THE CELLAR FOR WINES.
The cellar for good wine should be a suitable lodging for this welcome
guest in every well arranged household. A great deal of wine, good
and middling, is spoiled beyond redemption from being deposited in a
bad cellar. There are many families in this great metropolis who, if
well lodged themselves, never bestow a thought on how their wine is
lodged. Yet this is a matter of essential importance if the master of a
household consults his own health or the health of his guests.
A wine cellar should neither be too hot nor too cold. It should
neither be near the kitchen, the scullery, nor the laundry fire; nor
yet out of doors, exposed to every change of temperature in this
variable climate. No gentleman valuing the quality of his wine,
or the health of those who are to drink it, would convert a spare
bed-room, or cock-loft, or cupboard into a wine cellar, though in
a warm climate Madeira may be improved by being placed under the
sun’s rays on the leads of dwelling-houses, a system much practised
in the great cities of America. A cellar, as Mr. Redding clearly and
succinctly says, “should be a cellar in material, site, temperature,
and solidity of construction.” The finer and more delicate wines grow
turbid, ropy, or sharp when stowed away in unfitting localities. In
such a city as London, all one can hope for or expect is to secure a
cellar of an equal temperature, solidly constructed of brick or stone.
The variations of the external atmosphere should not be allowed to
penetrate within it. As Barry wrote ninety years ago, “the structure of
a wine cellar ought to be such as will most effectually defend the wine
from the frequent variations of the external air, adjacent fires, and
the agitation of carriages, and to preserve an equal degree of heat,
though some variations must be unavoidable.”
Lighter wines require a colder cellar than the strong wines; but, as a
general direction, the temperature of a cellar ought to be from about
forty to fifty degrees. The size of a cellar ought to be in proportion
to the quantity of wine for which it is designed. The situation ought
to be low and dry. Double doors are an advantage to every cellar, as
one may be closed before the other is opened, and thus the changes of
the external atmosphere cannot penetrate. Cellars in private houses
are rarely ventilated, and thus foul air is frequently generated. In
cities the back of the house is the best place for the wine cellar,
as the bottles are not then shaken in their bins by the motion of
carriages.
No sink or sewer should be in the neighbourhood of a cellar, and no
vegetable or animal matter should be deposited adjacent to it. A wine
cellar should contain no other liquor than wine. Champagne should be
carefully laid on laths or in sand, and never placed on their bottoms,
as from this cause the wine will speedily lose its effervescence.
Quarry sand is the best substance in which to imbed the bottles, and
laths should be placed between each tier.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
APPENDIX.
LUXURIES OF THE TABLE IN FRANCE AND IN ENGLAND,
IN MEDIÆVAL AND MODERN TIMES.
According to Brantome, the first nobleman in France who introduced at
court a more luxurious table was the Marshal St. André. The historian
thus speaks of him:--“Et certes estoit par trop excessif en friandises
et délicatesse de viandes, tant de chair que de poisson et autres
friands mangers, tellement que quelqu’un qui n’eust ouy que de sa
vie délicieuse n’eust jamais pu n’y en juger n’y croire qu’il fust
esté si Grand Capitaine.” Among the kings of France, the first who
distinguished himself by this sumptuosity of fare was Francis I., and
he carried his table extravagance to a foolish and absurd extent; for
besides the unequalled luxury of the royal table, there were, according
to Brantôme, the tables of the grand master, of the great chamberlain,
of the chamberlain, of the gentlemen of the chamber, of the gentlemen
servants, and ever so many others. The graphic memoir writer, the
Seigneur de Bourdeille adds:--“Et toutes si bien servies que rien n’y
manquoit. Et ce qui estoit plus remarquable c’est que dans un village,
dans les forêts, dans les assemblées, l’on y estoit traité comme si
l’on eust esté dans Paris.”
Henri II. and Francis II. kept as good a table as their father and
grandfather; but things changed under Charles IX. and Henry III., of
whom Brantôme says, “C’était par boutades que l’on y faisoit bonne
chere, car le plus souvent la marmité se renversoit; chose que hait
beaucoup le courtesan qui aimeà avoir bouche à cour et à l’armée
parceque alors il ne lui conte rien.”
Henry IV., for a long time, was as “heinously unprovided” (to use a
Shakespearian phrase) as his royal predecessor. His finances were so
straitened, say the “Memoirs of the Duke of Angouleme,” “que souvent
sa table manquoit, et qu’il se trouvoit contraint d’aller manger chez
quelqu’un de ses sérviteurs.” Louis XIII. established, in a great
degree, the luxury of Francis I.; and Louis XIV., to use the words
of Le Grand, effaced even the remembrance of the repasts of the most
luxurious of former kings, by his elaborate feasts. It was under
his reign that “collations grasses” were eaten after dinner. Madame
de Sévigné writes, in 1680, “La Princesse de Tarente m’a faite une
collation en viande; je la lui ai rendue. C’est une sotte mode; je
pense que cela ne durera pas.” Bélon, who published his “Traité des
Oiseaux,” in 1555, describes how magnificently the dinner tables were
served in that day. “Pour entrées,” he says, “nous avons mille petits
deguisemens de chair comme potages, fricassées, hachis, salades. Le
second service est de rôti, de bouilli, de diverses viandes, tout de
boucherie que de gibier. Pour issue de table choses froides comme
fruictages, laictages, et doulceurs, rissoles, petits choux tout
chauds, petits gateaux caveux, ratons de fromage, pommes de capendu,
salade de citron ou de grenades.”
Gontier, who wrote in the seventeenth century, complains of the luxury
of the dinners in 1668, at which period, he says, there were no less
than eight courses. The “Mercure Galant” gives a description of the
royal banquet that was given at Versailles, for the marriage of
Mademoiselle de Blois, natural daughter of Louis XIV., with the Prince
of Conti. At this feast there were three courses of 160 dishes at
each course. The first course was half soups and half _entrées_;
the second, half in _entremets_ and half in roasts; the third,
dessert. The roasts were all small, and the ortolans alone cost 16,000
francs.
Later in the reign of Louis XIV., the mode of serving dinners in France
a good deal resembled the system followed in the present day. In the
entertainment given by Louvois to the Queen at Meudon, covers were laid
for nineteen, and there were four courses.
The first course consisted of forty _entrées_, the second of forty
roasts and salads, the third of hot and cold _entremets_, and the
last course of dessert. In the kitchen of Louis XV. there were about
thirty cooks employed, and four _pâtissiers-bouche_.
I now proceed to give a few bills of fare, from the days of Louis XIV.
to the present time.
The first is the _menu_ of a dinner given 212 years ago by Matthew
Molé, keeper of the seals in France to Mons. Le Prince Louis de
Bourbon-Condé, on the 9th August, 1652:--
MENEU DU DISNER QUI FUST DONNÉ PAR MESSIRE MATHIEU MOLÉ,
GARDE DES SCEAUX DE FRANCE, À MONSIEUR LE PRINCE (LOUIS DE
BOURBON-CONDÉ), LE SAMEDI, 9 ΑOUT, 1652.
_XIV. potages maigres_,
dont
1 aux écrevisses du Rhyn et
vin d’Espaigne,
et l’aultre
aux huistres d’Angoulesme et
œufs de perdrix rouges,
lesquels servis aux deux costés
de son Altesse.
_XIV. plats de poissons._
1 un saulmon de vingt escus.
1 brochet de 19 liures.
1 carpe aux œufs, de Champlastreux.
1 truite de Suysse, 24 liures.
1 turbot du Hasvre de Grasce.
1 matelotte de lamperoyes d’Angers.
1 hochepot de gibiers de riuiesre.
1 gibelotte de poissons meslés.
1 anguille à la broche, 9 liures 16 sols.
1 pasté de barbottes du Rhosne.
1 fricassée de lottes aux asperges.
1 de morue fraische aux groseilles uerdes.
1 d’aloses de Rouen grillées.
1 d’esperlants farinnés au cédrat.
_XIV. plats de rost._
6 de poissons cuits au bleu.
4 de poissons à la poisle.
4 de gibiers de riuiesre, à la broche.
_XIV. sallades._
3 de légumes cuits.
3 d’herbes uerdes.
6 d’œufs accommodés diuersement.
2 de citrons musqués, 10 escus.
_XIV. assiettes gauffrées._
7 de pastisseries à fonds de cresme.
7 de pastisseries à fonds de fruict.
_XVIII. jattes de fruicts et aultres_,
desquels
6 agnanats touts entiers
et 12 pacquets de fleurs de joncquilles à confire.
Dont cxii. escus pour le coust d’yceulx fruicts et fleurs, et pour le
tout de la despense généralle, mil neuf cens soixante et cinq liures,
et unze sols,
Que certifie iuste et uallable:
MAUGIS.
Apprevvay cette partie de Mavgis.
Bon povr 1965 livres 11 sols, que playra payer
à lvy maistre Lordier de Lestanville.
MOLÉ.
The second is the _menu_ of a supper of the Regent Orleans, moitié
gras, moitié maigre:--
MENU D’UNE TABLE DE DOUZE COUVERTS, POUR UN SOUPER
DU RÉGENT, SERVI MOITIÉ GRAS, MOITIÉ MAIGRE.
Pour le milieu une grosse pièce,
Deux potages pour les bouts de table:
Dix entrées, savoir, quatre jattes et six plats à festons, &c.
PREMIER SERVICE.
1 pièce de bœuf salé, garnie de carottes et de patates.
_Deux potages, savoir:_
1 maigre, coulis de brochet (un brochet).
1 de navets (un canard dessus).
_Dix entrées, savoir: quatre dans quatre jattes, et six dans
six plats à festons._
_Les quatre jattes, savoir:_
1 de filets de mouton glacés et piqués, et des cornichons
par-dessus.
1 de poulets piqués de persil, avec une sauce à l’espagnole dessous
(2 poulets).
1 de brochets à la polonaise (un brochet).
1 de perches à la génevoise (6 perches, une bouteille de vin blanc).
_Les six plats à festons, savoir:_
1 de saurcroûte au maigre (un brochet).
1 quarteron d’huîtres, cuites avec une pinte de crême.
1 d’une noix de veau à la napolitaine.
