Chapter XVII: Sweets to the Sweet 428 (13)

It is next to impossible, as has already been remarked, to give absolute directions for the compounding of a salad, so far as the precise amount of each component is concerned, some exacting more oil and salt, some more vinegar and pepper than others--the acidity of vinegar withal being an extremely variable quantity. Some are enhanced by mustard or red pepper, and with some the pounded yellow of the egg and mashed potato are improvements. The place of the salad, too, requires to be considered--whether it is to be an accompaniment of the roast or is designed as something more substantial for the luncheon or supper-table. In the latter case a macédoine of freshly cooked vegetables composed of beets, potatoes, turnips, carrots, parsnips, Lima beans, cauliflower, celery-turnip, etc., might be excellent, whereas it would hardly prove appropriate with roast game at the dinner. After all,--to revert to formulas,--the best recipe for a salad, perhaps, is the oft-quoted Spanish proverb which calls for a quartet to compose it--a spendthrift for oil, a miser for vinegar, a counsellor for salt, and a madman for mixing.

An excellent addition to nearly any form of salad is chopped onion, parsley, and celery. Some onion, however small a quantity, is invariably required, unless chives be used instead, or the bowl be rubbed with garlic, or bread rubbed with garlic be stirred in, for those who may prefer. Of the several modes of mixing salads, each of which is extolled by different authorities, some may be better than others, but all are good, as a philosopher has observed with respect to the merits of whiskey. And of these different methods, again a distinction needs to be made according to the material. Once more it may be said, _plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose_, and that alone through practice and intelligent study of the perspective of blending may the art of salad-making be mastered.

As simple and as good a so-termed French dressing as any for general use is to add to the minced onion the requisite quantity of salt, letting this stand for five or ten minutes; then, after adding to this the proper quantity of oil, vinegar, and pepper, stir thoroughly and pour over the salad. If English mustard is required, this should be previously incorporated with the oil. The result still depends upon the fine adjustment of the ingredients, the mixing, and the quality and character of the material.

Another method is to mix the salt and mustard, where mustard may be employed, with the oil, incorporating them by degrees, then adding the vinegar; pepper the salad material separately, and lastly pour on and mix in the dressing thoroughly. Separate peppering of the leaves, however, possesses no advantage; on the contrary, it is more trying to the eyes, and the pepper is much less evenly distributed.

A third method consists in placing the necessary salt and pepper in the salad-spoon, then pouring the vinegar into the spoon and stirring with the fork until the salt and pepper become well amalgamated with the vinegar. This is subsequently to be well mixed with the salad material, on which chopped onion and herbs have been placed, vigorously agitated, and afterwards, when the oil has been added, mixed a second time. By the jewelled white fingers of a pretty and well-gowned hostess who has a knack at salad-making this formula may be executed at table with highly artistic results.

There is finally the plan adopted by Chaptal, which consists in saturating and mixing the salad material with oil, seasoned with pepper and salt, before employing the vinegar. By this treatment the salad can never become too acid, for should the vinegar happen to be excessive, it slips over the oil to the bottom of the bowl. This means, while advantageous for tender cos or lettuce, is not so desirable for any material that may have a tendency to toughness, as the vinegar may not as readily penetrate and soften the leaves. Good oil, vinegar, and pepper and careful incorporating of the ingredients, with a judicious use of herbs, and the tact born of experience, count for everything in the preparation of salads.

Mayonnaise dressing of course belongs to certain greenmeat salads, as well as the so-called French dressing--the most easily prepared and wholesome of all. The mayonnaise is especially favoured by femininity, and the French dressing by the sterner sex; though for meat salads, as a general rule, the mayonnaise, mayonnaise _à la ravigotte_, or sauce _provençale_ is prescriptive.

Growing salad is an art of the kitchen-garden, in which soil, selection of varieties, watering, shading, blanching, and protection have their part. But with a little space and care, salads may be had by almost every one during the greater portion of the year. For late autumn and winter use, the different varieties of endive, corn-salad, and chicory are easily raised: corn-salad requiring no other trouble than two or three sowings in August, a little attention in watering and shading, and the gathering of the hardy green tufts beneath the snow. Late endive calls for a dry, well-protected root-house, while chicory needs to be taken up by the roots and forced in boxes in the cellar, due attention being paid to excluding the light. Of this excellent winter salad, the comparatively new variety "Witloof," largely grown in Belgium for the Paris market, is an improvement on the old "Barbe de Capucin." Of late years the useful and easily grown, broad-leaved Batavian endive has deteriorated, having become coarser-grained and often recalling the cabbage in flavour. Cos is the most difficult of all salads to grow under our tropical summer sun, and unless well grown--brittle, blanched, and free from bitterness--it is next to worthless. Many good varieties of lettuce have a tendency to run out, and these should be carefully watched by the gardener.

On the restaurant cards salads usually appear with their French appellations, which are sometimes confusing. In France, for instance, chicory is generally termed endive, and endive is termed chicory. Lettuce is naturally laitue, cos being known as romaine, broad-leaved Batavian endive as escarolle--the curled-leaved varieties of endive being familiar as chicorée frisée. Corn-salad is the mâche or doucette, chicory is the "Barbe de Capucin," though the variety "Witloof" passes current as endive. There is nothing mysterious, therefore, as some suppose, in French salads and French names of salads beyond the fact that in restaurants of the higher class special attention is paid to procure the best possible material from skilled market-gardeners, and the dressing is supposed to be performed by a competent practitioner who has the best of condiments at command.

"The field is never wholly void of cypress and tulip," saith a ghazel of Hafiz; "one goeth, but another yet appeareth in its place." It is much the same with the successive profusion of sallets. By way of variety, a salad of raw celery-root with a mayonnaise dressing, somewhat thinned, in which a generous amount of mustard has been blended, affords a pleasing distinction from celery in the usual form and the green material which constantly offers itself; as does also an occasional salad of the scarcer celery-turnip, beloved by Europeans. Sliced radishes, and young green onions from the garden, as an accompaniment to the first trout or shad, need no apology. The appetising but indigestible and flatulent German black radish is not to be recommended, although one may retain the most grateful recollections of the potato, cucumber, and herring salads of the Fatherland.

