CAKES
UC-NRLF
7
EDWARDSPENCER
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
DAVIS
IN MEMORY OF
HARRY MONTEFIORE GOLDBERG
PRESENTED BY
Josa Goldberg
Y
THE "EVERYDAY 1
SERIES
Edited by GERTRUDE PAUL
Each book contains a Recipe for every day in the
year, including February 2gth. In crown 8vo, strongly
bound, Is. net each.
The Everyday Vegetable Book. ByF.K.
The Everyday Soup Book. By G. P.
The Everyday Economical Cookery
Book. By A. T. K.
The Everyday Pudding Book. By F. K.
" If you want a tasty recipe for every day in the year, you can
do nothing better than purchase a copy of the ' Everyday Pudding
Book. 1 "Referee.
The Everyday Savoury Book. By
MARIE WORTH.
" Nothing could be clearer." School Guardian.
Diners a Deux. By S. BEACH CHESTER.
Author of*' Anomalies of English Law," etc. Crown
8vo, 53. net.
Diners a Deux is a delightful piece of work, written by a man of
the world who has studied life from an exceptionally advantageous
point of view in different parts of the continent during several
decades, and is full of good stories drawn from very wide experience.
Paul's Simplicode.
Crown 8vo, cloth, is. net.
A simple and thoroughly practical and efficient code
for the use of Travellers, Tourists, Business Men,
Colonial Emigrants, Lawyers, and the general public.
Everyone should use this, the cheapest code book pub-
lished in English. A sentence in a word.
LONDON: STANLEY PAUL & CO.
31, ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.C.
The
Books Everyone Wants
The Diner's-Out Vade Mecum. A
Pocket "What's What" on the Manners and
Customs of Society Functions, etc., etc. By ALFKED
H. MILES. Author of "The New Standard Elocu-
tionist," etc. In fcap. 8vo (6J by 3^), cloth bound,
round corners, is. 6d. net. Leather, 2s. net.
Intended to help the diffident and inexperienced at Dinners, Teas,
At Homes, Receptions, Balls and Suppers, with hints on Etiquette,
Dress, After-Dinner Speaking, Story-Telling, Toasts and Sentiments.
The Laughter Lover's Vade Mecum.
Comprising one thousand Good Stories, Jokes,
Epigrams, and Verses. In fcap. 8vo (6J x 3$), cloth
bound, round corners, is. 6d. net. Leather, 2s. net.
Whoever wishes to secure a reoertoire of amusing stories and smart
sayings to be retailed for the delight of his family and friends, cau-
not possibly do better than get " The Laughter Lover's Vade
Mecum"; and those who seek relief from worries, little and big,
should take advantage of the same advice.
My Own Reciter. By ALFRED H. MILES.
Author of " The Diner's-Out Vade Mecum," etc.
Crown 8vo, is. net.
"The Ballads have colour, warmth and movement. Mr. Miles is
a poet of the people." Bookman.
Cole's Fun Doctor. FIRST SERIES. One
of the two funniest books in the world. By E.W. COLE.
384 pp., crown 8vo, cloth, 25. 6d.
The mission of mirth is well understood. " Laugh and Grow Fat "
is a common proverb, and the healthiness of humour goes without
saying.
Cole's Fun Doctor. SECOND SERIES. The
other of the two funniest books in the world. By
E. W. COLE. 440 pp., crown 8vo, cloth, as. 6d.
Dr. Blues had an extensive practice until the Fun Doctor set up in
opposition, but now Fun Doctors are in requisition everywhere.
LONDON: STANLEY PAUL & CO.
31, ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.C.
CAKES AND ALB
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE FLOWING BOWL
A TREATISE ON DRINKS OF ALL KINDS
AND OF ALL PERIODS, INTERSPERSED
WITH SUNDRY ANECDOTES AND
REMINISCENCES
BY
EDWARD SPENCER
('NATHANIEL GUBBINS')
Author of "Cakes and Ale," etc.
Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 2/6 net,
SECOND EDITION.
With cover design by the late PHIL MAY.
" The Flowing Bowl " overflows with good
cheer. In the happy style that enlivens its
companion volume, " Cakes and Ale," the
author gives a history of drinks and their
use, interspersed with innumerable recipes
for drinks new and old, dug out of records
of ancient days, or set down anew.
LONDON: STANLEY PAUL & CO.
31, Essex Street, Strand, W.C.
CAKES & ALE
A DISSERTATION ON BANQUETS
INTERSPERSED WITH VARIOUS RECIPES,
MORE OR LESS ORIGINAL, AND
ANECDOTES, MAINLY VERACIOUS
BY
EDWARD SPENCER
(' NATHANIEL GUBBINS ')
AUTHOR OF " THE FLOWING BOWL," BTC.
FOURTH EDITION
i/i
\ / /
STANLEY PAUL & CO.
31, ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.C
1 /
LIBRARY
JJHIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
First printed April 1897
Reprinted May 1897
Cheap Edition February 1900
Reprinted 1913
TO THE MODERN LUCULLUS
JOHN CORLETT
fRANDEST OF HOSTS, BEST OF TRENCHERMEJf
I DEDICATE
(WITHOUT ANY SORT OF PERMISSION)
THIS BOOK
PREFACE
A LONG time ago, an estimable lady fell at the
feet of an habitual publisher, and prayed unto
him :
" Give, oh ! give me the subject of a book for
which the world has a need, and I will write it
for you."
" Are you an author, madam ? " asked the
publisher, motioning his visitor to a seat.
u No, sir," was the proud reply, " I am a poet."
" Ah ! " said the great man. " I am afraid
there is no immediate worldly need of a poet. If
you could only write a good cookery book, now ! "
The story goes on to relate how the poetess,
not rebuffed in the least, started on the requisite
culinary work, directly she got home ; pawned
her jewels to purchase postage stamps, and wrote
far and wide for recipes, which in course of time
she obtained, by the hundredweight. Other
recipes she u conveyed " from ancient works or
gastronomy, and in a year or two the magnum opu
was given to the world ; the lady's share in the
x CAKES AND ALE
profits giving her "adequate provision for the
remainder of her life." We are not told, but it
is presumable, that the publisher received a little
adequate provision too.
History occasionally repeats itself j and the
history of the present work begins in very much
the same way. Whether it will finish in an
equally satisfactory manner is problematical. I do
not possess much of the divine afflatus myself;
but there has ever lurked within me some sort
of ambition to write a book something held
together by "tree calf," "half morocco," or
" boards " ; something that might find its way
into the hearts and homes of an enlightened
public ; something which will give some of my
young friends ample opportunity for criticism.
In the exercise of my profession I have written
leagues of descriptive " copy " mostly lies and
racing selections, but up to now there has been
no urgent demand for a book of any sort from
this pen. For years my ambition has remained
ungratified. Publishers as a rule, the most faint-
hearted and least speculative of mankind have
held aloof. And whatever suggestions I might
make were rejected, with determination, if not
with contumely.
At length came the hour, and the man ; the
introduction to a publisher with an eye for
budding and hitherto misdirected talent.
" Do you care, sir," I inquired at the outset,'
PREFACE xi
" to undertake the dissemination of a bulky work
on Political Economy ? "
"Frankly, sir, I do not," was the reply.
Then I tried him with various subjects social
reform, the drama, bimetallism, the ethics of
starting prices, the advantages of motor cars in
African warfare, natural history, the martyrdom
of Ananias, practical horticulture, military law,
and dogs ; until he took down an old duck-gun
from a peg over the mantelpiece, and assumed a
threatening attitude.
Peace having been restored, the self-repetition
of history recommenced.
" I can do with a good, bold, brilliant, lightly
treated, exhaustive work on Gastronomy," said
the publisher, " you are well acquainted with the
subject, I believe ? "
" I'm a bit of a parlour cook, if that's what
you mean," was my humble reply. " At a salad,
a grill, an anchovy toast, or a cooling and cun-
ningly compounded cup, I can be underwritten
at ordinary rates. But I could no more cook a
haunch of venison, or even boil a rabbit, or make
an economical Christmas pudding, than I could
sail a boat in a nor'-easter ; and Madam Cook
would certainly eject me from her kitchen, with
a clout attached to the hem of my dinner jacket,
inside five minutes."
Eventually it was decided that I should com-
mence this book.
xii CAKES AND ALE
" What I want," said the publisher, " is a
series of essays on food, a few anecdotes of stirring
adventure you have a fine flow of imagination,
I understand and a few useful, but uncommon
recipes. But plenty of plums in the book, my
dear sir, plenty of plums."
" But, suppose my own supply of plums should
not hold out, what am I to do ? "
" What do you do what does the cook do,
when the plums for her pudding run short ? Get
some more ; the Museum, my dear sir, the great
storehouse of national literature, is free to all
whose character is above the normal standard.
When your memory and imagination fail, try the
British Museum. You know what is a mightier
factor than both sword and pen ? Precisely so.
And remember that in replenishing your store
from the works of those who have gone before,
you are only following in their footsteps. I only
bar Sydney Smith and Charles Lamb. Let me
have the script by Christmas d'you smoke ?
mind the step good morning."
In this way, gentle reader, were the trenches
dug, the saps laid for the attack of the great work.
The bulk of it is original, and the adventures in
which the writer has taken part are absolutely
true. About some of the others I would not be
so positive. Some of the recipes have previously
figured in the pages of the Sporting Times , the
Lady's Pictorial, and the Man of the World, to
PREFACE xni
the proprietors of which journals I hereby express
my kindly thanks for permission to revive them.
Many of the recipes are original ; some are my
own ; others have been sent in by relatives, and
friends of my youth ; others have been adapted
for modern requirements from works of great
antiquity ; whilst others again I am nothing if
not candid have been " conveyed " from the
works of more modern writers, who in their turn
had borrowed them from the works of their
ancestors. There is nothing new under the sun ;
and there are but few absolute novelties which
are subjected to the heat of the kitchen fire.
If the style of the work be faulty, the reason
not the excuse is that the style is innate, and
not modelled upon anybody else's style. The
language I have endeavoured to make as plain,
homely, and vigorous as is the food advocated. If
the criticisms on foreign cookery should offend
the talented chef^ I have the satisfaction of know-
ing that, as I have forsworn his works, he will
be unable to retaliate with poison. And if the
criticism? on the modern English methods of
preparing food should attract the attention of the
home caterer, he may possibly be induced to give
his steam-chest and his gas-range a rest, and put
the roast beef of Old England on his table,
occasionally ; though I have only the very faintest
hopes that he will do so. For the monster eating-
houses and mammoth hotels of to-day are for the
xiv CAKES AND ALE
most part cc run " by companies and syndicates ;
and the company within the dining-room suffer
occasionally, in order that dividends may be
possible after payment has been made for the
elaborate, and wholly unnecessary, furniture, and
decorations. Wholesome food is usually sufficient
for the ordinary British appetite, without such
surroundings as marble pillars, Etruscan vases,
nude figures, gilding, and looking-glasses, which
only serve to distract attention from the banquet.
It is with many a sigh that I recall the good old-
fashioned inn, where the guest really received a
warm welcome. Nowadays, the warmest part of
that welcome is usually the bill.
It is related of the wittiest man of the nine-
teenth century, my late friend Mr. Henry J,
Byron, that, upon one occasion, whilst walking
home with a brother dramatist, after the first
performance of his comedy, which had failed to
please the audience, Byron shed tears.
" How is this ? " inquired his friend. " The
failure of my play appears to affect you strangely/'
" I was only weeping," was the reply, " because
I was afraid you'd set to work, and write another."
But there need be no tears shed on any page
of this food book. For I am not going to
" write another."
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
BREAKFAST
Formal or informal ? An eccentric old gentleman The ancient
Britons Breakfast in the days of Good Queen Bess A
few tea statistics Garraway's Something about coffee
Brandy for breakfast The evolution of the staff of life
Free Trade The cheap loaf, and no cash to buy it Pages 1-9
CHAPTER II
BREAKFAST (continued)
Country-house life An Englishwoman at her best Guests'
comforts What to eat at the first meal A few choice
recipes A noble grill-sauce The poor outcast Appetising
dishes Hotel " worries " The old regime and the new
"No cheques"; no soles, and "whitings is hoff" A
halibut steak Skilly and oakum Breakfast out of the
rates 10-21
xvi CAKES AND ALE
CHAPTER III
BREAKFAST (continued)
Bonnie Scotland Parritch an' cream Fin'an baddies A knife
on the ocean wave A la Francois In the gorgeous East
Cbota ha-zr'i English as she is spoke Dak bungalow fare
Some quaint dishes Breakfast with " my tutor " A Don'
absence of mind . . ; .: V Pages 22-33
CHAPTER IV
LUNCHEON
Why lunch? Sir Henry Thompson on overdoing it The child-
ren's dinner City lunches "Ye Olde Cheshyre Cheese"
Doctor Johnson Ye pudding A great fall in food A
snipe pudding Skirt, not rumpsteak Lancashire hot-pot
A Cape " brady " . . . , . . 34*43
CHAPTER V
LUNCHEON (continued]
Shooting luncheons Cold tea and a crust Clear turtle Such
larks ! Jugged duck and oysters Woodcock pie Hunting
luncheons Pie crusts The true Yorkshire pie Race-
course luncheons Suggestions to caterers The "Jolly
Sandboys " stew Various recipes A race-course sandwich
Angels' pie "Suffolk pride" Devilled larks A light lunch
in the Himalayas ...... 44-58
CONTENTS
CHAPTER VI
DINNER
Origin Early dinners The noble Romans " Vitellius the
Glutton " Origin of haggis The Saxons Highland hospi-
tality The French invasion Waterloo avenged The bad
fairy " Ala " Comparisons -The English cook or the foreign
food torturer? Plain or flowery Fresh fish and the flavour
wrapped up George Augustus Sala Doctor Johnson
again Pages 59-72
CHAPTER VII
DINNER (continued]
Imitation Dear Lady Thistlebrain Try it on the dog
Criminality of the English caterer The stove, the stink,
the steamer Roasting <v. baking False economy Dirty
ovens Frills and fingers Time over dinner A long-
winded Bishop Corned beef .... 73-8 1
CHAPTER VIII
DINNER (continued)
A merry Christmas Bin F A Nuel banquet Watercress
How Royalty fares The Tsar Bouillabaisse Tournedos
Bisque Vol-au-vent Pre sale' Chinese banquets A fixed
bayonet Bcrnardin Salmi The duck -squeezer American
cookery ; ' Borston " beans He couldn't eat beef 82-96
B
xviii CAKES AND ALE
CHAPTER IX
DINNER (continued)
French soup A regimental dinner A city banquet Baksheesh
Aboard ship An ideal dinner Cod's liver Sleeping in the
kitchen A fricandeau Regimental messes Peter the
Great Napoleon the Great Victoria The Iron Duke
Mushrooms A medical opinion A North Pole banquet
Dogs as food Plain unvarnished fare The Kent Road
cookery More beans than bacon . . Pages 97-110
CHAPTER X
VEGETABLES
Use and abuse of the potato Its eccentricities Its origin
Hawkins, not Raleigh, introduced it into England With or
without the "jacket"? Don't let it be a-la-tA Benevol-
ence and large-heartedness of the cabbage family Pease on
earth Pythagoras on the bean " Giving him beans "
" Haricot " a misnomer " Borston " beans Frijoles The
carrot Crecy soup The Prince of Wales The Black
Prince and the King of Bohemia . , . 111-122
CHAPTER XI
VEGETABLES (continued)
The brief lives of the best A vegetable with a pedigree
Argenteuil The Elysian Fields The tomato the emblem of
love " Neeps " Spinach " Stomach-brush " The savoury
tear-provoker Invaluable for wasp-stings Celery merely
cultivated " smallage " The " Afium " The parsnip O
Jerusalem ! The golden sunflower How to get pheasants
A vegetarian banquet " Swelling wisibly " . 123-133
CONTENTS xix
CHAPTER XII
CURRIES
Different modes of manufacture The "native" fraud "That
man's family " The French kari A Parsee curry " The
oyster in the sauce " Ingredients Malay curry Locusts-
When to serve What to curry Prawn curry Dry curry,
champion recipe Rice The Bombay duck Pages 134-146
CHAPTER XIII
SALADS
Nebuchadnezzar v. Sydney Smith Salt? No salad-bowl-
French origin Apocryphal story of Francatelli Salads and
salads Water-cress and dirty water Salad-maker born
not made Lobster salad Lettuce, Wipe or wash?
Mayonnaise Potato salad Tomato ditto Celery ditto
A memorable ditto 147-157
CHAPTER XIV
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS
Roman salad Italian ditto Various other salads bauce for
cold mutton Chutnine Raw chutnee Horse-radish sauce
Christopher North's sauce How to serve a mackerel
Sauce Tartare Ditto for sucking pig Delights of making
Sambal A new language . . . . 158-169
xx CAKES AND ALE
CHAPTER XV
SUPPER
Cleopatra's supper Oysters Danger in the Aden bivalve
Oyster stew Ball suppers Pretty dishes The Taj Mahal
Aspic Bloater paste and whipped cream Ladies' recipes
Cookery colleges Tripe Smothered in onions North
Riding fashion An hotel supper Lord Tomnoddy at the
" Magpie and Stump " .... Pages 170-180
CHAPTER XVI
SUPPER (continued)
Old supper-houses The Early Closing Act Evans's Cremorne
Gardens " The Albion " Parlour cookery Kidneys fried
in the fire-shovel The true way to grill a bone " Cannie
-Carle" My lady's bower Kidney dumplings A Middle-
ham supper Steaks cut from a colt by brother to " Strafford"
out of sister to "Bird on the Wing" . . . 181-191
CHAPTER XVII
" CAMPING OUT "
The ups and downs of life Stirring adventures Marching on to
glory Shooting in the tropics Pepper-pot With the
Rajah Sahib Goat-sacrifices at breakfast time Simla to
Cashmere Manners and customs of Thibet Burmah No
place to get fat in Insects Voracity of the natives
Snakes Sport in the Jungle Loaded for snipe, sure to
meet tiger With the gippos No baked hedgehog Cheap
mi'.lc . ...... 192-205
CO iNTENTS
CHAPTER XVIII
COMPOUND DRINKS
Derivation of punch "Five" The " milk " brand The best
materials Various other punches Bischoff or Bishop
" Halo " punch Toddy The toddy tree of India Flip
A " peg" John Collins Out of the guard-room
Pages 206-218
CHAPTER XIX
CUPS AND CORDIALS
Five recipes for claret cup Balaclava cup Orgeat Ascot cup
Stout and champagne Shandy-gaff for millionaires Ale
cup Cobblers which will stick to the last Home Ruler
Cherry brandy Sloe gin Home-made, if possible A new
industry Apricot brandy Highland cordial Bitters
Jumping-powder Orange brandy " Mandragora " " Sleep
rock thy brain !" . . ,, . . . 219-231
CHAPTER XX
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK
Evil effects of dram-drinking The " Gin-crawl " Abstinence in
H.M. service City manners and customs Useless to argue
with the soaker Cocktails Pet names for drams The
free lunch system Fancy mixtures Why no cassis ? Good
advice like water on a duck's back . i'vis . 232-245
xxii CAKES AND ALE
CHAPTER XXI
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA
Thomas Carlyle Thackeray Harrison Ainsworth Sir Walter
Scott Miss Braddon Marie Corelli F.C.Philips Black-
more Charles Dickens Pick-wick reeking with alcohol
Brandy and oysters Little Dorrit Great Expectations
Micawber as a punch-maker David Cofperficld " Practic-
able " food on the stage " Johnny " Toole's story of Tiny
Tim and the goose Pages 246-259
CHAPTER XXII
RESTORATIVES
William of Normandy A " head " wind at sea Beware the
druggist Pick-me-ups of all sorts and conditions Anchovy
toast for the invalid A small bottle Straight talks to
fanatics Total abstinence as bad as the other thing
Moderation in all matters Wisely and slow Ca/pe diem
But have a thought for the morrow . . . 260-274
CHAPTER I
BREAKFAST
" The day breaks slow, but e'en must man break-fast."
Formal or informal? An eccentric old gentleman The
ancient Britons Breakfast in the days of Good Queen
Bess A few tea statistics " Garraway's " Something
about coffee Brandy for breakfast The evolution of the
staff of life Free Trade The cheap loaf, and no cash to
buy it.
THIS is a very serious subject. The first meal
of the day has exercised more influence over
history than many people may be aware of. It
is not easy to preserve an equal mind or keep a
stiff upper lip upon an empty stomach ; and in-
digestible food-stuffs have probably lost more
battles than sore feet and bad ammunition. It
is an incontestable fact that the great Napoleon
lost the battles of Borodino and Leipsic through
eating too fast.
When good digestion waits on appetite, great
men are less liable to commit mistakes and a
mistake in a great man is a crime than when
dyspepsia has marked them for her own ; and
this rule applies to all men.
There should be no hurry or formality about
CAKES AND ALE
breakfast. Your punctual host and hostess may
be all very well from their own point of view ;
but black looks and sarcastic welcomings are an
abomination to the guest who may have overslept
himself or herself, and who fails to say, " Good-
morning " just on the stroke of nine o'clock.
Far be it from the author's wish to decry the
system of family prayers, although the spectacle
of the full strength of the domestic company,
from the stern-featured housekeeper, or the chief
lady's-maid (the housekeeper is frequently too
grand, or too much cumbered with other duties
to attend public worship), to the diminutive page-
boy, standing all in a row, facing the cups and
saucers, is occasionally more provocative of mirth
than reverence. But too much law and order
about fast-breaking is to be deplored.
" I'm not very punctual, I'm afraid, Sir John,"
I once heard a very charming lady observe to her
host, as she took her seat at the table, exactly ten
minutes after the line of menials had filed out.
"On the contrary, Lady V " returned the
master of the house, with a cast-iron smile, " you
are punctual in your unpunctuality ; for you have
missed prayers by the sixth part of one hour,
every morning since you came." Now what
should be done to a host like that ?
In the long ago I was favoured with the
acquaintance of an elderly gentleman of property,
a most estimable, though eccentric, man. And
he invariably breakfasted with his hat on. It did
not matter if ladies were present or not. Down
he would sit, opposite the ham and eggs or
whatever dish it might chance to be with a
BREAKFAST 3
white hat, with mourning band attached, sur-
mounting his fine head. We used to think the
presence of the hat was owing to partial baldness ;
but, as he never wore it at luncheon or dinner,
that idea was abandoned. In fact, he pleaded that
the hat kept his thoughts in ; and as after break-
fast he was closeted with his steward, or agent,
or stud-groom, or keeper, for several hours, he
doubtless let loose some of those thoughts to one
or the other. At all events we never saw him
again till luncheon, unless there was any hunt-
ing or shooting to be done.
This same old gentleman once rehearsed his
own funeral on the carriage drive outside, and
stage-managed the solemn ceremony from his
study window. An under-gardener pushed a
wheelbarrow, containing a box of choice cuttings,
to represent the body ; and the butler posed as
chief mourner. And when anybody went
wrong, or the pall-bearers six grooms failed to
keep in step, the master would throw up the
window-sash, and roar
" Begin again ! "
But this is wandering from the subject. Let
us try back.
Having made wide search amongst old and
musty manuscripts, I can find no record of a
bill-of-fare of the first meal of the ancient
Britons. Our blue forefathers, in all probability,
but seldom assisted at any such smart function as
a wedding-breakfast, or even a hunting one ;
for the simple reason that it was a case with
them of, "no hunt, no breakfast." Unless one
or other had killed the deer, or the wild-boar, or
4 CAKES AND ALE
some other living thing to furnish the refection
the feast was a Barmecide one, and much as we
have heard of the strength and hardiness of our
blue forefathers, many of them must have died of
sheer starvation. For they had no weapons but
clubs, and rough cut flints, with which to kill
the beasts of the country who were, however,
occasionally lured into pitfalls ; and as to fish,
unless they " tickled " them, the denizens of the
streams must have had an easy time of it. They
had sheep, but these were valuable chiefly on
account of their wool ; as used to be the case in
Australia, ere the tinned meat trade was estab-
lished. Most of the fruits and vegetables which
we enjoy to-day were introduced into Britain
by the Romans. Snipe and woodcock and (in
the north) grouse may have been bagged, as well
as hares. But these poor savages knew not
rabbits by sight, nor indeed, much of the feathered
fowl which their more favoured descendants are
in the habit of shooting, or otherwise destroying,
for food. The ancient Britons knew not bacon
and eggs, nor the toothsome kipper, nor yet the
marmalade of Dundee. As for bread, it was not
invented in any shape or form until much later ;
and its primitive state was a tough paste of flour,
water, and (occasionally) milk something like
the "damper" of the Australian bush, or the
unleavened chupati which the poorer classes in
Hindustan put up with, after baking it, at the
present day.
The hardy, independent Saxon, had a much
better time of it, in the way of meat and drink.
But with supper forming the chief meal of the
BREAKFAST 5
day, his breakfast was a simple, though plentiful
one, and consisted chiefly of venison pasty and
the flesh of goats, washed down with ale, or
mead.
"A free breakfast-table of Elizabeth's time,"
says an old authority, "or even during the more
recent reign of Charles II., would contrast oddly
with our modern morning meal. There were
meats, hot and cold j beef and brawn, and boar's
head, the venison pasty, and the
Pardon Pie
of west country pears. There was hot bread,
too, and sundry ' cates ' which would now be
strange to our eyes. But to wash down these
substantial viands there was little save ale. The
most delicate lady could procure no more suitable
beverage than the blood of John Barleycorn.
The most fretful invalid had to be content
with a mug of small beer, stirred up with a sprig
of rosemary. Wine, hippocras, and metheglin
were potations for supper-time, not for breakfast,
and beer reigned supreme. None but home pro-
ductions figured on the board of our ancestors.
Not for them were seas traversed, or tropical
shores visited, as for us. Yemen and Ceylon,
Assam and Cathay, Cuba and Peru, did not send
daily tribute to their tables, and the very names
of tea and coffee, of cocoa and chocolate, were
to them unknown. The dethronement of ale,
subsequent on the introduction of these eastern
products, is one of ^he most marked events which
have severed the social life of the present day from
that of the past."
6 CAKES AND ALE
With the exception of the Wardon pie and
the " cates," the above bill-of-fare would probably
satisfy the cravings of the ordinary "Johnny" of
to-day, who has heard the chimes at midnight,
and would sooner face a charging tiger than
drink tea or coffee with his first meal, which,
alas ! but too often consists of a hot -pickle
sandwich and a "brandy and soda," with not
quite all the soda in. But just imagine the fine
lady of to-day with a large tankard of Burton
ale facing her at the breakfast-table.
which is said to have been introduced into China
by Djarma, a native of India, about A.D. 500,
was not familiar in Europe until the end of the
sixteenth century. And it was not until 1657,
when Garraway opened a tea-house in Exchange
Alley, that Londoners began tea-drinking as an
experiment. In 1662 Pepys writes
" Home, and there find my wife making of
tea" two years before, he called it "tee (a
China drink)" "a drink which Mr. Felling the
Pothicary tells her is good for her cold and
defluxions."
In 1740 the price of tea ranged from 75. to
245. per Ib. In 1725, 370,323 Ibs. were drunk
in England, and in 1890, 194,008,000. In
1840 the duty was 2s. 2^d. per Ib. ; in 1858
is. 5d. per Ib. ; and in 1890 4d. per Ib.
'I 'he seed of
The Coffee-Tree^
which, when roasted, ground, and mixed with
water, and unmixed with horse-beans, dandelion-
BREAKFAST 7
root, or road-scrapings, forms a most agreeable
beverage to those who can digest it, was not
known to the Greeks or Romans, but has been
used in Abyssinia and along the north-east coast
of Africa almost as long as those parts have been
populated. Here, in merry England, where
coffee was not introduced until the eighteenth
century, it was at first used but sparingly, untii
it almost entirely took the place of chocolate,
which was the favoured beverage of the duchesses
and fine madams who minced and flirted, and
plotted, during the reign of the Merry Monarch,
fifty years or so before. The march of know-
ledge has taught the thrifty housewife of to-day
to roast her own coffee, instead of purchasing it
in that form from the retail shopkeeper, who, as
a rule, under-roasts the berry, in order to " keep
the weight in." But do not blame him too
freely, for he is occasionally a Poor Law Guardian,
and has to " keep pace with the Stores."
During the Georgian era, the hard-drinking
epoch, breakfast far too often consisted chiefly
of French brandy ; and the first meal was, in
consequence, not altogether a happy or whole-
some one, nor conducive to the close study of
serious subjects.
The history of
The Staff of Life*
would require a much larger volume than this,
all to itself. That the evolution of bread-making
has been very gradual admits of no denial ; and
1 It is incorrect to speak of bread as the sole " staff of life."
Eggs, milk, cheese, potatoes, and some other vegetables, supply
8 CAKES AND ALE
as late as the Tudor and Stuart periods the art
was still in its infancy. The quality of the
bread consumed was a test of social standing.
Thus, whilst the haut monde, the height of
society, lords and dukes, with countesses and
dames of high degree, were in the habit of
consuming delicate manchets, made of the finest
wheaten flour, of snowy purity, the middle classes
had to content themselves with white loaves of
inferior quality. To the journeyman and the
'prentice (who had to endure, with patience, the
buffets of master and mistress) was meted out
coarse but wholesome brown bread, made from
an admixture of wheat and barley flour ; whilst
the agricultural labourer staved ofF starvation
with loaves made from rye, occasionally mixed
with red wheat or barley. The introduction of
Free Trade
by no means an unmixed blessing has changed
all this j and the working-classes, with their wives
and families, can, when out of the workhouse, in
the intervals between "strikes," enjoy the same
quality of bread, that "cheap loaf" which appears
on the table of the wicked squire and the all-
devouring parson. In Yorkshire, at the present day,
almost the worst thing that can be urged against
a woman is that she "canna mak' a bit o' bread."
"Just look," wrote an enthusiastic Free Trader,
a quarter of a century ago," at the immense change
between them far more phosphoric acid than is to be got from
bread, either white or brown. And a man could support
existence on " beer and baccy " as well as he could do so on bread
alone.
BREAKFAST 9
that has latterly taken place in the food of the
English peasantry. Rye bread and pease-pudding
exchanged for wheaten loaves. A startling
change, but not greatly different from what has
occurred in France, where, with the abuses of
the Bourbon rule, an end was put to the semi-
starvation of French tillers of the soil. Black
bread is now almost as much a rarity in France
as on our side of the Channel ; while barley in
Wales, oats in Scotland, and the potato in Ireland,
are no longer the food-staples that they were."
I have no wish for anything of a contentious
nature to appear in this volume ; but may deliver,
with regard to the above, the opinion that pease-
pudding is by no means despicable fare, when
associated with a boiled leg of pork ; and I may
add that too many of the English peasantry,
nowadays, have been reduced, by this same Free
Trade, to a diet of no bread at all, in place of
wheaten, or any other loaves.
Wedding breakfasts, with the formal speeches,
and cutting of the cake, have gone out of fashion,
and the subject of the British breakfast of to-day
demands a new chapter.
CHAPTER II
BREAKFAST (continued]
M Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table."
Country-house life An Englishwoman at her best Guests'
comforts What to eat at the first meal A few choice
recipes A noble grill-sauce The poor outcast Appetising
dishes Hotel "worries" The old regime and the new
"No cheques"} no soles, and "whitings is hofF" A
halibut steak Skilly and oakum Breakfast out of the
rates.
BY far the pleasantest meal of the day at a large
country-house is breakfast. You will be staying
there, most likely, an you be a man, for hunting
or shooting it being one of the eccentric dis-
pensations of the great goddess Fashion that
country-houses should be guestless, and often
ownerless, during that season of the year when
nature looks at her loveliest. An you be a
woman, you will be staying there for the especial
benefit of your daughter ; for flirting or for
the more serious purpose of riveting the fetters
of the fervid youth who may have been taken
captive during the London season for romping,
and probably shooting and hunting, too ; for lovely
BREAKFAST n
woman up-to-date takes but little account of such
frivolities as Berlin wool-work, piano-practice,
or drives, well wrapped-up, in a close carriage,
to pay calls with her hostess. As for going out
with the " guns," or meeting the sterner sex at
luncheon in the keeper's cottage, or the specially-
erected pavi^on, the darlings are not content,
nowadays, unless they can use dapper little
breechloaders, specially made for them, and some
of them are far from bad shots.
Yes, 'tis a pleasant function, breakfast at the
Castle, the Park, or the Grange. But, as observed
in the last chapter, there must be no undue
punctuality, no black looks at late arrivals, no
sarcastic allusions to late hours, nor inane chaff
from the other guests about the wine cup or the
whisky cup, which may have been drained in the
smoking-room, during the small hours.
Her ladyship looks divine, or at all events
regal, as she presides at what our American
cousins would call the " business end " of the
long table, whilst our host, a healthy, jolly-
looking, "hard-bitten" man of fifty, faces her.
His bright keen eye denotes the sportsman, and
he can shoot as straight as ever, whilst no fence
is too high, too wide, nor too deep for him.
Sprinkled about, at either side of the table,
amongst the red and black coats, or shooting
jackets of varied hues with a vacancy here and
there, for " Algie" and Bill," and the "Angel,"
who have not yet put in appearance are
smart, fresh-looking women, young, and "well-
preserved," and matronly, some in tailor-made
frocks, and some in the silks and velvets suited
c
i* CAKES AND ALE
for those of riper age, and some in exquisitely-
fitting habits. It is at the breakfast-table that the
Englishwoman can defy all foreign competition ;
and you are inclined to frown, or even say things
under your breath, when that mincing, wicked-
looking little Marquise^ all frills, and ribbons,
and lace, and smiles, and Ess Bouquet, in the
latest creation of the first man-milliner of Paris,
trips into the room in slippers two sizes too
small for her, and salutes the company at large in
broken English. For the contrast is somewhat
trying, and you wonder why on earth some
women will smother themselves with scents and
cosmetiqueS) and raddle their cheeks and wear
diamonds so early in the morning ; and you lose
all sense of the undoubted fascination of the
Marquise in speculating as to what manner of
cc strong woman " her femme de chambre must be
who can compress a 22-inch waist into an 18-
inch corset.
