Chapter VI: Introduction (2)

"But when water is the medium through which heat is applied--as in BOILING, STEWING, and BAKING, the effects are somewhat different, as the heat never exceeds 212°, which is not sufficient to commence the process of browning or decomposition, and the soluble constituents are removed by being dissolved in the water, forming soup or broth; or, if the direct contact of the water be prevented, they are dissolved in the juices of the meat, and separate in the form of gravy."

Vide Supplement to _Encyclop. Brit. Edin._ vol. iv. p. 344, the article "FOOD," to which we refer our reader as the most scientific paper on the subject we have seen.

[21-*] "Health, beauty, strength, and spirits, and I might add all the faculties of the mind, depend upon the organs of the body; when these are in good order, the thinking part is most alert and active, the contrary when they are disturbed or diseased."--Dr. CADOGAN _on Nursing Children_, 8vo. 1757, p. 5.

[22-*] "We have some good families in England of the name of _Cook_ or _Coke_. I know not what they may think; but they may depend upon it, they all originally sprang from real and professional cooks; and they need not be ashamed of their extraction, any more than the _Parkers, Butlers, &c._"--Dr. PEGGE'S _Forme of Cury_, p. 162.

[22-+] It is said, there are SEVEN _chances against even the most simple dish being presented to the mouth in absolute perfection_; for instance, A LEG OF MUTTON.

1st.--The mutton must be _good_. 2d.--Must have been kept a _good_ time. 3d.--Must be roasted at a _good_ fire. 4th.--By a _good_ cook. 5th.--Who must be in _good_ temper. 6th.--With all this felicitous combination you must have _good_ luck; and, 7th.--_Good_ appetite.--The meat, and the mouths which are to eat it, must be ready for action at the same moment.

[23-*] To guard against "_la gourmandise_" of the second table, "provide each of your servants with a large pair of spectacles of the highest magnifying power, and never permit them to sit down to any meal without wearing them; they are as necessary, and as useful in a kitchen as pots and kettles: they will make a _lark_ look as large as a FOWL, a _goose_ as big as a SWAN, a leg of mutton as large as a hind quarter of beef; a twopenny loaf as large as a quartern;" and as philosophers assure you that pain even is only imaginary, we may justly believe the same of hunger; and if a servant who eats no more than one pound of food, imagines, by the aid of these glasses, that he has eaten three pounds, his hunger will be as fully satisfied--and the addition to your optician's account, will soon be overpaid by the subtraction from your butcher's and baker's.

[25-*] Much real reformation might be effected, and most grateful services obtained, if families which consist wholly of females, would take servants recommended from the MAGDALEN--PENITENTIARY--or GUARDIAN--who seek to be restored to virtuous society.

"_Female servants_ who pursue an honest course, have to travel, in their peculiar orbit, through a more powerfully resisting medium than perhaps any other class of people in civilized life; they should be treated with something like Christian kindness: for want of this, a fault which might at the time have been easily amended has become the source of interminable sorrow."

"By the clemency and benevolent interference of two mistresses known to the writer, two servants have become happy wives, who, had they been in some situations, would have been literally outcasts."

A most laudable SOCIETY for the ENCOURAGEMENT of FEMALE SERVANTS, by a gratuitous registry, and by rewards, was instituted in 1813; plans of which may be had _gratis_ at the Society's House, No. 10, Hatton Garden. The above is an extract from the REV. H. G. WATKINS'S _Hints to Heads of Families_, a work well deserving the attentive consideration of inexperienced housekeepers.

[26-*] The greatest care should be taken by the man of fashion, that his cook's health be preserved: one hundredth part of the attention usually bestowed on his dog, or his horse, will suffice to regulate her animal system.

"Cleanliness, and a proper ventilation to carry off smoke and steam, should be particularly attended to in the construction of a kitchen; the grand scene of action, the fire-place, should be placed where it may receive plenty of light; hitherto the contrary has prevailed, and the poor cook is continually basted with her own perspiration."--_A. C., Jun._

"The most experienced artists in cookery cannot be certain of their work without tasting: they must be incessantly tasting. The spoon of a good cook is continually passing from the stewpan to his tongue; nothing but frequent tasting his sauces, ragoûts, &c. can discover to him what progress they have made, or enable him to season a soup with any certainty of success; his palate, therefore, must be in the highest state of excitability, that the least fault may be perceived in an instant.

"But, alas! the constant empyreumatic fumes of the stoves, the necessity of frequent drinking, and often of bad beer, to moisten a parched throat; in short, every thing around him conspires quickly to vitiate the organs of taste; the palate becomes blunted; its quickness of feeling and delicacy, on which the sensibility of the organs of taste depends, grows daily more obtuse; and in a short time the gustatory nerve becomes quite unexcitable.

"IF YOU FIND YOUR COOK NEGLECT HIS BUSINESS--that his _ragoûts_ are too highly spiced or salted, and his cookery has too much of the '_haut goût_,' you may be sure that _his index of taste_ wants regulating; his palate has lost its sensibility, and it is high time to call in the assistance of the apothecary.

"'_Purger souvent_' is the grand maxim in all kitchens where _le Maître d'Hôtel_ has any regard for the reputation of his table. _Les Bons Hommes de Bouche_ submit to the operation without a murmur; to bind others, it should be made the first condition in hiring them. Those who refuse, prove they were not born to become masters of their art; and their indifference to fame will rank them, as they deserve, among those slaves who pass their lives in as much obscurity as their own stewpans."

