Une bisque d'écrevisses.
Un potage à la Reine au lait d'amandes, avec biscotes.
Une Julienne aux pointes d'asperges.
Un consommé de volaille.
4 Relevés de Potages.
Un brochet à la Chambord.
Une dinde aux truffes.
Un turbot.
Une culotte de bœuf au vin de Madère, garnie de légumes.
12 Entrées.
Un aspic de filets mignons de perdreaux.
Une jardinière.
Des filets de poularde, piqués aux truffes.
Des perdreaux rouges au fumet.
Des filets de mauviette sautés.
Des scaloppes de poularde, au velouté.
Des filets de lapereaux, en turban.
Un vol au vent à la financière.
Des ailerons piqués, à la chicorée.
Deux poulets de grains au beurre d'écrevisse.
Des scaloppes de saumon, à l'espagnole.
Des filets mignons, piqués de truffes.
SECOND SERVICE.
4 grosses Pièces.
Une truite.
Une pâté de foies gras.
Des écrevisses.
Un jambon glacé.
4 Plats de Rôt.
Un faisan.
Des éperlans.
Des bécassines.
Des soles.
8 Entremêts.
Une jatte de blancmanger.
Un miroton de pommes.
Des asperges en branche.
Des truffes à la serviette.
Une jatte de gelée d'orange.
Un soufflé à la vanille.
Des cardons à la moelle.
Des truffes à la serviette.
This menu, which was termed "illustrious and astounding" by La
Reynière, tells its own story too well, as he observes, to need
any comment. It is only to be regretted that there is no record of
the accompanying wines or of the previous training of the guests
who sat down to the feast. The item _un faisan_ will be understood
in the plural, there having been twenty-four persons present, and
among that number it is to be presumed that more than two or three
would stand ready to attack a well-hung pheasant resplendent in his
tail-feathers. Still, there are only two _poulets de grains_ specified
in the list, which would indicate that the menu was strictly one of
quality, not of quantity--a thing to coquet and flirt with, rather
than to charge upon with no thought of the penalty of the morrow. As
the mention of truffles _à la serviette_ occurs twice at the end of
the _lecture_, it may be assumed that this was considered a doubly
important entremets--the last to leave its perfume in the mouth and
accentuate the _sève_ diffused by the final glass of Château Lafite
or Clos-Vougeot. On the restaurateur and the chef the editor enjoins
continued efforts looking to the advancement of the grand art of
dining, exhorting them that to cease their exertions would mean to
recede, and that to maintain their exalted reputation they should
labour daily as if it were yet to be won.
Altogether, the "Almanach" will be found most remunerative reading
by those who peruse it with a proper sense of its important aim. We
may not hope to equal the appetite of the author, it is true, but its
attentive study will assuredly stimulate appetite and amply instruct us
in the æsthetics and delights of the table. The only dietetic heresy
that presents itself to the writer is the eulogy of the strawberry as
an article of diet, for which Linnæus the botanist and Dr. Boteler are
originally responsible, it being well known that this fruit in gout
and rheumatism--two frequent colleagues of good cheer--is often as
deadly as port. Preserved Wiesbaden or Bar-le-Duc strawberries, safely
tucked in the folds of an omelette, are less pernicious, and may be
partaken of occasionally if convoyed by the right wine. The raw fruit
should always be sparingly indulged in by the epicure; boys and women
alone may eat it with comparative impunity. To this one exception has
been chronicled--"Strawberries and cream render me sad," said Mme. du
Deffand; and, remembering Malherbe's praise of women and melons, madame
wisely left them alone.
Finally, among all those who have discoursed upon the theme, it may
be said that La Reynière comes the nearest perhaps in illustrating
Montaigne's expression, _l'art de la gueule_. And, despite the
laudations of the venders with which it is so generously interlarded,
the "Almanach" well merits a full morocco binding by Ruban, with
dentelle borders _à l'oiseau_, and a pâté stamped on its covers in gold.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE CHEF
From a print after an old Dutch master]
[Illustration]
A GERMAN SPEISEKARTE
"Beim vollen Humpen zechen wir, wir kräftigen Germanen,
Und trinken von dem edlen Bier wie weiland unsere Ahnen;
Denn in dem edlen Gerstensaft, da sprudelt noch die alte Kraft."[22]
By the French the Germans are charged with having no cuisine that is
worthy of the name, and having produced no poet of gastronomy or no
work on the subject that merits serious attention. Dining at midday,
and fond of Pumpernickel, what can they be but "barbarians," and how
may they be expected to comprehend the finesse of an art which has been
created for the elect among mankind? "Surely," argues De Quincey, "of
the rabid animal who is caught dining at noonday, the _homo ferus_ who
affronts the meridian sun by his inhuman meals, we are entitled to say
that he has a maw, but nothing resembling a stomach. A nation must
be barbarous which dined in the morning." As with day's decline the
sun illumes with fairest hues the western sky, and Nature gradually
prepares for sleep by the restful hour of twilight, so it would seem
that man, in like manner, after the cark and care of the day should
refresh himself by the solace that waits upon the evening dinner and
pleasant companionship ere he too retires for the slumbers that are to
fit him for the exigencies of the morrow.