There should, of course, be separate tea and
coffee equipments for most of the guests at all
events for the sluggards. The massive silver
urn certainly lends a tone to the breakfast-table,
and looks "comfortable-like." But it would be
criminally cruel to satisfy the thirst of the multi-
tude out of the same tea-pot or coffee-pot ; and
the sluggard will not love his hostess if she pours
forth "husband's tea," merely because he is a
sluggard. And remember that the hand which
has held two by honours, or a " straight flush "
the night before, is occasionally too shaky to pass
tea-cups. No. Do not spare your servants, my
lord, or my lady. Your guests must be "well
BREAKFAST 13
done," or they will miss your " rocketing "
pheasants, or fail to go fast enough at that brook
with the rotten banks.
" The English," said an eminent alien, " have
only one sauce." This is a scandalous libel ; but
as it was said a long time ago it doesn't matter.
It would be much truer to say that the English
have only one breakfast-dish, and its name is
Eggs and Bacon.
Pardon, I should have written two ; and the
second is ham and eggs. A new-laid egg
poached, not fried, an ye love me, O Betsy, best
of cooks and a rasher of home-cured hog are
both excellent things in their way ; but, like a
partridge, a mother-in-law, and a baby, it is quite
possible to have too much of them. The
English hostess I do not refer to the typical
"her ladyship," of whom I have written above,
but to the average hostess certainly launches
out occasionally in the direction of assorted fish,
kidneys, sausages, and chops, but the staple food
upon which we are asked to break our fast is,
undoubtedly, eggs and bacon.
The great question of what to eat at the first
meal depends greatly upon whether you sit down
to it directly you emerge from your bedroom, or
whether you have indulged in any sort of exercise
in the interim. After two or three hours
"amateur touting" on such a place as New-
market Heath, the sportsman is ready for any
sort of food, from a dish of liver and bacon to a
good, thick fat chop, or an underdone steak. I
have even attacked cold stewed eels (!) upon an
r* CAKES AND ALE
occasion when the pangs of hunger would have
justified my eating the tom-cat, and the land-
lady as well. But chops and steaks are not to be
commended to furnish forth the ordinary break-
fast-table. I am coming to the hotel breakfast
presently, so will say nothing about fried fish
just yet. But here follows a list of a few of what
may be called
Allowable Breakfast Dishes
Mushrooms (done plainly in front of the fire),
sausages (toasted), scrambled eggs on toast,
curried eggs, fish balls, kidneys, savoury omelette.
Porridge may be useful for growing boys and
briefless barristers, but this chapter is not written
solely in their interests. Above all, do not, oh !
do not, forget the grill, or broil. This should be
the feature of the breakfast. Such simple recipes
as those for the manufacture of fish balls or
omelettes or curried eggs though I shall have
plenty to say about curries later on need not be
given here ; but the following, for a grill-sauce,
will be found invaluable, especially for the
"sluggard."
Gubbins Sauce
The legs and wings of fowl, turkey, pheasant,
partridge, or moor-hen should only be used. Have
these scored across with a sharp knife, and divided
at the joints. And when your grill is taken, " hot
as hot," but net burnt, from the fire, have poured
over it the following sauce. Be very particular
that your cook pours it over the grill just before it
is served up. And it is of the most vital importance
that the sauce should be made, and well mixed, on
BREAKFAST 15
a plate over hot water for instance, a slop-basin
should be filled with boiling water and a plate
placed atop.
Melt on the plate a lump of butter the size of a
large walnut. Stir into it, when melted, two tea-
spoonfuls of made mustard, then a dessert-spoonful
of vinegar, half that quantity of tarragon vinegar,
and a table-spoonful of cream Devonshire or
English. Season with salt, black pepper, and
cayenne, according to the (presumed) tastes and
requirements of the breakfasters.
Let your sideboard it is assumed that you
have a sideboard sigh and lament its hard lot,
under its load of cold joints, game, and pies,
I am still harping on the country-house ; and
if you have a York ham in cut, it should be
flanked by a Westphalian ditto. For the blend
is a good one. And remember that no York
ham under 2olb. in weight is worth cutting.
You need not put it all on the board at once.
A capital adjunct to the breakfast-table, too, is a
reindeer's tongue, which, as you see it hung up in
the shops, looks more like a policeman's truncheon
in active employment than anything else ; but
when well soaked and then properly treated in
the boiling, is very tasty, and will melt like
marrow in the mouth.
A simple, excellent August breakfast can be
made from a dish of freshly-caught trout, the legs
and back of a cold grouse, which has been roasted,
not baked, and
A Large Peach.
But what of the wretched bachelor, as he
16 CAKES AND ALE
enters his one sitting-room, in his humble lodg-
ing ? He may have heard the chimes at mid-
night, in some gay and festive quarter, or, like
some other wretched bachelors, he may have
been engaged in the composition of romances
for some exacting editor, until the smallish
hours. Poor outcast ! what sort of appetite will
he have for the rusty rasher, or the shop egg, the
smoked haddock, or the " Billingsgate pheasant,"
which his landlady will presently send up, to-
gether with her little account, for his refection ?
Well, here is a much more tasty dish than any
of the above ; and if he be "square" with Mrs.
Bangham, that lady will possibly not object to
her "gal" cooking the different ingredients
before she starts at the wash-tub. But let not
the wretched bachelor suffer the " gal " to mix
them.
I first met this dish in Calcutta during the
two months of (alleged) cold weather which
prevail during the year.
Calcutta Jumble.
A few fried fillets of white fish (sole, or plaice
sole for choice), placed on the top of some boiled
rice, in a soup plate. Pour over them the yolks of
two boiled eggs, and mix in one green chili, chopped
fine. Salt to taste.
" Another way : "
Mix with the rice the following ingredients :
The yolks of two raw eggs, one table-spoonful
anchovy sauce, one small teaspoonful curry powder
(raw), a sprinkling of cayenne, a little salt, and one
green chili chopped fine. Each ingredient to be
BREAKFAST 17
added separately, and the eggs and curry powder to
be stirred into the rice with a fork. Fillets of sole
to be served atop.
How many cooks in this England of ours can
cook rice properly ? Without pausing for a
reply, I append the recipe, which should be
pasted on the wall of every kitchen. The many
cookery books which I have read give elaborate
directions for the performance of what is a very
simple duty. Here it is, in a few lines
To cook Rice for Curry^ etc.
Soak a sufficiency of rice in cold water for two
hours. Strain through a sieve, and pop the rice into
boiling water. Let it boil " gallop " is, I believe,
the word used in most kitchens for not quite ten
minutes (or until the rice is tender), then strain off
the water through a sieve, and dash a little cold
water over the rice, to separate the grains.
Here is another most appetising breakfast
dish for the springtime
Asparagus with Eggs.
Cut up two dozen (or so) heads of cooked
asparagus into small pieces, and mix in a stewpan
with the well -beaten yolks of two raw eggs.
Flavour with pepper and salt, and stir freely. Add
a piece of butter the size of a walnut (one of these
should be kept in every kitchen as a pattern), and
keep on stirring for a couple of minutes or so.
Serve on delicately-toasted bread.
An Hotel Breakfast.
What memories do these words conjure up of
a snug coffee-room, hung with hunting prints.
ig CAKES AND ALE
and portraits of Derby winners, and churches,
and well-hung game ; with its oak panellings,
easy arm-chairs, blazing fire, snowy naperies,
and bright silver. The cheery host, with well-
lined paunch, and fat, wheezy voice, which
wishes you good-morning, and hopes you have
passed a comfortable night between the lavender-
scented sheets. The fatherly interest which
" William," the grey - headed waiter, takes in
you stranger or habitue and the more than
fatherly interest which you take in the good
cheer, from home-made " sassingers " to new-laid
eggs, and heather honey, not forgetting a slice
out of the mammoth York ham, beneath whose
weight the old sideboard absolutely grunts.
Heigho ! we, or they, have changed all that.
The poet who found his " warmest welcome in
an inn " was, naturally enough, writing of his
own time. I don't like fault-finding, but must
needs declare that the "warmest" part of an
inn welcome to be found nowadays is the bill.
As long as you pay it (or have plenty of luggage
to leave behind in default), and make yourself
agreeable to the fair and haughty bookkeeper
(if it's a "she") who allots you your bedroom,
and bullies the pageboy, nobody in the modern
inn cares particularly what becomes of you. You
lose your individuality, and become " Number
325." Instead of welcome, distrust lurks, large,
on the very threshold.
"No Cheques Accepted"
is frequently the first announcement to catch the
eye of the incoming guest ; and although you
BREAKFAST 19
cannot help admiring the marble pillars, the oak
carving, the gilding, the mirrors, and the electric
light, an uncomfortable feeling comes over you
at meal times, to the effect that the cost of the
decorations, or much of it, is taken out of the
food.
" Waiter," you ask, as soon as your eyes and
ears get accustomed to the incessant bustle of
the coffee-room, and your nostrils to the savour
of last night's soup, " what can I have for
breakfast ? "
"What would you like, sir ? "
"I should like a grilled sole, to begin with."
" Very sorry, sir, soles is hoff get you a nice
chop or steak."
"Can't manage either so early in the day.
Got any whitings ? "
"Afraid we're out of whitings, sir, but I'll
see."
Eventually, after suggesting sundry delicacies,
all of which are either "hoff," or unknown to
the waiter, you settle down to the consumption
of two fried and shrivelled shop eggs, on an
island of Chicago ham, floating in an ^Egean Sea
of grease and hot water ; whilst a half quartern
loaf, a cruet-stand the size of a cathedral, a
rackful of toast of the " Zebra " brand, and about
two gallons of (alleged) coffee, are dumped down
in succession in front of you.
There are, of course, some hostelries where
they "do" you better than this, but my ex-
perience of hotel breakfasts at this end of the
nineteenth century has not been encouraging,
either to appetite or temper ; and I do vow and
20 CAKES AND ALE
protest that the above picture is not too highly
coloured.
The toothsome, necessary bloater is not often
to be met with on the hotel's bill-of-fare ; but,
if soft roed use no other it will repay perusal.
Toast it in a Dutch oven in front of a clear fire,
and just before done split it up the back, and put
a piece of butter on it. The roe should be well
plumped, and of the consistency of Devonshire
cream. A grilled sole for breakfast is preferable
to a fried one, principally because it is by no
means impossible that the fried sole be second-
hand, or as the French call it rechauffe. And
why, unless directions to the contrary be given,
is the modest whiting invariably placed, tail in
mouth, on the frying pan ? A grilled whiting
assassinate your cook an she (or he) scorches
it is one of the noblest works of the kitchen, and
its exterior should be of a golden brown colour.
Do not forget to order sausages for breakfast if
you are staying at Newmarket ; there is less
bread in them than in the Metropolitan brand.
And when in Lincoln attempt a
Halibut Steak,
of which you may not have previously heard.
The halibut should, previous to grilling or frying
in salad 0/7, be placed on a shallow dish and
sprinkled with salt. Then the dish should be
half filled with water, which must not cover the
salt. Leave the fish to soak for an hour, then
cut into slices, nearly an inch thick, without
removing the skin. Sprinkle some lemon juice
and cayenne over the steaks before serving.
BREAKFAST 21
If you wish to preserve an even mind, and be
at peace with the world, a visit to
The Hotel Parish
is not to be recommended. The Irish stew at
dinner is not bad in its way, though coarse, and
too liberally endowed with fat. But the break-
fasts ! Boiled oatmeal and water, with salt in
the mess, and a chunk of stale brown bread to
eat therewith, do not constitute an altogether
satisfactory meal, the first thing in the morning ;
and it is hardly calculated to inspire him with
much pride in his work, when the guest is placed
subsequently before his " task " of unbroken flints
or tarred rope.
CHAPTER III
BREAKFAST (continued)
** There's nought in the Highlands but syboes and leeks,
And lang-leggit callants gaun wanting the breeks."
Bonnie Scotland Parritch an' cream Fin'an haddies A knife
on the ocean wave A la Fran^ais In the gorgeous East
Ciiota haxri English as she is spoke Dak bungalow fare
Some quaint dishes Breakfast with "my tutor" A
Don's absence of mind.
FOR a "warm welcome" commend me to Bonnie
Scotland. Though hard of head and " sae fu* o'
learning " that they are " owre deeficult to con-
veence, ye ken," these rugged Caledonians be
tender of heart, and philanthropic to a degree.
Hech, sirs ! but 'tis the braw time ye'll hae, gin
ye trapese the Highlands, an' the Lowlands as
well for the matter o' that in search o' guid
refreshment for body an' soul.
Even that surly lexicographer, Doctor Samuel
Johnson (who, by the way, claimed the same
city for his birthplace as does the writer), who
could not be induced to recognise the merits of
Scotch scenery, and preferred Fleet Street to
BREAKFAST 33
the Trossachs, extolled the luxury vf a Scotch
breakfast above that of all other countiies. And
Sir Walter Scott, who never enthused much about
meat and drink, is responsible in Waverley for
a passage calculated to make the mouths of most
people water :
"He found Miss Bradwardine presiding over
the tea and coffee, the table loaded with warm
bread, both of flour, oatmeal, and barley meal, in
the shape of loaves, cakes, biscuits, and other
varieties, together with eggs, reindeer ham,
mutton and beef ditto, smoked salmon, and
many other delicacies. A mess of oatmeal
porridge, flanked by a silver jug which held an
equal mixture of cream and buttermilk, was
placed for the Baron's share of the repast."
"And," as Mr. Samuel Weller would have
observed, " a wery good idea of a breakfast, too."
A beef-ham sounds like a "large order" for
breakfast, even when we come to consider that
the Scotch " beastie," in Sir Walter Scott's time,
was wanting in " beam " and stature. I have
seen and partaken of a ham cut from a Yorkshire
pig, and weighing 52 Ibs. ; but even a Scotch
beef- ham must have topped that weight con-
siderably. Fortunately the sideboards of those
times were substantial of build.
Missing from the above bill-of-fare is the
haddock,
The Firfan Haddie^
a bird which at that period had probably not been
invented. But the modern Scottish breakfast-
table is not properly furnished without it. The
H CAKES AND ALE
genuine " Fin'an " is known by its appetising
savour and by its colour a creamy yellow, which
is totally distinct from the Vandyke browny hue
of the haddock which is creosoted in the neigh-
bourhood of the Blackfriars Road, London, S.E.
"Strip off the skin," says the recipe in one cookery
book, "and broil before the fire or over a quick
clear one." Another way my way-^ is not to
strip off the skin and to steam your haddies.
Place them in a dish which has been previously
heated. Throw boiling water on them, and
cover closely with a plate ; place on a hot stove,
and in from 10 to 15 minutes the Fin'ans will
be accomplished. Drain, and serve hot as hot,
buttered, with a sprinkling of cayenne, and, may-
be, a dash of Worcester sauce.
Salmon is naturally a welcome guest at the
table of the land of his birth, served fresh when
in season, and smoked or kippered at all times.
A Salmon Steak
with the " curd " between the flakes, placed
within a coat of virgin-white paper (oiled) and
grilled for 15 minutes or so, is an excellent
breakfast dish. A fry of small troutlets, a ditto
of the deer's interior economy -Mem. When up
at the death of a hunted stag, always beg or
annex a portion of his liver are also common
dishes at the first meaj>>erved by the"gudewife";
and I once met a cold haggis at 9.30 A.M. But
this, I rather fancy, was "a wee bit joke " at my
expense. Anyhow I shall have plenty to say
about the " great chieftain o* the puddin' race "
in a later chapter.
BREAKFAST 25
Off to Gold-land!
Those that go down to the sea in ships, and
can summon up sufficient presence of mind to
go down to the saloon at meal times, have far
from a bad time of it. Living was certainly
better on the ocean wave in the days when live-
stock was kept on board, and slaughtered as
required ; for the effect of keeping beef, pork,
and mutton in a refrigerating chamber for any
length of time is to destroy the flavour, and
to render beef indistinguishable from the flesh of
the hog, and mutton as tasteless as infantine pap.
But the ship's galley does its little utmost ; and
the saloon passenger, on his way to the other side
of the equator, may regale himself with such a
breakfast as the following, which is taken from
the steward's book of a vessel belonging to the
Union Line :
Porridge, fillets of haddock with fine herbs, mutton
chops and chip potatoes, savoury omelet, bacon on
toast, minced collops, curry and rice, fruit, rolls,
toast, etc., tea and coffee.
Cannot my readers imagine a steward entering
the state-room of the voyager who has succumbed
to the wiles, and eccentricities of the Bay of
Biscay, with the observation: "Won't you get
up to breakfast, sir ? I've reserved a beautiful fat
chop, with chips, o' purpose for you, sir."
And the lot of the third-class passenger who
is conveyed from his native land to the Cape of
Good Hope, for what Mr. Montague Tigg would
have called "the ridiculous sum of" 16 : i6s.,
*6 CAKES AND ALE
is no such hard one, seeing that he is allotted a
" bunk " in a compact, though comfortable cabin,
and may break his fast on the following substan-
tial meal :
Porridge, Yarmouth bloaters, potatoes, American
hash, grilled mutton, bread and butter, tea or coffee.
An American breakfast is as variegated (and I
fear I must add, as indigestible) as a Scotch one ;
and included in the bill of fare are as many, or
more, varieties of bread and cake as are to be
found in the land o' shortbread. The writer has,
in New York, started the morning meal with
oysters, run the gamut of fish, flesh, and fowl,
and wound up with buckwheat cakes, which are
brought on in relays, buttered and smoking hot,
and cap be eaten with or without golden syrup.
BuU *3 business begins early in New York and
other large cities, scant attention is paid to the
first meal by the merchant and the speculator,
who are wont to " gallop " through breakfast and
luncheon, and to put in their " best work " at
dinner.
A Mediterranean Breakfast
is not lacking in poetry ; and the jaded denizen
of Malta can enjoy red mullet (the "woodcock
of the sea " ) freshly taken from the tideless
ocean, and strawberries in perfection, at his first
meal, whilst seated, maybe, next to some dreamy-
eyed hourl^ who coos soft nothings into his ear,
at intervals. The wines of Italy go best with
this sort of repast, which is generally eaten with
" spoons."
BREAKFAST i-j
In fair France, breakfast, or the dejeuner a la
fourchette, is not served until noon, or thereabouts.
Coffee or chocolate, with fancy bread and butter,
is on hand as soon as you wake ; and I have
heard that for the roysterer and the ftlt creve
there be such liquors as cognac, curafoa, and
chartreuse verte provided at the first meal, so
that nerves can be strung together and headaches
alleviated before the " associated " breakfast at
mid-day. In the country, at the chateau of
Monsieur et Madame, the groom-of-the-chambers,
or maitre d'hotel, as he is designated, knocks at
your bedroom door at about 8.30.
"Who's there?"
" Good-morning, M^sieu. Will M'sieu partake
of the chocolat, or of the cafe-au-lait, or of the
tea ? "
Upon ordinary occasions, M^sieu will partake of
the chocolat if he be of French extraction ;
whilst the English visitor will partake of the
tafe-au-lait tea-making in France being still in
its infancy. And if M'sieu has gazed too long on
the wine of the country, overnight, he will occa-
sionally reprobate that he is partake instead of
the vteux cognac, diluted from the syphon. And
IWsleu never sees his host or hostess till the
" assembly " sounds for the mid-day meal.
I have alluded, just above, to French tea-
making. There was a time when tea, with our
lively neighbours, was as scarce a commodity as
snakes in Iceland or rum punch in Holloway
Castle. Then the thin end of the wedge was
introduced, and the English visitor was invited to
partake of a cup of what was called (by courtesy)
D
18 CAKES AND ALE
the, which had been concocted expressly for her
or him. And tea a la Fran^aise used to be
made somewhat after this fashion. The cup was
half- filled with milk, sugar a discretion being
added. A little silver sieve was next placed over the
cup, and from a jug sufficient hot water, in which
had been previously left to soak some half-dozen
leaf-fragments of green tea, to fill the cup, was
poured forth. In fact the visitor was invited to
drink a very nasty compound indeed, something
like the "wish" tea with which the school-
mistress used to regale her victims milk and
water, and " wish-you-may-get " tea ! But they
have changed all that across the Channel, and
five o'clock tea is one of the most fashionable
functions of the day, with the beau monde ; a
favourite invitation of the society belle of the Jin de
siecle being : u Voulez-vous fivoclocquer avec moi ? "
The dejeuner usually begins with a consomme^ a
thin, clear, soup, not quite adapted to stave oft
the pangs of hunger by itself, but grateful enough
by way of a commencement. Then follows an
array of dishes containing fish and fowl of sorts,
with the inevitable cotelettes a la somebody-or-
other, not forgetting an omelette a mess which
the French cook alone knows how to concoct to
perfection. The meal is usually washed down
with some sort of claret ; and a subsequent cafe^
with the accustomed chasse ; whilst the welcome
cigarette is not " defended," even in the mansions
of the great.
There is more than one way of making coffee,
that of the lodging-house " general," and of the
street- stall dispenser^ during the small hours,
BREAKFAST 29
being amongst the least commendable. Without
posing as an infallible manufacturer of the re-
freshing (though indigestible, to many people)
beverage, I would urge that it be made from
freshly-roasted seed, ground just before wanted.
Then heat the ground coffee in the oven, and
place upon the perforated bottom of the upper
compartment of a cafettere^ put the strainer on
it, and pour in boiling water, gradually. <c The
Duke" in Genevieve de Brabant used to warble
as part of a song in praise of tea
And 'tis also most important
That you should not spare the tea.
So is it of equal importance that you should
not spare the coffee. There are more elaborate
ways of making coffee ; but none that the writer
has tried are in front of the old cafeture^ if the
simple directions given above be carried out in
their entirety.
As in France, sojourners (for their sins) in
the burning plains of Ind have their first break-
fast, or chota hazri, at an early hour, whilst the
breakfast proper usually described in Lower
Bengal, Madras, and Bombay as " tiffin " comos
later on. For
Chota Hazrl
(literally "little breakfast") which is served
either at the Mess-house, the public Bath, or in
one's own bungalow, beneath the verandah
poached eggs on toast are de rigueur^ whilst I have
met such additions as unda tshcamble (scrambled
eggs), potato cake, and (naughty, naughty ! )
3 o CAKES AND ALE
anchovy toast. Tea or coffee are always drunk
with this meal. " Always," have I written ?
Alas ! In my mind's eye I can see the poor
Indian vainly trying to stop the too-free flow of
the Eelati pani (literally "Europe water") by
thrusting a dusky thumb into the neck of the
just-opened bottle, and in my mind's ear can I
catch the blasphemous observation of the subaltern
as he remarks to his slave that he does not require,
in his morning's " livener," the additional flavour
jf Mahommedan flesh, and the " hubble-bubble "
pipe, the tobacco in which may have been
stirred by the same thumb that morning.
" Coffee shop " is a favourite function, during
the march of a regiment in India, at least it used
to be in the olden time, before troops were
conveyed by railway. Dhoolies (roughly made
palanquins) laden with meat and drink were
sent on half way, overnight ; and grateful indeed
was the cup of tea, or coffee, or the " peg "
which was poured forth for the weary warrior
who had been " tramping it " or in the saddle
since 2 A.M. or some such unearthly hour, in
order that the column might reach the new
camping-ground before the sun was high in the
heavens. It was at "coffee-shop" that "chaff"
reigned supreme, and speculations as to what the
shooting would be like at the next place were
indulged in. And when that shooting was likely
to fake the form of long men, armed with long
guns, and long knives, the viands, which con-
sisted for the most part of toast, biscuits, poached
eggs, and unda bakum (eggs and bacon), were
devoured with appetites all the keener for the
BREAKFAST 31
prospect in view. It is in troublous times, be
it further observed, that the Hindustan khit i:
seen at his best. On the field of battle itself I
have known coffee and boiled eggs or even a
grilled fowl produced by the fearless and devoted
nokhur, from, apparently, nowhere at all.
At the Indian breakfast proper, all sorts ot
viands are consumed j from the curried prawns
and Europe provisions (which arrive in an her-
metically sealed condition per s.s. Nomattawot\
to the rooster who heralds your arrival at the
dak bungalow, with much crowing, and who
within half an hour of your advent has been
successively chased into a corner, beheaded,
plucked, and served up for your refection in a
scorched state. I have breakfasted off such
assorted food as curried locusts, boiled leg of
mutton, fried snipe, Europe sausages, Iron ishtoo
(Irish stew), vi/olif(veal olives, and more correctly
a dinner dish), kidney toast chopped sheep s
kidneys, highly seasoned with pepper, lime-juice,
and Worcester sauce, very appetising parrot
pie, eggs and bacon, omelette (which might also
have been used to patch ammunition boots with),
sardines, fried fish (mind the bones of the Asiatic
fish), blfishtake (beef steak), goat chops, curries
of all sorts, hashed venison, and roast peafowl,
ditto quail, ditto pretty nearly everything that
flies, cold buffalo hump, grilled sheep's tail (a
bit bilious), hermetically -sealed herring, turtle
fins, Guava jelly, preserved mango, home-made
cake, and many other things which have escaped
memory. I am coming to the " curry " part of
the entertainment later on in the volume, but
3z CAKES AND ALE
may remark that it is preferable when eaten in
the middle of the day. My own experience was
that few people touched curry when served in
its normal place at dinner as a course of itself
just before the sweets.
" Breakfast with my tutor ! " What happy
memories of boyhood do not the words conjure
up, of the usually stern, unbending preceptor
pouring out the coffee, and helping the sausages
and mashed potatoes we always had what is
now known as " saus and mash " at my tutor's
and the fatherly air with which he would remind
the juvenile glutton, who had seated himself just
opposite the apricot jam, and was improving the
occasion, that eleven o'clock school would be in
full swing in half an hour, and that the brain
and, by process of reasoning, the stomach) could
not be in too good working-order for the fervid
young student of Herodotus. The ordinary
breakfast of the " lower boy " at Eton used to be
of a very uncertain pattern. Indeed, what with
"fagging," the preparation of his lord-and-
master's breakfast, the preparation of " pupil-
room " work, and agile and acute scouts ever on
the alert to pilfer his roll and pat of butter, that
boy was lucky if he got any breakfast at all. If
he possessed capital, or credit, he might certainly
stave off starvation at " Brown's," with buttered
buns and pickled salmon ; or at " Webber's," or
"the Wall," with three-cornered jam tarts, or
a " strawberry mess " ; but Smith minor^ and
Jones minimus as often as not, went breakfastless
to second school.
At the University, breakfast with " the Head "
BREAKFAST 33
or any other "Don" was a rather solemn function.
The table well and plentifully laid, and the host
hospitality itself, but occasionally, nay, frequently,
occupied with other thoughts. A departed
friend used to tell a story of a breakfast of this
description. He was shaken warmly by the
hand by his host, who afterwards lapsed into
silence. My friend, to " force the running,"
ventured on the observation
" It's a remarkably fine morning, sir, is it
not ? "
No reply came. In fact, the great man's
thoughts were so preoccupied with Greek roots,
and other defunct horrors, that he spoke not a
word during breakfast. But when, an hour or
so afterwards, the time came for his guest to take
leave, the " Head " shook him by the hand
warmly once more, and remarked abstractedly
u D'you know, Mr. Johnson, I don't think
that was a particularly original remark of yours? "
CHAPTER IV
LUNCHEON
" Tis a custom
More honoured in the breach than the observance."
Why lunch? Sir Henry Thompson on overdoing it The
children's dinner City lunches Ye Olde Cheshyre Cheese
Doctor Johnson Ye pudding A great fall in food
A snipe pudding Skirt, not rumpsteak Lancashire hot
pot A Cape " brady."
"'MoRE honoured in the breach,' do you say,
Mr. Author ? " I fancy I hear some reader in-
quire. " Are these your sentiments ? Do you
really mean them ? " Well, perhaps, they ought
to be qualified. Unless a man breakfast very
early, and dine very late, he cannot do himself
much good by eating a square meal at 1.30 or
2.O P.M. There can be no question but that
whilst thousands of the lieges despite soup-
kitchens, workhouses, and gaols perish of
absolute starvation, as many of their more fortu-
nate brethren perish, in the course of time, from
gluttony, from falling down (sometimes literally)
and worshipping the Belly-god.
LUiNCHEON 35
Years ago Sir Henry Thompson observed to a
friend of the writer's :
" Most men who seek my advice are suffering
under one of two great evils eating too much
good food, or drinking too much bad liquor ; and
occasionally they suffer under both evils."
"This luncheon," writes Oliver Wendell
Holmes, " is a very convenient affair ; it does
not require any special dress ; it is informal ;
and can be light or heavy as one chooses."
The American the male American at all
events takes far more count of luncheon than
of breakfast.
But in many cases luncheon and early dinner
are synonymous terms. Take the family
luncheon, for instance, of the middle classes,
where mother, governess, and little ones all
assemble in front of the roast and boiled, at the
principal meal of the day, and the more or less
snowy tablecloth is duly anointed with gravy
by "poor baby," in her high chair, and the
youngest but one is slapped at intervals by his
instructress, for using his knife for the peas
at the risk of enlarging his mouth or for
swallowing the stones of the cherries which
have been dealt him, or her, from the tart.
This is not the sort of meal for the male friend
of the family to " drop in " at, if he value the
lappels of his new frock-coat, and be given to
blushing. For children have not only an evil
habit of " pawing " the visitor with jammy
fingers, * but occasionally narrate somewhat
" risky " anecdotes. And a child's ideas of
the Christian religion, nay, of the Creator
36 CAKES AND ALE
himself, are occasionally more quaint than
reverent.
"Ma, dear," once lisped a sweet little thing
of six, "what doth God have for hith dinner ? "
"S-sh-sh, my child!" replied the horrified
mother, "you must not ask such dreadful
questions. God doesn't want any dinner, re-
member that."
" Oh-h-h ! " continued the unabashed and
dissatisfied enfant terrible. And, after a pause,
" then I thuppose he hath an egg with hith tea."
In a country-house, of course, but few of the
male guests turn up at the domestic luncheon,
being otherwise engaged in killing something,
or in trying to kill something, or in that sport
which is but partially understood out of Great
Britain the pursuit of an evil-savoured animal
who is practically worthless to civilisation after
his capture and death.
It is in " the City " that vile man, perhaps,
puts in his best work as an eater of luncheons.
Some city men there be, of course poor,
wretched, half-starved clerks, whose state nobody
ever seems to attempt to ameliorate whose
mid-day refections are not such as would have
earned a meed of commendation from the late
Vitellius, or from the late Colonel North. For
said refections but seldom consist of more im-
portant items than a thick slice of bread and a
stale bloater ; or possibly a home-made sandwich
of bread and Dutch cheese the whole washed
down with a tumbler of milk, or more often a
tumbler of the fluid supplied by the New River
Company. During the winter months a penny-
LUNCHEON 37
worth of roasted chestnuts supplies a filling,
though indigestible meal to many a man
whose employer is swilling turtle at Birch's or
at the big house in Leadenhall Street, and
who is compelled, by the exigencies of custom,
to wear a decent black coat and some sort of
tall hat when on his way to and from
" business."
But the more fortunate citizens how do they
" do themselves " at luncheon ? For some there
is the cheap soup-house, or the chop-and-steak
house reviled of Dickens, and but kittle changed
since the time of the great novelist. Then, for
the " gilt-edged " division there is
Birch's,
the little green house which, although now
"run" by those eminent caterers, Messrs. Ring
and Brymer, is still known by the name of the
old Alderman who deserved so well of his
fellow citizens, and who, whilst a cordon bleu of
some celebrity, had also a pretty taste as a play-
wright. The old house has not changed one
jot, either in appearance, customs, or fare. At
the little counter on the ground floor may be
obtained the same cheesecakes, tartlets, baked
custards, and calf's-foot jellies which delighted
our grandfathers, and the same brand of Scottish
whisky. Upstairs, in the soup-rooms, some of
the tables are covered with damask tablecloths,
whilst at others a small square of napery but
partially obscures the view of the well-polished
mahogany.
3 8 CAKES AND ALE
Turtle Soup
is still served on silver plates, whilst the cheaper
juices of the bullock, the calf, and the pea,
"with the usual trimmings," repose temporarily
on china or earthenware. Pates, whether of
oyster, lobster, chicken, or veal-and-ham, are still
in favour with habitue and chance customer
alike, and no wonder, for these are something
like pates. The " filling " is kept hot like the
soups, in huge stewpans, on the range, and when
required is ladled out into a plate, and furnished
with top and bottom crust and such crust,
flaky and light to a degree ; and how different
to the confectioner's or railway-refreshment pate,
which, when an orifice be made in the covering
v/ith a pickaxe, reveals nothing more appetising
than what appear to be four small cubes of frost-
bitten indiarubber, with a portion or two of
candle end.
A more advanced meal is served in Leadenhall
Street, at
" The Ship and Turtle,"
said to be the oldest tavern in London, and
which has been more than once swept and
garnished, and reformed altogether, since its
establishment during the reign of King Richard
II. But they could have known but little about
the superior advantages offered by the turtle as
a life-sustainer, in those days ; whereas at the
present day some hundreds of the succulent
reptiles die the death on the premises, within a
month, in order that city companies, and stock-
brokers, and merchants of sorts, and mining
LUNCHEON 39
millionaires, and bicycle makers, and other
estimable people, may dine and lunch.
Then there are the numerous clubs, not for-
getting one almost at the very door of "The
House," where the 2000 odd (some of them very
odd) members are regaled on the fat of the land
in general, and of the turtle in particular, day by
day ; and that mammoth underground palace the
" ralmerston," where any kind of banquet can be
served up at a few minutes' notice, and where
" special Greek dishes " are provided for the
gamblers in wheat and other cereals, at the
adjacent " Baltic." There be also other eating-
houses, far too numerous to mention, but most
of them worth a visit.
