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[Illustration: THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE]
BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
"The Garden's Story, or Pleasures and Trials of an Amateur
Gardener." Illustrated by Louis Rhead.
"The Story of My House." With a frontispiece by Sidney L.
Smith.
"In Gold and Silver." Illustrated by A. B. Wenzell and W.
Hamilton Gibson.
"The Rose." By H. B. Ellwanger. Revised edition, with an
Introduction by George H. Ellwanger.
"Idyllists of the Country Side." With a title-page by George
Wharton Edwards.
"Love's Demesne: A Garland of Contemporary Love Poems Gathered
from Many Sources."
"Meditations on Gout, with a Consideration of its Cure through
the Use of Wine." With a frontispiece and title-page by George
Wharton Edwards.
[Illustration: "A SA TOUTE-PUISSANCE!"
From the painting by Gabriel Metzu, 1664]
[Illustration:
THE
PLEASURES
OF THE TABLE
AN ACCOUNT OF GASTRONOMY
FROM ANCIENT DAYS TO
PRESENT TIMES.
WITH A HISTORY OF ITS LITERATURE,
SCHOOLS, AND MOST DISTINGUISHED ARTISTS;
TOGETHER WITH SOME SPECIAL RECIPES,
AND VIEWS CONCERNING
THE AESTHETICS OF DINNERS
AND DINNER-GIVING.
BY
GEORGE H. ELLWANGER, M.A.
NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY PAGE AND CO.
1902
]
Copyright, 1902, by
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO.
[Illustration:
FANTAISIE CULINAIRE: LE POISSON PRÉVOYANT
By A. Thierry]
[Illustration:
TO HER,
TRUE COMRADE, WHOSE
VERSANT TOUCH AND ARTFUL
HAND HAVE KEENED MY
ZEST FOR GASTRONOMIC LORE,
THIS VOLUME IS DEVOTEDLY
INSCRIBED.
]
"Gasteria is the Tenth Muse; she presides over the enjoyments
of Taste."
BRILLAT-SAVARIN.
"The History of Gastronomy is that of manners, if not of
morals; and the learned are aware that its literature is both
instructive and amusing; for it is replete with curious traits
of character and comparative views of society at different
periods, as well as with striking anecdotes of remarkable men
and women whose destinies have been strangely influenced by
their epicurean tastes and habits."
ABRAHAM HAYWARD.
_INTRODUCTORY_
_It is far from the purpose or desire of the author to add another to
the innumerable volumes having practical cookery as their theme--the
published works of the past decade alone being too numerous to digest._
_The following chapters, therefore, though touching upon the practical
part of the art, will be found more closely concerned with the history,
literature, and æsthetics of the table than with its purely utilitarian
side. Indeed, a complete manual of practical cookery is one of the
impossibilities, for no person would have the patience to compile
it; and even were such a work achievable, few readers could find
sufficient time for its perusal. A glance at the portly "Bibliographie
Gastronomique" of Georges Vicaire, in which English contributions
to the subject are so meagrely represented, will suffice to show
the difficulties such a task would impose. To classify properly the
multitudinous dishes which, virtually identical, figure under so many
different names, would of itself require years of severe application
and laborious research. It may be observed, notwithstanding, that the
world stands much less in need of additional inventions as regards the
utilisation and preparation of foods than of an expert anthologist
to garner the most worthy among recipes already existing in such
bewildering profusion._
_In the succeeding pages the writer has drawn from many sources, both
ancient and modern--wherever an anecdote which is not too familiar has
been found amusing, or an observation has been deemed pertinent or
instructive. An occasional recipe has been given, and the sweet tooth
of femininity has not been neglected. The hygiene of the table has
likewise been considered, and some pernicious customs in connection
with dining have been plainly dealt with. There are also some allusions
to wines with respect to their complementary dishes, although wine is
so important a subject as to call for a volume by itself._
_It has not been deemed advisable to pass the cookery of the entire
globe under review, even in a cursory manner. To devote separate
chapters to Scandinavian, South American, and Oriental dishes, or
even to purely Spanish, Mexican, and Russian food preparations, were
both needless and cumbersome. The best have been embodied in the
cosmopolitan kitchen; and the rest, for the most part, require the
atmosphere of their native surroundings to be appraised at their proper
value. It is with the French that the annalist of the table has chiefly
to deal._
_Necessarily, in treating of what Thomas Walker has termed "one of the
most important of our temporal concerns," many gastronomic expressions
and names of dishes, and not a few observations relating to the table,
which would lose their piquancy or precise colouring on translation,
have been retained in the language in which they originally appear.