To the preceding observations from the "_Almanach des Gourmands_," we may add, that the _Mouthician_ will have a still better chance of success, if he can prevail on his master to observe the same _régime_ which he orders for his cook; or, instead of endeavouring to awaken an idle appetite by reading the index to a cookery book, or an additional use of the pepper-box and salt-cellar, rather seek it from abstinence or exercise;--the philosophical _gourmand_ will consider that the edge of our appetite is generally keen, in proportion to the activity of our other habits; let him attentively peruse our "PEPTIC PRECEPTS," &c. which briefly explain the art of refreshing the gustatory nerves, and of invigorating the whole system. See in the following chapter on INVITATIONS TO DINNER--A recipe to make FORTY PERISTALTIC PERSUADERS.

[27-*] "She must be quick and strong of sight; her hearing most acute, that she may be sensible when the contents of her vessels bubble, although they be closely covered, and that she may be alarmed before the pot boils over; her auditory nerve ought to discriminate (when several saucepans are in operation at the same time) the simmering of one, the ebullition of another, and the full-toned wabbling of a third.

"It is imperiously requisite that her organ of smell be highly susceptible of the various effluvia, that her nose may distinguish the perfection of aromatic ingredients, and that in animal substances it shall evince a suspicious accuracy between tenderness and putrefaction; above all, her olfactories should be tremblingly alive to mustiness and empyreuma.

"It is from the exquisite sensibility of her palate, that we admire and judge of the cook; from the alliance between the olfactory and sapid organs, it will be seen that their perfection is indispensable."--_A. C., Jun._

[28-*] A facetious _gourmand_ suggests that the old story of "lighting a candle to the devil," probably arose from this adage--and was an offering presented to his infernal majesty by some epicure who was in want of a cook.

[29-*] "A gentlewoman being at table, abroad or at home, must observe to keep her body straight, and lean not by any means with her elbows, nor by ravenous gesture discover a voracious appetite: talk not when you have _meat_ in your _mouth_; and do not smack like _a pig_, nor venture to eat _spoonmeat_ so hot that the tears stand in your eyes, which is as unseemly as the _gentlewoman_ who pretended to have as little a _stomach_ as she had a _mouth_, and therefore would not swallow her _pease_ by spoonfuls; but took them one by one, and cut them in two before she would eat them. It is very uncomely to drink so large a _draught_ that your _breath_ is almost gone--and are forced to blow strongly to recover yourself--throwing down your _liquor_ as into a _funnel_ is an action fitter for a juggler than a _gentlewoman_: thus much for your observations in general; if I am defective as to particulars, your own _prudence, discretion, and curious observations_ will supply."

"In CARVING at your own _table_, distribute the best pieces first, and it will appear very comely and decent to use a _fork_; so touch no piece of _meat_ without it."

"_Mem._ The English are indebted to TOM CORYAT for introducing THE FORK, for which they called him _Furcifer_."--See his _Crudities_, vol. i. p. 106.--Edit. 1776, 8vo.

[30-*] "Almost all arts and sciences are more or less encumbered with vulgar errors and prejudices, which avarice and ignorance have unfortunately sufficient influence to preserve, by help (or hindrance) of mysterious, undefinable, and not seldom unintelligible, technical terms--Anglicè, nicknames--which, instead of enlightening the subject it is professedly pretended they were invented to illuminate, serve but to shroud it in almost impenetrable obscurity; and, in general, so extravagantly fond are the professors of an art of keeping up all the pomp, circumstance, and mystery of it, and of preserving the accumulated prejudices of ages past undiminished, that one might fairly suppose those who have had the courage and perseverance to overcome these obstacles, and penetrate the veil of science, were delighted with placing difficulties in the way of those who may attempt to follow them, on purpose to deter them from the pursuit, and that they cannot bear others should climb the hill of knowledge by a readier road than they themselves did: and such is _l'esprit de corps_, that as their predecessors supported themselves by serving it out _gradatim et stillatim_, and retailing with a sparing hand the information they so hardly obtained, they find it convenient to follow their example: and, willing to do as they have been done by, leave and bequeath the inheritance undiminished to those who may succeed them."--See p. 10 of Dr. KITCHINER _on Telescopes_, 12mo. 1825, printed for Whittaker, Ave Maria Lane.

[32-*] "In the present language of cookery, there has been a woful departure from the simplicity of our ancestors,--such a farrago of unappropriate and unmeaning terms, many corrupted from the French, others disguised from the Italian, some misapplied from the German, while many are a disgrace to the English. What can any person suppose to be the meaning of _a shoulder of lamb in epigram_, unless it were a poor dish, for a pennyless poet? _Aspect of fish_, would appear calculated for an astrologer; and _shoulder of mutton surprised_, designed for a sheep-stealer."--_A. C., Jun._

[33-*] See note to No. 59 how to plump the liver of a goose.

[33-+] "It is a curious illustration of the _de gustibus non eat disputandum_, that the ancients considered the _swan_ as a high delicacy, and abstained from the flesh of the _goose_ as impure and indigestible."--MOUBRAY _on Poultry_, p. 36.

INVITATIONS TO DINNER

In "the affairs of the mouth" the strictest punctuality is indispensable; the GASTRONOMER ought to be as accurate an observer of time, as the ASTRONOMER. The least delay produces fatal and irreparable misfortunes.

Almost all other ceremonies and civil duties may be put off for several hours without much inconvenience, and all may be postponed without absolute danger. A little delay may try the patience of those who are waiting; but the act itself will be equally perfect and equally valid. Procrastination sometimes is rather advantageous than prejudicial. It gives time for reflection, and may prevent our taking a step which would have made us miserable for life; the delay of a courier has prevented the conclusion of a convention, the signing of which might have occasioned the ruin of a nation.

