When A. J. Liebling was twenty-two his father gave him the gift of a year of study at the Sorbonne. It was 1926 and, although the young man attended very few classes he learned things that stood him in good stead for the rest of his life. The Paris he discovered was the same city that Hemingway and Gertrude Stein fell in love with. "Perhaps more than anything else", he later reminisced "it was in Paris that I learned to eat".

In 1935 Liebling joined the staff of the New Yorker. Within a short time his "Wayward Press" columns became (and remain) models for fine journalistic writing. Whether he was writing about Rabelais, Hemingway or world boxing champion Mohammed Ali his language was idiomatic, ringing with precision, ease and richness of detail. His voice was unmistakenly that of a large, unkempt man who rummaged around in a huge bin of what might be called demi-classical references: literary, sporting and historic. And, in nearly everything he wrote, there was a reference to gastronomy.

Always surrounded by friends, good whiskey and an enormous amount of food and wine, Liebling was more a glutton than a gourmet. His excesses are forgivable because he lived and wrote with a mixture of wit and elegance that cannot help but enchant. He wrote, for example, of an unforgettable afternoon with his friend and mentor Yves Mirande "one of the last great gastronomes of France". In a small restaurant on the Rue Saint-Augustin the two astonished their French and American friends by dispatching a lunch of "raw Bayonne ham and fresh figs, a hot sausage baked in a pastry shell, several fillets of pike in a rich Nantua sauce, a leg of lamb with anchovy sauce, a half dozen artichokes served with goose liver and four kinds of cheese, all washed down with two good bottles of Bordeaux and one of Champagne". To the amazement even of the proprietor of the restaurant, as soon as the two men had finished their lunch, they immediately began to plan the menu for that evening's dinner.

On another occasion, dining at Chez Benoit, the pair started their dinner with a large trout served "with enough melted butter to raise the cholesterol count of an entire regiment of soldiers beyond belief". With the trout they drank a bottle of white wine from Alsace. This was followed by two meat courses, the first a roast beef smothered in steamed vegetables and the second a pair of quails in honey sauce served with fresh figs and asparagus. With the beef they had a bottle of Chateau Petrus and with the hens a Cheval Blanc. Mirande said that his doctor had told him to avoid Burgundy wines, and this shocked Liebling because he could not conceive of the fact that his friend had ever been to a doctor. They followed lunch with three bottles of Krug champagne, drinking toasts to the loves of their lives, their countries and the owner of the restaurant who had supplied them with the third bottle "on the house".

The restaurant on rue Saint-Augustin no longer exists but many of Liebling's favorite eating spots remain intact. Chez Benoit, at 20 rue Saint-Martin is a bit too popular with American and German tourists but the food is still excellent. Drouant still exists on the Place Gaillon, the Closerie de Lilas is still to be found at 171 blvd. du Montparnasse, and Laperousse, at 51 quai des Grands-Augustins continues to delight its regular clients. That most of these places have not even a single star in the Michelin Guide would please Liebling, for this was a book he held in particular disdain.


Quail in Honey Sauce with Fresh Figs
A recipe from Chez Benoit

12 small to medium quails
salt and pepper to taste
dried thyme, to taste
3 tablespoons butter
1 cup sweet white wine (ideally sherry or sauterne)
12 fresh figs
1 - 2 tablespoons honey
lemon juice as required
cornstarch as required

Sprinkle the birds inside and out with salt, pepper and thyme.

In a heavy skillet heat the butter and then saute the birds for a few minutes on each side. Transfer the birds to an oven that has been preheated to 200 degrees Celsius and let cook for about 15 minutes. (The birds should have a slight pink color). Transfer the birds to a preheated serving platter, cover and set aside to keep warm.

Pour off the excess fat from the skillet, add the wine and cook over a medium flame, stirring and scraping the bottom and sides of the skillet, for about 1 minute. Add the figs and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Season the sauce to taste with salt, pepper, honey and lemon juice. If the sauce is too thin mix a bit of cornstarch in some cold water and add it to the hot sauce. Correct the seasoning if necessary.

Serve by placing the figs around the birds on the serving platter and then strain the sauce over the birds. Serve at once. Serves 6.

© Daniel Rogov