"Les quenelles de levraut saucées d'une espagnolle au fumet," "les
amourettes de bœuf marinées frites," "l'épaule de veau en musette
champêtre," "un coq vièrge en petit deuil," for example, while
natural and comprehensible in French, would sound somewhat bizarre
as "Forcemeat balls of leverets sauced with a racy Spanish woman,"
"the love-affairs of soused beef fried," "a shoulder of veal in rural
bagpipes," and "a virgin rooster in half-mourning." And surely, in
reviewing the aide-de-camp of the cook, it becomes obligatory to employ
a French term upon occasion, and equally seemly to address him now and
then in the classic tongue of the kitchen._
_The principal meal has chiefly been considered, as through this to
the greatest extent depend the health and frame of mind that determine
the actions of man from day to day. It will, accordingly, be an entrée
compounded of numerous flavourings, or a braise with its "bouquet
garni" that has simmered gently over the smothered charcoal, rather
than a familiar pièce de résistance which the reader is invited to
partake of and discuss at his leisure._
[Illustration: TABLE OF CONTENTS]
CHAPTER PAGE
INTRODUCTORY ix
I COOKERY AMONG THE ANCIENTS 3
II WITH LUCULLUS AND APICIUS 24
III THE RENAISSANCE OF COOKERY 49
IV OLD ENGLISH DISHES 80
V L'ALMANACH DES GOURMANDS 112
VI A GERMAN SPEISEKARTE 145
VII THE SCHOOL OF SAVARIN 175
VIII FROM CARÊME TO DUMAS 199
IX THE COOK'S CONFRÈRE 229
X AMERICAN _vs._ ENGLISH COOKERY 248
XI AT TABLE WITH THE CLERGY 280
XII SUNDRY GUIDES TO GOOD CHEER 315
XIII OF SAUCES 344
XIV THE SPOILS OF THE COVER 354
XV TWO ESCULENTS PAR EXCELLENCE 383
XVI SALLETS AND SALADS 409
XVII SWEETS TO THE SWEET 428
BIBLIOGRAPHY 447
INDEX 469
[Illustration: ILLUSTRATIONS]
"A Sa Toute-Puissance!" _Frontispiece_
From the painting by Gabriel Metzu, 1664
PAGE
Fantaisie culinaire: le poisson prévoyant iv
By A. Thierry
Le Cuisinier xi
After the engraving by Mariette
FACING PAGE
A Bacchante 3
From the stipple engraving in colours by Bartolozzi,
after Cipriani
Portrait du Gourmand 24
After Carle Vernet
Le Livre de Taillevent 49
Facsimile of title-page of the edition of 1545
The Cries of Paris: "Old clothes, old laces!" 69
Facsimile of an old French plate
First of September 80
From the engraving after A. Cooper, R.A.
The English Housewife 94
Facsimile of title-page of the edition of 1675
"Un Viel Amateur" 112
A. B. L. Grimod de la Reynière, né à Paris le 20 9bre, 1756.
From an old print
Le Premier Devoir d'un Amphitryon 121
Frontispiece of the fifth year of the "Almanach des Gourmands"
Les Méditations d'un Gourmand 132
Frontispiece of the fourth year of the "Almanach des Gourmands"
The Chef 145
From a print after an old Dutch master
The Bird of St. Michael 160
From the etching by Birket-Foster, R.A.
Promenade Nutritive 175
Frontispiece of "Le Gastronome Français" (1828)
"Pour voir de bons refrains éclore, Buvons encore!" 186
Frontispiece of "Le Caveau Moderne" (1807)
Alexandre Dumas 199
From the etching by Rajon
"L'Art du Cuisinier" (Beauvilliers') 213
Facsimile of title-page, 1824, Vol. II
Day's Closing Hour 229
From the etching by Charles Jacque
"First Catch Your Hare!" 248
From the engraving by J. W. Snow
"Rôti-Cochon" 261
Facsimile page from volume, 1696
Non in Solo Pane Vivit Homo 280
From the original oil-painting by Klein
La Contenance de la Table 296
Facsimile of title-page (early part of sixteenth century)
"Enfant, tu ne dois charger
Tant de la première viande
Se plusieurs en as en commande
Que d'austres ne puisses menger."
Promenade du Gourmand 315
Frontispiece of "Le Manuel du Gastronome ou Nouvel Almanach
des Gourmands" (1830)
La Table 331
Frontispiece of the Second Canto of "La Conversation" of the
Abbé Délille, 1822
A Supper in the Eighteenth Century 344
From the engraving after Masquelier
The Spanish Pointer 354
From the engraving by Woollett, after the painting by
Stubbs, 1768
Partridge Shooting. I. La Chasse aux Perdrix 364
From the coloured print after Howitt, 1807
Partridge Shooting--September 375
From the coloured engraving by Reeve, after the painting
by R. B. Davis, 1836
Truffle-hunting in the Dauphiné 383
From the Salon picture after Paul Vayson
"Nouvel Manuel Complet du Cuisinier et de la
Cuisinière" 397
Facsimile of frontispiece, 1822
The Wounded Snipe 409
From the engraving after A. Cooper, R.A.
"Après Bon Vin" 428
From the engraving by Eisen in the Fermiers-Généreaux edition
of the "Contes et Nouvelles" (1762)
Le Pâtissier Français 442
Facsimile of title-page of the edition of 1655
[Illustration: LE CUISINIER
After the engraving by Mariette]
THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE
[Illustration]
COOKERY AMONG THE ANCIENTS
"L'art qui contient toutes les élégances, toutes les
courtoisies, sans lesquelles toutes les autres sont inutiles
et perdus; l'art hospitalier par excellence qui emploie avec
un égal succès tous les produits les plus excellents de l'air,
des eaux, de la terre."--FAYOT.
Cookery is naturally the most ancient of the arts, as of all arts it
is the most important. Whether one should live to eat, is a question
concerning which the epicure and the ascetic will hold widely varying
opinions; but that one must eat to live, will scarcely admit of
controversy. The man who is wise in his generation will be inclined
to choose a happy medium. Or perchance the French axiom that we only
eat to live when we do not understand how to live to eat, may somewhat
simplify the matter. As it is largely through food and drink that man
derives his highest mental efficiency and physical well-being, as
equally through improper diet accrue countless bodily disorders, it
would appear that the proper choice and preparation of aliments and the
selection of beverages should receive the profound consideration of
every one.
