Chapter V: Introduction (1)

The following receipts are not a mere marrowless collection of shreds and patches, and cuttings and pastings, but a bonâ fide register of practical facts,--accumulated by a perseverance not to be subdued or evaporated by the igniferous terrors of a roasting fire in the dog-days,--in defiance of the odoriferous and calefacient repellents of roasting, boiling, frying, and broiling;--moreover, the author has submitted to a labour no preceding cookery-book-maker, perhaps, ever attempted to encounter,--having _eaten_ each receipt before he set it down in his book.

They have all been heartily welcomed by a sufficiently well-educated palate, and a rather fastidious stomach:--perhaps this certificate of the reception of the respective preparations, will partly apologize for the book containing a smaller number of them than preceding writers on this gratifying subject have transcribed--for the amusement of "every man's master," the STOMACH.[15-*]

Numerous as are the receipts in former books, they vary little from each other, except in the name given to them; the processes of cookery are very few: I have endeavoured to describe each, in so plain and circumstantial a manner, as I hope will be easily understood, even by the amateur, who is unacquainted with the practical part of culinary concerns.

OLD HOUSEKEEPERS may think I have been tediously minute on many points which may appear trifling: my predecessors seem to have considered the RUDIMENTS of COOKERY quite unworthy of attention. These little delicate distinctions constitute all the difference between a common and an elegant table, and are not trifles to the YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS who must learn them either from the communication of others or blunder on till their own slowly accumulating and dear-bought experience teaches them.

A wish to save time, trouble and money to inexperienced housekeepers and cooks, and to bring the enjoyments and indulgences of the opulent within reach of the middle ranks of society, were my motives for publishing this book. I could accomplish it only by supposing the reader (when he first opens it) to be as ignorant of cookery as I was, when I first thought of writing on the subject.

I have done my best to contribute to the comfort of my fellow-creatures: by a careful attention to the directions herein given, the most ignorant may easily learn to prepare food, not only in an agreeable and wholesome, but in an elegant and economical manner.

This task seems to have been left for me; and I have endeavoured to collect and communicate, in the clearest and most intelligible manner, the whole of the heretofore abstruse mysteries of the culinary art, which are herein, I hope, so plainly developed, that the most inexperienced student in the occult art of cookery, may work from my receipts with the utmost facility.

I was perfectly aware of the extreme difficulty of teaching those who are entirely unacquainted with the subject, and of explaining my ideas effectually, by mere receipts, to those who never shook hands with a stewpan.

In my anxiety to be readily understood, I have been under the necessity of occasionally repeating the same directions in different parts of the book; but I would rather be censured for repetition than for obscurity, and hope not to be accused of affectation, while my intention is perspicuity.

Our neighbours of France are so justly famous for their skill in the affairs of the kitchen, that the adage says, "As many Frenchmen as many cooks:" surrounded as they are by a profusion of the most delicious wines, and seducing _liqueurs_ offering every temptation to render drunkenness delightful, yet a tippling Frenchman is a "_rara avis_."

They know how so easily to keep life in sufficient repair by good eating, that they require little or no screwing up with liquid stimuli. This accounts for that "_toujours gai_," and happy equilibrium of the animal spirits which they enjoy with more regularity than any people: their elastic stomachs, unimpaired by spirituous liquors, digest vigorously the food they sagaciously prepare and render easily assimilable, by cooking it sufficiently,--wisely contriving to get half the work of the stomach done by fire and water, till

"The tender morsels on the palate melt,
And all the force of cookery is felt."

See Nos. 5 and 238, &c.

The cardinal virtues of cookery, "CLEANLINESS, FRUGALITY, NOURISHMENT, AND PALATABLENESS," preside over each preparation; for I have not presumed to insert a single composition, without previously obtaining the "_imprimatur_" of an enlightened and indefatigable "COMMITTEE OF TASTE," (composed of thorough-bred GRANDS GOURMANDS of the first magnitude,) whose cordial co-operation I cannot too highly praise; and here do I most gratefully record the unremitting zeal they manifested during their arduous progress of proving the respective recipes: they were so truly philosophically and disinterestedly regardless of the wear and tear of teeth and stomach, that their labour appeared a pleasure to them. Their laudable perseverance has enabled me to give the inexperienced amateur an unerring guide how to excite as much pleasure as possible on the palate, and occasion as little trouble as possible to the principal viscera, and has hardly been exceeded by those determined spirits who lately in the Polar expedition braved the other extreme of temperature, &c. in spite of whales, bears, icebergs, and starvation.

Every attention has been paid in directing the proportions of the following compositions; not merely to make them inviting to the appetite, but agreeable and useful to the stomach--nourishing without being inflammatory, and savoury without being surfeiting.

I have written for those who make nourishment the chief end of eating,[17-*] and do not desire to provoke appetite beyond the powers and necessities of nature; proceeding, however, on the purest epicurean principles of indulging the palate as far as it can be done without injury or offence to the stomach, and forbidding[18-*] nothing but what is absolutely unfriendly to health.

----"That which is not good, is not delicious
To a well-govern'd and wise appetite."--MILTON.

This is by no means so difficult a task as some gloomy philosophers (uninitiated in culinary science) have tried to make the world believe; who seem to have delighted in persuading you, that every thing that is nice must be noxious, and that every thing that is nasty is wholesome.

"How charming is divine philosophy?
Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns."--MILTON.

Worthy William Shakspeare declared he never found a philosopher who could endure the toothache patiently:--the Editor protests that he has not yet overtaken one who did not love a feast.

Those _cynical_ slaves who are so silly as to suppose it unbecoming a wise man to indulge in the common comforts of life, should be answered in the words of the French philosopher. "Hey--what, do you philosophers eat dainties?" said a gay Marquess. "Do you think," replied DESCARTES, "that God made good things only for fools?"

