Soho. It's a word to conjure with. From Dickensian novels through the screaming Twenties, the severe drubbing of the Forties, the loucheness of the Sixties and Seventies, the gaudiness of the Eighties and the slightly wearily seen-it-all-before Noughties, it's allowed us to mould it to our collective imagination like a slightly more careworn Tina Turner ("be who you want me to be...") and yet retained an air of even more dissipated dignity.
That it still retains our interest is due not least to the air of permanence given by longstanding restaurants that have quite literally seen it all before, standing as doughty cornerstones, remembrances of times past where we know sins will be forgiven (even Tony Blair, prompted to run for the job whilst there). So the decision by Corus Hotels to sell both The Gay Hussar and its sister restaurant Elena's L'Etoile as they are "no longer part of [their] future plans" seems faintly ridiculous to say the least. They shaped our past; how can they not be part of the future?
London-lover or loather, you may think we've gone soft in the head, banging on about the closure of a couple of perhaps past-it restaurants, but it's more than that. The Gay Hussar has been open since 1953 - an extraordinary feat of longevity in anyone's book - opened by Victor Sassie as the UK's first - and still only - Hungarian restaurant. (Sassie himself wasn't Hungarian, but born in Barrow-in-Furness, but he loved living the legend). It became a bubbling casserole dish of gossip, particularly spiced by the Labour party's continued patronisation and the fact that - according to Shaun Hill, once chef in situ - Victor had installed listening devices in the walls - they did indeed have ears. It was as much known for its non-famous but still recognisable quirky and colourful regular clientele as for its famously plain and hearty (and defiantly non-changing) food. It was a destination, a place to sin and be sinned against and then come back and sin some more - and you don't get places like that anymore: they tend to throw you out after the 2nd martini. Elena's L'Etoile was equally beloved, run by Elena Salvoni until she was in her 90s and home to an even more rakish cast of characters.
To pull the plug on such history - where in many cases history itself was made - is to state that frankly none of it matters. A place much loved by thousands of people matters not at all to those whose life revolves around bean-counting rather than bean-eating and man, must they be dull to have to dinner. To have survived over 60 years is testament to the fact that restaurants are so much more than just their food; they are a home from home, an escape, a second office, an alternate reality, so the loss of two of our country's - not just our capital's - oldest is a sucker-punch to the chest. It's not that we're against the new wave of eat-and-go, food as fast as you can blink: it's exciting and enthralling and we're all for it. There just aren't many of the old guard left standing now and our dining culture is the poorer for it.
Requiescat in pace Gay Hussar and Elena's L'Etoile: May you be gay forever and your star continue to shine (blub). And if you're lucky enough to have an old-timer near you, for God's sake use it, or some damn hotel group will lose it for you.
