Friday, May. 23, 1969

Bei Ria

XXX O Haus Maternus. Poststr. 3. P 0 28 51. . . Y X

That one-star, one-line rating for the Weinhaus Maternus in the Michelin German guidebook is somewhat coy, albeit accurate as far as it goes. The service, as Michelin indicates, is indeed gemuetlich and the food good. Eating there is also reasonable: a dinner for two can be had for $12. What the guidebook fails to mention is that Maternus, located in the Bonn suburb of Bad Godesberg* is undoubtedly the most important restaurant in West Germany. Its primary bill of fare is politics, not Sauerbraten, and as the capital's gathering place for party leaders, deputies, diplomats and journalists, it belongs in the great tradition of European political cafes. Within its oak-paneled walls, as much of the Federal Republic's business is probably done as in the nearby buildings of state.

Maternus, named after a 4th century German bishop, successfully combines food, service, atmosphere and personality. Its kitchen turns out such specialties as Filet Wellington, Sole Nantua and Kalbsruecken Orloff, a veal steak that serves ten. The wine cellar contains an outstanding assortment of Moselle. The tables are decorated with well-worn pewter, the five public dining rooms provide the kind of labyrinthine privacy that politicians prefer, and the two private rooms are perfect for In-timpolitik. Presiding over all is Owner-Hostess Ria Alzen, a 55-year-old divorcee of quick wit and ready warmth. Because of her, the restaurant is usually referred to merely as Ria's, and the establishment is as well known as the Palais Schaumburg.

Who's Hungry. Ria's daily guest list is usually a West German Who's Who and who's hungry. Foreign Minister Willy Brandt may be eating at one table; he dines bei Ria so often that she refers to him familiarly as "der Willy" and sees to it that his after-dinner coffee always contains the shot of rum he favors. At another table may be West German President-elect Gustav Heinemann. Berlin's Mayor Klaus Schiitz, a patron since his days in the Bundestag, is always seated at the same table overlooking the garden: he usually wants fresh pineapple for dessert. With Bavarian gusto, Finance Minister Franz Josef Strauss is fond of dropping in for post-midnight salami, black bread, beer and Steinhager.

Owner Alzen's family have been restaurateurs for 176 years; her father bought Maternus in'1908, when it was merely a "wine cafe" serving Rhine wine and cold dishes. One guest, while the restaurant was a U.S. Army officers' club in 1945, was two-gun George Patton: the general candidly admired Ria's legs but never commented on the food. After Bonn became the federal capital and Ria became Maternus' sole owner, the restaurant's political era began. Konrad Adenauer liked to greet Ria, a fellow Rhinelander, in local dialect; he became a regular. Successor Ludwig Erhard became another steady; the day he succeeded der Alte as Chancellor, Ria sent him a Wedgwood tureen brimful of his favorite split pea soup. Chancellor Kurt Georg Kiesinger, who prefers to dine at the Schaumburg, has not maintained the custom.

The Catalyst. One reason why customers return with regularity is Ria's discretion and sure sense of priorities. In a capital abounding with spies (TIME, May 16), Maternus undoubtedly feeds its share; in John le Carre's A Small Town in Germany, the restaurant is the last place in which British Embassy Staffer Leo Harting is seen before he drops out of sight with Her Majesty's secrets. Ria does not concern herself with any such spookery over her cookery, but she does enjoy the politics. She considers herself a catalyst in that area. When a new arrival catches her fancy, she sees to it that he receives prestigious and useful introductions. Once, when a feuding Social Democrat and a Christian Democrat were both dining chez Maternus, she sent a bottle of brandy to each table with a note saying that it had come from the other. Though Ria tries not to play political favorites, she admits a bias toward the generally more sociable Social Democrats. "They are lovable men," she says.

-Which last week, with neighboring villages, was voted into the city proper. On July 1, as a result, Bonn's population will jump from 130,-000 to 300,000.

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