“Very well, sir. Should you wish to make any changes in the menu, just call me. Meanwhile, I need a few cubes of bullion for the soup so I shall walk Samson at the same time.”
“Great, thanks, Matt.”
Matt took the leash off of the hook on the back of the door and Samson ran to him knowing that a trip outside was going to happen. Bill picked up the menu and read it with arched eyebrows. Wow! When Matt does something, it’s significant! This is fantastic.
Titanic's First Class Dinner Menu
As served on the Titanic April 14th, 1912
First Course ~ Hors d'Oeuvre
Canapes a l'Amiral
Oysters a la Russe
Second Course ~ Soups
Consomme Olga
Cream of Barley Soup
Third Course ~ Fish
Poached Salmon With Mousseline Sauce
Fourth Course ~ 1st Entree
Filet Mignons Lili
Chicken Lyonnaise
Vegetable Marrow Farci
Fifth Course ~ 2nd Entree
Lamb With Mint Sauce
Calvados~Glazed Roast Duck with Applesauce
Roast Sirloin of Beef Forestiere
Chateau Potatoes
Minted Green Pea Timbales
Creamed Carrots
Sixth Course ~ Punch
Punch Romaine
Seventh Course ~ Roast
Roast Squab & Wilted Cress
Eighth Course ~ Salad
Asparagus Salad with Champagne Saffron Vinaigrette
Ninth Course ~ Cold Dish
Pate de Foie Gras
Tenth Course ~ Sweets
Waldorf Pudding
Peaches in Chartreuse Jelly
Chocolate Painted Eclairs with French Vanilla Cream
Eleventh Course ~ Dessert
Assorted Fresh Fruits and Cheeses
After Dinner
Coffee, Cigars, Port
Bill opened his laptop to the site, ‘The 1800 Club Members.’ He lit a cigar and, as he always did whenever there was a mission, went through the members until he found someone with the right attributes for that mission. He didn’t have to go through it twice as he stopped scrolling down at Kal Kurop.
Kal joined the club six months ago and fit in nicely. He dressed as a gamekeeper of a castle owned by a prince in Germany. Bill knew that the corduroy jacket with leather elbow patches he wears was the same type of jacket that his great-great-grandfather wore when it was he who kept poachers from hunting on the castle grounds back in 1890. Both he and his great-great-grandfather wore their tan jodhpurs tucked into the top of their high black leather boots as well as a hunting knife. He stood tall at six-feet three inches and carried his 210 pounds well. He carried his forage cap folded over his jacket’s belt and his long black hair was tightly pulled back in a ponytail. He had a narrow face and pointed chin and his hairline was V-shaped with his widow’s peak. His skin had the shiny pallor of someone that spent all their time in the deep woods, out of the sunlight. Bill heard one of the female club members say that when he smiles his black eyes seem to sparkle.
He is the closest we come to having a person from that area and would feel at ease in the forests, Bill thought as he closed the laptop. I might have to pull an old faithful tonight to get him interested in another area of the club.
The wind blew hard against the tall windows and a fire in the club’s huge fireplace roared throwing out not only heat but beautiful colors of red, yellow and white that reflected off the highly polished wood floors, mirrors, and all of the brass works. Bill did a rare pre-meeting walk-through and was pleased with all he saw. The long dining table was covered with an antique, hand embroidered, white filet lace with open lace-work tablecloth and set in front of each guest’s place was an antique French Saxon, 22kt gold dinnerware set with a dogwood pattern. The Wallace Gold Antique Baroque 24kt plated flatware 5-piece setting stood out sharply on top of the fine tablecloth as did the Lenox stemware and pouring pitchers. When lit, the glow of the candles set in the three antique white candelabras, which were evenly spaced down the center of the table, glinted off all of the dinnerware. Next to each setting was an embroidered floral white linen napkin with scalloped edging.
Bill took a quick peek at himself in the window that imitated a mirror because of the darkness outside. He wore a gray three-piece suit with fine black pinstripes and short tails that showed the gray silk lining. He fixed his black cravat to be centered on his heavily starched white shirt collar and held it in place with a silver stickpin. Bill’s vest was a gray, three-button one that was short enough for all to see the black cummerbund he wore around his waist. His gray and black pinstriped pants just touched the tops of his Italian featherweight dress shoes. He finished his outfit off with gray spats with black buttons and in his lapel he wore a blue Pansy with a center of red, white and yellow coloring.
Matt entered the large room with a stack of newspapers whose finish was of a slightly yellowed color that mimicked the newspapers of the 1800s. In his other hand, he carried two boxes of Cuban cigars. “You are down early, sir. Is everything to your satisfaction?” he asked as he placed the newspapers and cigars on small tables strategically placed around the great room.
“Yes, Matt, all’s well. I just got dressed faster than usual. Tonight is going to be a treat for the members.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said brushing off the compliment. Six members have arrived and are changing into their club clothing as we speak. They should be up shortly.”
Bill went back upstairs to his apartment, Better that I let them get together and speak among themselves rather than having them feel that they should join me. I’ll wait a bit until more of the club members join them.