Every individual, who is not perfectly imbecile and void of understanding, is an _epicure_ in his own way. The epicures in boiling of potatoes are innumerable. The perfection of all enjoyment depends on the perfection of the faculties of the mind and body; therefore, the temperate man is the greatest epicure, and the only true voluptuary.

THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE have been highly appreciated and carefully cultivated in all countries and in all ages;[19-*] and in spite of all the stoics, every one will allow they are the first and the last we enjoy, and those we taste the oftenest,--above a thousand times in a year, every year of our lives!

THE STOMACH is the mainspring of our system. If it be not sufficiently wound up to warm the heart and support the circulation, the whole business of life will, in proportion, be ineffectively performed: we can neither _think_ with precision, _walk_ with vigour, _sit down_ with comfort, nor _sleep_ with tranquillity.

There would be no difficulty in proving that it influences (much more than people in general imagine) all our actions: the destiny of nations has often depended upon the more or less laborious digestion of a prime minister.[19-+] See a very curious anecdote in the memoirs of COUNT ZINZENDORFF in Dodsley's Annual Register for 1762. 3d edition, p. 32.

The philosopher Pythagoras seems to have been extremely nice in eating; among his absolute injunctions to his disciples, he commands them to "abstain from beans."

This ancient sage has been imitated by the learned who have discoursed on this subject since, who are liberal of their negative, and niggardly of their positive precepts--in the ratio, that it is easier to tell you not to do this, than to teach you how to do that.

Our great English moralist Dr. S. JOHNSON, his biographer Boswell tells us, "was a man of very nice discernment in the science of cookery," and talked of good eating with uncommon satisfaction. "Some people," said he, "have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat; for my part, I mind my belly very studiously and very carefully, and I look upon it that he who does not mind his belly, will hardly mind any thing else."

The Dr. might have said, _cannot_ mind any thing else. The energy of our BRAINS is sadly dependent on the behaviour of our BOWELS.[20-*] Those who say, 'Tis no matter what we eat or what we drink, may as well say, 'Tis no matter whether we eat, or whether we drink.

The following anecdotes I copy from Boswell's life of Johnson.

_Johnson._--"I could write a better book of cookery than has ever yet been written; it should be a book on philosophical principles. I would tell what is the best butcher's meat, the proper seasons of different vegetables, and then, how to roast, and boil, and to compound."

_Dilly._--"_Mrs. Glasse's cookery_, which is the best, was written by Dr. Hill."

_Johnson._--"Well, Sir--this shows how much better the subject of cookery[20-+] may be treated by a philosopher;[20-++] but you shall see what a book of cookery I shall make, and shall agree with Mr. Dilly for the copyright."

_Miss Seward._--"That would be Hercules with the distaff indeed!"

_Johnson._--"No, madam; women can spin very well, but they cannot make a good book of cookery." See vol. iii. p. 311.

Mr. B. adds, "I never knew a man who relished good eating more than he did: when at table, he was totally absorbed in the business of the moment: nor would he, unless in very high company, say one word, or even pay the least attention to what was said by others, until he had satisfied his appetite."

The peculiarities of his constitution were as great as those of his character: luxury and intemperance are relative terms, depending on other circumstances than mere quantity and quality. Nature gave him an excellent palate, and a craving appetite, and his intense application rendered large supplies of nourishment absolutely necessary to recruit his exhausted spirits.

The fact is, this great man had found out that animal and intellectual vigour,[21-*] are much more entirely dependent upon each other than is commonly understood; especially in those constitutions whose digestive and chylopoietic organs are capricious and easily put out of tune, or absorb the "_pabulum vitæ_" indolently and imperfectly: with such, it is only now and then that the "_sensorium commune_" vibrates with the full tone of accurately considerative, or creative energy. "His favourite dainties were, a leg of pork boiled till it dropped from the bone, a veal-pie, with plums and sugar, or the outside cut of a salt buttock of beef. With regard to _drink_, his liking was for the strongest, as it was not the _flavour_, but the _effect_ that he desired." Mr. Smale's Account of Dr. Johnson's Journey into Wales, 1816, p. 174.

Thus does the HEALTH always, and very often the LIFE of invalids, and those who have weak and infirm STOMACHS, depend upon the care and skill of the COOK. Our forefathers were so sensible of this, that in days of yore no man of consequence thought of making a day's journey without taking his "MAGISTER COQUORUM" with him.

The rarity of this talent in a high degree is so well understood, that besides very considerable pecuniary compensation, his majesty's first and second cooks[22-*] are now esquires by their office. We have every reason to suppose they were persons of equal dignity heretofore.

In Dr. Pegge's "Forme of Cury," 8vo. London, 1780, we read, that when Cardinal Otto, the Pope's legate, was at Oxford, A. D. 1248, his brother officiated as "MAGISTER COQUINÆ."

This important post has always been held as a situation of high trust and confidence; and the "MAGNUS COQUUS," Anglicè, the _Master Kitchener_, has, time immemorial, been an officer of considerable dignity in the palaces of princes.

The cook in PLAUTUS (_pseudol_) is called "_Hominum servatorem_," the preserver of mankind; and by MERCIER "_un médecin qui guérit radicalement deux maladies mortelles, la faim et la soif_."

The Norman conqueror WILLIAM bestowed several portions of land on these highly-favoured domestics, the "COQUORUM PRÆPOSITUS," and "COQUUS REGIUS;" a manor was bestowed on Robert Argyllon the "GRAND QUEUX," to be held by the following service. See that venerable record, the doomsday book.

"Robert Argyllon holdeth one carucate of land in Addington in the county of Surrey, by the service of making one mess in an earthen pot in the kitchen of our Lord the KING, on the day of his coronation, called _De la Groute_," i. e. a kind of plum-porridge, or water-gruel with plums in it. This dish is still served up at the royal table at coronations, by the Lord of the said manor of Addington.

At the coronation of King George IV., Court of Claims, July 12, 1820:

"The petition of the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, which was presented by Sir G. Nayler, claiming to perform the service of presenting a dish of _De la Groute_ to the King at the banquet, was considered by the Court, and decided to be allowed."

