old gold and rose mural and ceiling embellishments seem out of place in
a restaurant that is devoted entirely to catering to lovers of fish.
Nothing in the place indicates its character except the big lobster in
front of the building. Not even so much as a picture to bring a
sentiment of the ocean to the mind.

We are going to take a liberty, and possibly Darbee & Immel may call it
an impertinence, and give them a bit of advice. It costs them nothing
consequently they can act on it or not and it will make no difference.
This is our suggestion:

Change the interior of the place entirely by having around the walls a
series of large glass aquaria, with as many different kinds of fish
swimming about as it is possible to get; something on the order of the
interior of the aquarium in Battery Park in New York. Paint the ceiling
to represent the surface of the water as seen from below. Have seaweed
and kelp in place of ivy, and a fish net or two caught up in the corners
of the room, with here and there a starfish or a crab--not too many, for
profuseness in this sort of decoration is an abomination. Then you will
have a restaurant that will be talked about wherever people sit at meat.
But to get back to our talk about fish, and where to get it prepared and
cooked the best. We must say that the finest fish we have eaten in San
Francisco was not in the high-priced restaurants at all, but in a
little, dingy back room, down at Fishermen's Wharf, where there was sand
on the floor and all the sounds of the kitchen were audible in the
dining room. The place was patronized almost solely by the Italian
fishermen who not only know how to catch a fish but how it ought to be
cooked. One may always rest assured that when he gets a fish in one of
the Italian restaurants it is perfectly fresh, for there are two things
that an Italian demands in eating, and they are fresh fish and fresh