An animated controversy for a long time existed as to the best mode of
serving a dinner. Two distinct and clearly defined styles, known as the
English and Russian, each having its advantages and disadvantages, were
the subject of contention. It is perhaps fortunate that a compromise
between them has been so generally adopted by the fashionable classes in
England, France, and America as to constitute a new style, which
supersedes, in a measure, the other two.
In serving a dinner _à la Russe_, the table is decorated by placing the
dessert in a tasteful manner around a centre-piece of flowers. This
furnishes a happy mode of gratifying other senses than that of taste;
for while the appetite is being satisfied, the flowers exhale their
fragrance, and give to the eye what never fails to please the refined
and cultivated guest.
In this style the dishes are brought to the table already carved, and
ready for serving, thus depriving the cook of the power to display his
decorative art, and the host of his skill in carving. Each dish is
served as a separate course, only one vegetable being allowed for a
course, unless used merely for the purpose of garnishing.
The English mode is to set the whole of each course, often containing
many dishes, at once upon the table. Such dishes as require carving,
after having been once placed on the dinner-table, are removed to a
side-table, and there carved by an expert servant. Serving several
dishes at one time, of course, impairs the quality of many, on account
of the impossibility of keeping them hot. This might, in fact, render
some dishes quite worthless.
And now, before giving the details of serving a dinner on the newer
compromise plan, I will describe the “setting” or arranging of the
table, which may be advantageously adopted, whatever the mode of
serving.
In the first place, a round table five feet in diameter is the best
calculated to show off a dinner. If of this size, it may be decorated to
great advantage, and conveniently used for six or eight persons, without
enlargement.
Put a thick baize under the table-cloth. This is quite indispensable. It
prevents noise, and the finest and handsomest table-linen looks
comparatively thin and sleazy on a bare table.
Do not put starch in the napkins, as it renders them stiff and
disagreeable, and only a very little in the table-cloth. They should be
thick enough, and, at the same time, of fine enough texture, to have
firmness without starch. Too much can not be said as to the pleasant
effect of a dinner, when the table-linen is of spotless purity, and the
dishes and silver are perfectly bright.
Although many ornaments may be used in decorating the table, yet nothing
is so pretty and so indicative of a refined taste as flowers. If you
have no _épergne_ for them, use a _compotier_ or raised dish, with a
plate upon the top, to hold cut flowers; or place flower-pots with
blossoming plants on the table. A net-work of wire, painted green, or of
wood or crochet work, may be used to conceal the roughness of the
flower-pot. A still prettier arrangement is to set the pot in a
_jardinière_ vase.
At a dinner party, place a little bouquet by the side of the plate of
each lady, in a small glass or silver bouquet-holder. At the gentlemen’s
plates put a little bunch of three or four flowers, called a
_boutonnière_, in the folds of the napkin. As soon as the gentlemen are
seated at table, they may attach them to the left lapel of the coat.
Place the dessert in two or four fancy dessert-dishes around the
centre-piece, which, by-the-way, should not be high enough to obstruct
the view of persons sitting at opposite sides of the table. The dessert
will consist of fruits, fresh or candied, preserved ginger, or preserves
of any kind, fancy cakes, candies, nuts, raisins, etc.
Put as many knives, forks, and spoons by the side of the plate of each
person as will be necessary to use in all the different courses. Place
the knives and spoons on the right side, and the forks on the left side,
of the plates. This saves the trouble of replacing a knife and fork or
spoon as each course is brought on. Many prefer the latter arrangement,
as they object to the appearance of so many knives, etc., by the sides
of a plate. This is, of course, a matter of taste. I concede the
preferable appearance of the latter plan, but confess a great liking for
any arrangement which saves extra work and confusion.
Place the napkin, neatly folded, on the plate, with a piece of bread an
inch thick, and three inches long, or a small cold bread roll, in the
folds or on the top of the napkin.
Put a glass for water, and as many wine-glasses as are necessary at each
plate. Fill the water-glass just before the dinner is announced, unless
caraffes are used. These are kept on the table all the time, well filled
with water, one caraffe being sufficient for two or three persons. All
the wine intended to be served decanted should be placed on the table,
conveniently arranged at different points.