Thirty minutes later Bill went down the stairs and at the entrance to the great room, took a newspaper and a cigar then entered the now full room. As usual there were groups of members standing around talking together and Bill could hear snippets of their conversations as he lit his cigar. Matt seemed to appear out of nowhere with his silver tray full of wine glasses and a bottle of red and another of white wine.
“Wine, sir?” he asked.
“Ah. Yes, Matt, red please. Tell me, have you seen John Brand or Rocko Perna this evening?”
“Yes,” he answered as he casually faced another direction, “Both are standing by the second window.”
“Ah, yes,” said Bill as he looked around, “Thank you, Matt, I think I’ll join them.” Matt smiled and walked towards a group of members standing by the fireplace.
“Mister President, a moment, please?” the voice came from behind him and Bill turned to see Fran Whitling, a short, thin woman dressed as a nurse. Bill remembered that her great-great-grandmother ran a field hospital that took care of the southern soldiers who needed help. Her red hair flowed down from beneath her starched, white nurse’s cap and ended on her shoulders.
“Good evening, Nurse Whitling. I’m glad that you made tonight’s meeting as the menu is special.”
“As am I, dear sir, as am I. However I seek advice and when you appeared I thought that you might have the answer to my dilemma.”
“Please, ask freely. Although I do not claim to know all, I would be happy to try to answer your question.”
“I’ve heard rumors that there will be a great war between the north and the south. If there were such a conflict, I wonder if my medical training would be better served in the south rather than the north?”
Bill nodded and said sincerely, “Should there be a war between the states, Nurse Whitling, both sides will be in need of such training. But I feel that the north might have an abundant number of medical personnel where as the south may be found wanting. My answer to this is: while I hope there is no war, your training would be best served in the south.”
She smiled, “Thank you so very much, President Scott. I’ll be giving this some deep thought.”
Bill nodded and walked over to John Brand and Rocko Perna standing with glasses of wine and smoking cigars.
He stepped in front of them and after making sure they could not be overheard, raised his glass of wine and said, “To my two friends: 1800 Club members and brothers in time travel.”
“Cheers,” said John and Rocko and the three took a sip of their respective drinks.
John wore his Civil War dress blue uniform and the fire bounced its reflection off of his black leather boots and well polished captain’s bars and Balloon Corp insignia while Rocko wore a white sailing jacket with blue pants, white canvas deck shoes and white cap. His white turtleneck sweater was in sharp contrast with his deep tan, which said that he was at home on the seas and his broad shoulders told all of his many hours rowing his small rowboat to and from his sailboat.
“You guys know that I consider you both to be in my, club-within-a-club. Right?”
John tipped his head and said, “If you mean the club that allows us to travel where the old buildings of today are still getting their first coat of paint, then, yes, I consider myself lucky enough to be in that club.” He turned to Rocko and added, “And you too, Rocko?”
“I most definitely do.”
Bill sighed, “You guys know that I love being president of the 1800 Club, but at times it makes me crazy.”
“Ahh,” said John, “sounds as though there is a mission coming up.”
Bill nodded. “Yes, and as usual I had to go through the club members bios to see who could take the mission on with the highest chance of success.”
“Then,” asked Rocko with a sly grin, “I guess it’s not me or John?”
“Hey,” said John with the same type smile, “You just finished a mission. It’s my turn to go back.”
“Boys, boys,” said Bill in a mock stern voice, “Do either of you guys really want to go to Transylvania?”
“Transylvania?” said both of them in unison.
“Isn’t that where there are vampires?” asked Rocko.
“You see,” said Bill, “I knew that neither of you two would jump at the chance to tackle this one.”
Answering for both of them, Rocko said, “Bill, you know we’re fooling. All you need to do is ask and either one of us would go back in the morning.”
“Right,” added John with a wink, “In the morning, not the night.”
“So, who’s the lucky person?” asked Rocko as he pulled deeply on his cigar.
“Kal Kurop.”
“Ooooh,” said John, “Good choice. He fit right in with the rest of us and he comes from a long line of gamekeepers that worked for some German royalty. He spent half of his life in the Bavarian and other mountains of Europe.”
“He also speaks a list of languages,” added Rocko.
“There he is, Bill, near the fireplace. Are you going to give him the pitch tonight?”
“Yes. And I hope there is something he wants from old New York so I can take him back, get it for him and show him our time travel capability.”
The tinkling of a small dinner bell sounded followed by Matt saying, “Dinner is served.”
Bill walked over to Kal and said as they all started to walk to the dining room, “Mr. Kurop, I’ve meant to speak with you for several weeks now. Would you be so kind as to sit next to me at dinner this evening?”
The tall man smiled and said, “Why of course, President Scott. It will be an honor.”
They walked to the dining room chatting small talk and soon were at their seats. “Please,” Bill said to the group standing in front of their places, “sit and enjoy the meal.” The sound of chairs being pulled in was followed by table talk.
“The table is set beautifully, sir. I’m familiar with such setups from my days of eating with the German Prince, Gustove Redline.”
Knowing that Kal was speaking about his great-great-grandfather whose role he was imitating, Bill answered, “Thank you, sir. My staff shall hear of your compliments.”