A " filling " sort of luncheon is a portion of a
Cheshire Cheese Pudding.
A little way up a gloomy court on the north
side of Fleet Street a neighbourhood which
reeks of printers' ink, bookmakers' "runners,"
tipsters, habitual borrowers of small pieces of
silver, and that " warm " smell of burning paste
and molten lead which indicates the " foundry "
in a printing works is situated this ancient
hostelry. It is claimed for the "Cheese" that
it was the tavern most frequented by Dr.
Samuel Johnson. Mr. C. Redding, in his Fifty
Years' Recollections^ Literary and Personal^
published in 1858, says: "I often dined at the
Cheshire Cheese."
Johnson and his friends, I was informed, used to
do the same, and I was told I should see indi-
40 CAKES AND ALE
viduals who had met them there. This I found
to be correct. The company was more select
than in later times, but there are Fleet Street
tradesmen who well remembered both Johnson
and Goldsmith in this place of entertainment."
Few Americans who visit our metropolis go
away without making a pilgrimage to this ancient
hostelry, where, upstairs, "Doctor Johnson's
Chair " is on view ; and many visitors carry
away mementoes of the house, in the shape of
pewter measures, the oaken platters upon which
these are placed, and even samples of the long
" churchwarden " pipes, smoked by habitues after
their evening chops or steaks.
Te Pudding,
which is served on Wednesdays and Saturdays,
at 1.30 and 6.0, is a formidable-looking object,
and its savour reaches even into the uttermost
parts of Great Grub Street. As large, more or
less, as the dome of St. Paul's, that pudding is
stuffed with steak, kidney, oysters, mushrooms,
and larks. The irreverent call these last named
sparrows, but we know better. This pudding
takes (on dit] \7\ hours in the boiling, and the
" bottom crust " would have delighted the hearts
of Johnson, Boswell, and Co., in whose days the
savoury dish was not. The writer once witnessed
a catastrophe at the " Cheshire Cheese," com-
pared to which the burning of Moscow or the
bombardment of Alexandria were mere trifles.
1.30 on Saturday afternoon had arrived, and the
oaken benches in the refectory were filled to
repletion with expectant pudding-eaters. Bur-
LUNCHEON 41
gesses of the City of London were there good,
"warm," round-bellied men, with ploughboys'
appetites and journalists, and advertising agents,
and " resting " actors, and magistrates' clerks, and
barristers from the Temple, and well-to-do
tradesmen. Sherry and gin and bitters and other
adventitious aids (?) to appetite had been done
justice to, and the arrival of the "procession"
it takes three men and a boy to carry the piece
de resistance from the kitchen to the dining-room
was anxiously awaited. And then, of a sudden
we heard a loud crash ! followed by a feminine
shriek, and an unwhispered Saxon oath. " Tom"
the waiter had slipped, released his hold, and the
pudding had fallen downstairs ! It was a sight
ever to be remembered steak, larks, oysters,
" delicious gravy," running in a torrent into
Wine Office Court. The expectant diners
(many of them lunchers) stood up and gazed
upon the wreck of their hopes, and then filed,
silently and sadly, outside. Such a catastrophe
had not been known in Brainland since the
Great Fire.
Puddings of all sorts are, in fact, favourite
autumn and winter luncheon dishes in London,
and the man who can " come twice " at such a
" dream " as the following, between the hours of
one and three, can hardly be in devouring trim for
his evening meal till very late. It is a
Snipe Pudding.
A thin slice of beef-skirt, 1 seasoned with pepper
1 In most recipes for puddings or pies, rump steak is given.
But this is a mistake, as the tendency of that part of the ox is to
42 CAKES AND ALE
and salt, at the bottom of the basin ; then three
snipes beheaded and befooted, and with gizzards
extracted. Leave the liver and heart in, an you
value your life. Cover up with paste, and boil (or
steam) for two-and-a-half hours. For stockbrokers
and bookmakers, mushrooms and truffles are some-
times placed within this pudding ; but it is better
without according to the writer's notion.
Most of the fowls of the air may be treated in
the same way. And when eating cold grouse for
luncheon try (if you can get it) a fruit salad
therewith. You will find preserved peaches,
apricots, and cherries in syrup, harmonise well
with cold brown game.
Lancashire Hot- Pot
is a savoury dish indeed ; but I know of but one
eating-house in London where you can get
anything like it. Here is the recipe
Place a layer of mutton cutlets, with most of the
fat and tails trimmed off, at the bottom of a deep
earthenware stewpan. Then a layer of chopped
sheep's kidneys, an onion cut into thin slices, half-
a-dozen oysters, and some sliced potatoes. Sprinkle
over these a little salt and pepper and a teaspoonful
of curry powder. Then start again with cutlets, and
keep on adding layers of the different ingredients until
the dish be full. Whole potatoes atop of all, and
pour in the oyster liquor and some good gravy.
More gravy just before the dish is ready to serve.
harden, when subjected to the process of boiling or baking.
Besides the skirt the thick skirt there be tit-bits to be cut from
around the shoulder.
LUNCHEON 45
Not too fierce an oven, just fierce enough to brown
the top potatoes.
In making this succulent concoction you can
add to, or substitute for, the mutton cutlets
pretty nearly any sort of flesh or fowl. I have
met rabbit, goose, larks, turkey, and (frequently)
beef therein ; but, believe me, the simple,
harmless, necessary, toothsome cutlet makes the
best lining.
In the Cape Colony, and even as high up as
Rhodesia, I have met with a dish called a Brady ',
which is worthy of mention here. It is made in
the same way as the familiar Irish stew; but
instead of potatoes tomatoes are used.
CHAPTER V
LUNCHEON (continued)
tt He couldn't hit a haystack ! tf
Shooting luncheons Cold tea anH a crust Clear turtle Such
larks ! Jugged duck and oysters Woodcock pie Hunt-
ing luncheons Pie crusts The true Yorkshire pie Race-
course luncheons Suggestions to caterers The "Jolly
Sand boys " stew Various recipes A race-course sandwich
Angels' pie "Suffolk pride" Devilled larks A light
lunch in the Himalayas.
THERE is no meal which has become more
" expanded " than a shooting luncheon. A crust
of bread with cheese, or a few biscuits, and a
flask of sherry sufficed for our forebears, who, de-
spite inferior weapons and ammunition, managed
to "bring 'em down " quite as effectually as do
the shootists of this period. Most certainly and
decidedly, a heavy luncheon is a mistake if you
want to " shoot clean " afterwards. And bear this
in mind, all ye "Johnnies" who rail at your
host's champagne and turtle, after luncheon, in a
comfortable pavilion in the midst of a pheasant
battue^ and whose very beaters would turn up
LUNCHEON 45
their noses at a pork pie and a glass of old ale,
that there is nothing so good to shoot upon as
cold tea, unless it be cold coffee. I have tried
both, and for a shooting luncheon par excellence
commend me to a crust and a pint of cold tea,
eaten whilst sitting beneath the shelter of an
unpleached hedge, against the formal spread which
commences with a consomme, and finishes with
Biinea peaches, and liqueurs of rare curacoa.
f course, it is assumed that the shooter wishes
to make a bag.
But as, fortunately for trade, everybody does
not share my views, it will be as well to append
a few dishes suitable to a scratch meal of this sort.
First of all let it be said that a
Roast Loin of Pork,
washed down with sweet champagne, is not
altogether to be commended. I have nothing to
urge against roast pork, on ordinary occasions, or
champagne either ; but a woodcock takes a lot of
hitting.
Such a pudding as was sketched in the
preceding chapter is allowable, as is also the
Lancashire Hot-Pot.
Shepherds Pie,
I.e. minced meat beneath a mattress of mashed
potatoes, with lots of gravy in the dish, baked, is
an economical dish, but a tasty one ; and I have
never known much left for the beaters. RABBIT
PIE, or Pudding, will stop a gap most effectually,
and
46 CAKES AND ALE
Plover Pudding
the very name brings water to the lips is
entitled to the highest commendation.
This is the favourite dish at the shooting
luncheons of a well-known Royal Duke, and
when upon one occasion the discovery was made
that through some misunderstanding said pud-
ding had been devoured to the very bones, by the
loaders^ the well, " the band played," as they
say out West. And a stirring tune did that
band play too.
Such Larks !
Stuff a dozen larks with a forcemeat made from
their own livers chopped, a little shallot, parsley,
yolk of egg, salt, bread crumbs, and one green chili
chopped and divided amongst the twelve. Brown in
a stewpan, and then stew gently in a good gravy to
which has been added a glass of burgundy.
This is a plat fit for an emperor, and there will
be no subsequent danger of his hitting a beater
or a dog. Another dainty of home invention is
Duck with Oysters.
Cut the fleshy parts of your waddler into neat
joints, and having browned them place in a jar with
nine oysters and some good gravy partly made from
the giblets. Close the mouth of the jar, and stand
it in boiling water for rather more than an hour.
Add the strained liquor of the oysters and a little
more gravy, and turn the concoction into a deep
silver dish with a spirit lamp beneath. Wild duck
can be jugged in the same way, but without the
addition of the bivalves ; and a mixture of port wine
LUNCHEON 47
and Worcester sauce should be poured in, with a
squeeze of lemon juice and cayenne, just before
serving.
Another dish which will be round "grateful
and comforting " is an old grouse the older the
tastier. StufF him with a Spanish onion, add a
little gravy and seasoning, and stew him till the
flesh leaves the bones. All these stews, or
"jugs " should be served on dishes kept hot by
lighted spirit beneath them. This is most
important.
A Woodcock Pie
will be found extremely palatable at any shoot-
ing luncheon, although more frequently to be
met with on the sideboards of the great and
wealthy. In fact, at Christmas time, 'tis a pie
which is specially concocted in the royal kitchen
at Windsor Castle, to adorn Her Most Gracious
Majesty's board at Osborne, together with the
time-honoured baron of specially fed beef. This
last named joint hardly meets my views as part
of a breakfast menu; but here is the recipe for
the woodcock pie.
Bone four woodcocks 1 don't mean take them
off the hooks when the gentleman is not in his shop,
but tell your cook to take the bones out of one
you've shot yourself put bones and trimmings into
a saucepan with one shallot, one small onion, and a
sprig of thyme, cover them with some good stock,
and let this gravy simmer awhile. Take the giz-
zards away from the heart and liver, pound, and mix
these with some good veal forcemeat. Place the
woodcocks, skin downwards, on a board ; spread over
4-8 CAKES AND ALE
each two layers of forcemeat, with a layer of sliced
truffles in between the two. Make your crust,
either in a mould, or with the hands, put a layer of
forcemeat at the bottom, then two woodcocks, then
a layer of truffles, then the other two woodcocks,
another layer of truffles, and a top layer of force-
meat, and some thin slices of fat bacon. Cover the
pie, leaving a hole for the gravy, and bake in a
moderate oven. After taking out pour in the
gravy, then close the orifice and let the pie get cold
before serving.
N.E. It will stimulate the digging industry if one
or two whole truffles have been hidden away in the
recesses of the pie.
Another good pie I have met with in the
north country was lined with portions of
grouse and black game (no bones), with here
and there half a hard-boiled egg. Nothing else
except the necessary seasoning.
With regard to
Hunting Luncheons
it cannot be said that your Nimrod is nearly as
well catered for as is the "Gun." For, as a
rule, the first-named, if he be really keen on the
sport of kings has to content himself, during the
interval of a "check," with the contents of a
sandwich-case, and a flask, which may contain
either brown sherry or brandy and water or
possibly something still more seductive. I have
heard of flasks which held milk punch, but the
experience is by no means a familiar one. If
your Nimrod be given to "macadamising,"
instead of riding the line, or if he sicken of the
LUNCHEON 49
business altogether before hounds throw off, he
can usually " cadge " a lunch at some house in
the neighbourhood, even though it may only
"run to" bread and cheese or, possibly, a
wedge of a home-made pork-pie -with a glass,
or mug, of nut brown ale. Not that all ale is
"nut brown," but 'tis an epithet which likes
me well. Would it were possible to give practical
hints here as to the true way to manufacture a
pork-pie ! To make the attempt would, I fear,
only serve to invite disaster ; for the art of
pork-pie making, like that of the poet, or the
playactor, should be born within us. In large
households in the midland counties (wherein
doth flourish the pig tart) there is, as a rule, but
one qualified pie-maker who is incapable of any
other culinary feat whatever. I have even been
told that it requires " special hands " to make
the crust of the proper consistency ; and having
tasted crusts and crusts, I can implicitly believe
this statement. Here is a recipe for a veritable
savoury
Yorkshire Pie.
Bone a goose and a large fowl. Fill the latter
with the following stuffing : minced ham, veal,
suet, onion, sweet herbs, lemon peel, mixed spices,
goose-liver, cayenne, and salt, worked into a paste
with the yolks oJf two eggs. Sew up the fowl, truss
it, and stew it with the goose for twenty minutes in
some good beef and giblet stock, with a small glass
of sherry, in a close stewpan. Then put the fowl
inside the goose, and place the goose within a pie-
mould which has been lined with good hot-water
paste. Let the goose rest on a cushion of stuffing,
50 CAKES AND ALE
and in the middle of the liquor in which he has
been stewed. Surround him in the pie with slices
of parboiled tongue and chunks of semi-cooked
pheasant, partridge, and hare, filling in the vacancies
with more stuffing, put a layer of butter atop, roof
in the pie with paste, bake for three hours, and eat
either hot or cold the latter for choice.
For a skating luncheon
Irish Stew
is the recognised entree^ served in soup-plates,
and washed down with hot spiced ale.
In the way of
Race-course Luncheons
our caterers have made giant strides in the last
dozen years. A member of a large firm once
told me that it was " out of the question " to
supply joints, chops, and steaks in the dining-
rooms of a grand stand, distant far from his base
of operations, London. " Impossible, my dear
sir ! we couldn't do it without incurring a
ruinous loss." But the whirligig of time has
proved this feat to be not only possible, but one
which has led to the best results for all concerned.
In the matter of chops and steaks I hope to see
further reforms introduced. These succulent
dainties, it cannot be too widely known, are not
at their best unless cut fresh from loin or rump,
just before being placed on the gridiron. The
longer a cut chop (raw) is kept the more of its
virtue is lost. It might, possibly, cause a little
extra delay, and a little extra expense, to send
LUNCHEON 51
off loins and rumps from the butcher's shop,
instead of ready-cut portions, but the experiment
would answer, in the long run. The same rule,
of course, should apply to restaurants and grill-
rooms all over the world.
During the autumn and winter months,
racecourse caterers seem to have but one
idea of warm comforting food for their
customers, and the name of that idea is Irish
stew. This is no doubt an appetising dish,
but might be varied occasionally for the
benefit of the habitual follower of the sport
of kings. Why not pea-soup, jugged hare
(hares are cheap enough), hotpot, Scotch broth,
mullagatawny, hotch-potch, stewed or curried
rabbit, with rice, shepherd's pie, haricot oxtails,
sheep's head broth (Scotch fashion), and hare
soup ! What is the matter with the world-
renowned stew of which we read in The Old
Curiosity Shop the supper provided by the land-
lord of the "Jolly Sandboys " for the itinerant
showmen ? Here it is again :
" * It's a stew of tripe,' said the landlord, smack-
ing his lips, * and cowheel,' smacking them again,
1 and bacon,' smacking them once more, ' and
steak,' smacking them for the fourth time, * and
peas, cauliflowers, new potatoes, and sparrowgrass,
all working up together in one delicious gravy.'
Having come to the climax, he smacked his lips a
great many times, and taking a long hearty sniff of
the fragrance that was hovering about, put on the
cover again with the air of one whose toils on earth
were over.
" ' At what time will it be ready ? ' asked Mr.
5 a CAKES AND ALE
Codlin faintly. * It'll be done to a turn,' said the
landlord, looking up at the clock, ' at twenty-two
minutes before eleven.'
' ' Then,' said Mr. Codlin, ' fetch me a pint of
warm ale, and don't let nobody bring into the room
even so much as a biscuit till the time arrives.'"
And I do vow and protest that the above
passage has caused much more smacking of lips
than the most expensive, savoury menu ever
thought out. True, sparrowgrass and new
potatoes, and any peas but dried or tinned ones
are not as a rule at their best in the same season
as tripe ; but why not dried peas, and old potatoes,
and rice, and curry powder, and onions Charles
Dickens forgot the onions with, maybe, a
modicum of old ale added, for " body " in this
stew, on a cold day at Sandown or Kempton ?
Toujours Irish stew, like toujours mother-in-law,
is apt to pall upon the palate ; especially if not
fresh made. And frost occasionally interferes
with the best-laid plans of a race-course caterer.
u I don't mind a postponed meeting," once
observed one of the " readiest " of bookmakers ;
" but what I cannot stand is postponed Irish stew."
Than a good bowl of
Scotch Broth^
what could be more grateful, or less expensive ?
Shin of beef, pearl barley, cabbages, leeks, tur-
nips, carrots, dried peas (of course soaked overnight),
and water "all working up together in one de-
licious gravy."
Also
LUNCHEON 53
Hatch Potch.
With the addition of cutlets from the best
end of a neck of mutton, the same recipe as the
above will serve for this dish, which it must be
remembered should be more of a " stodge " than
a broth.
There are more ways than one of making a
" hot-pot." The recipe given above would hardly
suit the views of any caterer who wishes to make
a living for himself ; but it can be done on the
cheap. The old lady whose dying husband was
ordered by the doctor oysters and champagne,
procured whelks and ginger beer for the patient,
instead, on the score of economy. Then why
not make your hot-pot with mussels instead of
oysters ? Or why add any sort of mollusc ? In
the certain knowledge that these be invaluable
hints to race-course caterers, I offer them with all
consideration and respect.
The writer well remembers the time when the
refreshments on Newmarket Heath at race-time
were dispensed from a booth, which stood almost
adjoining the " Birdcage." Said refreshments
were rough, but satisfying, and consisted of thick
sandwiches, cheese, and bread, with "thumb-
pieces " (or " thumbers " ) of beef, mutton, and
pork, which the luncher was privileged to cut
with his own clasp-knife. Said "thumbers"
seem to have gone out of favour with the
aristocracy of the Turf; but the true racing
or coursing sandwich still forms part of the
impedimenta of many a cash -book maker, of his
clerk, and of many a "little" backer. 'Tis a
54 CAKES AND ALE
solid, satisfying sandwich, and is just the sort
of nourishment for a hard worker on a bitter
November day. Let your steak be grilling,
whilst you are enjoying your breakfast some
prefer the ox- portion fried, for these simple
speculators have strange tastes then take the
steak off the fire and place it, all hot, between
two thick slices of bread. The sandwich will
require several paper wrappings, if you value the
purity of your pocket-linings. And when eaten
cold, the juices of the meat will be found to
have irrigated the bread, with more or less
" delicious gravy." And, as Sam Weller ought
to have said, " it's the gravy as does it."
" But what about the swells ? " I fancy I
hear somebody asking, u Is my Lord Tomnoddy,
or the Duke of Earlswood to be compelled to
satisfy his hunger, on a race-course, with tripe
and fat bacon ? Are you really advising those
dapper-looking, tailor-made ladies on yonder drag
to insert their delicate teeth in a sandwich which
would have puzzled Gargantua to masticate ? "
Not at all, my good sir, or madam. The well-
appointed coach should be well-appointed within
and without. Of course the luncheon it contains
will differ materially according to the season of
the year. This is the sort of meal I will provide,
an you will deign to visit the Arabian tent
behind my coach, at Ascot :
Lobster mayonnaise, salmon cutlets with
Tartar sauce (iced\ curried prawns (iced\ lobster
cutlets, chaud-froid of quails, fole gras in aspic,
prawns in ditto, plovers' eggs in ditto, galantine
of chicken, York ham, sweets various, including
LUNCHEON 55
iced gooseberry fool j and, as the piece de re-
sistance^ an
Angel's Pie.
Many people would call this a pigeon pie, for in
good sooth there be pigeons in it ; but 'tis a pie
worthy of a brighter sphere than this.
Six plump young pigeons, trimmed or all super-
fluous matter, including pinions and below the
thighs. Season with pepper and salt, and stuff these
pigeons with foie gras, and quartered truffles, and
fill up the pie with plovers' eggs and some good
force-meat. Make a good gravy from the super-
fluous parts of the birds, and some calf's head stock
to which has been added about half a wine-glassful
of old Madeira, with some lemon-juice and cayenne.
See that your paste be light and flaky, and bake in
a moderate oven for three hours. Pour in more
gravy just before taking out, and let the pie get
cold.
This is a concoction which will make you
back all the winners \ whilst no heiress who
nibbles at it would refuse you her hand and
heart afterwards.
This is another sort of
Pigeon Pie
which is best served hot, and is more suited to
the dining-room than the race-course.
Line a pie dish with veal force-meat, very highly
seasoned, about an inch thick. Place on it some
thin slices of tat bacon, three Bordeaux pigeons
(trimmed) in halves, a veal sweetbread in slices, an
5 6 CAKES AND ALE
ox palate, boiled and cut up into dice, a dozen
asparagus tops, a few button mushrooms (the large
ones would give the interior of the pie a bad colour)
and the yolks of four eggs. Cover with force-meat,
and bake for three hours. Some good veal gravy
should be served with this, which I have named
Suffolk Pride.
It is a remarkable fact in natural history that
English pigeons are at their best just at the
time when the young rooks leave the shelter of
their nests. Therefore have I written, in the
above recipe, " Bordeaux " pigeons.
Here is a quaint old eighteenth-century recipe,
which comes from Northumberland, and is given
verbatim^ for a
Goose Pie.
Bone a goose, a turkey, a hare, and a brace of
grouse ; skin it, and cut oft all the outside pieces
I mean of the tongue, after boiling it lay the goose,
for the outside a few pieces of hare ; then lay in the
turkey, the grouse, and the remainder of the tongue
and hare. Season highly between each layer with
pepper and salt, mace and cayenne, and put it
together, and draw it close with a needle and thread.
Take 20 Ibs. of flour, put 5 Ibs. of butter into a
pan with some water, let it boil, pour it among the
flour, stir it with a knife, then work it with your
hands till quite stiff". Let it stand before the fire
for half an hour, then raise your pie and set it to
cool ; then finish it, put in the meat, close the pie,
and set it in a cold place. Ornament according
to your taste, bandage it with calico dipped in fat.
Let it stand all night before baking. It will take a
long time to bake. The oven must be pretty hot
LUNCHEON 57
for the first four hours, and then allowed to slacken.
To know when it is enough, raise one of the orna-
ments, and with a fork try if the meat is tender.
If it is hard the pie must be put in again for two
hours more. After it comes out of the oven fill up
with strong stock, well seasoned, or with clarified
butter. All standing pies made in this way.
Verily, in the eighteenth century they must
have had considerably more surplus cash and
time, and rather more angelic cooks than their
descendants !
During cold weather the interior of the coach
should be well filled with earthenware vessels
containing such provender as hot-pot, hare soup,
mullagatawney, lobster a P Amerlcaine^ curried
rabbit, devilled larks with the materiel for heating
these. Such cold viands as game pie, pressed
beef, boar's head, fole gras (truffled), plain truffles
(to be steamed and served with buttered toast)
anchovies, etc. The larks should be smothered
with a paste made from a mixture of mustard,
Chili vinegar, and a little anchovy paste, and kept
closely covered up. After heating, add cayenne
to taste.
Gourmets interested in menus may like to
know what were the first dejeuners partaken of by
the Tsar on his arrival in Paris in October 1869.
On the first day he had huitres, consomme,
oeufs a la Parisienne, filet de bceuf, pommes de
terre, Nesselrode sauce, chocolat.
Next day he ate huitres, consomme, ceufs
Dauphine, rougets, noisettes d'agneau marechal,
pommes de terre, cailles a la Bohemienne,
poires Bar-le-Duc.
58 CAKES AND ALE
The writer can recall some colossal luncheons
partaken of at dear, naughty Simla, in the long
ago, when a hill station in India was, if anything,
livelier than at the present day, and furnished plenty
of food for both mind and body. Our host was
the genial proprietor of a weekly journal, to
which most of his guests contributed, after their
lights ; " sport and the drama " falling to the
present writer's share. Most of the food at
those luncheons had been specially imported from
Europe ; and although the whitebait tasted more
of the hermetical sealing than of the Thames
mud, most of the other items were succulent
enough. There were turtle soup, and turtle fins ;
highly seasoned pates of sorts ; and the native
khansama had added several dishes of his own
providing and invention. A young florican
(bustard) is by no means a bad bird, well roasted
and basted ; and though the eternal vilolif (veal
olives) were usually sent away untasted, his snipe
puddings were excellent. What was called
picheese (twenty-five years old) brandy, from the
atelier of Messrs. Justerini and Brooks, was served
after the coffee ; and those luncheon parties seldom
broke up until it was time to dress for dinner.
In fact, our memories were not often keen as
to anything which occurred after the coffee,
and many cc strange things happened " in con-
sequence ; although as they have no particular
connection with high -class cookery, they need
not be alluded to in this chapter.
But, as observed before, 1 am of opinion that
luncheon, except under certain circumstances, is
a mistake.
CHAPTER VI
DINNER
* Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it j
But we can eat and we hae meat,
And sae the Lord be thanlcit."
Origin Early dinners The noble Romans "Vitellius the
Glutton " Origin of haggis The Saxons Highland hospi-
tality The French invasion Waterloo avenged The bad
fairy "Ala" Comparisons The English cook or the foreign
food torturer ? Plain or flowery Fresh fish and the flavour
wrapped up George Augustus Sala Doctor Johnson again.
IT is somewhat humiliating to reflect that we
Britons owe the art of dining to our first con-
querors the Romans a smooth-faced race of
voluptuaries whose idea of a bonne bouche took
the form of a dormouse stewed in honey and
sprinkled with poppy-seed. But it was not
until the Normans had fairly established them-
selves and their cookery, that the sturdy Saxon
submitted himself to be educated by the foreign
food-spoiler ; and at a later period the frequent
invasions of France by Britain when money
was " tight " in the little island were un-
F
6o CAKES AND ALE
doubtedly responsible for the commencement
of the system of " decorating " food which so
largely obtains to-day.
The name "dinner" is said although it
seems incredible that words should have become
so corrupted to be a corruption of dlx heures^
the time at which (A.M.), in the old Norman
days, the meal was usually partaken of; and the
time at which (P.M.), in later years, when none of
the guests ever knew the hour, in that loose-and-
careless period, the meal was occasionally par-
taken of at Limmer's and at Lane's, in London
town. Froissart, in one of his works, mentions
having waited upon the Duke of Lancaster at
5 P.M., " after his Grace had supped " ; and it is
certain that during the reigns of Francis I. and
Louis XII. of France, the world of fashion was
accustomed to dine long before the sun had
arrived at the meridian, and to sup at what we
now call "afternoon tea time." Louis XIV.
did not dine till twelve ; and his contemporaries,
Oliver Cromwell and the Merry Monarch, sat
down to the principal meal at one. In 1700,
two was the fashionable time; and in 1751 we
read that the Duchess of Somerset's hour for
dinner was three. The hour for putting the
soup on the table kept on advancing, until, after
Waterloo, it became almost a penal offence to
dine before six ; and so to the end of the century,
when we sit down to a sumptuous repast at a
time when farm-labourers and artisans are either
snug between the blankets, or engaged in their
final wrangle at the " Blue Pig."
The Romans in the time of Cicero had a
DINNER 61
light breakfast at 3.30 A.M., lunched at noon,
and attacked the coena at periods varying between
3 and 7 P.M. according to the season of the
year. They commenced the first course with
eggs, and each noble Roman was supposed to
clear his palate with an apple at the conclusion
of the third course. "A banquet with Vitellius,"
we read, "was no light and simple repast.
Leagues of sea and miles of forest had been swept
to furnish the mere groundwork of the entertain-
ment. Hardy fishermen had spent their nights
on the heaving wave, that the giant turbot might
flap its snowy flakes on the Emperor's table,
broader than its broad dish of gold. Many a
swelling hill, clad in the dark oak coppice, had
echoed to ringing shout of hunter and deep-
mouthed bay of hound, ere the wild boar yielded
his grim life, by the morass, and the dark grisly
carcase was drawn off to provide a standing dish
that was only meant to gratify the eye. Even
the peacock roasted in its feathers was too gross
a dainty " especially the feather part, we should
think "for epicures who studied the art of gastro-
nomy under Caesar ; and that taste would have
been considered rustic in the extreme which
could partake of more than the mere fumes and
savour of so substantial a dish. A thousand
nightingales had been trapped and killed, indeed,
for this one supper, but brains and tongues were
all they contributed to the banquet ; while even
the wing of a roasted hare would have been
considered far too coarse and common food for
the imperial table." Talk about a beanfeast !
According to Suetonius (whose name suggests
62 CAKES AND ALE
"duff") the villain Nero was accustomed to dine
in a superb apartment, surrounded with mechani-
cal scenery, which could be "shifted" with
every course. The suppers of "Vitellius the
Glutton " cost, on the average, more than ^4000
a-piece which reads like a " Kaffir Circus "
dinner at the Savoy and the celebrated feast to
which he invited his brother was down in the
bill for ^40,350. Now a-nights we don't spend
as much on a dinner, even when we invite other
people's wives. " It consisted " I always think
of Little Dombey and the dinner at Doctor
Blimber's, on reading these facts "of two
thousand different dishes of fish, and seven
thousand of fowls, with other equally numerous
meats."
" Sharp - biting salads," salted herrings, and
pickled anchovies, were served, as hors cTceuvres
during the first course of a Roman banquet, to
stimulate the hunger which the rest of the meal
would satisfy ; but although Vitellius was,
according to history, " a whale on " oysters, they
do not appear to have been eaten as a whet to
appetite. And it was the duty of one, or more,
of the Emperor's " freedmen " to taste every dish
before his imperial master, in case poison might
lurk therein. A garland of flowers around the
brows was the regular wear for a guest at a
"swagger" dinner party in ancient Rome-, and,
the eating part over, said garland was usually
tilted back on the head, the while he who had
dined disposed himself in an easy attitude on his
ivory couch, and proffered his cup to be filled
by the solicitous slave. Then commenced the
DINNER 63
" big drink." But it must be remembered that
although the subsequent display of fireworks was
provided from lively Early Christians, in tar
overcoats; these Romans drank the pure, un-
adulterated juice of the grape, freely mixed with
water ; so that headaches i' th' morn were not
de rigueur^ nor did the subsequent massacres and
other diversions in the Amphitheatre cause any
feelings of "jumpiness."
The Roman bill-of-fare, however, does not
commend itself to all British epicures, one of
whom wrote, in a convivial song
" Old Lucullus, they say,
Forty cooks had each day,
And Vitellius's meals cost a million;
But I like what is good,
When or where be my food,
In a chop-house or royal pavilion.
At all feasts (if enough)
I most heartily stuff,
And a song at my heart alike rushes,
Though I've not fed my lungs
Upon nightingales' tongues,
Nor the brains of goldfinches and thrushes."
My pen loves to linger long over the gastro-
nomies of those shaven voluptuaries, the ancient
Italians \ and my Caledonian readers will forgive
the old tales when it is further set forth that the
Romans introduced, amongst other things,
Haggis
into Bonnie Scotland. Yes, the poet's "great
chieftain o j the puddin' race " is but an Italian
64 CAKES AND ALE
dish after all. The Apician pork haggis l was a
boiled pig's stomach filled with fry and brains,
raw eggs, and pine apples beaten to a pulp, and
seasoned with liquamen. For although some of
the Romans' tastes savoured of refinement, many
of them were " absolutely beastly." The idea of
pig's fry and pineapples mixed is horrible enough ;
but take a look into the constitution of this
liquamen^ and wonder no longer that Gibbons
wrote his Decline and Fall with so much feeling
and gusto. This sauce was obtained from the
intestines, gills, and blood of fishes, great and
small, stirred together with salt, and exposed in
an open vat in the sun, until the compound
became putrid. When putrefaction had done
its work, wine and spices were added to the
hell-broth, which was subsequently strained and
sent into the Roman market. This liquamen
was manufactured in Greece, and not one of all
the poets of sunny Italy seems to have satirised
the " made-in-Greece " custom, which in those
days must have been almost as obnoxious as the
" made -in- Germany " or the " made-in- White-
chapel " scare of to-day.
The usual farinaceous ingredient of the
Roman haggis was frumenty, but frequently
no grain whatever was applied ; and instead
1 The cannie Scot, however, never made his haggis from any-
thing belonging to the pig. The dislike of the Scots to pork
dates from very long ago, as we read in a note to Sir Walter
Scott's Waverley. King "Jamie" carried this prejudice to England,
and is known to have abhorred perk almost as much as he did
tobacco. His proposed banquet to the " Deil " consisted of a
loin of pork, a poll (or head) of ling, with a pipe of tobacco for
digestion.
DINNER 65
of mincing the ingredients, as do the Scots,
the ancients pounded them in a mortar, well
moistened with liquamen^ until reduced to pulp.
We are further told in history that a Roman
gladiator was capable, after playing with eggs,
fish, nightingales' tongues, dormice, and haggis,
of finishing a wild boar at a sitting. But as
the old lady remarked of the great tragedy, this
happened a long time ago, so let's hope it isn't
true.
The Saxon dining -table was oblong, and
rounded at the ends. The cloth was crimson,
with broad gilt edgings hanging low beneath
the table, and, it is to be feared, often soiled by
the dirty boots of the guests, who sat on chairs
with covered backs, the counterfeit presentments
of which are still to be seen in the Tottenham
Court Road. The food consisted of fish, fowls,
beef, mutton, venison, and pork wild and
domestic either boiled, baked, or broiled, and
handed to the company by the attendants on
small spies. A favourite " fish joint " of the old
Saxon was a cut out of the middle of a porpoise ;
and bread of the finest wheaten flour reposed in
two silver baskets at each end of the table, above
the salt, the retainers having to content them-
selves with coarser " household " out of a wooden
cradle. Almost the only vegetable in use amongst
the Saxons was kalewort, although the Romans
had brought over many others, years before ;
but hatred of anything foreign was more
rampant in early Saxon days than at present.
