CHAPTER I.

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_Harper's Stereotype Edition._

THE

COOK'S ORACLE;

AND

HOUSEKEEPER'S MANUAL.

CONTAINING

=Receipts for Cookery,=

AND

DIRECTIONS FOR CARVING.

ALSO,

THE ART OF COMPOSING THE MOST SIMPLE AND MOST HIGHLY FINISHED

BROTHS, GRAVIES, SOUPS, SAUCES, STORE SAUCES, AND FLAVOURING

ESSENCES; PASTRY, PRESERVES, PUDDINGS, PICKLES, &c.

WITH

A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF COOKERY

FOR CATHOLIC FAMILIES.

THE QUANTITY OF EACH ARTICLE IS ACCURATELY STATED BY WEIGHT AND

MEASURE; BEING THE RESULT OF ACTUAL EXPERIMENTS

INSTITUTED IN THE KITCHEN OF

WILLIAM KITCHINER, M.D.

ADAPTED TO THE AMERICAN PUBLIC

BY A MEDICAL GENTLEMAN.

FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITION.

=New-York:=

_PRINTED BY J. & J. HARPER, 82 CLIFF-ST._

SOLD BY COLLINS AND HANNAY, COLLINS AND CO., G. AND C. AND H. CARVILL,

WILLIAM B. GILLEY, E. BLISS, O. A. ROORBACH, WHITE, GALLAHER, AND WHITE,

C. S. FRANCIS, WILLIAM BURGESS, JR., AND N. B. HOLMES;--PHILADELPHIA,

E. L. CAREY AND A. HART, AND JOHN GRIGG;--ALBANY, O. STEELE, AND W. C.

LITTLE.

1830.

SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, _ss._

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 20th day of November, A. D. 1829, in the

fifty-fourth year of the independence of the United States of America,

J. & J. HARPER, of the said district, have deposited in this office the

title of a book, the right whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the

words following, to wit:

"The Cook's Oracle, and Housekeeper's Manual, Containing Receipts for

Cookery, and Directions for Carving; also the Art of Composing the most

simple and most highly finished Broths, Gravies, Soups, Sauces, Store

Sauces, and Flavouring Essences; Pastry, Preserves, Puddings, Pickles,

&c. With a Complete System of Cookery for Catholic Families. The

Quantity of each Article is accurately stated by Weight and Measure;

being the Result of Actual Experiments instituted in the Kitchen of

William Kitchiner, M.D. Adapted to the American Public by a Medical

Gentleman."

In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled "An

Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of maps,

charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during

the time therein mentioned." And also to an Act, entitled "An Act,

supplementary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encouragement of

Learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the

authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein

mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing,

engraving, and etching historical and other prints."

FREDERICK I. BETTS,

_Clerk of the Southern District of New-York._

ADVERTISEMENT.

The publishers have now the pleasure of presenting to the American

public, Dr. Kitchiner's justly celebrated work, entitled "The Cook's

Oracle, and Housekeeper's Manual," with numerous and valuable

improvements, by a medical gentleman of this city.

The work contains a store of valuable information, which, it is

confidently believed, will not only prove highly advantageous to young

and inexperienced housekeepers, but also to more experienced matrons--to

all, indeed, who are desirous of enjoying, in the highest degree, the

good things which Nature has so abundantly bestowed upon us.

The "Cook's Oracle" has been adjudged, by connoisseurs in this country

and in Great Britain, to contain the best possible instructions on the

subject of serving up, beautifully and economically, the productions of

the water, land, and air, in such a manner as to render them most

pleasant to the eye, and agreeable to the palate.

Numerous notices, in commendation of the work, might be selected from

respectable European journals; but the mere fact, that within twelve

years, seventy thousand copies of it have been purchased by the English

public, is sufficient evidence of its reception and merits.

NEW-YORK, _December, 1829_.

PREFACE

TO

THE SEVENTH EDITION.

The whole of this Work has, a _seventh time_, been carefully revised;

but this last time I have found little to add, and little to alter.

I have bestowed as much attention on each of the 500 receipts as if the

whole merit of the book was to be estimated entirely by the accuracy of

my detail of one particular process.

The increasing demand for "_The Cook's Oracle_," amounting in 1824 to

the extraordinary number of upwards of 45,000, has been stimulus enough

to excite any man to submit to the most unremitting study; and the

Editor has felt it as an imperative duty to exert himself to the utmost

to render "_The Cook's Oracle_" a faithful narrative of all that is

known of the various subjects it professes to treat.

PREFACE.

Among the multitudes of causes which concur to impair health and produce

disease, the most general is the improper quality of our food: this most

frequently arises from the injudicious manner in which it is prepared:

yet strange, "passing strange," this is the only one for which a remedy

has not been sought; few persons bestow half so much attention on the

preservation of their own health, as they daily devote to that of their

dogs and horses.

The observations of the Guardians of Health respecting regimen, &c. have

formed no more than a catalogue of those articles of food, which they

have considered most proper for particular constitutions.

Some medical writers have, "in good set terms," warned us against the

pernicious effects of improper diet; but not one has been so kind as to

take the trouble to direct us how to prepare food properly; excepting

only the contributions of Count Rumford, who says, in pages 16 and 70 of

his tenth Essay, "however low and vulgar this subject has hitherto

generally been thought to be--_in what Art or Science could improvements

be made that would more powerfully contribute to increase the comforts

and enjoyments of mankind? Would to God! that I could fix the public

attention to this subject!_"

The Editor has endeavoured to write the following receipts so plainly,

that they may be as easily understood in the kitchen as he trusts they

will be relished in the dining-room; and has been more ambitious to

present to the Public a Work which will contribute to the daily comfort

of all, than to seem elaborately scientific.

The practical part of the philosophy of the kitchen is certainly not the

most agreeable; gastrology has to contend with its full share of those

great impediments to all great improvements in scientific pursuits; the

prejudices of the ignorant, and the misrepresentations of the envious.

The sagacity to comprehend and estimate the importance of any

uncontemplated improvement, is confined to the very few on whom nature

has bestowed a sufficient degree of perfection of the sense which is to

measure it;--the candour to make a fair report of it, is still more

uncommon; and the kindness to encourage it cannot often be expected from

those whose most vital interest it is to prevent the developement of

that by which their own importance, perhaps their only means of

existence, may be for ever eclipsed: so, as Pope says, how many are

"Condemn'd in business or in arts to drudge,

Without a rival, or without a judge:

All fear, none aid you, and few understand."

Improvements in _Agriculture_ and the _Breed of Cattle_ have been

encouraged by premiums. Those who have obtained them, have been hailed

as benefactors to society! but _the Art of_ making use of these means of

_ameliorating Life and supporting a healthful Existence_--COOKERY--has

been neglected!!

While the cultivators of the raw materials are distinguished and

rewarded, the attempt to improve the processes, without which neither

vegetable nor animal substances are fit for the food of man (astonishing

to say), has been ridiculed, as unworthy the attention of a rational

being!!

The most useful[vii-*] art--which the Editor has chosen to endeavour to

illustrate, because nobody else has, and because he knew not how he

could employ some leisure hours more beneficially for mankind, than to

teach them to combine the "_utile_" with the "_dulce_," and to increase

their pleasures, without impairing their health, or impoverishing their

fortune, has been for many years his favourite employment; and "THE ART

OF INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING LIFE BY FOOD, &C. &C." and this Work,

have insensibly become repositories for whatever observations he has

made which he thought would make us "LIVE HAPPY, AND LIVE LONG!!!"

The Editor has considered the ART OF COOKERY, not merely as a mechanical

operation, fit only for working cooks, but as the _Analeptic part of the

Art of Physic_.

"How best the fickle fabric to support

Of mortal man; in healthful body how

A healthful mind the longest to maintain,"

(ARMSTRONG,)

is an occupation neither unbecoming nor unworthy philosophers of the

highest class: such only can comprehend its importance; which amounts to

no less, than not only the enjoyment of the present moment, but the more

precious advantage of improving and preserving _health_, and prolonging

_life_, which depend on duly replenishing the daily waste of the human

frame with materials pregnant with nutriment and easy of digestion.

If _medicine_ be ranked among those arts which dignify their professors,

_cookery_ may lay claim to an equal, if not a superior, distinction; to

_prevent_ diseases is surely a more advantageous art to mankind than to

_cure_ them. "Physicians should be good cooks, at least in theory."--Dr.

MANDEVILLE _on Hypochondriasis_, p. 316.

The learned Dr. ARBUTHNOT observes, in page 3 of the preface to his

_Essay on Aliment_, that "the choice and measure of the materials of

which our body is composed, what we take daily by _pounds_, is at least

of as much importance as what we take seldom, and only by _grains_ and

spoonfuls."

Those in whom the organ of taste is obtuse, or who have been brought up

in the happy habit of being content with humble fare, whose health is so

firm, that it needs no artificial adjustment; who, with the appetite of

a cormorant, have the digestion of an ostrich, and eagerly devour

whatever is set before them without asking any questions about what it

is, or how it has been prepared--may perhaps imagine that the Editor has

sometimes been rather over-much refining the business of the kitchen.

"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise."

But as few are so fortunate as to be trained up to understand how well

it is worth their while to cultivate such habits of Spartan forbearance,

we cannot perform our duty in registering wholesome precepts, in a

higher degree, than by disarming luxury of its sting, and making the

refinements of Modern Cookery minister not merely to sensual

gratification, but at the same time support the substantial excitement

of "mens sana in corpore sano."

_Delicate and nervous invalids_, who have unfortunately a sensitive

palate, and have been accustomed to a luxurious variety of savoury

sauces, and highly seasoned viands; those who, from the infirmity of

age, are become incapable of correcting habits created by absurd

indulgence in youth, are entitled to some consideration; and, for their

sake, the _Elements of Opsology_ are explained in the most intelligent

manner; and I have assisted the memory of young cooks, by annexing to

each dish the various sauces which usually accompany it, referring to

their numbers in the work.

Some idle idiots have remarked to the Author, that "there were really so

many _references_ from one receipt to another, that it is exceedingly

troublesome indeed; they are directed sometimes to turn to half a dozen

numbers:" this is quite true. If the Author had not adopted this plan of

_reference_, his book, to be equally explicit, must have been ten times

as big; his object has been to give as much information as possible in

as few pages, and for as few pence, as possible.

By reducing culinary operations to something like a certainty,

_invalids_ will no longer be entirely indebted to chance, whether they

shall recover and live long, and comfortably, or speedily die of

starvation in the midst of plenty.

These rules and orders for the regulation of the business of the kitchen

have been extremely beneficial to the Editor's own health and comfort.

He hopes they will be equally so to others: they will help those who

enjoy health to preserve it; teach those who have delicate and irritable

stomachs how to keep them in good temper; and, with a little

discretion, enable them to indulge occasionally, not only with impunity,

but with advantage, in all those alimentary pleasures which a rational

epicure can desire.

There is no question more frequently asked, or which a medical man finds

more difficulty in answering, to the satisfaction of himself and his

patient, than--_What do you wish me to eat?_

The most judicious choice of aliment will avail nothing, unless the

culinary preparation of it be equally judicious. How often is the skill

of a pains-taking physician counteracted by want of corresponding

attention to the preparation of food; and the poor patient, instead of

deriving nourishment, is distressed by indigestion!

PARMENTIER, in his _Code Pharmaceutique_, has given a chapter on the

preparation of food: some of the following receipts are offered as an

humble attempt to form a sort of _Appendix to the Pharmacopoeia_, and

like pharmaceutic prescriptions, they are precisely adjusted by _weight_

and _measure_. The author of a cookery book, first published in 1824,

has claimed this act of industry of mine as his own original invention;

the only notice I shall take of his pretensions is to say, that the

first edition of "_The Cook's Oracle_" appeared in 1817.

By ordering such receipts of the _Cook's Oracle_ as appear adapted to

the case, the recovery of the patient and the credit of the physician,

as far as relates to the administration of aliment, need no longer

depend on the discretion of the cook. For instance: _Mutton Broth_, No.

490, or No. 564; _Toast and Water_, No. 463; _Water Gruel_, No. 572;

_Beef Tea_, No. 563; and _Portable Soup_, No. 252. This concentrated

_Essence of Meat_ will be found a great acquisition to the comfort of

the army, the navy, the traveller, and the invalid. By dissolving half

an ounce of it in half a pint of hot water, you have in a few minutes

_half a pint of good Broth for three halfpence_. The utility of such

accurate and precise directions for preparing food, is to _travellers_

incalculable; for, by translating the receipt, any person may prepare

what is desired as perfectly as a good English cook.

He has also circumstantially detailed the easiest, least expensive, and

most salubrious methods of preparing those highly finished soups,

sauces, ragoûts, and _piquante_ relishes, which the most ingenious

"officers of the mouth" have invented for the amusement of thorough-bred

"_grands gourmands_."

It has been his aim to render food acceptable to the palate, without

being expensive to the purse, or offensive to the stomach; nourishing

without being inflammatory, and savoury without being surfeiting;

constantly endeavouring to hold the balance equal, between the agreeable

and the wholesome, the epicure and the economist.

_He has not presumed to recommend one receipt that has not been

previously and repeatedly proved in his own kitchen_, which has not been

approved by the most accomplished cooks; and has, moreover, been eaten

with unanimous applause by _a Committee of Taste_, composed of some of

the most illustrious gastropholists of this luxurious metropolis.

The Editor has been materially assisted by Mr. Henry Osborne, the

excellent cook to the late Sir Joseph Banks; that worthy President of

the Royal Society was so sensible of the importance of the subject the

Editor was investigating, that he sent his cook to assist him in his

arduous task; and many of the receipts in this edition are much improved

by his suggestions and corrections. See No. 560.

_This is the only English Cookery Book_ which has been written from the

real experiments of a _housekeeper_ for the benefit of _housekeepers_;

which the reader will soon perceive by the minute attention that has

been employed to elucidate and improve the _Art of Plain Cookery_;

detailing many particulars and precautions, which may at first appear

frivolous, but which experience will prove to be essential: to teach a

common cook how to provide, and to prepare, common food so frugally, and

so perfectly, that _the plain every-day family fare of the most

economical housekeeper_, may, with scarcely additional expense, or any

additional trouble, be _a satisfactory entertainment for an epicure or

an invalid_.

By an attentive consideration of "_the Rudiments of Cookery_," and the

respective receipts, the most _ignorant novice_ in the business of the

kitchen, may work with the utmost facility and certainty of success, and

soon become _a good cook_.

Will all the other books of cookery that ever were printed do this? To

give his readers an idea of the immense labour attendant upon this Work,

it may be only necessary for the Author to state, that he has patiently

pioneered through more than _two hundred cookery books_ before he set

about recording these results of his own experiments! The table of _the

most economical family_ may, by the help of this book, be entertained

with as much elegance as that of _a sovereign prince_.

LONDON, 1829.

FOOTNOTES:

[vii-*] "The only test of the utility of knowledge, is its promoting the

happiness of mankind."--_Dr. Stark on Diet_, p. 90.

CONTENTS.

Page

PREFACE v

---- to Seventh Edition iv

INTRODUCTION 15

Culinary Curiosities 32

Invitations to Dinner 36

Carving 43

Friendly Advice to Cooks 45

Table of Weights, &c. 65

RUDIMENTS OF COOKERY.

CHAPTER 1. Boiling 66

---- Baking 72

---- 2. Roasting 74

---- 3. Frying 80

---- 4. Broiling 82

---- 5. Vegetables 83

---- 6. Fish 86

Fish Sauces 88

---- 7. Broths and Soups 89

---- 8. Gravies and Sauces 100

---- 9. Made Dishes 106

Receipts 108

Marketing Tables 355

APPENDIX.

Pastry, Confectionery, Preserves, &c. 360

Bread, &c. 390

Observations on Puddings and Pies 392

Pickles 398

Various useful Family Receipts 405

Observations on Carving 409

Index 421

INTRODUCTION.

The following receipts are not a mere marrowless collection of shreds

and patches, and cuttings and pastings, but a bonâ fide register of

practical facts,--accumulated by a perseverance not to be subdued or

evaporated by the igniferous terrors of a roasting fire in the

dog-days,--in defiance of the odoriferous and calefacient repellents of

roasting, boiling, frying, and broiling;--moreover, the author has

submitted to a labour no preceding cookery-book-maker, perhaps, ever

attempted to encounter,--having _eaten_ each receipt before he set it

down in his book.

They have all been heartily welcomed by a sufficiently well-educated

palate, and a rather fastidious stomach:--perhaps this certificate of

the reception of the respective preparations, will partly apologize for

the book containing a smaller number of them than preceding writers on

this gratifying subject have transcribed--for the amusement of "every

man's master," the STOMACH.[15-*]

Numerous as are the receipts in former books, they vary little from each

other, except in the name given to them; the processes of cookery are

very few: I have endeavoured to describe each, in so plain and

circumstantial a manner, as I hope will be easily understood, even by

the amateur, who is unacquainted with the practical part of culinary

concerns.

OLD HOUSEKEEPERS may think I have been tediously minute on many points

which may appear trifling: my predecessors seem to have considered the

RUDIMENTS of COOKERY quite unworthy of attention. These little delicate

distinctions constitute all the difference between a common and an

elegant table, and are not trifles to the YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS who must

learn them either from the communication of others or blunder on till

their own slowly accumulating and dear-bought experience teaches them.

A wish to save time, trouble and money to inexperienced housekeepers and

cooks, and to bring the enjoyments and indulgences of the opulent within

reach of the middle ranks of society, were my motives for publishing

this book. I could accomplish it only by supposing the reader (when he

first opens it) to be as ignorant of cookery as I was, when I first

thought of writing on the subject.

I have done my best to contribute to the comfort of my fellow-creatures:

by a careful attention to the directions herein given, the most ignorant

may easily learn to prepare food, not only in an agreeable and

wholesome, but in an elegant and economical manner.

This task seems to have been left for me; and I have endeavoured to

collect and communicate, in the clearest and most intelligible manner,

the whole of the heretofore abstruse mysteries of the culinary art,

which are herein, I hope, so plainly developed, that the most

inexperienced student in the occult art of cookery, may work from my

receipts with the utmost facility.

I was perfectly aware of the extreme difficulty of teaching those who

are entirely unacquainted with the subject, and of explaining my ideas

effectually, by mere receipts, to those who never shook hands with a

stewpan.

In my anxiety to be readily understood, I have been under the necessity

of occasionally repeating the same directions in different parts of the

book; but I would rather be censured for repetition than for obscurity,

and hope not to be accused of affectation, while my intention is

perspicuity.

Our neighbours of France are so justly famous for their skill in the

affairs of the kitchen, that the adage says, "As many Frenchmen as many

cooks:" surrounded as they are by a profusion of the most delicious

wines, and seducing _liqueurs_ offering every temptation to render

drunkenness delightful, yet a tippling Frenchman is a "_rara avis_."

They know how so easily to keep life in sufficient repair by good

eating, that they require little or no screwing up with liquid stimuli.