If, from affairs the most important, we descend to our pleasures and amusements, we shall find new arguments in support of our assertions. The putting off of a rendezvous, or a ball, &c. will make them the more delightful. To _hope_ is to _enjoy_.

"Man never is, but always to be blest."

The anticipation of pleasure warms our imagination, and keeps those feelings alive, which possession too often extinguishes.

"'Tis _expectation_ only makes us blest;
_Enjoyment_ disappoints us at the best."

Dr. Johnson has most sagaciously said; "Such is the state of life, that none are happy, but by the anticipation of change: the change itself is nothing: when we have made it, the next wish is, immediately to change again."

However singular our assertions may have at first appeared to those who have not considered the subject, we hope by this time we have made converts of our readers, and convinced the "_Amateurs de Bonne Chère_" of the truth and importance of our remarks; and that they will remember, that DINNER is the only act of the day which cannot be put off with impunity, for even FIVE MINUTES.

In a well-regulated family, all the clocks and watches should agree; on this depends the fate of the dinner; what would be agreeable to the stomach, and restorative to the system, if served at FIVE o'clock, will be uneatable and innutritive and indigestible at A QUARTER PAST.

The dining-room should be furnished with a good-going clock; the space over the kitchen fire-place with another, vibrating in unison with the former, so placed, that the cook may keep one eye on the clock, and the other on the spit, &c. She will calculate to a minute the time required to roast a large capon or a little lark, and is equally attentive to the degree of heat of her stove, and the time her sauce remains on it, when to withdraw the bakings from the oven, the roast from the spit, and the stew from the pan.

With all our love of punctuality, the first consideration must still be, that the dinner "be well done, when 't is done."

It is a common fault with cooks who are anxious about time, to overdress every thing--the guests had better wait than the dinner--a little delay will improve their appetite; but if the dinner waits for the guests, it will be deteriorated every minute: the host who wishes to entertain his friends with food perfectly well dressed, while he most earnestly endeavours to impress on their minds the importance of being punctual to the appointed hour, will still allow his cook a quarter of an hour's grace.

The old adage that "the eye is often bigger than the belly," is often verified by the ridiculous vanity of those who wish to make an appearance above their fortune. Nothing can be more ruinous to real comfort than the too common custom of setting out a table, with a parade and a profusion, unsuited not only to the circumstances of the hosts, but to the number of the guests; or more fatal to true hospitality, than the multiplicity of dishes which luxury has made fashionable at the tables of the great, the wealthy, and the ostentatious, who are, often, neither great nor wealthy.

Such pompous preparation, instead of being a compliment to our guests, is nothing better than an indirect offence; it is a tacit insinuation, that it is absolutely necessary to provide such delicacies to bribe the depravity of their palates, when we desire the pleasure of their company; and that society now, must be purchased, at the same price SWIFT told POPE he was obliged to pay for it in Ireland. "I should hardly prevail to find one visiter, if I were not able to hire him with a bottle of wine." Vide Swift's letters to Pope, July 10th, 1732.

When twice as much cooking is undertaken as there are servants, or conveniences in the kitchen to do it properly, dishes must be dressed long before the dinner hour, and stand by spoiling--the poor cook loses her credit, and the poor guests get indigestions. Why prepare for eight or ten friends, more than sufficient for twenty or thirty visiters? "Enough is as good as a feast," and a prudent provider, who sensibly takes measure of the stomachic, instead of the SILLY ocular, appetite of his guests, may entertain his friends, three times as often, and ten times as well.

It is your SENSELESS SECOND COURSES--ridiculous variety of WINES, LIQUEURS, ICES,[38-*] DESSERTS, &c.--which are served up merely to feed the eye, or pamper palled appetite, that _overcome the stomach and paralyze digestion_, and seduce "children of a larger growth" to sacrifice the health and comfort of several days, for the baby-pleasure of tickling their tongue for a few minutes, with trifles and custards!!! &c. &c.

"INDIGESTION will sometimes overtake the most experienced epicure; when the gustatory nerves are in good humour, hunger and savoury viands will sometimes seduce the tongue of a '_grand gourmand_' to betray the interests of his stomach in spite of his brains.

"On such an unfortunate occasion, when the stomach sends forth eructant[38-+] signals of distress, the _peristaltic persuaders_ are as agreeable and effectual assistance as can be offered; and for delicate constitutions, and those that are impaired by age or intemperance, are a valuable panacea.

"They derive, and deserve this name, from the peculiar mildness of their operation. One or two very gently increase the action of the principal viscera, help them to do their work a little faster, and enable the stomach to serve with an ejectment whatever offends it, and move it into the bowels.

"Thus _indigestion_ is easily and speedily removed, _appetite_ restored, the mouths of the absorbing vessels being cleansed, _nutrition_ is facilitated, and _strength_ of body, and _energy_ of mind, are the happy results." See "PEPTIC PRECEPTS," from which we extract the following prescription--

To make FORTY PERISTALTIC PERSUADERS,

Take

Turkey rhubarb, finely pulverized, two drachms,
Syrup (by weight), one drachm,
Oil of carraway, ten drops (minims),
Made into pills, each of which will contain _three grains of rhubarb_.

"The DOSE OF THE PERSUADERS must be adapted to the constitutional peculiarity of the patient. When you wish to accelerate or augment the alvine exoneration, take two, three, or more, according to the effect you desire to produce. _Two pills_ will do as much for one person, as _five or six_ will for another: they will generally very regularly perform what you wish to-day, without interfering with what you hope will happen to-morrow; and are therefore as convenient an argument against constipation as any we are acquainted with.