In few of the arts has progress been more apparent during modern
times. The mechanic has improved its accessories until the utmost
perfection would seem to have been attained, medicine and chemistry
have endeavoured to determine what elements of our daily dietary are
injurious to certain individuals or to all, volume after volume has
been written upon the subject, while the grand army of cooks has been
busy in inventing new combinations or in resurrecting forgotten recipes.
And yet the digestive ills of humanity have continued to multiply, even
though there are over six-score ways presented by a single author of
serving the rabbit, and a competent priest of the range can utilise the
egg in hundreds of different forms. Is it that with greater variety in
our aliments, a greater number of ailments is a necessary sequence, and
that as mankind increases in culinary knowledge digestion decreases in
power? It is an olden adage that too many cooks spoil the broth; and
it may be worthy of consideration whether a superfluity of dishes is
not responsible to a considerable degree for the furtherance of various
stomachic maladies. Or, on the other hand, is it that with the trebled
facilities of locomotion supplied by modern science, and the closer
confinement of indoor pursuits, the cause may be largely ascribed to
lack of exercise and insufficient oxygenation?
[Illustration: A BACCHANTE
From the stipple engraving in colours by Bartolozzi, after Cipriani]
However this may be, the art of cookery is far less generally
understood than its great hygienic importance demands, while the art of
dining is understood only by the relatively few. As M. Fayot observed
to Jules Janin, "Without doubt, Monsieur, as you have often said, it
is difficult to write well, but it is a hundred times more difficult
to know how to dine well." Or, as Dumas has expressed it, "To eat
understandingly and to drink understandingly are two arts that may
not be learned from the day to the morrow." He himself was a striking
example of the accomplished _bon vivant_, and his marked intellectual
superiority over his son may be readily attributed to his greater
knowledge of dining.
Where, indeed, more than at the well-appointed dinner-table may one
echo the sentiment of Seneca, "When shall we live if not now?" "An
empty stomach produces an empty brain," observes the author of the
"Comédie Humaine"; "our mind, independent as it may appear to be,
respects the laws of digestion, and we may say with as much justice as
did La Rochefoucauld of the heart, that good thoughts proceed from the
stomach." It is, however, a source whence our joys and sorrows both may
spring. Neglect and indifference may impair its action to destruction;
but, humoured kindly, it ever guides us in paths of peace. In a healthy
and a hungry state, it yearns for special gifts which gustatory edicts
demand, and rarely will confusion attend them when their bestowal is
flavoured with prudence. It is a faithful minister and discriminating
guardian, which rebels only when its functions are imposed upon; but
when they are, its resentment is thorough and relentless. Worthy then,
most certainly, of solicitous regard is the nourishment of an organ
which may shape our ends for weal or woe.
"Cookery," said Yuan Mei, the Savarin of China and author of
a scholarly cook-book during the eighteenth century, "is like
matrimony--two things served together should match. Clear should go
with clear, hard with hard, and soft with soft.... Into no department
of life should indifference be allowed to creep--into none less than
into the domain of cookery."
Concerning the art itself, it may be remarked that the French have
been to cookery what the Dutch and Flemish schools have been to
painting--cookery with the one and painting with the other having
attained their highest excellence. Rubens, Rembrandt, Teniers,
Jordaens, Ruysdael, Snyders, Berghem, and Cuyp may be paralleled
in another branch of art by Carême, Vatel, Beauvilliers, Robert,
Laguipière, Véry, Francatelli, and Ude. But, as in painting during its
earlier stages Flanders and the Netherlands owed much to the Roman
and Venetian schools, so in cookery the French are vastly indebted
to their predecessors and former masters the Italians, who, if less
distinguished colourists, were not to be despised as draughtsmen,
and who if by instinct not as skilled in the chiaroscuro of sauces,
were most dexterous in creating breadstuffs and pastry. Montaigne's
reference to an Italian cook of the period will be remembered in this
connection--one of the artists who had been employed by Cardinal
Caraffa who discoursed upon the subject in such rich, magnificent
words, well-couched phrases, oratoric figures, and pathetical metaphors
as learned men use and employ in speaking of the government of an
empire.
It is a long stone's throw from the first apple eaten in the Garden
of Eden--and this was a wild fruit, and not a Spitzenberg or a
Northern Spy--to a Chartreuse à la bellevue or that triumph of the
ovens of Alsace--the pâté de foie gras. The first dish of which any
record exists is the red pottage of lentils for which Esau sold his
birthright--a form of food still very common in Germany and France. The
first direct mention of breadstuffs in the Bible occurs in Genesis,
where Abraham tenders the angel a morsel of bread, and bids Sarah make
ready quickly three measures of fine meal, knead it, and make cakes
upon the hearth.
The primitive tribes and nations were content of necessity with the
spoils of the chase and the then more limited products of the vegetable
world; and long before John the Baptist's time the Hebrews lived to
no small extent upon locusts and kindred insects. In his enumeration
of the animal food which they might eat without rendering themselves
unclean, Moses specifies four insects of the locust family (Lev. x,
22). Some species of the _Locusta_ are yet esteemed a delicacy in the
East, these being cooked with oil, roasted upon wooden spits, baked in
ovens, or broiled. The Bedouins, who are ever on the march, pack them
with salt in close masses, carrying them in their leathern sacks.
By the Athenians they were usually roasted; and mention is made by
Athenæus of an _archimagirus_, or master cook, who, in his tour around
the ovens and stock-pots, enjoins one of his subalterns to take the
utmost precaution with them and see that they obtain only a light
golden hue.
