"Economy is not Having, but wisely spending." _Ruskin._
"I for my part can affirm that those whom I have known to submit to this
(the vegetarian) regimen have found its results to be restored or improved
health, marked addition of strength, and the acquisition by the mind of a
clearness, brightness, well-being, such as might follow the release from
some secular, loathsome detestable dungeon.... All our justice, morality,
and all our thoughts and feelings, derive from three or four primordial
necessities, whereof the principal one is food. The least modification of
one of these necessities would entail a marked change in our moral
existence. Were the belief one day to become general that man could
dispense with animal food, there would ensue not only a great economic
revolution--for a bullock, to produce one pound of meat, consumes more than
a hundred of provender--but a moral improvement as well."--_Maurice
Maeterlinck._
"Can anything be so elegant as to have few wants, and to serve them one's
self, so to have somewhat left to give, instead of being always prompt to
grab."--_Emerson._
Foreword.
"Diet cures mair than physic."--_Scotch Proverb._
"The first wealth is health."--_Emerson._
"Of making books there is no end," and as this is no less true of cookery
books than of those devoted to each and every other subject of human
interest, one rather hesitates to add anything to the sum of domestic
literature. But while every department of the culinary art has been
elaborated _ad nauseam_, there is still considerable ignorance
regarding some of the most elementary principles which underlie the food
question, the relative values of food-stuffs, and the best methods of
adapting these to the many and varied needs of the human frame. This is
peculiarly evident in regard to a non-flesh diet. Of course one must not
forget that there are not a few, even in this age, to whom the bare idea of
contriving the daily dinner, without the aid of the time-honoured
flesh-pots, would seem scarcely less impious than absurd, as if it
threatened the very foundations of law and order. Still there is a large
and ever increasing number whose watch word is progress and reform, who
would be only too glad to be independent of the _abattoir_ (I will not
offend gentle ears with the coarse word slaughter-house), if they only knew
how. In summertime, at least, when animal food petrifies so rapidly, many
worried housekeepers, who have no prejudice against flesh-foods in general,
would gladly welcome some acceptable substitute. The problem is how to
achieve this, and it is with the view of helping to that solution that this
book is written.
Now, as I said, while there is no lack of the stereotyped order of domestic
literature, there seems to be a wide field over which to spread the
knowledge of "Reform" dietary, and how to adapt it to the needs of different
people, and varying conditions. And while protesting against all undue
elaboration--for all true reform should simplify life rather than complicate
it--we should do well to acquire the knowledge of how to prepare a repast to
satisfy, if need be, the most exacting and fastidious.
Another need which I, as a Scotswoman, feel remains to be met, is a work to
suit the tastes and ideals of Scottish people. Cosmopolitan as we now are,
there are many to whom English ways are unfamiliar. Even the terms used are
not always intelligible, as is found by a Scotswoman on going to live in
England, and _vice-versa_. We could hardly expect that every London
stoneware merchant would be able to suit the Scotch lass, who came in asking
for a "muckle broon pig tae haud butter;" but even when English words are
used, they may convey quite different ideas to Scottish and English minds.
Indeed, several housewives have complained to me that all the vegetarian
cookery books, so far as they can learn, are intended solely for English
readers, so that we would hope to overcome this difficulty and yet suit
English readers as well.
Before starting to the cookery book proper, I would point out some of the
commonest errors into which would-be disciples of food reform so often fall,
and which not unfrequently leads to their abandoning it altogether as a
failure. Nothing is more common than to hear people say most emphatically
that vegetarian diet is no good, for they "have tried it." We usually find
upon enquiry, however, that the "fair trial" which they claim to have given,
consisted of a haphazard and ill-advised course of meals, for a month, a
week, or a few days intermittently, when a meat dinner was from some reason
or other not available. One young lady whom I know, feels entitled to throw
ridicule on the whole thing from the vantage-ground of one day's
experience--nay, part of a day. It being very hot, she could not tackle
roast beef at the early dinner, and resolved with grim heroism to be
"vegetarian" for once. To avoid any very serious risks, however, she
fortified herself as strongly as possible with the other unconsidered
trifles--soup, sweets, curds and cream, strawberries, &c., but despite all
her precautions, by tea-time the aching void became so alarming that the
banished joint was recalled from exile, and being "so famished" she ate more
than she would have done at dinner. Next day she was not feeling well, and
now she and her friends are as unanimous in ascribing her indisposition to
vegetarianism, as in declaring war to the knife--or _with_ the knife
against it evermore.
