When one arrives at adult age, he should have learned by experience what
articles of food _do_, and what articles of food do _not_, agree with him,
and to shun the latter, no matter how daintily served or how tempting the
circumstances. The man who knows that _pates de foie gras_, or the livers
of abnormally fattened geese, disagree with him, and still eats them, is
not to be pitied when all the horrors of dyspepsia overtake him.
The cooking of any article of food has evidently much, very much, to do
with its digestibility. It is not the purpose of this paper to teach
cooking, but merely to give some general hints as to the best as well as
the simplest methods of preparing staple articles of food. The same
articles of food can and should be prepared differently on each day of the
week. Changes of diet are too likely to be underestimated. By constant
change the digestive organs in the average person are prevented from
having that repulsion of food which, to a greater or less extent, is
likely to result from a sameness of diet continued for a long time.
We often hear from our scientific men that this or that article of food is
excellent for muscle, another for brain, another for bone, etc., etc. Now,
stubborn facts are like stone walls, against which theories often butt out
their beauty and their power. It is well known to almost every one
nowadays that _well-cooked_ food, whether it be potatoes, meat and bread,
fish, or anything else worthy the name of food, will well maintain,
indefinitely, either the philosopher or the hodcarrier.
Many of you know, and all of you ought to know, that the principal
ingredients of nearly all our foods are starch and albumen. Starch is the
principal nutritive ingredient of vegetables and breadstuffs. Albumen is
the principal ingredient of meats, eggs, milk, and other animal
derivatives.
Starch never enters the system as starch, but must first be converted into
sugar either in the body or out of it. The process of this transformation
of starch into sugar is beautifully exemplified in certain plants, such as
the beet, the so-called sugar cane, and other growths. The young plant is,
to a great extent, composed of starch; as the plant grows older, a
substance is produced which is called _diastase_. Through the influence of
this _diastase_ the starch is converted into a peculiar non-crystallizable
substance called _dextrine_, and as the plant matures, this dextrine is
transformed into crystallizable sugar.
"Dextrine is a substance that can be produced from starch by the action of
dilute acids, alkalies, and malt extract, and by roasting it at a
temperature between 284° and 330° F., till it is of a light brown color,
and has the odor of overbaked bread."
A simple form of dextrine may be found in the brown crust of bread--that
sweetish substance that gives the crust its agreeable flavor. Pure
dextrine is an insipid, odorless, yellowish-white, translucent substance,
which dissolves in water almost as readily as sugar. As stated above, it
is easily converted into _dextrose_, or _glucose_, as it is usually named.
This _glucose_ is often sold under the name of sugar, and is the same
against which so many of the newspapers waged such a war a year or two
ago. These critics were evidently, for the most part, persons who knew
little about the subject. Glucose, if free from sulphuric acid or other
chemicals, is as harmless as any other form of sugar. Most of our candies
contain more or less of it, and are in every way as satisfactory as when
manufactured wholly from other sugars.
It is, therefore, self-evident that, as sugar is a necessary article of
food, the process which aids the transformation of our starchy foods must
necessarily aid digestion. Do not understand me to say by this that, if
all our starchy foods were converted into sugar, their digestion would
thereby be completed. As I stated a moment ago, this sweet food, if taken
into the stomach day after day, would soon cause that particular organ to
rebel against this sameness of diet. In order the more clearly to
illustrate this point, I will briefly show you how some of the every-day
articles of food can be each day differently prepared, and thus be
rendered more palatable, and, as a consequence, more digestible; for it is
a demonstrated fact that savory foods are far more easily digested than
the same foods unsavored.
The art of serving and arranging dishes for the table is an accomplishment
in itself. It is very reasonable that all things that go to make up beauty
and harmony at the dinner table should add their full quota to the
appetite, and, I was about to say, "to the digestion;" but will qualify
the statement by saying, to the digestion if the appetite be not porcine.
Our commonest article of food is the _potato_. Let us see how
potatoes--which contain only twenty per cent. of starch, as against
eighty-eight per cent. in rice, and sixty-six per cent. in wheat
flour--can be prepared as just mentioned. We will look for a moment at the
manner in which they are usually served by the average cook:
1, boiled with their jackets on; 2, roasted in the embers; 3, roasted with
meat; 4, fried; 5, mashed; 6, salad.
1. Potatoes boiled in their jackets are excellent if properly prepared.
But there's the rub. The trouble is, they are too often allowed to boil
slowly and too long, and thus become water-soaked, soggy, and solid, and
proportionately indigestible. They should be put over a brisk fire, and
kept at a brisk boil till done; then drain off the water, sprinkle a
little salt over them, and return to the fire a moment to dry thoroughly,
when you will find them bursting with their white, mealy contents.
2. Roasted potatoes are general favorites, and very digestible. A more
agreeable flavor is imparted to them if roasted in hot embers (wood fire),
care being used to keep them covered with the hot embers.
3. Fried potatoes, as they are very generally served, are almost as
digestible as rocks, but not so tempting in all their grease-dripping
beauty as the latter. Many of you have doubtless seen the potatoes neatly
sliced and dumped into a frying pan full of hot lard, where they were
permitted to sink or float, and soak and sob for about a half hour or
more. When served, they presented the picturesque spectacle of miniature
potato islands floating at liberty in a sea of yellow grease. Now, if any
of you can relish and digest such a mess as that, I would advise you to
leave this clime, and eat tallow candles with the Esquimaux.
If you are fond of fried potatoes, cook them in this way:
Take what boiled potatoes are left from breakfast or dinner; when cold,
remove the jackets, and cut into thin slices, season with salt, pepper,
and a little Cayenne; have ready a hot frying pan, with enough meat
drippings or sweet lard to cover the bottom; put in the potatoes and fry a
rich brown, stirring constantly with a knife to prevent burning. Serve
very hot.