A good dinner is one of the greatest enjoyments of human life; and as the practice of cookery is attended with so many discouraging difficulties,[22-+] so many disgusting and disagreeable circumstances, and even dangers, we ought to have some regard for those who encounter them to procure us pleasure, and to reward their attention by rendering their situation every way as comfortable and agreeable as we can. He who preaches _integrity_ to those in the kitchen, (see "_Advice to Cooks_,") may be permitted to recommend _liberality_ to those in the parlour; they are indeed the sources of each other. Depend upon it, "True self-love and social are the same;" "Do as you would be done by:" give those you are obliged to trust every inducement to be honest, and no temptation to play tricks.

When you consider that a good servant eats[23-*] no more than a bad one, how much waste is occasioned by provisions being dressed in a slovenly and unskilful manner, and how much a good cook (to whom the conduct of the kitchen is confided) can save you by careful management, no housekeeper will hardly deem it an unwise speculation (it is certainly an amiable experiment), to invite the _honesty_ and _industry_ of domestics, by setting them an example of _liberality_--at least, show them, that "According to their pains will be their gains."

Avoid all approaches towards _familiarity_; which, to a proverb, is accompanied by _contempt_, and soon breaks the neck of obedience.

A lady gave us the following account of the progress of a favourite.

"The first year, she was an excellent servant; the second, a kind mistress; the third, an intolerable tyrant; at whose dismissal, every creature about my house rejoiced heartily."

However, servants are more likely to be praised into good conduct, than scolded out of bad. Always commend them when they do right. To cherish the desire of pleasing in them, you must show them that you are pleased:--

"Be to their faults a little blind,
And to their virtues very kind."

By such conduct, ordinary servants may be converted into good ones: few are so hardened, as not to feel gratified when they are kindly and liberally treated.

It is a good maxim to select servants not younger than THIRTY:--_before_ that age, however comfortable you may endeavour to make them, their want of experience, and the _hope_ of something still _better_, prevents their being satisfied with their present state; _after_, they have had the benefit of experience: if they are tolerably comfortable, they will endeavour to deserve the smiles of even a moderately kind master, for _fear_ they may change for the _worse_.

Life may indeed be very fairly divided into the seasons of HOPE and FEAR. In YOUTH, _we hope every thing may be right_: in AGE, _we fear every thing will be wrong_.

Do not discharge a good servant for a slight offence:--

"Bear and forbear, thus preached the stoic sages,
And in two words, include the sense of pages."--POPE.

HUMAN NATURE IS THE SAME IN ALL STATIONS: if you can convince your servants that you have a generous and considerate regard for their health and comfort, why should you imagine that they will be insensible to the good they receive?

Impose no commands but what are reasonable, nor reprove but with justice and temper: the best way to ensure which is, never to lecture them till at least one day after they have offended you.

If they have any particular hardship to endure in your service, let them see that you are concerned for the necessity of imposing it.

_If they are sick_, remember you are their patron as well as their master: remit their labour, and give them all the assistance of food, physic, and every comfort in your power. Tender assiduity about an invalid is half a cure; it is a balsam to the mind, which has a most powerful effect on the body, soothes the sharpest pains, and strengthens beyond the richest cordial.

Ye who think that to protect and encourage virtue is the best preventive from vice, reward your female servants liberally.

CHARITY SHOULD BEGIN AT HOME. Prevention is preferable to cure--but I have no objection to see your names ornamenting the lists of subscribers to foundling hospitals and female penitentiaries.[25-*] Gentle reader, for a definition of the word "_charity_," let me refer you to the 13th Chapter of St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians.

"To say nothing of the deleterious vapours and pestilential exhalations of the charcoal, which soon undermine the health of the heartiest, the glare of a scorching fire, and the smoke so baneful to the eyes and the complexion, are continual and inevitable dangers: and a cook must live in the midst of them, as a soldier on the field of battle surrounded by bullets, and bombs, and CONGREVE'S rockets; with this only difference, that for the first, every day is a fighting day, that her warfare is almost always without glory, and most praiseworthy achievements pass not only without reward, but frequently without thanks: for the most consummate cook is, alas! seldom noticed by the master, or heard of by the guests; who, while they are eagerly devouring his turtle, and drinking his wine, care very little who dressed the one, or sent the other."--_Almanach des Gourmands._

This observation applies especially to the SECOND COOK, or first kitchen maid, in large families, who have by far the hardest place in the house, and are worse paid, and truly verify the old adage, "the more work, the less wages." If there is any thing right, the cook has the praise--when there is any thing wrong, as surely the _kitchen maid_ has the blame. Be it known, then, to honest JOHN BULL, that this humble domestic is expected by the cook to take the entire management of all ROASTS, BOILS, FISH, and VEGETABLES; i. e. the principal part of an Englishman's dinner.

The master, who wishes to enjoy the rare luxury of a table regularly well served in the best style, must treat his cook as his friend--watch over her health[26-*] with the tenderest care, and especially be sure her taste does not suffer from her stomach being deranged by bilious attacks.

Besides understanding the management of the spit, the stewpan, and the rolling-pin, a COMPLETE COOK must know how to go to market, write legibly, and keep accounts accurately.

In well-regulated private families the most convenient custom seems to be, that the cook keep a house-book, containing an account of the miscellaneous articles she purchases; and the butcher's, baker's, butterman's, green-grocer's, fishmonger's, milkman's, and washing bills are brought in every Monday; these it is the duty of the cook to examine, before she presents them to her employer every Tuesday morning to be discharged.

The advantage of paying such bills weekly is incalculable: among others the constant check it affords against any excess beyond the sum allotted for defraying them, and the opportunity it gives of correcting increase of expense in one week by a prudent retrenchment in the next. "If you would live _even_ with the world, calculate your expenses at _half_ your income--if you would grow _rich_, at _one-third_."

