Peach Melba - Nellie Melba - Helsinki Stock Exchange

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This post is about the grand opening of the "Bourse Restaurant" in Helsinki (Börs in Swedish, Pörssi in Finnish),

Finland, soon after the Helsinki Bourse, the Helsinki Stock Exchange, was opened in 1912:

The Stock Exchange, Fabianinkatu, Helsinki - still functioning after a hundred years.

But now, please accept our invitation to attend the dinner

to honor the grand opening of du Club de la Bourse,

on the 10th of  February 1912:

Please, could you sign here, Sir/Madam.

Please be seated Sir/Madam.

Poire Melba, yum!

Well, talking about Poire Melba, what about the original dessert: Pêche Melba!

Here's an interesting excerpt from our own early twentieth century superstar,

Australian soprano Nellie Melba's memoir 'Melodies and Memories':

One of the troubles that confront a celebrity in the twentieth century is that, though he or she may have the highest ideals of his art, the loftiest conception of his calling, his name may at any moment be vulgarised by the craving of modern " Big Business " to turn all things to the uses of advertisement. It was not so in the old days. Michael Angelo did not have to shudder at seeing his name on, for example, a tin of boot polish. There were no such things as "Shakespeare Cigarettes" or "Byron Bootlaces," and even the great singers of the past - Patti, for example, or Jenny Lind - lived in an age when, as yet, their names were known for their singing only and not for their patronage of cold cream or anti-nerve tonic. And here, if I may, I should like to meet in advance a criticism which has probably occurred to you. "How," you may say, " can Melba talk like this when she herself has allowed her name to be associated with so mundane a thing as a sweet? How can she condemn modern advertisement when Pêche Melba figures on every menu in almost all over the world?" The criticism is a plausible one, and so let me tell you the story of the peaches. I was lunching alone in a little room upstairs at the Savoy Hotel on one of those glorious mornings in early spring when London is the nearest approach to paradise that most of us ever attain. I was particularly hungry, and I was given a most excellent luncheon. Towards the end of it there arrived a little silver dish, which was uncovered before me with a message that Mr. Escoffier had prepared it specially for me. And much as Eve tasted the first apple, I tasted the first Pêche Melba in the world. "It's delicious," I said. "Ask Mr. Escoffier what it is called." Word came back that it had no name, but that Mr. Escoffier would be honoured if he might call it Pêche Melba. I said that he might with the greatest pleasure, and thought no more of it. But very soon afterwards, Pêche Melba was the rage of London. Escoffier is an artist in his own materials if ever there was one. I once tried to calculate exactly how much he would have made had he charged a royalty of one penny on every dozen Pêche Melba that were consumed, but I gave it up when I realised that it would total many millions of pounds. And not only was he the originator of Pêche Melba but of Poire Melba, Fraises Melba, and all the other dishes that followed in its train.

Nellie and Peach Melba.