Spain has always borne a reputation for its salads in inverse ratio to that of its cookery; and if one is fond of pepper and peppers, green or red, as well as garlic, the Spanish salad, whether of tomato, cucumber, beans, potato, or lettuce, is to be commended. The Italian may be relied upon never to neglect garlic wherever any excuse for utilising it is presented; but the Spaniard, in addition, deems it a heresy if the live pepper does not sting, stimulate, and permeate.

For the highest expression of the potato-salad--and the cucumber-salad should be equally included--we must go to the Germans, masters of sausage-and cake-making and everything appertaining to "Compots." However one may regard the Pumpernickel and the Maitrank, the specialties just enumerated must challenge our respect and admiration. Potato-salad is particularly appropriate with beer; and it is, therefore, natural that the home of Münchner and Nürnberger should excel in its preparation. In making a potato-salad, the Teuton for once forgets the caraway seed and substitutes the onion. In all the restaurants, Wirthschafts, and beer-gardens where the hungry and the thirsty throng, great bowls of it, dusted with the fresh greens of finely minced herbs, always stand ready for immediate use. It is served separately and employed with many other dishes--a chain of russet sausages may surround it, or it may inclose a mound of cheese, ham, or caviare. In some form it is ever present. Like Montgomery's daisy,--

"It smiles upon the lap of May,
To sultry August spreads its charm,
Lights pale October on his way,
And twines December's arm."

To attain the best results, young potatoes of a firm kind, with no tendency to mealiness, known as "salad-potatoes," are chosen, boiled in salt water, allowed to cool, and then sliced and seasoned while they are fresh. Potato-salad may be combined with numerous esculents; and of its complementary adjuncts, none blend better with it than corn-salad and watercress.

Deprived of the cucumber, the list of salads were equally shorn of one of its most useful and appreciated members. And whether, as Gerarde affirms, that "of the divers sorts--some greater, some lesser, some of the garden, some wilde, some of one fashion, and some of another--all of the cucumbers are of temperature cold and moist of the second degree, and yield unto the body a cold nourishment, and that very little and the same not good"--who would consent for a moment to have the cucumber eliminated from the list of edibles! Think of its hidden "Vertues"! "It openeth and clenseth, openeth the stoppings of the liver, helpeth the chest and lungs that are inflamed; and being stamped and outwardly applied instead of a denser, it maketh the skin smooth and faire." No wonder it was such a favourite with Tiberius, who was never without it, and had frames made upon wheels, by means of which the growing fruit might be moved and exposed to the full heat of the sun; while in winter they were withdrawn and placed under the protection of frames glazed with mirror-stone. No wonder that Isaiah, in speaking of the desolation of Judah, declared: "The daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers." The main point with the cucumber is to eliminate the prussic acid it contains, by slicing it and soaking it in ice-water and salt for a short time before using. Then, the Hock!--the shad, the whitefish, the pompano, the turbot, the sole!

And when endive is nicely blanched, and the first dark-blue double violets appear in the greenhouse--though skies lower and the storm frown without--what in the varied round of the seasons presents itself more delicious than a blue-violet salad, with a flask of some noble vintage worthy to bear it company! The recipe, which cannot be too widely known, has been presented at length in a previous volume:[60]

"There was a great bunch of double violets on the table, the
lovely dark variety (_Viola odoratissima flore pleno_) with
their short stems, freshly plucked from the garden, and the
room was scented by their delicious breath.

"A bowl of broad-leaved Batavian endive, blanched to a nicety
and alluring as a siren's smile, was placed upon the table. I
almost fancied it was smiling at the violets. A blue-violet
salad, by all means! there are violets and to spare.

"On a separate dish there was a little minced celery, parsley,
and chives. Four heaped salad-spoonfuls of olive-oil were
poured upon the herbs, with a dessertspoonful of white
wine vinegar, the necessary salt and white pepper, and a
tablespoonful of Bordeaux. The petals of two dozen violets
were detached from their stems, and two thirds of them were
incorporated with the dressing. The dressing being thoroughly
mixed with the endive, the remaining flower petals were
sprinkled over the salad and a half-dozen whole violets placed
in the centre.

"The lovely blue sapphires glowed upon the white bosom of the
endive.

"A white-labelled bottle, capsuled Yquem, and the cork branded
'Lur Saluces,' was served with the salad. You note the subtle
aroma of pineapple and fragrance of flower ottos with the
detonation of the cork--the grand vintages of Yquem have a
pronounced _Ananassa_ flavour and bouquet that steeps the
palate with its richness and scents the surrounding atmosphere.

"Now try your blue-violet salad.

"Is it fragrant? is it cool? is it delicious? is it divine?"

The deep-golden, marrowy Yquem, _crême_, of 1861 and 1864 is now alas! unobtainable; and even were it to be procured, it must ere this have parted with much of its marvellous bouquet and _sève_. But the violet yet sheds its colour and distils its perfume for the gathering. Other vintages, too, have been pressed and have mellowed along the classic banks of the Ciron and the Rhein, that may worthily accentuate the violet and endive as the crown of the repast.

SWEETS TO THE SWEET

_Jam jam efficaci do manus scientiæ._[61]

HORACE. Epode xvii. 1.

However scholiasts may have interpreted Horace's line,--and by no two is it interpreted alike,--the repetition or intensification of the first word in connection with the thought that follows must certainly carry conviction to the gastronomer that no mere stress upon a common adverb was intended, but rather a definite allusion to some particular object. The more the sentence is analysed, the greater seems the emphasis laid upon the power of sweets to attract and charm. Apart, moreover, from the iteration of the subject extolled, one is impressed by the force of the expression "_do manus_," which means here, not, as one would suspect, to shake hands; but "I yield," "I surrender," "I throw up my hands"--the strongest form of complete capitulation. And when it is further considered that one who was so careful in his advice and hygienic precepts, as well as so dainty in epithet (_curiosa felicitas_), has expressed his love for an _entremets sucré_ in such emphatic terms, it should be conceded that woman is justified in her predilection for the final course of the dinner, which man is apt to decry. The question of dessert, indeed, is only another instance of where a man thinks he knows, but a woman knows better.