1 de perdreaux en levraut (3 perdreaux).
1 d’anguilles à la bavaroise (2 belles anguilles).
1 demi-cent de belles écrevisses.
_Deux plats de poissons pour relever les potages, savoir:_
1 d’une carpe à l’anglaise.
1 de Water Fisch (2 douzaines de petites perches, quatre petits
brochetons).
SECOND SERVICE.
1 reins de sanglier marinés.
_Deux plats de pâtisserie, savoir:_
1 d’un gâteau fourré de marmelade d’abricots.
1 d’une tourte à la glace (6 pêches à l’eau-de-vie, une pinte de
crême).
_Quatre plats de rôt, savoir:_
1 d’éperlans frits, trempés dans des œufs et panés.
1 de 2 poulardes.
1 de soles frites (2 belles soles).
1 de 2 canards sauvages.
_Quatre salades différentes avec quatre différentes sauces._
_Quatre petits entremets chauds, savoir:_
1 de ris de veau piqués et glacés (6 ris de veau).
1 de pieds de cochon à la Sainte-Ménéhould.
1 de petits pois secs à la crême, d’œufs pochés dessus.
1 de pommes de reinette à la chinoise (6 oranges confites).
The following is the _menu_ of a supper of Louis XV. at La Muette,
on 18th February, 1749:--
SOUPER DU ROI LOUIS XV. À LA MUETTE, LE
SAMEDI, 18 FÉVRIER, 1749.
_Deux grandes entrées._
Un râble de mouton de montagne.
Un quartier de veau, une blanquette dans le cuisseau.
_Deux oilles._
1 au riz.
1 à la jambe de bois.
_Deux potages._
1 à la faubonne.
1 aux choux verts.
_Seize entrées._
1 de côtelettes mêlées.
1 de petits pâtés à la Béchameil.
1 de langues de moutons à la duchesse.
1 de petits pigeons aux truffes entières.
1 de haricot de mouton aux navets.
1 de boudins d’écrevisses.
1 de filets de poularde à la d’Armagnac.
1 de matelote à la Dauphine.
1 de noix de veau aux épinards.
1 de membres de faisan à la Conty.
1 de filets de perdreau à la Périgueux.
1 de petits poulets à l’Urlubie.
1 de ris de veau à la Sainte-Ménéhould.
1 sarcelles à l’orange.
1 lapereaux en crépines.
1 poules de Caux en escalopes.
_Quatre relevés._
1 dindonneau à la peau de goret, sauce Robert.
1 pâté de bécassines.
1 quartier de sanglier.
1 noix de bœuf aux choux-fleurs.
_Deux grands entremets._
1 pâté de jambon.
1 gâteau de Savoie.
_Quatre moyens._
2 de buissons d’écrevisses.
2 gâteaux au fromage.
_Huit plats de rôts non mention-nés.--Seize entremets._
1 de cardes au jus.
1 de crêtes au bouillon.
1 d’amourettes.
1 de foies gras grillés.
1 de ragoûts mêlés à la crême.
1 de crême au chocolat.
1 d’abaisse de massepain.
1 d’œufs à l’infante.
1 d’huîtres au gratin.
1 de pattes de dindon à l’espagnole.
1 d’asperges.
1 de truffles à la cendre.
1 de crême glacée.
1 de canelons meringués.
1 de choux-fleurs.
Here is a _Carte Dinatoire_ for twelve persons, for the table of
the Citoyen Directeur et Général Barras, le Décadi, trente floréal:--
CARTE DINATOIRE POUR LA TABLE DU CITOYEN DIRECTEUR ET
GÉNÉRAL BARRAS, LE DÉCADI, 30 FLORÉAL. DOUZE PERSONNES.
(Autographes de M. Théodore Vivien.)
1 potage.
1 relevé.
6 entrées.
2 plats de rôt.
6 entremets.
1 salade.
24 plats de dessert.
* * * * *
Le potage aux petits ognons à la ci-devant minime.
Le relevé; un tronçon d’esturgeon à la broche.
_Les six entrées._
1 d’un sauté de filets de turbot à l’homme de confiance ci-devant
maître-d’hôtel.
1 d’anguilles à la tartare.
1 concombres farcis à la moelle.
1 vol-au-vent de blanc de volaille à la Béchameil.
1 d’un ci-devant Saint-Pierre, sauce aux câpres.
1 de filets de perdrix en anneaux.
_Les deux plats de rôt._
1 de goujons du département.
1 d’une carpe au court-bouillon.
_Les six entremets._
1 d’œufs à la neige.
1 de betteraves blanches, sautées au jambon.
1 d’une gelée au vin de Madère.
1 de beignets de crême à la fleur d’orange.
1 de lentilles à la ci-devant Reine, à la crème au blond de veau.
1 de culs d’artichauts à la ravigote.
1 salade; céleri en rémoulade.
Trop de poisson. Otez les goujons. Le reste est bien. Qu’on n’oublie
pas encore de mettre des coussins sur les siéges pour les citoyennes
Tallien, Talma, Beauharnais, Hinguerlot et Mirande.
Et pour cinq heures très-précises.
Signé BARRAS.
Faites venir des glaces de Veloni. Je n’en veux pas d’autres.
Here is a _menu_ of a dinner served to the Emperor Napoleon and
his family, on the Samedi Saint, 1811:--
MENU D’UN DÎNER DE LA FAMILLE BONAPARTE, AUX TUILERIES.
_Deux potages._
Au macaroni et purée de marrons.
_Deux relevés._
Une pièce de bœuf bouillie, garnie de légumes.
Un brochet à la Chambord.
_Quatre entrées._
Côtelettes de mouton à la Soubise.
Perdreaux à la Montglas.
Fricassée de poulet à la chevalière.
Filets de canard au fumet.
_Deux rôtis._
Un chapon au cresson.
Un gigot d’agneau.
_Deux plats de légumes._
Des choux-fleurs au gratin.
Du céleri-navet au jus.
_Quatre entremets au sucre._
Crême au café.
Gelée d’orange.
Génoise décorée.
Gauffres à l’allemande.
Now comes the first dinner _en maigre_ which Louis XVIII. had at
Compiegne. It is certainly a most _recherché_ one:--
PREMIER DINER DU ROI LOUIS XVIII., À COMPIEGNE.
(En Maigre.)
_Quatre potages._
Potage de poisson à la provençale.
Nouilles à l’essence de racines.
Potage à la d’Artois à l’essence de racines.
Filets de lottes aux écrevisses.
_Quatre relevés de poissons._
Croquettes de brochet à la Béchameil.
Vol-au-vent garni de brandade de morue aux truffes.
Filets de soles à la Dauphine.
Orly de filets de carrelets.
_Quatre grosses pièces._
Turbot au beurre d’anchois.
Grosse anguille à la Régence.
Bar à la vénitienne.
Saumon, sauce aux huîtres.
_Trente-deux entrées._
Escalopes de truites aux fines herbes.
Sauté de filets de plongeons au suprême.
Vol-au-vent de poissons à la Nesle.
Petites caisses de foies de lottes.
_Les croquettes de brochets._
Raie bouclée à la hollandaise.
Bayonnaise de filets de soles.
Quenelles de poisson à l’italienne.
Grondins grillés, sauce au beurre.
_La grosse anguille à la Régence._
Blanquette de turbot à la Béchameil.
Pain de carpes au beurre d’écrevisses.
Salade de filets de brochet aux laitues.
Filets d’alose à l’oseille.
_La marinade de bonne morue._
Plies à la poulette.
Pâté chaud de lamproies.
Pluviers de mer en entrée de broche.
Brême à la maître-d’hôtel.
Rougets à la hollandaise.
Filets de sarcelles à la bigarade.
Timbale de macaroni garnie de laitances.
Emincé de turbotin gratiné.
_Les filets de soles à la Dauphine._
Perches au vin de Champagne.
Darne d’esturgeon au beurre de Montpelier.
Turban de filets de merlans à la Conty.
Escalopes de morue à la provençale.
_La bar à la vénitienne._
Papillotes de surmulet à la d’Huxelles.
Boudins de poisson à la Richelieu.
Vives froides à la provençale.
Sauté de lottes aux truffes.
_La orly de filets de carrelets._
Caisse d’huîtres aux fines herbes.
Escalopes de barbue en croustade.
Filets de poules d’eau à la bourguignonne.
Eperlans à l’anglaise.
_Quatre grosses pièces d’entremets._
L’hermitage indien.
Le pavillon rustique.
Le pavillon hollandais.
L’hermitage russe.
_Quatre plats de rôts pour les contre-flancs._
Aiguillettes de goujons.
Poules de mer.
Sarcelles au citron.
Petites truites au bleu.
_Trente-deux entremets._
Céleri à l’essence maigre.
Gelée de punch.
Œufs brouillés aux truffes.
Petits nougats de pommes.
_Les aiguillettes de goujons._
Gâteau renversé au gros sucre.
Truffes à l’italienne.
Pudding au vin de Malvoisie.
Choux-fleurs au parmesan.
_L’hermitage Indien._
Laitues au jus de racines.
Blanc-manger à la crême.
Buisson de homards.
Gâteaux glacés à la Condé.
_Les poules de mer._
Petits soufflés de fécule.
Œufs pochés à la ravigote.
Gelée de citrons moulée.
Champignons à l’espagnole.
Concombres au velouté.
Gelée de café Moka.
Œufs pochés aux épinards.
Génoises en croissant perlées.
_Les sarcelles au citron._
Gâteaux glacés aux pistaches.
Crevettes en hérisson.
Fromage bavarois aux abricots.
Les pommes de terre à la hollandaise.
_L’hermitage Russe._
Cardes au jus d’esturgeon.
Pommes au riz glacées.
Truffes à la serviette.
Petits gâteaux de Pithiviers.
_Les petites truites au bleu._
Panachées en diadème au gros sucre.
Petites omelettes à la purée de champignons.
Gelée des quatre fruits.
Salsifis à la ravigote.
_Pour extra, dix assiettes de petits soufflés en croustades._
Soufflés aux macarons amers.
Soufflés à l’orange.