At opposite sides of the table place salt and pepper stands, together
with the different fancy spoons, crossed by their side, which may be
necessary at private dinners, for serving dishes.
Select as many plates as will be necessary for all the different
courses. Those intended for cold dishes, such as salad, dessert, etc.,
place on the sideboard, or at any convenient place. Have those plates
intended for dessert already prepared, with a finger-bowl on each plate.
The finger-glasses should be half filled with water, with a slice of
lemon in each, or a geranium leaf and one flower, or a little
_boutonnière_: a sprig of lemon-verbena is pretty, and leaves a pleasant
odor on the fingers after pressing it in the bowl. In Paris, the water
is generally warm, and scented with peppermint.
Some place folded fruit-napkins under each finger-bowl; others have
little fancy net-work mats, made of thread or crochet cotton, which are
intended to protect handsome painted dessert-plates from scratches which
the finger-bowls might possibly make.
The warm dishes--not _hot_ dishes--keep in a tin closet or on the top
shelf of the range until the moment of serving. A plate of bread should
also be on the sideboard.
Place the soup-tureen (with soup that has been brought to the
boiling-point just before serving) and the soup-plates before the seat
of the hostess.
Dinner being now ready, it should be announced by the butler or
dining-room maid. Never ring a bell for a meal. Bells do very well for
country inns and steamboats, but in private houses the _ménage_ should
be conducted with as little noise as possible.
With these preliminaries, one can see that it requires very little
trouble to serve the dinner. There should be no confusion or anxiety
about it. It is a simple routine. Each dish is served as a separate
course. The butler first places the pile of plates necessary for the
course before the host or hostess. He next sets the dish to be served
before the host or hostess, just beyond the pile of plates. The soup,
salad, and dessert should be placed invariably before the hostess, and
every other dish before the host. As each plate is ready, the host puts
it upon the small salver held by the butler, who then with his own hand
places this and the other plates in a similar manner on the table before
each of the guests. If a second dish is served in the course, the
butler, putting in it a spoon, presents it on the left side of each
person, allowing him to help himself. As soon as any one has finished
with his plate, the butler should remove it immediately, without waiting
for others to finish. This would take too much time. When all the plates
are removed, the butler should bring on the next course. It is not
necessary to use the crumb-scraper to clean the cloth until just before
the dessert is served. He should proceed in the same manner to
distribute and take off the plates until the dessert is served, when he
can leave the room.
This is little enough every-day ceremony for families of the most
moderate pretensions, and it is also enough for the finest dinner party,
with the simple addition of more waiters, and distribution of the work
among them. It is well that this simple ceremony should be daily
observed, for many reasons. The dishes themselves taste better;
moreover, the cook takes more pride, and is more particular to have his
articles well cooked, and to present a better appearance, when each dish
is in this way subjected to a special regard: and is it not always
preferable to have a few well-cooked dishes to many indifferently and
carelessly prepared? At the same time, each dish is in its perfection,
hot from the fire, and ready to be eaten at once; then, again, one has
the benefit of the full flavor of the dish, without mingling it with
that of a multiplicity of others. There is really very little extra work
in being absolutely methodical in every-day living. With this habit,
there ceases to be any anxiety in entertaining. There is nothing more
distressing at a dinner company than to see a hostess ill at ease, or to
detect an interchange of nervous glances between her and the servants. A
host and hostess seem insensibly to control the feelings of all the
guests, it matters not how many there may be. In well-appointed houses,
a word is not spoken at the dinner between the hostess and attendants.
What necessity, when the servants are in the daily practice of their
duties?
If one has nothing for dinner but soup, hash, and lettuce, put them on
the table in style: serve them in three courses, and one will imagine it
a much better dinner than if carelessly served.
Let it be remembered that the above is the rule prescribed for every-day
living. With large dinner parties, the plan might be changed, in one
respect, _i. e._, in having the dishes, in courses, put on the table for
exhibition, and then taken off, to be carved quickly and delicately at a
side-table by an experienced butler. This gives the host time to
entertain his guests at his ease, instead of being absorbed in the
fatiguing occupation of carving for twelve or fourteen people.
