The mess just referred to, which would make a Parisian gourmet shudder,
is only one illustration of the Anglo-American mistaken policy of
serving together foods that are preferable separately. On this point,
too, France has an important lesson to teach us, particularly in the
serving of vegetables.
The making of a menu requires as much taste and judgment as the
arranging of a concert program. Next to variety, contrast is the
most important thing to be considered. A vegetable served separately
provides some of this needful contrast.
An English epicure declares that the secret of the excellence in French
cookery lies in the lavish use of vegetables. "Where we use one kind,
French cooks use twenty."
This point was sufficiently dwelt on in the paragraphs relating to
the making of savory soups and stews. It illustrates Gallic skill in
culinary _orchestration_. But the French know that at a dinner, as at a
concert, a _solo_ piece is desirable, and therefore they always serve
one choice vegetable as a separate course.
As a matter of course the vegetable selected for this distinction--be
it peas, beans, spinach, cauliflower, asparagus, artichoke, carrots,
or whatnot--must be particularly fresh and succulent. It must also,
like the singer's solo number, have an accompaniment, that is to say an
appropriate sauce.
No French cook would spoil the delicate natural flavor of green peas
with mint, as the English do. I once asked a waiter in a London
restaurant why mint was put with the peas. He promptly replied: "Peas
'ave no flavor, sir!"
In France, butter (French butter) is used as the best accompaniment to
a solo vegetable. It makes the string beans and whatever else it goes
with more savory, without obliterating their individual flavor, as the
mint does in the case of peas.