From the engraving by Eisen in Fermiers-Généreaux edition of the
"Contes et Nouvelles" (1762)]

_Le dessert est tout le dîner pour une jolie femme._ Let her enjoy it and the sweet champagne or Muscat-Lunel that goes with it, even if to her opposite "things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour." For, after all, it is unquestionably to woman that we must look for the improvement of cookery. The highest art will still find its expression through the professional chef; the useful, the daily alimentation of the household, must depend upon the ministrations of the housewife and her capacity for extending and improving the list of dishes _à la bonne femme_. Assuredly, appetising cookery will tend more than any other means to maintain the masculine element in good humour, and thereby foster a spirit of liberality and the condoning of feminine foibles.

The dessert is said to be to the dinner what the madrigal is to literature--it is the light poetry of the kitchen, addressed largely to the gentler sex. To the finer fancy of woman, the many forms of dainties which figure in the last course are mainly due; and that they are not more appreciated by man is no doubt owing to the fact that the consumption of tobacco and the use of ardent spirits have blunted his perceptivity in this respect. Herein he is the loser; the mission of the dessert being that of a comforter of the stomach, which, already appeased, nevertheless craves a little reflex flattery through the palate. There are those of the sterner sex, notwithstanding, who still preserve the sweet tooth of childhood, and others who enjoy pastry equally with its most devoted feminine admirers. Charles Lamb held that a man cannot have a pure mind who refuses apple-dumplings. Tasso was so fond of sweetmeats that he even ate his salad with sugar. Henry VIII presented a manor to the inventor of a new pudding-sauce. Goethe adored sweet champagne, and of Horace's partiality for sweets he has doubly assured us.

For all such the cook whose pies are perfect will not have lived in vain; the more so as the artist in pie-making is usually an adept at frying,--and to bad frying and poor pie-making may be charged much of the misery inflicted upon mankind where eating is regarded solely as a necessary function. A cook, moreover, who can make fine puff-paste is more apt to succeed in all the more substantial parts of the art. So that to encourage the dessert and sweetmeats is to beguile and conciliate woman, and thus indirectly promote progress in other branches of cookery. With a little tact and perseverance it becomes relatively easy to persuade her that her fondness for sweets is injurious to her complexion; and this much instilled, it is the less difficult to lead her by gradual steps to the perfection of the entrée and dishes more favoured by man.

There are comparatively few, nevertheless, who really are averse to the dessert if it unite all the qualities that should compose the final course--if it be light and palatable, if it flatter the eye, and if it convey the greatest amount of pleasure to the taste with little sense of fulness. Good pies or puddings and various _entremets de douceur_ are as much a feature of the well-appointed dinner as a well-made salad; and all have their part to perform. Coming last in the order of the repast, like the peroration of a discourse, they should receive more than ordinary attention, both with respect to their immediate impression and the sensation they leave. To the dessert is often unjustly attributed a consequent that really belongs to the reprehensible practice of serving _brut_ champagne at the end of the dinner, whereby digestion is seriously disturbed through the acidity it necessarily provokes. Already pernicious during the early stages, it becomes still more baneful when appetite has palled. The lamb thus must answer for the crime of the wolf; and woman is held responsible for what is directly the fault of man himself.

If a sparkling wine must be served at the end of a dinner, to the exclusion of the early portion, let it partake of the nature of the dainties themselves, in order that it may leave the most dulcet souvenirs.

But, apart from the dessert, sweets enter into many forms of aliments that lend variety and distinction to the table. Who is so wedded to acidity as not to hail with renewed pleasure the appearance of a rum omelette, or that entremets par excellence--omelette aux confitures--if served by a pretty woman at a dinner of two and accompanied by a Rhein _Auslese_ of noble growth? The soufflée, too, has its charms, if woman be present, for which one should always be grateful. What were the turkey without cranberry sauce, in which sugar forms a component, or a mallard without currant-jelly to match the rosy richness of his breast? But in lieu of this universal accessory to many forms of game, a pleasing variety may be had if a lesson be only taken from the Germans, with whom the "Compot" is so highly esteemed in various guises and various grades of sweetness. Of such, one of the most delicious is composed of strawberries and sour cherries in combination, flavoured with Kirsch. An exquisite preserve of southern Germany is the "Hagenmark," which one sees in brimming pails in the market-places during November: a conserve prepared by the peasant women from the hips of the wild dog-rose, as vivid in colour as a cardinal by Vibert.

As for the strawberry, so fragrant and delicious when fresh, but so deadly to the uric-acid diathesis, how safely it may be partaken of when, through madame's deft manipulations, it attains the form of shortcake or preserves! Served with sugar and cream, after baking, as a prelude to the winter breakfast, even the flatulence of the apple is dissipated and the fruit which tempted Eve becomes innocuous. Through sugar and stewing, the currant loses its verjuice, the raspberry under similar treatment is transformed, the acrid quince acquires new virtues, the puckery crab-apple diffuses a silken softness. Cooked with sugar and brandy, the peach may appeal to the most hardened total abstainer, and the fruit of the Psidium, through the magic touch of saccharine, attain a magnificent triumph as guava jelly. To remove sugar from the kitchen were to deprive alimentation of many of its benefits and pleasures, as well as to rob woman of much of her allurement. She would become lean and scrawny, her rounded outlines would gradually disappear, the contours of her tailor-made gown would end by becoming rectilinear, and for her habiliment a strait-jacket would usurp the place of her proud corsage and bouffant petticoat. There would then be no more love-poetry, for there would exist no incentive for the poet, nor could a pretty heroine figure in a novel, or the bust of woman prove the most convincing illustration that the line of beauty is a curve.