These rules in France constitute an invariable and daily custom for
private dinners, as well as for those of greater pretensions. Every
thing is served there also as a separate course, even each vegetable,
unless used as a garnish. In America and England this plan is not
generally liked, although in both these countries it is adopted by many.
Americans like, at least, one vegetable with each substantial, a taste,
it is to be hoped, that will not be changed by the dictates of fashion.
Then, if dishes are to be carved at a side-table, the one-vegetable plan
causes the placing of the principal dish on the table before carving to
appear more sensible.
When the butler places a dish on the table, and tarries a moment or so
for every one to look at it, if it does not happen to be so very
attractive in appearance the performance seems very absurd; but when,
after putting on the substantial dish, he places a vegetable dish at the
other end of the table, his taking the substantial to carve seems a more
rational proceeding.
I would suggest, when there is only one dish for a course, which is to
be taken off the table to be carved, that the dish should be put on
first; then, that the butler should return for the plates, instead of
placing the plates on first, as should be done in all other cases.
At small dinners, I would not have the butler to be carver. It is a
graceful and useful accomplishment for a gentleman to know how to carve
well. At small dinners, where the dishes can not be large, the attendant
labor must be light; and, in this case, does it not seem more hospitable
and home-like for the gentleman to carve himself? Does it not disarm
restraint, and mark the only difference there is between home and hotel
dinners?
In “Gastronomie,” M. M. believes in a compromise on the carving
question. He says, “There were professional carvers, and this important
art was anciently performed at the sound of music, and with appropriate
gesticulations. We wish our modern gourmands would follow the very good
example of Trimalchio in this respect, and, if they must have their
viands carved on the sideboard by servants, take care that, like his
carvers, they are trained to his art. We shall take the opportunity of
entering our protest against an innovation which is going too far. That
some of the more bulky pieces, the _pièces de résistance_, should be
placed on the sideboard, well and good, though even to this Addison
objected, and not without reason; but that the fish and the game should
be both bestowed and distributed, like rations to paupers, by
attendants, who, for the most part, can not distinguish between the head
and the tail of a mullet, the flesh and fin of a turbot, etc., is enough
to disturb the digestion of the most tolerant gastronome. We must say
that we like to see our dinner, especially the fish, and to see every
part of it, in good hands.”
Then, again, without paying a high price, one can not secure a waiter
who is a good carver. I am almost inclined to say one must possess the
luxury of a French waiter for carving at the side-table. English waiters
are good. The Irish are generally too awkward. Negroes are too slow. The
French are both graceful and expeditious.
Well, what can be done, then, when one has a dinner party, with no
expert carver, and the dishes are too large for the host to attempt? I
would advise in this case that the dinner should be served from the
side. A very great majority of large and even small dinners are served
in this manner.
The table, as usual, is decorated with flowers, fruits, etc., but the
dishes (_plats_) are not placed upon it; consequently the host has no
more duty to perform in the serving of the dinner than the guest. A
plate is placed on the table before each person, then the dish, prettily
decorated or neatly carved, if necessary, is presented to the left side,
so that each person may help himself from the dish. When these plates
are taken off, they are replaced by clean ones, and the dish of the next
course is presented in like manner. Many prefer to serve every course
from the side, as I have just indicated; others make an exception of the
dessert, which the hostess may consider a pretty acquisition to the
table, while the dish should not be an awkward one to serve.
Some proper person should be stationed in the kitchen or butler’s pantry
to carve and to see that the dishes are properly decorated. If the
hostess should apprehend unskillfulness in carving, the dinner might be
composed of chops, ribs, birds, etc., which require no cutting.
There are several hints about serving the table, which I will now
specify separately, in order to give them the prominence they deserve.
1st. The waiters should be expeditious without seeming to be in a hurry.
A dragging dinner is most tiresome. In France, the dishes and plates
seem to be changed almost by magic. An American senator told me that at
a dinner at the Tuileries, at which he was present, twenty-five courses
were served in an hour and a half. The whole entertainment, with the
after-dinner coffee, etc., lasted three hours. Upon this occasion, a
broken dish was never presented to the view of a guest. One waiter would
present a dish, beautifully garnished or decorated; and if the guest
signified assent, a plate with some of the same kind of food was served
him immediately from the broken dish at the side-table.