But habit is everything, and it is well not to accept these aspersions
too seriously, and to remember that no nation surpasses the Germans
in the important art of baking, including all forms of breadstuffs
and pastry. From her inviting _Bäckereis_ and _Conditoreis_ floats an
ambrosial fragrance that may not be equalled by the _pâtisseries_ of
Paris, the variety of her products being as great as their cheapness
and wholesomeness. One is born a poet, saith the adage; it is equally
true that the German is a born baker who has no superior in his sphere.
Perchance German cook-books and gastronomical literature have been
summarily passed upon, and are not uninteresting reading, after all. It
should be recollected that Frederick the Great wrote a poem in praise
of his cook, that Martin Schookius composed a book on cheese entitled
"De Aversione Casei," and that still another old German work has for
its theme the zest of a lemon-peel--a topic that assuredly calls for
consummate skill in its elaboration.
Since the latter half of the sixteenth century Germany has contributed
her full share of manuals on cookery as compared with most countries.
Already, about 1500, there appeared a work entitled "Ein nützlichs
Buchlin von der Speis des Menschen." Among the more important treatises
of the same century were "Ein neu Kochbuch" (1587), by Marx Rumpolt,
cook to the Elector of Mainz and to the Queen of Denmark, and Frau
Anna Wecker's "Neu Köstlich und nützliches Koch-Buch" (1597). It was
about this period that Montaigne, after his travels through Italy
and Germany, declared that even in the inns the Germans paid far
better attention to the furbishing of their plates and dishes than
was the case with the hostelries of France. Treatises relating to
"wohl-schmeckenden Speisen" and "vornehme Tafeln" have since continued
to multiply in the Fatherland, until Germany has become fully satisfied
with her own mode of cookery and such modifications of certain French
and Italian dishes as accord with her chosen ideas of nutrition.
Yet the German cook-book presents serious drawbacks. For, apart from
the inevitable tendency of the _Zeitwort_ to twine itself around
the end of well-nigh interminable sentences, the characters of the
language itself are so trying that a scientific treatise may be perused
only at the risk of being compelled to resort to spectacles forever
afterwards. The melodious measures of Goethe and Schiller, the cadences
of Heine and Lenau, will be found less formidable, the rhythm and
flow carrying the eye over the typographical boulders with greater
ease. A German cook-book, however, may well deter the most insatiable
student from proceeding farther than the initial chapter. Think, for
example, what the difficulties would be of absorbing a volume which
presents such a title as this: "Die Feinere Kochkunst dargestellt nach
den Erfordernissen unserer Zeit, mit Berücksichtigung der damit in
Verbindung stehenden sonstigen Zweigen der Gastronomie."
Fancy endeavouring to solve the true inwardness of an ancient Nürnberg
treatise which bears this explanation of its contents: "Vollständig
vermehrtes Trincier-Buch, von Tafeldecken Trinciren, zeitigung der
Mundkoste, Schauessen und Schaugerichten, benebens xxiv Gast oder
Tischfragen."
And when we reflect that the German author who undertakes to
elucidate a given theme probes it to the very bottom as far as human
understanding and science can fathom it, we may readily conclude that
to master the literature of German gastronomy would call for stupendous
patience on the part of an alien.
Yet Germany has contributed a volume in the French language respecting
a province of the nation under consideration, wherein the table
manners, customs, alimentation, and the public and private life of the
old Germans are most picturesquely and minutely set forth.[23] The
ancient province of Alsace, where forty-two varieties of pâtés and
countless varieties of cakes have been in use for several centuries,
has ever been noted for the excellence of its cooks and its fondness
for good cheer. In the tenth century Bishop Uthon of Strassburg
viewed with alarm the table excesses of the priests of his diocese,
which he attempted to check by establishing monastic schools. In the
fourteenth century, on the other hand, Bishop de Lyne, who was termed
_Kappen-Esser_, was charged with gross intemperance by the clergy,
who averred he thought only of the pleasures of the table--_gulæ
ebrietatique deditus_--and that he was unable to hold morning audiences
without having previously partaken of a rich soup and a fat capon.