Eggs, milk, rice, and honey, onions, succory, leeks, and garlic, the
leaves of the vine, radishes, and carrots, with other growths of the
garden, formed the staple articles of diet among ancient peoples.
Vegetable food was more common than animal, the latter being served
principally in the case of entertainments and special occasions of
hospitality (Gen. xviii, 7, 8). Instead of lard and butter, olive oil
was employed, and is still almost entirely employed by the Orientals.
Fish constituted an important article of diet, together with game,
lambs, and kids. Though not common, the flesh of young bullocks and
stall-fed oxen was highly prized (Prov. xv, 17; Matt. xxii, 4), the
shoulder being considered the choicest part. The master of the house
was the matador, and upon the mistress devolved the preparation of the
food. Among primitive cooks, Rebekah proved herself a performer of no
mean ability, as instanced by her dressing the flesh of a young kid
after the manner of venison, in order to obtain a father's blessing
for her favourite son. Roots, berries, fruits, and the quarry of
the bow and harpoon composed the fare of aboriginal man, and proved
all-sufficient. When the struggle for physical existence called
for strong exercise in procuring necessary food, little variety in
nutriment sufficed, at no loss of brawn and sinew.
With many savage races, bread-fruit, nuts, the plantain, the
cocoa-palm--known as the "tree of life"--with numerous other
food-yielding palms, served as a principal means of subsistence. The
first fruit-tree cultivated by man is said by all the most ancient
writers to be the fig, the vine being next in order. The almond and
pomegranate were cultivated at an early date in Canaan, and the fig,
grape, pomegranate, and melon were known to Egypt from time immemorial.
In Solon's law's, the olive, the fig, and the vine are enumerated,
as also the cabbage, crambe, or sea-kale, pulse of various kinds,
and onions. Cabbage and asparagus were known to the Greeks from the
earliest ages, and by them the chestnut, largely utilised for food,
was termed the "Oak of Jupiter." The original home of wheat and barley
is supposed to be Mesopotamia and the fertile plains of the Euphrates,
whence, after a period of cultivation, they spread eastward to China
and westward to Syria and thence to Europe. Among other food-stuffs
of the inhabitants were onions, vetches, kidney-beans, egg-plants,
pumpkins, lentils, cucumbers, chick-peas, and beans--with such fruits
as the apple, fig, apricot, pistachio, almond, walnut, and the product
of the palm and vine.
Coffee, of very remote use in Abyssinia, was unknown to the early
Greeks and Romans; they were, however, familiar with the cucumber,
cultivated in India for at least three thousand years. The cucumber
was also known to Moses and the Israelites, the patriarch referring to
fish and cucumbers, melons and leeks, as among the delicacies that were
freely eaten in Egypt (Numbers xi, 5). Various kinds of _Cichorium_,
or chicory, were familiar to antiquity, while _Lactuca_, or lettuce,
was extensively grown as a salad. The onion was a favourite with the
ancient Egyptians, garlic likewise being made much use of--a plant
denounced by their priests as unclean.[1]
Baking in ovens is of great antiquity, the ovens of old Egypt
being frequently represented in contemporary paintings. The table
appointments of Egypt are similarly portrayed in her paintings--the
guests of both sexes seated in gala attire, with jewelled fingers
holding the lily of the Nile or sacred lotus, while slaves, naked
except for necklace and girdle, served them with viands and wines.
Differing from the Egyptians, the Greeks and Romans excluded women from
their feasts, agreeing with the sentiment of Fulbert Dumonteil that for
a true gourmand there exist no blue eyes, white teeth, or rosy lips
that may take the place of a black truffle. The only exception related
to the cup-bearers--fair youths and tender maids--who were enjoined to
refuse nothing to the guests, and the richly and gorgeously arrayed
_hetæræ_, the voluptuous Aspasias, Barinés, and Phrynes of the period,
who made their appearance at the conclusion of the repast.
With a corps of twelve stewards to provide for his table, eleven of
whom were constantly travelling in search of viands and wines, it is
reasonable to assume that Solomon, of whose menus so little record
exists, scarcely confined himself to coarse dishes prepared from the
flesh of "bullocks, sheep, harts, and roebucks," but that he, with his
thousand wives and concubines, observed a sufficient variety and luxury
in his kitchen to correspond with the magnificent table appointments
and sumptuous surroundings chronicled in the book of Kings. For
ruthless extravagance, Cleopatra's dish of a melted pearl, weighing
seventy-four carats and valued at six million sesterces, probably
exceeds that of any single plate of the Egyptian rulers or prodigal
Roman potentates. Horace, in the third satire of the Second Book, makes
mention of the spendthrift son of Æsopus as also dissolving a pearl in
vinegar--his mistress's earring--
"... to say he'd quaffed
A cool five thousand at a draught."
Boiling was another primitive mode of cooking; and the method even
yet practised by barbarians is to utilise the hide of the slaughtered
animal for a bag, placing the meat in this receptacle with water, and
dropping in stones heated to a white heat until the flesh is cooked.
Laving the meat on hot stones and covering it with ashes, or hanging
it upon a tripod of sticks over the flames, was the mode of roasting
and broiling of the aborigines, with whom utensils of pottery and metal
were unknown--a method often resorted to by woodsmen at the present
time.
The Persians were first to set an example of luxurious cookery, at
least as it was understood in ancient times--the favourable climate
and fertility of their products, as well as their natural inclination
to ease, all tending to foster a love for the pleasures of the table.
The oldest books of which we have any knowledge refer to their pomp in
banqueting, and portray the brilliant revels of the Oriental kings.