One should never lose sight of that excellent sentiment of Blaze de Bury, which will apply to desserts as well, _Qui ne veut point vieillir doit aimer les femmes, et, pour bien les aimer, il faut les aimer toutes_. What a wave of grateful coolness the ice and its yet more seductive sister, ice-cream, contribute when the dog-star reigns and cicadas have begun to shrill! Who among the calumniators of sweets could wish them banished in support of a fallacious theory that sweetmeats render woman more capricious, and are injurious to the roses and lilies of her skin? For the plainer form of these refreshing entremets we are indebted to Catherine de' Medici and her cooks who accompanied her to France from Italy, where ices were already much esteemed. The discoverer of ice-cream is said to be a French chef in the employ of the Duc de Chartres, who exultingly set the dish before him on a hot day in 1774. This was subsequent to the discovery of the pâté de Chartres, which, according to Anatole France, is of itself sufficient to make one revere the country of its origin.

About this period the baba, beloved by the fair sex, met with great favour in France. The baba was the invention of King Stanislas Leszcynski of Poland, a noted epicure, to make amends for the harshness of his name; its ingredients being German yeast, flour, butter, eggs, cream, sugar, saffron, candied citron, Corinthian raisins, currants, and Madeira, Malaga, or rum. It is said to be a difficult entremets to "seize," so as to preserve its attractive reddish colour, which should recall a late October afterglow. It at once appealed to the sweet tooth of femininity, even though that most delectable of garden herbs, angelica, when candied, was overlooked among the sweet ingredients. Like the truffle as described by Savarin, the baba was supposed to render woman more plastic and man more expansive,--_rien que le voir, les yeux rient et les cœurs chantent_.

The date of the introduction of plum-pudding and mince-pie is difficult to ascertain. As early as 1424 appears a mention in an English bill of fare of "Vyaunt ardent," which suggests the former and may have been its precursor. The original recipe of either must have been formidable to follow when one reflects how even now they are provocative of a nightmare, unless executed by the deftest of hands. Plum-pudding in anything like its present form does not appear in cookery books anterior to 1675. Previous to this, plum-porridge, which always served as a first course at Christmas, was prepared by boiling beef or mutton with broth thickened by brown bread. When half cooked, raisins, currants, prunes, cloves, nutmeg, mace, ginger, and other condiments were added, and after the mixture had been thoroughly boiled it was served with meats--a dish fit for the digestive capacities of Jack the Giant-killer. An essentially English product, the plum-pudding has rarely found favour in France, although Louis XVIII was accustomed to serve it at Christmas, and it has long had a place on the menus of many Parisian restaurants. A very elaborate recipe for "Plumbuting" is given by Beauvilliers; but preferable to all formulas is the comparatively simple one of Blot, a dish which may be digested as well as enjoyed, and which is within the range of the average cook. Of course plum-pudding is best during the holiday season, and best of all at the feast of Christmas day.

Mince-pie is an ancient English dish which America has refined. The Year-Book of William Hone of the early part of the past century contains an extended "Ode to the Mince-Pye," which met the approbation of Scott, Lamb, and Southey. In this it is referred to as the "King of Cates,"

"whose pastry-bounded reign
Is felt and own'd o'er pastry's wide domain:
Whom greater gluttons own their sovereign lord
Than ever bowed beneath the dubbing sword.

. . . . . . . . .

"Like Albion's rich plum-pudding, famous grown,
The mince-pye reigns in realms beyond his own,
Through foreign latitudes his power extends,
And only terminates where eating ends.

. . . . . . . . .

"Sovereign of Cates, all hail! nor then refuse
This cordial off'ring from an English muse,
Who pours the brandy in libation free,
And finds plum-pudding realiz'd in thee."

But of all forms of pie, that with the apple for its basis is doubtless the most wholesome and by the majority is most relished. A woman who is infallible in her apple-pies and successful with her sauces deserves an annual trip abroad. But such, like first editions of "The Faerie Queene," are rare. No better instructions regarding the fashioning of apple-pies can be formulated than those of the late Henry Ward Beecher, who so thoroughly understood women, gems, sweetmeats, and gardening. His counsels are worthy of Elia, and the housewife should commit them to memory:

"There is, for example, one made without undercrust, in a deep
plate, and the apples laid in full quarters; or the apples,
being stewed, are beaten to a mush and seasoned and put
between the double paste; or they are sliced thin and cooked
entirely within the covers; or they are put without seasoning
into their bed, and when baked the upper lid is raised and
the butter, nutmeg, cinnamon, and sugar are added, the whole
well mixed and the crust returned as if nothing had happened.
But, oh! be careful of the paste! Let it be not like putty,
nor rush to the other extreme and make it so flaky that one
holds his breath while eating, for fear of blowing it away.
Let it not be plain as bread, nor yet rich like cake. Aim
at that glorious medium in which it is tender without being
too fugaciously flaky; short without being too short; a mild,
sapid, brittle thing, that lies upon the tongue, so as to
let the apple strike through and touch the papillæ with a
more affluent flavour. But this, like all high art, must be a
thing of inspiration or instinct. A true cook will understand
us, and we care not if others do not! Do not suppose that
we limit the apple-pie to the kinds and methods enumerated.
Its capacity in variation is endless, and every diversity
discovers some new charm or flavour. It will accept almost
every flavour of every spice. And yet nothing is so fatal to
the rare and higher graces of apple-pie as inconsiderate,
vulgar spicing. It is not meant to be a mere vehicle for the
exhibition of these spices in their own natures; it is a
glorious unity in which sugar gives up its nature as sugar,
and butter ceases to be butter, and each flavoursome spice
gladly vanishes from its own full nature, that all of them,
by a common death, may rise into the new life of apple-pie.
Not that apple is longer apple. It, too, is transformed; and
the final pie, though born of apple, sugar, butter, nutmeg,
cinnamon, lemon, is like none of these, but the compound ideal
of them all, refined, purified, and by fire fixed in blissful
perfection."