Forks were not introduced into England until
during the reign of King "Jamie" : so that our
66 CAKES AND ALE
ancestors had perforce to " thumb " their victuals.
The fair Queen Elizabeth (like much more
modern monarchs) was accustomed to raise to
her mouth with her virgin ringers a turkey leg
and gnaw it. But even in the earliest days of
the thirteenth century, each person was provided
with a small silver basin and two flowered napkins
of the finest linen, for finger-washing and wiping
purposes. Grapes, figs, nuts, apples, pears, and
almonds, constituted a Saxon dessert; and in
the reign of Edward III. an Act of Parliament
was passed, forbidding any man or woman to
be served with more than two courses, unless on
high days and holidays, when each was entitled
to three.
Here is the bill for the ingredients of a big dinner
provided by a City Company in the fifteenth
century : " Two loins of veal and two loins of
mutton, is. 4d. ; one loin of beef, q.d. ; one dozen
pigeons and 12 rabbits, gd. ; one pig and one
capon, is. ; one goose and 100 eggs, is. o^d. ;
one leg of mutton, 2jd. ; two gallons of sack,
is. 4d. ; eight gallons of strong ale, is. 6d. ;
total, 73. 6d." Alas ! In these advanced days
the goose alone would cost more than the
" demmed total."
Cedric the Saxon's dining table, described in
Ivanhoe^ was of a much simpler description than
the one noted above ; and the fare also. But
there was no lack of assorted liquors old wine
and ale, good mead and cider, rich morat (a mixture
of honey and mulberry juice, a somewhat gouty
beverage, probably), and odoriferous pigment
which was composed of highly- spiced wine,
DINNER 67
sweetened with honey. The Virgin Queen, at
a later epoch, was catered for more delicately ;
and we read that she detested all coarse meats,
evil smells, and strong wines. During the
Georgian era coarse meats and strong wines
were by no means out of favour ; and Highland
banquets especially were Gargantuan feasts, to
be read of with awe. The dinner given by
Fergus Maclvor, in honour of Captain Waverley,
consisted of dishes of fish and game, carefully
dressed, at the upper end of the table, immediately
under the eye of the English stranger. " Lower
down stood immense clumsy joints of beef," says
the gifted author, "which, but for the absence
of pork, abhorred in the Highlands, resembled
the rude festivity of the banquet of Penelope's
suitors. But the central dish was a yearling lamb,
called a "hog in har'st," roasted whole. It was
set upon its legs, with a bunch of parsley in its
mouth, and was probably exhibited in that form
to gratify the pride of the cook, who piqued
himself more on the plenty than the elegance
of his master's table. The sides of this poor
animal " the lamb, not the cook, we suppose is
meant " were fiercely attacked by the clansmen,
some with dirks, others with the knives worn in
the same sheath as the dagger, so that it was
soon rendered a mangled and rueful spectacle."
A spectacle which reminds the writer of a
dinner table at the Royal Military College,
Sandhurst, in the early sixties.
"Lower down," continues Sir Walter, "the
victuals seemed of yet coarser quality, though
sufficiently abundant. Broth, onions, cheese, and
68 CAKES AND ALE
the fragments of the feast, regaled the sons of
Ivor, who feasted in the open air."
The funeral baked meats used after the inter-
ment of the chief of the Clan Quhele (described
in The Fair Maid of Perth] were also on a very
extensive scale, and were, like the other meal,
" digested " with pailfuls of usquebaugh, for
which no Highland head that supported a bonnet
was ever " the waur T th' morn." And the
custom of placing bagpipers behind the chairs
of the guests, after they have well drunk,
which is still observed in Highland regiments,
was probably introduced by the aforesaid
Fergus Maclvor, who really ought to have
known better.
And so the years rolled on ; and at the com-
mencement of the nineteenth century, old Eng-
land, instead of enjoying the blessings of universal
peace, such as the spread of the Gospel of Chris-
tianity might have taught us to expect, found
herself involved in rather more warfare than
was good for trade, or anything else. The first
" innings " of the Corsican usurper was a short
but merry one ; the second saw him finally
"stumped." And from that period dates the
" avenging of Waterloo " which we have suffered
in silence for so long. The immigration of
aliens commenced, and in the tight little island
were deposited a large assortment of the poison-
ous seeds of alien cookery which had never
exactly flourished before. The combat between
the Roast Beef of old England and the bad fairy
" Ala" with her attendant sprites Grease, Vinegar,
and Garlic, commenced j a combat which at the
DINNER 69
end of the nineteenth century looked excessively
like terminating in favour of the fairy.
It has been repeatedly urged against my former
gastronomic writings that they are unjustly
severe on French cookery ; that far greater
minds than mine own have expressed unqualified
approval thereof ; that I know absolutely nothing
about the subject ; and that my avowed hatred
of our lively neighbours and their works is so
ferocious as to become ridiculous. These state-
ments are not altogether fair to myself. I have
no " avowed hatred " of our lively neighbours ;
in fact, upon one occasion on returning from the
celebration of the Grand Prix, I saw a vision of
but that is a different anecdote. My lash
has never embraced the entire batter ie de cuisine
of the chef, and there be many French plats
which are agreeable to the palate, as long as we
are satisfied that the materiel of which they are
composed is sound, wholesome, and of the best
quality. It is the cheap restaurateur who should
be improved out of England. I was years ago
inveigled into visiting the kitchen of one of these
grease-and-garlic shops, and but the memory
is too terrible for language. And will anybody
advance the statement that a basin of the tortue
da ire of the average chef deserves to be mentioned
in the same breath with a plate of clear turtle at
Birch's or Painter's ? or that good genuine
English soup, whether ox-tail, mock-turtle, pea,
oyster, or Palestine, is not to be preferred to the
French puree^ or to their teakettle broth flavoured
with carrots, cabbages, and onions, and dignified
by the name of consomme ?
70 CAKES AND ALE
Then let us tackle the subject of fish. Would
you treat a salmon in the British way, or smother
him with thick brown gravy, fried onions, garlic,
mushrooms, inferior claret, oysters, sugar, pepper,
salt, and nutmeg, en Matelote, or mince him fine
to make a ridiculous mousse ? Similarly with the
honest, manly sole ; would you fry or grill him
plain, or bake him in a coat of rich white sauce,
onion juice, mussel ditto, and white wine, or
cider, a la Normande ; or cover him with toasted
cheese a la Cardinal?
The fairy "Ala" is likewise responsible for
the clothing of purely English food in French
disguises. Thus a leg of mutton becomes a
gigoty a pheasant (for its transgressions in
eating the poor farmer's barley) a faisan, and is
charged for at special rates in the bill ; whilst
the nearest to a beefsteak our lively neighbours
can get is a portion of beef with the fibre
smashed by a wooden mallet, surmounted by an
exceedingly bilious-looking compound like axle-
grease, and called a Chateaubriand; and curry
becomes under the new regime, kari.
Undoubtedly, the principal reason for serving
food smothered in made-gravies lies in the in-
feriority of the food. Few judges will credit
France with the possession of better butcher's-
meat with the exception of veal than the
perfidious island, which is so near in the matter
of distance, and yet so far in the matter of
custom. And it is an established fact that the
fish of Paris is not as fresh as the fish of London.
Hence the sole Normande, the sole au gratin,
and the sole smothered in toasted cheese. But
DINNER 71
when we islanders are charged at least four times
as much for the inferior article, in its foreign
cloak, as for the home article in its native
majesty, I think the time has come to protest.
It is possible to get an excellent dinner at any
of the "Gordon" hotels, at the "Savoy," the
K Cecil," and at some other noted food-houses
more especially at Romano's by paying a stiff
price for it ; but it is due to a shameful lack of
enterprise on the part of English caterers that a
well-cooked English dinner is becoming more
difficult to procure, year after year. There be
three purely British dishes which are always "hoff"
before all others on the programme of club, hotel,
or eating-house ; and these are, Irish stew, liver-
and-bacon, and tripe-and-onions. Yet hardly a
week passes without a new diner Parisien
making its appearance in the advertisement
columns of the newspapers ; whilst the cheap-
and-nasty table tfhote^ with its six or seven
courses and its Spanish claret, has simply throttled
the Roast Beef of Old England.
" Sir," said Dr. Johnson, after examining a
French menu^ " my brain is obfuscated after the
perusal of this heterogeneous conglomeration of
bastard English ill-spelt, and a foreign tongue.
I prithee bid thy knaves bring me a dish of
hog's puddings, a slice or two from the upper
cut of a well-roasted sirloin, and two apple-
dumplings."
"William," said George Augustus Sala to
the old waiter at the "Cheshire Cheese," "I've
had nothing fit to eat for three months ; get me
a point steak, for God's sake ! "
7i CAKES AND ALE
The great lauder of foreign cookery had only
that day returned from a special mission to France,
to " write up " the works of the cordon bleu for
the benefit of us benighted Englishmen. No
man in the wide wide world knew so much, or
could write so much, on the subject of and in
praise of the fairy u Ala" as George Sala ; and
probably no man in the wide wide world so little
appreciated her efforts.
But how has it come about that the fairy
" Ala " has gained such headway in this island of
ours ? The answer must commence another
chapter.
CHAPTER VII
DINNER (continued]
" It is the cause ! "
Imitation Dear Lady Thistlebrain Try it on the dog
Criminality of the English Caterer The stove, the stink,
the steamer Roasting -v. Baking False Economy Dirty
ovens Frills and fingers Time over Dinner A long-
winded Bishop Corned beef.
Now for the cause, alluded to at the end of the
last chapter.
Imprimis^ the French invasion is due to the
universal craze for imitation, which may be the
sincerest form of flattery, but which frequently
leads to bad results. For years past the fair sex
of Great Britain have been looking to Paris for
fashion in dress, as well as in cookery ; whilst
the other sex have long held the mistaken notion
that "they manage things better in France."
The idea that France is the only country cap-
able of clothing the outer and the inner man,
artistically, has taken deep root. Thus, if the
Duchess of Dulverton import, regardless of
expense, a divine creation in bonnets from the
74 CAKES AND ALE
Rue de Castiglione, and air the same in church,
it is good odds that little Mrs. Stokes, of the
Talbot Road, Bayswater, will have had the
chapeau copied, at about one-twentieth of the
original cost, by the next Sabbath day. Dear
Lady Thistlebrain, who has such taste (since she
quitted the family mangle in Little Toke Street,
Lambeth, for two mansions, a castle, and a deer
park), and with whom money is no object, pays
her chef the wages of an ambassador, and every-
body raves over her dinners. Mrs. Potter of
Mai da Vale sets her " gal" (who studied higher
gastronomy, together with the piano, and flower-
painting on satin, at the Board School) to work
on similar menus with, on the whole, disastrous
results. The London society and fashion journals
encourage this snobbish idea by quoting menus,
most of them ridiculous. Amongst the middle
classes the custom of giving dinner parties at
hotels has for some time past been spreading, partly
to save trouble, and partly to save the brain of the
domestic cook ; so that instead of sitting down to
a plain dinner, with, maybe, an entree or two sent
in by the local confectioner around the family
mahogany tree, all may be fanciful decoration,
and not half enough to eat, electric light, and
a la with attendance charged in the bill.
The only way to stop this sort of thing is to
bring the system into ridicule, to try it on the
groundlings. A fair leader of ton, late in the
sixties, appeared one morning in the haunts of
fashion, her shapely shoulders covered with a cape
of finest Russian sables, to the general admiration
and envy of all her compeers. Thereupon, what
DINNER 7$
did her dearest friend and (of course) most deadly
rival do ? Get a similar cape, or one of finer
quality ? Not a bit of it. She drove off, then and
there, to her furriers, and had her coachman and
footman fitted with similar capes, in (of course)
cheaper material ; and, when next afternoon she
took the air in the park, in her perfectly appointed
landau, her fur-clad menials created something
like a panic in the camp of her enemy, whilst fur
capes for fair leaders of " ton" were, like hashed
venison at a City luncheon, very soon u hoff."
It is extremely probable that, could it be
arranged to feed our starving poor, beneath the
public gaze, on soles Normandes^ cotelettes a la
Reform^ and salmi de gibler trujfi ; to feast our
workhouse children on bisque d'ecrevisses and
Ananas a la Creole^ the upper classes of Great
Britain would soon revert to plain roast and
boiled.
But after all it is the English caterer who is
chiefly to blame for his own undoing. How is
it that in what may be called the " food streets "
of the metropolis the foreign food-supplier should
outnumber the purveyor of the Roast Beef of Old
England in the proportion of fifty to one ?
Simply because the Roast Beef of Old England
has become almost as extinct as the Dodo. There
are but few English kitchens, at this end of the
nineteenth century, in the which meat is roasted
in front of the fire.
In order to save the cost of fuel, most English
(save the mark !) cooking is now performed by
gas or steam ; and at many large establishments
the food, whether fish, flesh, fowl, vegetables or
G
7 6 CAKES AND ALE
pastry, all goes, in a raw state, into a species of
chest of drawers made of block-tin, in which
receptacle the daily luncheons, dinners, and
suppers are steamed and robbed of all flavour,
save that of hot tin. The pity of it ! Better,
for better for mankind the a la system than
to be gradually " steamed " into the tomb !
It is alleged that as good results in the way of
roasting can be got from an oven as from the
spit. But that oven must be ventilated with
both an inlet and an outlet ventilator, for one
will not act without the other. It is also
advisable that said oven should be cleaned out
occasionally ; for a hot oven with no joint therein
will emit odours anything but agreeable, if not
attended to ; and it is not too sweeping a state-
ment to say that the majority of ovens in busy
kitchens are foul. The system of steaming food
(the alleged " roasts " being subsequently browned
in an oven) is of comparatively recent date ; but
the oven as a roaster was the invention of one
Count Rumford, at the beginning of the nine-
teenth century. In one of his lectures on oven-
roasting, this nobleman remarked that he despaired
of getting any Englishman to believe his words ;
so that he was evidently confronted with plenty
of prejudice, which it is devoutly to be prayed
still exists in English homes. For I do vow and
protest that the oven odours which pervade the
neighbourhood of the Strand, London, at midday,
are by no means calculated to whet the appetite
of the would-be luncher or diner. This is what
such an authority as Mr. Buckmaster wrote on
the subject of the spit versus the oven :
DINNER 77
" I believe I am regarded as a sort of heretic on the
question of roasting meat. My opinion is that the
essential condition of good roasting is constant bast-
ing, and this the meat is not likely to have when shut
up in an iron box ; and what is not easily done is
easily neglected."
In this connection there are more hectics
than Mr. Buckmaster. But if during my life-
time the days of burning heretics should be
revived, I shall certainly move the Court of
Criminal Appeal in favour of being roasted or
grilled before, or over, the fire, instead of being
deprived of my natural juices in an iron box.
Some few " roast " houses are still in existence
in London, but they be few and far between ;
and since Mr. Cooper gave up the "Albion,"
nearly opposite the stage- door of Drury Lane
Theatre, the lover of good, wholesome, English
food has lost one old-fashioned tavern in the
which he was certain of enjoying such food.
It has been repeatedly urged in favour of
French cookery that it is so economical. But
economy in the preparation of food is by no
means an unmixed blessing. I do not believe
that much sole-leather is used up in the ordinary
ragout^ or salmi ; but many of us who can afford
more expensive joints have a prejudice against
" scrags " ; whilst the tails of mutton chops
frequently have a tainted flavour, and the drum-
sticks and backs of fowls are only fit to grill, or
boil down into gravy. And it is not only the
alien who is economical in his preparation of the
banquet. Many of the dwellers in the highways
and byeways of our great metropolis will boil
7 g CAKES AND ALE
down the outer skin of a ham, and place a portion
thereof, together with such scraps as may also be
purchased, at a penny or twopence the plateful,
at the ham and beef emporium, with maybe a
"block ornament" or two from the T butcher's,
in a pie dish, with a superstructure of potatoes,
and have the " scrap pie " cooked at the baker's for
the Sunday dinner. Poor wretches ! Not much
"waste" goes on in such households. But I
have known the " gal " who tortured the food in
a cheap lodging-house throw away the water
in which a joint had just been boiled, but whether
this was from sheer ignorance, or " cussedness,"
or the desire to save herself any future labour in
the concoction of soup, deponent sayeth not. By
the way, it" is in the matter of soup that the
tastes of the British and French peasantry differ
so materially. Unless he or she be absolutely
starving, it is next to impossible to get one of the
groundlings of old England to attempt a basin of
soup. And when they do attempt the same, it
has been already made for them. The Scotch,
who are born cooks, know much better than this ;
6ut do not, O reader, if at all thin of skin, or
/efined of ear, listen too attentively to the thanks
which a denizen of the " disthressful counthry "
will bestow upon you for a " dhirty bowl o' bone-
juice."
How many modern diners, we wonder, know
the original object of placing frills around the
shank of a leg or shoulder of mutton, a ham,
the shins of a fowl, or the bone of a cutlet ?
Fingers were made before and a long time
b e f ore forks. In the seventeenth century
DINNER 79
prior to which epoch not much nicety was
observed in carving, or eating we read that
" English gentlewomen were instructed by school-
mistresses and professors of etiquette as to the
ways in which it behoved them to carve joints.
That she might be able to grasp a roasted chicken
without greasing her left hand, the gentle house-
wife was careful to trim its foot and the lower
part of its legs with cut paper. The paper frill
which may still be seen round the bony point
and small end of a leg of mutton, is a memorial
of the fashion in which joints were dressed for the
dainty hands of lady-carvers, in time prior to the
introduction of the carving-fork, an implement
that was not in universal use so late as the
Commonwealth."
How long we should sit over the dinner-table
is a matter of controversy. At the commence-
ment of the nineteenth century, in the hard-
drinking times, our forefathers were loth indeed
to quit the table. But the fairer portion of the
guests were accustomed to adjourn early, for tea
and scandal in the withdrawing-room, the while
their lords sat and quarrelled over their port, with
locked doors ; and where they fell there they
frequently passed the night. The editor of the
Almanack des Gourmands wrote : " Five hours at
table are a reasonable latitude to allow in the case
of a large party and recondite cheer." But the
worthy Grimod de la Reymiere, the editor afore-
said, lived at a period when dinner was not served
as late as 8.30 P.M. There is a legend of an
Archbishop of York " who sat three entire years
at dinner." But this is one of those tales which
80 CAKES AND ALE
specially suited the dull, brandy-sodden brains of
our ancestors. The facts are simply as follows :
the archbishop had just sat down to dinner at
noon when an Italian priest called. Hearing that
the dignitary was sitting at meat the priest whiled
away an hour in looking at the minster, and
called again, but was again " repelled by the
porter." Twice more that afternoon did the
surly porter repel the Italian, and at the fourth
visit "the porter, in a heate, answered never a
worde, and churlishlie did shutte the gates upon
him." Then the discomfited Italian returned to
Rome ; and three years later, encountering an
Englishman in the Eternal City, who declared
himself right well known to His Grace of York,
the Italian, all smiles, inquired : " I pray you,
good sir, hath that archbishop finished dinner
yet ? " Hence the story, which was doubtless
originally told by a fly-fisher.
It is not a little singular that with increasing
civilisation, a gong, which is of barbaric, or semi-
barbaric origin, should be the means usually em-
ployed to summon us to the dinner-table. In
days of yore the horn, or cornet, was blown as
the signal. Alexander Dumas tells us that "at
the period when noon was the dinner hour, the
horn or cornet (le cor] was used in great houses
to announce dinner. Hence came an expression
which has been lost ; they used to say cornet (or
trumpet) the dinner (cornez le diner}" And we
are asked to believe that to this practice " corned "
beef owes its derivation. " In days when inferior
people ate little meat in the winter months save
salted beef, the more usual form of the order was
DINNER 8 1
cornez le boeuf^ or 'corn the beef.' Richardson
errs egregiously when he insists that corned beef
derived its distinguishing epithet from the grains
or corns of salt with which it was pickled.
Corned beef is trumpeted beef, or as we should
nowadays say, dinner-bell beef."
Well "I hae ma doots," as the Scotsman
said. I am not so sure that Richardson erred
egregiously. But after all, as long as the beef be
good, and can be carved without the aid of pick
and spade, what does it matter I Let us to
dinner !
CHAPTER VIII
DINNER (continued)
" The strong table groans
Beneath the smoking sirloin stretched immense.**
A merry Christmas Bin F A Noel banquet Watercress-
How Royalty fares The Tsar Bouillabaisse Tournedos
Bisque Vol-au-vent Pre 'sale'- Chinese banquets A fixed
bayonet Bernardin salmi The duck-squeezer American
cookery " Borston " beans He couldn't eat beef.
A CHRISTMAS dinner in the early Victorian era !
)uelle fete magnifique ! The man who did not
keep Christmas in a fitting manner in those days
was not thought much of. " Dines by himself
at the club on Christmas day ! " was the way
the late Mr. George Payne of sporting memory,
summed up a certain middle-aged recluse, with
heaps of money, who, although he had two
estates in the country, preferred to live in two
small rooms in St. James's Place, S.W., and to
take his meals at " Arthur's."
And how we boys (not to mention the little
lasses in white frocks and black mittens) used to
overeat ourselves, on such occasions, with no fear
DINNER 83
of pill, draught, or "staying in," before our
eyes !
The writer has in his mind's eye a good
specimen of such an old-fashioned dinner, as
served in the fifties. It was pretty much the
same feast every Christmas. We commenced
with some sort of clear soup, with meat in it.
Then came a codfish, crimped the head of that
household would have as soon thought of eating
a sole au vin blanc as of putting before his family
an uncrimped cod with plenty of liver, oyster
sauce, and pickled walnuts ; and at the other end
of the table was a dish of fried smelts. Entrees ?
Had any of the diners asked for an entr/e, his or
her exit from the room would have been a some-
what rapid one. A noble sirloin of Scotch beef
faced a boiled turkey anointed with celery sauce;
and then appeared the blazing pudding, and the
mince-pies. For the next course, a dish of
toasted (or rather stewed) cheese, home-made
and full of richness, was handed round, with dry
toast, the bearer of which was closely pursued by
a varlet carrying a huge double-handed vessel of
hot spiced-ale, bobbing or floating about in the
which were roasted crab -apples and sippets of
toast ; and it was de rigueur for each of those
who sat at meat to extract a sippet, to eat with
the cheese.
How the old retainer, grey and plethoric with
service, loved us boys, and how he would
manoeuvre to obtain for us the tit-bits ! A favoured
servitor was " Joseph " ; and though my revered
progenitor was ostensibly the head of the house,
he would, on occasion, " run a bad second " to
84 CAKES AND ALE
"Joseph." Memory is still keen of a certain
chilly evening in September, when the ladies
had retired to the drawing-room, and the male
guests were invited to be seated at the small
table which had been wheeled close to the
replenished fire.
"Joseph," said the dear old man, "bring us a
bottle or two of the yellow seal you know
Bin F."
The servitor drew near to his master, and in a
stage whisper exclaimed :
" You can't afford it, sir ! "
" What's that ? " roared the indignant old
man.
" You can't afford it, sir Hawthornden's won
th' Leger ! "
" Good Gad ! " A pause and then, " Well,
never mind, Joseph, we'll have up the yellow
seal, all the same."
One of the writer's last Christmas dinners was
partaken of in a sweet little house in Mayfair ;
and affords somewhat of a contrast with the
meal quoted above. We took our appetites away
with a salad composed of anchovies, capers,
truffles, and other things, a Russian sardine or
two, and rolls and butter. Thence, we drifted
into Bouillabaisse (a tasty but bile - provoking
broth), toyed with some filets de sole a la
Parisienne(good but greasy), and disposed of a
tournedos^ with a nice fat oyster atop, apiece (et
parlez-moi a" fa /). Then came some dickey-
birds sur canape alleged to be snipe, but destitute
of flavour, save that of the tin they had been
spoiled in, and of the "canopy." An alien cook
DINNER 85
can not cook game, whatever choice confections
he may turn out at least that is the experience
of the writer. We had cressons, of course, with
the birds ; though how water-cress can possibly
assimilate with the flesh of a snipe is questionable.
" Water-creases " are all very well at tea in
the arbour, but don't go smoothly with any
sort of fowl j and to put such rank stuff into
a salad as my hostess's cook did is absolutely
criminal.
To continue the Mayfair banquet, the salad
was followed by a soufflee a la Noel (which re-
minded some of the more imaginative of our
party of the festive season), some cheese straws,
and the customary ices, coffee, and liqueurs.
On the whole, not a bad meal ; but what would
old Father Christmas have said thereto ? What
would my revered progenitor have remarked,
had he been allowed to revisit the glimpses of
the moon ? He did not love our lively neigh-
bours ; and, upon the only occasion on which he
was inveigled across the Channel, took especial
care to recross it the very next day, lest, through
circumstances not under his own control, he
might come to be " buried amongst these d d
French ! "
The following menu may give some idea as to
how
Royalty
entertains its guests. Said menu^ as will be seen,
is comparatively simple, and many of the dishes
are French only in name :
86 CAKES AND ALE
Huitres
Consomme aux oeufs poches
Bisque d'ecrevisses
Turbot, sauce d'homard
Fillets de saumon a 1'Indienne
Vol-au-vent Financiere
Mauviettes sur le Nid
Selle de mouton de Galles rotie
Poulardes a PEstragon
Faisans
Becassines sur croute
Chouxfleur au gratin
Plum Pudding
Bavarois aux abricots
Glace a la Mocha
Truly a pattern dinner, this ; and 'twould be
sheer impertinence to comment thereon, beyond
remarking that English dishes should, in common
fairness, be called by English names.
Her Imperial Majesty the Tsaritza, on the
night of her arrival at Darmstadt, in October
1896, sat down, together with her august husband,
to the following simple meal ;
DINNER 87
Consomme de Volaille Cronstades d'ecrevisses
Filet de Turbot a la Joinville
Cimier de Chevreuil
[A haunch of Roebuck is far to be desired above
the same quarter of the red deer].
Terrine de Perdreaux
Ponche Royale
Poularde de Metz
Choux de Bruxelles
Bavarois aux Abricots
Glaces Panachees
The partiality of crowned heads towards
" Bavarois aux Abricots " " Bavarois " is simply
Bavarian cheese, a superior sort of blanc mange
is proverbial. And the above repast was served
on priceless Meissen china and silver. The
only remarks I will make upon the above menu
are that it is quite possible that the capon may
have come from Metz, though not very probable.
French cooks name their meat and poultry in
the most reckless fashion. For instance, owing
to this reckless nomenclature the ^belief has
grown that the best ducks come from Rouen.
Nothing of the sort. There are just as good
ducks raised at West Hartlepool as at Rouen.
" Rouen " in the bill-of-fare is simply a corrup-
88 CAKES AND ALE
tion of "roan" ; and a "roan duck " is a quacker
who has assumed (through crossing) the reddish
plumage of the wild bird. As for (alleged) Surrey
fowls, most of them come from Heathfield in
Sussex, whence ^142,000 worth were sent in
1896.
Let us enquire into the composition of some
of the high-sounding plats^ served up by the
average chef.
Bouillabaisse. Of it Thackeray sang
" This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is-
A sort of soup, or broth, or brew,
Or hotch-potch of all sorts of fishes
That Greenwich never could outdo :
Green herbs, red peppers, mussels, saffron,
Soles, onions, garlic, roach, and dace ;
All these you eat at Terre's tavern,
In that one dish of Bouillabaisse."
Avoid eels and herrings in this concoction as
too oily. Soles, mullet, John Dory, whiting,
flounders, perch, roach, and mussels will blend
well, and allow half a pound of fish for each
person. For every pound of fish put in the
stewpan a pint of water, a quarter of a pint of
white wine, and a table-spoonful of salad oil. If
there be four partakers, add two sliced onions,
two cloves, two bay-leaves, two leeks (the white
part only, chopped), four cloves of garlic, a
table-spoonful chopped parsley, a good squeeze
of lemon juice, half an ounce of chopped capsi-
cums, a teaspoonful (or more ad lib.] of saffron,
with pepper and salt. Mix the chopped fish in
all this, and boil for half an hour. Let the
DINNER 89
mixture " gallop " and strain into a tureen with
sippets, and the fish served separately.
Tourmdos No relation to tornado, and you
won't find the word in any Gallic dictionary.
A tournedos is a thin collop of beef, steeped in
a marinade for twenty-four hours (personally I
prefer it without the aid of the marine) and fried
lightly. Turn it but once. The oyster atop is
simply scalded. Try this dish.
Bisque. In the seventeenth century this was
made from pigeons by the poor barbarians who
knew not the gentle lobster, nor the confiding
crayfish. Heat up to boiling-point a Mirepoix
of white wine. You don't know what a
Mirepoix
is ? Simply a taggot of vegetables, named after
a notorious cuckold of noble birth in the time
of Louis XV. Two carrots, two onions, two
shalots, two bay-leaves, a sprig of thyme and a
clove of garlic. Mince very small, with half a
pound of fat bacon, half a pound of raw ham,
pepper and salt, and a little butter. Add a
sufficiency of white wine. In this mixture
cook two dozen crayfish for twenty minutes,
continually tossing them about till red, when
take them out to cool. Shell them, all but the
claws, which should be pounded in a mortar and
mixed with butter. The flesh of the tails is
reserved to be put in the soup at the last minute ;
the body- flesh goes back into the mirepolx^ to
which two quarts of broth are now added. Add
the pounded shells to the soup, simmer for an
hour and a half, strain, heat up, add a piece of
90 CAKES AND ALE
butter, the tails, a seasoning of cayenne, and a
few quenelles of whiting.
Vol-au-vent Financiers, This always reminds
me of the fearful threat hurled by the waiter in
the " Bab Ballads " at his flighty sweetheart :
" Flirtez toujours, ma belle, si tu oses,
Je me vengerai ainsi, ma chere :
Je lui dirai d'quoi on compose
Vol-au-vent a la Financiere ! "
Make your crust light as air, and flaky as snow,
an you value your situation and fill with button
mushrooms, truffles, cock's-combs, quenelles of chicken,
and sweetbread, all chopped, seasoned, and moistened
with a butter sauce. Brown gravy is objection-
able. Garnish the Vol with fried parsley, which
which goes well with most luxuries of this sort.
There are some words which occur frequently
in French cookery which, to the ordinary per-
fidious Briton, are cruelly misleading. For
years I was under the impression that Brillat
Savarln was a species of filleted fish (brill) in a
rich gravy, instead of a French magistrate, who
treated gastronomy poetically, and always ate his
food too fast. And only within the last decade
have I discovered what a
Pre Sale
really means. Literally, it is "salt meadow, or
marsh." It is said that sheep fed on a salt marsh
make excellent mutton ; but is it not about time
for Britannia, the alleged pride of the ocean, and
ruler of its billows, to put her foot down and
protest against a leg of "prime Down" but
DINNER 91
recently landed from the Antipodes being
described on the card as a Gigot de pre sale ?
The meals, like the ways, of the " Heathen
Chinee" are peculiar. Some of his food, to
quote poor Corney Grain, is "absolutely beastly."
Li Hung Chang
was welcomed to Carlton House Terrace, London,
with a dinner, in twelve courses, the following
being the principal items: Roast duck, roast
pork and raspberry jam, followed by dressed
cucumber. Shrimps were devoured, armour and
all, with leeks, gherkins, and mushrooms. A
couple of young chickens preserved in wine and
vinegar, with green peas, a puree of pigeon's legs
followed by an assortment of sour jellies. The
banquet concluded with sponge cakes and tea.
In his own land the
Chinaman } s Evening Repast
is much more variegated than the above. It is
almost as long as a Chinese drama, and includes
melon seeds, bitter almonds, bamboo sprouts,
jelly-fish, cucumber, roast duck, chicken stewed
in spirit dregs, 1 peas, prawns, sausages, scalleons,
fish-brawn, pork chops, plum blossoms, oranges,
bird's-nest soup, pigeons' eggs in bean curd the
eggs being " postponed " ones fungus, shrimps,
macerated fish-fins, ham in flour, ham in honey,
turnip cakes, roast sucking-pig, fish maws, roast
1 This dish must somewhat resemble the "Fixed Bayonet,"
which at one time was the favourite tit-bit of " Tommy Atkins,"
when quartered in India. It consisted of a fowl, stuffed with
green chilis, and boiled in rum. The fowl was picked to the
bones, and the soldier wound up with the soup. Very tasty !
H
92 CAKES AND ALE
mutton, wild ducks' feet, water chestnuts, egg
rolls, lily seeds, stewed mushrooms, dressed crab
with jam, chrysanthemum pasties, beche-de-mer^
and pigs' feet in honey. Can it be wondered at
that this nation should have been brought to its
knees by gallant little Japan ?
The Englishman in China
has not a particularly good time of it, in the
gastronomic way, and H.M. forces in Hong
Kong are largely dependent on Shanghai for
supplies. There is "plenty pig" all over the
land ; but the dairy-fed pork of old England is
preferable. And the way " this little pig goes
to market " savours so strongly of the most
refined cruelty that a branch of the R.S.P.C.A.
would have the busiest of times of it over yonder.
Reverting to French cookery, here is an
appetising dish, called a
Bernardin Salmi.
It should be prepared in the dining-room, before
the eyes of the guests j and Grimod de la
Reyniere (to whom the recipe was given by the
prior of an abbey of Bernardin monks) recom-
mends that the salmi should be conveyed to the
mouth with a fork, for fear of devouring one's
fingers, should they touch the sauce.
Take three woodcocks, underdone, and cut them
into neat portions. On a silver dish bruise the
livers and trails, squeeze over them the juice of
four (?) lemons, and grate over them a little of the
thin rind. Add the portions of woodcock, seasoned
with salt, and according to the prior mixed spices
DINNER 93
and two teaspoonfuls of French mustard ; but the
writer would substitute cayenne seul ; over all half
a wine-glass of sherry ; and then put the dish over
a spirit lamp. When the mixture is nearly boiling,
add a tablespoonful of salad oil, blow out the light,
and stir well. Four lemons are mentioned in this
recipe, as at the time it was written lemons were
very small when " cocks " were " in." Two imported
lemons (or limes) will amply suffice nowadays.