Thousands of years before Henrion de Pensey pronounced his famous
aphorism, a novel culinary preparation was regarded as of vaster
importance than a new celestial visitant. The saturnalia of Darius and
Xerxes, the powerful Persian despots, are notorious in history, as
are also the feasts of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Chaldea, and those of
Belshazzar, the final ruler of corrupt Babylon who fêted and feasted a
thousand of his lords, his wives, and his concubines. Anticipating the
munificence of the Roman emperors, Sardanapalus, last of the Assyrian
kings, offered a guerdon of a thousand pieces of gold to him who would
produce a new dish. "Eat, drink, amuse thyself: all else is vanity,"
was his maxim, and the precept he desired to have engraven on his tomb.
The book of Esther records the magnificent royal feast at Shushan
given in the third year of his reign by the Persian king Ahasuerus: a
carnival which lasted an hundred and fourscore days--where the beds
were of gold and silver upon a pavement of red and blue and white and
black marble; where were white, green, and blue hangings, fastened with
cords of fine linen and purple to silver rings and pillars of marble;
and where the people were given to drink, in vessels of gold, of royal
wine in abundance, according to the state of the king. From the land
of Zoroaster, therefore, the Greeks received their first lessons in
gastronomy.
Simplicity in their habits was a characteristic of the early Greeks,
this simplicity extending in a marked degree to their cookery, when
the famous Spartan black broth, composed of pork-broth, vinegar, and
salt, became a national dish. But this epoch of abstention was of
comparatively short duration. The spiritual sense was overcome by
the carnal, and, imitating the Arians, they soon converted a natural
craving into a hypersensuous pleasure.
The dinner or supper developed into an elaborate banquet, partaken
of on reclining couches, accompanied by wines of Corinth, Samos,
Chios, and Tenedos, the fumes of incense, the strains of music, and
the singing of pages and beautiful maids. The couches on which they
partook of their repasts and offered their generous libations to the
gods were ornamented with tortoise-shell, ivory, and bronze, some
being inlaid with pearls and precious stones; the mattresses were of
purple embroidered with gold. Then Archestratus, the Syracusan, who had
travelled far and wide in quest of alimentary dainties of different
lands, was the Carême of the Attic cuisine. His much-lauded poem on
"Gastronomy" is unfortunately lost to posterity, and thus it may not
be compared with that of Berchoux, composed twenty centuries later.
This poem Athenæus has termed a treasure of light, every verse of which
was a precept, and from which numerous cooks drew the principles of an
art that rendered them illustrious. The cook in the "Thesmophorus" of
Dionysius, however, denounces Archestratus, his rules, and his maxims.
But cooks are notoriously jealous and prone to asperse their rivals,
just as a jealous woman will decry another member of her sex whom men
admire. His aspersions, therefore, are not to be weighed against the
avalanche of encomiums that Archestratus has received. It was to the
select few who appreciated the delicacies and importance of his art
that his poem was addressed. He spoke with authority, and not as the
scribes. Witness his stately opening stanza, one of the few surviving
fragments of his epic:
"I write these precepts for immortal Greece,
That round a table delicately spread,
Or three, or four, may sit in choice repast,
Or five at most. Who otherwise shall dine
Are like a troop marauding for their prey."
Mithæcus, another famous Hellenic guide to epicurean delights, wrote a
book entitled "The Sicilian Cook," which has been mentioned by Plato;
but this was written in prose, and was the product of a former native
of Sicily, whence Greece was largely accustomed to draw her supply of
culinary masters. Among the most distinguished of Sicilian craftsmen
was Trimalchio, whose cunning is said to have been so great that when
he could not procure scarce and much coveted fish he could counterfeit
their form and flavour so deftly as to deceive even Neptune himself.
The cook of Nicomedes, King of the Babylonians, was accustomed to
serve him with anchovies, made in imitation of the real fish, at such
times as his majesty expressed a desire for anchovies on a sea voyage.
A turnip, disguised by oil, salt, poppy-seed, and other seasonings,
was the basis of the _plat_, the king, as Euphron, the comic writer,
records, smacking his lips over the dish and saying that cooks were
equally as useful as poets, and even more skilful. That, with the aid
of olives, salt pork, onion, parsley, condiments, and stuffing, with
veal as the medium, an accomplished cook can prepare a fair semblance
to an overdone quail is proverbial. But how a turnip can be made to
counterfeit anchovies is not so apparent. The celebrated repasts of
Socrates, at which the guests were seated on chairs, were an exception
to the luxury of the times; these entertainments were extremely frugal,
the cheer being of an intellectual more than a corporeal nature--a mere
collation,
"... light and choice,
Of Attic taste, with wine."
Epicurus, the Athenian who flourished three hundred years before the
Christian era, is wrongly supposed by many to have been one of the
_dediti ventri_--a slave to appetite and living only for epicurean
pleasure: a supposition that his name naturally implies. But it should
be recollected that in proposing pleasure or happiness as the supreme
good, he qualified this doctrine by the maxim that temperance is
necessary in order to enjoy the noble and durable pleasures which are
proper to human nature.