"The most convenient opportunity to introduce them to the stomach, is early in the morning, when it is unoccupied, and has no particular business of digestion, &c. to attend to--i. e. at least half an hour before breakfast. Physic must never interrupt the stomach, when it is busy in digesting food.

"From two to four persuaders will generally produce one additional motion, within twelve hours. They may be taken at any time by the most delicate females, whose constitutions are so often distressed by constipation, and destroyed by the drastic purgatives they take to relieve it."

The cloth[39-*] should be laid in the parlour, and all the paraphernalia of the dinner-table completely arranged, at least half an hour before dinner-time.

The cook's labour will be lost, if the parlour-table be not ready for action, and the eaters ready for the eatables, which the least delay will irreparably injure: therefore, the GOURMAND will be punctual for the sake of gratifying his ruling passion; the INVALID, to avoid the danger of encountering an _indigestion_ from eating ill-dressed food; and the RATIONAL EPICURE, who happily attends the banquet with "_mens sana in corpore sano_," will keep the time not only for these strong reasons, but that he may not lose the advantage of being introduced to the other guests. He considers not only what is on the table, but who are around it: his principal inducement to leave his own fireside, is the charm of agreeable and instructive society, and the opportunity of making connexions, which may augment the interest and enjoyment of existence.

It is the most pleasing part of the duty of the master of the feast (especially when the guests are not very numerous), to take advantage of these moments to introduce them to one another, naming them individually in an audible voice, and adroitly laying hold of those ties of acquaintanceship or profession which may exist between them.

This will much augment the pleasures of the festive board, to which it is indeed as indispensable a prelude, as an overture is to an opera: and the host will thus acquire an additional claim to the gratitude of his guests. We urge this point more strongly, because, from want of attention to it, we have seen more than once persons whom many kindred ties would have drawn closely together, pass an entire day without opening their lips to each other, because they were mutually ignorant of each other's names, professions, and pursuits.

To put an end at once to all ceremony as to the order in which the guests are to sit, it will save much time and trouble, if the mistress of the mansion adopts the simple and elegant method of placing the name of each guest in the plate which is intended for him. This proceeding will be of course the result of consideration, and the host will place those together whom he thinks will harmonize best.

_Le Journal des Dames_ informs us, that in several fashionable houses in Paris, a new arrangement has been introduced in placing the company at a dinner-table.

"The ladies first take their places, leaving intervals for the gentlemen; after being seated, each is desired to call on a gentleman to sit beside her; and thus the lady of the house is relieved from all embarrassment of _étiquette_ as to rank and pretensions," &c.

But, without doubt, says the Journalist, this method has its inconveniences.

"It may happen that a bashful beauty dare not name the object of her secret wishes; and an acute observer may determine, from a single glance, that the _elected_ is not always the _chosen_."

If the party is large, the founders of the feast may sit in the middle of the table, instead of at each end, thus they will enjoy the pleasure of attending equally to all their friends; and being in some degree relieved from the occupation of carving, will have an opportunity of administering all those little attentions which contribute so much to the comfort of their guests.

If the GUESTS have any respect for their HOST, or prefer a well-dressed dinner to one that is spoiled, instead of coming half an hour after, they will take care to make their appearance a quarter of an hour before the time appointed.

The operations of the cook are governed by the clock; the moment the roasts, &c. are ready, they must go to the table, if they are to be eaten in perfection.

An invitation to come at FIVE o'clock seems to be generally understood to mean _six_; FIVE PRECISELY, _half past five_; and NOT LATER THAN FIVE (so that dinner may be on the table within five minutes after, allowing this for the variation of watches), FIVE O'CLOCK EXACTLY.

Be it known to all loyal subjects of the empire of good-living, that the COMMITTEE OF TASTE have unanimously resolved, that "an invitation to ETA. BETA. PI. must be in writing, and sent at least ten days before the banquet; and must be answered in writing (as soon as possible after it is received), within twenty-four hours at least," especially if it be not accepted: then, in addition to the usual complimentary expressions of thanks, &c. the best possible reasons must be assigned for the non-acceptance, as a particular pre-engagement, or severe indisposition, &c. Before the bearer of it delivers it, he should ascertain if the person it is directed to is at home; if he is not, when he will be; and if he is not in town, to bring the summons back.

Nothing can be more disobliging than a refusal which is not grounded on some very strong and unavoidable cause,--except not coming at the appointed hour;--"according to the laws of conviviality, a certificate from a sheriff's officer, a doctor, or an undertaker, are the only pleas which are admissible. The duties which invitation imposes do not fall only on the persons invited, but, like all other social duties, are reciprocal.

"As he who has accepted an invitation cannot disengage himself from it; the master of the feast cannot put off the entertainment on any pretence whatever. Urgent business, sickness, not even death itself, can dispense with the obligation which he is under of giving the entertainment for which he has sent out invitations, which have been accepted; for in the extreme cases of compulsory absence, or death, his place may be filled by his friend or executor."--_Vide le Manuel des Amphitryons_, 8vo. _Paris_, 1808; and _Cours Gastronomique_, 1809; to which the reader is referred for farther instructions.

It is the least punishment that a blundering, ill-bred booby can receive, who comes half an hour after the time he was bidden, to find the soup removed, and the fish cold: moreover, for such an offence, let him also be _mulcted_ in a pecuniary penalty, to be applied to the FUND FOR THE BENEFIT OF DECAYED COOKS. This is the least punishment that can be inflicted on one whose silence, or violation of an engagement, tends to paralyze an entertainment, and to draw his friend into useless expense.

