Clubs in popular culture: Spirro's in Alfred Hitchcock Presents - 'Specialty of the House' (1959)

Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955-62) was a seminal series in the history of television. Before it came along, television production was an often amateurish, slapdash affair, marked by low production values and filmed “as live”. Yet this weekly anthology series, introduced (and occasionally directed) by Hitchcock, provided feature film quality stories each week, expertly lit, shot and edited like a half-hour movie, and often casting leading actors of the day. The macabre scripts were typically marked by a twist in the tale, like a collection of short stories.

Laffler (Robert Morley) and Costain (Kenneth Haigh) behold the ‘Specialty of the House’.

Synopsis

One of the most celebrated episodes was ‘Specialty of the House’ (1959). This features a businessman, Mr. Laffler (Robert Morley), excitedly introducing his employee Mr. Costain (Kenneth Haigh) to a secretive New York supper club, located in an anonymous-looking building around the corner from their office. Once there, Laffler waxes lyrical about the ‘Specialty of the House’, a much-prized tender meat dish, which is only served irregularly. The proprietor Madame Spirro (Madame Spivy) explains that it can only be made when a scarce secret ingredient is acquired. Costain is introduced to the dish, and is immediately hooked. Coincidentally, it is noticed that a recently-elected life member of the Club has abruptly resigned and disappeared. Later, Costain is elected a member of the Club. Laffler is planning a long trip abroad, but before he departs he goes to meet the Club’s chef, who is brandishing a meat cleaver, and Spirro locks them in the kitchen together. Spirro then goes out to explain to Costain that Laffler has just been elected a life member, and that she can confidently predict that the ‘Specialty of the House’ will be served soon…

The macabre twist in the tale, strongly implied though never expicitly stated, is reminiscent of the adult short stories of Roald Dahl - himself a contributor of several Alfred Hitchcock Presents scripts. It is, however, based on a 1948 short story by Stanley Ellin, which won the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine’s Best First Short Story Award.

The Club

Much of the action centres around Spirro’s club - unnamed in the TV episode, though called ‘Sbirro’s’ (with the variant spelling) in the original short story. Laffler makes it clear that this is a members-only club, not to be judged by its modest brickwork exterior, with a main entrance on a bin-lined alleyway:

“You mustn’t judge by appearances, it isn’t only a restaurant. It’s a club, the only club of its kind in the world!”

The main staircase of Spirro’s, from the ground-floor lobby to the dining room on the floor above.

Once inside, the clubhouse has a rather sumptuous decor, with a lobby, a grand spiral staircase, and a comfortably-appointed dining room, as well as its capacious, much-prized kitchen. It has “exactly forty” members (see my previous piece here on the economics of small-scale clubs). Costain observes ahead of his first visit:

“You’ve made me feel as though we’re going into a temple, not a restaurant.”

And Laffler responds:

“In a sense we are. I hope you’re not being facetious. You do realise what a privilege it is to be invited to eat here.”

The Club is held with great reverance. Laffler, a relatively recent member of a few months’ standing, gushes:

“Beyond this door, we leave behind the vulgarity of our time. Two qualities are missing in this day and age: mystery and dignity. Especially mystery. Inside, they’re both restored to us.”

Costain rapidly becomes a convert to the Club. He describes his second supper at the Club as:

“The most extraordinary meal I’ve ever eaten!”

Members talk to Madame Spirro, after she has been entertaining them at the piano over dinner.

With this emphasis on mystery, there is an unusual measure of equality in how members and guests are treated, and the (lack of) choice accorded to each:

“Spirro offers no choice, we all eat the same meal. All I can tell you is that it’ll be extraordinary…We eat what’s set before us, and we like it.”

The ‘Specialty of the House’ is strictly rationed: when Laffler asks for more after being served three ladles, he is told, “I’m sorry sir, those are the rules.” Clearly, there are strict protocols around portions per member.

Uniquely, the Club refuses to provide any condiments such as salt and pepper, and it refuses to serve spirits, including cocktails, arguing that these all interfere with the taste buds. This can be seen in keeping with the uniformity of the dining experience, offering no seasoning other than that provided by the chef in the kitchen. The Club does, however, have a remarkable wine list.

Paul, the head waiter, regrets to inform Laffler that the ‘Specialty of the House’ is not being served that evening.

Dining clubs

Spirro’s should be seen in the context of a long history of dining clubs, going back to the seventeenth century. These have the advantage of being unencumbered by any need to meet the overheads of larger clubs which might provide overnight accommodation, sporting facilities, and a packed programme of cultural events across a range of function rooms. Accordingly, they can focus on the essentials of a dining experience. They can simply consist of one room. While they resemble a restaurant in many respects, the notion of running such a restaurant along the lines of a club can build a cameraderie and community among the members - assuming that they turn up to dine with great regularity. (Though the overseas member at Spirro’s who dines just three times a year seems to fly in the face of this - unless they are counted as a Supernumerary Member, who is not included in the tally of 40 members.)