It is an excellent plan to have a table of rules for regulating the ordinary expenses of the family, in order to check any innovation or excess which otherwise might be introduced unawares, and derange the proposed distribution of the annual revenue.

To understand the economy of household affairs is not only essential to a woman's proper and pleasant performance of the duties of a wife and a mother, but is indispensable to the comfort, respectability, and general welfare of all families, whatever be their circumstances.

The editor has employed some leisure hours in collecting practical hints for instructing inexperienced housekeepers in the useful

_Art of providing comfortably for a family;_

which is displayed so plainly and so particularly, that a young lady may learn the delectable arcana of domestic affairs, in as little time as is usually devoted to directing the position of her hands on a _piano-forte_, or of her feet in a _quadrille_--this will enable her to make the cage of matrimony as comfortable as the net of courtship was charming. For this purpose he has contrived a Housekeeper's Leger, a plain and easy plan of keeping accurate accounts of the expenses of housekeeping, which, with only one hour's attention in a week, will enable you to balance all such accounts with the utmost exactness; an acceptable acquisition to all who admit that order and economy are the basis of comfort and independence.

It is almost impossible for a cook in a large family, to attend to the business of the kitchen with any certainty of perfection, if employed in other household concerns. It is a service of such importance, and so difficult to perform even tolerably well, that it is sufficient to engross the entire attention of one person.

"If we take a review of the qualifications which are indispensable in that highly estimable domestic, a GOOD COOK, we shall find that very few deserve that name."[27-*]

"The majority of those who set up for professors of this art are of mean ability, selfish, and pilfering every thing they can; others are indolent and insolent. Those who really understand their business (which are by far the smallest number), are too often either ridiculously saucy, or insatiably thirsty; in a word, a good subject of this class is a _rara avis_ indeed!"

"God sends meat,"--who sends cooks?[28-*] the proverb has long saved us the trouble of guessing. Vide _Almanach des Gourmands_, p. 83.

Of what value then is not this book, which will render every person of common sense a good cook in as little time as it can be read through attentively!

If the masters and mistresses of families will sometimes condescend to make an amusement of this art, they will escape numberless disappointments, &c. which those who will not, must occasionally inevitably suffer, to the detriment of both their health and their fortune.

I did not presume to offer any observations of my own, till I had read all that I could find written on the subject, and submitted (with no small pains) to a patient and attentive consideration of every preceding work, relating to culinary concerns, that I could meet with.

These books vary very little from each other; except in the preface, they are

"Like in all else as one egg to another."

"_Ab uno, disce omnes_," cutting and pasting have been much oftener employed than the pen and ink: any one who has occasion to refer to two or three of them, will find the receipts almost always "_verbatim et literatim_;" equally unintelligible to those who are ignorant, and useless to those who are acquainted with the business of the kitchen.

I have perused not fewer than 250 of these volumes.

During the Herculean labour of my tedious progress through these books, few of which afford the germ of a single idea, I have often wished that the authors of them had been satisfied with giving us the results of their own practice and experience, instead of idly perpetuating the errors, prejudices, and plagiarisms of their predecessors; the strange, and unaccountable, and uselessly extravagant farragoes and heterogeneous compositions which fill their pages, are combinations no rational being would ever think of either dressing or eating; and without ascertaining the practicability of preparing the receipts, and their fitness for food when done, they should never have ventured to recommend them to others: the reader of them will often put the same _quære_, as _Jeremy_, in Congreve's comedy of "_Love for Love_," when _Valentine_ observes, "There's a page doubled down in Epictetus that is a feast for an emperor.--_Jer._ Was Epictetus a real cook, or did he only write receipts?"

Half of the modern cookery books are made up with pages cut out of obsolete works, such as the "Choice Manual of Secrets," the "True Gentlewoman's Delight," &c. of as much use, in this age of refinement, as the following curious passage from "The Accomplished Lady's Rich Closet of Rarities, or Ingenious Gentlewoman's Delightful Companion," 12mo. London, 1653, chapter 7, page 42; which I have inserted in a note,[29-*] to give the reader a notion of the barbarous manners of the 16th century, with the addition of the arts of the confectioner, the brewer, the baker, the distiller, the gardener, the clear-starcher, and the perfumer, and how to make pickles, puff paste, butter, blacking, &c. together with my _Lady Bountiful's_ sovereign remedy for an inward bruise, and other ever-failing nostrums,--_Dr. Killemquick's_ wonder-working essence, and fallible elixir, which cures all manner of incurable maladies directly minute, _Mrs. Notable's_ instructions how to make soft pomatum, that will soon make more hair grow upon thy head, "than Dobbin, thy thill-horse, hath upon his tail," and many others equally invaluable!!!--the proper appellation for which would be "a dangerous budget of vulgar errors," concluding with a bundle of extracts from "the Gardener's Calendar," and "the Publican's Daily Companion."

Thomas Carter, in the preface to his "City and Country Cook," London, 1738, says, "What I have published is almost the only book, one or two excepted, which of late years has come into the world, that has been the result of the author's own practice and experience; for though very few eminent practical cooks have ever cared to publish what they knew of the art, yet they have been prevailed on, for a small premium from a bookseller, to lend their names to performances in this art unworthy their owning."

Robert May, in the introduction to his "Accomplished Cook," 1665, says, "To all honest and well-intending persons of my profession, and others, this book cannot but be acceptable, as it plainly and profitably discovers the mystery of the whole art; for which, though I may be envied by some, that only value their private interests above posterity and the public good; yet (he adds), God and my own conscience would not permit me to bury these, my experiences, with my silver hairs in the grave."

Those high and mighty masters and mistresses of the alimentary art, who call themselves "_profess_" cooks, are said to be very jealous and mysterious beings; and that if, in a long life of laborious stove-work, they have found out a few useful secrets, they seldom impart to the public the fruits of their experience; but sooner than divulge their discoveries for the benefit and comfort of their fellow-creatures, these silly, selfish beings will rather run the risk of a reprimand from their employers, and will sooner spoil a good dinner, than suffer their fellow-servants to see how they dress it!!!