"Do you eat pie?" was once asked of Emerson. "What is pie for?" was the ready and philosophic reply. "Pie, often foolishly abused," said Artemus Ward, "is a good creature at the right time and in angles of thirty or forty degrees, although in semicircles and quadrants it may sometimes prove too much for delicate stomachs."

But think of the pies of two centuries ago! To appreciate the improvement which has taken place in the dessert and the preparation of sweet entremets, one has only to refer to Mrs. Glasse or contemporaneous and previous treatises on cookery. One marvels equally at the strange recipes, the assimilative prowess of the dames of yore, and the progress of the centuries. Canon Barham, who never fails to introduce his bills of fare, though these may not always be strictly reliable from the point of view of the times and the manner of the service, presents this in "The Lay of St. Romwold" as the termination of an olden feast:

"Then came 'sweets'--served in silver were tartlets and pies in
glass,
Jellies composed of punch, calves' feet, and isinglass,
Creams and whipt-syllabubs, some hot, some cool,
Blancmange, and quince-custards, and goosberry-fool."

This was long before the dessert proper--from the French _desservir_, to clear the table--became an established course of the dinner; and when the sweetened dishes of eld might scarcely figure under the pretty Italian title of _Giardinetto_, or "little garden," sometimes applied to the dessert, and suggestive of all that is fragrant and ambrosial.

While there is no reason for supposing that sweet champagne was not as greatly relished by the women of Colonial times as it is to-day, it is true, notwithstanding, that, owing to the greater need of economy, they were obliged to be content for the most part with saccharine tipples of a less expensive nature. Among such, besides mulled wine, was the sack-posset, a favourite drink at weddings and social festivities, borrowed from England, with its numerous ingredients, and favoured alike by miss and matron. The recipe in rhyme for this concoction, after Sir Fleetwood Fletcher, soon became as familiar as Sydney Smith's recipe for salad in the following century:

"A recipe for all Young Ladies that are going to be Married.
To make a Sack-Posset:

From famed Barbadoes on the Western Main
Fetch sugar half a pound; fetch Sack from Spain
A pint; and from the Eastern Indian Coast
Nutmeg, the glory of our Northern toast;
O'er flaming coals together let them heat
Till the all-conquering Sack dissolves the sweet.
O'er such another fire set eggs, twice ten
New born from crowing cock and speckled hen;
Stir them with steady hand, and conscience pricking
To see the untimely fate of twenty chicken.
From shining shelf take down your brazen skillet,
A quart of milk from gentle cow will fill it;
When boiled and cooked put milk and Sack to egg,
Unite them firmly like the triple league.
Then, covered close, together let them dwell
Till Miss twice sings, 'You must not kiss and tell!'
Each lad and lass snatch up their murdering spoon,
And fall on fiercely like a starved dragoon."

Metheglin and negus were well known to our foremothers. There is no record to show that they became partial to "sack," except as sweetened and spiced according to the manner of posset. It is recorded, however, that, eschewing the stronger punch composed of spirits, they were fond of mulled wine, Malaga and Madeira, and were far from disdaining the universal beverage, cider, even in its "hard" form, when mulled.

Cheese is naturally an obligatory portion of the dessert at all company dinners--at least at all dinners where men are present. By dint of persuasion, it has become tolerated by women, not a few of whom regard it with favour if Rocquefort or Gorgonzola is in question, or even Camembert or Brie when perfectly fresh. Its place in the order of the dinner is a matter somewhat in dispute. It figures variously after the roast,--as its successor before the sweets, or as the immediate precursor of the _demi-tasse_,--and it is also asked to do duty with the salad by some who elect to serve the salad as a course apart to succeed the roast. On the continent of Europe it is generally supposed to precede the coffee, after the sweets, and be ready for those who may not care for them; in England it is often served with celery before the dessert. The custom of serving it with the salad, which is purely American, is certainly not to be commended. The mission of cheese is twofold--to change the taste and to act as the concluding digestive. To subserve the latter purpose it should be old, if of a fine-grained kind; and as a digestive few such are equal to Rocquefort. As to its proper place at dessert, it must be recognized that it accords best with the coffee and final glass of port or other dessert wine where these may be employed, and leaves the taste fresher when it concludes the repast. Let appropriate sweets be served with it for those who desire them, but let it not destroy the salad which belongs to the roast, or anticipate the dulcitudes of the final course.

A chapter might be devoted to this suave product of the dairy, but it will be sufficient to present a form of serving it that will appeal to many, inclusive of woman. Like the _fondue_, it is of Swiss origin. In Switzerland, where cheese figures largely, there is known to the initiated a sweet entremets termed "the hunter's sandwich," composed of bread, fresh butter, cheese, and honey in combination, its only drawback being the too cloying nature of the honey. In America this objection may be happily avoided by employing the nectar of the sugar-maple in its stead, and the dish prove all the better either for the sportsman out of doors or served at the dinner with the dessert. On fresh bread cut in thin slices for its base, you will place a layer of the freshest of butter, then a layer of Brie or other fresh cream-cheese, and, finally, a gilding of maple-syrup. For the dessert it may be shaped in various ways, and made as dainty as feminine fingers can devise. Its virtues need no panegyric,--it will succeed the ices with as buoyant a grace as the daffodil follows the snowdrop of spring. Captivated by its charms, the epicure will say, with the van-courier of Bishop Fuger in his chase for the ideal wine, "Est, est, est"; while madame and mademoiselle will attach a new significance to the poet's mellifluous lines,--

"As the last taste of sweets is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past."

With the dessert the dinner ends; and with it, also, properly terminates a review of gastronomy. It may be asked, however, after the somewhat extended reference to cooks and cookery and the literature and ethics of the art, which of the numerous manuals referred to, or of the countless existing works that have not been enumerated, is the best and most serviceable for those who would perfect themselves in the subtleties of the range. The question is easier asked than answered. To specify any one authority, so far as any one writer on cookery may be considered authoritative, were scarcely satisfactory--a comprehensive answer being dependent to no inconsiderable extent upon the tastes, adaptabilities, and qualifications of the person concerned. As there is no one poet, moreover, who may satisfy all or even a single individual, so there is no one author-cook or compiler who has yet compassed the subject. "The cuisine," says Beauvilliers, "simple in its origin, refined from century to century, has become a difficult art, a complicated science on which many authors have written, without having been able to embrace it in its entirety."