Today, the London clubs which most resemble this model are the Beefsteak Club and Pratt’s, both centred around the main dining room; and indeed the new staircase at the Beefsteak, built in 2019, shares a certain superficial resemblance to that of Spirro’s, with both making the most of the space in a compact building to provide comfort. Yet these clubs are not outliers - they are survivors of a much wider dining club culture of the 18th and 19th centuries; and they have their keen exponents in the United States as well; for instance with the Doubles Club on Fifth Avenue. It is not uncommon for these clubs to be proprietary clubs - as indeed are the Doubles Club in New York and Pratt’s in London, the latter being owned by the Duke of Devonshire’s family.

Staff

Spirro’s is marked by a high level of service, and a high level of confidence in the management. This is a proprietary club, with the owner in full control of membership, decor, service and menu. One does not sense that there is much by way of democracy or transparency in the Club - for increasingly obvious reasons - but that it lives and dies by the instincts of its proprietor, and the obvious high regard of members for this.

Madame Spirro (played by Madame Spivy, the stage name of actress Bertha Levine) is the Club’s proprietor and namesake.

Madame Spirro deals with the front-of-house, talking to members, and performing on the piano at dinnertime, drawing applause. She is a charismatic owner, leading from the front, and placing the stamp of her own personality on the Club. Yet we know relatively little about Spirro herself; a European background is hinted at, as she speaks with an indeterminate accent, and is the only person in the club to refer to a “Speciality”, rather than the American-English “Specialty.” Before she is introduced as a woman, Costain asks:

“What sort of a fellow is he? Where does he come from?”

These questions remain unanswered.

If we know little about Madame Spirro, we know even less about the chef, whose identity remains a mystery to most members. Laffler has been asking to meet him for months - and has been repeatedly turned down. But this only serves to underline the mystique around the chef’s talents, which are highly prized, as Laffler says:

“[In a normal restaurant] who can say whether the result will be a delight, or a disappointment? Here at Spirro’s, we have no doubts, we ask no questions. We know only that there is a genius in the kitchen.”

It is also noted that the chef provides almost the entire culinary output of the Club, with Spirro restricting herself to only cooking the Specialty of the House.

Laffler is introduced to the mysterious and silent chef, just prior to Spirro locking the two men in the kitchen.

We also meet Paul, the head waiter. He is initially dour, but grows to show some compassion for Laffler after being helped by him in a street fight; so that when Laffler is eventually heading to meet the chef at last, he exclaims, for unspecified reasons:

“I beg you, sir, do not go into the kitchen!”

The members are neither particularly welcoming nor talkative - even over dinner.

Members

Madame Spirro says that potential members undergo extensive “testing…sometimes [for] months.” To what criteria, she does not specify. Yet the impression left of the members is not a favourable one.

It is implied to be a men-only club. (The original short story explicitly states that it is a gentlemen’s club at which ladies are not welcome as guests; but this version also has “Sbirro” as a man; whereas here it is left unclear, but Spirro is the only female character seen in the Club.)

For all his enthusiasm, Laffler has only been a member for a few months - one might surmise that the turnover in this 40-member club may be fairly high. That said, there are only a dozen portraits of the fabled “life members” who become “absent friends.” (It is implied that the members are not the only source of the ‘Specialty of the House’ - after a scene where Paul the head waiter is seen tussling with a passing tramp in the alleyway outside, with the strong implication he had been trying to kill him.)

The gallery of the honoured “life members” on the wall of the dining room.

We do not get a particularly flattering impression of the membership from Laffler, played by Morley at his most gluttonous. At one stage he has a change of heart and tries shooing Costain away, protesting:

“I don’t want you here, go away! Why should I share it [the specialty of the house] with you? There’ll be less for me; less for the other members!”

When they are sat down and the meal is being served, Laffler greedily shooes the waiter away from serving Costain, exclaiming, “No, me first!” As the meal is plated up, he pleads for “More, more!”, and the waiter has to refuse him. The staff may provide abundant hospitality, but clearly the members do not.

The other members do not seem particularly chatty. There is no Club Table to encourage communal conversation. The largest table has half a dozen men sat eating their soup in silence, while a number of members dine alone. One is Henlein, who is taciturn, giving one-syllable replies or nodding silently. Another is Lom Fong Ho, a Vice-President of the Club who also dines alone, remarking, “I make three visits a year from Singapore, just to eat here.” While the members are clearly all very devoted to the cuisine, the emphasis seems to be on private indulgence, rather than any shared or clubbable behaviour. What conversation there is between members is brief. Indeed, Laffler and Costain seem to be outliers, in talking animatedly at their table.

Mr Henlein is a particularly taciturn member.

Conclusion

Overall, Spirro’s is a plausibly-rendered arrangement for a club, if a highly eccentric one that would necessitate ruinously high fees. But it is not a particularly sociable club: members keep themselves to themselves, concentrating on cuisine rather than conversation. And needless to say, no real-life private members’ club has ever been known to engage in, or condone, cannibalism. It makes for a terrific story, though.