A Salmi of Wild Duck
can be made almost in the same way, but here
the aid of that modern instrument the Duck-
Squeezer is necessary.
Cut the best of the meat in slices, off a lightly-
roasted wild-duck, after brought to table ; break up
the carcase and place in a species of mill (silver)
called a "duck-squeezer," which possesses a spout
through which the richness of the animal escapes,
after being squeezed. Make a gravy of this liquor,
in a silver dish (with a spirit lamp beneath), added
to a small pat of butter, the juice of a lemon, a
table-spoonful of Worcester sauce, with cayenne and
salt to taste, and half a wine-glassful of port wine.
Warm the meat through in this gravy, which mus
not boil.
Of course these two last-named dishes are only
intended for bachelor -parties. Lovely woman
must not be kept waiting for " duck-squeezers "
or anything else.
The Jesuits
introduced the turkey into Europe, of which
feat the Jesuits need not boast too much - } for to
94 CAKES AND ALE
some minds there be many better edible birds ; and
the " gobbler " requires, when roasted or boiled,
plenty of seasoning to make him palatable. The
French stuff him in his roasted state, with
truffles, fat forcemeat, or chestnuts, and invariably
"bard " the bird "bard " is old English as well
as old French with fat bacon. The French
turkey is also frequently brazed, with an abundant
mirepoix made with what their cooks call
"Madere," but which is really Marsala. It is
only we English who boil the " gobbler," and
stuff him (or her, for it is the hen who usually
goes into the pot) with oysters, or forcemeat,
with celery sauce. Probably the best parts of
the turkey are his legs, when grilled for breakfast,
and smothered with the sauce mentioned in one
of the chapters on " Breakfast " ; and
Pulled Turkey
makes an agreeable luncheon -dish, or entrte at
dinner, the breast-meat being pulled off the bone
with a fork, and fricasseed, surrounded in the dish
by the grilled thighs and pinions.
Who introduced the turkey into America
deponent sayeth not. Probably, like Topsy,
it " growed " there. Anyhow the bird is so
familiar a table-companion in the States, that
Americans, when on tour in Europe, fight very
shy of him. "Tukkey, sah, cranberry sarce,"
used to be the stereotyped reply of the black
waiter when interrogated on the subject of the
bill of fare.
Coloured Help
is, however, gradually being ousted (together
DINNER 95
with sulphur matches) from the big hotels in
New York, where white waiting and white food
are coming into, or have come into, regular use.
In fact, with the occasional addition of one or
other of such special dishes as terrapin, soft-shell
crab, clam chowder, and the everlasting pork
and beans, a dinner in New York differs very
little at the time of writing (1897) from one in
London. The taste for
Clam Chowder
is an acquired one, nor will stewed tortoise ever
rank with thick turtle in British estimation,
although 'tis not the same tortoise which is used in
London households to break the coals with. A
Canvass-back
if eaten in the land of his birth, is decidedly the
most delicately-flavoured of all the "Quack"
family. His favourite food is said to be wild
celery, and his favoured haunts the neighbourhood
of Chesapeake Bay, from whose waters comes
the much prized " diamond -back " terrapin,
which is sold at the rate of 50$ or 60$ the dozen.
The canvass-back duck, however, suffers in trans-
portation ; in fact, the tendency of the ice-house
aboard ship is to rob all food of its flavour.
But however good be the living in
New York City
where the hotels are the best in the world, and
whose MR. DELMONICO can give points to all
sorts and conditions of food caterers it is "a
bit rough " in the provinces. There is a story
96 CAKES AND ALE
told of a young actor, on tour, who "struck"
a small town out West, and put up at a small
inn. In the course of time dinner was served,
and the landlord waited at table. The principal
cover was removed, disclosing a fine joint of
coarsish, indifferently-cooked beef. Our young
actor was strangely moved at the sight.
" What ? " he cried. Beef again ? This is
horrible ! I've seen no other food for months,
and I'm sick and tired of it. I can't eat beef."
Whereupon his host whipped out a huge
u six-shooter " revolver, and covering the recalci-
trant beef-eater, coolly remarked :
" Guess you kin ! "
But I don't believe that story, any more than
I believe the anecdote of the cowboys and the
daylight let through the visitor who couldn't eat
beans.
CHAPTER IX
DINNER (continued)
"The combat deepens. On ye brave,
The cordon bleu, and then the grave !
Wave, landlord ! all thy menus wave,
And charge with all thy devilry ! "
French soup A regimental dinner A city banquet Baksheesh
Aboard ship An ideal dinner Cod's liver Sleeping in the
kitchen A Jricandeau Regimental messes Peter the
Great Napoleon the Great Victoria The Iron Duke
Mushrooms A medical opinion A North Pole banquet
Dogs as food Plain unvarnished fare The Kent Road
cookery More beans than bacon.
" WHAT'S in a name ? " inquired the love-sick
Juliet. What ? " echoes the bad fairy " Ala^
After all the fuss made by the French over their
soups, we might expect more variety than is
given us. If it be true that we English have only
one sauce, it is equally true that our lively neigh-
bours have only one soup and that one is a broth.
It is known to the frequenters of restaurants
under at least eleven different names :> Brunoise^
Jardiniere^ Printanier^ Chiffonade, Afacedoine^
9 8 CAKES AND ALE
Julienne^ Faubonne^ Paysanne^ Flamande, Miton-
nage^ Croute au Pot^ and, as Sam Weller would
say, " It's the flavouring as does it." It is simply
bouillon^ plain broth, and weak at that. The
addition of a cabbage, or a leek, or a common
or beggar's crust, will change a potags a la
Jardiniere into a Croute au Pot^ and vice versa.
Great is " Ala " ; and five hundred per cent is
her profit !
The amount of money lavished by diners-
about upon the productions of the alien chef
would be ludicrous to consider, were not the
extravagance absolutely criminal. The writer
has partaken of about the most expensive dinner
English for the most part, with French names to
the dishes that could be put on the table, the
charge being (including wines) one guinea per
mouth. Another banquet, given by a gay youth
who had acquired a large sum through ruining
somebody else on the Stock Exchange the meal
positively reeking of Ala was charged for by
the hotel manager at the rate of sixteen pounds per
head, also including wines. I was told afterwards,
though I am still sceptical as to the veracity of
the statement, that the flowers on the table at
that banquet cost alone more than ^75. And
only on the previous Sunday, our host's father
a just nobleman and a God-fearing had
delivered a lecture, at a popular institution, on
"Thrift."
Here follows the menu of the above-mentioned
guinea meal,
DINNER
99
A Regimental Dinner^
held at a well-known city house.
Vim.
Madere.
Ponche Glace.
Schloss Johannisberg.
Amontillado.
Champagne.
Piper Heidsieck, 1884.
Boll et Cie., 1884.
Burgundy.
Romance, 1855.
Port, 1851.
Claret.
Chateau Leoville.
Hors d'GEu'vres.
Crevettes. Thon Marine. Beurre.
Radis.
Potages.
Tortuf Claire et Lice.
Gras de Tortue Vert.
Rele-ves de Tortue.
Ailerons aux fines Herbes.
Cotelettes a la Perigueux.
Poissons.
Souche de Saumon.
Turbot au Vin Blanc.
Blanchaille Nature et Kari.
Entrees.
Supreme de Ris de Veau a la Princesse.
Aspic de Homard.
Releves.
Venaison, Sauce Groseille.
York Ham au Champagne.
Poulardes a 1'Estragon.
Asperges. Haricots Verts.
Pommes Rissoliees.
Rot.
Canetons de Rouen.
Entremets,
Ananas a la Creole. Patisserie Parisienne.
Gelecs Panachees.
Glace.
Souffles aux Praises.
Liqueurs.
Dessert, etc.
And some of the younger officers complained
bitterly at having to pay ^i : is. for the privilege
of" larking" over such a course !
160 CAKES AND ALE
There are only three faults I can find in the
above programme : ( I ) Confusion to the man
who expects the British Army to swallow green
fat in French. (2) Whitebait is far too delicately
flavoured a fowl to curry. (3) Too much eating
and drinking.
City Dinners
are for the most part an infliction (or affliction)
on the diner. With more than fourscore sitting
at meat, the miracle of the loaves and fishes is
repeated with, frequently, the fish left out.
" I give you my word, dear old chappie," once
exclaimed a gilded youth who had been assisting
at one of these functions, to the writer, " all I
could get hold of, during the struggle, was an
orange and a cold plate ! "
The great and powerful system of
Baksheesh^
of course, enters largely into these public enter-
tainments ; and the man who omits to fee the
waiter in advance, as a rule, " gets left." Book-
makers and others who go racing are the
greatest sinners in this respect. A well-known
magnate of the betting-ring (1896) invariably,
after arriving at an hotel, hunts up the chef> and
sheds upon him a " fiver," or a " tenner," accord-
ing to the size of the house, and the repute of its
cookery. And that metallician and his party
are not likely to starve during their stay,
whatever may be the fate of those who omit to
" remember " the Commissariat Department. I
have seen the same bookmaker carry, with his own
hands, the remains of a great dish of " Hot-pot "
DINNER ibi
into the dining-room of his neighbours, who had
been ringing for a waiter, and clamouring for
food for the best part of an hour, without effect.
The same system prevails aboard ship ; and
the passenger who has not propitiated the head
steward at the commencement of the voyage
will not fare sumptuously. The steamship com-
panies may deny this statement ; but 'tis true
nevertheless.
Dinner Afloat.
Here is an average dinner-card during a life
on the ocean wave :
Julienne soup, boiled salmon with shrimp sauce,
roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, jugged hare,
French beans a la Mattre d* Hotel, chicken curry,
roast turkey with puree of chestnuts, fanchouettes
(what are they?), sausage rolls, greengage tarts,
plum-puddings, lemon -jellies, biscuits and cheese,
fruit,
Plenty of variety here, though some epicures
might resent the presence of a sausage-roll (the
common or railway-station bag of mystery) on
the dinner table. But since the carriage of live
stock aboard passenger ships has been abandoned,
the living is not nearly as good ; for, as before
observed, the tendency of the ice-house is to
make all flesh taste alike. Civilisation has,
doubtless, done wonders for us ; but most people
prefer mutton to have a flavour distinct from
that of beef.
Ideal Dinner
was partaken of in a little old-fashioned hostelry
i02 CAKES AND ALE
(at the west end of London), whose name the
concentrated efforts of all the wild horses in the
world would not extract. Familiarity breeds
contempt, and publicity oft kills that which
is brought to light. Our host was a wine-
merchant in a large way of business.
" I can only promise you plain food, good sirs,"
he mentioned, in advance "no foreign kick-
shaws - y but everything done to a turn."
Six of us started with clear turtle, followed by
a thick wedge out of the middle of a patriarchal
codfish, with plenty of liver. And here a pause
must be made. In not one cookery-book known
to mankind can be found a recipe for cooking the
Liver of a Cod.
Of course it should not be cooked with the fish,
but in a separate vessel. The writer once went
the rounds of the kitchens to obtain information
on this point.
" 'Bout half-an-hour," said one cook, a " hard-
bitten " looking food-spoiler.
" Ma foi ! I cook not at all the liver of the
cod," said an unshorn son of Normandy. " He
is for the malade only."
Afte^: asking a number of questions, and a
journey literally " round the town," the deduction
made from the various answers was that a piece
of liver enough for six people would take eight-
een minutes, after being placed in boiling water.
To continue with our dinner. No sauce
with the oysters, but these simply scalded in
their own liquor. Then came on a monster
steak, an inch thick, cut from the rump immedi-
DINNER 103
ately before being placed on the gridiron. And
here a word on the grilling of a steak. We
English place it nearer the fire than do our
lively neighbours, whose grills do not, in conse-
quence, present that firm surface which is the
charm of an English steak. The -late Mr.
Godfrey Turner of the Daily Telegraph (who
was almost as great an authority as Mr. Sala
on gastronomies) once observed to the writer,
"Never turn your steak, or chop, more than
once." Though by no means a disciple of
Ala, he was evidently a believer in the French
method of grilling, which leaves a sodden, flabby
surface on the meat. The French cook only
turns a steak once j but if he had his gridiron as
close to the fire as his English rival, the chef
would inevitably cremate his mor^eau d'baeuf. I
take it that in grilling, as in roasting, the meat
should, in the first instance, almost touch the
glowing embers.
We had nothing but horse-radish with our
steak, which was succeeded by golden plovers
(about the best bird that flies) and marrow
bones. And a dig into a ripe Stilton concluded
a banquet which we would not have exchanged
for the best efforts of Francatelli himself.
Yes despite the efforts of the bad fairy Ala^
the English method of cooking good food if
deftly and properly employed is a long way the
better method, > Unfortunately, through the fault
of the English themselves, this method is but
seldom employed deftly or properly. And at a
cheap English eating-house the kitchen is usu-
ally as dirty and malodorous as at an inexpensive
io 4 CAKES AND ALE
foreign restaurant. As both invariably serve as
sleeping apartments during the silent watches of
the night, this is, perhaps, not altogether to be
wondered at.
But there is one plat in the French cookery
book which is not to be sneered at, or even con-
demned with faint praise. A properly-dressed
frlcandeau is a dainty morsel indeed. In fact the
word fricand means, in English, "dainty."
Here is the recipe of the celebrated Gouffe for
the FRICANDEAU :
Three pounds of veal fillet, trimmed, and larded
with fat bacon. Put in the glazing stewpan the
trimmings, two ounces of sliced carrot, two ditto
onion, with pepper and salt. Lay the fricandeau on
the top ; add half a pint of broth ; boil the broth
till it is reduced and becomes thick and yellow ;
add a pint and a half more broth, and simmer for an
hour and a quarter the stewpan half covered
Then close the stewpan and put live coals on the
top. Baste the fricandeau with the gravy pre-
sumably after the removal of the dead coals every
four minutes till it is sufficiently glazed ; then take
it out and place on a dish. Strain the gravy, skim
off the fat, and pour over the meat. It may be
added that a spirit lamp beneath the dish is (or
should be) de rigueur.
In their clubs, those (alleged) " gilded saloons
of profligacy and debauchery, favoured of the
aristocracy," men, as a rule dine wisely, and well,
and, moreover, cheaply. The extravagant diner-
out, with his crude views on the eternal fitness
of things, selects an hotel, or restaurant, in the
which, although the food may be of the worst
DINNER 105
quality, and the cookery of the greasiest, the
charges are certain to be on the millionaire scale.
For bad dinners, like bad lodgings, are invariably
the dearest.
At the Mess-Table
of the British officer there is not much riot or
extravagance nowadays, and the food is but in-
differently well cooked ; though there was a
time when the youngest cornet would turn up
his nose at anything commoner than a "special
cuvee " of champagne, and would unite with his
fellows in the "bear -fight" which invariably
concluded a "guest night," and during which
the messman, or one of his myrmidons, was
occasionally placed atop of the ante-room fire.
And there was one messman who even preferred
that mode of treatment to being lectured by his
colonel. Said officer was starchy, punctilious,
and long-winded, and upon one occasion, when
the chaplain to the garrison was his guest at
dinner, addressed the terrified servant somewhat
after this wise :
"Mr. Messman I have this evening bidden
to our feast this eminent divine, who prayeth
daily that we may receive the fruits of the earth
in due season ; to which I, an humble layman,
am in the habit of responding : c We beseech thee
to hear us, good Lord.' Mr. Messman, don't
let me see those d- d figs on the table again."
At a military guest-night in India, a turkey
and a " Europe " ham are or were de rigueur
at table ; and on the whole the warrior fares
well, if the khansamah do not attempt luxuries.
106 CAKES AND ALE
His chicken cutlets are not despicable, and we
can even forgive the repetition of the vilolif^ but
his blfisteakishtoo (stewed steak) is usually too
highly-spiced for the European palate. Later in
the evening, however, he will come out strong
with duvlebone^ and grilled sardines in curlpapers.
The presence of the bagpipes, in the mess-room
of a Highland regiment, when men have well
drunk, is cruelly unkind to the Saxon guest at
all events. The bagpipe is doubtless a melodious
instrument (to trained ears), but its melodies are
apt to "hum i* th* head o'er muckle ye ken,"
after a course of haggis washed down with
sparkling wines and old port.
"Tell me what a man eats," said Brillat
Savarin, " and I'll tell you what he is."
Peter the Great
did not like the presence of" listening lacqueys"
in the dining-room. Peter's favourite dinner was,
like himself, peculiar : " A soup, with four cabbages
in it ; gruel ; pig, with sour cream for sauce ; cold
roast meat with pickled cucumbers or salad ;
lemons and lamprey, salt meat, ham, and Limburg
cheese."
" Lemons and lamprey " must have had a
roughish seat, atop of pig and sour cream. I
once tasted lampreys only once. It was in
Worcestershire, and said lampreys were stewed
(I fancy) in burgundy, and served in a small
tureen en casserole^ our lively neighbours would
have called the production, which was grateful,
but much embarrassed with richness.
jfioldb 1 Bowen&Co
DINNER 107
Napoleon the Great^
whose tastes were simple, is said to have preferred
a broiled breast of mutton to any other dinner-
dish. Napoleon III., however, encouraged ex-
travagance of living ; and Zola tells us in Le
Debacle that the unfortunate emperor, ill as he
was, used to sit down to so many courses of rich
foods every night until "the downfall" arrived
at Sedan, and that a train of cooks and scullions
with (literally) a " batterie" de cuisine^ was
attached to his staff.
Her Majesty
Queen Victoria's dinner-table is invariably graced
with a cold sirloin of beef, amongst other joints ;
and the same simple fare has satisfied the aspira-
tions and gratified the palate of full many a
celebrity. The great
Duke of Wellington
was partial to a well-made Irish stew; and
nothing delighted Charles Dickens more than a
slice out of the breast of a hot roast-goose.
A word about the mushroom. Although said
to be of enormous value in sauces and ragouts, I
shall always maintain that the mushroom is best
when eaten all by his quaint self. His flavour is
so delicate that 'tis pitiful to mix him with fish,
flesh, or fowl more especially the first- named.
I have seen mushrooms and bacon cooked
together, and I have seen beaf- steak N (cut into
small pieces) and bacon cooked together,
and it was with some difficulty that my Irish
host got me but of the kitchen. If ever I am
I
io8 CAKES AND ALE
hanged, it will be for killing a cook. Above
all never eat mushrooms which you have not
seen in their uncooked state. The mushroom,
like the truffle, loses more flavour the longer he
is kept ; and to " postpone " either is fatal.
"The plainer the meal the longer the life."
Thus an eminent physician already mentioned
in these pages. "We begin with soup, and
perhaps a glass of cold punch, to be followed by
a piece of turbot, or a slice of salmon with
lobster sauce ; and while the venison or South-
down is getting ready, we toy with a piece of
sweetbread, and mellow it with a bumper of
Madeira. No sooner is the mutton or venison
disposed of, with its never- failing accompani-
ments of jelly and vegetables, than we set the
whole of it in a ferment with champagne, and
drown it with hock and sauterne. These are
quickly followed by the wing and breast of a
partridge, or a bit of pheasant or wild duck ; and
when the stomach is all on fire with excitement,
we cool it for an instant with a piece of iced
pudding, and then immediately lash it into a fury
with undiluted alcohol in the form of cognac
or a strong liqueur ; after which there comes
a spoonful or so of jelly as an emollient, a morsel
of ripe Stilton as a digestant, a piquant salad to
whet the appetite for wine, and a glass of old port
to persuade the stomach, if it can, into quietness.
All these are more leisurely succeeded by dessert,
with its baked meats, its fruits, and its strong
drinks, to be afterwards muddled with coffee,
and complicated into a rare mixture with tea,
floating with the richest cream,"
DINNER 109
Hoity, toity ! And not a word about a French
plat, or even a curry, either ! But we must
remember that this diatribe comes from a gentle-
man who has laid down the theory that cold
water is not only the cheapest of beverages, but
the best. Exception, too, may be taken to the
statement that a " piquant salad " whets the
appetite for wine. I had always imagined that a
salad and, indeed, anything with vinegar in its
composition rather spoilt the human palate for
wine than otherwise. And what sort of " baked
meats " are usually served with desert ?
How the Poor Live.
An esteemed friend who has seen better days,
sends word how to dine a man, his wife, and
three children for jd. He heads his letter
The Kent Road Cookery.
A stew is prepared with the following ingredi-
ents : lib. bullock's cheek (3^d.), i pint white
beans (id.), i pint lentils (id.), pot-herbs (id.),
2 Ib. potatoes (id.) Total ;d.
When he has friends, the banquet is more
expensive : I Ib. bullock's cheek (3^d.), A Ib.
cow-heel (2-^d.), i Ib. leg of beef (3d.), i pint
white beans (ad.), i pint lentils (id.), pot-herbs
(id.), 5 Ib. potatoes (2d.) total is. 30*.
As we never know what may happen, the
above menus may come in useful.
Doctor Nanserfs Banquet
on the ice-floe, to celebrate his failure to discover
the Pole, was simple enough, at all events. But
I xo CAKES AND ALE
it would hardly commend itself to the fin de
sieclc "Johnny. There was raw gull in it, by
way of a full-flavoured combination of poisson
and entree ; there was meat chocolate in it, and
peli I should say, pemmican. There were
pancakes, made of oatmeal and dog's blood,
fried in seal's blubber. And I rather fancy the
releve was Chien au nature. For in his most
interesting work, Across Greenland^ Doctor
Nansen has inserted the statement that the
man who turns his nose up at raw dog for
dinner is unfit for an Arctic expedition. For
my own poor part, I would take my chance
with a Porterhouse steak, cut from a Polar bear.
Prison Fare.
Another simple meal. Any visitor to one
of H.M. penitentiaries may have noticed in
the cells a statement to the effect that " beans
and bacon" may be substituted for meat, for
the convicts' dinners, on certain days. " Beans
and bacon" sounds rural, if not absolutely bucolic.
" Fancy giving such good food to the wretches ! "
once exclaimed a lady visitor. But those who
have sampled the said "beans and bacon" say
that it is hardly to be preferred to the six ounces
of Australian dingo or the coarse suet -duff
(plumless) which furnish the ordinary prison
dinner. For the table-spoonful of pappy beans
with which the captive staves off starvation are
of the genus " haricot " ; and the parallelogram
of salted hog's-flesh which accompanies the beans
does not exceed, in size, the ordinary railway
ticket.
CHAPTER X
VEGETABLES
" Herbs and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses."
Ue and abuse of the potato Its eccentricities Its origin
Hawkins, not Raleigh, introduced it into England With or
without the "jacket"? Don't let it be a-/a-e<\ Benevol-
ence and large-heartedness of the cabbage family Peas on
earth Pythagoras on the bean "Giving him beans"
" Haricot " a misnomer " Borston " beans Frijoles The
carrot Crecy soup The Prince of Wales The Black
Prince and the King of Bohemia.
ITEM, the POTATO, earth-apple, murphy, or spud ;
the most useful, as well as the most exasperating
gift of a bountiful Providence. Those inclined to
obesity may skip the greater part of this chapter.
You can employ a potato for almost anything.
It comes in very handy for the manufacture of
starch, _sugar, Irish stew, Scotcb whisky, and
Colorado beetles. Cut it in half, and with one
half you restore an old master, and with the other
drive the cat from the back garden. More deadly
battles have been waged over the proper way to
cook a potato, than over a parish boundary, or
an Irish eviction. Strong-headed men hurl the
H2 CAKES AND ALE
spud high in air, and receive and fracture it on
their frontal bones ; whilst a juggler like Paul
Cinquevalli can do what he likes with it. Worn
inside the pocket, it is an infallible cure for
chronic rheumatism, fits, and tubercular menin-
gitis. Worn inside the body it will convert a
living skeleton into a Daniel Lambert. Plant
potatoes in a game district, and if they come up
you will find that after the haulms have withered
you can capture all your rich neighbour's pheas-
ants, and half the partridges in the country. A
nicely-baked potato, deftly placed beneath the
root of his tail, will make the worst "jibber" in
the world travel ; whilst, when combined with
buttermilk, and a modicum of meal, the earth-
apple has been known to nourish millions of the
rising generation, and to give them sufficient
strength and courage to owe their back rents,
and accuracy of aim for exterminating the brutal
owner of the soil.
The waiter, bless ye ! the harmless, flat-footed
waiter, doesn't know all this. Potatoes to him are
simply 2d. or 3d. in the little account, according
to whether they be " biled, mash, or soty " ; and
if questioned as to the natural history of the
floury tuber, he would probably assume an air of
injured innocence, and assure you that during his
reign of "thifty-five year, man and boy," that
establishment had "never 'ad no complaints."
The potato is most eccentric in disposition,
and its cultivator should know by heart the
beautiful ode of Horace which commences
Aequam memento rebus in arduis . . .
VEGETABLES 113
The experiences of the writer as a potato
grower have been somewhat mixed, and oc-
casionally like the following : Set your snow-
flakes in deeply - trenched, heavily - manured
ground, a foot apart. In due time you will get
a really fine crop of groundsel, charlock, and
slugs, with enough bind-weed to strangle the sea-
serpent. Clear all this rubbish off, and after a
week or two the eye will be gladdened with the
sight of the delicate green leaf of the tuber peep-
ing through the soil. Slow music. Enter the
Earl of Frost. No ; they will not all be cut off.
You will get one tciber. Peel it carefully, and
place it in the pig-stye the peeling spoils the
quality of the pork. Throw the peeling away
on the bed in which you have sown annuals for
choice and in the late Spring you will have a
row of potatoes which will do you credit.
But this is frivolous. The origin of the
potato is doubtful ; but that it was used by the
ancients, in warfare, is tolerably certain. Long
before the Spaniards reached the New World it
was cultivated largely by the Incas ; and it was
the Spaniards who brought the tuber to Europe, in
the beginning of the sixteenth century. It was
brought to England from Virginia by Sir John
Hawkins in 1563 ; and again in 1586 by Sir
Francis Drake, to whom, as the introducer of
the potato, a statue was erected at Offenburg, in
Baden, in 1853. In schools and other haunts of
ignorance, the credit for the introduction of the
tuber used to be and is (I believe) still given to
Sir Walter Raleigh, who has been wrongly
accredited with as many "good things" as have
n 4 CAKES AND ALE
been Theodore Hook or Sidney Smith. And I
may mention en parenthese, that I don't entirely
believe that cloak story. For many years the
tuber was known in England as the "Batata"
overhaul your Lorna Doone and in France, until
the close cf the eighteenth century, the earth apple
was looked upon with suspicion, as the cause of
leprosy and assorted fevers ; just as the tomato,
at the close of the more civilised nineteenth
century, is said by the vulgar and swine-headed
to breed cancer.
Now then, With or without the jacket ? And
the reader who imagines that I am going to
answer the question has too much imagination.
As the old butler in Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone
observes, there is much to be said on both sides.
Personally I lean to the " no-jacket " side, unless
the tuber be baked ; and I would make it penal
to serve a potato in any other way than boiled,
steamed, or baked. 1 The bad fairy Ala should
have no hand in its manipulation ; and there be
few aesthetic eaters who would not prefer the old-
fashioned " ball of flour " to slices of the sodden
article swimming in a bath of grease and parsley,
and called a Saute. The horrible concoction
yclept "preserved potatoes," which used to be
served out aboard sailing vessels, after the passen-
gers had eaten all the real articles, and which
tasted like bad pease-pudding dressed with furni-
ture polish, is, happily, deceased. And the best
potatoes, the same breed which our fathers and
our forefathers munched in the Covent Garden
1 Kidney potatoes should always be boiled, as steaming makes
them more " waxy."
VEGETABLES 115
"Cave of Harmony," grow, I am credibly informed,
in Jermyn Street. Moreover if you wish to spoil
a dish of good spuds, there is no surer way than
by leaving on the dish - cover. So much for
boiling 'em or steaming 'em.
The CABBAGE is a fine, friendly fellow, who
make? himself at home, and generally useful, in
the garden ; whilst his great heart swells, and
swells, in the full knowledge that he is doing his
level best to please all. Though cut down in
the springtime of his youth, his benevolence is so
great that he will sprout again from his headless
trunk, if required, and given time for reflection.
The Romans introduced him into Great Britain,
but there was a sort of cow-cabbage in the island
before that time which our blue forefathers used
to devour with their bacon, and steaks, in a raw
state.
"The most evolved and final variety of the
cabbage," writes a savant^ " is the CAULIFLOWER,
in which the vegetative surplus becomes poured
into the flowering head, of which the flowering is
more or less checked ; the inflorescence becoming
a dense corymb instead of an open panicle, and
the majority of the flowers aborting " the head
gardener usually tells you all this in the Scottish
language "so as to become incapable of pro-
ducing seed. Let a specially vegetative cabbage
repeat the excessive development of its leaf paren-
chyma, and we have the wrinkled and Blistered
SAVOY, of which the hardy constitution, but com-
parative coarseness, become also more intelligible ;
again a specially vegetative cauliflower gives us
an easily grown and hardy winter variety,
ii6 CAKES AND ALE
BROCCOLI" Broccilo in Costerese "from which,
and not from the ordinary cauliflower, a sprouting
variety arises in turn."
In Jersey the cabbage - stalks are dried, var-
nished, and used as spars for thatched roofs, as
also for the correction of the youthful population.
Cook all varieties of the cabbage in water already
at the boil, with a little salt and soda in it. The
French sprinkle cheese on a cauliflower, to make
it more tasty, and it then becomes
Choufleur au Gratin.
Remove the green leaves, and underboil your
cauliflower. Pour over it some butter sauce in
which have been mixed two ounces of grated cheese
half Gruyere and half Parmesan. Powder with
bread crumbs, or raspings, and with more grated
cheese. Lastly, pour over it a teaspoonful of oiled
butter. Place in a hot oven and bake till the
surface is a golden brown, which should be in from
ten to fifteen minutes. Serve in same dish.
Vegetarians should be particularly careful to
soak every description of cabbage in salt and
water before cooking. Otherwise the vegetarians
will probably eat a considerable portion of animal
food.
Here occurs an opportunity for the recipe for
an elegant dish, which the French call Perdrlx
aux Choux^ which is simply
Partridge Stewed with Cabbage^ etc.
A brace of birds browned in the stewpan with
butter or good dripping, and a portion of a hand of
pickled pork in small pieces, some chopped onion
VEGETABLES 117
and a clove or two. Add some broth, two carrots
(chopped), a bay-leaf, and a chopped sausage or two.
Then add a Savoy cabbage, cut into quarters, and
seasoned with pepper and salt. Let all simmer
together for an hour and a half. Then drain the
cabbage, and place it, squashed down, on a dish.
Arrange the birds in the middle, surround them
with the pieces of pork and sausage, and pour over
all the liquor from the stew.
This is an excellent dish, and savours more of
Teutonic than of French cooking. But you
mustn't tell a Frenchman this, if he be bigger
than yourself.
The toothsome PEA has been cultivated in
the East from time immemorial, though the
ancient Greeks and Romans do not appear to
have had knowledge of such a dainty. Had
Vitellius known the virtues of duck and green
peas he would probably have not been so wrapt up
in his favourite dormice, stuffed with poppy-seed
and stewed in honey. The ancient Egyptians
knew all about the little pulse, and not one of
the leaders of society was mummified without a
pod or two being placed amongst his wrappings.
And after thousand of years said peas, when
sown, have been known to germinate. The
mummy pea-plant, however, but seldom bears
fruit. Our idiotic ancestors, the ancient Britons,
knew nothing about peas, nor do any of their
descendants appear to have troubled about the
vegetable before the reign of the Virgin Queen.
Then they were imported from Holland, together
with schnapps, curacoa, and other things, and
no "swagger" banquet was held without a dish
n8 CAKES AND ALE
of u fresh - shelled 'uns," which were accounted
" fit dainties for ladies, they came so far and cost
so dear." In England up-to-date peas are
frequently accompanied by pigeon pie at table ;
the dove family being especially partial to the
little pulse, either when attached to the haulm,
in the garden, or in a dried state. So that the
crafty husbandman, who possesses a shot gun,
frequently gathereth both pea and pigeon. A
chalky soil is especially favourable to pea cultiva-
tion ; and deal sawdust sprinkled well over the
rows immediately after the setting of the seed
will frustrate the knavish tricks of the field
mouse, who also likes peas. The man who
discovered the affinity between mint and this
vegetable ought to have received a gold medal,
and I would gladly attend the execution of the
caitiff who invented the tinned peas which we
get at the foreign restaurants, at three times the
price of the English article.
Here is a good simple recipe for PEA SOUP,
made from the dried article :
Soak a quart of split peas in rain-water for twelve
hours. Put them in the pot with one carrot, one
onion, one leek, a sprig or two of parsley (all chopped),
one pound of streaky bacon, and three quarts of the
liquor in which either beef, mutton, pork, or poultry
may have been boiled. Boil for nearly three hours,
remove the bacon, and strain the soup through a
tammy. Heat up, and serve with dried mint, and
small cubes of fat bacon fried crisp.
GREEN- PEA SOUP is made in precisely the
same way ; but the peas will not need soaking
VEGETABLES 119
beforehand, and thrifty housewives put in the
shells as well.
Harmless and nutritious a vegetable as the
BEAN would appear to be, it did not altogether
find favour with the ancients. Pythagoras, who
had quaint ideas on the subject of the human
soul, forbade his disciples to eat beans, because
they were generated in the foul ooze out of
which man was created. Lucian, who had a
vivid imagination, describes a philosopher in
Hades who was particularly hard on the bean,
to eat which he declared was as great a crime
as to eat one's father's head. And yet Lucian
was accounted a man of common sense in his
time. The Romans only ate beans at funerals,
being under the idea that the souls of the dead
abode in the vegetable. According to tradition,
the "caller herrin' " hawked in the streets of
Edinburgh were once known as "lives o' men,"
from the risks run by the fishermen. And the
Romans introduced the bean into England by way
of cheering up our blue forefathers. In the Roman
festival of Lemuralia, the father of the family was
accustomed to throw black beans over his head,
whilst repeating an incantation. This ceremony
probably inspired Lucian's philosopher for
whom, however, every allowance should be made,
when we come to consider his place of residence
with his jaundiced views of the Faba vulgaris.