Dating from early times, Alsace became known as the wine-cellar,
granary, and larder of the surrounding countries--a paradise and a
garden eminently favourable for good living. Charles Gérard has proved
the local Dumas, and his volume, besides its erudite presentation
of the resources and olden customs of the country, contains many
interesting gastronomical anecdotes, such as "Favourite dishes of
celebrated personages," "Influence of a Rhein carp on a financier of
the school of Fouquet," "Frying, its nature and effect on manners,"
etc. Assuredly should a nation be credited with a natural aptitude for
gastronomy which in the early part of 1700 could devise an omelette of
brook-trout (_Forellen Eyerkuchen_) and cold pâtés of trout (_Forellen
Kalte Pasteten_), to say nothing of a certain pâté of fish (_Pâté de
langues de carpes et foies de lottes_) composed of the tongues of carp,
eels' livers, and the tails of crawfish--the invention of a Strassburg
_Koch_, which he served to the Cardinal de Rohan, and which M. Gérard
defines as the supreme limit of epularly eminence.
The researches of M. Gérard place the national dish, Sauerkraut, as an
invention dating from beyond the middle ages and proclaim its origin as
distinctly Alsatian. The date of the frog's leap into the frying-pan
he places in the year 1280, and specifies Alsace as the discoverer of
his edible qualities. The potage bisque or bisque d'écrevisses has long
been known to the epicures of the province, while the merits of stuffed
crabs were pointed out in the "Oberrheinisches Koch-Buch" of Frau
Spörlin, wife of a Protestant minister of Mulhausen. Among the strange
customs described is that appertaining to the olden festival called
Hirztag, at which time women and maids alone had the right to appear in
the inns and liquid dispensaries and avail themselves of the privileges
extended to men in eating and drinking. On these occasions any of the
male sex who was brave enough to appear was seized, stripped of his hat
and coat, and obliged to pay forfeit by a round of wine--a usage thus
described by the poet Moscherosch:
"Spitze Schue und Knöpflein dran,
Die Frau ist Meister und nicht der Mann."
(With jaunty button'd and pointed shoe,
Gretschen will riot it over you.)
No work on cookery in the German language, it is true, has obtained a
great reputation outside of its own country. But although the Teuton
is a midday diner, a custom that must prove inimical to gastronomical
perfection and thereby the highest social evolution, it were extremely
unjust to charge him with a lack of understanding in eating. On the
contrary, no one, not even the Gaul, enjoys eating and drinking more
than he, or eats and drinks amid pleasanter surroundings during a large
portion of the year. The open-air restaurants and beer-gardens are a
feature, and a most delightful feature, of German life. In the shaded
bowers of the Wirthshaus, under the umbrage of horse-chestnuts and
limes, to the plash of fountains in suburban Gasthof gardens, amid the
consonance of viols and reeds in the attractive temples of Gambrinus,
do the Germans voice the refrain,
"Isz, trink, sei fröhlich hier auf Erd',
Und denk nicht dass es besser wird."
(Eat, drink, be merry, seize the present hour,
Deem not the future holds a fairer flower.)
It must not be forgotten that in the course of time the cookery of
every nation gradually becomes complementary to the national beverages.
Conversant with the popular drinks of a people, one may promptly form
an opinion of their alimentation and characteristics. The cookery of
Germany has become subservient to, and, as it were, revolves around
Münchner and Pilsener, Hochheimer and Deidesheimer. If, therefore,
one cannot appreciate its innumerable brews and the juices of the
Riesling and the Traminer, its forms of nutrition will naturally
prove distasteful, in the same manner that the virtues of French
entrées would be found wanting if deprived of the ruby pressings
of the Sauvignon and Pinot. The rosy Schweinerippchen, after its
bath in saltpetre, and also Sauerkraut would be impossible without
their syncretic accompaniment, beer or a German white wine; and it
is only since the general use of beer in the United States that the
last-named dish, from being considered a vulgar one has become so
popular, notwithstanding it is usually but a shade of its original as
one knows it in its own home. The same may be said of sausages, in
the compounding of which the Teuton is master of the world. Different
nations, like different individuals, enjoy things in their own way, and
who shall determine whether the Gaul or the Teuton makes the most of
the fleeting hour, which necessarily includes the pleasures attendant
upon the daily nourishment of man?