This accounts for that "_toujours gai_," and happy equilibrium of the

animal spirits which they enjoy with more regularity than any people:

their elastic stomachs, unimpaired by spirituous liquors, digest

vigorously the food they sagaciously prepare and render easily

assimilable, by cooking it sufficiently,--wisely contriving to get half

the work of the stomach done by fire and water, till

"The tender morsels on the palate melt,

And all the force of cookery is felt."

See Nos. 5 and 238, &c.

The cardinal virtues of cookery, "CLEANLINESS, FRUGALITY, NOURISHMENT,

AND PALATABLENESS," preside over each preparation; for I have not

presumed to insert a single composition, without previously obtaining

the "_imprimatur_" of an enlightened and indefatigable "COMMITTEE OF

TASTE," (composed of thorough-bred GRANDS GOURMANDS of the first

magnitude,) whose cordial co-operation I cannot too highly praise; and

here do I most gratefully record the unremitting zeal they manifested

during their arduous progress of proving the respective recipes: they

were so truly philosophically and disinterestedly regardless of the wear

and tear of teeth and stomach, that their labour appeared a pleasure to

them. Their laudable perseverance has enabled me to give the

inexperienced amateur an unerring guide how to excite as much pleasure

as possible on the palate, and occasion as little trouble as possible to

the principal viscera, and has hardly been exceeded by those determined

spirits who lately in the Polar expedition braved the other extreme of

temperature, &c. in spite of whales, bears, icebergs, and starvation.

Every attention has been paid in directing the proportions of the

following compositions; not merely to make them inviting to the

appetite, but agreeable and useful to the stomach--nourishing without

being inflammatory, and savoury without being surfeiting.

I have written for those who make nourishment the chief end of

eating,[17-*] and do not desire to provoke appetite beyond the powers

and necessities of nature; proceeding, however, on the purest epicurean

principles of indulging the palate as far as it can be done without

injury or offence to the stomach, and forbidding[18-*] nothing but what

is absolutely unfriendly to health.

----"That which is not good, is not delicious

To a well-govern'd and wise appetite."--MILTON.

This is by no means so difficult a task as some gloomy philosophers

(uninitiated in culinary science) have tried to make the world believe;

who seem to have delighted in persuading you, that every thing that is

nice must be noxious, and that every thing that is nasty is wholesome.

"How charming is divine philosophy?

Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,

But musical as is Apollo's lute,

And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,

Where no crude surfeit reigns."--MILTON.

Worthy William Shakspeare declared he never found a philosopher who

could endure the toothache patiently:--the Editor protests that he has

not yet overtaken one who did not love a feast.

Those _cynical_ slaves who are so silly as to suppose it unbecoming a

wise man to indulge in the common comforts of life, should be answered

in the words of the French philosopher. "Hey--what, do you philosophers

eat dainties?" said a gay Marquess. "Do you think," replied DESCARTES,

"that God made good things only for fools?"

Every individual, who is not perfectly imbecile and void of

understanding, is an _epicure_ in his own way. The epicures in boiling

of potatoes are innumerable. The perfection of all enjoyment depends on

the perfection of the faculties of the mind and body; therefore, the

temperate man is the greatest epicure, and the only true voluptuary.

THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE have been highly appreciated and carefully

cultivated in all countries and in all ages;[19-*] and in spite of all

the stoics, every one will allow they are the first and the last we

enjoy, and those we taste the oftenest,--above a thousand times in a

year, every year of our lives!

THE STOMACH is the mainspring of our system. If it be not sufficiently

wound up to warm the heart and support the circulation, the whole

business of life will, in proportion, be ineffectively performed: we can

neither _think_ with precision, _walk_ with vigour, _sit down_ with

comfort, nor _sleep_ with tranquillity.

There would be no difficulty in proving that it influences (much more

than people in general imagine) all our actions: the destiny of nations

has often depended upon the more or less laborious digestion of a prime

minister.[19-+] See a very curious anecdote in the memoirs of COUNT

ZINZENDORFF in Dodsley's Annual Register for 1762. 3d edition, p. 32.

The philosopher Pythagoras seems to have been extremely nice in eating;

among his absolute injunctions to his disciples, he commands them to

"abstain from beans."

This ancient sage has been imitated by the learned who have discoursed

on this subject since, who are liberal of their negative, and niggardly

of their positive precepts--in the ratio, that it is easier to tell you

not to do this, than to teach you how to do that.

Our great English moralist Dr. S. JOHNSON, his biographer Boswell tells

us, "was a man of very nice discernment in the science of cookery," and

talked of good eating with uncommon satisfaction. "Some people," said

he, "have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what

they eat; for my part, I mind my belly very studiously and very

carefully, and I look upon it that he who does not mind his belly, will

hardly mind any thing else."

The Dr. might have said, _cannot_ mind any thing else. The energy of our

BRAINS is sadly dependent on the behaviour of our BOWELS.[20-*] Those

who say, 'Tis no matter what we eat or what we drink, may as well say,

'Tis no matter whether we eat, or whether we drink.

The following anecdotes I copy from Boswell's life of Johnson.

_Johnson._--"I could write a better book of cookery than has ever yet

been written; it should be a book on philosophical principles. I would

tell what is the best butcher's meat, the proper seasons of different

vegetables, and then, how to roast, and boil, and to compound."

_Dilly._--"_Mrs. Glasse's cookery_, which is the best, was written by

Dr. Hill."

_Johnson._--"Well, Sir--this shows how much better the subject of

cookery[20-+] may be treated by a philosopher;[20-++] but you shall see

what a book of cookery I shall make, and shall agree with Mr. Dilly for

the copyright."

_Miss Seward._--"That would be Hercules with the distaff indeed!"

_Johnson._--"No, madam; women can spin very well, but they cannot make a

good book of cookery." See vol. iii. p. 311.

Mr. B. adds, "I never knew a man who relished good eating more than he

did: when at table, he was totally absorbed in the business of the

moment: nor would he, unless in very high company, say one word, or even

pay the least attention to what was said by others, until he had

satisfied his appetite."

The peculiarities of his constitution were as great as those of his

character: luxury and intemperance are relative terms, depending on

other circumstances than mere quantity and quality. Nature gave him an

excellent palate, and a craving appetite, and his intense application

rendered large supplies of nourishment absolutely necessary to recruit

his exhausted spirits.

The fact is, this great man had found out that animal and intellectual

vigour,[21-*] are much more entirely dependent upon each other than is

commonly understood; especially in those constitutions whose digestive

and chylopoietic organs are capricious and easily put out of tune, or

absorb the "_pabulum vitæ_" indolently and imperfectly: with such, it is

only now and then that the "_sensorium commune_" vibrates with the full

tone of accurately considerative, or creative energy. "His favourite

dainties were, a leg of pork boiled till it dropped from the bone, a

veal-pie, with plums and sugar, or the outside cut of a salt buttock of

beef. With regard to _drink_, his liking was for the strongest, as it

was not the _flavour_, but the _effect_ that he desired." Mr. Smale's

Account of Dr. Johnson's Journey into Wales, 1816, p. 174.

Thus does the HEALTH always, and very often the LIFE of invalids, and

those who have weak and infirm STOMACHS, depend upon the care and skill

of the COOK. Our forefathers were so sensible of this, that in days of

yore no man of consequence thought of making a day's journey without

taking his "MAGISTER COQUORUM" with him.

The rarity of this talent in a high degree is so well understood, that

besides very considerable pecuniary compensation, his majesty's first

and second cooks[22-*] are now esquires by their office. We have every

reason to suppose they were persons of equal dignity heretofore.

In Dr. Pegge's "Forme of Cury," 8vo. London, 1780, we read, that when

Cardinal Otto, the Pope's legate, was at Oxford, A. D. 1248, his brother

officiated as "MAGISTER COQUINÆ."

This important post has always been held as a situation of high trust

and confidence; and the "MAGNUS COQUUS," Anglicè, the _Master

Kitchener_, has, time immemorial, been an officer of considerable

dignity in the palaces of princes.

The cook in PLAUTUS (_pseudol_) is called "_Hominum servatorem_," the

preserver of mankind; and by MERCIER "_un médecin qui guérit

radicalement deux maladies mortelles, la faim et la soif_."

The Norman conqueror WILLIAM bestowed several portions of land on these

highly-favoured domestics, the "COQUORUM PRÆPOSITUS," and "COQUUS

REGIUS;" a manor was bestowed on Robert Argyllon the "GRAND QUEUX," to

be held by the following service. See that venerable record, the

doomsday book.

"Robert Argyllon holdeth one carucate of land in Addington in the county

of Surrey, by the service of making one mess in an earthen pot in the

kitchen of our Lord the KING, on the day of his coronation, called _De

la Groute_," i. e. a kind of plum-porridge, or water-gruel with plums in

it. This dish is still served up at the royal table at coronations, by

the Lord of the said manor of Addington.

At the coronation of King George IV., Court of Claims, July 12, 1820:

"The petition of the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, which was presented by

Sir G. Nayler, claiming to perform the service of presenting a dish of

_De la Groute_ to the King at the banquet, was considered by the Court,

and decided to be allowed."

A good dinner is one of the greatest enjoyments of human life; and

as the practice of cookery is attended with so many discouraging

difficulties,[22-+] so many disgusting and disagreeable circumstances,

and even dangers, we ought to have some regard for those who encounter

them to procure us pleasure, and to reward their attention by rendering

their situation every way as comfortable and agreeable as we can. He who

preaches _integrity_ to those in the kitchen, (see "_Advice to Cooks_,")

may be permitted to recommend _liberality_ to those in the parlour; they

are indeed the sources of each other. Depend upon it, "True self-love

and social are the same;" "Do as you would be done by:" give those you

are obliged to trust every inducement to be honest, and no temptation to

play tricks.

When you consider that a good servant eats[23-*] no more than a bad one,

how much waste is occasioned by provisions being dressed in a slovenly

and unskilful manner, and how much a good cook (to whom the conduct of

the kitchen is confided) can save you by careful management, no

housekeeper will hardly deem it an unwise speculation (it is certainly

an amiable experiment), to invite the _honesty_ and _industry_ of

domestics, by setting them an example of _liberality_--at least, show

them, that "According to their pains will be their gains."

Avoid all approaches towards _familiarity_; which, to a proverb, is

accompanied by _contempt_, and soon breaks the neck of obedience.

A lady gave us the following account of the progress of a favourite.

"The first year, she was an excellent servant; the second, a kind

mistress; the third, an intolerable tyrant; at whose dismissal, every

creature about my house rejoiced heartily."

However, servants are more likely to be praised into good conduct, than

scolded out of bad. Always commend them when they do right. To cherish

the desire of pleasing in them, you must show them that you are

pleased:--

"Be to their faults a little blind,

And to their virtues very kind."

By such conduct, ordinary servants may be converted into good ones: few

are so hardened, as not to feel gratified when they are kindly and

liberally treated.

It is a good maxim to select servants not younger than THIRTY:--_before_

that age, however comfortable you may endeavour to make them, their want

of experience, and the _hope_ of something still _better_, prevents

their being satisfied with their present state; _after_, they have had

the benefit of experience: if they are tolerably comfortable, they will

endeavour to deserve the smiles of even a moderately kind master, for

_fear_ they may change for the _worse_.

Life may indeed be very fairly divided into the seasons of HOPE and

FEAR. In YOUTH, _we hope every thing may be right_: in AGE, _we fear

every thing will be wrong_.

Do not discharge a good servant for a slight offence:--

"Bear and forbear, thus preached the stoic sages,

And in two words, include the sense of pages."--POPE.

HUMAN NATURE IS THE SAME IN ALL STATIONS: if you can convince your

servants that you have a generous and considerate regard for their

health and comfort, why should you imagine that they will be insensible

to the good they receive?

Impose no commands but what are reasonable, nor reprove but with justice

and temper: the best way to ensure which is, never to lecture them till

at least one day after they have offended you.

If they have any particular hardship to endure in your service, let them

see that you are concerned for the necessity of imposing it.

_If they are sick_, remember you are their patron as well as their

master: remit their labour, and give them all the assistance of food,

physic, and every comfort in your power. Tender assiduity about an

invalid is half a cure; it is a balsam to the mind, which has a most

powerful effect on the body, soothes the sharpest pains, and strengthens

beyond the richest cordial.

Ye who think that to protect and encourage virtue is the best preventive

from vice, reward your female servants liberally.

CHARITY SHOULD BEGIN AT HOME. Prevention is preferable to cure--but I

have no objection to see your names ornamenting the lists of subscribers

to foundling hospitals and female penitentiaries.[25-*] Gentle reader,

for a definition of the word "_charity_," let me refer you to the 13th

Chapter of St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians.

"To say nothing of the deleterious vapours and pestilential exhalations

of the charcoal, which soon undermine the health of the heartiest, the

glare of a scorching fire, and the smoke so baneful to the eyes and the

complexion, are continual and inevitable dangers: and a cook must live

in the midst of them, as a soldier on the field of battle surrounded by

bullets, and bombs, and CONGREVE'S rockets; with this only difference,

that for the first, every day is a fighting day, that her warfare is

almost always without glory, and most praiseworthy achievements pass not

only without reward, but frequently without thanks: for the most

consummate cook is, alas! seldom noticed by the master, or heard of by

the guests; who, while they are eagerly devouring his turtle, and

drinking his wine, care very little who dressed the one, or sent the

other."--_Almanach des Gourmands._

This observation applies especially to the SECOND COOK, or first kitchen

maid, in large families, who have by far the hardest place in the house,

and are worse paid, and truly verify the old adage, "the more work, the

less wages." If there is any thing right, the cook has the praise--when

there is any thing wrong, as surely the _kitchen maid_ has the blame. Be

it known, then, to honest JOHN BULL, that this humble domestic is

expected by the cook to take the entire management of all ROASTS, BOILS,

FISH, and VEGETABLES; i. e. the principal part of an Englishman's

dinner.

The master, who wishes to enjoy the rare luxury of a table regularly

well served in the best style, must treat his cook as his friend--watch

over her health[26-*] with the tenderest care, and especially be sure

her taste does not suffer from her stomach being deranged by bilious

attacks.

Besides understanding the management of the spit, the stewpan, and the

rolling-pin, a COMPLETE COOK must know how to go to market, write

legibly, and keep accounts accurately.

In well-regulated private families the most convenient custom seems to

be, that the cook keep a house-book, containing an account of the

miscellaneous articles she purchases; and the butcher's, baker's,

butterman's, green-grocer's, fishmonger's, milkman's, and washing bills

are brought in every Monday; these it is the duty of the cook to

examine, before she presents them to her employer every Tuesday morning

to be discharged.

The advantage of paying such bills weekly is incalculable: among others

the constant check it affords against any excess beyond the sum allotted

for defraying them, and the opportunity it gives of correcting increase

of expense in one week by a prudent retrenchment in the next. "If you

would live _even_ with the world, calculate your expenses at _half_ your

income--if you would grow _rich_, at _one-third_."

It is an excellent plan to have a table of rules for regulating the

ordinary expenses of the family, in order to check any innovation or

excess which otherwise might be introduced unawares, and derange the

proposed distribution of the annual revenue.

To understand the economy of household affairs is not only essential to

a woman's proper and pleasant performance of the duties of a wife and a

mother, but is indispensable to the comfort, respectability, and general

welfare of all families, whatever be their circumstances.

The editor has employed some leisure hours in collecting practical hints

for instructing inexperienced housekeepers in the useful

_Art of providing comfortably for a family;_

which is displayed so plainly and so particularly, that a young lady

may learn the delectable arcana of domestic affairs, in as little time

as is usually devoted to directing the position of her hands on a

_piano-forte_, or of her feet in a _quadrille_--this will enable her to

make the cage of matrimony as comfortable as the net of courtship was

charming. For this purpose he has contrived a Housekeeper's Leger, a

plain and easy plan of keeping accurate accounts of the expenses of

housekeeping, which, with only one hour's attention in a week, will

enable you to balance all such accounts with the utmost exactness; an

acceptable acquisition to all who admit that order and economy are the

basis of comfort and independence.

It is almost impossible for a cook in a large family, to attend to the

business of the kitchen with any certainty of perfection, if employed in

other household concerns. It is a service of such importance, and so

difficult to perform even tolerably well, that it is sufficient to

engross the entire attention of one person.

"If we take a review of the qualifications which are indispensable in

that highly estimable domestic, a GOOD COOK, we shall find that very few

deserve that name."[27-*]

"The majority of those who set up for professors of this art are of mean

ability, selfish, and pilfering every thing they can; others are

indolent and insolent. Those who really understand their business (which

are by far the smallest number), are too often either ridiculously

saucy, or insatiably thirsty; in a word, a good subject of this class is

a _rara avis_ indeed!"

"God sends meat,"--who sends cooks?[28-*] the proverb has long saved us

the trouble of guessing. Vide _Almanach des Gourmands_, p. 83.

Of what value then is not this book, which will render every person of

common sense a good cook in as little time as it can be read through

attentively!

If the masters and mistresses of families will sometimes condescend to

make an amusement of this art, they will escape numberless

disappointments, &c. which those who will not, must occasionally

inevitably suffer, to the detriment of both their health and their

fortune.

I did not presume to offer any observations of my own, till I had read

all that I could find written on the subject, and submitted (with no

small pains) to a patient and attentive consideration of every preceding

work, relating to culinary concerns, that I could meet with.

These books vary very little from each other; except in the preface,

they are

"Like in all else as one egg to another."

"_Ab uno, disce omnes_," cutting and pasting have been much oftener

employed than the pen and ink: any one who has occasion to refer to two

or three of them, will find the receipts almost always "_verbatim et

literatim_;" equally unintelligible to those who are ignorant, and

useless to those who are acquainted with the business of the kitchen.

I have perused not fewer than 250 of these volumes.

During the Herculean labour of my tedious progress through these books,

few of which afford the germ of a single idea, I have often wished that

the authors of them had been satisfied with giving us the results of

their own practice and experience, instead of idly perpetuating the

errors, prejudices, and plagiarisms of their predecessors; the strange,

and unaccountable, and uselessly extravagant farragoes and heterogeneous

compositions which fill their pages, are combinations no rational being

would ever think of either dressing or eating; and without ascertaining

the practicability of preparing the receipts, and their fitness for food

when done, they should never have ventured to recommend them to others:

the reader of them will often put the same _quære_, as _Jeremy_, in

Congreve's comedy of "_Love for Love_," when _Valentine_ observes,

"There's a page doubled down in Epictetus that is a feast for an

emperor.--_Jer._ Was Epictetus a real cook, or did he only write

receipts?"