Curiously enough, amongst the vulgar folk, at the
present day, there would seem to be some sort of
prejudice against the vegetable ; or why should
" I'll give him beans " be a synonymous threat
with " I'll do him all the mischief I can ? "
izo CAKES AND ALE
There is plenty of nourishment in a bean ;
that is the opinion of the entire medical faculty.
And whilst beans and bacon make a favourite
summer repast for the farm - labourer and his
family, the dish is also (at the commencement
of the bean season) to be met with at the tables
of the wealthy. The aroma of the flower of the
broad bean was once compared, in one of John
Leech's studies in Punch^ to " the most delicious
'air oil," but, apart from this fragrance, there is but
little sentiment about the Faba vulgarls. A much
more graceful vegetable is the Phaseolus vulgaris^
the kidney, or, as the idiotic French call it, the
haricot bean. It is just as sensible to call a leg
of Welsh mutton a pre sale^ or salt meadow.
No well-behaved hashed venison introduces
himself to our notice unless accompanied by a
dish of kidney beans. And few people in Europe
besides Frenchmen and convicts eat the dried
seeds of this form of bean, which is frequently
sown in suburban gardens to form a fence to
keep out cats. But the suburban cat knows a
trick worth a dozen of that one ; and no bean
that was ever born will arrest his progress, or
turn him from his evil ways. It is criminal to
smother the kidney bean with melted butter at
table. A little oil, vinegar, and pepper agree
with him much better.
In the great continent of America, the kidney-
bean seed, dried, is freely partaken of. Pork and
" Borston " beans, in fact, form the national dish,
and right good it is. But do not attempt any
violent exercise after eating the same. The
Mexicans are the largest bean -eaters in the
VEGETABLES ui
world. They fry the vegetables in oil or stew
them with peppers and onions, and these frijoles
form the principal sustenance of the lower orders.
An English " bean feast " (Vulg. beano) is a feast
at which no beans, and not many other things, are
eaten. The intelligent foreigner may take it that
beano simply means the worship of Bacchus.
With the exception of the onion there is no
more useful aid to cookery of all sorts than the
lowly carrot, which was introduced into England
no, not by the Romans from Holland, in the
sixteenth century. And the ladies who attended
the court of Charles I. were in the habit of wear-
ing carrot leaves in the hair, and on their court
robes, instead of feathers. A similar fashion
might be revived at the present epoch, with
advantage to the banking account of vile man.
As the Flemish gardeners brought over the
roots, we should not despise carrots cooked in the
FLEMISH way. Simmer some young carrots in
butter, with pepper and salt. Add cream (or
milk and yolk of tggs), a pinch of sugar, and a
little chopped parsley.
H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, according to
report, invariably eats carrot soup on the a6th of
August. The French call it " CRCY " soup,
because their best carrots grow there ; and Crecy
it may be remembered was also the scene of a
great battle, when one Englishman proved better
than five Frenchmen. In this battle the Black
Prince performed prodigies of valour, afterwards
assuming the crest of the late Bohemian King
three ostrich feathers (surely these should be
carrot tops ?) with the motto " Jch Dien"
122 CAKES AND ALE
Crecy Soup.
Place a mirepoix of white wine in the pot, and
put a quantity of sliced carrots atop. . Moisten with
broth, and keep simmering till the carrots are done.
Then pour into a mortar, pound, and pass through
a tammy. Thin it with more broth, sweeten in
the proportion of one table-spoonful of sugar to two
gallons of soup ; heat up, pop a little butter in at the
finish, and in serving it add either small cubes of fried
bread, or rice boiled as for curry (see page 145).
CHAPTER XI
VEGETABLES (continued)
"Earth's simple fruits ; we all enjoy them.
Then why with sauces rich alloy them ? "
The brief lives of the best A vegetable with a pedigree
Argenteuil -The Elysian Fields The tomato the emblem of
love " Neeps " Spinach " Stomach- brush" The savoury
tear-provoker Invaluable for wasp-stings Celery merely
cultivated " smallage " The " Apium " The parsnip O
Jerusalem ! The golden sunflower How to get pheasants
A vegetarian banquet " Swelling wisibly."
IT is one of the most exasperating laws and
ordinations of Nature that the nicest things shall
last the shortest time. "Whom the gods love
die young," is an ancient proverb ; and the pro-
duce of the garden which is most agreeable to
man invariably gives out too soon. Look at peas.
Every gardener of worth puts in the seed so that
you may get the different rows of marrow-fats and
telephones and ne plus ultras in u succession " j
and up they all come, at one and the same time,
whilst, if you fail to pick them all at once, the
combined efforts of mildew and the sun will soon
K
i2 4 CAKES AND ALE
save you the labour of picking them at all. Look
at strawberries ; and why can't they stay in our
midst all the year round, like the various members
of the cabbage family ?
Then look at ASPARAGUS. The gardener
who could persuade the heads of this department
to pop up in succession, from January to
December would earn more money than the
Prime Minister. The favourite vegetable of the
ancient Romans was introduced by them, with
their accustomed unselfishness, into Britain, where
it has since flourished more particularly in the
alluvial soil of the Thames valley in the neighbour-
hood of Mortlake and Richmond, ground which
is also especially favourable to the growth of
celery. In an ancient work called De Re Rustica^
Cato the Elder, who was born 234 B.C., has much
to say far more, indeed, than I can translate
without the aid of a dictionary or " crib " about
the virtues and proper cultivation of asparagus ;
and Pliny, another noble Roman, devotes several
chapters of his Natural History (published at the
commencement of the Christian era) to the same
subject. " Of all the productions of your garden "
says this Mr. Pliny, " your chief care will be your
asparagus." And the cheerful and sanguine
householder of to-day who sows his asparagus,
and expects to get it " while he waits " has ample
consolation for disappointment in the reflection
that his labours will benefit posterity, if not the
next tenant.
The foreigners can beat us for size, in the
matter of asparagus ; but ours is a long way in
front for flavour. In France the vegetable is
VEGETABLES 125
very largely grown at Argenteuil on the Seine, a
district which has also produced, and still produces,
a wine which is almost as dangerous to man
as hydrocyanic acid, and which was invariably
served in the restaurants, after the sitting had been
a lengthy one, no matter what special brand
might have been ordered. English hosts play the
same game with their " military " ports and
inferior sherries. The Argenteuil asparagus is
now grown between the vines at least 1000
acres are in cultivation hence the peculiar flavour
which, however grateful it may be to Frenchmen,
is somewhat sickly and not to be compared with
that of the " little gentleman in Green," nearly
the whole of whom we English can consume
with safety to digestion.
According to Greek mythology, asparagus
grew in the Elysian fields ; but whether the
blessed took oil and vinegar with it, or the " bill-
sticker's paste,'* so favoured in middle -class
kitchens of to-day, there is no record. It goes
best, however, with a plain salad dressing a
" spot " of mustard worked into a table-spoonful
of oil, and a dessert-spoonful of tarragon vinegar,
with pepper and salt ad lib.
Asparagus is no longer known in the British
pharmacopoeia, but the French make large medi-
cinal use of its root, which is supposed to still
the action of the heart, like foxglove, and to act
as a preventive of calculi. In cooking the
vegetable, tie in small bundles, which should be
stood on end in the saucepan, so that the delicate
heads should be steamed^ and not touched by the
boiling water. Many cooks will contest this
126 CAKES AND ALE
point ; which, however, does not admit of argu-
ment.
There was once a discussion in a well-known
hostelry, as to whether the
Tomato
was a fruit or a vegetable. Eventually the head-
waiter was invited to solve the great question.
He did so on the spot.
" Tumarter, sir ? Tumarter's a hextra."
And as a "hextra" it has never since that
period ceased to be regarded. A native of South
America, the plant was introduced into Europe
by the Spaniards, late in the sixteenth century,
and the English got it in 1596. Still until a
quarter of a century ago the tomato has not been
largely cultivated, save by the market gardener ;
in fact in private gardens it was conspicuous by
its absence. Those who eat it do not invariably
succumb to cancer ; and the dyspeptic should
always keep it on the premises. As the tomato
is also known as the " love-apple," a great point
was missed by our old friend Sergeant Buzfuz,
in the celebrated Bardell v. Pickwick trial, when
referring to the postscript, "chops, and tomato
sauce." Possibly Charles Dickens was not an
authority on veget I beg pardon, "hextras."
Here is a French recipe for
Tomate au Gratin :
Cut open the tops and scoop out the pulp. Pass
it through a sieve, to clear away the pips, and mix
with it either a modicum of butter, or oil, some
chopped shalot and garlic, with pepper and salt.
VEGETABLES 127
Simmer the mixture for a quarter of an hour, then
stir in some bread-crumbs, previously soaked in broth,
and some yolks of egg. When cold, fill the tomato
skins with the mixture, shake some fine bread rasp-
ings over each, and bake in quick oven for ten or
twelve minutes.
The
Turnip
is not, as might be sometimes imagined, entirely
composed of compressed deal splinters, but is a
vegetable which was cultivated in India long
before the Britons got it. The Scotch call
turnips " neeps " ; but the Scotch will do any-
thing. Probably no member of the vegetable
family is so great a favourite with the insect
pests sent on earth by an all -wise Providence
to prevent mankind having too much to eat.
But see that you get a few turnips to cook when
there is roast duck for dinner.
Spinach
was introduced into Spain by the Arabs, and as
neither nation possessed at that time, at all
events, the attribute of extra- cleanliness, they
must have eaten a great deal of " matter in the
wrong place," otherwise known as dirt. For if
ever there was a vegetable the preparation of
which for table would justify any cook in giving
notice to leave, it is spinach.
The Germans have nick-named it "stomach-
brush," and there is no plant growing which
conduces more to the health of man. But there
has been more trouble over the proper way to
128 CAKES AND ALE
serve it at table than over Armenia. The French
chop up their epinards and mix butter, or gravy,
with the mess. Many English, on the other
hand, prefer the leaves cooked whole. It is all
a matter of taste.
But I seem to scent a soft, sweet fragrance
in the air, a homely and health -giving reek,
which warns me that I have too long neglected
to touch upon the many virtues of the
Onion.
Indigenous to India in the form of
Garlic
(or gar-leek^ the original onion), the Egyptians
got hold of the tear-provoker and cultivated it
2000 years before the Christian era. So that
few of the mortals of whom we have ever read
can have been ignorant of the uses of the onion,
or gar -leek. But knowledge and practice have
enabled modern gardeners to produce larger bulbs
than even the most imaginative of the ancients
can have dreamt of. To mention all the uses
to which the onion is put in the kitchen would
be to write a book too weighty for any known
motive power to convey to the British Museum ;
but it may be briefly observed of the juice of
the Cepa that it is invaluable for almost any
purpose, from flavouring a dish fit to set before
a king, to the alleviation of the inflammation
caused by the poison - bearing needle which the
restless wasp keeps for use within his, or her, tail.
In fact, the inhabited portion of the globe had
better be without noses than without onions.
VEGETABLES 129
Like the tomato, CELERY is a "hextra" and
a very important one. If you buy the heads at
half-a-crown per hundred and sell them at three-
pence a portion, it will not exercise your calcu-
lating powers to discover the profits which can
be made out of this simple root. Celery is
simply cultivated " smallage " ; a weed which
has existed in Britain since the age of ice. It
was the Italians who made the discovery that
educated smallage would become celery ; and it
is worthy of note that their forefathers, the
conquerors of the world, with the Greeks, seem
to have known " no touch of it " as a relish, at
all events ; though some writers will have it that
the "Apium," with which the victors at the
Isthmian and other games were crowned was
not parsley but the leaf of the celery plant. But
what does it matter ? Celery is invaluable as a
flavourer, and when properly cultivated, and not
stringy, a most delightful 'and satisfactory sub-
stance to bite. In fact a pretty woman never
shows to more advantage than when nibbling a
crisp, "short" head of celery provided she
possess pretty teeth.
With boiled turkey, or ditto pheasant, celery
sauce is de rigueur ; and it should be flavoured
slightly with slices of onion, an ounce of butter
being allowed to every head of celery. The
French are fond of it stewed j and as long as the
flavour of the gravy, or jus , does not disguise the
flavour of the celery, it is excellent when thus
treated. Its merits in a salad will be touched
upon in another chapter.
The PARSNIP is a native of England, where
i 3 o CAKES AND ALE
it is chiefly used to make an inferior kind of
spirit, or a dreadful brand of wine. Otherwise
few people would trouble to cultivate the parsnip ;
for we can't be having boiled pork or salt
fish for dinner every day. The VEGETABLE
MARROW is a member of the pumpkin family and
is a comparatively tasteless occupant of the
garden, its appearance in which heralds the
departure of summer. In the suburbs, if you
want to annoy the people next door, you cannot
do better than put in a marrow plant or two.
If they come to anything, and get plenty of
water, they will crawl all over your neighbour's
premises j and unless he is fond of the breed,
and cuts and cooks them, they make him mad.
The frugal housewife, blessed with a large
family, makes jam of the surplus marrows ; but
I prefer a conserve of apricot, gooseberry, or
greengage. Another purpose to which to put
this vegetable is
Scoop out the seeds, after cutting it in half^
lengthways. Fill the space with minced veal
(cooked), small cubes of bacon, and plenty of season-
ing some people add the yoke of an egg put on
the other half marrow, and bake for half-an-hour.
This BAKED MARROW is a cheap and homely
dish which, like many another savoury dish,
seldom finds its way to the rich man's dining-
room.
The ARTICHOKE is a species of thistle ; and
the man who pays the usual high-toned restaurant
prices for the pleasure of eating such insipid
food, is an never mind what. Boil the thing
VEGETABLES 131
in salt and water, and dip the ends of the leaves
in oil and vinegar, or Holland sauce, before
eating. Then you will enjoy the really fine
flavour of the oil and vinegar, or Holland
sauce.
The so-called JERUSALEM ARTICHOKE is
really a species of sunflower. Its tuber is not a
universal favourite, though it possesses far from a
coarse flavour. The plant has nothing whatever
to do with Jerusalem, and never had. Put a
tuber or two into your garden, and you will
have Jerusalem artichokes as long as you live on
those premises. For the vegetable will stay with
you as long as the gout, or the rate-gatherer.
Pheasants are particularly partial to this sort of
crop.
By far the best vegetable production of the
gorgeous East is the
Brlnjal
'Tis oval in shape, and about the size of a hen's
egg, the surface being purple in colour. It is
usually cut in twain and done " on the grating " ;
I have met something very like the brlnjal in
Covent Garden ; but can find no record of the
vegetable's pedigree in any book.
Although there are still many vegetarian
restaurants in our large towns, the prejudice
against animal food is, happily, dying out ; and
if ridicule could kill, we should not hear much
more of the "cranks" who with delightful
inconsistency, would spurn a collop of beef,
and gorge themselves on milk, in every shape
and form. If milk, butter, and cheese be not
132 CAKES AND ALE
animal food I should like to know what is?
And it is as reasonable to ask a man to sustain
life on dried peas and mushrooms as to feed a
tiger on cabbages.
Once, and only once, has the writer attempted a
Vegetarian Banquet.
It was savoury enough ; and possessed the
additional merit of being cheap. Decidedly
"filling at the price" was that meal. We I
had a messmate commenced with (alleged)
Scotch broth which consisted principally of
dried peas, pearl barley, and oatmeal and a large
slice of really excellent brown bread was served,
to each, with this broth. Thereupon followed a
savoury stew of onions and tomatoes, relieved by
a " savoury pie," apparently made from potatoes,
leeks, bread crumbs, butter, and " postponed "
mushrooms. We had "gone straight" up to now,
but both shied a bit at the maccaroni and grated
cheese. We had two bottles of ginger beer
apiece, with this dinner, which cost less than
three shillings for the two, after the dapper little
waitress had been feed. On leaving, we both
agreed to visit that cleanly and well-ordered
little house again, if only from motives of
economy ; but within half an hour that pro-
gramme was changed.
Like the old lady at the tea-drinking, I
commenced to " swell wisibly " ; and so did my
companion.
"Mon alive ! " he gasped. "I feel just for all
the wor-rld like a captive balloon, or a puffy-
VEGETABLES
133
dunter that's a puffing whale, ye ken. I'll
veesit yon onion-hoose nae mair i' ma life ! "
And I think it cost us something like half a
sovereign in old brandy to neutralise the effects
of that vegetarian banquet.
CHAPTER XII
CURRIES
** Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee."
Different modes of manufacture The " native " fraud "That
man's family" The French kari A Parsee curry "The
oyster in the sauce" Ingredients Malay curry Locusts
When to serve What to curry Prawn curry Dry curry,
a champion recipe Rice The Bombay duck.
THE poor Indian grinds his coriander seeds, green
ginger, and other ingredients between two large
flat stones ; taking a whiff at the family " hubble-
bubble " pipe at intervals. The frugal British
housewife purchases (alleged) curry powder in
the warehouse of Italy where it may have lived
on, like Claudian, " through the centuries "
stirs a spoonful or two into the hashed mutton,
surrounds it with a wall of clammy rice, and calls
it BENARES CURRY, made from the recipe of a
very dear uncle who met his death while tiger-
shooting. And you will be in the minority if
you do not cut this savoury meat with a knife,
and eat potatoes, and very often cabbage, with
CURRIES 135
it. The far-seeing eating-house keeper corrals a
Lascar or a discharged Mehtar into the firm,
gives him his board, a pound a month, and a
clean puggaree and Kummerbund daily, and "stars"
him in the bill as an " Indian chef^ fresh from the
Chowringhee Club, Calcutta." And it is part
of the duties of this Oriental supposed by the
unwary to be at least a prince in his native land
to hand the portions of curry, which he may
or may not have concocted, to the appreciative
guests, who enjoy the repast all the more from
having the scent of the Hooghly brought across
the footlights. I was once sadly and solemnly
reproved by the head waiter of a very " swagger "
establishment indeed for sending away, after one
little taste, the (alleged) curry which had been
handed me by an exile from Ind, in snow-white
raiment.
" You really ought to have eaten that, sir,"
said the waiter, u for that man's family have been
celebrated curry-makers for generations."
I smole a broad smile. In the Land of the
Moguls the very babies who roll in the dust
know the secret of curry -making. But that
" that man " had had any hand in the horrible
concoction placed before me I still resolutely
decline to believe. And how can a man be
cook and waiter at the same time ? The " native
curry-maker," depend on it, is more or less of a
fraud ; and his aid is only invoked as an excuse
for overcharging.
At the Oriental Club are served, or used to be
served, really excellent curries, assorted ; for as
there be more ways than one of killing a cat, so
1 36 CAKES AND ALE
are there more curries than one. The French
turn out a horrible mixture, with parsley and
mushrooms in it, which they call karl ; it is
called by a still worse name on the Boulevards,
and the children of our lively neighbours are
frequently threatened with it by their nurses.
On the whole, the East Indian method is the
best ; and the most philanthropic curry I ever
tasted was one which my own Khitmughar had
just prepared, with infinite pains, for his own
consumption. The poor heathen had prospected
a feast, as it was one of his numerous " big
days " ; so, despising the homely dhal^ on the
which, with a plate of rice and a modicum of
rancid butter, he was wont to sustain existence,
he had manufactured a savoury mess of pottage,
the looks of which gratified me. So, at the risk
of starting another Mutiny, it was ordained that
the slave should serve the refection at the table
of the " protector of the poor." And a pukkha
curry it was, too. Another dish of native
manufacture with which the writer became
acquainted was a
Parsee Curry.
The eminent firm of Jehangeer on one occasion
presented a petition to the commanding-officer
that they might be allowed to supply a special
curry to the mess one guest-night. The request
was probably made as an inducement to some of
the young officers to pay a little on account of
their " owings " to the firm ; but it is to be
feared that no special vote of thanks followed the
sampling of that special curry. It was a curry !
CURRIES 137
I tasted it for a week (as the Frenchman did
the soup of Swindon) ; and the Parsee chef
must have upset the entire contents of the spice-
box into it. I never felt more like murder than
when the hotel cook in Manchester put nutmeg
in the oyster sauce ; but after that curry, the
strangling of the entire firm of Jehangeer would,
in our cantonments, at all events, have been
brought in "justifiable homicide."
" Oyster sauce " recalls a quaint simile I once
heard a bookmaker make use of. He was talking
of one of his aristocratic debtors, whom he de-
scribed as sure to pay up, if you could only get
hold of him. " But mark you," continued the
layer of odds, "he's just about as easy to get
hold of as the oyster in the sauce^ at one of our
moonicipal banquets ! " But return we to our
coriander seeds. There is absolutely no reason
why the frugal housewife in this country should
not make her own curry powder from day to
day, as it may be required. Here is an average
Indian recipe ; but it must be remembered that
in the gorgeous East tastes vary as much as
elsewhere, and that Bengal, Bombay, Madras
(including Burmah), Ceylon, and the Straits
Settlements, have all different methods of pre-
paring a curry.
A few coriander and cumin seeds according to
taste eight peppercorns, a small piece of turmeric,
and one dried chili, all pounded together.
When making the curry mixture, take a piece of
the heart of a cabbage, the size of a hen's egg ; chop
it fine and add one sour apple in thin slices the size
of a Keswick codlin, the juice of a medium-sized
138 CAKES AND ALE
lemon, a saltspoonful of black pepper, and a table-
spoonful of the above curry powder. Mix all well
together ; then take six medium-sized onions which
have been chopped small and fried a delicate brown,
a clove of garlic, also chopped small, two ounces of
fresh butter, two ounces of flour, and one pint of
beef gravy. Boil up this lot (which commences
with the onions), and when boiling stir in the rest of
the mixture. Let it all simmer down, and then
add the solid part of the curry, i.e. the meat, cut
in portions not larger than two inches square.
Remember, O frugal housewife, that the
turmeric portion of the entertainment should be
added with a niggard hand. " Too much tur-
meric" is the fault which is found with most
curries made in England. I remember, when a
boy, that there was an idea rooted in my mind
that curries were made with Doctor Gregory's
Powder, an unsavoury drug with which we were
periodically regaled by the head nurse ; and there
was always a fierce conflict at the dinner-table
when the bill-of-fare included this (as we supposed)
physic-al terror. But it was simply the taste of
turmeric to which we took exception.
What is TURMERIC ? A plant in cultivation
all over India, whose tubers yield a deep yellow
powder of a resinous nature. This resinous
powder is sold in lumps, and is largely used for
adulterating mustard ; just as inferior anchovy
sauce is principally composed of Armenian Bole,
the deep red powder with which the actor makes
up his countenance. Turmeric is also used
medicinally in Hindustan, but not this side of
Suez, although in chemistry it affords an in-
CURRIES 139
fallible test for the presence of alkalies. The
CORIANDER has become naturalised in parts of
England, but is more used on the Continent.
Our confectioners put the seeds in cakes and
buns, also comfits, and in Germany, Norway,
Sweden, and (I fancy) Russia, they figure in
household bread. In the south of England,
coriander and caraway seeds are sown side by
side, and crops of each are obtained in alternate
years. The coriander seed, too, is largely used
with that of the caraway and the cumin, for
making the liqueur known as KUMMEL.
CUMIN is mentioned in Scripture as something
particularly nice. The seeds are sweet-savoured,
something like those of the caraway, but more
potent. In Germany they put them into bread,
and the Dutch use them to flavour their cheeses.
The seeds we get in England come principally
from Sicily .and Malta.
And now that my readers know all about the
ingredients of curry-powder it is assumed that
no analysis of the chili, the ginger-root, or the
peppercorn, is needed let them emulate the pupils
of Mr. Wackford Squeers, and u go and do it."
ANOTHER RECIPE for curry-powder includes
fenugreek, cardamoms, allspice, and cloves ; but
I verily believe that this was the powder used in
that abominable Parsee hell-broth, above alluded
to, so it should be cautiously approached, if at all.
" Fenugreek " sounds evil ; and I should say a
curry compounded of the above ingredients
would taste like a "Number One" pick-me-up.
Yet another recipe ( DOCTOR KITCHENER'S)
specifies six ounces of coriander seed, five ounces
HO CAKES AND ALE
of turmeric (ower muckle^ Tm of opeenwn) two
ounces each of black pepper and mustard seed
(ochone !\ half an ounce of cumin seed, half an
ounce of cinnamon (donner und blitzen!), and
one ounce of lesser cardamoms. All these things
are to be placed in a cool oven, kept therein one
night, and pounded in a marble mortar next
morning, preparatory to being rubbed through a
sieve. " Kitchener " sounds like a good cooking
name ; but, with all due respect, I am not going
to recommend his curry-powder.
A MALAY CURRY is made with blanched
almonds, which should be fried in butter till
lightly browned. Then pound them to a paste
with a sliced onion and some thin lemon-rind.
Curry powder and gravy are added, and a small
quantity of cream. The Malays curry all sorts
of fish, flesh, and fowl, including the young
shoots of the bamboo and nice tender, succulent
morsels they are. At a hotel overlooking the
harbour of Point de Galle, Ceylon, "run," at
the time of the writer's visit, by a most convivial
and enterprising Yankee, a cunning concocter of
all sorts of " slings " and " cocktails," there used
to be quite a plethora of curries in the bill-of-fare.
But for a prawn curry there is no place like the
City of Palaces. And the reason for this super-
excellence is that the prawns but that story had,
perhaps, best remain untold.
CURRIED LOCUSTS formed one of the most
eccentric dishes ever tasted by the writer. There
had come upon us that day a plague of these all-
devouring insects. A few billions called on us,
in our kitchen gardens, in passing ; and whilst
CURRIES 141
they ate up every green thing including the
newly-painted wheelbarrow, and the regimental
standard, which had been incautiously left out of
doors our faithful blacks managed to capture
several impis of the marauding scuts, in revenge ;
and the mess-cook made a right savoury plat of
their hind-quarters.
It is criminal to serve curry during the entree
period of dinner. And it is worse form still to
hand it round after gooseberry tart and cream,
and trifle, as I have seen done at one great house.
In the land of its birth, the spicy pottage invari-
ably precedes the sweets. Nubbee Bux marches
solemnly round with the mixture, in a deep dish,
and is succeeded by Ram Lai with the rice.
And in the Madras Presidency, where dry curry
is served as well as the other brand, there is a
procession of three brown attendants. Highly-
seasoned dishes at the commencement of a long
meal are a mistake ; and this is one of the reasons
why I prefer the middle cut of a plain-boiled
Tay salmon, or the tit-bit of a lordly turbo t, or
a flake or two of a Grimsby cod, to a sole
Normande^ or a red mullet stewed with garlic,
mushrooms, and inferior claret. I have even met
homard a P Americalne^ during the fish course, at
the special request of a well-known Duke. The
soup, too, eaten at a large dinner should be as
plain as possible ; the edge being fairly taken off
the appetite by such concoctions as bisque^ bouilla-
baisse^ and mulligatawny all savoury and tasty
dishes, but each a meal in itself. Then I main-
tain that to curry whitebait is wrong ; partly
because curry should on no account be served
H* CAKES AND ALE
before roast and boiled, and partly because the
flavour of the whitebait is too delicate for the
fish to be clad in spices and onions. The lesson
which all dinner-givers ought to have learnt from
the Ancient Romans the first people on record
who went in for aesthetic cookery is that highly-
seasoned and well-peppered dishes should figure
at the end, and not the commencement of a
banquet. Here follows a list of some of the
productions of Nature which it is allowable to
curry.
What to Gurry.
TURBOT. SOLE. COD.
LOBSTER. CRAYFISH. PRAWNS, but not the so-
called "DUBLIN PRAWN," which is delicious when
eaten plain boiled, but no good in a curry.
WnELKS. 1 OYSTERS. SCALLOPS.
MUTTON. VEAL. PORK. CALF'S HEAD. Ox PALATE.
TRIPE.I
EGGS. CHICKEN. RABBIT (the " bunny " lends itself
better than anything else to this method of cooking).
PEASE. KIDNEY BEANS. l VEGETABLE MARROW.
CARROTS. PARSNIPS. BAMBOO SHOOTS. LOCUST
LEGS.
A mistaken notion has prevailed for some time
amongst men and women who write books, that
the Indian curry mixture is almost red-hot to the
taste. As a matter of fact it is of a far milder
nature than many I have tasted " on this side."
Also the Anglo- Indian does not sustain life
entirely on food flavoured with turmeric and garlic.
In fact, during a stay of seven years in the
1 Doubtful starters.
CURRIES 143
gorgeous East, the writer's experience was that
not one in ten touched curry at the dinner table.
At second breakfast otherwise known as "tiffin"
it was a favoured dish ; but the stuff prepared
for the meal of the day or the bulk thereof
usually went to gratify the voracious appetite of
the "mehters" the Hindus who swept out the
mess-rooms, and whose lowness of " caste "
allowed them to eat " anything." An eccentric
meal was the mehter's dinner. Into the empty
preserved-meat tin which he brought round to
the back door I have seen emptied such assorted
pabulum as mock turtle soup, lobster salad, plum
pudding and custard, curry, and (of course), the
surplus vilo/if; and in a few seconds he was
squatting on his heels, and spading into the
mixture with both hands.
In the Bengal Presidency cocoanut is freely
used with a curry dressing ; and as some men have
as great a horror of this addition, as of oil in a
salad, it is as well to consult the tastes of your
guests beforehand.
A PRAWN CURRY I have seen made in
Calcutta as follows, the proportions of spices,
etc., being specially written down by a munshi :
Pound and mix one table-spoonful of coriander
seed, one table-spoonful of poppy seed, a salt-spoonful
of turmeric, half a salt-spoonful of cumin seed, a pinch
of ground cinnamon, a ditto of ground nutmeg, a small
lump of ginger, and one salt-spoonful of salt. Mix
this with butter, add two sliced onions, and fry till
lightly browned. Add the prawns, shelled, and pour
in the milk of a cocoanut. Simmer for twenty
minutes, and add some lime juice.
144 CAKES AND ALE
But the champion of curries ever sampled by
the writer was a dry curry a decided improve-
ment on those usually served in the Madras
Presidency and the recipe (which has been
already published in the Sporting Times and
Lady's Pictorial], only came into the writer's
possession some years after he had quitted the
land of temples.
Dry Curry.
Ib. of meat (mutton, fowl, or white fish).
Ib. of onions.
clove of garlic.
ounces of butter.
dessert-spoonful of curry powder.
dessert-spoonful of curry paste.
dessert-spoonful of chutnee (or tamarind pre-
serve, according to taste).
A very little casareep, which is a condiment (only
obtainable at a few London shops) made from the juice
of the bitter cassava, or manioc root. Casareep is the
basis of that favourite West Indian dish " Pepper-pot."
Salt to taste.
A good squeeze of lemon juice.
First brown the onions in the butter, and then
dry them. Add the garlic, which must be mashed
to a pulp with the blade of a knife. Then mix the
powder, paste, chutnee, and casareep into a thin paste
with the lemon juice. Mash the dried onions into
this, and let all cook gently till thoroughly mixed.
Then add the meat, cut into small cubes, and let all
simmer very gently for three hours. This sounds a
long time, but it must be remembered that the recipe
is for a dry curry ; and when served there should be
no liquid about it.
'Tis a troublesome dish to prepare ; but,
CURRIES 145
judging from the flattering communications
received by the writer, the lieges would seem to
like it. And the mixture had better be cooked
in a double or porridge-saucepan, to prevent any
" catching."
Already, in one of the breakfast chapters, has
the subject of the preparation of rice, to be served
with curry, been touched upon ; but there will
be no harm done in giving the directions again.
Rice for Curry
Soak a sufficiency of rice in cold water until by
repeated strainings all the dirt is separated from it.
Then put the rice into boiling water, and let it
" gallop " for nine or ten minutes no longer. Strain
the water off through a colander, and dash a little
cold water over the rice to separate the grains. Put
in a hot dish, and serve immediately.
A simple enough recipe, surely ? So let us
hear no more complaints of stodgy, clammy,
" puddingy " rice. Most of the cookery books
give far more elaborate directions, but the above
is the method usually pursued by the poor brown
heathen himself.
Soyer's recipe resembles the above j but, after
draining the water from the cooked rice, it is re-
placed in the saucepan, the interior of which has
in the interim been anointed with butter. The
saucepan is then placed either near the fire (not
on it), or in a slow oven, for the rice to swell.
Another way:
After washing the rice, throw it into plenty of
boiling water in the proportion of six pints of water
146 CAKES AND ALE
to one pound of rice. Boil it for five minutes, and
skim it ; then add a wine-glassful of milk for every
half pound of rice, and continue boiling for five
minutes longer. Strain the water off through a
colander, and put it dry into the pot, on the corner
of the stove, pouring over the rice a small piece of
butter, which has been melted in a table-spoonful of
the hot milk and water in which the rice was boiled.
Add salt, and stir the rice for five minutes more.
The decayed denizen of the ocean, dried to the
consistency of biscuit, and known in Hindustan
as a BOMBAY DUCK, which is frequently eaten
with curry, "over yonder," does not find much
favour, this side of Port Said, although I have
met the fowl in certain city restaurants. The
addition is not looked upon with any particular
favour by the writer.
" I have yet to learn " once observed that great
and good man, the late Doctor Joseph Pope, 1 to
the writer, in a discussion on " postponed "
game, " that it is a good thing to put corruption
into the human stomach."
1 Formerly Assistant-Surgeon Royal Artillery. A celebrated
lecturer on "The Inner Man," and author of Number One,
and How to take Care of Him, etc.
CHAPTER XIII
SALADS
** O green and glorious, O herbaceous meat !
'Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat.
