Skull and Bones for Gastronomes
The Secret Society of France's Most Powerful Foodies
Just as the walls of the White House are decorated with portraits of Bonesmen (members of Yale University’s notoriously secretive senior society, the Order of the Skull and Bones), so too are the highest echelons in France occupied by members of another secret society: the Club des Cent.
Club des Cent has counted among its members titans of industry like Robert Peugeot; aristocrats such as Jean de Luxembourg, Éric de Rothschild, and Albert II of Monaco; and even legendary chefs and culinary critics like Paul Bocuse, Alain Ducasse, Henri Gault, and Christian Millau.
However, the activities of these centistes—unlike those of the Bonesmen—do not involve grave digging or God knows what else. Rather, they revolve around—in typical French fashion—the rituals of haute cuisine; for the Club des Cent is, more than anything, a gastronomic society.
Its history is not dissimilar to that of the Michelin Guide, a publication over which les centistes have allegedly enjoyed great influence. Early last century, some high-society motorists were dissatisfied with the dining options along their grand tour routes; so, in 1912, they gathered one hundred friends (hence the name Club des Cent) to share their very best addresses for room and board in France. The novelist and centiste Curnonsky demanded a list of “maisons où l’on mange de très bonnes choses, sur du linge bien blanc, et dans de la vaisselle bien propre” (addresses where one eats very fine things, on very white linens, from very clean dishes).
The club famously hosts weekly lunches every Thursday from 12:40 to 14:30 at a different restaurant in greater Paris. Special members known as brigadiers are responsible, on a rotating basis, for selecting the location and organizing the meal. In the early days of the club, many of these gatherings took place at the famous Art Nouveau pearl of Paris, Maxim’s.
Prospective members must be sponsored (parrainés) by two existing members before being subjected to a rigorous inquisition on matters of food and wine. Eighteen members of a jury hurl questions such as, “What distinction would you make between a repas gourmet and a repas gourmand?” The goal is to discern the depth of appreciation and knowledge of les plaisirs de la bouche (pleasures of the mouth).
If you find yourself among the lucky few (nine in ten are allegedly rejected by the jury) who make it past this grilling, you will enter a period of stage, where you will remain until one of the hundred members dies. And when that fateful day finally arrives, rather than mourn the death of a centiste, you will revel in receiving your official member number (1–100).
The Club des Cent is, unsurprisingly, known for its lavish affairs. In 2012, for the club’s centennial, the wine baron Éric de Rothschild hosted the ninety-nine other members at Château Lafite, where he served a 1912 Lafite Rothschild.
With a level of secrecy and machismo reminiscent of Skull and Bones, it also comes as no surprise that the Club des Cent has always been a boys’ club. But where Yale’s secret senior societies eventually opened admission to women and to a diversity of races and creeds, the Club des Cent remains one hundred percent male and, I’m guessing, mostly white. Only one female member, sometime in the 1930s, it is said, ever earned membership in the club.
I, personally, see the exclusion of women as a fundamental problem, especially for a gastronomic society. Discrimination is, of course, wrong in and of itself, but my gripe has to do with matters less righteous. I would argue, after much observation, that women generally have far more sophisticated palates than men. How is it possible, then, to have a club dedicated to les plaisirs de la bouche when you’ve excluded the gender most capable of enjoying them?
The Birth of Club des Meal
Less than four months ago, I sent out the first issue of this newsletter to eighteen people—almost all friends and family—whom I added to the subscriber list without consent. Most have kindly stuck around, enduring my silly reviews cluttering their inboxes every Sunday. We now have over mille (1,000) subscribers, so I thought it was high time I explained where this little blog gets its name.
One day, flipping through the food encyclopedia, On Va Déguster Paris, by François‑Régis Gaudry—which I referenced heavily for this issue—I came across the page dedicated to the Club des Cent.
“That sounds cool… but too snobby and exclusionary. Mille! That’s more than a hundred. Club des Mille? Aha! Club des Meal!”
Hence the decision to spell “meal” without the s, as the s would ruin the pun.
So there you have it: three words combining two languages with vastly different phonetics, plus a very obscure cultural reference, resulting in a name that is completely incomprehensible even to the vast majority of my target audience. I’m a branding genius, right?
I knew that if I agonized over the name much longer, I’d never get around to pressing “send” on the first newsletter. Ultimately, I like that it references the Club des Cent while alluding to something more accepting, where the only requirements for membership are an interest in food and/or Paris—especially since I myself am very much an amateur.
Since gaining a small following on Instagram, some people have assigned me expertise when, in fact, I have none. Such is the illusion of the internet. The only area in which I—and other internet creators, regardless of niche—can credibly claim expertise, is the making of videos optimized for “the algorithm.” Real expertise in food and other subjects is much quieter and harder to come by.
What I try to share in my videos and newsletter is my experiences and my passion. What does it feel like to sit in these Parisian institutions? To bite into a fresh profiterole with cold vanilla ice cream and hot chocolate sauce, seated beneath a massive stained‑glass dome? To slurp down a classic oyster with mignonette on a sidewalk terrace?
My sole ambition is to capture the magic of this city and its food, and to share it with you. If that’s something that interests you, stick around. And if a friend might be interested too, you can send them this link.
As always, feel free to reply to this email if you found it interesting, and click here to read past issues.
See you next week,
Max
I have enjoyed hearing the origins of Club des Meal