgar, but Brighton is not ruined by the inrush of vulgarity as the Cornish places have been. Brighton has always been rather vulgar itself; ice-cream parlours and fish and chip shops don't afflict it; it can absorb them.
It has, naturally, for many years been easier to drink well in Brighton than elsewhere. Long before other towns thought of it, you could drink table wines by the glass there. Everyone who remembers the war and post-war years is grateful to 'Tubby' Edlin for his bars, which continued to sell good drink cheaply long after other places were gypping you mercilessly. And `Jimmy's' too—last time I was there they were selling clairet, the unusual pink Bordeaux wine that is like a rosé without that sickly, teenage taste. The Henekey's I go to has a children's bar; the only other wine-house I can think of which is equally civilised is—or rather, alas, was—a * Raymond Postgate, editor of the Goo, Fed Guide, reports on restaurants and inns wilt* y (or may not, after further tests) appear • the a t edition. He cannot answer readers' , general informati9n recourse must lie ad to t current Guide (Cassell, 7s. 6d.). Free Vintner in Camden Town who has now closed down.
The quality of food offered in Brighton un- fortunately does not yet come up to the level we have a right to expect. There are only four entries in the Good Food Guide (English's for fish; Nanking for Chinese food; Taj Mahal for Indian; Pump Room for a cheap lunch and more adventurous dinner). But it is rising; there are half a dozen places that are very well worth visiting. These are not all new places, of course. Some have previously been entered in the Guide, and may shortly be restored. There are two in this last category which deserve mention: first, the Clarence Hotel in North Street and the Mascotte restaurant in Preston Street. They are sharply different in character. The Clarence is a well- kept hotel for well-kept businessmen, with a good standard menu such as a medium hotel should have but doesn't, and a good cold table of crabs and lobsters and chicken; it is not ex- pensive. The Mascotte is expensive, and it is Polonically temperamental, the chef and manager being apparently Poles. This is pro- bably why it is enthusiastically commended by several reporters and eloquently damned by one. Tournedos Mascotte, Bceuf Stroganoff, and Tarragon chicken are what it can do well and they run between 12s. 6d. and 15s.; most but not all wines are above £1 and it is closed on Mondays.
Pubs next: The Cricketers' Arms' is one of the oldest in Brighton, and is in Black Lion Street near the Lanes, the best part of Brighton. It is now doing a la carte various tender and juicy grills between 5s. 6d. and 7s. 6d., veg. and all included, properly cooked; the Watney beer is very good; there is a cheap lunch. There ought to be a great many more pubs like this; once upon a time there were. The `Abinger House' in the King's Road is an Edlin house, and conse- quently one feels benevolent towards it. It has a chef who does grills and fish well. The building is what is called Modern Regency, which has the same right to exist as Victorian Gothic, after all.
Monsters: I cannot take seriously the regiment of huge hotels; I think their culinary standards are set for bookmakers, conference delegates and whores, who are not usually eminent istronomes. (Perhaps that is unfair; bookies' steak and poussin Mitni-Trottin are both remark- able inventions.) Anyway, one monster, the Royal Albion, has been taken over by Ind Cooper who are working hard on it. The grill room is _the place to go. Individual places: Sheridan Tavern in West Street, whose decor would have made Sheridan ill, has a West End menu, West End prices, and West End cooking. The best things to order are Sole Sheridan or Steak Georgette, which has 3 mushroom, cream and burgundy sauce. The melancholy eyes of the diner-out are rejoiced byr reading on the menu that the mayonnaise served with cold dishes is always home-made. (By the way, if you must for some reason have preserved mayonnaise, take what is sold in Swedish tubes. One of the reasons for the revolting taste of the stuff in bottles is the effect of light on it.) On the way down to Brighton, if you are un" wise enough to go by car instead of train, trY, stopping at Gravetye Manor. This is a sort 01 country branch of the Gore Hotel at Kensing' ton and is a short way out of East. Grinstead. by Turner's Hill. It has the same very remarkable cellar, and a pretty good standard international menu. Sometimes, I hear, the organisation is not as good as it might be, and you may have occupy too much waiting time in admiring the Manor, which is in fact both beautiful and beautifully placed.
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