Back to the world he'd turn his weary soul,
And dip his fingers in the salad bowl ! "
Nebuchadnezzar v. Sydney Smith Salt? No salad-bowl French
origin Apocryphal story of Francatelli Salads and salads
Water-cress and dirty water Salad-maker born not made
Lobster salad Lettuce, Wipe or wash ? Mayonnaise
Potato salad Tomato ditto Celery ditto A memorable
ditto.
IF Sydney Smith had only possessed the experience
of old King Nebuchadnezzar, after he had been
" turned out to grass," the witty prebend might
not have waxed quite so enthusiastic on the
subject of "herbaceous meat." Still the subject
is a vast and important one, in its connection
with gastronomy, and lends itself to poetry far
easier than doth the little sucking pig, upon
whom Charles Lamb expended so great and
unnecessary a wealth of language.
But look at the terse, perfunctory, and far
from satisfactory manner in which the Ency-
148 CAKES AND ALE
cloptedia attacks the subject. " Salad," we read,
" is the term given to a preparation of raw herbs
for food. It derives its name from the fact that
salt is one of the chief ingredients used in dressing
a salad." This statement is not only misleading
but startling ; for in the " dressing " of a salad it
would be the act of a lunatic to make salt the
"chief ingredient."
Long before they had learnt the art of dress-
ing the herbs, our ancestors partook of cresses
(assorted), celery, and lettuces, after being soaked
in water for a considerable period ; and they
dipped the raw herbs into salt before consuming
them. In fact, in many a cheap eating-house
of to-day, the term " salad " means plain lettuce,
or cress, or possibly both, absolutely undressed
in a state of nature, plus plenty of dirty water.
Even the English cook of the end of the nine-
teenth century cannot rid himself, or herself, of
the idea that lettuce, like water-cress, knows the
running brook, or the peaceful pond, as its
natural element. And thirty years before the
end of that century, a salad bowl was absolutely
unknown in nine-tenths of the eating-houses of
Great Britain.
There is no use in blinking the fact that it
is to our lively neighbours that we owe the
introduction of the salad proper. Often as the
writer has been compelled, in these pages, to
inveigh against the torturing of good fish and
flesh by the alien cook, and the high prices
charged for its endowment with an alien flavour,
let that writer (figuratively) place a crown of
endive, tipped with baby onions, upon the brows
SALADS 149
of the philanthropist who dressed the first salad,
and gave the recipe to the world. That recipe
has, of course, been improved upon ; and although
the savant who writes in the Encylop<edia pro-
claims that "salad has always been a favourite
food with civilised nations, and has varied very
little in its composition," the accuracy of both
statements is open to question.
" Every art," observes another writer, " has its
monstrosities ; gastronomy has not been behind-
hand ; and though he must be a bold man who
will venture to blaspheme the elegancies of
French cookery, there comes a time to every
Englishman who may have wandered into a
mistaken admiration of sophisticated messes,
when he longs for the simple diet of his native
land, and vows that the best cookery in the
world, and that which satisfies the most refined
epicureanism, sets up for its ideal plainness of
good food, and the cultivation of natural tastes."
And yet the French have taught us, or tried to
teach us, how to prepare a dish of raw herbs, in
the simplest way in the world !
"Now a salad," says the same writer, "is
simplicity itself, and here is a marvel it is the
crowning grace of a French dinner, while, on the
other hand, it is little understood and villainously
treated at English tables." Ahem ! I would
qualify that last statement. At some English
tables I have tasted salads compared with which
the happiest effort of the chef deserves not to be
mentioned in the same garlic-laden breath. And
"garlic- laden breath" naturally reminds me of
the story of Francatelli of which anecdote I do
150 CAKES AND ALE
not believe one word, by the way. It was said
of Franc., whilst chef at the Reform Club, that
his salads were such masterpieces, such things of
beauty, that one of the members questioned him
on the subject.
"How do you manage to introduce such a
delicious flavour into your salads ? "
" Ah ! that should be my secret," was the
reply. " But I will tell him to you. After I have
made all my preparations, and the green food is
mixed with the dressing, I chew a little clove of
garlic between my teeth so and then breathe
gently over the whole."
But, as observed before, I do not believe that
garlic story.
O salad, what monstrosities are perpetrated in
thy name ! Let the genteel boarding-house
cook -maid, the young lady who has studied
harmony and the higher mathematics at the
Board School, spread herself over the subject ;
and then invite the angels to inspect the matter,
and weep ! For this is the sort of " harmony "
which the "paying guest," who can appreciate
the advantages of young and musical society, an
airy front bed-chamber, and a bicycle room, is ex-
pected to enthuse over at the table d'hote: a melange
of herbs and roots, including water-cress and giant
radishes, swimming in equal parts of vinegar and
oil, and a large proportion of the water in which
the ingredients have been soaking for hours said
ingredients being minced small, like veal collops,
with a steel knife. And the same salad, the very
identical horror, obtrudes itself on the table at
other genteel establishments than boarding-houses.
SALADS 151
For they be "mostly fools" who people the
civilised world.
Let it be laid down as a golden rule, that the
concoction of a salad should never, or hardly ever,
be entrusted to the tender mercies of the British
serving-maid. For the salad-maker, like the poet,
is born, not made ; and the divine afflatus I
don't mean garlic is as essential in the one as
in the other. We will take the simple mixture,
what is commonly known as the
French Salad,
first. This is either composed, in the matter of
herbs, of lettuce, chopped taragon, chervil, and
chives ; or of endive, with, " lurking in the bowl,"
a chapon^ or crust of bread on which a clove of
garlic has been rubbed. But the waiter, an he
be discreet, will ask the customer beforehand if
he prefer that the chapon be omitted. The dress-
ing is simplicity itself:
Within the bowl of a table-spoon are placed, in
succession, a spot of made mustard, and a sprinkling
of black pepper and salt. The bowl is filled up with
vinegar, and with a fork in the other hand the waiter
stirs quickly the mustard, etc., afterwards emptying
the contents of the spoon over the green-stuff. Then
the spoon is refilled either twice or thrice, ad lib.
with Lucca oil, which is also poured over the salad.
Then the final mixing takes place, in the salad bowl.
But there be many and elaborate ways of salad-
making. Here is the writer's idea of a
Lobster Salad
for half-a-dozen guests :
t$z CAfcES AND AL
In a soup plate, mix the yolks of two hard-boiled
eggs boiled for thirty minutes, and afterwards
thrown into cold water into a smooth paste with a
teaspoonful of made mustard, and a table-spoonful of
plain vinegar, added drop by drop. Keep on stirring,
and add a dessert-spoonful of tarragon vinegar, a few
drops of essence of anchovies, a teaspoonful (not
heaped] of salt, about the same quantity of sifted
sugar, and a good pinch of cayenne. [The tendency
of black pepper is to make a salad gritty, which is
an abomination.] Lastly, add, drop by drop, three
table -spoonfuls of oil. Pour this dressing (which
should be in a continual state of stir) into your salad
bowl. Add the pickings of a hen lobster cut into
dice, and atop of the lobster, lettuces which have
been shred with clean fingers, or with ivory forks ;
a little endive may be added, with a slice or two
of beetroot ; but no onion (or very little) in a
lobster salad. A few shreds of anchovy may be
placed atop ; with beetroot cut into shapes, the
whites of the eggs, and the coral of the lobster, for the
sake of effect ; but seek not, O student, to achieve
prettiness of effect to the detriment of practical
utility. I need hardly add that the sooner after its
manufacture a salad is eaten, the better will be its
flavour. And the solid ingredients should only be
mixed with the dressing at the very last moment ;
otherwise a sodden, flabby effect will be produced,
which is neither pleasing to the eye, nor calculated
to promote good digestion.
I am perfectly aware that the above is not a
strict Mayonnaise dressing, in which the egg
yolks should be raw, instead of cooked. But,
like the Scotsman, I have " tried baith," and pre-
fer my own way, which more resembles the
sauce Tartare^ than the Mayonnaise of our lively
SALADS 153
neighbours, who, by the way, merely wipe, in-
stead of wash, their lettuces and endive, to
preserve, as they say, the flavour. Of course
this is a matter of taste, but the writer must own
to a preference for the baptised article, which must,
however, on no account be left to soak, but be
simply freed from dirt, grit, and other things.
What is the origin of the word "MAYON-
NAISE " ? No two Frenchmen will give you the
same answer. " Of or belonging to Mayonne "
would seem to be the meaning of the word ; but
then there is no such place as Mayonne in the
whole of France. Grimod de la Reyniere main-
tained that the proper word was " BAYONNAISE,"
meaning a native of Bayonne, on the Spanish
frontier. Afterwards Grimod, who was a
resourceful man, got hold of another idea, and
said that the word was probably "MAHONNAISE,"
and so named in honour of Marshal Richelieu's
capture of the stronghold of Mahon^ in the
island of Minorca. But what tad this victory
got to do with a salad dressing ? What was the
connection of raw eggs and tarragon vinegar with
Marshal Richelieu? Then up came another
cook, in the person of Careme, who established
it as an absolute certainty that the genuine word
was " MAGNONNAISE," from the word " manier"
to manipulate. But as nobody would stand this
definition for long, a fresh search had to be
made ; and this time an old Provencal verb was
dug up mahonner^ or more correctly maghonner^
to worry or fatigue. And this is now said
by purists to be the source of Mayonnaise
"something worried," or fatigued. And the
iS4 CAKES AND ALE
reason for the gender of the noun is said to be
that in ancient times lovely woman was accus-
tomed to manipulate the salad with her own fair
fingers. In the time of Rousseau, the phrase
retourner la salade avec les doigts was used to
describe a woman as being still young and
beautiful j just as in Yorkshire at the present
time, " she canna mak' a bit o' bread " is used to
describe a woman who is of no possible use in the
house. So a Mayonnaise or a Mahonnaise I care
not which be the correct spelling was a young
lady who " fatigued " the salad. More shame to
the gallants of the day, who allowed " fatigue "
to be associated with youth and beauty !
But can it possibly matter what the word
means, when the mixture is smooth and savoury j
and so deftly blended that no one flavour
predominates ? And herein lies the secret or
every mixture used for the refreshment of the
inner man and woman ; whether it be a soup,
a curry, a trifle, a punch, or a cup no one
ingredient should be of more weight or im-
portance than another. And that was the secret
of the " delicious gravy " furnished by the cele-
brated stew at the "Jolly Farmers," in The
Old Curiosity Shop of Charles Dickens.
MAYONNAISE (we will drop for the nonce,
the other spelling) is made thus :
In the proportions of two egg yolks to half a
pint of Lucca oil, and a small wine-glassful of tarragon
vinegar. Work the yolks smooth in a basin, with a
seasoning of pepper (cayenne for choice), salt, and
according to the writer's views sifted sugar.
Then a few drops of oil, and fewer of vinegar ;
SALADS 155
stirring the mixture all the time, from right to left,
with a wooden, or ivory, spoon. In good truth 'tis
a " fatiguing " task ; and as in very hot weather the
sauce is liable to decompose, or " curdle," before the
finishing touches are put to it, it may be made over
ice.
" Stir, sisters, stir,
Stir with care ! "
is the motto for the Mayonnaise-mixer. And
in many cases her only reward consists in the
knowledge that through her art and patience
she has helped to make the sojourn of others
in this vale of tears less tearful and monotonous.
" Onion atoms " should " lurk within the
bowl," on nearly every occasion, and as for a
potato salad don't be afraid, I'm not going to
quote any more Sydney Smith, so don't get
loading your guns well, here is the proper way
to make it.
Potato Salad.
Cut nine or ten average-sized kidney potatoes
(cooked) into slices, half an inch thick, put them in
a salad bowl, and pour over them, after mixing, two
table-spoonfuls of vinegar, one table-spoonful of tarra-
gon vinegar, six table-spoonfuls of oil, one of minced
parsley, a dessert-spoonful of onions chopped very
fine, with cayenne and salt to taste. Shredded
anchovies may be added, although it is preferable
without ; and this salad should be made a couple of
hours or so before partaken of.
The German recipe for a potato salad is too
nasty to quote ; and their HERRING SALAD,
although said to be a valuable restorative of nerve
156 CAKES AND ALE
power, by no means presents an attractive ap-
pearance, when served at table. Far more to
the mind and palate of the average epicure is a
Tomato Salad.
This is the author's recipe :
Four large tomatoes and one Spanish onion, cut
into thin slices. Mix a spot of mustard, a little
white pepper and salt, with vinegar, in a table-spoon,
pour it over the love apples, etc., and then add two
table-spoonfuls of oil. Mix well, and then sprinkle
over the mixture a few drops of Lea and Perrins's
Worcester Sauce. For the fair sex, the last part of
the programme may be omitted, but on no account
leave out the breath of sunny Spain. And mark
this well. The man, or woman, who mixes tomatoes
with lettuces, or endives, in the bowl, is hereby
sentenced to translate the whole of this book into
Court English.
Celery Salad.
An excellent winter salad is made with beetroot
and celery, cut in thin slices, and served with or
without onions either with a mayonnaise sauce, or
with a plain cream sauce : to every table-spoonful of
cream add a teaspoonful of tarragon vinegar, a little
sugar, and a suspicion of cayenne. This salad looks
best served in alternate slices of beet and celery, on
a flat silver dish, around the sauce.
A Gentleman Salad Maker.
Although in the metropolis it is still custom-
ary, in middle-class households, to hire "outside
help" on the occasion of a dinner-party, we have
SALADS 157
not heard for some time of a salad-dresser who
makes house-to-house visitations in the exer-
cise of his profession. But, at the end of the
1 8th century, the Chevalier d'Allignac, who
had escaped from Paris to London in the evil
days of the Revolution, made a fortune in this
way. He was paid at the rate of ^5 a salad, and
naturally, soon started his own carriage, "in
order that he might pass quickly from house to
house, during the dining hours of the aristo-
cracy." High as the fee may appear to be, it is
impossible to measure the width of the gulf
which lies between the salad as made by a lover
of the art, and the kitchen-wench ; and a perfect
salad is, like a perfect curry, " far above rubies."
A Memorable Salad
was once served in my own mansion. The
chef, who understood these matters well, when
her hair was free from vine leaves, had been
celebrating her birthday or some other festival ;
and had mixed the dressing with Colza oil. Her
funeral was largely attended.
CHAPTER XIV
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS
"Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloy less sauce his appetite."
Roman salad Italian ditto Various other salads Sauce for
cold mutton Chutnine Raw chutnee Horse-radish sauce
Christopher North's sauce How to serve a mackerel
Sauce Torture Ditto for sucking pig Delights of making
Sambal A new language.
IT has, I hope, been made sufficiently clear that
neither water-cress nor radishes should figure in a
dressed salad ; from the which I would also exclude
such " small deer " as mustard and cress. There
is, however, no black mark against the narrow-
leaved CORN SALAD plant, or " lamb's lettuce " j
and its great advantage is that it can be grown
almost anywhere during the winter months, when
lettuces have to be " coddled," and thereby robbed
of most of their flavour.
Instead of yolk of egg, in a dressing, cheese may
be used, with good results, either cream cheese not
the poor stuff made on straws, but what are known as
"napkin," or "New Forest" cheeses or Cheddar.
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS 159
Squash it well up with oil and vinegar, and do not
use too much. A piece of cheese the size of an
average lump of sugar will be ample, and will lend
a most agreeable flavour to the mixture.
Roman Salad
Lucullus and Co. or rather their cooks
had much to learn in the preparation of the
" herbaceous meat " which delighted Sydney
Smith. The Romans cultivated endive ; this
was washed free from "matter in the wrong
place," chopped small absolutely fatal to the
taste anointed with oil and liquamen^ topped up
with chopped onions, and further ornamented
with honey and vinegar. But before finding
fault with the conquerors of the world for mixing
honey with a salad, it should be remembered that
they knew not " fine Demerara," nor " best lump,"
nor even the beet sugar which can be made at
home. Still I should not set a Roman salad
before my creditors, if I wanted them to have
" patience." An offer of the very smallest dividend
would be preferable.
Italian Salad.
The merry Italian has improved considerably
upon the herbaceous treat (I rather prefer " treat "
to "meat") of his ancestors ; though he is far
too fond of mixing flesh-meat of all sorts with his
dressed herbs, and his boiled vegetables. Two
cold potatoes and half a medium sized beet sliced,
mixed with boiled celery and Brussels sprouts,
form a common salad in the sunny South ; the
dressing being usually oil and vinegar, occasionally
160 CAKES AND ALE
oil settle, and sometimes a Tar tare sauce. Stoned
olives are usually placed atop of the mess, which
includes fragments of chicken, or veal and ham.
Russian Salad.
This is a difficult task to build up ; for a sort
of Cleopatra's Needle, or pyramid, of cooked
vegetables, herbs, pickles, etc., has to be erected
on a flat dish. Carrots, turnips, green peas,
asparagus, French beans, beetroot, capers, pickled
cucumbers, and horse-radish, form the solid
matter of which the pyramid is built.
Lay a stratum on the dish, and anoint the stratum
with Tartare sauce. Each layer must be similarly
anointed, and must be of less circumference than the
one underneath, till the top layer consists of one
caper. Garnish with bombs of caviare, sliced lemon,
crayfish, olives, and salted cucumber ; and then give
the salad to the policeman on fixed-point duty. At
least, if you take my advice.
Anchovy Salad.
This is usually eaten at the commencement
of dinner, as a hors d'ceuvre.
Some shreds ot anchovy should be arranged
"criss-cross" in a flat glass dish. Surround it with
small heaps of chopped truffles, yolk and white of
hard-boiled eggs, capers, and a stoned olive or two.
Mix all the ingredients together with a little Chili
vinegar, and twice the quantity of oil.
The mixture is said to be invaluable as an
appetiser ; but the modest oyster on the deep
shell if he has not been fattened at the bolt-hole
of the main sewer is to be preferred.
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS 161
Cooked vegetables, for salad purposes, are not,
nor will they ever be, popular in England, Nine
out of ten Britains will eat the " one sauce "
with asparagus, in preference to the oiled butter,
or plain salad dressing, of mustard, vinegar,
pepper, salt, and oil ; whilst 'tis almost hopeless
to attempt to dissuade madame the cook from
smothering her cauliflowers with liquefied paste,
before sending them to table. Many a wild weed
which foreign nations snatch greedily from the
soil, prior to dressing it, is passed by with scorn
by our islanders, including the dandelion, which
is a favourite of our lively neighbours, for salad
purposes, and is doubtless highly beneficial to the
human liver. So is the cauliflower ; and an
eminent medical authority once gave out that the
man who ate a parboiled cauliflower, as a salad,
every other day, need never send for a doctor.
Which sounds rather like fouling his own nest.
Fruit Salad.
This is simply a French compote of cherries,
green almonds, pears, limes, peaches, apricots in
syrup slightly flavoured with ginger ; and goes
excellent well with any cold brown game. Try it.
Orange Salad.
Peel your orange, and cut it into thin slices.
Arrange these in a glass dish, and sugar them well.
Then pour over them a glass of sherry, a glass of
brandy, and a glass of maraschino.
Orange Sauce,
Cold mutton, according to my notions, is
1 6 2 CAKES AND ALE
"absolutely beastly," to the palate. More happy
homes have been broken up by this simple dish
than by the entire army of Europe. And 'tis
a dish which should never be allowed to wander
outside the servants' hall. The superior domestics
who take their meals in the steward's room, would
certainly rise in a body, and protest against the
indignity of a cold leg, or shoulder. As for a
cold loin but the idea is too awful. Still,
brightened up by the following condiment, cold
mutton will go down smoothly, and even grate-
fully :
Rub off the thin yellow rind of two oranges on
four lumps of sugar. Put these into a bowl, and
pour in a wine-glass of port, a quarter pint of dis-
solved red -currant jelly, a teaspoonful of mixed
mustard don't be frightened, it's all right a finely-
minced shallot, a pinch of cayenne, and some more
thin orange rind. Mix well. When heated up,
strain and bottle off.
But amateur sauces should, on the whole, be
discouraged. The writer has tasted dozens of
imitations of Lea and Perrins's " inimitable," and
it is still inimitable, and unapproachable. It is the
same with chutnee. You can get anything in
that line you want at Stembridge's, close to
Leicester Square, to whom the writer is indebted
for some valuable hints. But here is a recipe
for a mixture of chutnee and pickle, which must
have been written a long time ago ; for the two
operations are transposed. For instance, the
onions should be dealt with first.
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS 163
Chutnlne.
Ten or twelve large apples, peeled and cored, put
in an earthenware jar, with a little vinegar (on no
account use water) in the oven. Let them remain
till in a pulp, then take out, and add half an ounce
of curry powder, one ounce of ground ginger, half a
pound of stoned raisins, chopped fine, half a pound
moist sugar, one teaspoonful cayenne pepper, one
table-spoonful salt. Take four large onions (this
should be done first], chop very fine, and put them in
a jar with a pint and a half of vinegar. Cork tightly
and let them remain a week. Then add the rest
of the ingredients, after mixing them well together.
Cork tightly, and the chutnine will be ready for
use in a month. It improves, however, by keeping
for a year or so.
Raw Chutnee
is another aid to the consumption of cold meat,
and I have also seen it used as an accom-
paniment to curry, but do not recommend the
mixture.
One large tomato, one smaller Spanish onion, one
green chili, and a squeeze of lemon juice. Pulp
the tomato ; don't try to extract the seeds, for life
is too short for that operation. Chop the onion and
the chili very fine, and mix the lot up with a pinch
of salt, and the same quantity of sifted sugar.
I know plenty of men who would break up
their homes (after serving the furniture in the
same way) and emigrate ; who would go on
strike, were roast beef to be served at the dinner-
table unaccompanied by horse-radish sauce. But
this is a relish for the national dish which is
frequently overlooked.
164 CAKES AND ALE
Horse-radish Sauce.
Grate a young root as fine as you can. It is
perhaps needless to add that the fresher the horse-
radish the better. No vegetables taste as well
as those grown in your own garden, and gathered,
or dug up, just before wanted. And the horse-
radish, like the Jerusalem artichoke, comes to
stay. When once he gets a footing in your
garden you will never dislodge him j nor will
you want to. Very well, then :
Having grated your horse, add a quarter of a pint
of cream English or Devonshire a dessert-spoonful
of sifted sugar, half that quantity of salt, and a table-
spoonful of vinegar. Mix all together, and, if for
hot meat, heat in the oven, taking care that the
mixture does not curdle. Many people use oil
instead of cream, and mix grated orange rind with
the sauce. The Germans do not use oil, but either
make the relish with cream, or hard-boiled yolk of
egg. Horse-radish sauce for hot meat may also be
heated by pouring it into a jar, and standing the
jar in boiling water "jugging it" in fact.
Celery
for boiled pheasant, or turkey, is made thus :
Two or three heads of celery, sliced thin, put
into a saucepan with equal quantities of sugar and
salt, a dust of white pepper, and two or three ounces
of butter. Stew your celery slowly till it becomes
pulpy, but not brown, add two or three ounces of flour,
and a good half- pint of milk, or cream. Let it
simmer twenty minutes, and then rub the mixture
through a sieve.
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS 165
The carp as an item or food is, according to
my ideas, a fraud. He tastes principally of the
mud in which he has been wallowing until
dragged out by the angler. The ancients loved
a dish of carp, and yet they knew not the only
sauce to make him at all palatable.
Sauce for Carp.
One ounce of butter, a quarter pint of good beef
gravy, one dessert-spoonful of flour, a quarter pint
of cream and two anchovies chopped very small.
Mix over the fire, stir well till boiling, then take off,
add a little Worcester sauce, and a squeeze of lemon,
just before serving.
Christopher North's Sauce.
This is a very old recipe. Put a dessert-spoonful
of sifted sugar, a salt-spoonful of salt, and rather
more than that quantity of cayenne, into a jar. Mix
thoroughly, and add, gradually, two table-spoonfuls of
Harvey's sauce, a dessert -spoonful of mushroom
ketchup, a table-spoonful of lemon juice, and a large
glass of port. Place the jar in a saucepan of boiling
water, and let it remain till the mixture is very hot,
but not boiling. If bottled directly after made, the
sauce will keep for a week, and may be used for
duck, goose, pork, or (Christopher adds) " any broil."
But there is but one broil sauce, the GUBBINS SAUCE,
already mentioned in this work.
Sauce for Hare.
What a piece of work is a hare ! And what
a piece of work it is to cook him in a laudable
fashion !
Crumble some bread a handful or so soak it
1 66 CAKES AND ALE
in port wine, heat over the fire with a small lump
of butter, a table-spoonful of red-currant jelly, a
little salt, and a table-spoonful of Chili vinegar.
Serve as hot as possible.
Mackerel is a fish but seldom seen at the tables
of the great. And yet 'tis tasty eating, if his
Joseph's coat be bright and shining when you
purchase him. When stale he is dangerous to
life itself. And he prefers to gratify the human
palate when accompanied by
Gooseberry Sauce^
which is made by simply boiling a few green goose-
berries, rubbing them through a sieve, and adding a
little butter and a suspicion of ginger. Then heat
up. " A wine-glassful of sorrel or spinach-juice,"
observes one authority, "is a decided improvement."
H'm. I've tried both, and prefer the gooseberries
unadorned with spinach liquor.
Now for a sauce which is deservedly popular
all over the world, and which is equally at home
as a salad dressing, as a covering for a steak off a
fresh-run salmon, or a portion of fried eel; the
luscious, the invigorating
Sauce Tartare,
so called because no tallow -eating Tartar was
ever known to taste thereof. I have already
given a pretty good recipe for its manufacture,
in previous salad-dressing instructions, where the
yolks of hard-boiled eggs are used. But chopped
chervil, shallots, and (occasionally) gherkins, are
added to the Tartare arrangement ; and frequently
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS 167
the surface is adorned with capers, stoned olives,
and shredded anchovies.
In the chapters devoted to dinners, no mention
has been made of the sucking pig, beloved of
Charles Lamb. 1 This hardened offender should
be devoured with
Currant Sauce:
Boil an ounce of currants, after washing them
and picking out the tacks, dead flies, etc., in half a
pint of water, for a few minutes, and pour over
them a cupful of finely grated crumbs. Let them
soak well, then beat up with a fork, and stir in about
a gill of oiled butter. Add two table-spoonfuls of the
brown gravy made for the pig, a glass of port, and a
pinch of salt. Stir the sauce well over the fire. It
is also occasionally served with roast venison ; but
not in the mansions of my friends.
What is sauce for Madame Goose is said to
1 " Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibiih I will
maintain it to be the most delicate -princeps obsoniorum. I speak
not of your grown porkers things between pig and pork those
hobbydehoys ; but a young and tender suckling, under a moon
old, guiltless as yet of the sty, with no original speck of the amor
immunditiae, the hereditary failing of the first parents, yet manifest
his voice as yet not broken, but something between a childish
treble and a grumble the mild forerunner or praeludium of a
grunt. He must be roasted. I am not ignorant that our
ancestors ate them seethed, or boiled but what a sacrifice of the
exterior tegument !
" His sauce should be considered. Decidedly a few bread-
crumbs, done up with his liver and brains, and a dash of mild
sage. But banish, dear Mrs. Cook, I beseech you, the whole
onion tribe. Barbecue your whole hogs to your palate, steep
them in shalots, stuff them out with plantations of the rank and
guilty garlic you cannot poison them, or make them stronger
than they are j but consider, he is a weakling a flower."
Lamb on Pig.
1 68 CAKES AND ALE
be sauce for Old Man Gander. Never mind
about that, however. The parents of young
Master Goose, with whom alone I am going to
deal, have, like the flowers which bloom in the
spring, absolutely nothing to do with the case.
This is the best
Sauce for the Goose
known to civilisation :
Put two ounces of green sage leaves into a jar with
an ounce of the thin yellow rind of a lemon, a
minced shallot, a teaspoonful of salt, half a ditto of
cayenne, and a pint of claret. Let this soak for a
fortnight, then pour off the liquid into a tureen ;
or boil with some good gravy. This sauce will keep
for a week or two, bottled and well corked up.
And now, having given directions for the
manufacture of sundry "cloyless sauces" with
only one of the number having any connection
with Ala^ and that one a sauce of world -wide
reputation, I will conclude this chapter with a
little fancy work. It is not probable that many
who do me the honour to skim through these
humble, faultily-written, but heartfelt gastronomic
hints are personally acquainted with the cloyless
Sambal^
who is a lady of dusky origin. But let us quit
metaphor, and direct the gardener to
Cut the finest and straightest cucumber in his
crystal palace. Cut both ends off, and divide the
remainder into two-inch lengths. Peel these, and
let them repose in salt to draw out the water, which
SALADS AND CONDIMENTS 169
is the indigestible part of the cucumber. Then
take each length, in succession, and with a very
sharp knife a penknife is best for the purpose
pare it from surface to centre, until it has become
one long, curly shred. Curl it up tight, so that it
may resemble in form the spring of a Waterbury
watch. Cut the length through from end to end,
until you have made numerous long thin shreds.
Treat each length in the same way, and place in a
glass dish. Add three green chilies, chopped fine,
a few chopped spring onions, and some tiny shreds
of the Blue Fish of Java. Having performed a fish-
less pilgrimage in search of this curiosity, you will
naturally fall back upon the common or Italian
anchovy, which, after extracting the brine and bones,
and cleansing, chop fine. Pour a little vinegar over
the mixture.
" Sambal " will be found a delicious accompani-
ment to curry when served on a salad plate
or to almost any description of cold meat and
cheese. It is only fair to add, however, that the
task of making the relish is arduous and exasper-
ating to a degree ; and that the woman who
makes it no male Christian in the world is
possessed of a tithe of the necessary patience,
now that Job and Robert Bruce are no more
should have the apartment to herself. For the
labour is calculated to teach an entirely new
language to the manufacturer.
CHAPTER XV
SUPPER
" We are such stuff
As dreams are made of."
Cleopatra's supper Oysters Danger in the Aden bivalve
Oyster stew Ball suppers Pretty dishes The Taj Mahal
Aspic Bloater paste and whipped cream Ladies' recipes
Cookery colleges Tripe Smothered in onions North
Riding fashion An hotel supper Lord Tomnoddy at the
'* Magpie and Stump."
THAT cruel and catlike courtesan, Cleopatra, is
alleged to have given the most expensive supper
on record, and to have disposed of the bonne louche
herself, in the shape of a pearl, valued at the
equivalent of ^250,000, dissolved in vinegar of
extra strength. Such a sum is rather more than
is paid for a supper at the Savoy, or the Cecil,
or the Metropole, in these more practical times,
when pearls are to be had cheaper ; and there is
probably about as much truth in this pearl story
as in a great many others of the same period. I
have heard of a fair declassee leader of fashion at
Monte Carlo, who commanded that her major
domo should be put to death for not having
SUPPER i 71
telegraphed to Paris for peaches, for a special
dinner ; but the woman who could melt a pearl
in vinegar, and then drink halte la ! Perhaps
the pearl was displayed in the deep shell of the
oyster of which the " noble curtesan " partook ?
We know how Mark Antony's countrymen valued
the succulent bivalve ; and probably an oyster
feast at Wady Haifa or Dongola was a common
function long before London knew a <c Scott's,"
a " Pimm's," or a " Sweeting's."
Thanks partly to the " typhoid scare," but
principally to the prohibitive price, the "native"
industry of Britain has been, at the latter end
of the nineteenth century, by no means active,
although in the illustrated annuals Uncle John
still brings with him a barrel of the luscious
bivalves, in addition to assorted toys for the
children, when he arrives in the midst of a
snow-storm at the old hall on Christmas Eve.
But Uncle John, that good fairy of our youth,
when Charles Dickens invented the "festive
season," and the very atmosphere reeked of
goose-stuffing, resides, for the most part, " in
Sheffield," in these practical days, when sentiment
and goodwill to relatives are rapidly giving place
to matters of fact, motor cars, and mammoth
rates.
The Asiatic oyster is not altogether commend-
able, his chief merit consisting in his size. Once
whilst paying a flying visit to the city of Kurachi,
I ordered a dozen oysters at the principal hotel.
Then I went out to inspect the lions. On my
return I could hardly push my way into the
coffee-room. It was full of oyster ! There was
1 72 CAKES AND ALE
no room for anything else. In fact one Kurachi
oyster is a meal for four full-grown men.
More tragic still was my experience of the
bivalves procurable at Aden which cinder-heap
I have always considered to be a foretaste of even
hotter things below. Instead of living on coal-
dust (as might naturally be expected) the Aden
oyster appears to do himself particularly well on
some preparation of copper. The only time I
tasted him, the after consequences very nearly
prevented my ever tasting anything else, on
this sphere. And it was only the comfort
administered by the steward of my cabin which
got me round.
" Ah ! " said that functionary, as he looked in
to see whether I would take hot pickled pork
or roast goose for dinner. " The last time we
touched at Aden, there was two gents 'ad 'ysters.
One of 'em died the same night, and the other
nex' morninV
I laughed so much that the poison left my
system.
Yet still we eat oysters the Sans Bacilles
brand, for choice. And if we can only persuade
the young gentleman who opens the bivalves to
refrain from washing the grit off each in the tub
of dirty water behind the bar, so much the better.
And above all, the bivalves should be opened on
the deep shell, so as to conserve some of the juice ;
for it is advisable to get as much of the bivalve
as we can for the money. Every time I crunch
the bones of a lark I feel that I am devouring an
oratorio, in the way of song ; and whilst the
bivalve is sliding down the "red lane" it may
SUPPER 173
be as well to reflect that " there slipb away
fourpence " ; or, as the Scotsman had it, " bang
went saxpence ! "
In connection with Mr. Bob Sawyer's supper
party in Pickwick^ it may be recollected that u the
man to whom the order for the oysters had been
sent had not been told to open them ; it is a very
difficult thing to open an oyster with a limp knife
or a two-pronged fork : and very little was done
in this way."
And in one's own house, unless there be an
adept at oyster-opening present, the simplest way
to treat the bivalve is the following. It should
be remembered that a badly-opened oyster will
resemble in flavour a slug on a gravel walk.
So roast him, good friends, in his own fortress.