The silly selfishness of short-sighted mortals, is never more extremely absurd than in their unprofitable parsimony of what is of no use to them, but would be of actual value to others, who, in return, would willingly repay them tenfold. However, I hope I may be permitted to quote, in defence of these culinary professors, a couple of lines of a favourite old song:

"If you search the world round, each profession, you'll find,
Hath some snug little secrets, which the Mystery[30-*] they call."

MY RECEIPTS are the results of experiments carefully made, and accurately and circumstantially related;

The TIME requisite for dressing being stated;

The QUANTITIES of the various articles contained in each composition being carefully set down in NUMBER, WEIGHT, and MEASURE.

The WEIGHTS are _avoirdupois_; the MEASURE, _Lyne's_ graduated glass, i. e. a wine-pint divided into sixteen ounces, and the ounce into eight drachms. By a _wine-glass_ is to be understood two ounces liquid measure; by a large or _table-spoonful_, half an ounce; by a small or _tea-spoonful_, a drachm, or half a quarter of an ounce, i. e. nearly equal to two drachms avoirdupois.

At some glass warehouses, you may get measures divided into tea and table-spoons. No cook should be without one, who wishes to be regular in her business.

This precision has never before been attempted in cookery books, but I found it indispensable from the impossibility of _guessing_ the quantities intended by such obscure expressions as have been usually employed for this purpose in former works:--

For instance: a bit of this--a handful of that--a pinch of t'other--do 'em over with an egg--and a sprinkle of salt--a dust of flour--a shake of pepper--a squeeze of lemon,--or a dash of vinegar, &c. are the constant phrases. Season it to your palate, (meaning the cook's,) is another form of speech: now, if she has any, (it is very unlikely that it is in unison with that of her employers,) by continually sipping _piquante_ relishes, it becomes blunted and insensible, and loses the faculty of appreciating delicate flavours, so that every thing is done at random.

These culinary technicals are so very differently understood by the learned who write them, and the unlearned who read them, and their "_rule of thumb_" is so extremely indefinite, that if the same dish be dressed by different persons, it will generally be so different, that nobody would imagine they had worked from the same directions, which will assist a person who has not served a regular apprenticeship in the kitchen, no more than reading "Robinson Crusoe" would enable a sailor to steer safely from England to India.[32-*]

It is astonishing how cheap _cookery books_ are held by practical cooks: when I applied to an experienced artist to recommend me some books that would give me a notion of the rudiments of cookery, he replied, with a smile, "You may read _Don Quixote_, or _Peregrine Pickle_, they are both very good books."

Careless expressions in cookery are the more surprising, as the confectioner is regularly attentive, in the description of his preparations, to give the exact quantities, though his business, compared to cookery, is as unimportant as the ornamental is inferior to the useful.

The maker of blanc-mange, custards, &c. and the endless and useless collection of puerile playthings for the palate (of first and second childhood, for the vigour of manhood seeketh not to be sucking sugar, or sipping turtle), is scrupulously exact, even to a grain, in his ingredients; while cooks are unintelligibly indefinite, although they are intrusted with the administration of our FOOD, upon the proper quality and preparation of which, all our powers of body and mind depend; their energy being invariably in the ratio of the performance of the restorative process, i. e. the quantity, quality, and perfect digestion of what we eat and drink.

Unless _the stomach_ be in good humour, every part of the machinery of _life_ must vibrate with languor: can we then be too attentive to its adjustment?!!

CULINARY CURIOSITIES.

The following specimen of the unaccountably whimsical harlequinade
of foreign kitchens is from "La Chapelle" Nouveau Cuisinier, Paris,
1748.

"A turkey," in the shape of "_football_," or "_a hedge-hog_." A
"shoulder of mutton," in the shape of a "_bee-hive_."--"Entrée of
pigeons," in the form of a "_spider_," or _sun_-fashion, or "in the
form of a _frog_," or, in "the form of the _moon_."--Or, "to make
a pig taste like a wild boar;" take _a living pig_, and _let him_
swallow the following drink, viz. boil together in vinegar and
water, some rosemary, thyme, sweet basil, bay leaves, and sage;
when you have _let him_ swallow this, _immediately whip him to
death_, and roast him forthwith. How "to still a cocke for a weak
bodie that is consumed,--take a red cocke that is not too olde, and
beat him to death."--See THE BOOKE OF COOKRYE, very necessary for
all such as delight therein. Gathered by A. W., 1591, p. 12. How to
ROAST _a pound of_ BUTTER, curiously and well; and to _farce_ (the
culinary technical for _to stuff_) a boiled leg of lamb with red
herrings and garlic; with many other receipts of as high a relish,
and of as easy digestion as the _devil's venison_, i. e. a roasted
tiger stuffed with tenpenny nails, or the "_Bonne Bouche_," the
rareskin Rowskimowmowsky offered to Baron Munchausen, "a fricassee
of pistols, with gunpowder and alcohol sauce."--See the _Adventures
of Baron Munchausen_, 12mo. 1792, p. 200; and _the horrible but
authentic account of_ ARDESOIF, in MOUBRAY'S _Treatise on Poultry_,
8vo. 1816, p. 18.