However varied the fare and splendid the appointments, the position of
the ancients at table--resting on their left elbows and reclining on
couches as the gnomon and clepsydra noiselessly marked the lapse of
the hours--must have been not only irksome, but one greatly furthering
stomachic maladies. Besides, it must be borne in mind that the ancients
ate with their fingers, while the use of emetics, first in vogue among
the Egyptians, and later on among the Romans in order to forefend
satiety and enable them to prolong their saturnalia, was extremely
common. The ten books of Athenæus give us a complete manual of olden
Greek cookery, and Herodotus, Plutarch, and other authors, if not as
exhaustive, are most fertile in references to the subject. Plato, who
denounced epicureanism and preferred olives to all other kinds of food,
often making his meal from them alone, nevertheless praises Attic
pastry, and extols the baker Thearion, who was noted for the perfection
of his bread.
Besides beef and mutton, kids, the domestic swine, fowls, the wild
boar, the roebuck, hares, rabbits, and numerous game and song birds,
the Greeks were especially fond of the peacock, served in all his
panoply of plumage.
As the Romans considered the mullet the king of fish, so the Greeks
regarded the sole as the _piscis nobilis_. They were served then, as
now, fried, when their size admitted, and likewise were prepared with a
savoury sauce under the name of _citharus_,--
"The cook produced an ample dish
Of frizzled soles, those best of fish,
Embrowned, and wafting through the room,
All sputtering still, a rich perfume."
Suckling pig was considered a signal delicacy, its charms no doubt
having been set forth in melodious measures in the lost poem of
Archestratus. Indeed, who knows but that the sportive grace of the
"Dissertation upon Roast Pig" may, after all, be Grecian rather than
Anglo-Saxon in essence, and be merely an inspiration caught from some
forgotten Attic author? The sea, on its part, yielded its infinite
treasures, including the oyster, the earth contributing its varied
fruits and esculents. Strong and sweet wine was a common beverage, both
mixed, unmixed, spiced, and scented.
After fish and game, pork was the most esteemed food set upon the
salvers of ancient Greece and Rome--a food in which epicures believed
themselves to have discovered fifty different flavours, or fifty
parts, each possessing an individual taste. At large entertainments,
and even where the guests were only equal in number to the Muses, it
was customary to serve pigs roasted whole, stuffed with sausages and
bursting with _boudins_, or "black pudding." The pig was salted by the
ancients in order to preserve it; but Apicius recommended, for keeping
purposes, that medium-sized pieces of pork be chosen and covered with a
paste composed of salt, vinegar, and honey, and be stored in carefully
closed vessels.
Of ancient recipes, Apicius and Athenæus present a vast array. Soyer
also, in his aspiring, cumbersome, and learned "Pantropheon," affords
convenient access to the mysteries of the Greek and Roman kitchens. But
the only way to pass intelligently upon the cookery of the ancients
would be to try it. It is true that we do not possess their marvellous
digestive powers ere their vigour became impaired by centuries of
unbridled luxury. To young and vigorous stomachs it is possible that,
if accompanied by the appropriate wines, some of their dishes, executed
by a skilful chef who would exercise extreme caution as regards the use
of cummin, rue, coriander, and boiled grapes, might prove an agreeable
surprise party at a dinner _à la Grecque_ or _à la Romaine_. So light
a touch and so discriminating a palate, however, are necessary in
employing certain herbs and spices; so much, moreover, depends upon
knowing the precise moment when an entrée or a ragout has received its
just caress from the flames, that only an artist of the foremost rank
would be able to reproduce some of these dishes with success.
Two especially prized dishes were those termed _myma_ and _mattya_--the
one composed of all kinds of finely minced viands and fowls, seasoned
with vinegar, cheese, onions, honey, raisins, and various spices; the
other a fowl boiled with a great variety of herbs. "Boil a fat hen
and some young cocks just beginning to crow, with some vinegar added
to the water, and in summer with sour grapes in place of the vinegar,
then remove the herbs from the vessel in which they are cooked and
serve portions of the fowls on the herbs, if you wish to make a dish
worthy to be eaten with your wine," enjoins Artimidor in his treatise
of cooking. Finally, Athenæus, in the "Banquet of the Learned," has the
scholarly host Laurentius give his recipe for what he terms the "Dish
of Roses," prepared, he states, in such a way that you may not only
have the ornament of a garland on your head, but also in yourself.
"'Having pounded a quantity of the most fragrant roses in a
mortar,' says Laurentius, 'I put in the brains of birds and
pigs boiled and thoroughly cleansed of all the sinews, and
also the yolks of eggs, and with them oil, and pickle-juice,
and pepper and wine. And having pounded all these things
carefully together, I put them into a new dish, applying a
gentle and steady fire to them.' And while saying this he
uncovered the dish, and diffused such a sweet perfume over the
whole party that one of the guests present said with great
truth:
'The winds perfumed, the balmy gale, convey
Through heav'n, through earth, and all the aërial way'--
so excessive was the fragrance which was diffused from the
roses."
Truly a noble _pot-pourri_--meet for the gods of high Olympus. The
pickle-juice, the pepper, and the wine denote the address of a master
in disguising any possible taint of the pen, while the yolks of eggs
and the oil would necessarily blend and assimilate with the attar of
the rose-leaves. Thus does a great architect plan the construction of a
cathedral, or a wizard of the brush adjust his pigments upon a canvas
that is destined to become immortal.
The early Greeks had four meals daily--the breakfast, or _acratisma_;
the dinner, _ariston_ or _deipnon_; the relish, _hesperisma_; and the
supper, _dorpe_. As luxury and cookery advanced, luncheon took the
place of the midday dinner, the latter, among the wealthier classes,
gradually being postponed to a later hour. At all great feasts and
dinners of ceremony, which it was customary to hold in the evening,
the bill of fare was presented to the guests, and huge chalices were
offered them to quaff from.