Matt seemed to be everywhere as a staff of servers followed his instructions exactly with the serving of The Last Dinner of the Titanic.
After the meal that left the members talking about it, Bill decided to make sure that Matt and his kitchen staff were recognized and knowing that Matt would never allow that to happen, Bill waited until the coffee was served. He timed it perfectly by leaving his seat and going into the kitchen at a time when Matt was at the end of the long table. Bill quickly gathered up the entire staff and paraded them through the serving doors and into the dining room, as Matt was about to leave. Bill stopped him and made sure he was at the front of the line of servers and cooks.
“Attention,” Bill said to the members as the staff lined up against the wall, “Tonight’s superb meal was the brainchild of Matt Worthington and his team. I feel that they should be shown our appreciation.”
The club members all stood and applauded the staff that did a slight bow. Matt raised an eyebrow at Bill and Bill winked at him.
Bill went back to his seat as Matt led his staff back inside, his face a noticeable color of red.
“That was as nice as the dinner, President Scott,” said Kal.
“Thank you, Kal. One must recognize their supporters whenever possible and those men and women are simply the best.”
After coffee, most went back into the great room for brandy and cigars. Bill and Kal stood by the fireplace resting their drinks on its mantel.
“So,” asked Bill, “are you satisfied with the way the club runs, Kal?”
“Very much so, President Scott.”
Bill nodded and flicked an ash into the fireplace. “I have a secret that is actually known by a few of the club members and wonder if you would like to be in on it?”
“Well, I can keep a secret,” said Kal.
“Very well, Kal. After dinner every now and then I select a member to see parts of the club that are usually off limits and thought that tonight would be your turn. That is, should you want to do so.”
Kal jumped at the chance. “Do I want to see parts of the club that are off limits? You bet I would! When, sir?”
Bill shrugged, “Why not tonight?”
“I’m ready when you are, sir.”
“Very well. However, I must be present until the last club member leaves so why don’t you chat with your friends as I mingle?”
“Wonderful, President Scott. I shall meet you as the last member leaves.”
Kal went over to a group of Union Soldiers as Bill joined John and Rocko.
“Great dinner, Present Scott,” said John as he blew out a smoke ring.
Rocko nodded, “I agree. Great idea: the last Titanic dinner.”
“All Matt’s idea. He’s the best.”
“As is his staff,” added John. “Have you asked Kal to stay behind this evening?”
“Yes. And he’s excited about it.”
“I remember my first night getting to see other rooms and antique furniture,” said John, “it was fantastic and then came the part about time travel. Bill, I have to admit that I thought you were a mad man.”
“Me too,” quipped Rocko.
“Well to tell you the truth, I thought past president Prescott Stevens was a kook too. How wrong we were!”
“Man, said John, “I kind of am jealous of Kal right now.”
Bill slapped him on the back, “Johnny Boy, I promise that you get the next mission . . . I hope.”
The grandfather clock struck eleven o’clock as the last club member left the great room to change back into their clothing of today. Kal stood near the fireplace as Bill walked over to him.
“So, Kal, shall we take the nickel tour?”
“Lead the way, President Scott.”
“One thing, Kal, when we are alone I am Bill to you. Okay?”
“Ahh, would that be considered ‘talking out of club time?”
“No. As it is just we two, Bill is fine. But, when the club is in session, I must ask that you refer to me as President Scott for the simple reason that in any business or club there has to be a head person and, as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt
and we must strive our best to keep the 1800 Club up to the standards that my predecessor had. I’m sure you understand.”
“Absolutely, Bill.”
Bill took him up the stairs and Kal felt as though he were stepping back in time because of the 1800s style of furniture and decorations. The ornate gas lamps that lined the halls threw a soft light on the thick brown rugs and mahogany wood that was used throughout plus the many paintings with wide, gold and brown frames and long wires that allowed them to be hung from a molding close to the ceilings. Every door they passed was framed with very ornate wood trim and had an iron 1850 Milan, Italy, Enrico Cassina lion head doorknobs finished in gold plate with matching brass hinges.
Bill stopped and opened the last door and invited Kal in. Once again he felt as though her had been transported back to the mid-1800s with the décor that matched the halls. Bill pointed to two leather easy chairs standing side-by-side facing a crackling fireplace. “Have a seat,” he said and sat in the one next to Kal’s. “My favorite time of the day when we just had a club dinner.”
There was a tap on the same door they just came through and was followed by Matt entering with a bottle of brandy, two glasses and cigars.
“Thank you, Matt,” Bill said passing a cigar to Kal.
“I have Samson in my room and intend to walk him, sir. Is there anything that you wish for tomorrow?”
Bill arched his eyebrows and said, “Black and White cookies? Maybe from Ebengers Bakery?”
Matt nodded, which was his version of a knowing wink and said, “Very well, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
A smiling Bill knew that Matt was going to go back to Brooklyn in 1956 to buy some Black and White cookies from a bakery that closed years ago.
He filled Kal’s glass and offered a toast, “To the 1800 Club and all of its secrets.”
Book X Page 3