_Dessert._
8 Corbeilles et 10 corbillons.
12 Assiettes montées.
10 Compotiers.
24 Assiettes et 6 jattes.
There is now the bill of fare of the dinner given by the Emperor
Alexander, on his birthday, at Vertus, near Chalôns, on the 11th
September, 1815. Covers were laid for 300, and the dinner began with
600 plates of oysters, for which 300 lemons were provided:--
DINER DE L’EMPEREUR ALEXANDRE, À VERTUS, PRÈS
CHALONS-SUR-MARNE, LE 11 SEPTEMBRE, 1815, JOUR ANNIVERSAIRE DE
LA NAISSANCE DE SA MAJESTÉ.
(Table de 300 couverts, servie à la russe.)
600 assiettes d’huîtres, 300 citrons.
PREMIER SERVICE.
Les huîtres, les citrons.
_Trois potages._
Potage à la jardinière pour 150 personnes.
Soupe froide à la russe pour 150 personnes.
Crécy aux petits croûtons pour 150 personnes.
_Vingt-huit hors-d’œuvres._
De petits vol-au-vent à la purée de gibier.
_Vingt-huit entrées froides._
De galantines de poulardes à la gelée.
_Vingt-huit grosses pièces._
De filets de bœuf au vin de Madère, demi-espagnole.
_Cent douze entrées._
50 de filets de soles à la Orly, garnis d’une escalope de saumon.
12 de cailles aux fines herbes dans des bordures de racines.
25 de sautés de poulets au suprême, ragoût à la Toulouse.
25 de timbales de macaronis au chasseur.
_Vingt-huit plats de rôts._
10 de poulets gras, 10 de dindonneaux, 8 longes de veau.
60 salades pour 300 personnes.
_Cinquante entremets de légumes._
25 d’épinards au velouté.
25 de haricots verts à l’anglaise.
_Cinquante-six entremets au sucre._
De crèmes françaises à la vanille et de génoises aux amandes pralinées.
Huit souillés d’extra pour être placés à portée de S. M. Impériale.
60 assiettes de pâtisseries de petit four.
60 assiettes de fruits crus.
60 assiettes de fruits confits.
60 assiettes de fruits à l’eau-de-vie.
20 assiettes de fromages de France, &c.
Underneath is the bill of fare of the first diplomatic dinner given by
the Duke of Wellington, when ambassador in Paris, in 1815. It will be
seen that the fare was simple, and most of the dishes dressed in the
English fashion:--
PREMIER DÎNER DIPLOMATIQUE DE L’AMBASSADEUR D’ANGLETERRE À
PARIS. MENU D’UN SERVICE À L’ANGLAISE POUR 20 COUVERTS.
PREMIER SERVICE.
_Potage._
1 potage de tête de veau en fausse tartine.
_Deux bouts de table._
1 d’un dindon bouilli, sauce au céleri.
1 rosbif aux pommes de terre.
_Six entrées._
1 d’une tranche de saumon bouillie, sauce aux câpres. Purée de navets.
1 de deux lapereaux, sauce aux ognons. Choux-fleurs sans sauce.
1 de quatre escalopes de veau.
1 de maquereaux bouillis, sauce au fenouil. Epinards bouillis à
l’anglaise.
1 deux poulets, sauce au
persil. Purée de pommes de terre.
1 de perdreaux étuvés. Bread sauce.
SECOND SERVICE.
_Milieu._
1 quartier de chevreuil à la broche, sauce à la gelée de groseilles.
1 d’une poularde rôtie.
1 d’un levraut farci.
_Deux salades._
1 d’herbes vertes.
1 de citrons entiers.
_Six entremets._
1 d’une gelée de vin de Madère.
1 d’un plum-pudding.
1 d’une tourte aux confitures.
1 de welches rabbits.
1 d’un pudding de riz.
1 d’une gelée de citrons.
_Treize assiettes de dessert._
2 compotes.
4 assiettes de fruits crus.
2 de biscuits.
2 de mendiants.
2 de fromages.
1 assiette montée.
I conclude French bills of fare with a _menu_ of a royal banquet
given at the Tuileries, on Twelfth-day, 1820, at which Louis XVIII.,
Monsieur (afterwards Charles X.), and the Duchess of Angouleme, the
Duke and Duchess of Berri, the Duke and Duchess of Orleans, the Duke
and Duchess of Bourbon were present:--
MENU DU GRAND-COUVERT, OU BANQUET ROYAL AUX TUILERIES,
POUR LE JOUR DES ROIS, 6 JANVIER, 1820.
_Deux potages._
Printanier de santé.
Bisque d’écrevisses.
_Quatre grosses pièces._
Faon de daim à la broche.
Turbot, sauce aux huîtres et aux moules.
Carpe à la Régence.
Casserole au riz à la Saint-Hubert.
_Seize entrées._
Filets glacés aux laitues.
Sauté de filets de perdreaux aux truffes.
Grenadins de filets de lapereaux à la Toulouse.
Côtelettes de chevreuil à la Soubise.
Filets de lottes à la Villeroy, sauce vénitienne.
Quenelles de volailles au consommé réduit.
Attelets à la Bellevue à la gelée.
Escalopes de levrauts au sang.
Poularde à l’estragon.
Cremeskis au velouté.
Blanquette (le filets de poulardes à la Conty.
Perches à la waterfisch.
Poulets à la Reine à la Chevry.
Petits pâtés à la Béchameil.
Filets d’agneaux aux pointes d’asperges.
Purée de gibier à la polonaise.
_Quatre grosses pièces._
Buisson d’écrevisses.
Sultane à la Chantilly.
Soufflé au fromage.
Jambon de sanglier glace.
_Quatre plats de rôts._
Faisans de Bohême.
Perdreaux rouges.
Eperlans frits.
Bécasses du Morvan.
_Seize entremets._
Asperges en branches.
Choux-fleurs au parmesan.
Champignons à la provençale.
Truffes au vin de Champagne.
Laitues à l’essence.
Epinards au consommé.
Salade à la piémontaise.
Concombres au consommé.
Gelée d’oranges.
Crème à l’anglaise.
Pannequets aux citrons confits.
Œufs pochés au jus.
Gâteaux soufflés.
Macaroni à l’italienne.
Pommes au beurre de Vanvres.
Gaufres à la flamande.
_Deux plombières, extra. Dessert._
8 corbeilles, 4 corbillons, et le reste en proportion de cette donnée.
At the period when luxurious tables became prevalent in France, good
cheer also prevailed in London. In the time of Queen Mary, according
to Maitland, luxury prevailed to such an excessive degree in the
sumptuousness and extravagance of the city magistrates, that many of
the principal citizens chose rather to retire into the country than
to serve expensive offices. It was enacted by the Common Council, to
prevent such extravagances, that the mayor should have no more than one
course either at dinner or supper; and that on a festival day, a flesh
day, a repast was to consist of no more than seven dishes, whether hot
or cold; and on every festival day being a fish day, of eight dishes;
and on every common flesh day, six dishes; and on every common fish
day, seven dishes, exclusive of brawn, collops with eggs, salads,
potage, butter, eggs, herrings, sprats, and shrimps, together with all
sorts of shell-fish and fruits.
Regulations were also issued for the aldermen, sheriffs, and City
companies at their several entertainments.[37] They were to have
neither swan, crane, nor bustard under the penalty of forty shillings.
During the reign of Elizabeth, the city venison feasts became offensive
to the queen and her nobility. In consequence, a letter, signed by the
Lord Mayor and two aldermen, was addressed to Lord Burleigh, in which
these officials say, “For avoyding the excessive spending of venison
and other vitail in the halles of this citie, which we understand to
have been offensive to her ma^{tie} and the nobilitie, we have by act
of common counsel forbidden such festes hereafter to be kept, and have
restrained the same only to necessary metinges in w^h also venison
is permitted as by copie of this act herewith sent into y^r L. may
appere.” These worshipful personages go on to assure Lord Burleigh
that, unless similar proceedings be adopted in St. Martin’s and
Westminster, the restraints imposed on the City of London would be of
little use.
The golden age of cookery in modern times in England, however, was
the reign of Queen Anne. The Queen herself was fond of good eating,
and elaborate feasts became the custom among the nobility, gentry,
and wealthy traders. In this reign it was that Dr. King published his
“Art of Cookery,” in imitation of Horace’s “Art of Poetry,” making an
attempt to introduce French dishes. In an oft-quoted passage of his
poem he says:--
“The French our relish help, and will supply
The want of things too gross by decency.
Our fathers most admired their sauces sweet,
And often asked for sugar with their meat;
They butter’d currants on fat veal bestow’d,
And rumps of beef with virgin honey strew’d.”
Sir John Hill, M.D., followed Dr. King, with “Mrs. Glasse’s Cookery
Book,” in which are some few receipts for French dishes. The great
Lord Chesterfield, however, was the first nobleman who made the most
strenuous efforts to introduce French cookery. He engaged as his cook
La Chapelle, a descendant of the famous cook of Louis XIV. La Chapelle
published a treatise on cookery in three volumes, which is now very
rarely met with. It is entitled “The Modern Cook,” by Vincent La
Chapelle, chief cook to the Earl of Chesterfield, and was printed for
the author in 1733, and sold by Nicholas Prevost, a Frenchman, over
against Southampton Street, in the Strand.
About the period of the publication of this book, Lord Chesterfield was
lord steward of the household to George II., and undoubtedly was the
most renowned and fashionable host in London. His dinners and suppers
were then deemed perfection; and these entertainments were one of the
few items in which his expenditure was liberal. Lord Chesterfield lived
till 1773, and I more than once heard the late Earl of Essex say,
more than thirty years ago, at Brookes’s Club, that he remembered as
a boy of fourteen or fifteen seeing the Earl seated on a rustic seat,
inhaling the air outside the court-yard of his house in May Fair.
Chesterfield House was ninety-one years ago at the very extremity of
London, and all beyond it was an expanse of green fields.
The table of twenty or twenty-five covers was one of the noble earl’s
official dinners, but the supper was for a party of intimate friends:--
A TABLE OF TWENTY OR TWENTY-FIVE COVERS, SERVED WITH
TWENTY-NINE DISHES.
FIRST COURSE.
_The middle of the table._
_A surtout in the middle._
1 Piece of beef garnished with attelets.
1 quarter of veal with gravy.
