Memories of four decades of Le Bec

The landmark Le Bec-Fin plans to close its doors for good after Saturday night service, and we asked readers to share their memories from meals there over the last four decades. Here are excerpts from some of the responses we got:

Donald Strumpf, Bryn Mawr: It was 1970 and Le Bec-Fin had just opened. I was invited to lunch there by my childhood friend, Jay Guben. He had this idea that he should start a business that would teach people how to open small, fine restaurants. (That idea later blossomed into the Restaurant School.) Jay wanted advice from the best chefs in the Delaware Valley, so he had the chef from the Coventry Forge Inn and Georges Perrier. I was just the lawyer with no food background acting as an observer.

Georges took our orders. Jay wanted a trout mousse. I expected Georges to be impressed by that order. Au contraire! He explained he would just be puffing up the trout with air and that was not that hard. The other chef ordered a duck pâte. Georges explained he would have to reduce the duck to its essence. A harder task than making a mousse.

Next, it was my turn to order. I was out of my depth, so I did what I thought was the only sensible thing to do. I ordered both of them! Postscript: They were both excellent.

John Bartlett, Lafayette Hill: In its early days on the other side of Broad Street, my wife and I were part of a full house when a large, drunk, unkempt man barged in babbling that he was hungry. In less than a minute, Georges, in white hat and a foot shorter, had the man in his grasp. He opened the door and threw him into the street, returning to his kitchen with a mild round of applause.

From Renee Bergmann, Cherry Hill: I was given a gift certificate to Le Bec-Fin, which caused my husband and daughter to argue about who would join me. When my daughter, Danielle, agreed to speak French at the restaurant, to the best of her middle-school ability, she won.

We had just returned from a trip to Paris, which included dinner at the famed Jules Verne. It was the most wonderful meal ever and we were very excited to do it again.

We arrived and were promptly seated, but as it sometimes happens with a young child in adult circles, you can get less than stellar service. Then Perrier himself appeared at our table. "What are we celebrating tonight, ladies? A birthday?" Before I could respond, Danielle said, "My mom just took me to Le Jules Verne and I wanted to see if the food was as good here as in France." She had no idea who she was talking to.

He knew we'd been waiting, so Mr. Perrier promptly went behind the waiter's station. We then heard a loud, angry string of French obscenities directed at our waiter. From that moment forward, the dinner was incredible, including impeccable service. It remains one of the best meals I've ever enjoyed.

Sally Downey, Philadelphia (former Inquirer staff writer): My husband, Paul, and I had dinner at Le Bec-Fin in August 2000 to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. As the tables were close, we struck up a conversation with a couple next to us. Turns out they were there to celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary and, like us, had also dined at Le Bec-Fin to celebrate their 25th.

The couple at the table next to them overheard the conversation, and they too were celebrating their 35th and had also celebrated their 25th at Le Bec-Fin.

When Georges Perrier strolled through the restaurant to greet diners, one of us mentioned the happy coincidence. He immediately called for a bottle of champagne and in a grand gesture opened it with a sword. Perhaps he did this every night, but it certainly made us feel special.

Mary Anne Duffy, Berwyn: The one and only time we ate at Le Bec-Fin was to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. This was on July 26, 2000. I planned it as a gift for my husband and included our children (ages 21 and 19). It was wonderful - the ambience, the food, the wine, the cheeses, the dessert cart. Especially enjoyable was our son trying his school French with Georges Perrier, who was most gracious and welcoming. It was a very memorable evening. Leaving the restaurant, we passed a homeless man, which put life in perspective.

Jack and Nikki Cavanaugh, Swarthmore: The first time we went to Le Bec-Fin was in '70 or '71. The prix fixe was $12.50. The meal was incredible! After the meal, Georges came out in his chef whites and a toque to talk to the patrons. My wife asked how many other chefs were in the kitchen to produce such a wonderful meal, and Georges proudly replied, "It is just me . . . but of course I am French!"

The second time we went, we took our best friends, and after martinis, two bottles of wine, and a wonderful meal, we put $110 in cash on the table (it was cash only for many years) to cover the cost including the tip. We agreed that we could never tell our parents that we had spent that much money on a meal!

In the late '70s Julius and Turquoise Erving walked in, each dressed in a full-length mink coat. During the meal, someone telephoned them, so the waiter brought over a phone and plugged it in next to their table. It was the first time we had ever seen someone talk on a phone during a restaurant meal . . . a precursor of times to come!

Rick Nichols, former Inquirer columnist: A good redemption story can win back even the most skeptical diner. But the "new" Le Bec-Fin wasn't so much set on redeeming itself as reliving past glories; resting on somewhat ossified laurels. Its hits of yesteryear were the stuff of deserved legend. But in its latest edition, Le Bec no longer had the field to itself. The entire dining scene in the city had moved on, and up, and in many cases surpassed the gold standard Le Bec had set in a less competitive market decades ago. It's a shame that neither Georges Perrier nor his successor could fully absorb just how profoundly the menu, the dining-room stylistics, and the eating habits of 21st-century Philadelphia had changed. You have to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em. The architects of Le Bec's second act were clueless on that front. And sadly, instead of going out on top - where it deservedly reigned for decades - it suffered that most ignominious of endings: It threw a party and nobody came. It had worn out its welcome. The emperor, once so resplendent, no longer had clothes.