Who that has visited the land of the three fluvial graces--the Rhein,
the Neckar, and the Donau--does not retain pleasant memories of some
native dish partaken of amid picturesque surroundings?--a Hasenbraten,
a Pfannkuchen, a duck, a Bockwurst, Knackwurst, or a Wienerwürstle that
fairly melts in one's mouth. How lovely those trout which were served
at the Wolfsbrunnen at Heidelberg, which you savoured in the cool of
the evening after seeing them caught fresh from the spring itself!
The Spätzle and Nudeln and sour sauce, too, which rival the national
dish of Italy; the veal cutlets and sautéd potatoes, which one never
meets as perfect as in southern Germany, and that attain their supreme
excellence in a summer Gasthof garden, must likewise ever be held in
grateful remembrance. How golden the landscape looked through your
Rhein wine Römer, how drowsily the clouds floated over the Odenwald,
and how delightfully the evening breeze awoke the responsive chords
of the beeches! In whatever direction one may turn, there is always a
haven for the hungry and the thirsty. No hill is too high, no valley
too remote for its font of refreshment, where the tap is invariably
fresh and the shrine of more substantial "restoration" is seldom to be
despised. On every hand one may find the welcome of an inn, as hearty
as Shenstone's, and, where the nature of the surroundings will allow,
one may readily verify the lines of the old poet:
"Nun kommt der grüne Berg wo selbsten auch nichts fehlt,
Von dem was das Gemüth ermuntert und erfreuet;
Deshalb wird er auch vielfältiglich erwählet,
Er hat den schönsten Stof zur grösten Fröhlichkeit."
(Well stored with all that gladd'neth man,
The green hill rises, cool and fair;
And many a pilgrim, spent and wan,
Doth quaff from font of Münchner there.)
Clearly, the _Gemüthlichkeit_ of the Germans, a word for which an
equivalent scarcely exists in any other language, may be traced to the
national beverages and an alimentation with which they harmonise--with
golden opportunities to cultivate it in the Wirthshaus, Gasthof,
restaurant, and beer-garden.
In many of the larger restaurants and beer-gardens which are conducted
on a scale that is well defined by the favourite term, "kolossal,"
the great Speisekarte, ornately decorated and rubricated in the olden
style, is grandly in evidence. A typical index to good cheer may be
taken from almost any of the vast breweries of Munich, with their
long lists of Braten, Wildpret, Pfannengerichte, Eierspeisen, Salat
and Compots. On some of these appears an epitome of the corps of
assistants, including the white-aproned waitresses with their names and
characteristics, and the great array of help that is necessary to slake
the thirst and appease the hunger of a German multitude. The conclusion
of the Speisekarte of the Löwenbräukeller may be cited as an example:
=Gesammt-Personal der Restauration
Löwenbräukeller München=
Concert-Saal oder Garten
1 Ursula, die Oberkellnerin, 18[24]
2 Therese, die Schwarze, 8
3 Grethi, die Dicke, 13
4 Marie, die Schwarze
5 Marie, die Tirolerin, 17
6 Anna, die Schwiegermutter, 13
7 Gertraud, die Schlanke, 9
8 Leni, die Durstige, 7
9 Marie, 6
10 Marie, die Dicke, 6
11 Pepi
12 Lina
13 Kathi, die Schwabingerin
14 Marie, die Freundliche
15 Therese
16 Marie, die Schöne
17 Veronika
18 Anna, die Stille
19 Babette
20 Anna, die Brave
21 Emilie, die Stramme
22 Marie, die Schwäbin
23 Röschen
24 Hildegard }
25 Marie, die Blonde } Gallerie
26 Marie, die Schwarze }
27 Emma }
28 Elise } I. Nebensaal
29 Betty }
30 Klara }
31 Thekla--Spiel oder 1 Thurmzimmer
32 Paula }
33 Amanda } II. Nebensaal
34 Lucie }
35 Rosa }
36 Hulda } Löwenterrasse
37 Emmy }
38 Louise }
39 Martha } untere Terrasse
40 Gusti }
41 Cäcilie }
42 Hanna } obere Terrasse
43 Adelheid }
44 Grethi, die Kleine
45 Therese, die Schwarze
46 Elise, die Große
47 Anna, die Schlanke
48 Cenzi, die Hübsche
49 Toni, die Sanfte
50 Marie, die Dicke
50 Kellnerinnen
* * * * *
1 Geschäftsführer
1 erster Cassier
2 zweite Cassiere
2 Ceremoniers
2 Billeteurs, 2 Controleurs
1 Programm-Verkäufer
4 Postkarten-Verkäufer
1 Garderobier
2 Garderobe-Cassiere
8 Garderobe-Gehilfen
1 Velociped-Aufbewahrer
