English mutton and lamb are as far-famed as English beef, and most
deservedly so. The unnamed but well-informed author of the hand-book on
Sheep in Vinton's Country Series (London) states the plain truth when
he declares that "it was because our forefathers had, during many
ages, been careful and skilful breeders of sheep that their descendants
were enabled to take the front rank in the world as improvers of these
as well as of horses, cattle, and pigs."
The English, undeniably, are in many ways an ungastronomic people, yet
when we reflect that they have given to the world the best butcher's
meats--mutton and pork, as well as beef--their claim to rank high
among gastronomic nations is established. Think of the important rôle
butcher's meat plays in our dietary!
It was not by a mere accident that Great Britain won supremacy in this
line, but in consequence of the application of principles of scientific
breeding, resembling those to which the Californian, Luther Burbank,
owed his startling successes in creating new fruits and vegetables of
superior size, tenderness, and Flavor.
It took the combined efforts of several English "Burbanks" to create
the ideal mutton chops and joints. The two who deserve the lion's share
of praise were Robert Bakewell and John Ellman.
Bakewell came first. Before his day, the fleece was the thing sheep
growers were mainly interested in. They wanted as big animals and as
much wool as possible.
Bakewell was not interested in wool. What he was after was an improved
mutton-producing breed--or rather one which, besides meat, yielded a
large amount of fat. That was what the market of his day demanded,
in consequence of the way in which mutton was served. The usual
practice, we read, "was to put a large joint of fat mutton over a
dish of potatoes at the workman's table. The meat went to the head of
the family; the potatoes, saturated with the meat and gravy, making a
savory meal for the junior members. Thousands in the manufacturing
and mining districts were for many years brought up in this way, so
that, in breeding fat sheep, Bakewell had a better warrant than would
apply in the present day, when fat is obtained in more palatable and
digestible form in butter and its cheaper imitations, and when the
working classes, as well as others, prefer to have lean and juicy
mutton."
An anecdote in Pitt's "General Survey of the Agriculture of Leicester"
(1809) throws further light on the situation: "Your mutton is so fat
that I cannot eat it," said a gentleman to Bakewell, who replied: "I
do not breed mutton for gentlemen, but for the public; and even my
mutton may be kept leaner to suit every palate by stocking harder in
proportion and by killing the sheep in time."
Gradually the "public's" taste for mutton became more "gentlemanly." At
present the article most in demand is a carcass weighing about twenty
pounds per quarter "with a large preponderance of lean flesh."
The change was accelerated by the activity of the Ellman family.
Whereas Bakewell had operated with the long-wool Leicester breed, the
meat of which was coarse-grained, with little delicacy or Flavor, the
Ellmans revealed to the world the superlative gastronomic attributes of
mutton yielded by the short-wool Southdowns.
In muttonland the Southdown is what the Bresse is in the chicken world.
In London markets you may find palatable meat cut from the carcasses
of the Wensleydale, the Suffolk, the Dorset, the Exmoor, the Irish
Roscommon, and other breeds; but the three breeds which are rated
highest for epicures are the Southdown, the Welsh Mountain, and the
Scotch Black-faced.
Note that all three are mountain sheep. It is to the hill-lands we must
go for meat of the finest Flavor. As a rule, we read in the admirable
Vinton book referred to, "the fleezy denizens of the mountains and
downs were distinguished by the excellence of their mutton, their
active habits, necessitated by long journeys in search of the scanty
food that was available, conducing to the development of the finest
quality of meat."
This point is gastronomically so very important that I will quote also
what Professor Tanner wrote on it, as long ago as 1869, in a paper on
the "Influence of Climate, etc., on Sheep," published in the "Journal
of the Royal Agricultural Society of England":
"The quality of the meat depends upon the lean portion being tender and
charged with a rich juice; and these results can only be obtained from
an animal of mature age, of active habits, and _fed upon short, sweet
herbage_. By activity of body the muscles are brought into exercise,
and a healthy growth is the consequence. The food being short and sweet
compels the sheep to take plenty of exercise to gather their supplies,
and the herbage being sweet and nutritious, in contra-distinction to
that which is coarse and immature, renders the meat savory, the gravy
dark and rich, and the meat palatable and digestible."
Professor Tanner evidently understood the importance of having the
right kind of feed--a subject on which much more will be said in a
later chapter, under the head of "Feeding Flavor Into Food."
The Southdown sheep, which have been happily called "small in size
but great in value," inhabit a district the characteristics of which
explain the incomparable Flavor of their mutton. The South Downs of
Sussex, from which they derive their name, "consist of a range of low,
chalky hills, five or six miles in breadth, stretching along the coast
for a distance of upwards of sixty miles and passing into the chalky
hills of Hampshire in the west."
All the Southdown mutton, as a matter of course, does not come from
one locality. The breed has been widely spread over the country and
also used for crossing; but under similar conditions there is no reason
why first-class mutton should not be produced in many localities.
Naturally, substitution is practised; and in England, as elsewhere, the
consumer is largely dependent on the honesty of his butcher. If the
butcher is a wise man, anxious to get rich, he will always provide the
best to those who know the difference and are willing to pay for it.
John Ellman devoted half a century to the improvement of Southdown
mutton, which is now grown in many English counties. Early maturity
has been one of the points aimed at; to-day Southdowns are fit for the
butcher at thirteen to fifteen months, and weigh many pounds more than
their predecessors did. Some epicures still ask for well-aged meat,
but the great buying public "prefer tender, fine-grained meat cut from
young sheep."
In some parts of the United States there is a decided prejudice against
mutton. No doubt this is due to the fact that many local markets are
supplied with the mutton of sheep which are raised chiefly for their
wool and yield inferior meat. It would hardly do to throw away the
carcases of these animals after they have served their purpose. But
surely those who can afford to pay for better meat from "mutton-sheep,"
ought everywhere to have a chance to do so. Mountains abound in our
country, and the breeders can, as already intimated, make sheep perform
any function they choose quite _à la_ Burbank.
We need men of brains who will let our gastronomic demands guide them
to wealth along this line as along so many others. Valuable hints
may be obtained in the Vinton book, from which I have repeatedly
quoted.[16]
One more citation from this creamy little book will help to emphasize
the statement I have just made:
"At the time of writing the importations of foreign mutton are very
large, as they have been for some years. In this way there is an
abundant supply of cheap, wholesome food, which, however, lacks the
flavor and quality of the home-bred mutton, and those who can afford it
will always give a higher price for the latter. The object, therefore,
of the home-breeder is to produce the _very best_ description of
mutton, _for which there is an increasing demand_."