Much complaint has been made by persons accustomed to dinners abroad of
the tediousness of those given in Washington and New York, lasting, as
they often do, from three to five hours. It is an absolute affliction to
be obliged to sit for so long a time at table.
2d. Never overload a plate nor oversupply a table. It is a vulgar
hospitality. At a small dinner, no one should hesitate to ask for more,
if he desires it; it would only be considered a flattering tribute to
the dish.
At large companies, where there is necessarily a greater variety of
dishes, the most voracious appetite must be satisfied with a little of
each. Then, do not supply more than is absolutely needed; it is a
foolish and unfashionable waste. “Hospitality is not to be measured by
the square inch and calculated by cubic feet of beef or mutton.”
At a fashionable dinner party, if there are twelve or fourteen guests,
there should be twelve or fourteen birds, etc., served on the table--one
for each person. If uninvited persons should call, the servant could
mention at the door that madam has company at dinner. A sensible person
would immediately understand that the general machinery would be upset
by making an appearance. At small or private dinners, it would be, of
course, quite a different thing.
The French understand better than the people of any other nation how to
supply a table. “Their small family dinners are simply gems of
perfection. There is plenty for every person, yet every morsel is eaten.
The flowers or plants are fresh and odoriferous; the linen is a marvel
of whiteness; the dishes are few, but perfect of their kind.”
When you invite a person to a family dinner, do not attempt too much. It
is really more elegant to have the dinner appear as if it were an
every-day affair than to impress the guest, by an ostentatious variety,
that it is quite an especial event to ask a friend to dinner. Many
Americans are deterred from entertaining, because they think they can
not have company without a vulgar abundance, which is, of course, as
expensive and troublesome as it is coarse and unrefined.
For reasonable and sensible people, there is no dinner more satisfactory
than one consisting first of a soup, then a fish, garnished with boiled
potatoes, followed by a roast, also garnished with one vegetable;
perhaps an _entrée_, always a salad, some cheese, and a dessert. This,
well cooked and neatly and quietly served, is a stylish and good enough
dinner for any one, and is within the power of a gentleman or lady of
moderate means to give. “It is the exquisite quality of a dinner or a
wine that pleases us, not the multiplicity of dishes or vintages.”
3d. Never attempt a new dish with company--one that you are not entirely
sure of having cooked in the very best manner.
4th. Care must be taken about selecting a company for a dinner party,
for upon this depends the success of the entertainment. Always put the
question to yourself, when making up a dinner party, Why do I ask him or
her? And unless the answer be satisfactory, leave him or her out. Invite
them on some other occasion. If they are not sensible, social,
unaffected, and clever people, they will not only not contribute to the
agreeability of the dinner, but will positively be a serious impediment
to conversational inspiration and the general feeling of ease.
Consequently, one may consider it a compliment to be invited to a dinner
party.
5th. Have the distribution of seats at table so managed, using some tact
in the arrangement, that there need be no confusion, when the guests
enter the dining-room, about their being seated. If the guest of honor
be a lady, place her at the right of the host; if a gentleman, at the
right of the hostess.
If the dinner company be so large that the hostess can not easily place
her guests without confusion, have a little card on each plate bearing
the name of the person who is to occupy the place. Plain cards are well
enough; but the French design (they are designed in this country also)
beautiful cards for the purpose, illustrated with varieties of devices:
some are rollicking cherubs with capricious antics, who present
different tempting viands; autumn leaves and delicate flowers in chromo
form pretty surroundings for the names on others; yet the designs are so
various on these and the bill-of-fare cards that each hostess may seek
to find new ones, while frequent dinner-goers may have interesting
collections of these mementoes, which may serve to recall the occasions
in after-years.
