As a rule, British inns and restaurants serve food as badly cooked as
it is in American "hash houses," if not more so. I have had experiences
with meat pies and sausages, with several kinds of pastry and with
tasteless vegetables that quite recalled the Arizona days before Fred
Harvey came from England--as related in the first chapter of this
book--to civilize our Southwest.
Adulteration of foods is largely practised, and many of them are
denatured by the use of chemical preservatives, although in these
respects there has been considerable improvement since the "Lancet"
exposed "the appalling state of the food supply" and fearlessly gave
the names and addresses of hundreds of manufacturers and tradesmen who
sold adulterated articles.
It was hoped that with the introduction of motoring there would come
a revival of the good old coaching inns; but nothing of the sort
has happened. According to the gastronomic editor of the "Pall Mall
Gazette" what the touring motorist gets is "probably an American
preserved soup which tastes like boiled blankets, a few sardines,
stale and too long opened, a joint which has either been overcooked or
under-done, a sodden pancake with no suggestion of the real thing,
and a piece of cheese which is obviously non-British. And for this he
is charged at least five shillings.... On the Continent one can get an
excellently cooked and served meal for half the price."
While the English are thus their own severest critics, they do not
hesitate, when brought to bay, to present the other side of the shield.
In commenting on the Exhibition of the Cookery and Food Association
in 1912, the London "Telegraph" called attention to the fact that
"typical dishes are served to perfection every day on innumerable
English tables"; and the writer just quoted, referring to the fact
that France, Austria, Hungary, Italy, and Switzerland had sent over
experts to show how things are done in their countries, goes on to say
that "it might humbly be suggested that our own cooks might show the
foreigners something. Few cooks, other than English, can cook whitebait
satisfactorily; the same applies to Irish stew, steak, and kidney
pudding with larks and oysters, to liver and bacon, to tripe and onions
(no, not _tripe à la mode de Caen_), to a really good devil, and above
all, to curry, wet or dry.... It is really about time that the British
cook asserted himself."
A German lexicographer calls attention to the fact that the
United Kingdom has contributed at least half a dozen words to the
international dining-room language: Beefsteak, roast beef, Irish stew,
mock-turtle soup, pudding, and toast. He might have added marmalade
and cakes. A firm in Germany once offered a thousand marks for a good
Teutonic equivalent for "cakes"; with what success I do not know.
It is not strange that Continental manufacturers are so much interested
in these British cakes and biscuits. They are favorites the world over
because of their crispness and good Flavor, and the exports of them
amount to about £1,400,000 a year.
Seven million dollars! Is there a better guide to wealth than
gastronomy, the art of preparing and serving appetizing food?
Plum pudding is another profitable product of British manufacturing
skill.
Though it has been traced to a Teutonic origin (_Pflaumen-grütze_)
it is now characteristically Anglican, and the plum (_Pflaume_) has
disappeared. In that monumental compendium of English philological
erudition, Murray's "New English Dictionary," we read as one of the
definitions of Plum: "a dried grape or raisin as used for puddings,
cakes, etc.," and the editor adds: "This use probably arose from the
substitution of raisins for dried plums or prunes as an ingredient in
plum-broth,--porridge, etc., with retention of the name plum for the
substituted article."
Considering the national liking for this pudding it is not surprising
that the word plum for this favorite was retained, for "plum" also
stands for tit-bit, or a good thing in general. As long ago as 1660
devotion to this dish was amusingly illustrated by these words in a
mock sermon: "But there is your Christmas pye and that hath plums
in abundance.... He that discovered the new Star in Cassiopeia ...
deserves not half so much to be remembered, as he that first married
minced meat and raisins together."
Until a few years ago the English housewife always boiled her own
plum pudding. To-day she can buy it if she desires. It is made by
machinery; hundreds of thousands of pounds are shipped to other
countries annually; and it is claimed that this kind is as a rule
superior in Flavor and digestibility to the home-made. It was during
the Boer war that the export business received its first great impulse,
thousands of pounds being sent to the soldiers in Africa to give them
a taste of the Christmas dinner at home; and now the pudding is made
in such large quantities that the United States Government has begun
to take cognizance of it in official reports. In the "Consular and
Trade Reports" (1911) Commercial Agent, John M. Carson, had a two-page
communication from which I cite the following:
The extent and magnitude of the trade may be inferred from
figures furnished by one of the several large manufacturers.