_Two terrines._
1 of fillets of pikes with crayfish.
1 of a matellottée of one eel and two carps, and two large pikes.
_Two pots of olió._
1 of water.
1 of roots with oil.
_Two terrines._
1 of fillets of soles.
1 of fillets of eels.
At each of the tables 2 dishes of _petits pâtées_.
_Four soops._
1 of bisque of cray-fish.
1 of muscles.
1 of pottage _de Santé_.
1 soop, (_à la St. Cloud_.)
_Eight entries, four with meat, and four in meager._
1 of chickens, Italian sauce.
1 of young turkeys with trufles.
1 of fricandoes of veal glazed.
1 of pheasants, with a carp sauce, a carp.
_The four meager dishes._
1 of a pudding of old ling (_à la Muscovite_).
1 of carps forc’d (_à la Dauphine_), 3 carps.
1 of eels rowl’d, 1 eel.
1 of tenches (_à la Ste. Menehout_).
Eight small dishes of melons, figs, and radishes.
_Four removes for the soops._
1 of pikes (_à la Civita Vecchia_).
1 of perches, the Dutch way.
1 of trouts (_à la Genoise_).
1 of turbot broil’d, with shalot sauce, and oil.
_To remove the eight small dishes of melons, figs, and
radishes._
1 of lottes with champagne.
1 of soles, the Italian way.
1 of sturgeon roasted, sharp sauce.
1 of fillets of pikes, with an Italian sauce.
_Four of meat._
1 of quails with oil.
1 of young partridges, the Spanish way.
1 of pigeons (_à la d’Huxelles_).
1 of fillets of fowls with cray-fish.
SECOND COURSE.
_For the large entremets for the middle of the table._
1 ham pasty.
1 turkey pasty.
1 salmon.
1 turbot.
2 of cray-fish.
_For the two sides of the table._
1 Savoy cake.
1 croquante.
_Eight dishes of roast, viz., four of meat and four meager._
1 of 6 chickens (_à la Reine_).
1 of fowls.
1 of 6 young partridges.
1 of 4 wood pigeons.
4 sallets and 4 sauces.
_The four meager._
1 of soles fry’d in oil.
1 of barbots.
1 of trouts.
1 of fry’d pikes.
THIRD COURSE.
_Eight entremets, to remove the eight dishes of roast._
1 of small loaves of pistaches.
1 of _Puis d’Amour_.
2 Tourtes (_à la Glace_).
2 of Turkey caps.
1 of _Crême soufflée_.
1 of _Crême veloutée_.
_Eight hot entremets to remove the four sallets and four
sauces._
2 of trufles, the Italian way.
2 of lamb-stones.
2 of little artichokes, in surprize.
2 of quisselles.
A BILL OF FARE FOR A SUPPER OF FIFTEEN OR SIXTEEN COVERS,
SERVED UP WITH A GREAT DISH, TWO MIDDLING, FOUR SMALL, AND SIX
HORS D’ŒUVRE.
FIRST COURSE.
_For the middle._
1 quarter of veal in cawl.
_Two pots of olió, one for each end._
1 _à la jambe de bois_.
1 with rice and cray-fish cullis.
_Four entries._
1 of pullets (_à la Montmorency_).
1 of partridges, the Spanish way.
1 of young ducks with orange-juice.
1 of pigeons (_à la d’Huxelles_).
_Six small dishes._
1 of mutton-cutlets, glaz’d with endive.
1 of fricando’s of veal, glaz’d with sellery.
1 of popiettes, the Italian way.
1 of larks, the Muscovite way.
1 of fillets of soles with champain.
1 of eels, glaz’d with an Italian sauce
_To remove the two pots of olió._
1 of a turbot, glaz’d.
1 of a jowl of salmon boiled, with shrimp-sauce.
SECOND COURSE.
_Entremets._
1 of a roasted ham for the middle.
_For both ends of the table._
1 of a Savoy cake.
1 of a cake of mille feuilles.
_Four dishes of roast fowl._
1 of turkeys.
1 of fowls.
1 of partridges.
1 of young pigeons, dress’d like ortolans.
_Four sallets and 2 sauces._
THIRD COURSE.
_Ten hot small entremets to remove the sauces, sallets, and
roast-meat._
1 of cray-fish, the Italian way.
1 of sweetbreads of veal (_à la Dauphine_).
1 of artichokes, the Italian way.
1 of green pease.
1 of lamb-stones.
1 of anchovies in Canappé.
1 of cocks’ combs.
1 of ducks’ tongues.
1 of _Peaux d’Espagne_.
1 of eggs with gravy.
Sixteen or seventeen years after the death of Lord Chesterfield,
a great number of French refugees of the highest family, who had
emigrated in consequence of the Revolution to England, mixed much in
English society, and the consequence was that French cookery became
more prevalent. Several of our nobility vied with each other in
entertaining the French princes, the Count de Lille, and the Count
d’Artois (afterwards Louis XVIII. and Charles X.), and also the Dukes
of Condé and Bourbon. Among the foremost of these were the Marquis of
Buckingham and the Earl of Moira, both of whom expended vast sums in
these hospitalities.
The Count de Lille and others of his family occupied, in 1807,
Gossfield House, near High Garret, in Essex, a seat belonging to the
Marquis of Buckingham; and in 1808 these princes were received with the
most splendid marks of hospitality at the princely mansion of Stowe,
where their residence was commemorated by a Latin inscription. For
several months there was a dinner prepared daily for Louis XVIII., the
Count d’Artois, the Duke d’Angoulême, the Duke of Berry, the Duke of
Orleans, the Count de Beaujolais, the Prince of Condé, and the Duke
of Bourbon. But Stowe was a scene of even greater festivity in 1805,
when the Heir Apparent (afterwards George IV.), the Duke of Clarence
(afterwards William IV.), with Mr. Fox, and all the members of the new
coalition, were present. On this occasion 800 persons were invited.
Grand entertainments were given during several successive days;
illuminations took place in the evening, and the grotto in which their
Royal Highnesses supped was illuminated with from 10,000 to 15,000
lamps.
At the Christmas dinner of the Duke of Buckingham, in 1808, Louis
XVIII. was present, and the following was the bill of fare, as prepared
by Mr. Simpson, the duke’s cook. It is undoubtedly more substantial
than elegant.
BILL OF FARE.
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| FIRST COURSE. | | SECOND COURSE. |
| _Rice Soup_, | | _Four Partridges._ |
| removed with a | +----------------+--+----------------+
| TURKEY AND TRUFFLES. | | Carmel Basket | | Savoy Cake. |
+----------------+--+----------------+ | with Pastry. | | |
| Semels Souffle,| | Beef Collops à | +----------------+ +----------------+
| and poivrade | | la Tortue and | | | | |
| sauce. | | Truffles. | +----------------+ +----------------+
+----------------+ +----------------+ |Cauliflower à la| |Jerusalem Arti- |
| | | | | Flamond. | | chokes à la |
+----------------+ +----------------+ | | | Crême. |
| Three Sweet- | | Poulard à la | +----------------+ +----------------+
| breads larded, | | Daube, larded, | | | | |
| and asparagus | | and mushrooms. | +----------------+ +----------------+
| peas. | | | | A Cheesecake. | | Mince Pies. |
+----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+
| | | | | | | |
+----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+
| Three Chickens | | Leg of Lamb, | | Spinage and | | French Beans. |
| à la Reine. | | and haricot | | Croutons. | | |
| | | beans. | +----------------+ +----------------+
+----------------+ +----------------+ | |
| | | |
+---------+ +---------+ | |
| S c | | S w | +---------+ +---------+
| o w h | | o i o | | S | | |
| u i i | | u t f | | i | | P |
| p t n | | p h | | x | | h |
| , h e | | , v | | | | e |
| , | +--------+ | a e | | S | +--------+ | a |
| r a | | Frame. | | r n | | n | | Frame. | | A s |
| e r | +--------+ | e h i | | i | +--------+ | a |
| m b o | | m a s | | p | | n |
| o a a | | o u o | | e | | t |
| v c s | | v n n | | s | | . |
| e o t | | e c . | | . | | |
| d n e | | d h | +---------+ +---------+
| d | | | | |
+---------+ +---------+ | |
| | | |
+----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+
| A Neat’s | | Three Chickens,| | Asparagus. | | Red Cabbage |
| Tongue. | | and celery. | | | | à l’Alemand. |
+----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+
| | | | | | | |
+----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+
| Two Rabbits | | | | Mince Pies. | | Apricot Tourte.|
| à la Portuguez | | Grenadines, | +----------------+ +----------------+
| larded, and | | and endive. | | | | |
| sorrel sauce. | | | +----------------+ +----------------+
+----------------+ +----------------+ | Ragout Mellé. | | Mushrooms. |
| | | | +----------------+ +----------------+
+----------------+ +----------------+ | | | |
| A Souties of | | Petit Pâtés of | +----------------+ +----------------+
| Mutton, and | | Oysters. | |Chantillie Cake.| | Carmel Basket, |
| cucumber. | | | | | | with meringues.|
+----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+ +----------------+
| _Giblet Soup_, | | |
| removed with a | | _Two Guinea Fowls: one larded._ |
| SIRLOIN OF BEEF. | | |
+----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Of French cookery the Prince Regent was during his life a great
admirer, and no one in his Majesty’s dominions, or out of it, kept a
more _recherché_ or expensive table. But the Coronation Dinner at
Westminster Hall, in 1822, was a monster banquet merely, and it gives
no indication whatever of the king’s more refined taste in cookery. As
a curiosity I print the bill of fare of this great feast.
BILL OF FARE OF THE BANQUET GIVEN BY GEORGE IV. ON THE
19TH OF JULY, 1822, IN WESTMINSTER HALL, ON THE DAY OF HIS
CORONATION.
HOT DISHES.--160 tureens of soup; 80 of turtle; 40 of rice; 40 of
vermicelli; 80 dishes of turbot; 40 of trout; 40 of salmon; 80 dishes
of venison; 40 of roast beef; 3 basins of beef; 40 dishes of mutton
and veal; 160 dishes of vegetables, including potatoes, peas, and
cauliflowers; 480 sauce-boats; 240 lobsters; 120 of butter; 120 of mint.