Now, there are certainly not many who would be so stupid or unreasonable as
to denounce any course of action on the score of one spasmodic attempt, but
there are not a few who are honestly desirous to follow out what they feel
to be a better mode of living, who take it up in such a hasty, ill-advised
way as to ensure failure. It is not enough merely to drop meat, and to
conclude that as there is plenty food of some or any sort, all will be
right, unless it has first been ascertained that it will contain the
essential elements for a nourishing, well-balanced meal. It is not the
quantity, however, which is so likely to be wrong as the proportions and
combination of foods, for we may serve up abundance of good food, well
cooked and perfectly appointed in every way, and yet fail to provide a
satisfactory meal. I would seek to emphasise this fact, because it is so
difficult to realise that we may consume a large amount of food, good in
itself, and yet fail to benefit by it. If we suffer, we blame any departure
from time-honoured orthodoxy, when, perhaps we ought to blame our wrong
conception or working out of certain principles. It is never wise,
therefore, to adopt the reform dietary too hastily, unless one is quite sure
of having mastered the subject, at least in a broad general way; for if the
health of the household suffers simultaneously with the change, we cannot
hope but that this will be held responsible. Other people may have "all the
ills that flesh is heir to" as often as they please. A vegetarian dare
hardly sneeze without having every one down upon him with 'I told you so.'
'That's what comes of no meat.'
A frequent mistake, then, is that of making a wrong selection of foods, or
combining them unsuitably, or in faulty proportions. For example, rice,
barley, pulses, &c., may be, and are, all excellent foods, but they are not
always severally suitable under every possible condition. Rice is one of
the best foods the earth produces, and probably more than half of the
hardest work of the world is done on little else, but those who have been
used to strong soups, roast beef, and plum pudding will take badly with a
sudden change to rice soups, rice savoury, and rice pudding. For one thing,
so convinced are we of the poorness of such food, that we should try to take
far too much, and so have excess of starch. Pulse foods, again,--peas,
beans, lentils--are exceedingly nutritious--far more so than they get credit
for, and in their use it is most usual to heavily overload the system with
excess of nitrogenous matter. One lady told me she understood one had to
take enormous quantities of haricot beans, and she was quite beat to take
_four_ platefuls! 'I can never bear the sight of them since,' she
added pathetically. Another--a gentleman--told me vegetarianism was 'no
good for him, at any rate, for one week he swallowed "pailfuls of swill,"
and never felt satisfied!' While yet a third--no, it was his anxious wife
on his behalf--complained that 'he could not take enough of "that food" to
keep up his strength.' He had three platefuls of the thickest soup that
could be contrived, something yclept "savoury"--though I cannot of course
vouch for the accuracy of that definition--a substantial pudding, and fruit.
He 'tried' to take two tumblers of milk, but despite his best endeavours
could manage to compass only _one_! I sympathised heartily with the
good lady's anxiety, and urged that they go back to their "morsel of meat"
without delay, and dispense with the soup, the "savoury," the milk, and
either the fruit or the pudding. In reply to her astonished look, I gravely
assured her that it was evident vegetarianism would not do for them, and her
look of relief made it clear that she never suspected the mental
reservation, that the tiny bit of meat was invaluable if only to keep people
from taking so much by way of compensation.
Another mistake to be guarded against, is that of reverting too suddenly to
rather savourless insipid food. It is certainly true that as one perseveres
in a non-flesh diet for a length of time, the relish for spices and
condiments diminishes, and one begins to discern new, subtle, delicate
flavours which are quite inappreciable when accustomed to highly seasoned
foods. As one gives up these artificial accessories, which really serve to
blunt the palate, rarer and more delicious flavours in the sweet natural
taste come into evidence. But this takes time. There is a story told of
some Londoners who went to visit at a country farm, where, among other good
things, they were regaled with new-laid eggs. When the hostess pressed to
know how they were enjoying the rural delicacies, they, wishing to be polite
yet candid, said everything was very nice, but that the eggs had not "the
flavour of London ones!"
It were thus hopeless to expect those who like even eggs with a "tang" to
them, to take enthusiastically to a dish of tasteless hominy, or macaroni,
but happily there is no need to serve one's apprenticeship in such heroic
fashion. There is at command a practically unlimited variety of vegetarian
dishes, savoury enough to tempt the most fastidious, and in which the
absence of "carcase" may, if need be, defy detection. Not a very lofty
aspiration certainly, but it may serve as a stepping-stone.
When the goodman, therefore, comes in expecting the usual spicy sausage,
kidney stew, or roast pig, do not set before him a dish of mushy barley or
sodden beans as an introduction to your new 'reform bill' of fare, or there
may be remarks, no more lacking in flavour than London eggs. Talking of
sausage, reminds me that one of the favourite arguments against vegetarian
foods is that people like to know what they are eating. What profound faith
these must have in that, to us cynical folks, 'bag of mystery,' the sausage!
But then, perhaps, they do know that they are eating----!
Now, I fear most of the foregoing advice on how to "Reform" sounds rather
like Punch's advice to those about to marry, so after so many "don'ts" we
must find out how to _do_. And to that end I would seek rather to set
forth general broad guiding principles instead of mere bald recipes. Of
course a large number of the items--puddings, sweets, &c., and not a few
soups, are the same as in ordinary fare, so that I will give most attention
to savouries, entrees, and the like, which constitute the real difficulty.
As people get into more wholesome ways of living, the tendency is to have
fewer courses and varieties at a meal, but just at first it may be as well
to start on the basis of a three-course dinner. One or other of the dishes
may be dispensed with now and then, and thus by degrees one might attain to
that ideal of dainty simplicity from which this age of luxury and fuss and
elaboration is so far removed.
"Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both."--_Shakespeare_.