ABOUT THE PUDDING
Now, good digestion wait on appetite
And health on both.—SHAKESPEARE.
“How do you make it?” asked a fair American of the proprietor.
The answer is not recorded, for in the manner of making chiefly lies
the speciality of the Old Cheshire Cheese. The hand of the proprietor
himself compounds the ingredients in a secret room, secure from the
gaze of even his most inquisitive attendants.
Yet when we look on the immense bowl from which sixty or seventy
people are to be fed, one cannot wonder at the lady’s desire to know
how such a Brobdingnagian dish could be so exquisitely prepared.
The proportions of the bowl are emblematic of the profusion with
which its contents are dispensed, and even Gargantua would find
himself vanquished in presence of the “Cheese” hospitality.
Old “William,” for many years the head-waiter, could only be seen in
his real glory on Pudding Days. He used to consider it his duty to
go round the tables insisting that the guests should have second or
third, ay, and with wonder be it spoken, fourth helpings.
“Any gentleman say pudden?” was his constant query; and his habit was
not broken when a crusty customer growled:
“No _gentleman_ says pudden.”
William either never saw the point or disdained to make reply.
The narrow limits of this volume are all too small for a complete
collection of the prose and verse written in praise of the pudding. A
few examples must serve.
In “Ye Lay of Ye Lost Minstrel,” printed in the _West London
Observer_ (April, 1890), are a number of verses in praise of the
“Cheese,” by Mr. William Henderson. We give the following extract
from his poem:—
If you’d dine at your ease
Try “Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.”
At this famous resort
In the Wine Office Court
Kickshaws, entrées or slops
You’ll not get, but the chops
Devil’d kidneys and steaks
He will say who partakes
Are all second to none—
To a turn they are done!
But the pudding!—oh my!
You look on with a sigh,
As it comes piping hot
From the cauldron or pot—
Oh the savour, the taste,
Of its lining, its paste!
How it wells! how it swells!
In its bosom there dwells
Food for gods, meat for men,
Who resort to Moore’s den.
A parody by the same author will appeal to the sentiment of those who
scorn a foreign yoke. It is inscribed to Beaufoy A. Moore, and was
published by Mr. J. H. Wadsworth, of Boston (U.S.A.):—
YE PUDDING’S REQUIEM
AIR: DEATH OF NELSON.
We sought “The Cheese,” with thirst and hunger prest,
And own we love the pudding day the best.
But no one quarrels with the chops cook’d here,
Or steaks, when wash’d down by Old English beer!
’Twas on Saint Andrew’s day,
Our way thro’ Fleet Street lay;
We sniff’d the pudding then!
We scorn’d all foreign fare,
True British food was there,
To “cut and come agen.”
Our landlord carved with manner grave,
Brave portions to each guest he gave,
Nor thought he of his booty,
Nor thought he of his booty.
Along the boards the signal ran,
“Charlie” expects that ev’ry man
Will pay and do his duty,
Will pay and do his duty.
And now the waiters pour
Prime “Burton” foaming o’er
“Old William” marks his prey!
No tips that waiter claimed,
Long be that waiter famed,
Who smiles and makes it pay!
Not dearly was that pudding bought,
For ev’ry hungry Briton sought
A “follow” from that beauty,
A “follow” from that beauty.
With plate on plate each waiter ran;
“Charlie” confessed that ev’ry man
That day had done his duty,
That day had done his duty.
At last the fatal sound,
Which spread dismay around,
The pudding’s off, the pudding’s off at last!
“The vict’ry’s on your side,
The day’s your own” Moore cried!
“I serve and have to fast!
However large that pudding be,
No scrap is ever left for me!
Content I do my duty!
Content I do my duty!
For to complain was ne’er my plan.”
Let all confess that Moore, good man,
Has ever done his duty,
Has ever done his duty!
1890. W.H.
The “Cheese” pudding has a far-extended sphere of influence. It
boasts a clientèle much more numerous than are the actual frequenters
of the ancient hostelry. Hundreds are sent out every year to
all parts of London, and, indeed, England. Some even have found
their way to the United States, imported direct from “The Cheese”
by enthusiastic Americans. The following extract from the _Court
Journal_ of April 4, 1891, describes the misadventures of one owing
to the operation of the McKinley Act: “The London lark pudding is
renowned in many lands. The travelled American speaks with rapture
of that lark pudding he partook of in Fleet Street. Mr. Burras, of
New York, requested that such a lark pudding should be sent out to
him from London, so that the stay-at-home ones might partake of
the British culinary luxury. The delicacy duly arrived; the guests
who were to aid Mr. Burras in eating it were duly invited—all was
ready, indeed, when an unexpected difficulty arose. The Customs House
authorities declined to give it up until the question as to what duty
‘lark pudding’ was liable to was settled. The McKinley Bill does not
mention lark pudding. It takes cognisance of canned goods and potted
meats, certainly; but larks in a pudding were unclassified, and
they said it did not come under the head of manufactured articles,
because it was food in a natural state. A week has elapsed while
the authorities have been debating the point, and in the meantime
the lark pudding is most probably turning sour, and Mr. Burras
and his friends dancing with indignation. More trouble will ensue
over this lark pudding, no doubt, than did upon the opening of the
four-and-twenty-blackbird pie of yore! It may cause the establishment
of Free Trade in the States.”
It is satisfactory to be able to state that the pudding eventually
passed the Customs House none the worse for its detention. The guests
were eloquent in its praise, and several of them have since visited
England merely to track the pudding to the place of its nativity.
[Illustration: THE BAR.]