COLD DISHES.--80 of braised ham; 80 savory pies; 80 of geese _à la
daube_, two in each dish; 80 of savory cakes; 80 of braised beef; 80 of
braised capons, two in each dish; 1190 side dishes of various kinds;
320 of mounted pastry; 400 of jellies and creams; 80 of lobsters; 80 of
crayfish; 161 of roast fowls; 80 of house-lamb.
TOTAL QUANTITIES.--Beef, 7442 lbs.; veal, 7133 lbs.; mutton, 2474
lbs.; house-lamb, 20 quarters; legs of ditto, 20; lamb, 5 saddles;
grass-lamb, 55 quarters; lamb sweetbreads, 160; cow-heels, 389;
calves’-feet, 400; suet, 250 lbs.; geese, 160; pullets and capons, 720;
chickens, 1610; fowls for stock, 520; bacon, 1730 lbs.; lard, 550 lbs.;
butter, 912 lbs.; eggs, 8400.
THE WINES.--Champagne, 100 doz.; burgundy, 20 doz.; claret, more than
200 doz.; hock, 50 doz.; moselle, 50 doz.; Madeira, 50 doz.; sherry and
port, about 350 doz.; iced punch, 100 gallons. The champagne, hock, and
moselle, were iced before being placed upon the table.
The expenses of this banquet and the coronation together amounted to
the sum of 238,238_l._ As a contrast to this, it may be also mentioned
that the banquet and coronation of his Majesty William IV., which took
place September, 1831, did not cost 50,000_l._
It may be mentioned that, at the coronation of George IV., the glut
of fruit was unprecedented; a gentleman of Lambeth cut sixty ripe
pine-apples on the occasion; and that many hundreds of pines remarkable
for size and flavour came from distant parts of the country; one from
Lord Cawdor’s weighed 10 lbs., and formed part of the royal banquet.
The taste of the royal _gourmand_ will be more fully disclosed by
a bill of fare of one of the private dinners given at the Pavilion,
Brighton, in 1817.
Carème was at that period for eight months _chef de cuisine_ to the
Prince Regent of England (afterwards George IV.), and for seven months
of that period the _chef_ says he never quitted his post. During
these seven months, if we are to believe this celebrated _cuisinier_,
his Royal Highness never felt any attack of gout, whereas before the
cookery was so highly spiced (_aromatisée_) that the royal _gourmand_
was tormented with it both day and night. Here is one of those _menus_
of thirty-two _entrées_, given at the Pavilion, Brighton, on the 8th of
Jan., 1817, which gave no gout:--
_Quatre potages._
Le potage de lièvre au chasseur.
Le potage de sauté au consommé de volaille.
Le potage aux laitues.
Le macaroni lié à l’italienne.
_Quatre relevés de poissons._
Les perches au vin de champagne.
L’anguille à la régence.
Le turbot grillé, sauce aux homards.
Le cabillaud à la hollandaise.
_Quatre grosses pieces._
Le dindon braisé aux huîtres.
Le filet de bœuf piqué glacé.
Les poulets à la financière.
Le quartier de sanglier, gelée de grosseilles.
_Quatre contre-flans._
Le pain de gibier sur un socle.
La poularde sur un socle.
Le turban sur un socle.
La galantine sur un socle.
_Quatre plats rôts._
Le chapon au cresson.
Le lièvre à l’anglaise.
Le dindonneau au cresson.
Le pluviers bardés.
_Huit entremets._
Les pommes de terre frites.
Les asperges.
Les huîtres au gratin.
La salade de volaille.
Les salsifis au beurre.
Les epinards à la française.
Les truffes à la serviette.
Les écrivisses au madère.
BILL OF FARE FOR TEN OR TWELVE PERSONS. JANUARY.
FIRST COURSE.
_Two soups._
_Soup à la Julienne._
_Purée_ of pheasant.
_Two fishes._
_Filets de sole à la Dieppoise._
John Dory, sauce _hollandaise_.
_Two roasts._
Roast turkey _à la financière, aux truffes_.
Westphalia, York, or Cumberland ham, with Madeira sauce.
_Four entrées._
Mutton cutlets _à la Soubise_.
_Filet de la pin à la Marechale._
_Ris de veaus piqué, aux épinard._
_Pâtés à la Reine._
SECOND COURSE.
_Two roasts._
A hare roasted.
A wild duck roasted.
_Four entremets._
Apricot _soufflé_.
_Salsifis à la crême._
_Ramequins._
_Œufs à la Neige._
DINNER FOR FOURTEEN PERSONS. APRIL.
FIRST COURSE.
_Two soups._
_Purée à la Reine._
_Purée des carottes au ris._
_Two fishes._
Crimped salmon, parsley and butter sauce.
_Soles au gratin._
_Two removes._
Roast fore-quarter of lamb.
_Poularde à la printanière._
_Four entrées._
Lamb cutlets, _sauce aux concombres_.
_Fricandeau de veau, sauce aux épinards._
SECOND COURSE.
Spring chickens.
Leverets.
_Four entremets._
_Champignons au gratin._
Seakale _à la sauce blanche_.
Vanille cream.
Apricot tartlets.
DINNER FOR SIXTEEN IN MAY OR JUNE.
FIRST COURSE.
_Two soups._
Clear turtle.
_Potage printanière._
_Two fishes._
Turbot, _au naturel_ with lobster or Dutch sauce.
Salmon slices, with parsley and butter or caper sauce.
_Two removes._
Roast filet of beef larded.
_Poivrade_ sauce.
Roast fore-quarter of lamb.
_Entrées._
_Noix de veaux à la St. Cloud._
_Filets de mouton piqué, sauce aux tomates._
_Suprême de volaille aux concombres._
_Un pâté chaud à la financière._
_Filets de laperaux, sauce aux oignons._
_Filets de maquereau, à l’anglaise._
SECOND COURSE.
Guinea fowls.
Pigeons.
_Six entremets._
_Macaroni à l’italienne._
_Choux-fleurs au parmesan._
_Gelée de marasquin._
_De tartelettes à la Chantilly._
_Les asperges à la sauce blanche._
A lobster salad with plovers’ eggs.
DINNER IN A PLAIN ENGLISH FASHION FOR FOURTEEN.
FIRST COURSE.
_Two soups._
Giblet soup.
_Soupe à la Julienne._
_Two Fishes._
Turbot boiled.
Slices of salmon, _Génevoise_ sauce.
_Two roasts._
A small fore-quarter of lamb.
A haunch of mutton.
_Eight entrées._
Lamb cutlets, cucumber sauce.
Lobster patties.
Mutton cutlets _à la Soubise_.
Croquettes of sweetbreads.
Chickens boiled, cream sauce.
Sweetbreads.
Filet of beef, sauce _poivrade_.
A tongue glazed, with Windsor beans.
SECOND COURSE.
2 turkey poults (1 _piqué_).
2 ducklings.
_Eight entremets._
Plovers’ eggs with aspic.
Prawns.
Jelly with strawberries.
Caramel basket with caramelled fresh fruits.
Noyeau jelly.
French beans.
Peas _à l’anglaise_.
Chantilly basket with trifle.
ANTHONY CARÊME.
Of Carème it is necessary I should say a little before he proceeds
to tell his own story. If you believe him (see _passim_ the
six volumes of his culinary works) he was the Homer and Virgil, the
Corneille and Dryden, the Pope and Boileau, the Byron and De Béranger
of cookery. Every other art, noble or ignoble, every other superiority,
literary, legal, histrionic, saltatory, medicinal, modistical, may be
contested with the Gauls; but great and little of all nations, peers
and pork-men, boyars and butchers, _graffs_ and gastronomers,
of whatever land, all by common consent agree in shouting, in loud
cosmopolitan acclaim, the glories and the greatness of Carème. “He was
a man,” says one of his disciples, “whose tension and activity of mind
were never exhausted; the more tedious and difficult were his duties,
the more brilliant he emerged from them.” The greatest men in ancient
and modern times have written their own history. Plato in his choicest
dialogues gives us an insight into his own character; Cicero, in his
work “De Oratore,” paints himself under a feigned name; Caesar writes
us an account of his own exploits in his “Commentaries,” as the Duke
of Wellington does in his “Despatches;” Montecuculli penned his own
Memoirs; and Napoleon laboured at the “Mémoriel de St. Hélène;” why,
therefore, should not a greater man in his own estimation than any
one among them all, reveal his own precious history and the mysteries
of his science, and lay patent to the public the simple grandeur of
his _batteries de cuisine_? Ay, why not? Open the pages of his
instructive Memoirs and Autobiography, and see whether there is any
one of the Useful Knowledge Society heroes who have gone so far in
the pursuit of knowledge under imminent and impending difficulties,
as that really noble fellow Anthony Carème? Did he not abandon the
first families to write his cookery and the practice of some great
contemporaries? for, observe you, Carème is not always peering a
Brobdignagian _I_ under your nose, or flourishing the flaunting
motto of “Ego et Rex Meus” before your perplexed eyes. No, this good
savoury Samaritan cook has some bowels, some thoughts of others, some
kindliness for the absent and the departed. He seems always with
the modesty of real merit to say, though of the strongest in his
generation, “Vixere fortes Agamemnona.” But his virtues were not merely
negative, they were of the most positive kind. He would only accept
places “where his taste for study would not be interfered with;” for
his ambition was “serious and elevated.” Then he felt, poignantly felt,
“the misery of living among men destitute of education.”
Rousseau, in that most eloquent of books, “The Confessions,” tells us
under what circumstances certain of his writings were composed. The
gruff Sam. Johnson, the delightful debt-contracting Oliver Goldsmith,
the ingenious and fantastic William Hazlitt are equally communicative;
but, _maugré_ this copious sincerity, what are these men to
Carème? Is there any one sentence in all they have ever written equal
to the following? “From the time I arranged the sideboard of the Saxon
ambassador, the thought of the ‘Pâtissier Royale,’ and the ‘Cuisinier
Parisien,’ entered my head.” Cause and effect are here beautifully,
lucidly transparent. Dr. Brown and Dugald Stewart, and all the Scotch
mystifiers, might have written on the subject till the crack of doom,
and left the darkness more dim, and the subject more perplexed; it is
only Carème who has made, in throwing off this bright sentence, the
doctrine quite plain.