The model cook-book--the manual that should appeal to all, the vade mecum that would instruct and delight the amateur, that would tell him just what he should know, eliminating all he should not know--is still numbered among things unaccomplished. So long as every chef is jealous of his every competitor, so long as the professionalist writes solely from the standpoint of his elaborately mounted kitchen, with no deference to the requirements of the more modest household, so long as works on cookery continue to be a mere dry digest of the preparation of food, it will not be achieved. They have come nearer to such a work in France. But who may say that even Dumas' sprightly though bulky treatise is perfect, or that any of the voluminous "'Cuisiniers' des Cuisiniers" has indicated the perfect road to happiness? And of the enormous number of books on the subject, how many are not so technical as to be of little service, or so lacking in comprehensive grasp as to fall utterly short of their aim? The perfect cook-book, as near as a cook-book can be perfect, has yet to find its author and its publisher.

Facsimile of title-page]

It may be assumed, therefore, that it will be written by an amateur--a man devoid of prejudices so far as any rivalry in his craft is concerned, whose sole object will be to write for his own pleasure and the gratification it will afford his readers. For, it will be readily perceived, a cook-book for the professional is one thing; a manual for the amateur, another.

To a lucid, delightful style and grace of expression its author will unite the widest familiarity with the cuisine of the past and the present. He will have at his beck and call a culinary library like that of Baron Pichon, an executive genius equal to Carême's, a physiological perceptivity rivalling that of Savarin, a knowledge of the subject in all that relates to its material sense as great as La Reynière's. A man of unbounded capacities, whose appetite can never be appeased, he will himself have savoured the multitudinous dishes he treats of, before recommending them to others of less assimilative capabilities than his own. Thoroughly conversant with hygiene and the constituent elements of foods, he will add, as it were, to the qualifications of a gourmet and epicurean mentor, the knowledge of a physician and chemist, or one who can distinguish the digestive sequents of different articles of diet.

He will be a learned œnologist as well, acquainted with the wines of all countries, their best growths and most desirable vintages; as also the widely varying effects upon the system of different wines. Endowed with perfect physical faculties, furthered by long intimacy with and daily use of wine, his sense of taste and smell will have attained the highest possible development, enabling him to trace and compare the flavours and ethers of different growths; thus indicating what one should avoid, as also what one should choose, according to individual requirements. Supplementing his monograph on wines will occur as its natural consequent a profound dissertation on gout, dealing at length with the true causes of the malady in all its phases, and indicating a cure within the power of the wine-drinker to compass without abstaining from the beverage he loves. Some magical lozenge that is guileless of colchicum, some marvellous elixir distilled in the alembics of the past, or some special essence of the vine itself will be prescribed, to be taken with the dinner, when the afflicted may once more eat and drink in moderation, "without fear and without reproach."

The author will have travelled far and wide, and will intelligently contribute the spoils of his gastronomic chase, retrenching from a dish here and elaborating there, if need be, as he dispenses his appetising formulas. Yet so delicate his taste, of such discriminating nicety his judgment, that, barring individual dislikes for certain aliments, one may trust implicitly to the form of preparation he prescribes. From the manuscripts of the ancient monks he will have rescued many a simple though priceless dish, and from Baudelaire, Théodore de Banville, and Jules Janin have committed many an unpublished poem of the table to his storehouse of delights. And while conversant with all that is best in existing works by the great masters of the art, as well as the lesser lights of the science, and quoting freely from them, he will nevertheless avoid the elaborate recipes and interminable menus that Gouffé and others pride themselves upon, which require a maître-d'hôtel to understand, a corps of assistants to execute, and a Crœsus to liquidate. Spiced with anecdote and seasoned with humour and philosophy, his chapters will glide on in lucid flow, and his recipes leave no nightmares behind. His text will be free from grossness, and be tainted with no worn-out aphorisms; so clear that all may understand, and, understanding, turn its counsels to practical account.

He will be familiar, as a sportsman, with game; and will have contemplated the masterpieces of Weenix, Sneyders, and Hondius to impart additional colour in his references to the wild furred and feathered tribes. And to the further embellishment of his text, he will also have studied the other great pictures of still-life of the old Dutch and Flemish schools,--the fowls of Hondecoeter; the fruits of Utrecht and De Heem; the fishes of Seghers; the flower-laden tables of Van Huysum and Jan Fyt; the kitchen-pieces beloved by Metzu and Zorg; the eating-bouts of Brockenburg; the gay _Kermesse_ and merrymakings of Brouwer, Teniers, and Ostade. Nor will his knowledge of the products of the vegetable world, apart from those employed for food alone,--the spices and condiments that make or mar a dish, that aid or harm digestion,--be less carefully set forth upon his golden page. The volumes will be small, so they may be unburdensome to peruse, as inviting in their letterpress as the daintiest of Elzevirs. In fine, a combination of the qualities of the scholar, the master-cook, the painter, the gastronomer, the sportsman, and the pantologist, assisted by the skill of the bookmaker and etcher, will be required to compose the cook-book par excellence.

In the interval, while it yet slumbers upon the shelves of dreamland, one must remain satisfied as nearly as may be with the manuals that are already accessible; and, like the wind in the trees, draw a note here and a chord there from the existing strings of the harp of Good Cheer.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A few among English, American, and French works, both ancient and modern, that relate to gastronomy and cookery are presented herewith. As may be perceived at a glance, the list is not intended to be comprehensive, so multitudinous are the monographs relating to the subject, but a mere index or signboard pointing to the nature of the vast and varied literature, both good, bad, and indifferent, that the topic has inspired. Works relating strictly to wines and alcoholic beverages have not been included, as these, though intimately connected with the table, belong more properly to a volume on the cellar itself. It will be observed that works by women predominate in the English language, whereas, in French, masculinity for the greater part has superintended the larder and the saucepans and elaborated the literature of the art. The scholar who is especially interested in the bibliography of gastronomy may be referred to the valuable work of M. Georges Vicaire as the most comprehensive on the theme, particularly so far as foreign contributions to epulary literature are concerned.

