"A Gothic window, where a damask curtain
Made the blank daylight shadowy and uncertain;
A slab of agate on four eagle-talons
Held trimly up and neatly taught to balance;
A porcelain dish, o'er which in many a cluster
Plump grapes hung down, dead ripe, and without lustre;
A melon cut in thin, delicious slices,
A cake, that seemed mosaic-work in spices;
Two china cups, with golden tulips sunny,
And rich inside, with chocolate like honey;
And she and I the banquet scene completing
With dreamy words, and very pleasant eating."
If all lunches could be as poetic and as simple and as luxurious as
this, the hostess would have little trouble in giving a lunch. But,
alas! from the slice of cold ham, or chicken, and bread and butter,
has grown the grand hunt breakfast, and the ladies' lunch, most
delicious of luxurious time-killers. The lunch, therefore, has become
in the house of the opulent as elaborate as the dinner.
Twenty years ago in England I had the pleasure of lunching with Lord
Houghton, and I well remember the simplicity of that meal. A cup of
bouillon, a joint of mutton, roasted, and carved by the host, a tart,
some peaches, very fine hot-house fruit, and a glass of sherry was all
that was served on a very plain table to twenty guests. But what a
company of wits, belles, and beauties we had to eat it! I once lunched
with Browning on a much simpler bill of fare. I have lunched at the
beautiful house of Sir John Millais on what might have been a good
family dinner with us. And I have lunched in Hampton Court, in the
apartments of Mr. Beresford, now dead, who was a friend of George the
Fourth and an old Tory whipper-in, on a slice of cold meat, a cutlet,
a gooseberry tart, and some strawberries as large as tomatoes from the
garden which was once Anne Boleyn's.
What a great difference between these lunches and a ladies' lunch in
New York, which, laid for twenty-eight people, offers every kind of
wine, every luxury of fish, flesh, and fowl, flowers which exhibit the
most overwhelming luxury of an extravagant period, fruits and bonbons
and _bonbonnières_, painted fans to carry home, with ribbons on which
is painted one's monogram, etc.
I have seen summer wild-flowers in winter at a ladies' lunch, as the
last concession to a fancy for what is unusual. The order having been
given in September, the facile gardener raised these flowers for this
especial lunch. Far more expensive than roses at a dollar apiece is
this bringing of May into January. It is impossible to say where
luxury should stop; and, if people can afford it, there is no
necessity for its stopping. It is only to be regretted that luxury
frightens those who might like to give simple lunches.
A lunch-party of ladies should not be crowded, as handsome gowns take
up a great deal of room; and therefore a lunch for ten ladies in a
moderate house is better than a larger number. As ladies always wear
their bonnets the room should not be too hot.
The menu is very much the same as a dinner, excepting the soup. In its
place cups of bouillon or of clam juice, boiled with cream and a bit
of sherry, are placed before each plate. There follows presumably a
plate of lobster croquettes with a rich sauce, _filet de boeuf_
with truffles and mushrooms, sweetbread and green peas, perhaps
asparagus or cauliflower.
Then comes _sorbet_, or Roman punch, much needed to cool the palate
and to invigorate the appetite for further delicacies. The Roman punch
is now often served in very fanciful frozen shapes of ice, resembling
roses, or fruit of various kinds. If a lady is not near a confectioner
she should learn to make this herself. It is very easy, if one only
compounds it at first with care, Maraschino cordial or fine old
Jamaica rum being mixed with water and sugar as for a punch, and well
frozen.
The game follows, and the salad. These two are often served together.
After that the ices and fruit. Cheese is rarely offered at a lady's
lunch, excepting in the form of cheese straws. Château Yquem,
champagne, and claret are the favourite wines. Cordial is offered
afterward with the coffee. A lady's lunch-party is supposed to begin
at one o'clock and end at three.
It is a delightful way of showing all one's pretty things. At a
luncheon in New York I have seen a tablecloth of linen into which has
been inserted duchesse lace worth, doubtless, several hundred dollars,
the napkins all trimmed with duchesse, worth at least twenty dollars
apiece. This elegant drapery was thrown over a woollen broadcloth
underpiece of a pale lilac.
In the middle of the table was a grand epergne of the time of Louis
Seize; the glass and china were superb. At the proper angle stood
silver and gold cups, ornamental pitchers, and claret jugs. At every
lady's plate stood a splendid bouquet tied with a long satin ribbon,
and various small favours, as fans and fanciful _menus_ were given.
As the lunch went on we were treated to new surprises of napery and
of Sèvres plates. The napkins became Russian, embroidered with gold
thread, as the spoons and forks were also of Russian silver and gold,
beautifully enamelled. Then came those embroidered with heraldic
animals,--the lion and the two-headed eagle and griffin,--the monogram
gracefully intertwined.
Plates were used, apparently of solid gold and beautiful workmanship.