1 erster Metzger
2 zweiter Metzger
1 Lehrjunge (Piccolo)
6 Schenkkassiere
6 Einschenker
1 Hausmeister
1 Hausschreiner
1 Monteur für electrische Beleuchtung
1 Hausgärtner
1 Hausknecht (Bieraufzieher)
1 Laufbursche
2 Besteckputzer
1 Buchhalterin und 1 Buffetdame
4 Buffetdamen
1 erste und 1 zweite Küchenbeschließerin
1 Weißzeugbeschließerin
1 Ober-Köchin (_chef de cuisine_)
1 erste Köchin (für Braten, Geflügel u. Wildpret)
1 zweite Köchin (für Pfannengerichte u. Ragouts)
1 dritte Köchin (für Gemüse und Eierspeisen)
1 vierte Köchin (für Spieß- und Rostbraterei)
4 Kochpraktikantinnen (Kochfräulein)
1 erste und 1 zweite Küchenmagd
1 Kupferputzerin
1 Mädchen für Speiseaufzug im Bräustübel
1 Mädchen für Speiseaufzug im großen Saal
1 Mädchen f. Speiseaufzug f. Gallerie u. Nebensaal
3 Biermädchen
1 Zimmermädchen
1 Waschmagd
6 Hausmägde
135 Personen
The cookery of Germany is, on the whole, both appetising and wholesome.
In the better class of restaurants and hotels it has absorbed many
modes of preparation from France, combining these with its own. Where
cookery has stood still in the latter country, it has advanced in the
former; and one may dine as well, perhaps, in many of its smaller
towns as in most provincial hostelries beyond its borders. Its private
cookery remains more distinct and preserves its local flavour. If
the French are more successful with the chicken, the Germans may be
relied upon to do full justice to the goose and duck. Nowhere does the
fowl which saved Rome rise to the sublime heights that it does in the
district of the Vosges, not only as a roast with "Compot," but in its
more ethereal perfection--the goose-liver "Pastete," or pâté de foie
gras.
If one desires a roast goose after the German mode, let him proceed
after the following manner: Rub a young dressed goose overnight with
salt, pepper, sage, thyme, and sweet marjoram inside and out; in the
morning prepare a dressing as follows--a large handful of stoned
raisins and Zante currants, bread crumbs, a couple of sour apples
chopped fine, and one mealy potato, with butter mixed in, and all well
rolled together, but put no spices in the dressing. For the gravy,
boil the giblets in a little water and mash the liver in a spoonful of
flour, chop the gizzard, stir these in the liquid they were boiled in,
add it to the gravy in the dripping-pan, sprinkle in a little thyme,
sage, and sweet marjoram, and it is done. Serve the gravy separately.
When cooked and served, garnish with sliced lemons and parsley. A
"Compot" of some kind, like Hagenmark, cherries with Kirsch, or even
applesauce, if not too tart, should complete the dish.
The duck may be similarly treated; but a goose or duck _à l'Allemande_
would scarcely meet with favour in France, where the rules are laid
down so strictly that even a slight deviation from accepted canons
would be met by a hiss from parquet and gallery alike. Thus the
"Almanach des Gourmands," in speaking of the young wild duck, or
albran, which in October becomes a canardeau and in November a canard,
mentions, among various ways of preparing it, that of serving it with
turnips, adding that this honour belongs more strictly to _monsieur
son père_. This gastronomic slip--that of serving turnips with a
_wild_ duck--on the part of La Reynière, who is rarely caught napping
in anything relating to foods or food preparations, aroused the ire
of Savarin, who protests against it in these vigorous words: "The
adjunction of such a vegetable as this to this noble game would be
for a young wild duck an improper and even injurious proceeding, a
monstrous alliance, a dishonourable degradation." On the other hand,
Savarin himself was roundly denounced by M. de Courchamps for assigning
a truffled turkey a place among the roasts instead of among the large
pieces of the first service. This culinary heresy, he states, has
lessened the esteem in which M. Brillat-Savarin has been held in other
respects, and seriously hurt the reputation of his book. The ethics of
gastronomy, it will be seen, are as marked as those of society, and
the arrangement of a bill of fare calls for as much finesse as do the
functions of a chaperon.