Evelyn (John). ACETARIA: A DISCOURSE OF SALLETS, 1706. (8vo.)

THE AMERICAN SALAD-BOOK. By Maximilian De Loup. Second Edition. New York: McClure, Phillips & Co., 1900. (8vo.) pp. 144.

Warner (Rev. Richard). ANTIQUITATES CULINARIÆ; OR, CURIOUS TRACTS RELATING TO THE CULINARY AFFAIRS OF THE OLD ENGLISH. London: Printed for R. Blamire, 1791. (4to) pp. 137.

APICIAN MORSELS; OR, TALES OF THE TABLE, KITCHEN, AND LARDER. By Dick Humelbergius Secundus. New York: J. & J. Harper, 1829. (8vo) pp. 212. (A volume largely pirated from Grimod de la Reynière.)

King (Wm.). THE ART OF COOKERY. A Poem in Imitation of Horace's Art of Poetry. By the Author of a Tale of a Tub. _Coqus omnia miscet_--Juven. London: Printed, and are to be Sold by the Booksellers of London and Westminster, 1708. (Small folio) pp. 22.

King (Wm.). THE ART OF COOKERY. With some Letters to Dr. Lister and Others, etc., to which is added Horace's Art of Poetry, in Latin. Printed for Bernard Lintott, 1740. (8vo) pp. 160.

Hayward (Anthony). THE ART OF DINING; OR, GASTRONOMY AND GASTRONOMERS. London: John Murray, 1852. (4½ x 7 in.) pp. 137.

BANQUETT OF DAINTIES: FOR ALL SUCHE GESTS THAT LOUE MODERATT DYATE. By Theo. Hackett. London, 1566. (8vo) pp. 42.

Murrey (Thomas J.). THE BOOK OF ENTRÉES. New York: White, Stokes & Allen, 1886. (4¼ x 6 in.)

Farmer (Fannie Merritt). THE BOSTON COOKING-SCHOOL COOK BOOK. By Fannie Merritt Farmer, Principal of the Boston Cooking School. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1896. (8vo) pp. xxx, 567.

BREAKFAST, DINNER, AND TEA: VIEWED CLASSICALLY, POETICALLY AND PRACTICALLY. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1869. (6 x 7½ in.) pp. 351.

BREAKFASTS, LUNCHEONS AND DINNERS AT HOME. How to Order, Cook, and Serve Them. By Short. Sixth Edition. London: Kerby & Endean, 1886. (8vo) pp. 204.

CASSELL'S DICTIONARY OF COOKERY. With Numerous Engravings and Coloured Plates, Containing About 9000 Recipes. London, Paris, and New York: Cassell, Petter & Galpin. n. d. (Large 8vo) pp. xcvi, 1178.

Ronald (Mary). THE CENTURY COOK-BOOK. New York: The Century Co., 1895. (8vo) pp. 587.

THE CHAFING-DISH SUPPER. By Christine Terhune Herrick. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1899. (12mo) pp. 112.

A CLOSET FOR LADIES AND GENTLEMEN; OR, THE ART OF PRESERVING, CONSERVING AND CANDYING. With the Manner how to make Diverse Kindes of Syrupes, and All Kinde of Banquetting Stuffes, etc. London: Printed for Arthur Johnson, 1618. (16mo) pp. 190.

THE CLOSET OF THE EMINENTLY LEARNED SIR KENELME DIGBY, KT., OPENED. Whereby is Discovered several ways for Making of Metheglin, Syder, Cherry-Wine, etc., Together with Excellent Directions for Cookery, as also for Preserving, Conserving, Candying, etc. London, 1677. (12mo.)

Carter (Charles). THE COMPLEAT CITY AND COUNTRY COOK; OR, ACCOMPLISH'D HOUSEWIFE. Containing Several Hundred of the Most Approv'd Receipts in Cookery, Confectionary, etc. Illustrated with Forty-nine large Copper-plates. London, 1732. (8vo) pp. 280.

Peckham (Ann). THE COMPLETE ENGLISH COOK; OR, PRUDENT HOUSEWIFE. Being a Collection of the Most General, yet Least Expensive Receipts in Every Branch of Cookery and Good Housewifery, etc. By Ann Peckham, of Leeds. The Third Edition. Leeds, 1770. (12mo) pp. 242.

THE COMPLETE FAMILY PIECE. A very Choice Collection of Receipts in Cookery. Seventh Edition. London, 1744. (8vo.)

Smith (E.). THE COMPLETE HOUSEWIFE; OR, ACCOMPLISHED GENTLEWOMAN'S COMPANION. Being a Collection of upwards of Seven Hundred of the Most Approved Receipts in Cookery, Pastry, Confectionary, etc., etc. The Seventeenth Edition, with Additions. London: Printed for J. Buckland, etc., 1766. (8vo.) pp. 364.

THE COMPLETE SERVANT-MAID. London, 1682. (12mo.)

THE COOK-BOOK. By "Oscar" of the Waldorf (Oscar Tschirky, Maître d'Hôtel, the Waldorf). Chicago and New York: The Werner Co., 1896. (Large 4to) pp. 907.

Reeve (Mrs. Henry). COOKERY AND HOUSEKEEPING. A Manual of Domestic Economy for Large and Small Families. Fourth Edition. London and New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1888. (8vo) pp. 540.

Kitchener (Dr. Wm.). THE COOK'S ORACLE. Fourth Edition. London, 1822. (4½ x 7½ in.) pp. xviii, 545.