“It was at the little inn at Llangollen,” says Hazlitt, “after a
supper, that I wrote such a sketch” (which he names). See how great
geniuses fall on the same style and method. “It was in the night,” says
Carème, “after a short sleep, that I lately dictated to my daughter my
most recent chapters.”
“In the busiest period of my service with Alexander,” says this
ingenious maker of sauces, “I never once abandoned my evening notes.”
Admirable, glorious man! who will not think in reading this of the
parallel passage in the life of Fox, who, in the busiest conflicts of
party, left the blaze and bustle of the Commons to read Aristophanes,
as the other great performer left the blaze and bustle of the kitchen
to compose his evening notes. It was owing to these “viginti annorum
lucubrationes”--it was owing to the “severe studies of the empire,”
that he was at length, after wrestling with difficulties unheard of,
enabled “to seize on sugared _entremets_ as his domain in fee.”
He had, too, all the independence of mind of a great genius, “the
surveillance of Russia appeared degrading to him, and he promptly left
the land of the tyrant and the slave. Nor was this all: such was the
profoundness of his _ennui_ in this work-a-day world of ours--in
this heavy, muddy, manufacturing England--that he was forced to leave
the service of George IV. to resume the composition of his works.
These works are collected in six volumes; and, as one great genius
may be permitted to speak of another, “they are,” says William Hall,
cook to Thomas Peere Williams, and “conductor” of the parliamentary
dinners of Viscount Canterbury,--“they are the productions of a man
whose imagination greatly enlarged the variety of _entrées_ and
_entremets_ previously practised, and whose clear and perspicuous
details render them facile, not only to the artist who has already an
advance in his profession, but also to those whose knowledge of the
higher code of the kitchen has been necessarily limited.”
The cooks of Rome and Athens stood in the market-place with aprons on,
waiting to be hired for the occasion, and, after they had done the
day’s service, were ignominiously dismissed out of doors; but the cooks
of our day are the friends and familiars of the great. “I conversed for
more than an hour on gastronomy with Prince Esterhazy,” says Carème,
“and it is astonishing what a knowledge of the art he displayed.”
How different, however, is the fate of different authors! Corneille
died in an unknown corner, in forlornness and distress; Goldsmith was
always in want of a guinea; Samuel Johnson was often sorely pinched;
glorious John Dryden laboured hard for the day’s dinner; Fielding was
often in the hands of bailiffs, and Savage and Otway lived and laboured
in misery and distress: but Carème, unlike these, gained not only
immortality, but money; not only praise, but good solid pudding. “My
works,” says he, “created me, exclusive of places whose emoluments I
sacrificed, a yearly income of more than 20,000 francs.”
The most amusing of these works is undoubtedly an autobiography, which
he did not live to finish. As it has not appeared in an English dress,
I give the gem in a translation made at the time it was published.
“Although born of one of the poorest families of France, of a family
which counted amongst its members five-and-twenty children--although
my father, to save me, literally flung me into the street; Fortune,
nevertheless, rapidly smiled on me, and a good fairy often took me by
the hand, to lead me in the right way. In the eyes of my enemies (and I
have many) I have more than once appeared the spoiled child of Fortune.
I have accepted and refused, at various times, the finest places; I
have abandoned the first families in Europe to write my practice of
cookery and that of some great contemporaries gone to their account,
whose principles and practice were engraved in my memory.
“I have only accepted good places, however, in families where my taste
for study, and the views which I early entertained as to eminence in my
profession, would not be interfered with. In the rapid passage to all
these places heaps of money were offered me half a score of times, but
I have not been over-desirous of mere wealth. My ambition was serious
and elevated, and very early in life I desired to elevate my profession
into the dignity of an art. It is precisely in this road that I have
encountered the greatest obstructions. I have everywhere found idleness
and envy--that miserable disposition of mind made wretched by every
superiority, and above all by that of a comrade. But I have had more
success than I desired, though the exceptionable position in which I
have been placed has never diminished the misery of often living among
men destitute of all education. For some years I have sought the means
to give these men a moral culture (_l’éducation du cœur_); but I
could not very clearly see my way, for this self-education in the midst
of an active life is the most difficult of acquisition. The example of
a family is necessary to educate our soul.
“Here and there I have some remembrance of seriously disagreeable
passages, owing to the low rich (_vilains riches_); but I ought,
on the other hand, to recall to mind the good, the excellent conduct
of gentlemen of truth, noble _seigneurs_ that I have served. I
have never had to complain but of the conduct of a _parvenu_, a
name which the fellow decorated himself with without tact. It was
under the Empire that I was most employed; it was, above all, at this
era that my studies were severe; “c’est surtout à cette époque que
j’ai fait des fortes études.” My researches were made in good time;
they were continuous; they were serious. At M. de Talleyrand’s I
was under Boucher, _chef des services_ of the prince. I there
perfected myself in one of the principal parts of cookery, which I
afterwards developed. Some years previously I had executed many parts
of the _beaux extras_. A little later I had the management of the
charming little dinners given by a distinguished and lofty-minded man,
M. de Lavalette. I also cooked the dinners and arranged the sideboard
of the Saxon Ambassador. It is from that period that the first decided
thought of the “Pâtissier Royal” and of the “Cuisinier Parisien,” first
entered my mind. I now acquired the excellent habit of noting down in
the evening, on returning home, the modifications that I had made in
my labour, each day bringing some change. With pen in hand, I set down
the reasons which had determined my mind. That which then particularly
occupied me was the finer parts of the oven’s produce, and the cold
sugared _entremets_. This labour is the most delicate portion
of the art of the pastry-cook. I invented much in this branch--the
foundation, the execution, the form--all these parts became easy to me,
and I seized on them as of my domain in fee.
“I enjoyed perfect freedom at M. de Lavalette’s to compose my dinners.
It was there I did the most to realize the problem whose solution I
early sought--the union of order, delicacy, and economy. The guests
were assiduous at these dinners; they were generally members of the
senate, learned men, celebrated officers, all _connoisseurs_.
“I laboured as a supernumerary at the Prince de Talleyrand’s in
1814, when the Emperor Alexander arrived there. There I obtained the
friendship and protection of an agreeable and distinguished man, the
comptroller of his Imperial Majesty’s household, M. Muller. Under his
direction I became chief cook of the kitchens of the emperor, and was
charged with all the expenses and the ordering of the bills of fare.
This was the most active moment of my life; yet I did not renounce
my custom, but continued to write what I had changed remodelled. I
thus fixed ideas and combinations in my memory which might have been
effaced from it. When the Emperor Alexander quitted Paris, I refused
simultaneously the offer of the situation of _chef de cuisine_ in
many great houses. Soon after I decided to set out for Aix-la-Chapelle,
still in the service of the Emperor Alexander. The congress of
sovereigns was united, and M. Muller renewed his propositions of Paris,
namely, that I should go and continue my labours at Petersburg. My
mode of cookery pleased the emperor much, he said; that was easy, for
everything was noble and truly imperial in that great establishment of
the czar. My emoluments were 2400 francs per month, and the culinary
expenses. That which I directed at Aix-la-Chapelle was from 80,000 to
100,000 francs a month; but this munificent expenditure was based on
the greatest order and regularity, and the utmost strictness in making
up the accounts.
“The Prince Louis de Rohan, a member of the congress, was one of my
kindliest protectors. He advised me to enter into the regular service
of the emperor. I wished for a delay, for I could not resolve to quit
the researches and labours of digesting my works, which I had commenced
at Paris.
“I then entered the service of Lord Stewart. The English embassy at
Vienna was most brilliant at this time. Affairs called milord to
London. It was there that Prince Orloff offered me anew the vacant
places of _maître d’hôtel_ and _chef des cuisines_ to the
Emperor Alexander. I left London, and came to see at Paris M. Daniel,
who had just left the service of the Emperor of Russia, rich and
honoured. He advised me to start for Petersburg. ‘You will not,’ he
exclaimed, ‘find much serious rivalry there.’ I made up my baggage,
and embarked at Honfleur. Arrived at Cronstadt, my old friend Riquette
presented me immediately to the Prince Wolkonski. I was selected for
the place of _maître d’hôtel_, but remarking that it was degraded
by a humiliating surveillance, I determined to give it up. A few days
afterwards I decided on leaving Petersburg, after having visited
Moscow. I determined to return either to France or England, where I
would find a good place in accordance with my habits and talents.
“I set sail, then, from Cronstadt; but the voyage was one continual
tempest. We had been thirty-nine days at sea when we took shelter
between Calais and Boulogne. On the morning of the thirty-ninth day,
relief was afforded by large fishing smacks from Calais. After some
days of repose, I returned to that Paris which I had never ceased
to regret, and on my arrival, entered the service of the Princess
Bragation, a lady of high rank, good, clever, and mistress of a table
which, in delicacy, dignity, and culinary novelties, yielded the palm
to no lordly table, whether French or English. The taste of this lady
was exquisite. She had a grace, a charm of conversation which were
cited as models. I always served my dinner _en maître d’hôtel_,
and was uniformly complimented. The princess said to me one day,
‘Carème, did they not tell you that you were entering the service of a
capricious lady?’ I signified assent. ‘You see the contrary, however,
for I am delighted with your bills of fare, and accept them as you
offer them.’ I thanked the princess, and added that the characteristic
quality of my cookery was, above all, that delicacy and that variety
which she was good enough to praise. One day somebody said that he had
been invited to a dinner dressed by Carème. Her highness immediately
answered, ‘There must be a mistake, for I am sure that Carème dresses
no dinner out of my house.’ Madame understood my character. The guest
replied, ‘Well, this cook of which I spoke is a pearl, at all events.’
‘Say rather,’ rejoined the princess, ‘a false pearl, while mine is a
real one.’ And there I was, as large as life!
“The princess was often ill. One day at dinner, and before me, the
Prince de Talleyrand felicitated her on improved health. ‘Yes, I
am better, and I owe that to Carème.’ The prince, with his usual
intellectual grace and kindliness, approved of the princess’s remark.
At that moment I was very happy.
