"We live not upon what we eat, but upon what we digest."
We come now to consider the middle courses of dinner in which lies the crux
of the difficulty to the aspirant who wishes to contrive such without
recourse to the flesh-pots. This is where, too, we must find the answer to
those half-curious wholly sceptical folks who ask us, "Whatever _do_
you have for dinner?" Most of them will grant that we _may_ get a few
decent soups, though no doubt they retain a sneaking conviction that at best
these are "unco wersh," and puddings or sweets are almost exclusively
vegetarian. But how to compensate for that little bit of chicken, ox, or
pig--no one now-a-days owns to taking much meat!--is beyond the utmost
efforts of their imagination. Of course we can't have everything. When a
"reformed" friend of mine was asserting that we could have no end of
delicacies, one lady triumphantly remarked "Anyhow, you can't have a leg of
mutton." That is true, but then we must remember that it's not polite to
speak of "legs," especially with young ladies learning cooking. Liver or
kidneys are not particularly nice things to speak about either, and I am
sure if we reflected on what their place is in the economy of the body, we
should think them still less nice to eat.
But joking apart, there is a growing tendency to get as far away as we can
from their origin in the serving of meat dishes. The old-time huge joints,
trussed hares, whole sucking pigs, &c., are fast vanishing from our tables,
and the smart _chef_ exerts himself to produce as many recherche and
mysterious little made dishes as possible. Not a few of these are quite
innocent of meat, indeed, that is the complaint urged against them by those
who believe that in flesh only can we have proper sustenance. But little
research is needed, however, to show that apart from flesh foods there are
immense and only partially developed resources in the shape of cereals,
pulses, nuts, &c., and, it is to these that we must look for our staple
solid foods. In a small work like this it is impossible to do much more
than indicate the lines upon which to go, but I shall try to give as many
typical dishes as I can, and to suggest, rather than detail, variations and
adaptations.
We must first study very briefly the various food elements, and learn the
most wholesome and suitable combination of these. In an ordinary
three-course dinner we must arrange to have a savoury that will fitly follow
the soup and precede the sweets. Thus, if we have a light, clear, or white
soup, we shall want a fairly substantial savoury, and if the soup has been
rather satisfying it must be followed by a lighter course.
The lightest savouries are prepared mostly from starch foods, as rice,
macaroni, &c., while for the richer and more substantial we have recourse to
peas, beans, lentils, and nuts.
The first set of savouries given are of the lighter description, and are
well suited to take the place of the fish course at dinner.