That Werekiew, renowned in Rome for the daintiness of his dinners, died
suddenly in 1866. Several of the frequenters of his house, advised by a
French officer of the army of occupation, and tired of clubs, hotels, and
ordinary restaurants, determined to form a syndicate and to employ his
former cook. They, with his cooperation, established a sort of superior
cafe, to which with some pride they gave the name of the Culinary Club.
By assuring to each one a minimum of sixteen meals for seven francs, they
kept for four years an excellent table, at which were to be found all the
distinguished tourists in Rome. The year 1870 had disbanded that little
society of connoisseurs and of conversationalists, and the club was
metamorphosed into a restaurant, almost unknown, except to a few artists
or diplomats who were attracted by the ancient splendors of the place,
and, above all, by the knowledge of the "doctor's" talents.

It was not unusual at eight o'clock for the three small rooms which
composed the establishment to be full of men in white cravats, white
waistcoats and evening coats. To cosmopolitan Dorsenne this was a
singularly interesting sight; a member of the English embassy here, of
the Russian embassy farther on, two German attaches elsewhere, two French
secretaries near at hand from St. Siege, another from the Quirinal. What
interested the novelist still more was the conversation of the doctor
himself, genial Brancadori, who could neither read nor write. But he had
preserved a faithful remembrance of all his old customers, and when he
felt confidential, standing erect upon the threshold of his kitchen, of
the possession of which he was so insolently proud, he repeated curious
stories of Rome in the days of his youth. His gestures, so conformable
to the appearance of things, his mobile face and his Tuscan tongue, which
softened into h all the harsh e's between two vowels, gave a savor to his
stories which delighted a seeker after local truths. It was in the
morning especially, when there was no one in the restaurant, that he