The Roman punch was hidden in the heart of a water lily, which looked
uncommonly innocent with its heart of fire. The service of this lunch
was so perfect that we did not see how we were served; it all moved as
if to music. Pleasant chat was the only addition which our hostess
left for us to add to her hospitality. I have lunched at many great
houses all over the world, but I have never seen so luxurious a
picture as this lunch was.
It has been a question whether oysters on the half-shell should be
served at a lady's lunch. For my part I think that they should,
although many ladies prefer to begin with the bouillon. All sorts of
_hors d'oeuvres_, like olives, anchovies, and other relishes, are in
order.
In summer, ladies sometimes serve a cold luncheon, beginning with iced
bouillon, salmon covered with a green sauce, cold birds and salads,
ices and strawberries, or peaches frozen in cream. Cold asparagus
dressed as a salad is very good at this meal.
In English country-houses the luncheon is a very solid meal, beginning
with a stout roast with hot vegetables, while chicken salad, a cold
ham, and various meat pies stand on the sideboard. The gentlemen get
up and help the ladies; the servants, after going about once or twice,
often leave the room that conversation may be more free.
It might well improve the young housekeeper to study the question of
potted meats, the preparation of Melton veal, the various egg salads,
as well as those of potato, of lobster and chicken, so that she may be
prepared with dishes for an improvised lunch. Particularly in the
country should this be done.
The etiquette of invitations for a ladies' lunch is the same as that
of a dinner. They are sent out a fortnight before; they are carefully
engraved, or they are written on note paper.
MRS. SOMERVILLE
Requests the pleasure of
MRS. MONTGOMERY'S
Company at lunch on Thursday, 15th,
at 1 o'clock.
R. S. V. P.
This should be answered at once, and the whole engagement treated with
the gravity of a dinner engagement.
These lunch-parties are very convenient for ladies who, from illness
or indisposition to society, cannot go out in the evening. It is also
very convenient if the lady of the house has a husband who does not
like society and who finds a dinner-party a bore.
The usual custom is for ladies to dress in dark street dresses, and
their very best. That with an American lady means much, for an
American husband stops at no expense. Worth says that American women
are the best customers he has,--far better than queens. The latter ask
the price, and occasionally haggle; American women may ask the price,
but the order is, the very best you can do.
Luncheons are very fashionable in England, especially on Sunday. These
lunches, although luxurious, are by no means the costly spreads which
American women indulge in. They are attended by gentlemen as well as
ladies, for in a land where a man does not go to the House of Commons
until five in the afternoon he may well lunch with his family. What
time did our forefathers lunch? In the reign of Francis the First the
polite French rose at five, dined at nine, supped at five, and went to
bed at nine. Froissart speaks of "waiting upon the Duke of Lancaster
at five in the afternoon after he had supped." If our ancestors dined
at nine, when did they lunch?
After some centuries the dinner hour grew to be ten in the morning, by
which time they had besieged a town and burned up a dozen heretics,
probably to give them a good appetite, a sort of _avant goût_. The
later hours now in vogue did not prevail until after the Restoration.
Lunch has remained fastened at one o'clock, for a number of years at
least. In England, curiously enough, they give you no napkins at this
meal, which certainly requires them.
A hunt breakfast in America is, of course, a hearty meal, to which the
men and women are asked who have an idea of riding to hounds. It is
usually served at little tables, and the meal begins with hot
bouillon. It is a heartier meal than a lady's lunch, and as luxurious
as the hostess pleases; but it does not wind up with ices and fruits,
although it may begin with an orange. Much more wine is drunk than at
a lady's lunch, and yet some hunters prefer to begin the day with tea
only. Everything should be offered, and what is not liked can be
refused.
"What is hit, is History,
And what is missed is Mystery."
There are famous breakfasts in London which are not the early morning
meal, neither are they called luncheons. It is the constant habit of
the literary world of London to have reunions of scientific and
agreeable people early in the day, and what would be called a party in
the evening, is called a breakfast. We should call it a reception,
except that one is asked at eleven o'clock. But the greatest misnomer
of all is the habit in London of giving a dinner, a ball, and a supper
out of doors at five o'clock, and calling that a "breakfast." Except
that the gentlemen are in morning dress and the ladies in bonnets this
has no resemblance to what we call breakfast.
Breakfast at nine, or earlier, is a solemn process. It has no great
meaning for us, who have our children to send to school, our husbands
to prepare for business, ourselves for a busy day or a long journey.
For the very luxurious it no longer exists.
Luncheon on the contrary is apt to be a lively and exhilarating
occasion. It is the best moment in the day to some people. A thousand
dollars is not an unusual sum to expend on a lady's lunch in New York
for eighteen or twenty-five guests, counting the favours, the flowers,
the wines, and the viands, and even then we have not entered into the
cost of the china, the glass, porcelain, _cloisonné_, Dresden, Sèvres,
and silver, which make the table a picture. The jewelled goblets from
Carlsbad, the knives and forks with crystal handles, set in silver,
from Bohemia, and the endless succession of beautiful plates,--who
shall estimate the cost of all this?