BOILEAU, the French satirist, has a shrewd observation on this subject. "I have always been punctual at the hour of dinner," says the bard; "for I knew, that all those whom I kept waiting at that provoking interval, would employ those unpleasant moments to sum up all my faults.--BOILEAU is indeed a man of genius, a very honest man; but that dilatory and procrastinating way he has got into, would mar the virtues of an angel."

There are some who seldom keep an appointment: we can assure them they as seldom "'scape without whipping," and exciting those murmurs which inevitably proceed from the best-regulated stomachs, when they are empty, and impatient to be filled.

The most amiable animals when hungry become ill-tempered: our best friends employ the time they are kept waiting, in recollecting and repeating any real faults we have, and attributing to us a thousand imaginary ones.

Ill-bred beings, who indulge their own caprice, regardless how they wound the feelings of others, if they possess brilliant and useful talents, may occasionally be endured as convenient tools; but deceive themselves sadly, even though they possess all the wisdom, and all the wit in the world, if they fancy they can ever be esteemed as friends.

Wait for no one: as soon as the clock strikes, say grace, and begin the business of the day,

"And good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both."

MANNERS MAKE THE MAN.

Good manners have often made the fortune of many, who have had nothing else to recommend them:

Ill manners have as often marred the hope of those who have had every thing else to advance them.

These regulations may appear a little rigorous to those phlegmatic philosophers,

"Who, past all pleasures, damn the joys of sense,
With rev'rend dulness and grave impotence,"

and are incapable of comprehending the importance (especially when many are invited) of a truly hospitable entertainment: but genuine _connoisseurs_ in the science of good cheer will vote us thanks for our endeavours to initiate well-disposed _amateurs_.

CARVING.

Ceremony does not, in any thing, more commonly and completely triumph over comfort, than in the administration of "the honours of the table."

Those who serve out the loaves and fishes seldom seem to understand that he is the best carver who fills the plates of the greatest number of guests, in the least portion of time.

To effect this, fill the plates and send them round, instead of asking each individual if they choose soup, fish, &c. or what particular part they prefer; for, as they cannot all be choosers, you will thus escape making any invidious distinctions.

A dexterous CARVER[43-*] (especially if he be possessed with that determined enemy to ceremony and sauce, a keen appetite,) will help half a dozen people in half the time one of your would-be-thought polite folks wastes in making civil faces, &c. to a single guest.

It would save a great deal of time, &c. if POULTRY, especially large turkeys and geese, were sent to table ready cut up. (No. 530.*)

FISH that is fried should be previously divided into such portions as are fit to help at table. (See No. 145.)

A prudent carver will cut fair,[43-+] observe an equitable distribution of the dainties he is serving out, and regulate his helps, by the proportion which his dish bears to the number he has to divide it among, taking into this reckoning the _quantum_ of appetite the several guests are presumed to possess.

"Study their genius, caprices, _goût_--
They, in return, may haply study you:
Some wish a pinion, some prefer a leg,
Some for a merry-thought, or sidesbone beg,
The wings of fowls, then slices of the round
The trail of woodcock, of codfish the sound.
Let strict impartiality preside,
Nor freak, nor favour, nor affection guide."

_From the_ BANQUET.

The guest who wishes to ensure a hearty welcome, and frequent invitation to the board of hospitality, may calculate that the "easier he is pleased, the oftener he will be invited." Instead of unblushingly demanding of the fair hostess that the prime "_tit-bit_" of every dish be put on your plate, receive (if not with pleasure, or even content) with the liveliest expressions of thankfulness whatever is presented to you, and forget not to praise the cook, and the same shall be reckoned unto you even as the praise of the mistress.

The invalid or the epicure, when he dines out, to save trouble to his friends, may carry with him a portable MAGAZINE OF TASTE. (See No. 462.)

"If he does not like his fare, he may console himself with the reflection, that he need not expose his mouth to the like mortification again: mercy to the feelings of the mistress of the mansion will forbid his then appearing otherwise than absolutely delighted with it, notwithstanding it may be his extreme antipathy."

"If he likes it ever so little, he will find occasion to congratulate himself on the advantage his digestive organs will derive from his making a moderate dinner, and consolation from contemplating the double relish he is creating for the following meal, and anticipating the (to him) rare and delicious zest of (that best sauce) good appetite, and an unrestrained indulgence of his gormandizing fancies at the chop-house he frequents."

"Never intrust a _cook-teaser_ with the important office of CARVER, or place him within reach of _a sauce-boat_. These chop-house cormorants, who

'Critique your wine, and analyze your meat,
Yet on plain pudding deign at home to eat,'

are, generally, tremendously officious in serving out the loaves and fishes of other people; for, under the notion of appearing exquisitely amiable, and killingly agreeable to the guests, they are ever on the watch to distribute themselves the dainties which it is the peculiar part of the master and mistress to serve out, and is to them the most pleasant part of the business of the banquet: the pleasure of helping their friends is the gratification, which is their reward for the trouble they have had in preparing the feast. Such gentry are the terror of all good housewives: to obtain their favourite cut they will so unmercifully mangle your joints, that a dainty dog would hardly get a meal from them after; which, managed by the considerative hands of an old housekeeper, would furnish a decent dinner for a large family."--Vide "_Almanach des Gourmands_."

I once heard a gentle hint on this subject, given to a _blue-mould fancier_, who by looking too long at a Stilton cheese, was at last completely overcome, by his eye exciting his appetite, till it became quite ungovernable; and unconscious of every thing but the _mity_ object of his contemplation, he began to pick out, in no small portions, the primest parts his eye could select from the centre of the cheese.