Half of the modern cookery books are made up with pages cut out of

obsolete works, such as the "Choice Manual of Secrets," the "True

Gentlewoman's Delight," &c. of as much use, in this age of refinement,

as the following curious passage from "The Accomplished Lady's Rich

Closet of Rarities, or Ingenious Gentlewoman's Delightful Companion,"

12mo. London, 1653, chapter 7, page 42; which I have inserted in a

note,[29-*] to give the reader a notion of the barbarous manners of the

16th century, with the addition of the arts of the confectioner, the

brewer, the baker, the distiller, the gardener, the clear-starcher, and

the perfumer, and how to make pickles, puff paste, butter, blacking, &c.

together with my _Lady Bountiful's_ sovereign remedy for an inward

bruise, and other ever-failing nostrums,--_Dr. Killemquick's_

wonder-working essence, and fallible elixir, which cures all manner of

incurable maladies directly minute, _Mrs. Notable's_ instructions how to

make soft pomatum, that will soon make more hair grow upon thy head,

"than Dobbin, thy thill-horse, hath upon his tail," and many others

equally invaluable!!!--the proper appellation for which would be "a

dangerous budget of vulgar errors," concluding with a bundle of extracts

from "the Gardener's Calendar," and "the Publican's Daily Companion."

Thomas Carter, in the preface to his "City and Country Cook," London,

1738, says, "What I have published is almost the only book, one or two

excepted, which of late years has come into the world, that has been the

result of the author's own practice and experience; for though very few

eminent practical cooks have ever cared to publish what they knew of the

art, yet they have been prevailed on, for a small premium from a

bookseller, to lend their names to performances in this art unworthy

their owning."

Robert May, in the introduction to his "Accomplished Cook," 1665, says,

"To all honest and well-intending persons of my profession, and others,

this book cannot but be acceptable, as it plainly and profitably

discovers the mystery of the whole art; for which, though I may be

envied by some, that only value their private interests above posterity

and the public good; yet (he adds), God and my own conscience would not

permit me to bury these, my experiences, with my silver hairs in the

grave."

Those high and mighty masters and mistresses of the alimentary art, who

call themselves "_profess_" cooks, are said to be very jealous and

mysterious beings; and that if, in a long life of laborious stove-work,

they have found out a few useful secrets, they seldom impart to the

public the fruits of their experience; but sooner than divulge their

discoveries for the benefit and comfort of their fellow-creatures, these

silly, selfish beings will rather run the risk of a reprimand from their

employers, and will sooner spoil a good dinner, than suffer their

fellow-servants to see how they dress it!!!

The silly selfishness of short-sighted mortals, is never more extremely

absurd than in their unprofitable parsimony of what is of no use to

them, but would be of actual value to others, who, in return, would

willingly repay them tenfold. However, I hope I may be permitted to

quote, in defence of these culinary professors, a couple of lines of a

favourite old song:

"If you search the world round, each profession, you'll find,

Hath some snug little secrets, which the Mystery[30-*] they call."

MY RECEIPTS are the results of experiments carefully made, and

accurately and circumstantially related;

The TIME requisite for dressing being stated;

The QUANTITIES of the various articles contained in each composition

being carefully set down in NUMBER, WEIGHT, and MEASURE.

The WEIGHTS are _avoirdupois_; the MEASURE, _Lyne's_ graduated glass, i.

e. a wine-pint divided into sixteen ounces, and the ounce into eight

drachms. By a _wine-glass_ is to be understood two ounces liquid

measure; by a large or _table-spoonful_, half an ounce; by a small or

_tea-spoonful_, a drachm, or half a quarter of an ounce, i. e. nearly

equal to two drachms avoirdupois.

At some glass warehouses, you may get measures divided into tea and

table-spoons. No cook should be without one, who wishes to be regular in

her business.

This precision has never before been attempted in cookery books, but I

found it indispensable from the impossibility of _guessing_ the

quantities intended by such obscure expressions as have been usually

employed for this purpose in former works:--

For instance: a bit of this--a handful of that--a pinch of t'other--do

'em over with an egg--and a sprinkle of salt--a dust of flour--a shake

of pepper--a squeeze of lemon,--or a dash of vinegar, &c. are the

constant phrases. Season it to your palate, (meaning the cook's,) is

another form of speech: now, if she has any, (it is very unlikely that

it is in unison with that of her employers,) by continually sipping

_piquante_ relishes, it becomes blunted and insensible, and loses the

faculty of appreciating delicate flavours, so that every thing is done

at random.

These culinary technicals are so very differently understood by the

learned who write them, and the unlearned who read them, and their

"_rule of thumb_" is so extremely indefinite, that if the same dish be

dressed by different persons, it will generally be so different, that

nobody would imagine they had worked from the same directions, which

will assist a person who has not served a regular apprenticeship in the

kitchen, no more than reading "Robinson Crusoe" would enable a sailor to

steer safely from England to India.[32-*]

It is astonishing how cheap _cookery books_ are held by practical cooks:

when I applied to an experienced artist to recommend me some books that

would give me a notion of the rudiments of cookery, he replied, with a

smile, "You may read _Don Quixote_, or _Peregrine Pickle_, they are both

very good books."

Careless expressions in cookery are the more surprising, as the

confectioner is regularly attentive, in the description of his

preparations, to give the exact quantities, though his business,

compared to cookery, is as unimportant as the ornamental is inferior to

the useful.

The maker of blanc-mange, custards, &c. and the endless and useless

collection of puerile playthings for the palate (of first and second

childhood, for the vigour of manhood seeketh not to be sucking sugar, or

sipping turtle), is scrupulously exact, even to a grain, in his

ingredients; while cooks are unintelligibly indefinite, although they

are intrusted with the administration of our FOOD, upon the proper

quality and preparation of which, all our powers of body and mind

depend; their energy being invariably in the ratio of the performance of

the restorative process, i. e. the quantity, quality, and perfect

digestion of what we eat and drink.

Unless _the stomach_ be in good humour, every part of the machinery of

_life_ must vibrate with languor: can we then be too attentive to its

adjustment?!!

CULINARY CURIOSITIES.

The following specimen of the unaccountably whimsical harlequinade

of foreign kitchens is from "La Chapelle" Nouveau Cuisinier, Paris,

1748.

"A turkey," in the shape of "_football_," or "_a hedge-hog_." A

"shoulder of mutton," in the shape of a "_bee-hive_."--"Entrée of

pigeons," in the form of a "_spider_," or _sun_-fashion, or "in the

form of a _frog_," or, in "the form of the _moon_."--Or, "to make

a pig taste like a wild boar;" take _a living pig_, and _let him_

swallow the following drink, viz. boil together in vinegar and

water, some rosemary, thyme, sweet basil, bay leaves, and sage;

when you have _let him_ swallow this, _immediately whip him to

death_, and roast him forthwith. How "to still a cocke for a weak

bodie that is consumed,--take a red cocke that is not too olde, and

beat him to death."--See THE BOOKE OF COOKRYE, very necessary for

all such as delight therein. Gathered by A. W., 1591, p. 12. How to

ROAST _a pound of_ BUTTER, curiously and well; and to _farce_ (the

culinary technical for _to stuff_) a boiled leg of lamb with red

herrings and garlic; with many other receipts of as high a relish,

and of as easy digestion as the _devil's venison_, i. e. a roasted

tiger stuffed with tenpenny nails, or the "_Bonne Bouche_," the

rareskin Rowskimowmowsky offered to Baron Munchausen, "a fricassee

of pistols, with gunpowder and alcohol sauce."--See the _Adventures

of Baron Munchausen_, 12mo. 1792, p. 200; and _the horrible but

authentic account of_ ARDESOIF, in MOUBRAY'S _Treatise on Poultry_,

8vo. 1816, p. 18.

But the most extraordinary of all the culinary receipts that have

been under my eye, is the following diabolically cruel directions

of Mizald, "_how to roast and eat a goose alive_." "Take a GOOSE or

a DUCK, or some such _lively creature_, (but a goose is best of all

for this purpose,) pull off all her feathers, only the head and

neck must be spared: then make a fire round about her, not too

close to her, that the smoke do not choke her, and that the fire

may not burn her too soon; nor too far off, that she may not escape

free: within the circle of the fire let there be set small cups and

pots full of water, wherein salt and honey are mingled: and let

there be set also chargers full of sodden apples, cut into small

pieces in the dish. The goose must be all larded, and basted over

with butter, to make her the more fit to be eaten, and may roast

the better: put then fire about her, but do not make too much

haste, when as you see her begin to roast; for by walking about,

and flying here and there, being cooped in by the fire that stops

her way out, the unwearied goose is kept in; she will fall to drink

the water to quench her thirst and cool her heart, and all her

body, and the apple-sauce will make her dung, and cleanse and empty

her. And when she roasteth, and consumes inwardly, always wet her

head and heart with a wet sponge; and when you see her giddy with

running, and begin to stumble, her heart wants moisture, and she is

roasted enough. Take her up, set her before your guests, and she

will cry as you cut off any part from her, and will be almost eaten

up before she be dead; it is mighty pleasant to behold!!"--See

WECKER'S _Secrets of Nature_, in folio, London, 1660, p. 148.

309.[33-*]

"We suppose Mr. Mizald stole this receipt from the kitchen of his

infernal majesty; probably it might have been one of the dishes the

devil ordered when he invited Nero and Caligula to a feast."--_A.

C., Jun._

This is also related in BAPTISTA PORTA'S _Natural Magicke_, fol.

1658, p. 321. This very curious (but not scarce) book contains,

among other strange tricks and fancies of "the Olden Time,"

directions, "_how to_ ROAST _and_ BOIL _a fowl at the same time, so

that one-half shall be_ ROASTED _and the other_ BOILED;" and "_if

you have a lacke of cooks, how to persuade a goose to roast

himselfe_!!"--See a second act of the above tragedy in page 80 of

the Gentleman's Magazine for January, 1809.

Many articles were in vogue in the 14th century, which are now

obsolete. We add the following specimens of the CULINARY AFFAIRS OF

DAYS OF YORE.

_Sauce for a goose, A.D. 1381._

"Take a faire panne, and set hit under the goose whill she rostes;

and kepe clene the grese that droppes thereof, and put thereto a

godele (good deal) of Wyn, and a litel vinegur, and verjus, and

onyons mynced, or garlek; then take the gottes (gut) of the goose

and slitte hom, and scrape hom clene in water and salt, and so wash

hom, and hack hom small, then do all this togedur in a piffenet

(pipkin), and do thereto raisinges of corance, and pouder of pepur

and of ginger, and of canell and hole clowes and maces, and let hit

boyle and serve hit forthe."

"That unwieldy marine animal the PORPUS was dressed in a variety of

modes, salted, roasted, stewed, &c. Our ancestors were not singular

in their partiality to it; I find, from an ingenious friend of

mine, that it is even now, A. D. 1790, sold in the markets of most

towns in Portugal; the flesh of it is intolerably hard and

rancid."--WARNER'S _Antiq. Cul._ 4to. p. 15.

"The SWAN[33-+] was also a dish of state, and in high fashion when

the elegance of the feast was estimated by the magnitude of the

articles of which it was composed; the number consumed at the Earl

of Northumberland's table, A. D. 1512, amounted to

twenty."--_Northumberland Household-book_, p. 108.

"The CRANE was a darling dainty in _William the Conqueror's_ time,

and so partial was that monarch to it, that when his prime

favourite, William Fitz-Osborne, the steward of the household,

served him with a crane scarcely half roasted, the king was so

highly exasperated, that he lifted up his fist, and would have

strucken him, had not _Eudo_ (appointed _Dapifer_ immediately

after) warded off the blow."--WARNER'S _Antiq. Cul._ p. 12.

SEALS, CURLEWS, HERONS, BITTERNS, and the PEACOCK, that noble bird,

"the food of lovers and the meat of lords," were also at this time

in high fashion, when the baronial entertainments were

characterized by a grandeur and pompous ceremonial, approaching

nearly to the magnificence of royalty; there was scarcely any royal

or noble feast without PECOKKES, which were stuffed with spices and

sweet herbs, roasted and served up whole, and covered after

dressing with the skin and feathers; the beak and comb gilt, and

the tail spread, and some, instead of the feathers, covered it with

leaf gold; it was a common dish on grand occasions, and continued

to adorn the English table till the beginning of the seventeenth

century.

In Massinger's play of "The City Madam," Holdfast, exclaiming

against city luxury, says, "three fat wethers bruised, to make

sauce for a single peacock."

This bird is one of those luxuries which were often sought, because

they were seldom found: its scarcity and external appearance are

its only recommendation; the meat of it is tough and tasteless.

Another favourite dish at the tables of our forefathers, was a PIE

of stupendous magnitude, out of which, on its being opened, a flock

of living birds flew forth, to the no small surprise and amusement

of the guests.

"Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie;

When the pie was open'd, the birds began to sing--

Oh! what a dainty dish--'t is fit for any king."

This was a common joke at an old English feast. These _animated_

pies were often introduced "to set on," as Hamlet says, "a quantity

of barren spectators to laugh;" there is an instance of a dwarf

undergoing such an _incrustation_. About the year 1630, king

Charles and his queen were entertained by the duke and dutchess of

Buckingham, at Burleigh on the Hill, on which occasion JEFFERY

HUDSON, _the dwarf_, was served up in a cold pie.--See WALPOLE'S

_Anecdotes of Painting_, vol. ii. p. 14.

The BARON OF BEEF was another favourite and substantial support of

old English hospitality.

Among the most polished nations of the 15th and 16th centuries, the

_powdered_ (salted) _horse_, seems to have been a dish in some

esteem: _Grimalkin_ herself could not escape the undistinguishing

fury of the cook. Don Anthony of Guevera, the chronicler to Charles

V., gives the following account of a feast at which he was present.

"I will tell you no lye, I sawe such kindes of meates eaten, as are

wont to be sene, but not eaten--_as a_ HORSE _roasted_--a CAT _in

gely_--LYZARDS in hot brothe, FROGGES fried," &c.

While we are thus considering the curious dishes of olden times, we

will cursorily mention the _singular diet_ of two or three nations

of antiquity, noticed by _Herodotus_, lib. iv. "The _Androphagi_

(the cannibals of the ancient world) greedily devoured the

carcasses of their fellow-creatures; while the inoffensive _Cabri_

(a Scythian tribe) found both food and drink in the agreeable nut

of the Pontic tree. The _Lotophagi_ lived entirely on the fruit of

the _Lotus tree_. The savage _Troglodyte_ esteemed a _living

serpent_ the most delicate of all morsels; while the capricious

palate of the _Zyguntini_ preferred the _ape_ to every

thing."--Vide WARNER'S _Antiq. Cul._ p. 135.

"The Romans, in the luxurious period of their empire, took five

meals a day; a breakfast (_jentaculum_;) a dinner, which was a

light meal without any formal preparation (_prandium_); a kind of

_tea_, as we should call it, between dinner and supper (_merenda_);

a supper (_cæna_), which was their great meal, and commonly

consisted of two courses; the first of meats, the second, what we

call a dessert; and a posset, or something delicious after supper

(_commissatio_)."--ADAM'S _Rom. Antiq._ 2d edition, 8vo. 1792, p.

434 and 447.

"The Romans usually began their entertainments with eggs, and ended

with fruits; hence, AB OVO USQUE AD MALA, from the beginning to the

end of supper, _Horat. Sat._ i. 3. 6; _Cic. Fam._ ix. 20.

"The dishes (_edulia_) held in the highest estimation by the Romans,

are enumerated, _Gell._ vii. 16, _Macrob. Sat._ ii. 9, _Martial._ v.

79, ix. 48, xi. 53, &c., a peacock (PAVO), _Horat. Sat._ ii. 2. 23,

_Juvenal._ i. 143, first used by Hortensius, the orator, at a

supper, which he gave when admitted into the college of priests,

(_aditiali cænd sacerdotii_,) Plin. x. 20, s. 23; a pheasant,

(PHASIANA, _ex_ Phasi. _Colchidis fluvio_,) Martial. iii. 58, xiii.

72, Senec. ad Helv. 9, Petron. 79, Manil. v. 372; a bird called

_Attagen_ vel-_ena_, from Ionia or Phrygia, _Horat. Epod._ ii. 54,

_Martial._ xiii. iii. 61, a guinea-hen, (_avis Afra_, Horat. ib.

_Gallina Numidica_ vel _Africana_, Juvenal, xi. 142, Martial, xiii.

73); a Melian crane; an Ambracian kid; nightingales, _lusciniæ_;

thrushes, _turdi_; ducks, geese, &c. TOMACULUM, (~a temnô~,) _vel_

ISICIUM, (ab _inseco_;) sausages or puddings, _Juvenal._ x. 355.

_Martial._ 42. 9, _Petron._ 31."--Vide _ibid._ p. 447.

That the English reader may be enabled to form some idea of the

heterogeneous messes with which the Roman palate was delighted, I

introduce the following receipt from _Apicius_.

"THICK SAUCE FOR A BOILED CHICKEN.--Put the following ingredients

into a mortar: aniseed, dried mint, and lazar-root (similar to

assafoetida), cover them with vinegar; add dates; pour in

liquamen, oil, and a small quantity of mustard seeds; reduce all to

a proper thickness with port wine warmed; and then pour this same

over your chicken, which should previously be boiled in anise-seed

water."

_Liquamen_ and _Garum_ were synonymous terms for the same thing;

the former adopted in the room of the latter, about the age of

_Aurelian_. It was a liquid, and thus prepared: the _guts_ of large

fish, and a variety of small fish, were put into a vessel and well

salted, and exposed to the sun till they became putrid. A liquor

was produced in a short time, which being strained off, was the

_liquamen_.--Vide LISTER _in Apicium_, p. 16, notes.

_Essence of anchovy_, as it is usually made for sale, when it has

been opened about ten days, is not much unlike the Roman

_liquamen_. See No. 433. Some suppose it was the same thing as the

Russian _Caviar_, which is prepared from the roe of the sturgeon.

The BLACK BROTH of _Lacedæmon_ will long continue to excite the

wonder of the philosopher, and the disgust of the epicure. What the

ingredients of this sable composition were, we cannot exactly

ascertain. _Jul. Pollux_ says, the Lacedæmonian black broth was

_blood_, thickened in a certain way: Dr. LISTER (_in Apicium_)

supposes it to have been _hog's blood_; if so, this celebrated

Spartan dish bore no very distant resemblance to the

_black-puddings_ of our days. It could not be a very _alluring_

mess, since a citizen of _Sybaris_ having tasted it, declared it

was no longer a matter of astonishment with him, why the _Spartans_

were so fearless of death, since any one in his senses would much

rather die, than exist on such execrable food.--Vide _Athenæum_,

lib. iv. c. 3. When Dionysius the tyrant had tasted the _black

broth_, he exclaimed against it as miserable stuff; the cook

replied--"It was no wonder, for the sauce was wanting." "What

sauce?" says Dionysius. The answer was,--"_Labour and exercise,

hunger and thirst, these are the sauces we Lacedæmonians use_," and

they make the coarsest fare agreeable.--CICERO, 3 Tuscul.

FOOTNOTES:

[15-*] "The STOMACH is the grand organ of the human system, upon

the state of which all the powers and feelings of the individual

depend."--_See_ HUNTER'S _Culina_, p. 13.

"The faculty the stomach has of communicating the impressions made by

the various substances that are put into it, is such, that it seems more

like a nervous expansion of the brain, than a mere receptacle for

food."--Dr. WATERHOUSE'S _Lecture on Health_, p. 4.