“During my journey into Russia, Lord Stewart wrote to me at Petersburg,
to engage me to go with him to Vienna, ‘as he could find no cook who
reminded him of me.’ These were his very words. The Princess Bragation
being some time afterwards almost perpetually confined to her bed, my
place became nearly a sinecure, and I obtained from my kind patroness
the permission to return to Vienna. When I arrived in the latter
capital the ambassador was no longer there, but I rejoined him at
Laybach.
“On my return to Vienna, I undertook the editing of the bill of fare
(_la rédaction du menu_), which was not changed. I each day
received in our magnificent kitchen the visit of milord; he daily
bestowed on me presents and encouragements. It was his excellency who
received the letter of the Prince Wolkonski, in which it was said that
the emperor would accept the dedication of my projects of culinary
architecture. A magnificent ring, studded with valuable diamonds,
accompanied this letter. I received it with tears in my eyes. How happy
had my life become!
“My ring was the subject of universal curiosity among my brethren.
It was envied me by those who passed their lives in dissipation. See
how delicate the emperor was. He would not reward me in an art in
which I had pleased him, but he rewarded me in another art, to which
I had consecrated all the leisure moments of my life. How often in
that moment did I mentally thank M. Percier, that finely accomplished
draughtsman, for the priceless instruction which he was good enough to
give me.
“A short while after, we left Vienna, to be present at the coronation
of George IV. Ten years before I had served this monarch, then I
left him to go to Russia. I left him notwithstanding his generosity,
notwithstanding the illustration which his regrets, so benignantly
expressed, had thrown around my name. We did not arrive in time for
the coronation. I regretted this at first; but, when I knew with
what manner of men I should be associated, I looked on my absence
as a real blessing. According to all account, nothing could be more
_triste_, more paltry, more out of joint with the occasion,
than these _fêtes_. My ancient colleague of Carlton House had
completely failed.
“Towards the end of 1823 there was a talk of Prince Esterhazy as
ambassador at Paris. The Duke de Perigord recalled me to the memory of
his excellency Prince Esterhazy, who received me with kindness, and
remembered with a lively pleasure the dinners of the Prince Regent. He
engaged me in the event of his being nominated to the Parisian embassy,
and retained me long enough that day to talk of the gastronomy, of
which he spoke in a truly pertinent manner, and with much talent. The
prince set out for London. I remained at Paris sixteen months in the
expectation of the new place, and meanwhile refused fine offers; one of
the Russian ambassador’s at Naples, the other of Lord Granville, who
was leaving the Hague. I made it a point to be scrupulously faithful to
the engagement which I had entered into with the prince.
“I forgot to say that, at the end of six months, Rothschild’s place was
offered me. At first I refused, but, Prince Esterhazy not coming to
Paris, one of my kind protectors, the Prince Louis de Rohan, presented
me to Madame Rothschild. I accepted the place. The Duke de Perigord
wished at this time that I should present my “Culinary Architecture,”
magnificently bound by Thouvenin, to the Tuileries. The result was as
I had foreseen--I only received cold compliments. The reward of the
public was somewhat different. My “Projets d’Architecture,” though
containing only rough sketches, were examined and approved. At the
moment I write, 1833, here are nearly five years that I am with the
Rothschilds. I have since refused the service of the Spanish embassy
and of Prince Esterhazy, who came to Paris with the kindly thought of
taking me back to England. M. Esterhazy was the intimate friend of
George IV.; he dined weekly with his majesty. It was difficult for
these two eminent _gourmets_, for these two personages, full of
taste, to pass some hours together without talking of cookery. One
day his Majesty asked the Prince where I was. ‘At Rothschild’s,’ said
Esterhazy, ‘and in that house is the very best table in Paris.’ ‘I
believe it,’ said George IV., ‘since Carème has the management of it.’
These words were repeated to me by a person of eminent rank who was
present. George IV. was so perfect a _connoisseur_ in all that
related to the table, that I had a right to feel flattered by his
approval. These words of kindliness were in conformity with everything
which the Regent had the goodness to say to me ten years before--to
every communication he caused to be made to me in the interval.
Magnificent conditions were now proposed to me on the part of George
IV.; my salary was to be doubled, and that salary was to be converted
into a pension for life at the end of a few years. But, in the interval
between the fashionable seasons, London and the country-houses of the
three kingdoms were insupportable to me. Notwithstanding the kindness
and friendship of this royal prince, I experienced while in his
service so profound a melancholy and _ennui_, that I was forced
to return to Paris to resume the composition of my works. It is not,
therefore, to be wondered that I refused with regret, though with
gratitude, offers of recall to the service of George IV. In the first
place, my situation at Rothschild’s suited me perfectly; and, in the
second place, I was somewhat wearied with service. I felt the first
attack of the malady which gnaws at my vitals. I now only think of
profiting of the days which Heaven may yet spare to me to finish the
books whose germs are in my mind. These books have been the meditation
of my entire life. What torments, what preoccupations, what cares, do
they not represent, and how I have tormented body and mind by my long
vigils. At break of day I was at the fish-market, seeking the elements
of my labours. Some hours after, I was in the thick of business, with
cap and apron on; and I was again at work, busy as a bee, some hours
before dinner. It was in the night, after a short sleep, that I lately
dictated to my daughter my most recent chapters. The certainty now
remains to me of leaving something useful behind me. But I shall not
leave all that I had conceived touching our art, in the interest of
kindly civil men and good practicians.
“I now edited my ‘Maître-d’Hôtel;’ I published a new edition of the
‘Pâtissier Royale,’ and the third of the ‘Pâtissier Pittoresque;’ the
copyright I kept in my own hands.
“My works, forming already six volumes, had created for me at last
(exclusive of places whose emoluments I always sacrificed to my
studies!) the annual income necessary to a tranquil and comfortable
existence. I made that year an income of more than 20,000 francs
(800_l._). M. de Rothschild, valuing my services, raised, of his
own accord, my wages. He had just about this time purchased of the Duke
of Otranto the handsome estate of Ferrières. The baron was good enough
to say that the resources of Ferrières would render my service more
easy; he added, with kindness, ‘This beautiful château will, a dozen
years hence, offer you a retreat.’ I eagerly thanked him, but said that
I did not think my health would permit me to accept his offers, that I
was worn out. ‘My wish,’ said I, ‘M. le Baron, is not to finish my days
in a château, but in an humble lodging in Paris.’ I further mentioned
that my books brought me in an income which exceeded my wants. I shall
increase this income, for I have not finished my labours; I have yet to
publish a book on the actual state of my profession.’ ‘But what is the
amount of that income?’ kindly asked M. de Rothschild and his family.
A lively surprise was the result of my answer. What I said appeared
a dream. I added that this income was not of the past year only, but
dated back for several years.
“It was some months after this that I was attacked with the malady
which torments me, and which will close, perhaps, the future on me. I
am still under the hands of the doctors, but do not mend. One of my old
friends, M. Magonty, replaces me in my post.
“I will not close this chapter without saying that I obtained, while
in the house of Madame Rothschild, the inestimable good-will of a
man of genius, of the Maestro Rossini; he is a _connoisseur_,
as is well known; he always said that he only dined well, according
to his taste, at the house of Madame Rothschild. He asked me one day
if my labours were not the result of very attentive meditation? I
answered affirmatively, ‘All that I do is written; I slightly alter
in execution.’ I remember that one day there was some talk of Rossini
going to the United States; he was good enough to say, ‘I’ll start at
once if Carème will but accompany me.’”
I shall conclude with a few detached passages, aphorisms, and thoughts,
from the same great authority.
_Fête given at the Elysée Impérial for the Marriage of Prince
Jerome and the Princess of Wurtemburg._
“At this, a grand ball, Robert was comptroller, and the famous
Laguipierre _chef des cuisines_. Riquette[38] and I were charged
with such portion of the supper as was served cold. We thus,
as nearly as I can remember, filled the tables: twenty-four
large joints, fourteen stands bearing hams, six _galantines_,
and two wild boars’ heads, six loins of veal _à la gelée_,
seventy-six _entrées_, six of which were sides and fillets of
beef _à la gelée_, six _noix de veau_, six of dressed calves’
brains bordered with shapes of jelly, six of _pain de foie
gras_, six of _poulets à la reine en galantine_, six _d’aspics_
garnished with cocks’ combs and kidneys, six of _salmis_ of red
partridge lukewarm, six of _fricasées_ of _poulet à la reine_,
six of _mayonnaises de volaille_, six of slices of salmon _au
beurre de Montpelier_, six of salads of fillets of soles, six
of galantines of eels _au beurre de Montpelier_. Our borders
were thus composed: for the slices of salmon, _beurre rose_; for
the eels, _beurre à la ravigotte vert-tendre_; for the salads
of _filets de sole_, borders of eggs; for the _mayonnaises
de volaille_, the same; for the game and fowls, borders of
truffles, mushrooms, and morels.”
_New Invention of Carème._
“Towards 1804 I imagined our new _suédoises_. The shapes which
they had before my time were without grace or elegance. My
attempt had a decided success at a grand _extra_ of a ball,
which the marshals of France gave to the Chief-Consul, their
master. The ball was magnificent; it was given in the Salle de
l’Opéra decorated with hangings. M. Bécar, cook of the sugared
_entremets_, called me in to assist him, he confided to me the
_suédoises_. I made him thirty-six of them, and for several days
afterwards these _suédoises_ were the only topic of conversation
from the kitchens to the _salons_ of Paris. Happy times!
agreeable labours!”
_The following are the most striking among the Aphorisms,
Thoughts, and Maxims, of the Cook Carème._
“France is the mother-country of amphitryons. Its kitchen and
its wines assure the triumph of gastronomy. It is the only
country in the world for good cheer. Strangers are convinced of
these truths.
“The culinary art serves as a sort of escort to European
diplomacy.
“The great diplomatist should have a renowned cook.
“The diplomatist is a fine appreciator of a good dinner.
“For the young nobility, embassies are courses of diplomacy and
gastronomy.
“Gastronomy marches like a queen at the head of civilization,
but vegetates merely in a period of revolution.
“Great doctors and great musicians are great lovers of good
living; witness the celebrated Broussais, Roques, Rossini, and
Boïeldieu.