The good-natured founder of the feast, highly amused at the ecstasies each morsel created in its passage over the palate of the enraptured _gourmand_, thus encouraged the perseverance of his guest--"Cut away, my dear sir, cut away, use no ceremony, I pray: I hope you will pick out all the best of my cheese. _Don't you think_ that THE RIND _and the_ ROTTEN _will do very well for my wife and family!!_" There is another set of terribly _free and easy_ folks, who are "fond of taking possession of the throne of domestic comfort," and then, with all the impudence imaginable, simper out to the ousted master of the family, "Dear me, I am afraid I have taken your place!"

_Half the trouble of_ WAITING AT TABLE _may be saved_ by giving each guest two plates, two knives and forks, two pieces of bread, a spoon, a wine-glass, and a tumbler, and placing the wines and sauces, and the MAGAZINE OF TASTE, (No. 462,) &c. as a _dormant_, in the centre of the table; one neighbour may then help another.

Dinner-tables are seldom sufficiently lighted, or attended. An active waiter will have enough to do to attend upon half a dozen active eaters. There should be about half as many candles as there are guests, and their flame be about eighteen inches above the table. Our foolish modern pompous candelabras seem intended to illuminate the ceiling, rather than to give light on the plates, &c.

Wax lights at dinner are much more elegant, and not so troublesome and so uncertain as lamps, nor so expensive; for to purchase a handsome lamp will cost you more than will furnish you with wax candles for several years.

FOOTNOTES:

[38-*] Swilling cold _soda water_ immediately after eating a hearty dinner, is another very unwholesome custom--take good ginger beer if you are thirsty, and don't like Sir John Barleycorn's cordial.

[38-+] _Strong peppermint or ginger lozenges_ are an excellent help for that flatulence with which some aged and dyspeptic people ate afflicted three or four hours after dinner.

[39-*] _Le Grand Sommelier_, or CHIEF BUTLER, in former times was expected to be especially accomplished in the art of folding table linen, so as to lay his napkins in different forms every day: these transformations are particularly described in ROSE'S Instructions for the Officers of the Mouth, 1682, p. 111, &c. "To pleat a napkin in the form of a cockle-shell double"--"in the form of hen and chickens"--"shape of two capons in a pye"--or "like a dog with a collar about his neck"--and many others equally whimsical.

[43-*] In days of yore "_Le Grand Ecuyer Tranchant_," or the MASTER CARVER, was the next officer of the mouth in rank to the "_Maître d'Hôtel_," and the technical terms of his art were as singular as any of those which ornament "Grose's Classical Slang Dictionary," or "The Gipsies' Gibberish:" the only one of these old phrases now in common use is, "cut up the TURKEY:"--we are no longer desired to "disfigure a PEACOCK"--"unbrace a DUCK"--"unlace a CONEY"--"tame a CRAB"--"tire an EGG"--and "spoil the HEN," &c.--See _Instructions for the Officers of the Mouth_, by ROSE, 1682.

[43-+] Those in the parlour should recollect the importance of setting a good example to their friends at the second table. If they cut _bread_, _meat_, _cheese_, &c. FAIRLY, it will go twice as far as if they hack and mangle it, as if they had not half so much consideration for those in the kitchen as a good sportsman has for his dogs.

FRIENDLY ADVICE TO COOKS,[46-*] AND OTHER SERVANTS

On your first coming into a family, lose no time in immediately getting into the good graces of your fellow-servants, that you may learn from them the customs of the kitchen, and the various rules and orders of the house.

Take care to be on good terms with the servant who waits at table; make use of him as your sentinel, to inform you how your work has pleased in the parlour: by his report you may be enabled in some measure to rectify any mistake; but request the favour of an early interview with your master or mistress: depend as little as possible on second-hand opinions. Judge of your employers from YOUR OWN observations, and THEIR behaviour to you, not from any idle reports from the other servants, who, if your master or mistress inadvertently drop a word in your praise, will immediately take alarm, and fearing your being more in favour than themselves, will seldom stick at trifles to prevent it, by pretending to take a prodigious liking to you, and poisoning your mind in such a manner as to destroy all your confidence, &c. in your employers; and if they do not immediately succeed in worrying you away, will take care you have no comfort while you stay: be most cautious of those who profess most: not only beware of believing such honey-tongued folks, but beware as much of betraying your suspicions of them, for that will set fire to the train at once, and of a doubtful friend make a determined enemy.

If you are a good cook, and strictly do your duty, you will soon become a favourite domestic; but never boast of the approbation of your employers; for, in proportion as they think you rise in their estimation, you will excite all the tricks, that envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness can suggest to your fellow-servants; every one of whom, if less sober, honest, or industrious, or less favoured than yourself, will be your enemy.

While we warn you against making others your enemies, take care that you do not yourself become your own and greatest enemy. "Favourites are never in greater danger of falling, than when in the greatest favour," which often begets a careless inattention to the commands of their employers, and insolent overbearance to their equals, a gradual neglect of duty, and a corresponding forfeiture of that regard which can only be preserved by the means which created it.

"Those arts by which at first you gain it,
You still must practise to maintain it."

If your employers are so pleased with your conduct as to treat you as a friend rather than a servant, do not let their kindness excite your self-conceit, so as to make you for a moment forget you are one. Condescension, even to a proverb, produces contempt in inconsiderate minds; and to such, the very means which benevolence takes to cherish attention to duty, becomes the cause of the evil it is intended to prevent.