[17-*] I wish most heartily that the restorative process was performed

by us poor mortals in as easy and simple a manner as it is in "_the

cooking animals in the moon_," who "lose no time at their meals; but

open their left side, and place the whole quantity at once in their

stomachs, then shut it, till the same day in the next month, for they

never indulge themselves with food more than twelve times in a

year."--_See_ BARON MUNCHAUSEN'S _Travels_, p. 188.

Pleasing the palate is the main end in most books of cookery, but _it is

my aim to blend the toothsome with the wholesome_; but, after all,

however the hale gourmand may at first differ from me in opinion, the

latter is the chief concern; since if he be even so entirely devoted to

the pleasure of eating as to think of no other, still the care of his

health becomes part of that; if he is sick he cannot relish his food.

"The term _gourmand_, or EPICURE, has been strangely perverted; it has

been conceived synonymous with a glutton, '_né pour la digestion_,' who

will eat as long as he can sit, and drink longer than he can stand, nor

leave his cup while he can lift it; or like the great eater of Kent whom

FULLER places among his worthies, and tells us that he did eat with ease

_thirty dozens of pigeons_ at one meal; at another, _fourscore rabbits_

and _eighteen yards of black pudding_, London measure!--or a fastidious

appetite, only to be excited by fantastic dainties, as the brains of

_peacocks_ or _parrots_, the tongues of _thrushes_ or _nightingales_, or

the teats of a lactiferous _sow_.

"In the acceptation which I give to the term EPICURE, it means only the

person who has good sense and good taste enough to wish to have his food

cooked according to scientific principles; that is to say, so prepared

that the palate be not offended--that it be rendered easy of solution in

the stomach, and ultimately contribute to health; exciting him as an

animal to the vigorous enjoyment of those recreations and duties,

physical and intellectual, which constitute the happiness and dignity of

his nature." For this illustration I am indebted to my scientific friend

_Apicius Cælius, Jun._, with whose erudite observations several pages of

this work are enriched, to which I have affixed the signature _A. C.,

Jun._

[18-*] "Although AIR is more immediately necessary to life than FOOD,

the knowledge of the latter seems of more importance; it admits

certainly of great variety, and a choice is more frequently in our

power. A very spare and simple diet has commonly been recommended as

most conducive to health; but it would be more beneficial to mankind if

we could show them that a pleasant and varied diet was equally

consistent with health, as the very strict regimen of Arnard, or the

miller of Essex. These, and other abstemious people, who, having

experienced the greatest extremities of bad health, were driven to

temperance as their last resource, may run out in praises of a simple

diet; but the probability is, that nothing but the dread of former

sufferings could have given them the resolution to persevere in so

strict a course of abstinence, which persons who are in health and have

no such apprehension could not be induced to undertake, or, if they did,

would not long continue.

"In all cases, great allowance must be made for the weakness of human

nature: the desires and appetites of mankind must, to a certain degree,

be gratified, and the man who wishes to be most useful will imitate the

indulgent parent, who, while he endeavours to promote the true interests

of his children, allows them the full enjoyment of all those innocent

pleasures which they take delight in. If it could be pointed out to

mankind that some articles used as food were hurtful, while others were

in their nature innocent, and that the latter were numerous, various,

and pleasant, they might, perhaps, be induced to forego those which were

hurtful, and confine themselves to those which were innocent."--_See_

Dr. STARK'S _Experiments on Diet_, pp. 89 and 90.

[19-*] See a curious account in COURS GASTRONOMIQUE, p. 145, and in

Anacharsis' Travels, Robinson, 1796, vol. ii. p. 58, and _Obs._ and note

under No. 493.

[19-+] See the 2d, 3d, and 4th pages of Sir WM. TEMPLE'S _Essay on the

Cure of the Gout by Moxa_.

[20-*] "He that would have a _clear head_, must have a _clean

stomach_."--Dr. CHEYNE _on Health_, 8vo. 1724, p. 34.

"It is sufficiently manifest how much uncomfortable feelings of the

bowels affect the nervous system, and how immediately and completely the

general disorder is relieved by an alvine evacuation."--p. 53.

"We cannot reasonably expect tranquillity of the nervous system, while

there is disorder of the digestive organs. As we can perceive no

permanent source of strength but from the digestion of our food, it

becomes important on this account that we should attend to its quantity,

quality, and the periods of taking it, with a view to ensure its proper

digestion."--ABERNETHY'S _Sur. Obs._ 8vo. 1817, p. 65.

[20-+] "If science can really contribute to the happiness of mankind, it

must be in this department; the real comfort of the majority of men in

this country is sought for at their own fireside; how desirable does it

then become to give every inducement to be at home, by directing all the

means of philosophy to increase domestic happiness!"--SYLVESTER'S

_Philosophy of Domestic Economy_, 4to. 1819, p. 17.

[20-++] The best books of cookery have been written by physicians.--Sir

KENELME DIGBY--Sir THEODORE MAYERNE.--See the last quarter of page 304

of vol. x. of the _Phil. Trans._ for 1675.--Professor BRADLEY--Dr.

HILL--Dr. LE COINTE--Dr. HUNTER, &c.

"To understand the THEORY OF COOKERY, we must attend to the action of

heat upon the various constituents of alimentary substances as applied

directly and indirectly through the medium of some fluid, in the former

way as exemplified." In the processes of ROASTING and BOILING, the chief

constituents of animal substances undergo the following changes--the

_fibrine_ is corrugated, the _albumen_ coagulated, the _gelatine_ and

_osmazome_ rendered more soluble in water, the _fat_ liquefied, and the

_water_ evaporated.

"If the heat exceed a certain degree, the surface becomes first brown,

and then scorched. In consequence of these changes, the muscular fibre

becomes opaque, shorter, firmer, and drier; the tendons less opaque,

softer, and gluey; the fat is either melted out, or rendered

semi-transparent. Animal fluids become more transparent: the albumen is

coagulated and separated, and they dissolve gelatine and osmazome.

"Lastly, and what is the most important change, and the immediate object

of all cookery, the meat loses the vapid nauseous smell and taste

peculiar to its raw state, and it becomes savoury and grateful.

"Heat applied through the intervention of boiling oil, or melted fat, as

in FRYING, produces nearly the same changes; as the heat is sufficient

to evaporate the water, and to induce a degree of scorching.

"But when water is the medium through which heat is applied--as in

BOILING, STEWING, and BAKING, the effects are somewhat different, as the

heat never exceeds 212°, which is not sufficient to commence the process

of browning or decomposition, and the soluble constituents are removed

by being dissolved in the water, forming soup or broth; or, if the

direct contact of the water be prevented, they are dissolved in the

juices of the meat, and separate in the form of gravy."

Vide Supplement to _Encyclop. Brit. Edin._ vol. iv. p. 344, the article

"FOOD," to which we refer our reader as the most scientific paper on the

subject we have seen.

[21-*] "Health, beauty, strength, and spirits, and I might add all the

faculties of the mind, depend upon the organs of the body; when these

are in good order, the thinking part is most alert and active, the

contrary when they are disturbed or diseased."--Dr. CADOGAN _on Nursing

Children_, 8vo. 1757, p. 5.

[22-*] "We have some good families in England of the name of _Cook_ or

_Coke_. I know not what they may think; but they may depend upon it,

they all originally sprang from real and professional cooks; and they

need not be ashamed of their extraction, any more than the _Parkers,

Butlers, &c._"--Dr. PEGGE'S _Forme of Cury_, p. 162.

[22-+] It is said, there are SEVEN _chances against even the most simple

dish being presented to the mouth in absolute perfection_; for instance,

A LEG OF MUTTON.

1st.--The mutton must be _good_. 2d.--Must have been kept a _good_ time.

3d.--Must be roasted at a _good_ fire. 4th.--By a _good_ cook. 5th.--Who

must be in _good_ temper. 6th.--With all this felicitous combination you

must have _good_ luck; and, 7th.--_Good_ appetite.--The meat, and the

mouths which are to eat it, must be ready for action at the same moment.

[23-*] To guard against "_la gourmandise_" of the second table, "provide

each of your servants with a large pair of spectacles of the highest

magnifying power, and never permit them to sit down to any meal without

wearing them; they are as necessary, and as useful in a kitchen as pots

and kettles: they will make a _lark_ look as large as a FOWL, a _goose_

as big as a SWAN, a leg of mutton as large as a hind quarter of beef; a

twopenny loaf as large as a quartern;" and as philosophers assure you

that pain even is only imaginary, we may justly believe the same of

hunger; and if a servant who eats no more than one pound of food,

imagines, by the aid of these glasses, that he has eaten three pounds,

his hunger will be as fully satisfied--and the addition to your

optician's account, will soon be overpaid by the subtraction from your

butcher's and baker's.

[25-*] Much real reformation might be effected, and most grateful

services obtained, if families which consist wholly of females, would

take servants recommended from the MAGDALEN--PENITENTIARY--or

GUARDIAN--who seek to be restored to virtuous society.

"_Female servants_ who pursue an honest course, have to travel, in their

peculiar orbit, through a more powerfully resisting medium than perhaps

any other class of people in civilized life; they should be treated with

something like Christian kindness: for want of this, a fault which might

at the time have been easily amended has become the source of

interminable sorrow."

"By the clemency and benevolent interference of two mistresses known to

the writer, two servants have become happy wives, who, had they been in

some situations, would have been literally outcasts."

A most laudable SOCIETY for the ENCOURAGEMENT of FEMALE SERVANTS, by a

gratuitous registry, and by rewards, was instituted in 1813; plans of

which may be had _gratis_ at the Society's House, No. 10, Hatton Garden.

The above is an extract from the REV. H. G. WATKINS'S _Hints to Heads of

Families_, a work well deserving the attentive consideration of

inexperienced housekeepers.

[26-*] The greatest care should be taken by the man of fashion, that his

cook's health be preserved: one hundredth part of the attention usually

bestowed on his dog, or his horse, will suffice to regulate her animal

system.

"Cleanliness, and a proper ventilation to carry off smoke and steam,

should be particularly attended to in the construction of a kitchen; the

grand scene of action, the fire-place, should be placed where it may

receive plenty of light; hitherto the contrary has prevailed, and the

poor cook is continually basted with her own perspiration."--_A. C.,

Jun._

"The most experienced artists in cookery cannot be certain of their work

without tasting: they must be incessantly tasting. The spoon of a good

cook is continually passing from the stewpan to his tongue; nothing but

frequent tasting his sauces, ragoûts, &c. can discover to him what

progress they have made, or enable him to season a soup with any

certainty of success; his palate, therefore, must be in the highest

state of excitability, that the least fault may be perceived in an

instant.

"But, alas! the constant empyreumatic fumes of the stoves, the necessity

of frequent drinking, and often of bad beer, to moisten a parched

throat; in short, every thing around him conspires quickly to vitiate

the organs of taste; the palate becomes blunted; its quickness of

feeling and delicacy, on which the sensibility of the organs of taste

depends, grows daily more obtuse; and in a short time the gustatory

nerve becomes quite unexcitable.

"IF YOU FIND YOUR COOK NEGLECT HIS BUSINESS--that his _ragoûts_ are too

highly spiced or salted, and his cookery has too much of the '_haut

goût_,' you may be sure that _his index of taste_ wants regulating; his

palate has lost its sensibility, and it is high time to call in the

assistance of the apothecary.

"'_Purger souvent_' is the grand maxim in all kitchens where _le Maître

d'Hôtel_ has any regard for the reputation of his table. _Les Bons

Hommes de Bouche_ submit to the operation without a murmur; to bind

others, it should be made the first condition in hiring them. Those who

refuse, prove they were not born to become masters of their art; and

their indifference to fame will rank them, as they deserve, among those

slaves who pass their lives in as much obscurity as their own stewpans."

To the preceding observations from the "_Almanach des Gourmands_," we

may add, that the _Mouthician_ will have a still better chance of

success, if he can prevail on his master to observe the same _régime_

which he orders for his cook; or, instead of endeavouring to awaken an

idle appetite by reading the index to a cookery book, or an additional

use of the pepper-box and salt-cellar, rather seek it from abstinence or

exercise;--the philosophical _gourmand_ will consider that the edge of

our appetite is generally keen, in proportion to the activity of our

other habits; let him attentively peruse our "PEPTIC PRECEPTS," &c.

which briefly explain the art of refreshing the gustatory nerves, and of

invigorating the whole system. See in the following chapter on

INVITATIONS TO DINNER--A recipe to make FORTY PERISTALTIC PERSUADERS.

[27-*] "She must be quick and strong of sight; her hearing most acute,

that she may be sensible when the contents of her vessels bubble,

although they be closely covered, and that she may be alarmed before the

pot boils over; her auditory nerve ought to discriminate (when several

saucepans are in operation at the same time) the simmering of one, the

ebullition of another, and the full-toned wabbling of a third.

"It is imperiously requisite that her organ of smell be highly

susceptible of the various effluvia, that her nose may distinguish the

perfection of aromatic ingredients, and that in animal substances it

shall evince a suspicious accuracy between tenderness and putrefaction;

above all, her olfactories should be tremblingly alive to mustiness and

empyreuma.

"It is from the exquisite sensibility of her palate, that we admire and

judge of the cook; from the alliance between the olfactory and sapid

organs, it will be seen that their perfection is indispensable."--_A.

C., Jun._

[28-*] A facetious _gourmand_ suggests that the old story of "lighting a

candle to the devil," probably arose from this adage--and was an

offering presented to his infernal majesty by some epicure who was in

want of a cook.

[29-*] "A gentlewoman being at table, abroad or at home, must observe to

keep her body straight, and lean not by any means with her elbows, nor

by ravenous gesture discover a voracious appetite: talk not when you

have _meat_ in your _mouth_; and do not smack like _a pig_, nor venture

to eat _spoonmeat_ so hot that the tears stand in your eyes, which is as

unseemly as the _gentlewoman_ who pretended to have as little a

_stomach_ as she had a _mouth_, and therefore would not swallow her

_pease_ by spoonfuls; but took them one by one, and cut them in two

before she would eat them. It is very uncomely to drink so large a

_draught_ that your _breath_ is almost gone--and are forced to blow

strongly to recover yourself--throwing down your _liquor_ as into a

_funnel_ is an action fitter for a juggler than a _gentlewoman_: thus

much for your observations in general; if I am defective as to

particulars, your own _prudence, discretion, and curious observations_

will supply."

"In CARVING at your own _table_, distribute the best pieces first, and

it will appear very comely and decent to use a _fork_; so touch no piece

of _meat_ without it."

"_Mem._ The English are indebted to TOM CORYAT for introducing THE FORK,

for which they called him _Furcifer_."--See his _Crudities_, vol. i. p.

106.--Edit. 1776, 8vo.

[30-*] "Almost all arts and sciences are more or less encumbered with

vulgar errors and prejudices, which avarice and ignorance have

unfortunately sufficient influence to preserve, by help (or hindrance)

of mysterious, undefinable, and not seldom unintelligible, technical

terms--Anglicè, nicknames--which, instead of enlightening the subject it

is professedly pretended they were invented to illuminate, serve but to

shroud it in almost impenetrable obscurity; and, in general, so

extravagantly fond are the professors of an art of keeping up all the

pomp, circumstance, and mystery of it, and of preserving the accumulated

prejudices of ages past undiminished, that one might fairly suppose

those who have had the courage and perseverance to overcome these

obstacles, and penetrate the veil of science, were delighted with

placing difficulties in the way of those who may attempt to follow them,

on purpose to deter them from the pursuit, and that they cannot bear

others should climb the hill of knowledge by a readier road than they

themselves did: and such is _l'esprit de corps_, that as their

predecessors supported themselves by serving it out _gradatim et

stillatim_, and retailing with a sparing hand the information they so

hardly obtained, they find it convenient to follow their example: and,

willing to do as they have been done by, leave and bequeath the

inheritance undiminished to those who may succeed them."--See p. 10 of

Dr. KITCHINER _on Telescopes_, 12mo. 1825, printed for Whittaker, Ave

Maria Lane.

[32-*] "In the present language of cookery, there has been a woful

departure from the simplicity of our ancestors,--such a farrago of

unappropriate and unmeaning terms, many corrupted from the French,

others disguised from the Italian, some misapplied from the German,

while many are a disgrace to the English. What can any person suppose to

be the meaning of _a shoulder of lamb in epigram_, unless it were a poor

dish, for a pennyless poet? _Aspect of fish_, would appear calculated

for an astrologer; and _shoulder of mutton surprised_, designed for a

sheep-stealer."--_A. C., Jun._

[33-*] See note to No. 59 how to plump the liver of a goose.

[33-+] "It is a curious illustration of the _de gustibus non eat

disputandum_, that the ancients considered the _swan_ as a high

delicacy, and abstained from the flesh of the _goose_ as impure and

indigestible."--MOUBRAY _on Poultry_, p. 36.

INVITATIONS TO DINNER

In "the affairs of the mouth" the strictest punctuality is

indispensable; the GASTRONOMER ought to be as accurate an observer of

time, as the ASTRONOMER. The least delay produces fatal and irreparable

misfortunes.

Almost all other ceremonies and civil duties may be put off for several

hours without much inconvenience, and all may be postponed without

absolute danger. A little delay may try the patience of those who are

waiting; but the act itself will be equally perfect and equally valid.

Procrastination sometimes is rather advantageous than prejudicial. It

gives time for reflection, and may prevent our taking a step which would

have made us miserable for life; the delay of a courier has prevented

the conclusion of a convention, the signing of which might have

occasioned the ruin of a nation.

If, from affairs the most important, we descend to our pleasures and

amusements, we shall find new arguments in support of our assertions.

The putting off of a rendezvous, or a ball, &c. will make them the more

delightful. To _hope_ is to _enjoy_.

"Man never is, but always to be blest."

The anticipation of pleasure warms our imagination, and keeps those

feelings alive, which possession too often extinguishes.

"'Tis _expectation_ only makes us blest;

_Enjoyment_ disappoints us at the best."

Dr. Johnson has most sagaciously said; "Such is the state of life, that

none are happy, but by the anticipation of change: the change itself is

nothing: when we have made it, the next wish is, immediately to change

again."

However singular our assertions may have at first appeared to those who

have not considered the subject, we hope by this time we have made

converts of our readers, and convinced the "_Amateurs de Bonne Chère_"

of the truth and importance of our remarks; and that they will remember,

that DINNER is the only act of the day which cannot be put off with

impunity, for even FIVE MINUTES.

In a well-regulated family, all the clocks and watches should agree; on

this depends the fate of the dinner; what would be agreeable to the

stomach, and restorative to the system, if served at FIVE o'clock, will

be uneatable and innutritive and indigestible at A QUARTER PAST.

The dining-room should be furnished with a good-going clock; the space

over the kitchen fire-place with another, vibrating in unison with the

former, so placed, that the cook may keep one eye on the clock, and the

other on the spit, &c. She will calculate to a minute the time required

to roast a large capon or a little lark, and is equally attentive to the

degree of heat of her stove, and the time her sauce remains on it, when

to withdraw the bakings from the oven, the roast from the spit, and the

stew from the pan.