But the most extraordinary of all the culinary receipts that have
been under my eye, is the following diabolically cruel directions
of Mizald, "_how to roast and eat a goose alive_." "Take a GOOSE or
a DUCK, or some such _lively creature_, (but a goose is best of all
for this purpose,) pull off all her feathers, only the head and
neck must be spared: then make a fire round about her, not too
close to her, that the smoke do not choke her, and that the fire
may not burn her too soon; nor too far off, that she may not escape
free: within the circle of the fire let there be set small cups and
pots full of water, wherein salt and honey are mingled: and let
there be set also chargers full of sodden apples, cut into small
pieces in the dish. The goose must be all larded, and basted over
with butter, to make her the more fit to be eaten, and may roast
the better: put then fire about her, but do not make too much
haste, when as you see her begin to roast; for by walking about,
and flying here and there, being cooped in by the fire that stops
her way out, the unwearied goose is kept in; she will fall to drink
the water to quench her thirst and cool her heart, and all her
body, and the apple-sauce will make her dung, and cleanse and empty
her. And when she roasteth, and consumes inwardly, always wet her
head and heart with a wet sponge; and when you see her giddy with
running, and begin to stumble, her heart wants moisture, and she is
roasted enough. Take her up, set her before your guests, and she
will cry as you cut off any part from her, and will be almost eaten
up before she be dead; it is mighty pleasant to behold!!"--See
WECKER'S _Secrets of Nature_, in folio, London, 1660, p. 148.
309.[33-*]

"We suppose Mr. Mizald stole this receipt from the kitchen of his
infernal majesty; probably it might have been one of the dishes the
devil ordered when he invited Nero and Caligula to a feast."--_A.
C., Jun._

This is also related in BAPTISTA PORTA'S _Natural Magicke_, fol.
1658, p. 321. This very curious (but not scarce) book contains,
among other strange tricks and fancies of "the Olden Time,"
directions, "_how to_ ROAST _and_ BOIL _a fowl at the same time, so
that one-half shall be_ ROASTED _and the other_ BOILED;" and "_if
you have a lacke of cooks, how to persuade a goose to roast
himselfe_!!"--See a second act of the above tragedy in page 80 of
the Gentleman's Magazine for January, 1809.

Many articles were in vogue in the 14th century, which are now
obsolete. We add the following specimens of the CULINARY AFFAIRS OF
DAYS OF YORE.

_Sauce for a goose, A.D. 1381._

"Take a faire panne, and set hit under the goose whill she rostes;
and kepe clene the grese that droppes thereof, and put thereto a
godele (good deal) of Wyn, and a litel vinegur, and verjus, and
onyons mynced, or garlek; then take the gottes (gut) of the goose
and slitte hom, and scrape hom clene in water and salt, and so wash
hom, and hack hom small, then do all this togedur in a piffenet
(pipkin), and do thereto raisinges of corance, and pouder of pepur
and of ginger, and of canell and hole clowes and maces, and let hit
boyle and serve hit forthe."

"That unwieldy marine animal the PORPUS was dressed in a variety of
modes, salted, roasted, stewed, &c. Our ancestors were not singular
in their partiality to it; I find, from an ingenious friend of
mine, that it is even now, A. D. 1790, sold in the markets of most
towns in Portugal; the flesh of it is intolerably hard and
rancid."--WARNER'S _Antiq. Cul._ 4to. p. 15.

"The SWAN[33-+] was also a dish of state, and in high fashion when
the elegance of the feast was estimated by the magnitude of the
articles of which it was composed; the number consumed at the Earl
of Northumberland's table, A. D. 1512, amounted to
twenty."--_Northumberland Household-book_, p. 108.

"The CRANE was a darling dainty in _William the Conqueror's_ time,
and so partial was that monarch to it, that when his prime
favourite, William Fitz-Osborne, the steward of the household,
served him with a crane scarcely half roasted, the king was so
highly exasperated, that he lifted up his fist, and would have
strucken him, had not _Eudo_ (appointed _Dapifer_ immediately
after) warded off the blow."--WARNER'S _Antiq. Cul._ p. 12.

SEALS, CURLEWS, HERONS, BITTERNS, and the PEACOCK, that noble bird,
"the food of lovers and the meat of lords," were also at this time
in high fashion, when the baronial entertainments were
characterized by a grandeur and pompous ceremonial, approaching
nearly to the magnificence of royalty; there was scarcely any royal
or noble feast without PECOKKES, which were stuffed with spices and
sweet herbs, roasted and served up whole, and covered after
dressing with the skin and feathers; the beak and comb gilt, and
the tail spread, and some, instead of the feathers, covered it with
leaf gold; it was a common dish on grand occasions, and continued
to adorn the English table till the beginning of the seventeenth
century.

In Massinger's play of "The City Madam," Holdfast, exclaiming
against city luxury, says, "three fat wethers bruised, to make
sauce for a single peacock."

This bird is one of those luxuries which were often sought, because
they were seldom found: its scarcity and external appearance are
its only recommendation; the meat of it is tough and tasteless.

Another favourite dish at the tables of our forefathers, was a PIE
of stupendous magnitude, out of which, on its being opened, a flock
of living birds flew forth, to the no small surprise and amusement
of the guests.

"Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie;
When the pie was open'd, the birds began to sing--
Oh! what a dainty dish--'t is fit for any king."

This was a common joke at an old English feast. These _animated_
pies were often introduced "to set on," as Hamlet says, "a quantity
of barren spectators to laugh;" there is an instance of a dwarf
undergoing such an _incrustation_. About the year 1630, king
Charles and his queen were entertained by the duke and dutchess of
Buckingham, at Burleigh on the Hill, on which occasion JEFFERY
HUDSON, _the dwarf_, was served up in a cold pie.--See WALPOLE'S
_Anecdotes of Painting_, vol. ii. p. 14.

The BARON OF BEEF was another favourite and substantial support of
old English hospitality.

Among the most polished nations of the 15th and 16th centuries, the
_powdered_ (salted) _horse_, seems to have been a dish in some
esteem: _Grimalkin_ herself could not escape the undistinguishing
fury of the cook. Don Anthony of Guevera, the chronicler to Charles
V., gives the following account of a feast at which he was present.
"I will tell you no lye, I sawe such kindes of meates eaten, as are
wont to be sene, but not eaten--_as a_ HORSE _roasted_--a CAT _in
gely_--LYZARDS in hot brothe, FROGGES fried," &c.