The frequent and detailed references by the old Greek dramatists,
poets and writers to eating, drinking and banqueting, and to the
various products employed as food, make it apparent to what an extent
gratification of appetite and feasting prevailed.
The reader who would penetrate further into the mysteries of Grecian
cookery may be referred with advantage to Homer's repast of Ulysses at
the home of Eumæus, Athenæus's "Marriage of Caranus," and Barthélemy's
"Feast of Dinias." But Homer's fare which he allowed his heroes was,
with few exceptions, extremely simple. Although he mentions many kinds
of wine, he praises moderation, and never represents either fish or
game as being put upon the table, but "viands of simple kind and
wholesome sort," such as were calculated to render man vigorous in body
and mind, the meat being all roasted and chiefly beef.
Athenæus, in particular, presents the Greek and Oriental kitchens in
all their aspects, and, with his marvellous erudition, proves himself
a very Burton of gastronomy--the most accomplished Master of Feasts
that antiquity has produced. To turn the pages of the "Deipnosophists,
or Banquet of the Learned" is to enter a larder of which he only holds
the key. Thus he introduces Damoxenus, the old Greek comic writer, who
picturesquely portrays a master cook of the period, superintending his
saucepans and directing the preparation of the feast:
"I never enter in my kitchen, I!
But sit apart, and in the cool, direct,
Observant of what passes,--scullions toil.
... I guide the mighty whole,
Explore the causes, prophesy the dish.
'Tis thus I speak: 'Leave, leave that ponderous ham;
Keep up the fire, and lively play the flame
Beneath those lobster patties;' 'Patient here,
Fix't as a statue, skim, incessant skim.'
'Steep well this small _glociscus_ in its sauce,
And boil that sea-dog in a cullender.'
'This eel requires more salt and marjoram;'
'Roast well that piece of kid on either side
Equal;' 'That sweetbread boil not over much.'
'Tis thus, my friend, I make the concert play.
* * * * *
And then no useless dish my table crowds.
Harmonious ranged, and consonantly just,
As in a concert instruments resound,
My ordered dishes in their courses chime."
The ideal cook is depicted with equal picturesqueness in a lengthy
tribute by Dionysius wherein he thus sums up his qualifications,--
"Know on thyself thy genius must depend.
All books of cookery, all helps of art,
All critic learning, all commenting notes,
Are vain, if void of genius thou wouldst cook!"
Cratinus, in his play of the "Giants," extols the merits of Sicilian
cookery:
"Consider now how sweet the earth doth smell,
How fragrantly the smoke ascends to heaven:
There lives, I fancy, here within this cave,
Some perfume-seller, or Sicilian cook."
And Hegesander, in his "Brothers," presents an _archimagirus_, proud
as Lucifer, who sings his own praises in the following grandiloquent
strain:
"When I am call'd to serve a funeral supper,
The mourners just return'd, silent and sad,
Clothed in funereal habits--I but raise
The cover of my pot, and every face
Assumes a smile, the tears are wash'd away.
Charm'd with the grateful flavour, they believe
They are invited to a wedding-feast.
* * * * *
Let me but have the necessary means,
A kitchen amply stored, and you shall see
That like enchantment I will spread around
A charm as powerful as the siren's voice.
* * * * *
You know not yet
The worth of him you speak to--look on those
Whom you see seated round, not one of them
But would his fortune risk to make me his."
Philemon, in turn, the witty Athenian bard, represents a cook as
pluming himself upon his cunning, and saying:
"Those who are dead already, when they've smelled
One of my dishes, come to life again."
Anthippus, too, presents a graduate of the range who was no less
proficient in the resources of his art, and who devised his dishes
according to the age of those who were to partake of them,--
"Insensible the palate of old age,
More difficult than the soft lips of youth
To move, I put much mustard in their dish;
With quickening sauces make their stupor keen,
And lash the lazy blood that creeps within."
Nor does Athenæus fail to depict a glutton of the period, transcribed
from Pherecrates:
"A. I scarcely in one day, unless I'm forced,
Can eat two bushels and a half of food.
B. A most unhappy man! how have you lost
Your appetite, so as now to be content
With the scant rations of one ship of war?"
Milo of Crotona, Titormus the Ætolian, and Astydamas the Milesian were
still more celebrated; and even Ulysses in his old age is represented
by Homer as eating "endless dishes" and quaffing "unceasing cups of
wine." Gargantua and Pantagruel evidently existed long before the days
of Rabelais, and time will run back to fetch the age of gluttony, as
well as that of gold.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
WITH LUCULLUS AND APICIUS
"Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the
taste is the same? But the partridge is dearer, and therefore
thought preferable."--MARTIAL, Epigrams, xiii. 76.
Passing from Greece to Italy, we find frugality to have been a
prominent trait of the early Romans, and porridge to have been the
national dish until wheaten bread was introduced from Athens. Like
the Greeks, who received their initial lessons from the Persians, the
Romans derived their knowledge of cookery from Attica, whence they
imported their first masters. The Romans proved apt scholars, and soon
outrivalled their instructors in the pleasures of the table, where the
pomp, luxury, and licentiousness of the times were carried to their
furthest limit. It is indeed well-nigh impossible to conceive the
splendour, prodigality, and sensuality that prevailed during the
Republic and the Empire, when fabulous revenues were squandered at a
single feast, and gluttony and intemperance were the gods of the hour.
[Illustration: PORTRAIT DU GOURMAND
After Carle Vernet]
It was towards the decline of the Republic, during the period of Pompey
the Great, Cæsar, and Lucullus, that, dispensing with the culinary
preceptors of Greece, the Roman cuisine attained its greatest celebrity.