With all our love of punctuality, the first consideration must still be,

that the dinner "be well done, when 't is done."

It is a common fault with cooks who are anxious about time, to overdress

every thing--the guests had better wait than the dinner--a little delay

will improve their appetite; but if the dinner waits for the guests, it

will be deteriorated every minute: the host who wishes to entertain his

friends with food perfectly well dressed, while he most earnestly

endeavours to impress on their minds the importance of being punctual to

the appointed hour, will still allow his cook a quarter of an hour's

grace.

The old adage that "the eye is often bigger than the belly," is often

verified by the ridiculous vanity of those who wish to make an

appearance above their fortune. Nothing can be more ruinous to real

comfort than the too common custom of setting out a table, with a parade

and a profusion, unsuited not only to the circumstances of the hosts,

but to the number of the guests; or more fatal to true hospitality, than

the multiplicity of dishes which luxury has made fashionable at the

tables of the great, the wealthy, and the ostentatious, who are, often,

neither great nor wealthy.

Such pompous preparation, instead of being a compliment to our guests,

is nothing better than an indirect offence; it is a tacit insinuation,

that it is absolutely necessary to provide such delicacies to bribe the

depravity of their palates, when we desire the pleasure of their

company; and that society now, must be purchased, at the same price

SWIFT told POPE he was obliged to pay for it in Ireland. "I should

hardly prevail to find one visiter, if I were not able to hire him with

a bottle of wine." Vide Swift's letters to Pope, July 10th, 1732.

When twice as much cooking is undertaken as there are servants, or

conveniences in the kitchen to do it properly, dishes must be dressed

long before the dinner hour, and stand by spoiling--the poor cook loses

her credit, and the poor guests get indigestions. Why prepare for eight

or ten friends, more than sufficient for twenty or thirty visiters?

"Enough is as good as a feast," and a prudent provider, who sensibly

takes measure of the stomachic, instead of the SILLY ocular, appetite of

his guests, may entertain his friends, three times as often, and ten

times as well.

It is your SENSELESS SECOND COURSES--ridiculous variety of WINES,

LIQUEURS, ICES,[38-*] DESSERTS, &c.--which are served up merely to feed

the eye, or pamper palled appetite, that _overcome the stomach and

paralyze digestion_, and seduce "children of a larger growth" to

sacrifice the health and comfort of several days, for the baby-pleasure

of tickling their tongue for a few minutes, with trifles and custards!!!

&c. &c.

"INDIGESTION will sometimes overtake the most experienced epicure; when

the gustatory nerves are in good humour, hunger and savoury viands will

sometimes seduce the tongue of a '_grand gourmand_' to betray the

interests of his stomach in spite of his brains.

"On such an unfortunate occasion, when the stomach sends forth

eructant[38-+] signals of distress, the _peristaltic persuaders_ are as

agreeable and effectual assistance as can be offered; and for delicate

constitutions, and those that are impaired by age or intemperance, are a

valuable panacea.

"They derive, and deserve this name, from the peculiar mildness of their

operation. One or two very gently increase the action of the principal

viscera, help them to do their work a little faster, and enable the

stomach to serve with an ejectment whatever offends it, and move it into

the bowels.

"Thus _indigestion_ is easily and speedily removed, _appetite_ restored,

the mouths of the absorbing vessels being cleansed, _nutrition_ is

facilitated, and _strength_ of body, and _energy_ of mind, are the happy

results." See "PEPTIC PRECEPTS," from which we extract the following

prescription--

To make FORTY PERISTALTIC PERSUADERS,

Take

Turkey rhubarb, finely pulverized, two drachms,

Syrup (by weight), one drachm,

Oil of carraway, ten drops (minims),

Made into pills, each of which will contain _three grains of rhubarb_.

"The DOSE OF THE PERSUADERS must be adapted to the constitutional

peculiarity of the patient. When you wish to accelerate or augment the

alvine exoneration, take two, three, or more, according to the effect

you desire to produce. _Two pills_ will do as much for one person, as

_five or six_ will for another: they will generally very regularly

perform what you wish to-day, without interfering with what you hope

will happen to-morrow; and are therefore as convenient an argument

against constipation as any we are acquainted with.

"The most convenient opportunity to introduce them to the stomach, is

early in the morning, when it is unoccupied, and has no particular

business of digestion, &c. to attend to--i. e. at least half an hour

before breakfast. Physic must never interrupt the stomach, when it is

busy in digesting food.

"From two to four persuaders will generally produce one additional

motion, within twelve hours. They may be taken at any time by the most

delicate females, whose constitutions are so often distressed by

constipation, and destroyed by the drastic purgatives they take to

relieve it."

The cloth[39-*] should be laid in the parlour, and all the paraphernalia

of the dinner-table completely arranged, at least half an hour before

dinner-time.

The cook's labour will be lost, if the parlour-table be not ready for

action, and the eaters ready for the eatables, which the least delay

will irreparably injure: therefore, the GOURMAND will be punctual for

the sake of gratifying his ruling passion; the INVALID, to avoid the

danger of encountering an _indigestion_ from eating ill-dressed food;

and the RATIONAL EPICURE, who happily attends the banquet with "_mens

sana in corpore sano_," will keep the time not only for these strong

reasons, but that he may not lose the advantage of being introduced to

the other guests. He considers not only what is on the table, but who

are around it: his principal inducement to leave his own fireside, is

the charm of agreeable and instructive society, and the opportunity of

making connexions, which may augment the interest and enjoyment of

existence.

It is the most pleasing part of the duty of the master of the feast

(especially when the guests are not very numerous), to take advantage of

these moments to introduce them to one another, naming them individually

in an audible voice, and adroitly laying hold of those ties of

acquaintanceship or profession which may exist between them.

This will much augment the pleasures of the festive board, to which it

is indeed as indispensable a prelude, as an overture is to an opera: and

the host will thus acquire an additional claim to the gratitude of his

guests. We urge this point more strongly, because, from want of

attention to it, we have seen more than once persons whom many kindred

ties would have drawn closely together, pass an entire day without

opening their lips to each other, because they were mutually ignorant of

each other's names, professions, and pursuits.

To put an end at once to all ceremony as to the order in which the

guests are to sit, it will save much time and trouble, if the mistress

of the mansion adopts the simple and elegant method of placing the name

of each guest in the plate which is intended for him. This proceeding

will be of course the result of consideration, and the host will place

those together whom he thinks will harmonize best.

_Le Journal des Dames_ informs us, that in several fashionable houses in

Paris, a new arrangement has been introduced in placing the company at a

dinner-table.

"The ladies first take their places, leaving intervals for the

gentlemen; after being seated, each is desired to call on a gentleman to

sit beside her; and thus the lady of the house is relieved from all

embarrassment of _étiquette_ as to rank and pretensions," &c.

But, without doubt, says the Journalist, this method has its

inconveniences.

"It may happen that a bashful beauty dare not name the object of her

secret wishes; and an acute observer may determine, from a single

glance, that the _elected_ is not always the _chosen_."

If the party is large, the founders of the feast may sit in the middle

of the table, instead of at each end, thus they will enjoy the pleasure

of attending equally to all their friends; and being in some degree

relieved from the occupation of carving, will have an opportunity of

administering all those little attentions which contribute so much to

the comfort of their guests.

If the GUESTS have any respect for their HOST, or prefer a well-dressed

dinner to one that is spoiled, instead of coming half an hour after,

they will take care to make their appearance a quarter of an hour before

the time appointed.

The operations of the cook are governed by the clock; the moment the

roasts, &c. are ready, they must go to the table, if they are to be

eaten in perfection.

An invitation to come at FIVE o'clock seems to be generally understood

to mean _six_; FIVE PRECISELY, _half past five_; and NOT LATER THAN FIVE

(so that dinner may be on the table within five minutes after, allowing

this for the variation of watches), FIVE O'CLOCK EXACTLY.

Be it known to all loyal subjects of the empire of good-living, that the

COMMITTEE OF TASTE have unanimously resolved, that "an invitation to

ETA. BETA. PI. must be in writing, and sent at least ten days before the

banquet; and must be answered in writing (as soon as possible after it

is received), within twenty-four hours at least," especially if it be

not accepted: then, in addition to the usual complimentary expressions

of thanks, &c. the best possible reasons must be assigned for the

non-acceptance, as a particular pre-engagement, or severe indisposition,

&c. Before the bearer of it delivers it, he should ascertain if the

person it is directed to is at home; if he is not, when he will be; and

if he is not in town, to bring the summons back.

Nothing can be more disobliging than a refusal which is not grounded on

some very strong and unavoidable cause,--except not coming at the

appointed hour;--"according to the laws of conviviality, a certificate

from a sheriff's officer, a doctor, or an undertaker, are the only pleas

which are admissible. The duties which invitation imposes do not fall

only on the persons invited, but, like all other social duties, are

reciprocal.

"As he who has accepted an invitation cannot disengage himself from it;

the master of the feast cannot put off the entertainment on any pretence

whatever. Urgent business, sickness, not even death itself, can dispense

with the obligation which he is under of giving the entertainment for

which he has sent out invitations, which have been accepted; for in the

extreme cases of compulsory absence, or death, his place may be filled

by his friend or executor."--_Vide le Manuel des Amphitryons_, 8vo.

_Paris_, 1808; and _Cours Gastronomique_, 1809; to which the reader is

referred for farther instructions.

It is the least punishment that a blundering, ill-bred booby can

receive, who comes half an hour after the time he was bidden, to find

the soup removed, and the fish cold: moreover, for such an offence, let

him also be _mulcted_ in a pecuniary penalty, to be applied to the FUND

FOR THE BENEFIT OF DECAYED COOKS. This is the least punishment that can

be inflicted on one whose silence, or violation of an engagement, tends

to paralyze an entertainment, and to draw his friend into useless

expense.

BOILEAU, the French satirist, has a shrewd observation on this subject.

"I have always been punctual at the hour of dinner," says the bard; "for

I knew, that all those whom I kept waiting at that provoking interval,

would employ those unpleasant moments to sum up all my faults.--BOILEAU

is indeed a man of genius, a very honest man; but that dilatory and

procrastinating way he has got into, would mar the virtues of an angel."

There are some who seldom keep an appointment: we can assure them they

as seldom "'scape without whipping," and exciting those murmurs which

inevitably proceed from the best-regulated stomachs, when they are

empty, and impatient to be filled.

The most amiable animals when hungry become ill-tempered: our best

friends employ the time they are kept waiting, in recollecting and

repeating any real faults we have, and attributing to us a thousand

imaginary ones.

Ill-bred beings, who indulge their own caprice, regardless how they

wound the feelings of others, if they possess brilliant and useful

talents, may occasionally be endured as convenient tools; but deceive

themselves sadly, even though they possess all the wisdom, and all the

wit in the world, if they fancy they can ever be esteemed as friends.

Wait for no one: as soon as the clock strikes, say grace, and begin the

business of the day,

"And good digestion wait on appetite,

And health on both."

MANNERS MAKE THE MAN.

Good manners have often made the fortune of many, who have had nothing

else to recommend them:

Ill manners have as often marred the hope of those who have had every

thing else to advance them.

These regulations may appear a little rigorous to those phlegmatic

philosophers,

"Who, past all pleasures, damn the joys of sense,

With rev'rend dulness and grave impotence,"

and are incapable of comprehending the importance (especially when many

are invited) of a truly hospitable entertainment: but genuine

_connoisseurs_ in the science of good cheer will vote us thanks for our

endeavours to initiate well-disposed _amateurs_.

CARVING.

Ceremony does not, in any thing, more commonly and completely triumph

over comfort, than in the administration of "the honours of the table."

Those who serve out the loaves and fishes seldom seem to understand that

he is the best carver who fills the plates of the greatest number of

guests, in the least portion of time.

To effect this, fill the plates and send them round, instead of asking

each individual if they choose soup, fish, &c. or what particular part

they prefer; for, as they cannot all be choosers, you will thus escape

making any invidious distinctions.

A dexterous CARVER[43-*] (especially if he be possessed with that

determined enemy to ceremony and sauce, a keen appetite,) will help half

a dozen people in half the time one of your would-be-thought polite

folks wastes in making civil faces, &c. to a single guest.

It would save a great deal of time, &c. if POULTRY, especially large

turkeys and geese, were sent to table ready cut up. (No. 530.*)

FISH that is fried should be previously divided into such portions as

are fit to help at table. (See No. 145.)

A prudent carver will cut fair,[43-+] observe an equitable distribution

of the dainties he is serving out, and regulate his helps, by the

proportion which his dish bears to the number he has to divide it among,

taking into this reckoning the _quantum_ of appetite the several guests

are presumed to possess.

"Study their genius, caprices, _goût_--

They, in return, may haply study you:

Some wish a pinion, some prefer a leg,

Some for a merry-thought, or sidesbone beg,

The wings of fowls, then slices of the round

The trail of woodcock, of codfish the sound.

Let strict impartiality preside,

Nor freak, nor favour, nor affection guide."

_From the_ BANQUET.

The guest who wishes to ensure a hearty welcome, and frequent invitation

to the board of hospitality, may calculate that the "easier he is

pleased, the oftener he will be invited." Instead of unblushingly

demanding of the fair hostess that the prime "_tit-bit_" of every dish

be put on your plate, receive (if not with pleasure, or even content)

with the liveliest expressions of thankfulness whatever is presented to

you, and forget not to praise the cook, and the same shall be reckoned

unto you even as the praise of the mistress.

The invalid or the epicure, when he dines out, to save trouble to his

friends, may carry with him a portable MAGAZINE OF TASTE. (See No. 462.)

"If he does not like his fare, he may console himself with the

reflection, that he need not expose his mouth to the like mortification

again: mercy to the feelings of the mistress of the mansion will forbid

his then appearing otherwise than absolutely delighted with it,

notwithstanding it may be his extreme antipathy."

"If he likes it ever so little, he will find occasion to congratulate

himself on the advantage his digestive organs will derive from his

making a moderate dinner, and consolation from contemplating the double

relish he is creating for the following meal, and anticipating the (to

him) rare and delicious zest of (that best sauce) good appetite, and an

unrestrained indulgence of his gormandizing fancies at the chop-house he

frequents."

"Never intrust a _cook-teaser_ with the important office of CARVER, or

place him within reach of _a sauce-boat_. These chop-house cormorants,

who

'Critique your wine, and analyze your meat,

Yet on plain pudding deign at home to eat,'

are, generally, tremendously officious in serving out the loaves and

fishes of other people; for, under the notion of appearing exquisitely

amiable, and killingly agreeable to the guests, they are ever on the

watch to distribute themselves the dainties which it is the peculiar

part of the master and mistress to serve out, and is to them the most

pleasant part of the business of the banquet: the pleasure of helping

their friends is the gratification, which is their reward for the

trouble they have had in preparing the feast. Such gentry are the terror

of all good housewives: to obtain their favourite cut they will so

unmercifully mangle your joints, that a dainty dog would hardly get a

meal from them after; which, managed by the considerative hands of an

old housekeeper, would furnish a decent dinner for a large

family."--Vide "_Almanach des Gourmands_."

I once heard a gentle hint on this subject, given to a _blue-mould

fancier_, who by looking too long at a Stilton cheese, was at last

completely overcome, by his eye exciting his appetite, till it became

quite ungovernable; and unconscious of every thing but the _mity_ object

of his contemplation, he began to pick out, in no small portions, the

primest parts his eye could select from the centre of the cheese.

The good-natured founder of the feast, highly amused at the ecstasies

each morsel created in its passage over the palate of the enraptured

_gourmand_, thus encouraged the perseverance of his guest--"Cut away, my

dear sir, cut away, use no ceremony, I pray: I hope you will pick out

all the best of my cheese. _Don't you think_ that THE RIND _and the_

ROTTEN _will do very well for my wife and family!!_" There is another

set of terribly _free and easy_ folks, who are "fond of taking

possession of the throne of domestic comfort," and then, with all the

impudence imaginable, simper out to the ousted master of the family,

"Dear me, I am afraid I have taken your place!"

_Half the trouble of_ WAITING AT TABLE _may be saved_ by giving each

guest two plates, two knives and forks, two pieces of bread, a spoon, a

wine-glass, and a tumbler, and placing the wines and sauces, and the

MAGAZINE OF TASTE, (No. 462,) &c. as a _dormant_, in the centre of the

table; one neighbour may then help another.

Dinner-tables are seldom sufficiently lighted, or attended. An active

waiter will have enough to do to attend upon half a dozen active eaters.

There should be about half as many candles as there are guests, and

their flame be about eighteen inches above the table. Our foolish

modern pompous candelabras seem intended to illuminate the ceiling,

rather than to give light on the plates, &c.

Wax lights at dinner are much more elegant, and not so troublesome and

so uncertain as lamps, nor so expensive; for to purchase a handsome lamp

will cost you more than will furnish you with wax candles for several

years.

FOOTNOTES:

[38-*] Swilling cold _soda water_ immediately after eating a hearty

dinner, is another very unwholesome custom--take good ginger beer if you

are thirsty, and don't like Sir John Barleycorn's cordial.

[38-+] _Strong peppermint or ginger lozenges_ are an excellent help for

that flatulence with which some aged and dyspeptic people ate afflicted

three or four hours after dinner.

[39-*] _Le Grand Sommelier_, or CHIEF BUTLER, in former times was

expected to be especially accomplished in the art of folding table

linen, so as to lay his napkins in different forms every day: these

transformations are particularly described in ROSE'S Instructions for

the Officers of the Mouth, 1682, p. 111, &c. "To pleat a napkin in the

form of a cockle-shell double"--"in the form of hen and

chickens"--"shape of two capons in a pye"--or "like a dog with a collar

about his neck"--and many others equally whimsical.

[43-*] In days of yore "_Le Grand Ecuyer Tranchant_," or the MASTER

CARVER, was the next officer of the mouth in rank to the "_Maître

d'Hôtel_," and the technical terms of his art were as singular as any of

those which ornament "Grose's Classical Slang Dictionary," or "The

Gipsies' Gibberish:" the only one of these old phrases now in common use

is, "cut up the TURKEY:"--we are no longer desired to "disfigure a

PEACOCK"--"unbrace a DUCK"--"unlace a CONEY"--"tame a CRAB"--"tire an

EGG"--and "spoil the HEN," &c.--See _Instructions for the Officers of

the Mouth_, by ROSE, 1682.

[43-+] Those in the parlour should recollect the importance of setting a

good example to their friends at the second table. If they cut _bread_,

_meat_, _cheese_, &c. FAIRLY, it will go twice as far as if they hack

and mangle it, as if they had not half so much consideration for those

in the kitchen as a good sportsman has for his dogs.

FRIENDLY ADVICE TO COOKS,[46-*] AND OTHER SERVANTS

On your first coming into a family, lose no time in immediately getting

into the good graces of your fellow-servants, that you may learn from

them the customs of the kitchen, and the various rules and orders of the

house.