Athenæus. THE DEIPNOSOPHISTS; OR, BANQUET OF THE LEARNED OF ATHENÆUS. Literally Translated by C. D. Yonge, B.A. 3 vols. London: Henry C. Bohn, 1854. (5 x 7½ in.)

Child (Theodore). DELICATE FEASTING. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1890. (5½ x 6½ in.) pp. 214.

Newnham-Davis (Lieut.-Col.). DINNERS AND DINERS: WHERE AND HOW TO DINE IN LONDON. A New Enlarged and Revised Edition. London: Grant Richards, 1901. (5 x 7 in.) pp. 376.

Harland (Marion). THE DINNER YEAR-BOOK. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1878. (8vo) pp. 713.

DOMESTIC COOKERY (A NEW SYSTEM OF), FORMED UPON PRINCIPLES OF ECONOMY. By a Lady. A New Edition, Corrected. London: John Murray, 1814. (4 x 7 in.) pp. xxx, 352.

EARLY ENGLISH MEALS AND MANNERS. London: The Early English Text Society, 1868. (5½ x 8½ in.)

Hoy (Albert Harris, M.D.). EATING AND DRINKING: THE ALKALINITY OF THE BLOOD. The Test of Food and Drink in Health and Disease. Chicago: A. C. McClurg & Co., 1896. (5½ x 8 in.) pp. 304.

EGG COOKERY: ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY WAYS OF COOKING AND SERVING EGGS. By Alfred Suzanne, Twenty-eight Years Chef to the Earl of Wilton, now Chef to the Duke of Bedford. Second Edition. London: Newton & Eskell, 1887. (12mo) pp. 97.

THE ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF PRACTICAL COOKERY. A Complete Dictionary of all pertaining to the Art of Cookery and Table Service, Illustrated with Coloured Plates and Engravings by Harold Furness, George Cruikshank, W. Munn Andrew, and others. Edited by Thomas Francis Garrett, etc., etc., etc. London: L. Upcott Gill. Philadelphia: Hudson Importing Co. 8 vols. (Large 4to) pp. 1898.

Markham (G.). THE ENGLISH HOUSEWIFE. Containing the Inward and Outward Vertues which ought to be in a Compleat Woman, etc., etc. Eighth Edition. London: George Sawbridge, 1675. (6 x 7¾ in.) pp. 188.

AN ENGLISHMAN IN PARIS. Notes and Recollections. Two vols. in one. New York: D. Appleton & Co. (Town and Country Library). (12mo) pp. 478.

THE EPICUREAN. A Complete Treatise of Analytical and Practical Studies on the Culinary Art. By Charles Ranhofer, Chef of Delmonico's. Illustrated with 800 Plates. New York: Charles Ranhofer, 1894. (Large 4to) pp. 1183.

Raffald (Elizabeth). THE EXPERIENCED ENGLISH HOUSEKEEPER. For the Use and Ease of Ladies, Housekeepers, and Cooks, etc. Wrote purely from Practice, etc. The Third Edition. London: R. Baldwin, 1773. (8vo) pp. 366.

THE EXPERT WAITRESS. A Manual for the Pantry, Kitchen, and Dining-room. By Anne Frances Springsteed. New York and London: Harper & Bros., 1902. (12mo) pp. 131.

Pennell (Elizabeth Robins). THE FEASTS OF AUTOLYCUS: THE DIARY OF A GREEDY WOMAN. London: John Lane. New York: The Merriam Co., 1896. (5 x 7 in.) pp. 264.

FIFTY DINNERS. By A. Kenney Herbert ("Wyvern"). London and New York: Edward Arnold, 1895. (12mo) pp. 188.

FOOD AND FEEDING. By Sir Henry Thompson, Bart. Tenth Edition. London and New York: Frederick Warne & Co., 1899. (8vo) pp. 312.

FOOD MATERIALS AND THEIR ADULTERATIONS. By Ellen H. Richards. New Edition. Boston: Home Science Publishing Co., 1898. (Small 4to) pp. 183.

GASTRONOMY AS A FINE ART. A Translation of the Physiologie du Goût of Brillat-Savarin. By R. E. Anderson, M.A. London: Chatto & Windus, 1877. (5¼ x 7¼ in.) pp. xxxvii, 280.

Dawson (Thos.). THE GOOD HUSWIUVE'S JEWELL. In two Parts. London, 1596-7. (16mo.)

Brugière (Sarah Van Buren). GOOD LIVING. A Practical Cookery-book for Town and County. Second Edition. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1890. (8vo) pp. 606.

A HANDBOOK OF GASTRONOMY. New and Complete Translation of Brillat-Savarin's Physiologie du Goût. With 52 Original Etchings by A. Lalauze; Preface by Charles Monselet. London: John C. Nimmo. New York: J. W. Bouton, 1884. (Tall 8vo) pp. 516.

Blot (Pierre). HANDBOOK OF PRACTICAL COOKERY. For Ladies and Professional Cooks. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1888. (5 x 7½ in.) pp. 478.

HEALTH'S IMPROVEMENT; OR, RULES COMPRISING AND DISCOVERING THE NATURE, METHOD AND MANNER OF PREPARING ALL SORTS OF FOOD USED IN THIS NATION. Written by that ever Famous Thomas Muffett, Doctor in Physick; Corrected and Enlarged by Christopher Bennet, Doctor in Physick, and Fellow of the Colledge of Physitions in London, 1655. (Small 4to.)

Larwood (Jacob) and Hotten (John Camden). THE HISTORY OF SIGNBOARDS. Third Edition. London: John Camden Hotten, 1866. (5½ x 6½ in.) pp. 536.

Harrison (Mrs. Sarah). THE HOUSEKEEPER'S POCKET BOOK, AND COMPLEAT FAMILY COOK. Containing above Seven Hundred Curious and Uncommon Receipts, etc., etc. London: Printed for R. Ware, 1751. (12mo) pp. 268.

ICE-CREAM AND CAKES. A New Collection of Standard Fresh and Original Receipts for Household and Commercial Use, by an American. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1883. (8vo) pp. 384.