Maxim’s in Paris was never famous for its food; it was famous for being Maxim’s: for its champagne buckets on every table, for its art nouveau décor, for the superciliousness of Albert, its stout maitre d’hôtel, for its Friday night black-tie dinners and, above all, for its banquette royale, where the Windsors and Rainiers, the Burtons and Onassises were to be found.

The food was not the issue. One ate caviar and boeuf à la mode, foie gras and grilled lobster, and the cognoscenti knew better than to order the more elaborate, classical creations.