6th. If the dinner is intended to be particularly fine, have bills of
fare, one for each person, written on little sheets of paper smoothly
cut in half, or on French bill-of-fare cards, which come for the
purpose. If expense is no object, and you entertain enough to justify
it, have cards for your own use especially engraved. Have your crest, or
perhaps a monogram, at the top of the card, and forms for different
courses following, so headed that you have only to fill out the space
with the special dishes for the occasion. I will give the example of a
form. The forms are often seen on the dinner-cards; yet, perhaps, they
are as often omitted, when the bills of fare are written, like those
given at the end of the book.
Bills of fare are generally written in French. It is a pity that our own
rich language is inadequate to the duties of a fashionable bill of fare,
especially when, perhaps, all the guests do not understand the Gallic
tongue, and the bill of fare (_menu_) for their accommodation might as
well be written in Choctaw. I will arrange a table with French names of
dishes for the aid of those preferring the French bills of fare. I would
say that some tact might be displayed in choosing which language to
employ.
+--------------------------+
| MENU. |
| ----- |
| Dîner du 15 Février. |
| ----- |
| Potages. |
| Poissons. |
| Hors-d’œuvres. |
| Relevés. |
| Entrées. |
| Rôtis. |
| Entremêts. |
| Glaces. |
| Dessert. |
+--------------------------+
If you are entertaining a ceremonious company, with tastes for the
frivolities of the world, or, perhaps, foreign embassadors, use
unhesitatingly the French bills of fare; but practical uncles and
substantial persons of learning and wit, who, perhaps, do not appreciate
the merits of languages which they do not understand, might consider you
demented to place one of these effusions before them. I would advise the
English bills of fare on these occasions.
7th. The attendants at table should make no noise. They should wear
slippers or light boots. “Nothing so distinguishes the style of
perfectly appointed houses from vulgar imitations as the quiet,
self-possessed movements of the attendants.” No word should be spoken
among them during dinner, nor should they even seem to notice the
conversation of the company at table.
8th. The waiter should wear a dress-coat, white vest, black trousers,
and white necktie; the waiting-maid, a neat black alpaca or a clean
calico dress, with a white apron.
9th. Although I would advise these rules to be generally followed, yet
it is as pleasant a change to see an individuality or a characteristic
taste displayed in the setting of the table and the choice of dishes as
in the appointments of our houses or in matters of toilet. At different
seasons the table might be changed to wear a more appropriate garb. It
may be solid, rich, and showy, or simple, light, and fresh.
10th. Aim to have a variety or change in dishes. It is as necessary to
the stomach and to the enjoyment of the table as is change of scene for
the mind. Even large and expensive state dinners become very monotonous
when one finds everywhere the same choice of dishes. Mr. Walker, in his
“Original,” says: “To order dinner is a matter of invention and
combination. It involves novelty, simplicity, and taste; whereas, in the
generality of dinners, there is no character but that of routine,
according to the season.”
11th. Although many fashionable dinners are of from three to four hours’
duration, I think every minute over two hours is a “stately durance
vile.” After that time, one can have no appetite; conversation must be
forced. It is preferable to have the dinner a short one than a minute
too long. If one rises from a fine dinner wearied and satiated, the
memory of the whole occasion must be tinged with this last impression.
12th. There is a variety of opinions as to who should be first served at
table. Many of the _haut monde_ insist that the hostess should be first
attended to. Once, when visiting a family with an elegant establishment,
who, with cultivated tastes and years of traveling experience, prided
themselves on their _savoir faire_, one of the members said, “Yes, if
Queen Victoria were our guest, our sister, who presides at table, should
always be served first.” The custom originated in ancient times, when
the hospitable fashion of poisoning was in vogue. Then the guests
preferred to see the hostess partake of each dish before venturing
themselves. Poisoning is not now the order of the day, beyond what is
accomplished by rich pastry and plum-puddings. If there be but one
attendant, the lady guest sitting at the right of the host or the oldest
lady should be first served. There are certain natural instincts of
propriety which fashion or custom can not regulate. As soon as the
second person is helped, there should be no further waiting before
eating.
13th. Have chairs of equal height at table. Perhaps every one may know
by experience the trial to his good humor in finding himself perched
above or sunk below the general level.