As to the precedence of plates, it is meet that China, oldest of
nations, should suffice for the soup. The oysters have already been
served on shell-like Majolica. England, a maritime nation surrounded
by ocean, must furnish the plates for the fish. For the roast, too,
what plates so good as Doulton, real English, substantial _faïence_?
For the _Bouchers à la Reine_ and all the _entrées_ we must have
Sèvres again.
Japanese will do for the _filet aux champignons_, the venison, the
_pièces de resistance_, as well as English. Japanese plates are
strong. But here we are running into dinner; indeed, these two feasts
do run into each other.
One should not have a roast at ladies' lunch, unless it be a roast
pheasant.
Dresden china plates painted with fruits and flowers should be used
for the dessert. On these choice plates, with perforated edges marked
"A R" on the back, should lie the ices frozen as natural fruits. We
can scarcely tell the frozen banana or peach before us, from the
painted banana on our plate.
For the candied fruit, we must again have Sèvres. Then a gold dish
filled with rose-water must be passed. We dip a bit of the napkin in
it, for in this country we do have napkins with our luncheon, and wipe
our lips and fingers. This is called a _trempoir_.
The cordials at the end of the dinner must be served in cups of
Russian gold filagree supporting glass. There is an analogy between
the rival, luscious richness of the cordial and the cup.
The coffee-cups must be thin as egg-shells, of the most delicate
French or American china. We make most delicate china and porcelain
cups ourselves nowadays, at Newark, Trenton, and a dozen other places.
There is a vast deal of waste in offering so much wine at a ladies'
lunch. American women cannot drink much wine; the climate forbids it.
We have not been brought up on beer, or on anything more stimulating
than ice-water. Foreign physicians say that this is the cause of all
our woes, our dyspepsia, our nervous exhaustion, our rheumatism and
hysteria. I believe that climate and constitution decide these things
for us. We are not prone to over-eat ourselves, to drink too much
wine; and if the absence of these grosser tastes is visible in pale
cheeks and thin arms, is not that better than the other extreme?
All entertaining can go on perfectly well without wine, if people so
decide. It would be impossible, however, to make many poetical
quotations without an allusion to the "ruby," as Dick Swiveller called
it. Since Cleopatra dissolved the pearl, the wine-cup has held the
gems of human fancy.
_Champagne Cup_: One pint bottle of soda water, one quart dry
champagne, one wine-glass of brandy, a few fresh strawberries,
a peach quartered, sugar to taste; cracked ice.
_Another recipe_: One quart dry champagne, one pint bottle of
Rhine wine, fruit and ice as above; cracked ice. Mix in a
large pitcher.
_Claret Cup_: One bottle of claret, one pint bottle of soda
water, one wine-glass brandy, half a wine-glass of
lemon-juice, half a pound of lump sugar, a few slices of fresh
cucumber; mix in cracked ice.
_Mint Julep_: Fresh mint, a few drops of orange bitters and
Maraschino, a small glass of liqueur, brandy or whiskey, put
in a tumbler half full of broken ice; shake well, and serve
with fruit on top with straws.
_Another recipe for Mint Julep_: Half a glass of port wine, a
few drops of Maraschino, mint, sugar, a thin slice of lemon,
shake the cracked ice from glass to glass, add strawberry or
pineapple.
_Turkish Sherbets_: Extract by pressure or infusion the rich
juice and fine perfume of any of the odouriferous flowers or
fruits; mix them in any number or quantity to taste. When
these essences, extracts, or infusions are prepared they may
be immediately used by adding a proper proportion of sugar or
syrup; and water. Some acid fruits, such as lemon or
pomegranate, are used to raise the flavour, but not to
overpower the chief perfume. Fill the cup with cracked ice and
add what wine or spirit is preferred.
_Claret Cobbler_: One bottle wine, one bottle Apollinaris or
Seltzer, one lemon, half a pound of sugar; serve with ice.
_Champagne Cobbler_: One bottle of champagne, one half bottle
of white wine, much cracked ice, strawberries, peaches or
sliced oranges.
_Sherry Cobbler_: Full wine-glass of sherry, very little
brandy, sugar, sliced lemon, cracked ice. This is but one
tumblerful.
_Kümmel_: This liqueur is very good served with shaved ice in
small green claret-cups.
_Punch_: One bottle Arrack, one bottle brandy, two quart
bottles dry champagne, one tumblerful of orange curaçoa, one
pound of cracked sugar, half a dozen lemons sliced, half a
dozen oranges sliced. Fill the bowl with large lump of ice and
add one quart of water.
_Shandygaff_: London porter and ginger ale, half and half.