For it was at this period that the great ravagers of the world, who
were to carry the name and arms of Rome into distant lands, brought
their cooks with them, who vied with one another in contributing
the most appetising dishes of various countries. It was then when
Antony, intoxicated with the spoils of conquest and more than usually
pleased with the artist of his kitchen, sent for him at the dessert
and presented him with a city of thirty-five thousand inhabitants--an
example followed in a minor way by Henry VIII of England, who rewarded
his cook for having composed a pudding of especial merit by the gift of
a manor. It was then that the Sybarites bestowed public recompense and
marks of distinction upon those who gave the most magnificent banquets,
and especially upon those who invented new dishes.[2] It was then that
the practised epicure professed to distinguish by the taste from what
locality of Italy a wild boar had been procured, or whether a pike had
been caught in the lower or upper Tiber. Thus Horace, in one of the
"Satires":
"But say by what Discernment are you taught
To know that this voracious Pike was caught
Where the full River's lenient Waters glide,
Or where the Bridges break the rapid Tide:
In the mid-Ocean, or where Tiber pays
With broader Course his Tribute to the Seas."[3]
It was then that the rich Romans had at their villas magnificent
_piscinæ_ filled with fresh- and salt-water fishes that might be netted
at a moment's notice to set before their guests. In his ode "On the
Prevailing Luxury," the Venusian bard also alludes to these _vivaria_
and the inordinate fondness for fish of the Romans:
"Soon regal piles each rood of land
Will from the farmer's ploughshare take,
Soon ponds be seen on every hand
More spacious than the Lucrine lake."[4]
The mansions of the wealthy were likewise provided with splendid
aviaries filled with thrushes that were fed with millet and crushed
figs mixed with wheaten flour. Cygnets and snow-white geese were held
in great repute, and when fattened upon green figs their livers were
highly prized.
Hortensius the consul was among the first to maintain salt-water ponds
stocked with his favourite fish, the red mullet of the Mediterranean.
He was also the introducer of the peacock served in its feathers, a
dish extremely popular during the Republic. Horace proved a better
judge than his many moneyed hosts, and chose the chicken in preference,
asserting that it was the costliness of the bird of Juno and the glory
of his glittering train more than the quality of the flesh that were
prized. Artificial oyster-beds, according to Pliny, were first formed
at Baiæ by Sergius Orata, a contemporary of Crassus the orator, not
for the gratification of gluttony, but as a speculation from which he
derived a large income. He too was the first to adjudge the preëminence
for delicacy of flavour to the oysters of Lake Lucrinus. Preserves were
subsequently formed by others for murenæ, sea-snails, and numerous
saline delicacies.
Like the Hellenes, the Romans had three meals--the breakfast
(_jentaculum_), the luncheon (_prandium_), and the dinner (_cena_).
Originally, as has been the case with all peoples, the dinner was
held in the morning, but with the progress of luxury and owing to the
greater convenience to men of affairs, it became gradually deferred to
late afternoon or evening. Nine was the favourite number of guests at
the _cena_. It was a custom borrowed from the Greeks to appoint a king
or dictator of the feast, who prescribed its laws, which the guests
were bound, under penalties, to obey. By him the quantity of the cups
to be drunk was decided, ten bumpers being the usual allowance--nine
in honour of the Muses, and one to Apollo. Similar to the Grecian
custom, every man who had a mistress was compelled to toast her when
called upon. To this a penalty was sometimes attached, in which case
the challenger was obliged to empty a cup to each letter of the lady's
name. When the gallant had reasons for secrecy, he merely announced the
number of cups which had to be drunk.
The place of tobacco was taken by perfumes at feasts, a practice
carried by the Romans to great excess. Nard and other perfumes in use
being extremely costly, Horace insists upon Virgil contributing them
when he comes to dine in the vale of Ustica. Catullus, also, who asks
his friend Fabullus to dinner, agrees to supply the perfumes, providing
Fabullus bring with him all the other requisites. The spiciness of
the essences doubtless spurred the appetite, and tended to produce a
pleasant languor.[5]
Very numerous plants and herbs were employed as flavourings in the
kitchens of the ancients, such as dill, anise-seed, hyssop, thyme,
pennyroyal, rue, cummin, poppy-seed, shallots, and, naturally, onions,
garlic, and leeks--savoury then taking the place of parsley, which,
though known, was used more as a decoration and worn by guests as
an adornment. Cummin was largely utilised for seasoning. Sorrel was
cultivated by the Romans to increase its size, and, according to
Apicius, was eaten stewed with mustard and seasoned with oil and
vinegar. The carrot was stewed, boiled with cummin and a little oil,
and eaten as a salad, with salt, oil, and vinegar.
Brocoli was an especial favourite with Apicius, the most tender parts
being boiled, with the addition of pepper, chopped onions, cummin
and coriander seed bruised together, and a little oil and sun-made
wine. Turnips were boiled and seasoned with rue, cummin, and benzoin,
pounded in a mortar, adding afterwards honey, vinegar, gravy, boiled
grapes, and oil. Asparagus, which Lamb says inspires gentle thoughts,
was cultivated with notable care. The finest heads were dried, and
when wanted were placed in hot water and boiled. Lucullus and Apicius
ate only those that were grown in the environs of Nesis, a city of
Campania. Beets, mallows, artichokes, and cucumbers were greatly
relished and elaborately prepared, and garlic, extolled by Virgil and
decried by Horace, was generously used.