14th. The selection of china for the table offers an elegant field in
which to display one’s taste. The most economical choice for durability
is this: put your extra money in a handsome dessert set, all (except the
plates) of which are displayed on the table all the time during dinner;
then select the remainder of the service in plain white, or white and
gilt, china. When any dish is broken, it can be easily matched and
replaced.
A set of china decorated in color to match the color of the dining-room
is exceedingly tasteful. This choice is not an economical one, as it is
necessary to replace broken pieces by having new ones manufactured--an
expense quite equal to the extra trouble required to imitate a dish made
in another country.
By far the most elegant arrangement consists in having different sets of
plates, each set of a different pattern, for every course. Here is an
unlimited field for exquisite taste. Let the meat and vegetable dishes
be of plated silver. Let the _épergne_ or centre-piece (holding flowers
or fruit) be of silver, or perhaps it might be preferred of majolica, of
bisque, or of glass. The majolica ware is very fashionable now, and
dessert, oyster, and salad sets of it are exceedingly pretty. A set of
majolica plates, imitating pink shells, with a large pink-shell platter,
is very pretty, and appropriate for almost any course. Oyster-plates in
French ware imitate five oyster-shells, with a miniature cup in the
centre for holding the lemon. There are other patterns of oyster-plates
in majolica of the most gorgeous colors, where each rim is concaved in
six shells to hold as many oysters. The harlequin dessert sets are
interesting, where every plate is not only different in design and
color, but is a specimen of different kinds of ware as well. In these
sets the Dresden, French, and painted plates of any ware that suits the
fancy are combined.
A set of plates for a course at dinner is unique in the Chinese or
Japanese patterns. Dessert sets of Bohemian glass or of cut-glass are a
novelty; however, the painted sets seem more appropriate for the dessert
(fruits, etc.), while glass sets are tasteful for jellies, cold
puddings, etc., or what are called the cold _entremêts_ served just
before the dessert proper.
But it seems difficult, in entering the Colamores’ and other large
places of the kind in New York, to know what to select, there are such
myriads of exquisite plates, table ornaments, and fairy-lands of glass.
I consider the table ornaments in silver much less attractive than those
in fancy ware. There are lovely maidens in bisque, reclining, while they
hold painted oval dishes for a jelly, a Bavarian cream, or for flowers
or fruit; cherub boys in majolica, tugging away with wheelbarrows, which
should be loaded with flowers; antique water-jugs; cheese-plates in
Venetian glass; clusters of lilies from mirror bases to hold flowers or
_bonbons_; tripods of dolphins, with great pink mouths, to hold salt and
pepper.
If a lady, with tastes to cultivate in her family, can afford elegancies
in dress, let her retrench in that, and bid farewell to all her ugly and
insipid white china; let wedding presents consist more of these
ornaments (which may serve to decorate any room), and less of silver
salt-cellars, pepper-stands, and pickle-forks.
Senator Sumner was a lover of the ceramic art. His table presented a
delightful study to the connoisseur, with its different courses of
plates, all different and _recherché_ in design. Nothing aroused this
inimitable host at a dinner party from his literary labors more
effectually than a special announcement to him by Marley of the arrival
from Europe of a new set of quaint and elegant specimens of China ware.
He would repair to New York on the next train.
15th. I will close these suggestions by copying from an English book a
practical drill exercise for serving at table. The dishes are served
from the side-table.
“Let us suppose a table laid for eight persons, dressed in its best; as
attendants, only two persons--a butler and a footman, or one of these,
with a page or neat waiting-maid; and let us suppose some one stationed
outside the door in the butler’s pantry to do nothing but fetch up, or
hand, or carry off dishes, one by one:
While guests are being seated, person from outside brings up soup;
Footman receives soup at door;
Butler serves it out;
Footman hands it;
Both change plates.
Footman takes out soup, and receives fish at door; while butler hands wine;
Butler serves out fish;
Footman hands it (plate in one hand, and sauce in the other);
Both change plates.
Footman brings in _entrée_, while butler hands wine;
Butler hands _entrée_;
Footman hands vegetables;
Both change plates,
Etc., etc.
“The carving of the joint seems the only difficulty. However, it will
not take long for an expert carver to cut eight pieces.”