While we are thus considering the curious dishes of olden times, we
will cursorily mention the _singular diet_ of two or three nations
of antiquity, noticed by _Herodotus_, lib. iv. "The _Androphagi_
(the cannibals of the ancient world) greedily devoured the
carcasses of their fellow-creatures; while the inoffensive _Cabri_
(a Scythian tribe) found both food and drink in the agreeable nut
of the Pontic tree. The _Lotophagi_ lived entirely on the fruit of
the _Lotus tree_. The savage _Troglodyte_ esteemed a _living
serpent_ the most delicate of all morsels; while the capricious
palate of the _Zyguntini_ preferred the _ape_ to every
thing."--Vide WARNER'S _Antiq. Cul._ p. 135.

"The Romans, in the luxurious period of their empire, took five
meals a day; a breakfast (_jentaculum_;) a dinner, which was a
light meal without any formal preparation (_prandium_); a kind of
_tea_, as we should call it, between dinner and supper (_merenda_);
a supper (_cæna_), which was their great meal, and commonly
consisted of two courses; the first of meats, the second, what we
call a dessert; and a posset, or something delicious after supper
(_commissatio_)."--ADAM'S _Rom. Antiq._ 2d edition, 8vo. 1792, p.
434 and 447.

"The Romans usually began their entertainments with eggs, and ended
with fruits; hence, AB OVO USQUE AD MALA, from the beginning to the
end of supper, _Horat. Sat._ i. 3. 6; _Cic. Fam._ ix. 20.

"The dishes (_edulia_) held in the highest estimation by the Romans,
are enumerated, _Gell._ vii. 16, _Macrob. Sat._ ii. 9, _Martial._ v.
79, ix. 48, xi. 53, &c., a peacock (PAVO), _Horat. Sat._ ii. 2. 23,
_Juvenal._ i. 143, first used by Hortensius, the orator, at a
supper, which he gave when admitted into the college of priests,
(_aditiali cænd sacerdotii_,) Plin. x. 20, s. 23; a pheasant,
(PHASIANA, _ex_ Phasi. _Colchidis fluvio_,) Martial. iii. 58, xiii.
72, Senec. ad Helv. 9, Petron. 79, Manil. v. 372; a bird called
_Attagen_ vel-_ena_, from Ionia or Phrygia, _Horat. Epod._ ii. 54,
_Martial._ xiii. iii. 61, a guinea-hen, (_avis Afra_, Horat. ib.
_Gallina Numidica_ vel _Africana_, Juvenal, xi. 142, Martial, xiii.
73); a Melian crane; an Ambracian kid; nightingales, _lusciniæ_;
thrushes, _turdi_; ducks, geese, &c. TOMACULUM, (~a temnô~,) _vel_
ISICIUM, (ab _inseco_;) sausages or puddings, _Juvenal._ x. 355.
_Martial._ 42. 9, _Petron._ 31."--Vide _ibid._ p. 447.

That the English reader may be enabled to form some idea of the
heterogeneous messes with which the Roman palate was delighted, I
introduce the following receipt from _Apicius_.

"THICK SAUCE FOR A BOILED CHICKEN.--Put the following ingredients
into a mortar: aniseed, dried mint, and lazar-root (similar to
assafoetida), cover them with vinegar; add dates; pour in
liquamen, oil, and a small quantity of mustard seeds; reduce all to
a proper thickness with port wine warmed; and then pour this same
over your chicken, which should previously be boiled in anise-seed
water."

_Liquamen_ and _Garum_ were synonymous terms for the same thing;
the former adopted in the room of the latter, about the age of
_Aurelian_. It was a liquid, and thus prepared: the _guts_ of large
fish, and a variety of small fish, were put into a vessel and well
salted, and exposed to the sun till they became putrid. A liquor
was produced in a short time, which being strained off, was the
_liquamen_.--Vide LISTER _in Apicium_, p. 16, notes.

_Essence of anchovy_, as it is usually made for sale, when it has
been opened about ten days, is not much unlike the Roman
_liquamen_. See No. 433. Some suppose it was the same thing as the
Russian _Caviar_, which is prepared from the roe of the sturgeon.

The BLACK BROTH of _Lacedæmon_ will long continue to excite the
wonder of the philosopher, and the disgust of the epicure. What the
ingredients of this sable composition were, we cannot exactly
ascertain. _Jul. Pollux_ says, the Lacedæmonian black broth was
_blood_, thickened in a certain way: Dr. LISTER (_in Apicium_)
supposes it to have been _hog's blood_; if so, this celebrated
Spartan dish bore no very distant resemblance to the
_black-puddings_ of our days. It could not be a very _alluring_
mess, since a citizen of _Sybaris_ having tasted it, declared it
was no longer a matter of astonishment with him, why the _Spartans_
were so fearless of death, since any one in his senses would much
rather die, than exist on such execrable food.--Vide _Athenæum_,
lib. iv. c. 3. When Dionysius the tyrant had tasted the _black
broth_, he exclaimed against it as miserable stuff; the cook
replied--"It was no wonder, for the sauce was wanting." "What
sauce?" says Dionysius. The answer was,--"_Labour and exercise,
hunger and thirst, these are the sauces we Lacedæmonians use_," and
they make the coarsest fare agreeable.--CICERO, 3 Tuscul.

FOOTNOTES:

[15-*] "The STOMACH is the grand organ of the human system, upon the state of which all the powers and feelings of the individual depend."--_See_ HUNTER'S _Culina_, p. 13.

"The faculty the stomach has of communicating the impressions made by the various substances that are put into it, is such, that it seems more like a nervous expansion of the brain, than a mere receptacle for food."--Dr. WATERHOUSE'S _Lecture on Health_, p. 4.

[17-*] I wish most heartily that the restorative process was performed by us poor mortals in as easy and simple a manner as it is in "_the cooking animals in the moon_," who "lose no time at their meals; but open their left side, and place the whole quantity at once in their stomachs, then shut it, till the same day in the next month, for they never indulge themselves with food more than twelve times in a year."--_See_ BARON MUNCHAUSEN'S _Travels_, p. 188.

