After 37 years of grand culture and cuisine at the
Barclay, Sylvia Mann moves on.
January 28, 2001 - Edited from
The Philadelphia Inquirer, Maria Gallagher
The two mahogany Steinway pianos were already gone from Sylvia Mann's living room - one donated to the Curtis Institute, the other to Dunwoody Village, the retirement community in Newtown Square that is Mann's new address.
Framed black and white photographs signed by the pianist Van Cliburn and baritone Robert Merrill were to be boxed, items that Mann's daughter's didn't want had been shipped to Christie's auction house.
Amid the hurly-burly of packing to move from the Barclay, her home on Rittenhouse Square for 37 years, and prior to a farewell party there, the 87 year old widow of philanthropist Frederic R. Mann paused to reflect on the passions of their shared life - beautiful music, close friends, good food and each other.
"Caviar was our favorite food," Sylvia Mann recalled, as Tootsie, a 16-month-old Maltese, romped about with a toy. "When we were newlyweds, I remember buying one small jar of caviar, and we shared it. The next year, {her husband} was doing better, so he bought us each a jar. We graduated to larger portions of caviar, which we adored. We just inhaled it."
During the decades of involvement in the city's cultural life, the Mann's welcomed many of the 20th century's greatest classical musicians to their home at weekly dinner parties, usually after a performance at the Academy of Music.
The Mann's employed a cook, a butler and a maid, and rarely hired caterers for those dinners. Typically, six round tables for six were placed in the apartment's long foyer. Guests would help themselves to a buffet set out in the dining room.
"We weren't great drinkers," Mann said. "I didn't make a fetish of wines. There was always a bottle of red and a bottle of white on each table, but I was never one of those discerning wine judges.
"Fred only drank vodka."
And the guests?
"Mostly cocktails."
Mann trusted her staff or the caterer to handle the details. On one occasion, she remarked to a staffer that the serving dishes were especially pretty. The startled employee replied, "Well, they should be - I got them out of your drawer."
"I didn't recognize them!" Mann said laughing.
Mann learned to prepare a few Russian dishes, notably borschts ("there must be 225 varieties") because those soups were favorites of her husband and their Russian visitors, particularly Baryshnikov.
She told me of making pasta in the middle of the night when Freddy
awoke and demanded a snack, "and I would sit and eat it, too. We would
have the best times in the kitchen at 2 or 3 in the morning."
Mann's adieu to the Barclay was marked by an elegant cocktail party in the lobby hosted by the building's developer Allan Domb. For 100 guests, Peachtree & Ward Catering prepared hors d'oeuvres such as taro shrimp balls, wild mushroom tartlets, seared tuna dotted with wasabi, and duck pate with Dijon rosettes and cornichon relish.
Portions of lobster-and-potato salad laced with basil were served on Asian style porcelain soup spoons.
Crisp phyllo "cigars" filled with lump crabmeat, served from a wooden cigar box with lemon grass sauce for dipping, were a nod to Freddy Mann's love for stinky smoke. Miniature desserts included linzer cookies, opera tortes, walnut crescents, brownies, and lemon tartlets with candied violets.
These recipes from the farewell party are from Peachtree & Ward.
Bellini
- 1 ounce peach nectar
- 5 ounces chilled champagne, Prosecco, or other sparkling wine.
Pour nectar into flute. Fill with sparkling wine or champagne.
Lobster-and-Potato Salad
- 4 one pound uncooked lobsters, tails and claws only
- 1 tablespoon plus _ teaspoon salt, divided
- 3 Idaho or other baking potaoes (about 7 ounces each)
- 1 bunch of basil, minced
- Juice of one lemon
- 1/8 teaspoon of pepper
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
The lobster and potatoes in this dish can be cooked ahead. Chill separately,
then mix the salad no more than two hours before serving.
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