Take care to be on good terms with the servant who waits at table; make

use of him as your sentinel, to inform you how your work has pleased in

the parlour: by his report you may be enabled in some measure to rectify

any mistake; but request the favour of an early interview with your

master or mistress: depend as little as possible on second-hand

opinions. Judge of your employers from YOUR OWN observations, and THEIR

behaviour to you, not from any idle reports from the other servants,

who, if your master or mistress inadvertently drop a word in your

praise, will immediately take alarm, and fearing your being more in

favour than themselves, will seldom stick at trifles to prevent it, by

pretending to take a prodigious liking to you, and poisoning your mind

in such a manner as to destroy all your confidence, &c. in your

employers; and if they do not immediately succeed in worrying you away,

will take care you have no comfort while you stay: be most cautious of

those who profess most: not only beware of believing such honey-tongued

folks, but beware as much of betraying your suspicions of them, for that

will set fire to the train at once, and of a doubtful friend make a

determined enemy.

If you are a good cook, and strictly do your duty, you will soon become

a favourite domestic; but never boast of the approbation of your

employers; for, in proportion as they think you rise in their

estimation, you will excite all the tricks, that envy, hatred, malice,

and all uncharitableness can suggest to your fellow-servants; every one

of whom, if less sober, honest, or industrious, or less favoured than

yourself, will be your enemy.

While we warn you against making others your enemies, take care that you

do not yourself become your own and greatest enemy. "Favourites are

never in greater danger of falling, than when in the greatest favour,"

which often begets a careless inattention to the commands of their

employers, and insolent overbearance to their equals, a gradual neglect

of duty, and a corresponding forfeiture of that regard which can only be

preserved by the means which created it.

"Those arts by which at first you gain it,

You still must practise to maintain it."

If your employers are so pleased with your conduct as to treat you as a

friend rather than a servant, do not let their kindness excite your

self-conceit, so as to make you for a moment forget you are one.

Condescension, even to a proverb, produces contempt in inconsiderate

minds; and to such, the very means which benevolence takes to cherish

attention to duty, becomes the cause of the evil it is intended to

prevent.

To be an agreeable companion in the kitchen, without compromising your

duty to your patrons in the parlour, requires no small portion of good

sense and good nature: in a word, you must "do as you would be done by."

ACT FOR, AND SPEAK OF, EVERY BODY AS IF THEY WERE PRESENT.

We hope the culinary student who peruses these pages will be above

adopting the common, mean, and ever unsuccessful way of "holding with

the hare, and running with the hounds," of currying favour with

fellow-servants by flattering them, and ridiculing the mistress when in

the kitchen, and then, prancing into the parlour and purring about her,

and making opportunities to display all the little faults you can find

(_or invent_) that will tell well against those in the kitchen; assuring

them, on your return, that they were _vraised_, for whatever you heard

them _blamed_, and so excite them to run more extremely into any little

error which you think will be most displeasing to their employers;

watching an opportunity to pour your poisonous lies into their

unsuspecting ears, when there is no third person to bear witness of your

iniquity; making your victims believe, it is all out of your _sincere

regard_ for them; assuring them (as Betty says in the man of the world,)

"That indeed you are no busybody that loves fending nor proving, but

hate all tittling and tattling, and gossiping and backbiting," &c. &c.

Depend upon it, if you hear your fellow-servants speak disrespectfully

of a master or a mistress with whom they have lived some time, it is a

sure sign that they have some sinister scheme against yourself; if they

have not been well treated, why have they stayed?

"There is nothing more detestable than defamation. I have no scruple to

rank a slanderer with a murderer or an assassin. Those who assault the

reputation of their benefactors, and 'rob you of that which nought

enriches them,' would destroy your life, if they could do it with equal

impunity."

"If you hope to gain the respect and esteem of others, and the

approbation of your own heart, be respectful and faithful to your

superiors, obliging and good-natured to your fellow-servants, and

charitable to all." You cannot be too careful to cultivate a meek and

gentle disposition; you will find the benefit of it every day of your

life: to promote peace and harmony around you, will not only render you

a general favourite with your fellow-servants, but will make you happy

in yourself.

"Let your _character_ be remarkable for industry and moderation; your

_manners_ and deportment, for modesty and humility; your _dress_

distinguished for simplicity, frugality, and neatness. A dressy servant

is a disgrace to a house, and renders her employers as ridiculous as she

does herself. If you outshine your companions in finery, you will

inevitably excite their envy, and make them your enemies."

"Do every thing at the proper time."

"Keep every thing in its proper place."

"Use every thing for its proper purpose."

The importance of these three rules must be evident, to all who will

consider how much easier it is to return any thing when done with to its

proper place, than it is to find it when mislaid; and it is as easy to

put things in one place as in another.

Keep your kitchen and furniture as clean and neat as possible, which

will then be an ornament to it, a comfort to your fellow-servants, and

a credit to yourself. Moreover, good housewifery is the best

recommendation to a good husband, and engages men to honourable

attachment to you; she who is a tidy servant gives promise of being a

careful wife.

_Giving away Victuals._

Giving away any thing without consent or privity of your master or

mistress, is a liberty you must not take; charity and compassion for the

wants of our fellow-creatures are very amiable virtues, but they are not

to be indulged at the expense of your own honesty, and other people's

property.

When you find that there is any thing to spare, and that it is in danger

of being spoiled by being kept too long, it is very commendable in you

to ask leave to dispose of it while it is fit for Christians to eat: if

such permission is refused, the sin does not lie at your door. But you

must on no account bestow the least morsel in contradiction to the will

of those to whom it belongs.

"Never think any part of your business too trifling to be well done."

"Eagerly embrace every opportunity of learning any thing which may be

useful to yourself, or of doing any thing which may benefit others."

Do not throw yourself out of a good place for a slight affront. "Come

when you are called, and do what you are bid." Place yourself in your

mistress's situation, and consider what you would expect from her, if

she were in yours; and serve, reverence, and obey her accordingly.

Although there may be "more places than parish-churches," it is not very

easy to find many more good ones.

"A rolling stone never gathers moss."

"Honesty is the best policy."

"A still tongue makes a wise head."

_Saucy answers_ are highly aggravating, and answer no good purpose.

Let your master or mistress scold ever so much, or be ever so

unreasonable; as "a soft answer turneth away wrath," "so will SILENCE be

_the best a servant can make_".

_One rude answer_, extorted perhaps by harsh words, or unmerited

censure, has cost many a servant the loss of a good place, or the total

forfeiture of a regard which had been growing for years.

"If your employers are hasty, and have scolded without reason, bear it

patiently; they will soon see their error, and not be happy till they

make you amends. Muttering on leaving the room, or slamming the door

after you, is as bad as an impertinent reply; it is, in fact, showing

that you would be impertinent if you dared."

"A faithful servant will not only never speak disrespectfully _to_ her

employers, but will not hear disrespectful words said _of_ them."

Apply direct to your employers, and beg of them to explain to you, as

fully as possible, how they like their victuals dressed, whether much or

little done.[50-*]

Of what complexion they wish the ROASTS, of a gold colour, or well

browned, and if they like them frothed?

Do they like SOUPS and SAUCES thick or thin, or white or brown, clean or

full in the mouth? What accompaniments they are partial to?

What flavours they fancy? especially of SPICE and HERBS:

"Namque coquus domini debet habere gulam."--MARTIAL.

It is impossible that the most accomplished cook can please their

palates, till she has learned their particular taste: this, it will

hardly be expected, she can hit exactly the first time; however, the

hints we have here given, and in the 7th and 8th chapters of the

Rudiments of Cookery, will very much facilitate the ascertainment of

this main chance of getting into their favour.

Be extremely cautious of seasoning high: leave it to the eaters to add

the piquante condiments, according to their own palate and fancy: for

this purpose, "THE MAGAZINE OF TASTE," or "_Sauce-box_," (No. 462,) will

be found an invaluable acquisition; its contents will instantaneously

produce any flavour that may be desired.

"De gustibus non est disputandum."

Tastes are as different as faces; and without a most attentive

observation of the directions given by her employers, the most

experienced cook will never be esteemed a profound palatician.

It will not go far to pacify the rage of a ravenous _gourmand_, who

likes his chops broiled brown, (and done enough, so that they can appear

at table decently, and not blush when they are cut,) to be told that

some of the customers at Dolly's chop-house choose to have them only

half-done, and that this is the best way of eating them.

We all think that is the best way which we relish best, and which agrees

best with our stomach: in this, reason and fashion, all-powerful as they

are on most occasions, yield to the imperative caprice of the palate.

_Chacun à son goût._

"THE IRISHMAN loves _Usquebaugh_, the SCOT loves ale call'd _Blue-cap_,

The WELCHMAN he loves _toasted cheese_, and makes his mouth like a

mouse-trap."

Our ITALIAN neighbours regale themselves with _macaroni_ and _parmesan_,

and eat some things which we call _carrion_.--Vide RAY'S _Travels_, p.

362 and 406.

While the ENGLISHMAN boasts of his _roast beef, plum pudding, and

porter_,

The FRENCHMAN feeds on his favourite _frog and soupe-maigre_,

The TARTAR feasts on _horse-flesh_,

The CHINAMAN on _dogs_,

The GREENLANDER preys on _garbage_ and _train oil_; and each "blesses

his stars, and thinks it luxury." What at one time or place is

considered as beautiful, fragrant, and savoury, at another is regarded

as deformed and disgustful.[51-*]

"Ask _a toad_ what is beauty, the supremely beautiful, the ~TO KALON~!

He will tell you it is _my wife_,--with two large eyes projecting out of

her little head, a broad and flat neck, yellow belly, and dark brown

back. With _a Guinea negro_, it is a greasy black skin, hollow eyes, and

a flat nose. Put the question to the _devil_, and he will tell you that

BEAUTY is a pair of horns, four claws, and a tail."--VOLTAIRE'S _Philos.

Dict._ 8vo. p. 32.

"_Asafoetida_ was called by the ancients 'FOOD FOR THE GODS.' The

Persians, Indians, and other Eastern people, now eat it in sauces, and

call it by that name: the Germans call it _devil's dung_."--_Vide_ POMET

_on Drugs_.

Garlic and clove, or allspice, combined in certain proportions, produce

a flavour very similar to asafoetida.

The organ of taste is more rarely found in perfection, and is sooner

spoiled by the operations of time, excessive use, &c. than either of our

other senses.

There are as various degrees of sensibility of palate as there are of

gradations of perfection in the eyes and ears of painters and musicians.

After all the pains which the editor has taken to explain the harmony of

subtle relishes, unless nature has given the organ of taste in a due

degree, this book will, alas! no more make an OSBORNE,[52-*] than it

can a REYNOLDS, or an ARNE, or a SHIELD.

Where nature has been most bountiful of this faculty, its sensibility is

so easily blunted by a variety of unavoidable circumstances, that the

tongue is very seldom in the highest condition for appreciating delicate

flavours, or accurately estimating the relative force of the various

materials the cook employs in the composition of an harmonious relish.

Cooks express this refinement of combination by saying, a well-finished

_ragoût_ "tastes of every thing, and tastes of nothing:" (this is

"_kitchen gibberish_" for a sauce in which the component parts are well

proportioned.)

However delicately sensitive nature may have formed the organs of taste,

it is only during those few happy moments that they are perfectly awake,

and in perfect good humour, (alas! how very seldom they are,) that the

most accomplished and experienced cook has a chance of working with any

degree of certainty without the auxiliary tests of the balance and the

measure: by the help of these, when you are once right, it is your own

fault if you are ever otherwise.

The sense of taste depends much on the health of the individual, and is

hardly ever for a single hour in the same state: such is the extremely

intimate sympathy between the stomach and the tongue, that in proportion

as the former is empty, the latter is acute and sensitive. This is the

cause that "good appetite is the best sauce," and that the dish we find

savoury at _luncheon_, is insipid at _dinner_, and at _supper_ quite

tasteless.

To taste any thing in perfection, the tongue must be moistened, or the

substance applied to it contain moisture; the nervous papillæ which

constitute this sense are roused to still more lively sensibility by

salt, sugar, aromatics, &c.

If the palate becomes dull by repeated tasting, one of the best ways of

refreshing it, is to masticate an apple, or to wash your mouth well with

milk.

The incessant exercise of tasting, which a cook is obliged to submit to

during the education of her tongue, frequently impairs the very faculty

she is trying to improve. "'Tis true 'tis pity and pity 'tis," (says a

_grand gourmand_) "'tis true, her too anxious perseverance to penetrate

the mysteries of palatics may diminish the _tact_, exhaust the power,

and destroy the _index_, without which all her labour is in vain."

Therefore, a sagacious cook, instead of idly and wantonly wasting the

excitability of her palate, on the sensibility of which her reputation

and fortune depends, when she has ascertained the relative strength of

the flavour of the various ingredients she employs, will call in the

balance and the measure to do the ordinary business, and endeavour to

preserve her organ of taste with the utmost care, that it may be a

faithful oracle to refer to on grand occasions, and new

compositions.[53-*] Of these an ingenious cook may form as endless a

variety, as a musician with his seven notes, or a painter with his

colours: read chapters 7 and 8 of the Rudiments of Cookery.

Receive as the highest testimonies of your employers' regard whatever

observations they may make on your work: such admonitions are the most

_unequivocal proofs_ of their desire to make you thoroughly understand

their taste, and their wish to retain you in their service, or they

would not take the trouble to teach you.

Enter into all their plans of economy,[53-+] and endeavour to make the

most of every thing, as well for your own honour as your master's

profit, and you will find that whatever care you take for his profit

will be for your own: take care that the meat which is to make its

appearance again in the parlour is handsomely cut with a sharp knife,

and put on a clean dish: take care of the _gravy_ (see No. 326) which is

left, it will save many pounds of meat in making sauce for _hashes_,

_poultry_, and many little dishes.

MANY THINGS MAY BE REDRESSED in a different form from that in which they

were first served, and improve the appearance of the table without

increasing the expense of it.

COLD FISH, soles, cod, whitings, smelts, &c. may be cut into bits, and

put into escallop shells, with cold oyster, lobster, or shrimp sauce,

and bread crumbled, and put into a Dutch oven, and browned like

scalloped oysters. (No. 182.)

The best way TO WARM COLD MEAT is to sprinkle the joint over with a

little salt, and put it in a DUTCH OVEN, at some distance before a

gentle fire, that it may warm gradually; watch it carefully, and keep

turning it till it is quite hot and brown: it will take from twenty

minutes to three quarters of an hour, according to its thickness; serve

it up with gravy: this is much better than hashing it, and by doing it

nicely a cook will get great credit. POULTRY (No. 530*), FRIED FISH (see

No. 145), &c. may be redressed in this way.

Take care of the _liquor_ you have boiled poultry or meat in; in five

minutes you may make it into EXCELLENT SOUP. See _obs._ to Nos. 555 and

229, No. 5, and the 7th chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery.

No good housewife has any pretensions to _rational economy_ who boils

animal food without converting the broth into some sort of soup.

However highly the uninitiated in the mystery of soup-making may elevate

the external appendage of his olfactory organ at the mention of "POT

LIQUOR," if he tastes No. 5, or 218, 555, &c. he will be as delighted

with it as a Frenchman is with "_potage à la Camarani_," of which it is

said "a single spoonful will lap the palate in Elysium; and while one

drop of it remains on the tongue, each other sense is eclipsed by the

voluptuous thrilling of the lingual nerves!!"

BROTH OF FRAGMENTS.--When you dress a large dinner, you may make good

broth, or portable soup (No. 252), at very small cost, by taking care of

all the trimmings and parings of the meat, game, and poultry, you are

going to use: wash them well, and put them into a stewpan, with as much

cold water as will cover them; set your stewpan on a hot fire; when it

boils, take off all the scum, and set it on again to simmer gently; put

in two carrots, two turnips, a large onion, three blades of pounded

mace, and a head of celery; some mushroom parings will be a great

addition. Let it continue to simmer gently four or five hours; strain it

through a sieve into a clean basin. This will save a great deal of

expense in buying gravy-meat.

Have the DUST, &c. removed regularly once in a fortnight, and have your

KITCHEN CHIMNEY swept once a month; many good dinners have been spoiled,

and many houses burned down, by the soot falling: the best security

against this, is for the cook to have a long birch-broom, and every

morning brush down all the soot within reach of it. Give notice to your

employers when the contents of your COAL-CELLAR are diminished to a

chaldron.

It will be to little purpose to procure good provisions, unless you have

proper utensils[55-*] to prepare them in: the most expert artist cannot

perform his work in a perfect manner without proper instruments; you

cannot have neat work without nice tools, nor can you dress victuals

well without an apparatus appropriate to the work required. See 1st page

of chapter 7 of the Rudiments of Cookery.

In those houses where the cook enjoys the confidence of her employer so

much as to be intrusted with the care of the store-room, which is not

very common, she will keep an exact account of every thing as it comes

in, and insist upon the weight and price being fixed to every article

she purchases, and occasionally will (and it may not be amiss to

jocosely drop a hint to those who supply them that she does) _reweigh_

them, for her own satisfaction, as well as that of her employer, and

will not trust the key of this room to any one; she will also keep an

account of every thing she takes from it, and manage with as much

consideration and frugality as if it was her own property she was using,

endeavouring to disprove the adage, that "PLENTY makes _waste_," and

remembering that "wilful waste makes woful want."

The honesty of a cook must be above all suspicion: she must obtain, and

(in spite of the numberless temptations, &c. that daily offer to bend

her from it) preserve a character of spotless integrity and useful

industry,[55-+] remembering that it is the fair price of INDEPENDENCE,

which all wish for, but none without it can hope for; only a fool or a

madman will be so silly or so crazy as to expect to reap where he has

been too idle to sow.

Very few modern-built town-houses have a proper place to preserve

provisions in. The best substitute is a HANGING SAFE, which you may

contrive to suspend in an airy situation; and when you order meat,

poultry, or fish, tell the tradesman when you intend to dress it: he

will then have it in his power to serve you with provision that will do

him credit, which the finest meat, &c. in the world will never do,

unless it has been kept a proper time to be ripe and tender.

If you have a well-ventilated larder in a shady, dry situation, you may

make still surer, by ordering in your meat and poultry such a time

before you want it as will render it tender, which the finest meat

cannot be, unless hung a proper time (see 2d chapter of the Rudiments of

Cookery), according to the season, and nature of the meat, &c.; but

always, as "_les bons hommes de bouche de France_" say, till _it is_

"_assez mortifiée_."

Permitting this process to proceed to a certain degree renders meat much

more easy of solution in the stomach, and for those whose digestive

faculties are delicate, it is of the utmost importance that it be

attended to with the greatest nicety, for the most consummate skill in

the culinary preparation of it will not compensate for the want of

attention to this. (Read _obs._ to No. 68.) Meat that is _thoroughly

roasted_, or _boiled_, eats much shorter and tenderer, and is in

proportion more digestible, than that which is _under_-done.