In order to be prepared to meet the demand for their product,
manufacturers begin active operations as soon as the new crops
of raisins, currants, and other required fruits appear in
September. All the constituents of plum pudding, which do not
include plums, are prepared and manipulated by elaborate and
expensive machinery. Currants are washed and stems removed,
raisins are stoned, nuts are shelled and ground, oranges and
lemons are peeled, the peel candied and cut up, eggs are
beaten, and all other ingredients prepared by machinery. The
manufacturing firm alluded to, in order to supply their trade
this season, used the materials and quantities given below.
Pounds.
Currants 145,800
Sugar 101,250
Peel 72,360
Suet 72,360
Bread crumbs 72,360
Flour 54,000
Raisins 48,330
Sultanas 48,330
China ginger 3,510
Spices 1,440
Almonds 400
Milk, gallons 948
Rum, gallons 948
Exclusive of milk and rum, the ingredients above enumerated
aggregate 620,140 pounds used by a single manufacturer in supplying
plum pudding to meet the demands of the Christmas season of 1910,
the number of puddings furnished aggregating 250,000. There are
three or four other London manufacturers each of whose output
perhaps equaled that described, and there are a large number of
smaller establishments in which plum pudding was supplied for home
and foreign consumption.
The pudding is put up in packages weighing one to five pounds each
and securely packed to insure preservation and safe transportation.
Properly prepared and packed the plum pudding of England, with
ordinary care on the part of the housewife, will retain its
virtues for a year or more.
Plum pudding has the evil repute of being indigestible. An English
friend informs me that while it certainly is so if boiled only three
hours, as is usually done, it becomes as digestible as good bread if
boiled seven hours. It is then compact and yet brittle.
[Illustration: Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese]
Still another profitable branch of the art of preparing appetizing
food is that of the cheesemaker. If imitation is the sincerest form
of flattery, the English makers of Cheddar cheese have been flattered
as few mortals have; for in the United States, as well as in Canada
and Australia, most of the cheese made is of the Cheddar type. There
would thus be no cause for exporting Cheddar, even if England had
any to spare; nor is much of the Cheshire sent abroad, its fragile
nature making it unsuitable for exportation, which is to be regretted,
because in the opinion of Dr. Voelker, shared by many epicures,
Cheshire is the finest flavored of British cheeses. It is made from
milk which is perfectly sweet, and to this its special aroma has been
attributed. For the third of the three best-known varieties of British
cheeses--Stilton--there is a considerable demand for the tables of
foreign epicures, as it exports well.
Stilton is a blue-molded cheese, which is manufactured of unskimmed
milk in a way similar to the methods of making the French Roquefort and
the Italian Gorgonzola. Like those, it owes its piquant Flavor to the
mold, which is artificially spread throughout the cheese in diverse
ways.[18]
Every American tourist who visits London goes to take a meal at Ye Olde
Cheshire Cheese, made famous by Dr. Johnson and Oliver Goldsmith, and
for three centuries the haunt of literary men, including Dickens and
Thackeray. Toasted cheese--cheese bubbling in tiny tins and tasting
like Welsh rarebit--was the original specialty of this place and is
still served unless you prefer a wedge of uncooked Cheshire. But what
ultimately made this place renowned throughout the world was its lark
pudding.
Fortunately it is lark no more but pigeon pudding; at least, so it
was frankly called when I ate it in September, 1912. What else it is
compounded of no one knows but the proprietor and the cook, who guard
the secret carefully. Kidney and steak and oysters are hinted at, and
diverse strong spices are certainly in it.
HAUNCH OF VENISON, 3/6. This day at 6 o'clock.
Friday, 13th September, 1912.
_BILL OF FARE._
READY FROM 12 NOON TO 9.30 P.M. s. d.
SIMPSON'S FISH DINNER, consisting of three kinds of Fish 3 9
Dinner from the Joint 2 6
Dinner from one Special Dish 2 6
Dinner from one Special Dish, with Joint to follow 3 0
Dinner from two Special Dishes 3 6
THE ABOVE PRICES INCLUDE VEGETABLES, CHEESE[†], BREAD AND BUTTER,
AND SALAD.