To be an agreeable companion in the kitchen, without compromising your duty to your patrons in the parlour, requires no small portion of good sense and good nature: in a word, you must "do as you would be done by."

ACT FOR, AND SPEAK OF, EVERY BODY AS IF THEY WERE PRESENT.

We hope the culinary student who peruses these pages will be above adopting the common, mean, and ever unsuccessful way of "holding with the hare, and running with the hounds," of currying favour with fellow-servants by flattering them, and ridiculing the mistress when in the kitchen, and then, prancing into the parlour and purring about her, and making opportunities to display all the little faults you can find (_or invent_) that will tell well against those in the kitchen; assuring them, on your return, that they were _vraised_, for whatever you heard them _blamed_, and so excite them to run more extremely into any little error which you think will be most displeasing to their employers; watching an opportunity to pour your poisonous lies into their unsuspecting ears, when there is no third person to bear witness of your iniquity; making your victims believe, it is all out of your _sincere regard_ for them; assuring them (as Betty says in the man of the world,) "That indeed you are no busybody that loves fending nor proving, but hate all tittling and tattling, and gossiping and backbiting," &c. &c.

Depend upon it, if you hear your fellow-servants speak disrespectfully of a master or a mistress with whom they have lived some time, it is a sure sign that they have some sinister scheme against yourself; if they have not been well treated, why have they stayed?

"There is nothing more detestable than defamation. I have no scruple to rank a slanderer with a murderer or an assassin. Those who assault the reputation of their benefactors, and 'rob you of that which nought enriches them,' would destroy your life, if they could do it with equal impunity."

"If you hope to gain the respect and esteem of others, and the approbation of your own heart, be respectful and faithful to your superiors, obliging and good-natured to your fellow-servants, and charitable to all." You cannot be too careful to cultivate a meek and gentle disposition; you will find the benefit of it every day of your life: to promote peace and harmony around you, will not only render you a general favourite with your fellow-servants, but will make you happy in yourself.

"Let your _character_ be remarkable for industry and moderation; your _manners_ and deportment, for modesty and humility; your _dress_ distinguished for simplicity, frugality, and neatness. A dressy servant is a disgrace to a house, and renders her employers as ridiculous as she does herself. If you outshine your companions in finery, you will inevitably excite their envy, and make them your enemies."

"Do every thing at the proper time."
"Keep every thing in its proper place."
"Use every thing for its proper purpose."

The importance of these three rules must be evident, to all who will consider how much easier it is to return any thing when done with to its proper place, than it is to find it when mislaid; and it is as easy to put things in one place as in another.

Keep your kitchen and furniture as clean and neat as possible, which will then be an ornament to it, a comfort to your fellow-servants, and a credit to yourself. Moreover, good housewifery is the best recommendation to a good husband, and engages men to honourable attachment to you; she who is a tidy servant gives promise of being a careful wife.

_Giving away Victuals._

Giving away any thing without consent or privity of your master or mistress, is a liberty you must not take; charity and compassion for the wants of our fellow-creatures are very amiable virtues, but they are not to be indulged at the expense of your own honesty, and other people's property.

When you find that there is any thing to spare, and that it is in danger of being spoiled by being kept too long, it is very commendable in you to ask leave to dispose of it while it is fit for Christians to eat: if such permission is refused, the sin does not lie at your door. But you must on no account bestow the least morsel in contradiction to the will of those to whom it belongs.

"Never think any part of your business too trifling to be well done."

"Eagerly embrace every opportunity of learning any thing which may be useful to yourself, or of doing any thing which may benefit others."

Do not throw yourself out of a good place for a slight affront. "Come when you are called, and do what you are bid." Place yourself in your mistress's situation, and consider what you would expect from her, if she were in yours; and serve, reverence, and obey her accordingly.

Although there may be "more places than parish-churches," it is not very easy to find many more good ones.

"A rolling stone never gathers moss."
"Honesty is the best policy."
"A still tongue makes a wise head."

_Saucy answers_ are highly aggravating, and answer no good purpose.

Let your master or mistress scold ever so much, or be ever so unreasonable; as "a soft answer turneth away wrath," "so will SILENCE be _the best a servant can make_".

_One rude answer_, extorted perhaps by harsh words, or unmerited censure, has cost many a servant the loss of a good place, or the total forfeiture of a regard which had been growing for years.

"If your employers are hasty, and have scolded without reason, bear it patiently; they will soon see their error, and not be happy till they make you amends. Muttering on leaving the room, or slamming the door after you, is as bad as an impertinent reply; it is, in fact, showing that you would be impertinent if you dared."

"A faithful servant will not only never speak disrespectfully _to_ her employers, but will not hear disrespectful words said _of_ them."

Apply direct to your employers, and beg of them to explain to you, as fully as possible, how they like their victuals dressed, whether much or little done.[50-*]

Of what complexion they wish the ROASTS, of a gold colour, or well browned, and if they like them frothed?

Do they like SOUPS and SAUCES thick or thin, or white or brown, clean or full in the mouth? What accompaniments they are partial to?

What flavours they fancy? especially of SPICE and HERBS:

"Namque coquus domini debet habere gulam."--MARTIAL.

It is impossible that the most accomplished cook can please their palates, till she has learned their particular taste: this, it will hardly be expected, she can hit exactly the first time; however, the hints we have here given, and in the 7th and 8th chapters of the Rudiments of Cookery, will very much facilitate the ascertainment of this main chance of getting into their favour.

Be extremely cautious of seasoning high: leave it to the eaters to add the piquante condiments, according to their own palate and fancy: for this purpose, "THE MAGAZINE OF TASTE," or "_Sauce-box_," (No. 462,) will be found an invaluable acquisition; its contents will instantaneously produce any flavour that may be desired.