“The rich man, fond of the pleasures of the table, passes
through life with comfort and happiness, when he cares not a
straw for public affairs.
“Cookery is a difficult art; a generous host knows how to
appreciate its grandeur and dignity.
“In the houses of the old nobility, the _chef de cuisine_
became _maître d’hôtel_, the assistant-cook took the
place of the cook, and the scullions became assistant-cooks.
By these mutations, these ministers to the mouth (_hommes de
bouche_) attached themselves more and more to these noble
houses, and thus the masters at once preserved their health and
secured the comfort of their servants.
“In the epoch in which we live the first culinary talents
vegetate at Paris, and London is enriched with our renowned
cooks.
“A cook is a _gastronome_ both by taste and by profession.
“A cook who is clean in his person is clean also in his work.
“In ancient and modern times, the talents of cooks were honoured
by kings, witness Marc Antoninus and the great Frederick.
“The French cook is esteemed by the great in distant lands; he
is sought for and appreciated.
“The French cook is incited to his work by a point of honour
inseparable from the culinary art; witness the death of the
great Vatel.
“The French cook is happy in all the capitals of Europe, but he
who does not wish to quit his country should have courage.
“At the Russian court the cook on duty (for there are four who
take the work by turns every fortnight) always served his dinner
_en maître d’hôtel_. This thoroughly gastronomical fashion
should be generally adopted by amphitryons who love to make good
cheer.
“The hypocritical valet is fatal to the tranquillity of a great
establishment; he is vain, proud, paltry, crawling, lazy, and
gluttonous; he is a tale-bearer for the purpose of gaining his
master’s confidence, which he afterwards abuses; he is the
Tartuffe of domestic life.
“The upstart valet is self-sufficient and scented.
“The doctor speaks ill of the cook, in order that he may not
lose his influence over the mind of the rich man; but the talent
of a good cook tends more to the preservation of his master’s
health than the factitious science of certain doctors, whose
medical advice is regulated by their own interests.
“The rich man who leads an irregular life ought rather to
trust to the science of a cook to re-establish his health, if
he feels the necessity of it, than to the discourses of the
interested doctor.”
* * * * *
Such was Anthony Carème. He had gained the suffrages of emperors and
kings, of princes royal and princes not royal, of noble ladies and
rich banker Jews, when the climax of his felicity was capped by the
friendship and good-will of Rossini, and a flattering notice of his
work, in his usual sparkling style, from the facile pen of Jules Janin.
This was too much for mortal man, and encumbered by the very splendour
and vanity of his successes, and not a little worn out also, by thirty
years of service, he sank into premature decay, and was taken from
that world of _bon-vivants_ and sensualists of whom he had formed
the delight, somewhere about the year of grace 1835 or 1836. “He was,”
says a celebrated gourmand, “lively, ardent, enthusiastic, of a rare
patience, of an imperturbable _sangfroid_,” The last work of
Carème, “’Art de Cuisine Française au XIXème Siècle,” was left in an
unfinished state, but M. Plumeret, first cook of the Russian embassy,
has finished it by the publication of the sixteenth and seventeenth
parts. In the “aître d’Hôtel Français,” the “uisinier Parisien,”and “a
Cuisine de Paris au XIXème Siècle,” will Carème live.
“Carème bestowed fine names on his soups:--_Potages Condé_,
_Boïeldieu_, _Broussais_, _Roques_, _Ségalas_ (the three last learned
and agreeable doctors); _Lamartine_, _Dumesnil_ (the historian);
_Buffon_, _Girodet_; and to be just to all the world, that great
practitioner in the culinary art which the world has lost, had not
forgotten, before his death, to give also to one of his best soups
the name of _Victor Hugo_. He called a _matelote_ of fish after M.
Delavigne, and a dish of perch after his physician, M. Gaubert.”
Here are M. Carème’s ideas on _maigre_ sauces:--“It is in a lenten
kitchen that the cleverness of a cook can shed a brilliant light.
It was in the Elysée Imperial, and by the example of the famous
Laguipierre and Robert, that I was initiated into this fine branch
of the art, and it is inexpressible. The years ’93 and ’94, in their
terrible and devastating course, respected these strong heads (_ces
fortes têtes_). When our valiant First Consul appeared at the head of
affairs our miseries and those of gastronomy finished.
“When the empire came, one heard of soups and _entrées maigre_.
The splendid _maigre_ first appeared at the table of the Princess
Caroline Murat. This was the sanctuary of good cheer, and Murat was one
of the first to do penitence. But what a penitence!”
One does not know whether to be indignant or to laugh at this. The old
proverb, “Set a beggar on horseback and he will ride to the devil,”
is undoubtedly true. A few years before the consulate the ambitious
Caroline Buonaparte, afterwards wife of Murat, was, with her mother and
the other female members of her family, in so destitute a situation
at Marseilles, that they had not the means of buying wood to warm
themselves; and as to Murat, her husband, it is well known that he rose
from the very dregs of society, his father being a village innkeeper at
Bastide Frontonière, in the department of Lot.
[Illustration]
CHISWICK PRESS:--PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS,
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] An edition of Apicius, with notes and comments, has been given by
Dr. Lister, physician to Queen Anne.
[2] “Cours Gastronomique,” 124.
[3] “Namque cocus domini debet habere gulam.”--MARTIAL.
[4] “Donat. in Terent. Andr.,” act. i. sc. 1.
[5] “Bourgeois Gentilhomme,” act iv. sc. 1.
[6] Amsterdam, 1726.
[7] “Almanach des Gourmands,” 6me année.
[8] Previous to 1789, says the “Almanach des Gourmands,” tom. i, p.
162, there were not one hundred _restaurateurs_ in Paris. Now (in
1803) there are five times as many. Speaking at random and without
book, there are at present 4000 or 5000, great and small. The author
of the “Almanach des Gourmands” falls into the strange mistake of
attributing the increase of _restaurateurs_ to an Anglomania. “It
is well known,” says he, “that the English almost always dine at a
tavern.” What inconceivable ignorance!
[9] “Memoires Anecdotiques sur l’intérieur du Palais, et sur quelques
Evenemens de l’Empire, depuis 1805 jusqu’au 1 Mai 1814, pour servir
à l’Histoire de Napoleon,” par L. F. J. De Bausset, ancien Préfet du
Palais Impérial.
[10] This was first printed at Milan, in 1498.
[11] At the beginning of this century, Weeks’ Bush Inn, at Bristol, was
famous for its Christmas fare. The bill of fare for Christmas 1800 was
as follows:--A turtle of 120 lbs., 72 pots of turtle, a bustard, red
game, black game, fish of almost innumerable kinds, venison, 42 hares,
87 wild ducks, 17 pheasants, 41 partridges, 17 wild geese, 149 snipes,
81 woodcocks, 17 wild turkeys, 44 tame turkeys, 10 capons, 52 barrels
of Purfleet oysters.
[12] Juvenal relates the story somewhat differently:--
“Sed deerat pisci patinæ mensura: vocantur
Ergo in concilium proceres,” &c.--SAT. II.
[13] Galen, Lib. III.--De Aliment. See also Lib. VIII.--Methodi Medendi.
[14] See also, Nonius de Re Cibar.--Lib. VIII.
[15] Dictionnaire des termes du vieux François, ou tresor de recherches
et antiquités Gauloises et Françoises, par M. Borel, Conseiller et
Médecin ordinaire du Roi. Paris: chez Briasson, Rue St. Jacques. MDCCL.
[16] Lib. XII. cap. 5.
[17] “Ludovici Nonni Dieteticon,” Antverpiæ, MDCXVI. Lib.
II. p. 242.
[18] See 4 Inst., cap. lxvi. The office of swanherd is in Rot.
Patentium, anno 11 and 4, called “Magister deductus Cygnorum.” See “Le
case de Swannes,” lib. 7.
[19] “Observations on the Ancient Statutes.” Dublin: Grierson, 1767.
[20] Nonni “De Re Cib.” Lib. II.
[21] Nonni, “De Re Cibariâ,” lib. ii., p. 215.
[22] “Velocius quam asparagi coquuntur.” SUET.
[23] Cotignac was a confection of quinces.
[24] “Traité des Alimens,” par Lémery.
[25] See “Traité des Alimens de Lémery.” Par le Docteur Bruhier.
[26] “Traité des Alimens,” p. 360.
[27] Eutropius.
[28] Hist. des Empereurs, tom. ii.
[29] Julian in Misopogon, p. 359.
[30] I believe a third edition has been published in 1860.
[31] It would, however, appear that the Romans employed corks:--
“Corticem astrictum pice dimovebit
Amphoræ,”
says Horace.
[32] Henderson says that in some places where wood abounded, as in the
neighbourhood of the Alps and in Illyria, wine casks were made of that
material; but the vessels in general use among the Greeks and Romans
were of earthenware. No authority is, however, cited by the Doctor for
this statement.
[33] Lib. xxvii., c. 6.
[34] These customs are now (1864) exploded in London society, and only
exist on circuit, at regimental messes, or at public dinners.
[35] “Un _poinçon_ de vin, d’huile, &c. _Dolium vel doliolum._ Le
_poinçon_ est la moitié d’un tonneau d’Orléans, ou d’Anjou. C’est un
nom qu’on donne en Blasois et en Touraine au muid de vin. A Rouen le
_poinçon_ contient treize boisseaux. C’est à Paris la même chose qu’une
_demi-queue_. On dit, Voici vendanges, il faut acheter des _poinçons_,
faire relier nos _poinçons_, en parlant de toutes sortes de futailles
et de vaisseaux.”--_Dictionnaire de Trevoux._
[36] This grape is named the Ciras. In the “Œnologie Française” for
1826, it is spelt Scyras, and it is stated, according to the tradition
of the neighbourhood, the plant was originally brought from Shiraz, in
Persia, by one of the hermits of the mountain.
[37] History of London, vol. I., p. 250.
[38] Riquette was then a young Parisian cook, who has since made a
considerable fortune in the service of the Emperor Alexander. He spoke
and wrote so remarkably, that his competitors called him the _beau
parleur_.
Transcriber’s Notes:
1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been
corrected silently.
2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the
original.
3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.
4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.