I am very fond of second courses, and devoutly believe that the
whole gallinaceous family was made to enrich our larders and to
deck our tables.
From the quail to the turkey, whenever we find a fowl of this
class, we are sure to find too, light aliment, full of flavor, and
just as fit for the convalescent as for the man of the most robust
health.
Which one of us, condemned to the fare of the fathers of the
desert, would not have smiled at the idea of a well-carved
chicken's wing, announcing his rapid rendition to civilized life?
We are not satisfied with the flavor nature has given to
gallinaceous fowls, art has taken possession of them, and under
the pretext of ameliorating, has made martyrs of them. They have
not only been deprived of the means of reproduction, but they have
been kept in solitude and darkness, and forced to eat until they
were led to an unnatural state of fatness.
It is very true that this unnatural grease is very delicious, and
that this damnable skill gives them the fineness and succulence
which are the delight of our best tables.
Thus ameliorated, the fowl is to the kitchen what the canvass is
to painters. To charlatans it is the cap of Fortunatus, and is
served up boiled, roasted, fried, hot, cold, whole or dismembered,
with or without sauce, broiled, stuffed, and always with equal
success.
Three portions of old France disputed for the honor of furnishing
the best fowls, viz: Caux, Mans, and Bresse.
In relation to capons, and about this there is some doubt, the one
on the table always seeming the best. Bresse seems, however, to
have pre-eminence in pullets, for they are round as an apple. It
is a pity they are so rare in Paris!