You will be enabled to manage much better if your employers will make

out a BILL OF FARE FOR THE WEEK on the Saturday before: for example, for

a family of half a dozen--

_Sunday_ Roast beef (No. 19), and my pudding (No. 554).

_Monday_ Fowl (Nos. 16. 58), what was left of my pudding fried, and

warmed in the Dutch oven.

_Tuesday_ Calf's head (No. 10), apple-pie.

_Wednesday_ Leg of mutton (No. 1), or (No. 23).

_Thursday_ Do. broiled or hashed (No. 487), or (No. 484,) pancakes.

_Friday_ Fish (No. 145), pudding (No. 554).

_Saturday_ Fish, or eggs and bacon (No. 545).

It is an excellent plan to have certain things on certain days. When

your butcher or poulterer knows what you will want, he has a better

chance of doing his best for you; and never think of ordering BEEF FOR

ROASTING except for Sunday.

When the weather or season[56-*] is very unfavourable for keeping meat,

&c. give him the choice of sending that which is in the best order for

dressing; _i. e._ either ribs or sirloin of beef, or leg, loin, or neck

of mutton, &c.

Meat in which you can detect the slightest trace of putrescency, has

reached its highest degree of tenderness, and should be dressed without

delay; but before this period, which in some kinds of meat is offensive,

the due degree of inteneration may be ascertained, by its yielding

readily to the pressure of the finger, and by its opposing little

resistance to an attempt to bind the joint.

Although we strongly recommend that animal food should be hung up in the

open air, till its fibres have lost some degree of their toughness; yet,

let us be clearly understood also to warn you, that if kept till it

loses its natural sweetness, it is as detrimental to health, as it is

disagreeable to the smell and taste.

IN VERY COLD WEATHER, bring your meat, poultry, &c. into the kitchen,

early in the morning, if you roast, boil, or stew it ever so gently and

ever so long; if it be _frozen_, it will continue tough and unchewable.

Without very watchful attention to this, the most skilful cook in the

world will get no credit, be she ever so careful in the management of

her spit or her stewpan.

The time meat should hang to be tender, depends on the heat and humidity

of the air. If it is not kept long enough, it is hard and tough; if too

long, it loses its flavour. It should be hung where it will have a

thorough air, and be dried with a cloth, night and morning, to keep it

from damp and mustiness.

Before you dress it, wash it well; if it is roasting beef, _pare off the

outside_.

If you fear meat,[57-*] &c. will not keep till the time it is wanted,

_par_-roast or _par_-boil it; it will then keep a couple of days longer,

when it may be dressed in the usual way, only it will be done in rather

less time.

"In Germany, the method of keeping flesh in summer is to steep it in

Rhenish wine with a little sea-salt; by which means it may be preserved

a whole season."--BOERHAAVE'S Academical Lectures, translated by J.

Nathan, 8vo. 1763, p. 241.

The cook and the butcher as often lose their credit by meat being

dressed too fresh, as the fishmonger does by fish that has been kept too

long.

Dr. Franklin in his philosophical experiments tells us, that if game or

poultry be killed by ELECTRICITY it will become tender in the twinkling

of an eye, and if it be dressed immediately, will be delicately tender.

During the _sultry_ SUMMER MONTHS, it is almost impossible to procure

meat that is not either tough, or tainted. The former is as improper as

the latter for the unbraced stomachs of relaxed valetudinarians, for

whom, at this season, poultry, stews, &c., and vegetable soups, are the

most suitable food, when the digestive organs are debilitated by the

extreme heat, and profuse perspiration requires an increase of liquid to

restore equilibrium in the constitution.

I have taken much more pains than any of my predecessors, to teach the

young cook how to perform, in the best manner, the common business of

her profession. Being well grounded in the RUDIMENTS of COOKERY, she

will be able to execute the orders that are given her, with ease to

herself, and satisfaction to her employers, and send up a delicious

dinner, with half the usual expense and trouble.

I have endeavoured to lessen the labour of those who wish to be

thoroughly acquainted with their profession; and an attentive perusal of

the following pages will save them much of the irksome drudgery

attending an apprenticeship at the stove: an ordeal so severe, that few

pass it without irreparable injury to their health;[58-*] and many lose

their lives before they learn their business.

To encourage the best performance of the machinery of mastication, the

cook must take care that her dinner is not only well cooked, but that

each dish be sent to table with its proper accompaniments, in the

neatest and most elegant manner.

Remember, to excite the good opinion of the _eye_ is the first step

towards awakening the _appetite_.

Decoration is much more rationally employed in rendering a wholesome,

nutritious dish inviting, than in the elaborate embellishments which are

crowded about trifles and custards.

Endeavour to avoid _over_-dressing roasts and boils, &c. and

_over_-seasoning soups and sauces with salt, pepper, &c.; it is a fault

which cannot be mended.

If your roasts, &c. are a little _under_-done, with the assistance of

the stewpan, the gridiron, or the Dutch oven, you may soon rectify the

mistake made with the spit or the pot.

If _over_-done, the best juices of the meat are evaporated; it will

serve merely to distend the stomach, and if the sensation of hunger be

removed, it is at the price of an indigestion.

The chief business of cookery is to render food easy of digestion, and

to facilitate nutrition. This is most completely accomplished by plain

cookery in perfection; i. e. neither _over_ nor _under_-done.

With all your care, you will not get much credit by cooking to

perfection, if more than _one dish goes to table at a time_.

To be eaten in perfection, the interval between meat being taken out of

the stewpan and its being put into the mouth, must be as short as

possible; but ceremony, that most formidable enemy to good cheer, too

often decrees it otherwise, and the guests seldom get a bit of an

"_entremets_" till it is half cold. (See No. 485.)

So much time is often lost in placing every thing in apple-pie order,

that long before dinner is announced, all becomes lukewarm; and to

complete the mortification of the _grand gourmand_, his meat is put on a

sheet of ice in the shape of a plate, which instantly converts the gravy

into jelly, and the fat into a something which puzzles his teeth and the

roof of his mouth as much as if he had birdlime to masticate. A complete

_meat-screen_ will answer the purpose of a _hot closet_, _plate-warmer_,

&c.--See Index.

It will save you infinite trouble and anxiety, if you can prevail on

your employers to use the "SAUCE-BOX," No. 462, hereinafter described in

the chapter of Sauces. With the help of this "MAGAZINE OF TASTE," every

one in company may flavour their soup and sauce, and adjust the

vibrations of their palate, exactly to their own fancy; but if the cook

give a decidedly predominant and _piquante goût_ to a dish, to tickle

the tongues of two or three visiters, whose taste she knows, she may

thereby make the dinner disgusting to all the other guests.

Never undertake more work than you are quite certain you can do well. If

you are ordered to prepare a larger dinner than you think you can send

up with ease and neatness, or to dress any dish that you are not

acquainted with, rather than run any risk in spoiling any thing (by one

fault you may perhaps lose all your credit), request your employers to

let you have some help. They may acquit you for pleading guilty of

inability; but if you make an attempt, and fail, will vote it a capital

offence.

If your mistress professes to understand cookery, your best way will be

to follow her directions. If you wish to please her, let her have the

praise of all that is right, and cheerfully bear the blame of any thing

that is wrong; only advise that all NEW DISHES may be first tried when

the family dine alone. When there is company, never attempt to dress any

thing which you have not ascertained that you can do perfectly well.

Do not trust any part of your work to others without carefully

overlooking them: whatever faults they commit, you will be censured for.

If you have forgotten any article which is indispensable for the day's

dinner, request your employers to send one of the other servants for it.

The cook must never quit her post till her work is entirely finished.

It requires the utmost skill and contrivance to have all things done as

they should be, and all done together, at that critical moment when the

dinner-bell sounds "to the banquet."

"A feast must be without a fault;

And if 't is not all right, 't is naught."

But

"Good nature will some failings overlook,

Forgive mischance, not errors of the cook;

As, if no salt is thrown about the dish,

Or nice crisp'd parsley scatter'd on the fish,

Shall we in passion from our dinner fly,

And hopes of pardon to the cook deny,

For things which Mrs. GLASSE herself might oversee,

And all mankind commit as well as she?"

Vide KING'S _Art of Cookery_.

Such is the endless variety of culinary preparations, that it would be

as vain and fruitless a search as that for the philosopher's stone, to

expect to find a cook who is quite perfect in all the operations of the

spit, the stewpan, and the rolling-pin: you will as soon find a

watchmaker who can make, put together, and regulate every part of a

watch.

"The universe cannot produce a cook who knows how to do every branch of

cookery well, be his genius as great as possible."--Vide the _Cook's

Cookery_, 8vo. page 40.

THE BEST RULE FOR MARKETING is to _pay_ READY MONEY for every thing, and

to deal with the most respectable tradesmen in your neighbourhood.

If you leave it to their integrity to supply you with a good article, at

the fair market price, you will be supplied with better provisions, and

at as reasonable a rate as those bargain-hunters, who trot "around,

around, around about" a market, till they are trapped to buy some

_unchewable_ old poultry, _tough_ tup-mutton, _stringy_ cow beef, or

_stale_ fish, at a very little less than the price of prime and proper

food. With _savings_ like these they toddle home in triumph, cackling

all the way, like a goose that has got ankle-deep into good luck.

All the skill of the most accomplished cook will avail nothing, unless

she is furnished with PRIME PROVISIONS. The best way to procure these is

to deal with shops of established character: you may appear to pay,

perhaps, ten _per cent._ more than you would, were you to deal with

those who pretend to sell cheap, but you would be much more than in that

proportion better served.

Every trade has its tricks and deceptions: those who follow them can

deceive you if they please; and they are too apt to do so, if you

provoke the exercise of their over-reaching talent.[61-*]

Challenge them to a game at "_Catch who can_," by entirely relying on

your own judgment; and you will soon find that nothing but very long

experience can make you equal to the combat of marketing to the utmost

advantage.

Before you go to market, look over your larder, and consider well what

things are wanting, especially on a Saturday. No well-regulated family

can suffer a disorderly caterer to be jumping in and out to the

chandler's shop on a Sunday morning.

Give your directions to your assistants, and begin your business early

in the morning, or it will be impossible to have the dinner ready at the

time it is ordered.

To be half an hour after the time is such a frequent fault, that there

is the more merit in being ready at the appointed hour. This is a

difficult task, and in the best-regulated family you can only be sure of

your time by proper arrangements.

With all our love of punctuality, we must not forget that the first

consideration must still be, that the dinner "be well done when 't is

done."

If any accident occurs to any part of the dinner, or if you are likely

to be prevented sending the soup, &c. to the table at the moment it is

expected, send up a message to your employers, stating the circumstance,

and bespeak their patience for as many minutes as you think it will take

to be ready. This is better than either keeping the company waiting

without an apology, or dishing your dinner before it is done enough, or

sending any thing to table which is disgusting to the stomachs of the

guests at the first appearance of it.

Those who desire regularity in the service of their table, should have a

DIAL, of about twelve inches diameter, placed over the kitchen

fireplace, carefully regulated to keep time exactly with the clock in

the hall or dining-parlour; with a frame on one side, containing A TASTE

TABLE of the peculiarities of the master's palate, and the particular

rules and orders of his kitchen; and, on the other side, of the REWARDS

given to those who attend to them, and for long and faithful service.

In small families, where a dinner is seldom given, a great deal of

preparation is required, and the preceding day must be devoted to the

business of the kitchen.

On these occasions a _char-woman_ is often employed to do the dirty

work. Ignorant persons often hinder you more than they help you. We

advise a cook to be hired to assist to dress the dinner: this would be

very little more expense, and the work got through with much more

comfort in the kitchen and credit to the parlour.

When you have a very large entertainment to prepare, get your soups and

sauces, forcemeats, &c. ready the day before, and read the 7th chapter

of our _Rudiments of Cookery_. Many made dishes may also be prepared the

day before they are to go to table; but do not dress them _quite enough_

the first day, that they may not be _over_-done by warming up again.

Prepare every thing you can the day before the dinner, and order every

thing else to be sent in early in the morning; if the tradesmen forget

it, it will allow you time to send for it.

The pastry, jellies, &c. you may prepare while the broths are doing:

then truss your game and poultry, and shape your collops, cutlets, &c.,

and trim them neatly; cut away all flaps and gristles, &c. Nothing

should appear on table but what has indisputable pretensions to be

eaten!

Put your made dishes in plates, and arrange them upon the dresser in

regular order. Next, see that your roasts and boils are all nicely

trimmed, trussed, &c. and quite ready for the spit or the pot.

Have your vegetables neatly cut, pared, picked, and clean washed in the

colander: provide a tin dish, with partitions, to hold your fine herbs:

onions and shallots, parsley, thyme, tarragon, chervil, and burnet,

minced _very fine_; and lemon-peel grated, or cut thin, and chopped very

small: pepper and salt ready mixed, and your spice-box and salt-cellar

always ready for action: that every thing you may want may be at hand

for your stove-work, and not be scampering about the kitchen in a

whirlpool of confusion, hunting after these trifles while the dinner is

waiting.

In one drawer under your SPICE-BOX keep ready ground, in well-stopped

bottles, the several spices separate; and also that mixture of them

which is called "_ragoût powder_" (No. 457 or No. 460): in another, keep

your dried and powdered sweet, savoury, and soup herbs, &c. and a set of

weights and scales: you may have a third drawer, containing flavouring

essences, &c. an invaluable auxiliary in finishing soups and sauces.

(See the account of the "MAGAZINE OF TASTE," or "SAUCE-BOX," No. 462.)

Have also ready some THICKENING, made of the best white flour sifted,

mixed with soft water with a wooden spoon till it is the consistence of

thick batter, a bottle of plain BROWNING (No. 322), some strained

lemon-juice, and some good glaze, or PORTABLE soup (No. 252).

"Nothing can be done in perfection which must be done in a hurry:"[63-*]

therefore, if you wish the dinner to be sent up to please your master

and mistress, and do credit to yourself, be punctual; take care that as

soon as the _clock strikes_, the _dinner-bell rings_: this shows the

establishment to be orderly, is extremely gratifying to the master and

his guests, and is most praiseworthy in the attendants.

But remember, you cannot obtain this desirable reputation without good

management in every respect. If you wish to ensure ease and independence

in the latter part of your life, you must not be unwilling to pay the

price for which only they can be obtained, and earn them by a diligent

and faithful[64-*] performance of the duties of your station in your

young days, which, if you steadily persevere in, you may depend upon

ultimately receiving the reward your services deserve.

All duties are reciprocal: and if you hope to receive favour, endeavour

to deserve it by showing yourself fond of obliging, and grateful when

obliged; such behaviour will win regard, and maintain it: enforce what

is right, and excuse what is wrong.

Quiet, steady perseverance is the only spring which you can safely

depend upon for infallibly promoting your progress on the road to

independence.

If your employers do not immediately appear to be sensible of your

endeavours to contribute your utmost to their comfort and interest, be

not easily discouraged. _Persevere_, and do all in your power to MAKE

YOURSELF USEFUL.

Endeavour to promote the comfort of every individual in the family; let

it be manifest that you are desirous to do rather more than is required

of you, than less than your duty: they merit little who perform merely

what would be exacted. If you are desired to help in any business which

may not strictly belong to your department, undertake it cheerfully,

patiently, and conscientiously.

The foregoing advice has been written with an honest desire to augment

the comfort of those in the kitchen, who will soon find that the

ever-cheering reflection of having done their duty to the utmost of

their ability, is in itself, with a Christian spirit, a never-failing

source of comfort in all circumstances and situations, and that

"VIRTUE IS ITS OWN REWARD."

FOOTNOTES:

[46-*] A chapter of advice to cooks will, we hope, be found as useful as

it is original: all we have on this subject in the works of our

predecessors, is the following; "I shall strongly recommend to all cooks

of either sex, to keep their stomachs free from strong liquors till

_after_ dinner, and their noses from snuff."--_Vide_ CLERMONT'S

_Professed Cook_, p. 30, 8vo. London, 1776.

[50-*] Meat that is not to be cut till it is _cold_, must be thoroughly

done, especially in summer.

[51-*] See chapter XV. "_Chaque Pays_, chaque _Coutume_."--_Cours

Gastronomique_, 8vo. 1809, p. 162.

[52-*] Cook to Sir JOSEPH BANKS, Bart., late president of the Royal

Society.

[53-*] "The diversities of taste are so many and so considerable, that

it seemeth strange to see the matter treated of both by philosophers and

physicians with so much scantiness and defect: for the subject is not

barren, but yieldeth much and pleasant variety, and doth also appear to

be of great importance."--From Dr. GREW'S _Anat. of Plants_, fol. 1682,

p. 286. The Dr. enumerates sixteen simple tastes: however, it is

difficult to define more than six.--1st. _Bitter_ as wormwood. 2d.

_Sweet_ as sugar. 3d. _Sour_ as vinegar. 4th. _Salt_ as brine. 5th.

_Cold_ as ice. 6th. _Hot_ as brandy. "_Compound tastes_, innumerable,

may be formed by the combination of these simple tastes--as words are of

letters."--See also _Phil. Trans._ vol. xv. p. 1025.

[53-+] "I am persuaded that no servant ever saved her master sixpence,

but she found it in the end in her pocket."--TRUSLER'S _Domestic

Management_, p. 11.

[55-*] "A surgeon may as well attempt to make an incision with a pair of

shears, or open a vein with an oyster-knife, as a cook pretend to dress

a dinner without proper tools."--VERRALL'S _Cookery_, 8vo. 1759, p. 6.

[55-+] Many COOKS miss excellent opportunities of making themselves

independent, by their idleness, in refusing any place, however

profitable, &c. if there is not a _kitchen maid_ kept to wait upon them.

There are many invalids who require a good cook, and as (after reading

this book they will understand how much) their comfort and effective

existence depends on their food being properly prepared, will willingly

pay handsome wages, (who would not rather pay the cook than the doctor?)

but have so little work in the kitchen that one person may do it all

with the utmost ease, without injury to her health; which is not the

case in a large family, where the poor cook is roasting and stewing all

day, and is often deprived of her rest at night. No artists have greater

need to "_make hay while the sun shines_," and timely provide for the

infirmities of age. Who will hire a superannuated servant? If she has

saved nothing to support herself, she must crawl to the workhouse.

It is melancholy to find, that, according to the authority of a certain

great French author, "cooks, half stewed and half roasted, when unable

to work any longer, generally retire to some unknown corner, and die in

forlornness and want."--BLACKWOOD'S _Edin. Mag._ vol. vii. p. 668.

[56-*] "The season of the year has considerable influence on the quality

of butcher-meat; depending upon the more or less plentiful supply of

food, upon the periodical change which takes place in the body of the

animal, and upon temperature. The flesh of most full-grown quadrupeds is

in highest season during the first months of winter, after having

enjoyed the advantage of the abundance of fresh summer food. Its flavour

then begins to be injured by the turnips, &c. given as winter food; and

in spring, it gets lean from deficiency of food. Although beef and

mutton are never absolutely out of season, or not fit for the table,

they are best in November, December, and January. Pork is absolutely

bad, except during the winter."--_Supplement to the Edin. Ency. Brit._

p. 328.