Pleasing the palate is the main end in most books of cookery, but _it is my aim to blend the toothsome with the wholesome_; but, after all, however the hale gourmand may at first differ from me in opinion, the latter is the chief concern; since if he be even so entirely devoted to the pleasure of eating as to think of no other, still the care of his health becomes part of that; if he is sick he cannot relish his food.

"The term _gourmand_, or EPICURE, has been strangely perverted; it has been conceived synonymous with a glutton, '_né pour la digestion_,' who will eat as long as he can sit, and drink longer than he can stand, nor leave his cup while he can lift it; or like the great eater of Kent whom FULLER places among his worthies, and tells us that he did eat with ease _thirty dozens of pigeons_ at one meal; at another, _fourscore rabbits_ and _eighteen yards of black pudding_, London measure!--or a fastidious appetite, only to be excited by fantastic dainties, as the brains of _peacocks_ or _parrots_, the tongues of _thrushes_ or _nightingales_, or the teats of a lactiferous _sow_.

"In the acceptation which I give to the term EPICURE, it means only the person who has good sense and good taste enough to wish to have his food cooked according to scientific principles; that is to say, so prepared that the palate be not offended--that it be rendered easy of solution in the stomach, and ultimately contribute to health; exciting him as an animal to the vigorous enjoyment of those recreations and duties, physical and intellectual, which constitute the happiness and dignity of his nature." For this illustration I am indebted to my scientific friend _Apicius Cælius, Jun._, with whose erudite observations several pages of this work are enriched, to which I have affixed the signature _A. C., Jun._

[18-*] "Although AIR is more immediately necessary to life than FOOD, the knowledge of the latter seems of more importance; it admits certainly of great variety, and a choice is more frequently in our power. A very spare and simple diet has commonly been recommended as most conducive to health; but it would be more beneficial to mankind if we could show them that a pleasant and varied diet was equally consistent with health, as the very strict regimen of Arnard, or the miller of Essex. These, and other abstemious people, who, having experienced the greatest extremities of bad health, were driven to temperance as their last resource, may run out in praises of a simple diet; but the probability is, that nothing but the dread of former sufferings could have given them the resolution to persevere in so strict a course of abstinence, which persons who are in health and have no such apprehension could not be induced to undertake, or, if they did, would not long continue.

"In all cases, great allowance must be made for the weakness of human nature: the desires and appetites of mankind must, to a certain degree, be gratified, and the man who wishes to be most useful will imitate the indulgent parent, who, while he endeavours to promote the true interests of his children, allows them the full enjoyment of all those innocent pleasures which they take delight in. If it could be pointed out to mankind that some articles used as food were hurtful, while others were in their nature innocent, and that the latter were numerous, various, and pleasant, they might, perhaps, be induced to forego those which were hurtful, and confine themselves to those which were innocent."--_See_ Dr. STARK'S _Experiments on Diet_, pp. 89 and 90.

[19-*] See a curious account in COURS GASTRONOMIQUE, p. 145, and in Anacharsis' Travels, Robinson, 1796, vol. ii. p. 58, and _Obs._ and note under No. 493.

[19-+] See the 2d, 3d, and 4th pages of Sir WM. TEMPLE'S _Essay on the Cure of the Gout by Moxa_.

[20-*] "He that would have a _clear head_, must have a _clean stomach_."--Dr. CHEYNE _on Health_, 8vo. 1724, p. 34.

"It is sufficiently manifest how much uncomfortable feelings of the bowels affect the nervous system, and how immediately and completely the general disorder is relieved by an alvine evacuation."--p. 53.

"We cannot reasonably expect tranquillity of the nervous system, while there is disorder of the digestive organs. As we can perceive no permanent source of strength but from the digestion of our food, it becomes important on this account that we should attend to its quantity, quality, and the periods of taking it, with a view to ensure its proper digestion."--ABERNETHY'S _Sur. Obs._ 8vo. 1817, p. 65.

[20-+] "If science can really contribute to the happiness of mankind, it must be in this department; the real comfort of the majority of men in this country is sought for at their own fireside; how desirable does it then become to give every inducement to be at home, by directing all the means of philosophy to increase domestic happiness!"--SYLVESTER'S _Philosophy of Domestic Economy_, 4to. 1819, p. 17.

[20-++] The best books of cookery have been written by physicians.--Sir KENELME DIGBY--Sir THEODORE MAYERNE.--See the last quarter of page 304 of vol. x. of the _Phil. Trans._ for 1675.--Professor BRADLEY--Dr. HILL--Dr. LE COINTE--Dr. HUNTER, &c.

"To understand the THEORY OF COOKERY, we must attend to the action of heat upon the various constituents of alimentary substances as applied directly and indirectly through the medium of some fluid, in the former way as exemplified." In the processes of ROASTING and BOILING, the chief constituents of animal substances undergo the following changes--the _fibrine_ is corrugated, the _albumen_ coagulated, the _gelatine_ and _osmazome_ rendered more soluble in water, the _fat_ liquefied, and the _water_ evaporated.

"If the heat exceed a certain degree, the surface becomes first brown, and then scorched. In consequence of these changes, the muscular fibre becomes opaque, shorter, firmer, and drier; the tendons less opaque, softer, and gluey; the fat is either melted out, or rendered semi-transparent. Animal fluids become more transparent: the albumen is coagulated and separated, and they dissolve gelatine and osmazome.

"Lastly, and what is the most important change, and the immediate object of all cookery, the meat loses the vapid nauseous smell and taste peculiar to its raw state, and it becomes savoury and grateful.

"Heat applied through the intervention of boiling oil, or melted fat, as in FRYING, produces nearly the same changes; as the heat is sufficient to evaporate the water, and to induce a degree of scorching.