"De gustibus non est disputandum."

Tastes are as different as faces; and without a most attentive observation of the directions given by her employers, the most experienced cook will never be esteemed a profound palatician.

It will not go far to pacify the rage of a ravenous _gourmand_, who likes his chops broiled brown, (and done enough, so that they can appear at table decently, and not blush when they are cut,) to be told that some of the customers at Dolly's chop-house choose to have them only half-done, and that this is the best way of eating them.

We all think that is the best way which we relish best, and which agrees best with our stomach: in this, reason and fashion, all-powerful as they are on most occasions, yield to the imperative caprice of the palate.

_Chacun à son goût._

"THE IRISHMAN loves _Usquebaugh_, the SCOT loves ale call'd _Blue-cap_,
The WELCHMAN he loves _toasted cheese_, and makes his mouth like a
mouse-trap."

Our ITALIAN neighbours regale themselves with _macaroni_ and _parmesan_, and eat some things which we call _carrion_.--Vide RAY'S _Travels_, p. 362 and 406.

While the ENGLISHMAN boasts of his _roast beef, plum pudding, and porter_,

The FRENCHMAN feeds on his favourite _frog and soupe-maigre_,

The TARTAR feasts on _horse-flesh_,

The CHINAMAN on _dogs_,

The GREENLANDER preys on _garbage_ and _train oil_; and each "blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury." What at one time or place is considered as beautiful, fragrant, and savoury, at another is regarded as deformed and disgustful.[51-*]

"Ask _a toad_ what is beauty, the supremely beautiful, the ~TO KALON~! He will tell you it is _my wife_,--with two large eyes projecting out of her little head, a broad and flat neck, yellow belly, and dark brown back. With _a Guinea negro_, it is a greasy black skin, hollow eyes, and a flat nose. Put the question to the _devil_, and he will tell you that BEAUTY is a pair of horns, four claws, and a tail."--VOLTAIRE'S _Philos. Dict._ 8vo. p. 32.

"_Asafoetida_ was called by the ancients 'FOOD FOR THE GODS.' The Persians, Indians, and other Eastern people, now eat it in sauces, and call it by that name: the Germans call it _devil's dung_."--_Vide_ POMET _on Drugs_.

Garlic and clove, or allspice, combined in certain proportions, produce a flavour very similar to asafoetida.

The organ of taste is more rarely found in perfection, and is sooner spoiled by the operations of time, excessive use, &c. than either of our other senses.

There are as various degrees of sensibility of palate as there are of gradations of perfection in the eyes and ears of painters and musicians. After all the pains which the editor has taken to explain the harmony of subtle relishes, unless nature has given the organ of taste in a due degree, this book will, alas! no more make an OSBORNE,[52-*] than it can a REYNOLDS, or an ARNE, or a SHIELD.

Where nature has been most bountiful of this faculty, its sensibility is so easily blunted by a variety of unavoidable circumstances, that the tongue is very seldom in the highest condition for appreciating delicate flavours, or accurately estimating the relative force of the various materials the cook employs in the composition of an harmonious relish. Cooks express this refinement of combination by saying, a well-finished _ragoût_ "tastes of every thing, and tastes of nothing:" (this is "_kitchen gibberish_" for a sauce in which the component parts are well proportioned.)

However delicately sensitive nature may have formed the organs of taste, it is only during those few happy moments that they are perfectly awake, and in perfect good humour, (alas! how very seldom they are,) that the most accomplished and experienced cook has a chance of working with any degree of certainty without the auxiliary tests of the balance and the measure: by the help of these, when you are once right, it is your own fault if you are ever otherwise.

The sense of taste depends much on the health of the individual, and is hardly ever for a single hour in the same state: such is the extremely intimate sympathy between the stomach and the tongue, that in proportion as the former is empty, the latter is acute and sensitive. This is the cause that "good appetite is the best sauce," and that the dish we find savoury at _luncheon_, is insipid at _dinner_, and at _supper_ quite tasteless.

To taste any thing in perfection, the tongue must be moistened, or the substance applied to it contain moisture; the nervous papillæ which constitute this sense are roused to still more lively sensibility by salt, sugar, aromatics, &c.

If the palate becomes dull by repeated tasting, one of the best ways of refreshing it, is to masticate an apple, or to wash your mouth well with milk.

The incessant exercise of tasting, which a cook is obliged to submit to during the education of her tongue, frequently impairs the very faculty she is trying to improve. "'Tis true 'tis pity and pity 'tis," (says a _grand gourmand_) "'tis true, her too anxious perseverance to penetrate the mysteries of palatics may diminish the _tact_, exhaust the power, and destroy the _index_, without which all her labour is in vain."

Therefore, a sagacious cook, instead of idly and wantonly wasting the excitability of her palate, on the sensibility of which her reputation and fortune depends, when she has ascertained the relative strength of the flavour of the various ingredients she employs, will call in the balance and the measure to do the ordinary business, and endeavour to preserve her organ of taste with the utmost care, that it may be a faithful oracle to refer to on grand occasions, and new compositions.[53-*] Of these an ingenious cook may form as endless a variety, as a musician with his seven notes, or a painter with his colours: read chapters 7 and 8 of the Rudiments of Cookery.

Receive as the highest testimonies of your employers' regard whatever observations they may make on your work: such admonitions are the most _unequivocal proofs_ of their desire to make you thoroughly understand their taste, and their wish to retain you in their service, or they would not take the trouble to teach you.