[57-*] "LARDERS, PANTRIES, and SAFES must be sheltered from the sun, and

otherwise removed from the heat; be dry, and, if possible, have a

current of dry, cool air continually passing through them.

"The freezing temperature, i. e. _32 degrees of Fahrenheit_, is a

perfect preservative from putrefaction: warm, moist, muggy weather is

the worst for keeping meat. The south wind is especially unfavourable,

and lightning is quickly destructive; but the greatest enemy you have to

encounter is the flesh-fly, which becomes troublesome about the month of

May, and continues so till towards Michaelmas."--For further _Obs._ on

this subject see "_The Experienced Butcher_," page 160.

[58-*] "Buy it with health, strength, and resolution,

And pay for it, a robust constitution."

_Preface to the Cook's Cookery_, 1758.

See the preface to "_The Cook's Cookery_," p. 9. This work, which is

very scarce, was, we believe, written to develope the mistakes in what

he calls "The Thousand Errors," i. e. "_The Lady's Cookery_," i. e. Mrs.

Glasse's, i. e. Sir John Hill's.

[61-*] "He who will not be cheated _a little_, must be content to be

abused _a great deal_: the first lesson in the art of _comfortable

economy_, is to learn to submit cheerfully to be imposed upon in due

proportion to your situation and circumstances: if you do not, you will

continually be in hot water.

"If you think a tradesman has imposed upon you, never use a second word,

if the first will not do, nor drop the least hint of an imposition. The

only method to induce him to make an abatement is the hope of future

favours. Pay the demand, and deal with the gentleman no more: but do not

let him see that you are displeased, or, as soon as you are out of

sight, your reputation will suffer as much as your pocket

has."--TRUSLER'S _Way to be Rich_, 8vo. 1776, p. 85.

[63-*] Says TOM THRIFTY, "_except catching of fleas_." See T. T.'s

_Essay on Early Rising_.

[64-*] N.B. "If you will take half the pains to deserve the regard of

your master and mistress by being _a good and faithful servant_, you

take to be considered _a good fellow-servant_, so many of you would not,

in the decline of life, be left destitute of those comforts which age

requires, nor have occasion to quote the saying that 'Service is no

inheritance,' unless your own misconduct makes it so.

"The idea of being called a tell-tale has occasioned many good servants

to shut their eyes against the frauds of fellow-servants.

"In the eye of the law, persons standing by and seeing a felony

committed, which they could have prevented, are held equally guilty with

those committing it."--Dr. TRUSLER'S _Domestic Management_, p. 12, and

_Instructions to Servants_.

TABLE OF WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.

To reduce our culinary operations to as exact a certainty as the nature

of the processes would admit of, we have, wherever it was needful, given

the quantities of each article.

The weights are _avoirdupois_.

The measure, the graduated glass of the apothecaries. This appeared the

most accurate and convenient; _the pint_ being divided into sixteen

ounces, _the ounce_ into eight drachms. A middling-sized _tea-spoon_

will contain about a drachm; four such tea-spoons are equal to a

middling-sized _table-spoon_, or half an ounce; four table-spoons to a

common-sized _wine-glass_.

The specific gravities of the various substances being so extremely

different, we cannot offer any auxiliary standards[65-*] for the

weights, which we earnestly recommend the cook to employ, if she wishes

to gain credit for accuracy and uniformity in her business: these she

will find it necessary to have as small as the quarter of a drachm

avoirdupois, which is equal to nearly seven grains troy.

Glass measures (divided into tea and table-spoons), containing from half

an ounce to half a pint, may be procured; also, the double-headed pepper

and spice boxes, with caps over the gratings. The superiority of these,

by preserving the contents from the action of the air, must be

sufficiently obvious to every one: the fine aromatic flavour of pepper

is soon lost, from the bottles it is usually kept in not being well

stopped. Peppers are seldom ground or pounded sufficiently fine. (See

N.B. to 369.)

N.B. The trough nutmeg-graters are by far the best we have seen,

especially for those who wish to grate fine, and fast.

FOOTNOTES:

[65-*] A large table-spoonful of flour weighs about half an ounce.

RUDIMENTS OF COOKERY.

CHAPTER I.

BOILING.[66-*]

This most simple of culinary processes is not often performed in

perfection. It does not require quite so much nicety and attendance as

roasting; to skim your pot well, and keep it really boiling (the slower

the better) all the while, to know how long is required for doing the

joint, &c., and to take it up at the critical moment when it is done

enough, comprehends almost the whole art and mystery. This, however,

demands a patient and perpetual vigilance, of which few persons are

capable.

The cook must take especial care that the water really boils all the

while she is cooking, or she will be deceived in the time; and make up a

sufficient fire (a frugal cook will manage with much less fire for

boiling than she uses for roasting) at first, to last all the time,

without much mending or stirring.

When the pot is coming to a boil there will always, from the cleanest

meat and clearest water, rise a _scum_ to the top of it, proceeding

partly from the water; this must be carefully taken off as soon as it

rises.

On this depends the good appearance of all boiled things.

When you have skimmed well, put in some cold water, which will throw up

the rest of the scum.

The oftener it is skimmed, and the cleaner the top of the water is kept,

the sweeter and the cleaner will be the meat.

If let alone, it soon boils down and sticks to the meat,[67-*] which,

instead of looking delicately white and nice, will have that coarse and

filthy appearance we have too often to complain of, and the butcher and

poulterer be blamed for the carelessness of the cook in not skimming her

pot.

Many put in _milk_, to make what they boil look white; but this does

more harm than good: others wrap it up in a cloth; but these are

needless precautions: if the scum be attentively removed, meat will have

a much more delicate colour and finer flavour than it has when muffled

up. This may give rather more trouble, but those who wish to excel in

their art must only consider how the processes of it can be most

perfectly performed: a cook, who has a proper pride and pleasure in her

business, will make this her maxim on all occasions.

It is desirable that meat for boiling be of an equal thickness, or

before thicker parts are done enough the thinner will be done too much.

Put your meat into _cold_[67-+] water, in the proportion of about a

quart of water to a pound of meat: it should be covered with water

during the whole of the process of boiling, but not drowned in it; the

less water, provided the meat be covered with it, the more savoury will

be the meat, and the better will be the broth.

The water should be heated gradually, according to the thickness, &c. of

the article boiled. For instance, a leg of mutton of 10 pounds weight

(No. 1,) should be placed over a moderate fire, which will gradually

make the water hot, without causing it to boil for about forty minutes;

if the water boils much sooner, the meat will be hardened, and shrink up

as if it was scorched: by keeping the water a certain time heating

without boiling, the fibres of the meat are dilated, and it yields a

quantity of scum, which must be taken off as soon as it rises.

"104. If a vessel containing water be placed over a steady fire, the

water will grow continually hotter till it reaches the limit of boiling,

after which the regular accessions of heat are wholly spent in

converting it into steam.

"Water remains at the same pitch of temperature, however fiercely it

boils. The only difference is, that with a strong fire it sooner comes

to boil, and more quickly boils away, and is converted into

steam."--BUCHANAN _on the Economy of Fuel_, 1810.

The editor placed a thermometer in water in that state which cooks call

gentle simmering; the heat was 212°, i. e. the same degree as the

strongest boiling.

Two mutton chops were covered with cold water, and one boiled a gallop,

and the other simmered very gently for three quarters of an hour: the

chop which was slowly simmered was decidedly superior to that which was

boiled; it was much tenderer, more juicy, and much higher flavoured. The

liquor which boiled fast was in like proportion more savoury, and when

cold had much more fat on its surface. This explains why quick boiling

renders meat hard, &c., because its juices are extracted in a greater

degree.

Reckon the time from its first coming to a boil.

The old rule of 15 minutes to a pound of meat, we think rather too

little: the slower it boils, the tenderer, the plumper, and whiter it

will be.

For those who choose their food thoroughly cooked (which all will who

have any regard for their stomachs), twenty minutes to a pound for

fresh, and rather more for salted meat, will not be found too much for

gentle simmering by the side of the fire, allowing more or less time,

according to the thickness of the joint, and the coldness of the

weather: to know the state of which, let a thermometer be placed in the

pantry; and when it falls below 40°, tell your cook to give rather more

time in both roasting and boiling, always remembering, the slower it

boils the better.

Without some practice it is difficult to teach any art; and cooks seem

to suppose they must be right, if they put meat into a pot, and set it

over the fire for a certain time, making no allowance whether it simmers

without a bubble or boils a gallop.

Fresh-killed meat will take much longer time boiling than that which has

been kept till it is what the butchers call _ripe_, and longer in _cold_

than in _warm_ weather: if it be _frozen_, it must be thawed before

boiling as before roasting; if it be fresh-killed, it will be tough and

hard, if you stew it ever so long, and ever so gently. In cold weather,

the night before the day you dress it, bring it into a place of which

the temperature is not less than 45 degrees of Fahrenheit's thermometer.

The size of the boiling-pots should be adapted to what they are to

contain: the larger the saucepan the more room it takes upon the fire,

and a larger quantity of water requires a proportionate increase of fire

to boil it.

A little pot

Is soon hot.

In small families we recommend block tin saucepans, &c. as lightest and

safest. If proper care is taken of them, and they are well dried after

they are cleaned, they are by far the cheapest; the purchase of a new

tin saucepan being little more than the expense of tinning a copper one.

Let the covers of your boiling-pots fit close, not only to prevent

unnecessary evaporation of the water, but to prevent the escape of the

nutritive matter, which must then remain either in the meat or in the

broth; and the smoke is prevented from insinuating itself under the edge

of the lid, and so giving the meat a bad taste. See observations on

Saucepans, in chapter 7.

If you let meat or poultry remain in the water after it is done enough,

it will become sodden, and lose its flavour.

Beef and mutton a little _under_-done (especially very large joints,

which will make the better hash or broil,) is not a great fault; by some

people it is preferred: but lamb, pork, and veal are uneatable if not

thoroughly boiled; but do not _over_-do them.

A trivet or fish-drainer put on the bottom of the boiling-pot, raising

the contents about an inch and a half from the bottom, will prevent that

side of the meat which comes next the bottom from being done too much,

and the lower part of the meat will be as delicately done as the other

part; and this will enable you to take out the contents of the pot,

without sticking a fork, &c. into it. If you have not a trivet, use four

skewers, or a soup-plate laid the wrong side upwards.

Take care of the liquor you have boiled poultry or meat in; in five

minutes you may make it into excellent soup. (See obs. to No. 555 and

No. 229.)

The good housewife never boils a joint without converting the broth into

some sort of soup (read No. 5, and chapter 7). If the liquor be too

salt, only use half the quantity, and the rest water. Wash salted meat

well with cold water before you put it into the boiler.

_An estimation of the_ LOSS OF WEIGHT _which takes place in cooking

animal food._--_From_ Mr. TILLOCH'S _Philosophical Magazine._

"It is well known, that in whatever way the flesh of animals is prepared

for food, a considerable diminution takes place in its weight. We do not

recollect, however, to have any where seen a statement of the loss which

meat sustains in the various culinary processes, although it is pretty

obvious that a series of experiments on the subject would not be without

their use in domestic economy.

"We shall here give the result of a series of experiments which were

actually made on this subject in a public establishment; premising that,

as they were not undertaken from mere curiosity, but, on the contrary,

to serve a purpose of practical utility, absolute accuracy was not

attended to. Considering, however, the large quantities of provisions

which were actually examined, it is presumed that the results may be

safely depended upon for any practical purpose. It would, no doubt, have

been desirable to have known not only the whole diminution of weight,

but also the parts which were separated from the meat in the form of

aqueous vapour, jelly, fat, &c.; but the determination of these did not

fall within the scope of the inquiry.

_lbs._ _oz._

28 pieces of beef, weighing 280 0

Lost in boiling 73 14

"Hence, the weight lost by beef in boiling was in this case about

26-1/2lbs. in 100lbs.

_lbs._ _oz._

19 pieces of beef, weighing 190 0

Lost in roasting 61 2

"The weight lost by beef in roasting appears to be 32 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._

9 pieces of beef, weighing 90 0

Lost in baking 27 0

"Weight lost by beef in baking 30 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._

27 legs of mutton, weighing 260 0

Lost in boiling, and by having

the shank-bone taken off 62 4

"The shank-bones were estimated at 4 ounces each; therefore the loss by

boiling was 55lbs. 8oz.

"The loss of weight in legs of mutton in boiling is 21-1/3 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._

35 shoulders of mutton, weighing 350 0

Lost in roasting 109 10

"The loss of weight in shoulders of mutton by roasting, is about 31-1/3

per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._

16 loins of mutton, weighing 141 0

Lost in roasting 49 14

"Hence, loins of mutton lose by roasting about 35-1/2 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._

10 necks of mutton, weighing 100 0

Lost in roasting 32 6

"The loss in necks of mutton by roasting is about 32-1/3 per cent.

"We shall only draw two practical inferences from the foregoing

statement.--1st, In respect of economy, it is more profitable to boil

meat than to roast it. 2dly, Whether we roast or boil meat, it loses by

being cooked from one-fifth to one-third of its whole weight."

The loss of roasting arises from the melting out of the fat, and

evaporating the water; but the nutritious matters remain condensed in

the cooked solid.

In boiling, the loss arises partly from the fat melted out, but chiefly

from _gelatine_ and _osmazome_ being extracted and dissolved by the

water in which the meat is boiled; there is, therefore, a real loss of

nourishment, unless the broth be used; when this mode of cooking becomes

the most economical.[71-*]

_The sauces usually sent to table with boiled meat, &c._

These are to be sent up in boats, and never poured over the meat, &c.

Gravy for boiled meat (No. 327.)

Parsley and butter (No. 261.)

Chervil (No. 264.)

Caper (No. 274.)

Oyster (No. 278.)

Liver and parsley (No. 287.)

Celery (No. 289.)

Onion (No. 296, &c.)

Shallot (No. 295.)

Wow wow (No. 328.)

Curry (No. 348.)

BAKING.

The following observations were written expressly for this work by Mr.

Turner, English and French bread and biscuit baker.

"Baking is one of the cheapest and most convenient ways of dressing a

dinner in small families; and, I may say, that the oven is often the

only kitchen a poor man has, if he wishes to enjoy a joint of meat at

home with his family.

"I don't mean to deny the superior excellence of roasting to baking; but

some joints, when baked, so nearly approach to the same when roasted,

that I have known them to be carried to the table, and eaten as such

with great satisfaction.

"Legs and loins of pork, legs of mutton, fillets of veal, and many other

joints, will bake to great advantage, if the meat be good; I mean

well-fed, rather inclined to be fat: if the meat be poor, no baker can

give satisfaction.

"When baking a poor joint of meat, before it has been half baked I have

seen it start from the bone, and shrivel up scarcely to be believed.

"Besides those joints above mentioned, I shall enumerate a few baked

dishes which I can particularly recommend.

"A pig, when sent to the baker prepared for baking, should have its ears

and tail covered with buttered paper properly fastened on, and a bit of

butter tied up in a piece of linen to baste the back with, otherwise it

will be apt to blister: with a proper share of attention from the baker,

I consider this way equal to a roasted one.

"A goose prepared the same as for roasting, taking care to have it on a

stand, and when half done to turn the other side upwards. A duck the

same.

"A buttock of beef the following way is particularly fine. After it has

been in salt about a week, to be well washed, and put into a brown

earthen pan with a pint of water; cover the pan tight with two or three

thicknesses of cap or foolscap paper: never cover any thing that is to

be baked with brown paper, the pitch and tar that is in brown paper will

give the meat a smoky, bad taste: give it four or five hours in a

moderately heated oven.

"A ham (if not too old) put in soak for an hour, taken out and wiped, a

crust made sufficient to cover it all over, and baked in a moderately

heated oven, cuts fuller of gravy, and of a finer flavour, than a boiled

one. I have been in the habit of baking small cod-fish, haddock, and

mackerel, with a dust of flour, and some bits of butter put on them;

eels, when large and stuffed; herrings and sprats, in a brown pan, with

vinegar and a little spice, and tied over with paper. A hare, prepared

the same as for roasting, with a few pieces of butter, and a little drop

of milk put into the dish, and basted several times, will be found

nearly equal to roasting; or cut it up, season it properly, put it into

a jar or pan, and cover it over and bake it in a moderate oven for about

three hours. In the same manner, I have been in the habit of baking legs

and shins of beef, ox cheeks, &c. prepared with a seasoning of onions,

turnips, &c.: they will take about four hours: let them stand till cold,

to skim off the fat; then warm it up all together, or part, as you may

want it.

"All these I have been in the habit of baking for the first families.

"The time each of the above articles should take depends much upon the

state of the oven, and I do consider the baker a sufficient judge; if

they are sent to him in time, he must be very neglectful if they are not

ready at the time they are ordered."

For receipts for making bread, French rolls, muffins, crumpets, Sally

Lunn, &c., see the Appendix.

FOOTNOTES:

[66-*] "The process by which food is most commonly prepared for the

table, BOILING, is so familiar to every one, and its effects are so

uniform, and apparently so simple, that few, I believe, have taken the

trouble to inquire _how_ or _in what manner_ those effects are produced;

and whether any, and what improvements in that branch of cookery are

possible. So little has this matter been an object of inquiry, that few,

very few indeed, I believe, among the _millions of persons_ who for so

many ages have been _daily_ employed in this process, have ever given

themselves the trouble to bestow one serious thought on the subject.

"_Boiling_ cannot be carried on without a very great expense of fuel;

but any boiling-hot liquid (by using proper means for confining the

heat) may be kept _boiling-hot_ for any length of time almost without

any expense of fuel at all.

"_The waste of fuel_ in culinary processes, which arises from making

liquids boil _unnecessarily_, or when nothing more would be necessary

than to keep them _boiling-hot_, is enormous; I have not a doubt but

that much more than half the fuel used in all the kitchens, public and

private, in the whole world, is wasted precisely in this manner.

"But the evil does not stop here. This unscientific and slovenly manner

of cooking renders the process much more laborious and troublesome than

otherwise it would be; and, (what by many will be considered of more

importance than either the waste of fuel or the increase of labour to

the cook) the food is rendered less savoury, and very probably less

nourishing and less wholesome.

"It is natural to suppose that many of the finer and more volatile

parts of food (those which are best calculated to act on the organs

of taste), must be carried off with the steam when the boiling is

violent."--_Count_ RUMFORD'S 10th Essay, pp. 3, 6.

[67-*] If, unfortunately, this should happen, the cook must carefully

take it off when she dishes up, either with a clean sponge or a

paste-brush.

[67-+] Cooks, however, as well as doctors, disagree; for some say, that

"all sorts of fresh meat should be put in when the water boils." I

prefer the above method for the reason given; gentle stewing renders

meat, &c. tender, and still leaves it sapid and nutritive.

[71-*] The diminution of weight by boiling and roasting is not all lost,

the FAT SKIMMINGS and the DRIPPINGS, nicely clarified, will well supply

the place of lard and for frying. See No. 83, and the receipt for CHEAP

SOUP (No. 229).