Oysters In their own Juice.
With the tongs place half-a-dozen oysters, mouths
outwards, between the red-hot coals of the parlour
or dining-room fire the deep shell must be at the
bottom and the oysters will be cooked in a few
minutes, or when the shells gape wide. Pull them
out with the tongs, and insert a fresh batch. No
pepper, vinegar, or lemon juice is necessary as an
adjunct ; and the oyster never tastes better.
At most eating-houses,
Scalloped Oysters
taste of nothing but scorched bread-crumbs ; and
the reason is obvious, for there is but little else
in the scallop shell. Natives only should be used.
Open and beard two dozen, and cut each bivalve
174 CAKES AND ALE
in half. Melt two ounces of butter in a stewpan,
and mix into it the same allowance of flour, the
strained oyster liquor, a teacupful of cream, half a
teaspoonful of essence of anchovies, and a pinch of
cayenne death to the caitiff who adds nutmeg
and stir the sauce well over the fire. Take it off,
and add the well-beaten yolks of two eggs, a table-
spoonful of finely chopped parsley, and a teaspoonful
of lemon juice. Put in the oysters, and stir the
whole over a gentle fire for five minutes. Put the
mixture in the shells, grate bread-crumbs over, place a
small piece of butter atop, and bake in a Dutch oven
before a clear fire until the crumbs are lightly browned,
which should be in about a quarter of an hour.
Oyster Stew
is thoroughly understood in New York City.
On this side, the dish does not meet with any
particular favour, although no supper-table is
properly furnished without it.
Open two dozen oysters, and take the beards off.
Put the oysters into a basin and squeeze over them
the juice of half a lemon. Put the beards and the
strained liquor into a saucepan with half a blade of
mace, half a dozen peppercorns ground, a little grated
lemon rind, and a pinch of cayenne. Simmer gently
for a quarter of an hour, strain the liquid, thicken it
with a little butter and flour, add a quarter of a pint
(or a teacupful) of cream, and stir over the fire till
quite smooth. Then put in the oysters, and let
them warm through they must not boil. Serve in
a soup tureen, and little cubes of bread fried in bacon
grease may be served with the stew, as with pea-soup.
Be very careful to whose care you entrust
your barrel, or bag, of oysters, after you have got
SUPPER 175
them home. A consignment or the writer's
were, on one memorable and bitter cold Christ-
mas Eve, consigned to the back dairy, by Matilda
Anne. Result frostbite, gapes, dissolution,
disappointment, disagreeable language.
Ball Suppers.
More hard cash is wasted on these than even
on ball dresses, which is saying a great deal. The
alien caterer, or charcutier^ is chiefly to blame
for this ; for he it is who has taught the British
matron to wrap up wholesome food in coats of
grease, inlaid with foreign substances, to destroy
its flavour, and to bestow upon it an outward
semblance other than its own. There was
handed unto me, only the other evening, what I
at first imagined to be a small section of the
celebrated Taj Mahal at Agra, the magnificent
mausoleum of the Emperor Shah Jehan. Refer-
ence to the bill-of-fare established the fact that I
was merely sampling a galantine of turkey,
smothered in some white glazy grease, inlaid
with chopped carrot, green peas, truffles, and
other things. And the marble column (also
inlaid) which might have belonged to King
Solomon's Temple, at the top of the table, turned
out to be a Tay salmon, decorated a la mode de
charcutier^ and tasting principally of garlic. A
shriek from a fair neighbour caused me to turn
my head in her direction ; and it took some
little time to discover, and to convince her, that
the item on her plate was not a mouse, too
frightened to move, but some preparation of the
liver of a goose, in " aspic."
176 CAKES AND ALE
This said ASPIC which has no connection
with the asp which the fair Cleopatra kept on
the premises, although a great French lexico-
grapher says that aspic is so called because it is
as cold as a snake is invaluable in the numerous
" schools of cookery " in the which British
females are educated according to the teaching
of the bad fairy Ala. The cold chicken and
ham which delighted our ancestors at the supper-
table what has become of them ? Yonder, my
dear sir, is the fowl, in neat portions, minced,
and made to represent fragments of the almond
rock which delighted us whilst in the nursery.
The ham has become a ridiculous mousse^ placed
in little accordion-pleated receptacles of snow-
white paper ; and those are not poached eggs
atop, either, but dabs of whipped cream with a
preserved apricot in the centre.
It was only the other day that I read in a
journal written by ladies for ladies, of a dainty
dish for luncheon or supper : croutons smeared
with bloater paste and surmounted with whipped
cream ; and in the same paper was a recipe for
stuffing a fresh herring with mushrooms, parsley,
yolk of egg, onion, and its own soft roe. I am
of opinion that it was a bad day for the male
Briton when the gudewife, with her gude-
daughter, and her gude cook, abandoned the
gude roast and boiled, in favour of the works of
the all-powerful Ala.
And now let us proceed to discuss the most
homely supper of all, and when I mention the
magic word
SUPPER 177
Tripe
there be few of my readers who will not at once
allow that it is not only the most homely of
food, but forms an ideal supper. This doctrine
had not got in its work, however, in the 'sixties,
at about which period the man who avowed
himself an habitual tripe-eater must have been
possessed of a considerable amount of nerve.
Some of the supper-houses served it such as
the Albion, the Coal Hole, and more particu-
larly, " Noalces's," the familiar name for the old
Opera Tavern which used to face the Royal
Italian Opera House, in Bow Street, Covent
Garden. But the more genteel food-emporiums
fought shy of tripe until within three decades of the
close of the nineteenth century. Then it began
to figure on the supper bills, in out-of-the-way
corners ; until supper-eaters in general discovered
that this was not only an exceedingly cheap, but
a very nourishing article of food, which did not
require any special divine aid to digest. Then
the price of tripe went up 75 per cent on the
programmes. Then the most popular burlesque
artiste of any age put the stamp of approval upon
the new supper-dish, and tripe-dressing became
as lucrative a profession as gold-crushing.
There is a legend afloat of an eminent actor
poor " Ned " Sothern, I fancy, as u Johnny "
Toole would never have done such a thing
who bade some of his friends and acquaintance
to supper, and regaled them on sundry rolls
of house flannel, smothered with the orthodox
onion sauce. But that is another story.
178 CAKES AND ALE
Practical jokes should find no place in this
volume, which is written to benefit, and not
alarm, posterity. Therefore let us discuss the
problem
How to Cook Tripe.
Ask for "double-tripe," and see that the dresser
gives it you nice and white. Wash it, cut into
portions, and place in equal parts of milk and water,
boiling fast. Remove the saucepan from the hottest
part of the fire, and let the tripe keep just on the
boil for an hour and a half. Serve with whole
onions and onion sauce in this work you will not
be told how to manufacture onion sauce and
baked potatoes should always accompany this dish to
table.
Some people like their tripe cut into strips
rolled up and tied with cotton, before being
placed in the saucepan ; but there is really no
necessity to take this further trouble. And if
the cook should forget to remove the cotton before
serving, you might get your tongues tied in
knots. In the North Riding of Yorkshire,
some of the farmers' wives egg-and-bread-
crumb fillets of tripe, and fry them in the drip
of thick rashers of ham which have been fried
previously. The ham is served in the centre
of the dish, with the fillets around the pig-pieces.
This is said to be an excellent dish, but I
prefer my tripe smothered in onions, like -the
timid " bunny."
Edmund Yates, in his "Reminiscences," de-
scribes "nice, cosy, little suppers," of which in his
early youth he used to partake, at the house of his
maternal grandfather, in Kentish Town. " He
SUPPER 179
dined at two o'clock," observed the late pro-
prietor of the World, "and had the most de-
lightful suppers at nine ; suppers of sprats, or
kidneys, or tripe and onions ; with foaming
porter and hot grog afterwards."
I cannot share the enthusiasm possessed by
some people for SPRATS, as an article of diet.
When very "full-blown," the little fish make
an excellent fertiliser for Marshal Niel roses ;
but as " winter whitebait," or sardines they are
hardly up to " Derby form."
Sprats are not much encouraged at the
fashionable hotels ; and when tripe is brought
to table, which is but rarely, that food is nearly
always filleted, sprinkled with chopped parsley,
and served with tomato sauce.
This is the sort of supper which is provided in
the " gilt-edged " caravanserais of the metropolis,
the following being a verbatim copy of a bill of
fare at the Hotel Cecil :
SOUPER, 55.
Consomme Riche en tasses.
Laitances Frites, Villeroy.
C6te de Mouton aux Haricots Verts.
Chaudfroid de Mauviettes. Strasbourg evisie.
Salade.
Biscuit Cecil.
A lady-like repast this ; and upon the whole,
not dear. But roast loin of mutton hardly
sounds tasty enough for a meal partaken of
somewhere about the stroke of midnight. Still,
such a supper is by no means calculated to
"murder sleep." Upon the other hand it is a
180 CAKES AND ALE
little difficult to credit the fact that the whole of
the party invited by " My Lord Tomnoddy " to
refresh themselves at the "Magpie and Stump,"
including the noble host himself, should have
slumbered peacefully, with a noisy crowd in the
street, after a supper which consisted of
" Cold fowl and cigars,
Pickled onions in jars,
Welsh rabbits and kidneys,
Rare work for the jaws.'*
CHAPTER XVI
SUPPER (continued]
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony ;
Meeting were bare without it."
Old supper-houses The Early Closing Act Evans's Cremorne
Gardens The " Albion " Parlour cookery Kidneys fried
in the fire-shovel The true way to grill a bone " Cannie
Carle " My lady's bovver Kidney dumplings A Middle-
ham supper Steaks cut from a colt by brother to " Straffbrd "
out of sister to " Bird on the Wing."
THE Early Closing Act of 1872 had a disastrous
effect upon the old London supper - houses.
What Mr. John Hollingshead never tired of
calling the " slap-me-and-put-me-to-bed law "
rang the knell of many a licensed tavern, well-
conducted, where plain, well -cooked food and
sound liquor were to be obtained by men who
would have astonished their respective couches
had they sought them before the small hours.
Evans's.
The " Cave of Harmony " or Thackeray was
a different place to the " Evans's " of my youth-
:? 2 CAKES AND ALE
ful days. Like the younger Newcome, I was
taken there in the first instance, by the author
of my being. But Captain Costigan was con-
spicuous by his absence; and "Sam Hall" was
non est. I noted well the abnormal size of the
broiled kidneys, and in my ignorance of anatomy,
imagined that Evans's sheep must be subjected
to somewhat the same process the "ordeal by
fire" as the Strasbourg geese. And the
potatoes zounds, sirs ! What potatoes ! " Shall I
turn it out, sir ? " inquired the attentive waiter ;
and, as he seized the tuber, enveloped in the snow-
white napkin, broke it in two, and ejected a
floury pyramid upon my plate, I would, had I
known of such a decoration in those days, have
gladly recommended that attendant for the Dis-
tinguished Service order. In the course of many
visits I never saw any supper commodity served
here besides chops, steaks, kidneys, welsh-rarebits,
poached eggs, and (I think) sausages ; and the
earliest impression made upon a youthful memory
was the air of extreme confidence which pervaded
the place. We certainly " remembered " the
waiter ; but not even a potato was paid for until
we encountered the head functionary at the exit
door ; and his peculiar ideas of arithmetic would
have given Bishop Colenso a succession of fits.
Who u Evans " was, we neither knew nor
cared, "Paddy" Green, with his chronic
smile, was enough for us ; as he proffered his
ever-ready snufF-box, inquired after our relatives
" Paddy," like " Spanky " at Eton, knew every-
body and implored silence whilst the quintette
Integer Vitcz was being sung by the choir. We
SUPPER 183
used to venerate that quintette far more than any
music we ever heard in church, and I am certain
" Paddy " Green would have backed his little
pack of choristers who, according to the general
belief, passed the hours of daylight in waking the
echoes of St. Paul's Cathedral, or Westminster
Abbey, and therefore, at Evans's, always looked
a bit stale and sleepy against any choir in the
world. As for Harry Sidney, the fat, jolly-looking
gentleman who was wont to string together the
topics of the day and reproduce them, fresh as
rolls, set to music, we could never hear enough
of him ; and I wish I had now some of the half-
crowns which in the past were bestowed upon
Herr Von Joel, the indifferent slffleur^ who was
" permanently retained upon the premises," and
who was always going to take a benefit the
following week.
" Kidneys and 'armony " that was the old
programme in the " Cave." And then the march
of time killed poor old Paddy, and another
management reigned. Gradually the "lady
element " was introduced, and a portion of the hall
was set apart for the mixed assembly. And then
came trouble, and, finally, disestablishment. And
for some time before the closing of the Cave as
a place of entertainment, it was customary to
remove the fine old pictures (what became of
them, I wonder), from the walls, at "'Varsity
Boat Race " time. For the undergraduate of those
days was nothing if not rowdy. Youth will have
its fling ; and at Evans's the fling took the form
of tumblers. Well do I recollect a fight in " the
old style " in the very part of the " Cave " where
184 CAKES AND ALE
eminent barristers, actors, and other wits of a
past age, used to congregate. The premier boxer
of Cambridge University had been exercising his
undoubted talents as a breaker of glass, during
the evening, and at length the overwrought
manager obliged him with an opponent worthy of
his fists in the person of a waiter who could also
put up his fists. Several rounds were fought,
strictly according to the rules of the Prize Ring,
and in the result, whilst the waiter had sustained
considerable damage to his ribs, the " Cambridge
gent " had two very fine black eyes. Well do I
remember that "mill," also the waiter, who
afterwards became an habitual follower of the
turf.
If Cremorne introduced the fashion of " long
drinks," sodas, and et ceteras, the suppers served
in the old gardens had not much to recommend
them. A slice or two of cold beef, or a leg
of a chicken, with some particularly salt ham,
formed the average fare ; but those who possessed
their souls with patience occasionally saw some-
thing hot, in the way of food chiefly cutlets.
The great virtue of the cutlet is that it can be
reheated ; and one dish not infrequently did
duty for more than one party. The rejected
portion, in fact, would " reappear " as often as a
retiring actor. " I know them salmon cutlets,"
the waiter in Pink Dominoes used to observe, "as
well as I know my own mother ! " In fact,
Cremorne, like the " night houses " of old, was
not an ideal place to sup at.
But, per contra, the "Albion" was. Until
the enforcement of the "slap-me-and-put-me-to-
SUPPER 185
bed " policy there was no more justly celebrated
house of entertainment than the one which
almost faced the stage door of Drury Lane
theatre, in Great Russell Street. One of the
brothers Cooper another kept the Rainbow in
Fleet Street retired on a fortune made here,
simply by pursuing the policy of giving his
customers the best of everything. And a rare,
Bohemian stamp of customers he had, too a
nice, large-hearted, open-handed lot of actors,
successful and otherwise, dramatic critics ditto,
and ditto journalists, also variegated in degree ;
with the usual, necessary, leavening of the
" City " element. The custom of the fair sex
was not encouraged at the old tavern ; though
in a room on the first floor they were per-
mitted to sup, if in " the profession " and accom-
panied by males, whose manners and customs
could be vouched for. In winter time, assorted
grills, of fish, flesh, and fowl, were served as
supper dishes ; whilst tripe was the staple food.
Welsh rarebits, too, were in immense demand.
And I think it was here that I devoured, with
no fear of the future before my plate, a
Buck Rarebit.
During the silent watches of the rest of the
morning, bile and dyspepsia fought heroically for
my soul ; and yet the little animal is easy enough
to prepare, being nothing grander than a Welsh
rarebit, with a poached egg atop. But the little
tins (silver, like the forks and spoons, until the
greed and forgetfulness of mankind necessitated
the substitution of electro- plate) which the Hebes
186 CAKES AND ALE
at the " Old Cheshire Cheese " fill with fragments
of the hostelry's godfather subsequently to be
stewed in good old ale are less harmful to the
interior of the human diaphragm,
A favourite Albion supper -dish during the
summer months was
Lamb's Head and Mince.
I have preserved the recipe, a gift from one
of the waiters but whether Ponsford, Taylor,
or "Shakespeare" (so-called because he bore not
the faintest resemblance to the immortal bard) I
forget and here it is :
The head should be scalded, scraped, and well
washed. Don't have it singed, in the Scottish
fashion, as lamb's wool is not nice to eat. Then
put it, with the liver (the sweetbread was chopped up
with the brain, I fancy), into a stewpan, with a
Spanish onion stuck with cloves, a bunch of parsley,
a little thyme, a carrot, a turnip, a bay leaf, some
crushed peppercorns, a table-spoonful of salt, and
half a gallon of cold water. Let it boil up, skim,
and then simmer for an hour. Divide the head,
take out the tongue and brain, and dry the rest of
the head in a cloth. Mince the liver and tongue,
season with salt and pepper, and simmer in the
original gravy (thickened) for half-an-hour. Brush
the two head-halves with yolk of egg, grate bread
crumbs over, and bake in oven. The brain and
sweetbread to be chopped and made into cakes, fried,
and then placed in the dish around the head-halves.
Ah me ! The old tavern, after falling into
bad ways, entertaining " extra - ladies " and
ruined gamesters, has been closed for years.
SUPPER 187
The ground floor was a potato warehouse the
last time I passed the place. And it should be
mentioned that the actors, journalists, etc., who,
in the 'seventies, possessed smaller means, or more
modest ambitions, were in the habit of supping
on supping days at a cheaper haunt in the
Strand, off (alleged) roast goose. But, according
to one Joseph Eldred, a comedian of some note
and shirt-cuff, the meat which was apportioned
to us here was, in reality, always bullock's heart,
sliced, and with a liberal allowance of sage and
onions. " It's the seasoning as does it," observed
Mr. Samuel Weller.
Then there was another Bohemian house of
call, and supper place, in those nights the
" Occidental," once known as the " Coal Hole,"
where, around a large, beautifully polished ma-
hogany table, many of the wits of the town
" Harry " Leigh and " Tom " Purnell were two
of the inveterates sat, and devoured Welsh
rarebits, and other things. The house, too,
could accommodate not a few lodgers ; and one
of its great charms was that nobody cared a
button what time you retired to your couch, or
what time you ordered breakfast. In these
matters, the Occidental resembled the "Lim-
mer's" of the "Billy Duff" era, and the
" Lane's " of my own dear subaltern days.
Parlour Cookery.
It was after the last-named days that, whilst
on tour with various dramatic combinations
more from necessity than art, as far as I was
concerned that the first principles of parlour
o
i88 CAKES AND ALE
cookery became impregnated in mine under-
standing. We were not all "stars," although
we did our best. Salaries were (according to
the advertisements) "low but sure"; and (ac-
cording to experiences) by no means as sure as
death, or taxes. The "spectre" did not invari-
ably assume his " martial stalk," of a Saturday ;
and cheap provincial lodgings do not hold out
any extra inducement in the way of cookery.
So, whilst we endured the efforts of the good
landlady at the early dinner, some of us deter-
mined to dish up our own suppers. For the true
artist never really feels (or never used to feel, at
all events) like "picking a bit" until merely
commercial folks have gone to bed.
Many a time and oft, with the aid of a cigar
box (empty, of course), a couple of books, and
an arrangement of plates, have I prepared a
savoury supper of mushrooms, toasted cheese,
or a kebob of larks, or other small fowl, in front
of the fire. More than once have I received
notice to quit the next morning for grilling
kidneys on the perforated portion of a handsome
and costly steel fire-shovel. And by the time I had
become sufficiently advanced in culinary science
to stew tripe and onions, in an enamel-lined
saucepan, the property of the " responsible gent,"
we began to give ourselves airs. Landladies'
ideas on the subject of supper for " theatricals,"
it may be mentioned, seldom soared above yeast
dumplings. And few of us liked the name,
even, of yeast dumplings.
But perhaps the champion effort of all was
when I was sojourning in the good city of
SUPPER 189
Carlisle known to its inhabitants by the pet
name of u Cannie Carle." A good lady was, for
her sins, providing us with board and lodging, in
return for (promised) cash. My then companion
was a merry youth who afterwards achieved fame
by writing the very funniest and one of the most
successful of three-act farces that was ever placed
upon the stage. Now there is not much the
matter with a good joint of ribs of beef, roasted to
a turn. But when that beef is placed on the table
hot for the Sunday dinner, and cold at every
succeeding meal until finished up, one's appetite
for the flesh of the ox begins to slacken. So we
determined on the Wednesday night to " strike "
for a tripe supper.
" Indeed," protested the good landlady, " ye'll
get nae tripe in this hoose, cannie men. Hae ye
no' got guid beef, the noo ? "
Late that night we had grilled bones for
supper ; not the ordinary
Grilled Bones
which you get in an eating house, but a vastly
superior article. We, or rather my messmate, cut
a rib from ofF the aforementioned beef, scored the
flesh across, and placed the bone in the centre of a
beautifully clear fire which had been specially
prepared. It was placed there by means of the
tongs a weapon of inestimable value in Parlour
Cookery and withdrawn by the same medium.
Some of the black wanted scraping off the surface
of the meat, but the grill was a perfect dream.
The GUBBINS SAUCE, already mentioned in this
volume, had not at that time been invented ; but
1 9 o CAKES AND ALE
as I was never without a bottle of TAPP SAUCE
invaluable for Parlour Cookery ; you can get it at
Stembridge's we had plenty of relish. Then
we severed another rib from the carcase, and
served it in the same manner. For it was winter
time and we had wearied of frigid ox.
Next morning the landlady's face was a study. I
rather think that after some conversation, we propi-
tiated her with an order for two for the dress circle j
but it is certain that we had tripe that evening.
An ideal supper in miladies boudoir is associated,
in the writer's mind, with rose-coloured draperies,
dainty china, a cosy fire, a liberal display of
lingerie^ a strong perfume of heliotrope and orris
root and miladi herself. When next she invites
her friends, she will kindly order the following
repast to be spread :
Clear soup, in cups.
Fillets of soles Parisienne.
Chaudfroid of Quails.
Barded sweetbreads.
Perigord pat6.
By way of contrast, let me quote a typical
supper-dish which the " poor player " used to
order, when he could afford it.
Kidney Dumpling.
Cut a large Spanish onion in half. Take out the
heart, and substitute a sheep's kidney, cut into four.
Season with salt and pepper, join the two halves,
and enclose in a paste. Bake on a buttered tin, in
a moderate oven, for about an hour.
N.B. Be sure the cook bakes \ti\s dumpling, as it
is not nice boiled.
SUPPER 191
An artistic friend who at one time of his life
resided near the great horse -training centre of
Middleham, in Yorkshire, gave a steak supper at
the principal inn, to some of the stable attendants.
The fare was highly approved of.
" Best Scotch beef I ever put tooth into ! "
observed the " head lad " at old Tom Lawson's
stables.
" Ah ! " returned the host, who was a bit of
a wag, " your beef was cut from a colt of Lord
Glasgow's that was thought highly of at one time;
and he was shot the day before yesterday."
And it was so. For Lord Glasgow never sold
nor gave away a horse, but had all his " failures "
shot.
And then a great cry went up for brown
brandy.
CHAPTER XV11
"CAMPING OUT"
" Thou didst eat strange flesh,
Which some did die to look on."
The ups and downs of life Stirring adventures Marching on to
glory Shooting in the tropics Pepper-pot With the
Rajah Sahib Goat-sacrifices at breakfast time Simla to
Cashmere Manners and customs of Thibet Burmah No
place to get fat in Insects Voracity of the natives
Snakes Sport in the Jungle Loaded for snipe, sure to meet
tiger With the gippos No baked hedgehog Cheap milk.
THE intelligent reader may have gathered from
some of the foregoing pages that the experiences
of the writer have been of a variegated nature.
As an habitual follower of the Turf once
observed :
" When we're rich we rides in chaises,
And when we're broke we walks like "
Never mind what. It was an evil man who said
it, but he was a philosopher. Dinner in the
gilded saloon one day, on the next no dinner at
all, and the key of the street. Such is life !
Those experiences do not embrace a mortal
"CAMPING OUT" 193
combat with a " grizzly " in the Rockies, nor a
tramp through a miasma-laden forest in Darkest
Africa, with nothing better to eat than poisonous
fungi^ assorted grasses, red ants, and dwarfs ; nor
yet a bull fight. But they include roughing it
in the bush, on underdone bread and scorched
kangaroo, a tramp from Benares to the frontier
of British India, another tramp or two some way
beyond that frontier, a dreadful journey across
the eternal snows of the Himalayas, a day's shoot-
ing in the Khyber Pass, a railway accident in
Middlesex, a mad elephant (he had killed seven
men, one of them blind) hunt at Thayet Myoo,
in British Burmah, a fine snake anecdote or two,
a night at Cambridge with an escaped lunatic, a
tiger story (of course), and a capture for debt by
an officer of the Sheriff of Pegu, with no other
clothing on his body than a short jacket of gaily
coloured silk, and a loin cloth. My life's history
is never likely to be written chiefly through
sheer laziness on my own part, and the absence
of the gambling instinct on that of the average
publisher but like the brown gentleman who
smothered his wife, I have "seen things."
In this chapter no allusion will be made to
" up river " delights, the only idea of " camping
out " which is properly understood by the
majority of" up to date "young men and maidens ;
for this theme has been already treated, most
comically and delightfully, by Mr. Jerome, in the
funniest book I ever read. My own camping
experiences have been for the most part in foreign
lands, though I have seen the sun rise, whilst
reclining beneath the Royal trees in St. James's
i 9 4 CAKES AND ALE
Park ; and as this book is supposed to deal with
gastronomy, rather than adventure, a brief sketch
of camp life must suffice.
On the march ! What a time those who
"served the Widdy" by which disrespectful
term, our revered Sovereign was not known in
those days used to have before the continent of
India had been intersected by the railroad ! The
absence of one's proper quantum of rest, the forced
marches over kutcha (imperfectly made) bye-
roads, the sudden changes of temperature, raids
of the native thief, the troubles with " bobbery "
camels, the still more exasperating behaviour of
the bail-wallahs (bullock -drivers), the awful
responsibilities of the officer -on -baggage -guard,
on active duty, often in the saddle for fifteen
hours at a stretch, the absolutely necessary cattle-
raids, by the roadside all these things are well
known to those who have undergone them, but
are far too long "another story" to be related
here. As for the food partaken of during a
march with the regiment, the bill-of-fare differed
but little from that of the cantonments ; but the
officer who spent a brief holiday in a shooting
expedition had to " rough it " in more ways than
one. '
There was plenty of game all over the con-
tinent in my youthful days, and the average shot
need not have lacked a dinner, even if he had not
brought with him a consignment of " Europe "
provisions. English bread was lacking, certainly,
and biscuits, native or otherwise "otherwise"
for choice, as the bazaar article tasted principally
of pin-cushions and the smoke of dried and lighted
"CAMPING OUT" 195
cow -dung or the ordinary chupattt^ the flat,
unleavened cake, which the poor Indian manu-
factures for his own consumption. Cold tea is
by far the best liquid to carry or rather to have
carried for you whilst actually shooting; but
the weary sportsman will require something
more exciting, and more poetical, on his return
to camp. As for solid fare it was usually
Pepper-pot
for dinner, day by day. We called it Pepper-
pot that is to say, although it differed somewhat
from the West Indian concoction of that name,
for which the following is the recipe :
Put the remains of any cold flesh or fowl into a
saucepan, and cover with casaripe which has been
already described in the Curry chapter as extract of
Manioc root. Heat up the stew and serve.
Our pepper-pot was usually made in a gipsy-
kettle, suspended from a tripod. The foundation
of the stew was always a tin of some kind of
soup. Then a few goat chops mutton is bad
to buy out in the jungle and then any bird or
beast that may have been shot, divided into
fragments. I have frequently made a stew of
this sort, with so many ingredients in it that the
flavour when served out at table or on the
bullock-trunk which often did duty for a table
would have beaten the wit of man to describe.
There was hare soup "intilV (as the Scotsman
said to the late Prince Consort), and a collop or
two of buffalo- beef, with snipe, quails, and
jungle -fowl. There were half the neck of an
196 CAKES AND ALE
antelope and a few sliced onions lurking within
the bow!. And there were potatoes "intiPt,"
and plenty of pepper and salt. And for lack of
casaripe We flavoured the savoury mess with
mango chutnee and Tapp sauce. And if any
cook, English or foreign, can concoct a more
worthy dish than this, or more grateful to the
palate, said cook can come my way.
The old dak gharry method of travelling in
India may well come under the head of Camping
Out. In the hot weather we usually progressed
or got emptied into a ditch or collided with
something else, during the comparative " coolth "
of the night ; resting (which in Hindustan
usually means perspiring and calling the country
names) all day at one or other of the dak bunga-
lows provided by a benevolent Government for
the use of the wandering sahib. The larder at
one of those rest-houses was seldom well filled.
Although the khansamah who prostrated himself
in the sand at your approach would delare that
he was prepared to supply everything which the
protector -of- the- poor might deign to order, it
would be found on further inquiry that the
khansamah had, like the Player Queen in Hamlet,
protested too much that he was a natural
romancer. And his "everything" usually re-
solved itself into a " spatch-cock," manufactured
from the spectral rooster, who had heralded the
approach of the sahib's caravan.
A Rajah's
re massive.
the belief that the white sahib when not eating
ideas of hospitality are massive. Labouring under
the
"CAMPING OUT" 197
must necessarily be drinking, the commissariat
arrangements of Rajah dom are on a colossal scale
for the chief benefit of his major domo. I
might have bathed in dry champagne, had the
idea been pleasing, whilst staying with a certain
genial prince, known to irreverent British sub-
alterns as " Old Coppertail " ; whilst the bedroom
furniture was on the same liberal scale. True,
I lay on an ordinary native charpoy^ which might
have been bought in the bazaar for a few annas,
but there was a grand piano in one corner of the
apartment, and a buhl cabinet containing rare
china in another. There was a coloured print
of the Governor -General over the doorway, and
an oil painting of the Judgment of Solomon over
the mantelshelf. And on a table within easy
reach of the bed was a silver-plated dinner
service, decked with fruits and sweetmeats, and
tins of salmon, and pots of Guava jelly and mixed
pickles, and two tumblers, each of which would
have easily held a week -old baby. And there
was a case of champagne beneath that table, with
every appliance for cutting wires and extracting
the corks.
Another time the writer formed one of a small
party invited to share the hospitality of a potentate,
whose estate lay on the snowy side of Simla. The
fleecy element, however, was not in evidence in
June, the month of our visit, although towards
December Simla herself is usually wrapt in the
white mantle, and garrisoned by monkeys, who
have fled from the land of ice. Tents had been
erected for us in a barren -looking valley, some-
what famous, however, for the cultivation of
198 CAKES AND ALE
potatoes. There was an annual celebration of
some sort, the day after our arrival, and for break-
fast that morning an a I fresco meal had been
prepared for us, almost within whispering distance
of an heathen temple. And it was a breakfast !
There was a turkey stuffed with a fowl, to make
the breast larger, and there was a "Europe"
ham. A tin of lobster, a bottle of pickled
walnuts, a dreadful concoction, alleged to be an
omelette, but looking more like the sole of a
tennis shoe, potatoes, boiled eggs, a dish of Irish
stew, a fry of small fish, a weird-looking curry,
a young goat roasted whole, and a plum pudding !
The tea had hardly been poured out Kus-
sowlee beer, Epps's cocoa, and (of course)
champagne, and John Exshaw's brandy were also
on tap when a gentleman with very little on
proceeded to decapitate a goat at the foot of the
temple steps. This was somewhat startling,
but when the (presumed) high-priest chopped
off the head of another bleating victim, our meal
was interrupted. The executions had been
carried out in very simple fashion. First, the
priest sprinkled a little water on the neck of the
victim (who was held in position by an assistant),
and then retired up the steps. Then, brandish-
ing a small sickle, he rushed back, and in an
instant off went the head, which was promptly
carried, reeking with gore, within the temple.
But if, as happened more than once, the head
was not sliced off at the initial attempt, it was
left on the ground when decapitation had been
at length effected. The deity inside was evi-
dently a bit particular !
"CAMPING OUT" 199
Nine goats had been sacrificed, ere our
remonstrances were attended to j and we were
allowed to pursue our meal in peace. But I
don't think anybody had goat for breakfast that
morning.
Later on, the fun of the fair commenced, and
the pahariS) or hill men, trooped in from miles
round, with their sisters, cousins, and aunts.
Their wives, we imagined, were too busily
occupied in carrying their accustomed loads of
timber to and fro. Your Himalayan delights in
a fair, and the numerous swings and roundabouts
were all well patronised ; whilst the jugglers, and
the snake charmers in many instances it was
difficult to tell at a glance which was charmer
and which snake were all well patronised.
Later on, when the lamps had been lit, a burr a
natch was started, and the Bengali Baboos who
had come all the way from Simla in dhoolles to
be present at this, applauded vigorously. And
our host being in constant dread lest we should
starve to death or expire of thirst, never tired of
bidding us to a succession of banquets at which
we simply went through the forms of eating, to
please him. And just when we began to get
sleepy these simple hill folks commenced to dance
amongst themselves. They were just a little
monotonous, their choregraphic efforts. Parties
of men linked arms and sidled around fires of
logs, singing songs of their mountain homes the
while. And as they were evidently determined
to make a night of it, sleep for those who under-
stood not the game, with their tents close handy,
was out of the question. And when, as soon as we
200 CAKES AND ALE
could take our departure decently and decorously,
we started up the hill again, those doleful
monotonous dances were still in progress, al-
though the fires were out, and the voices de-
cidedly husky. A native of the Himalayas is
nothing if not energetic in his own interests be
it understood.
A few months later I formed one of a small
party who embarked on a more important
expedition than the last named, although we
traversed the same road. It is a journey which
has frequently been made since, from Simla to
Cashmere, going as far into the land of the
Great Llama as the inhabitants will allow the
stranger to do which is not very far ; but, in
the early sixties there were but few white men who
had even skirted Thibet. In the afternoon of
life, when stirring the fire has become prefer-
able to stirring adventure, it seems (to the
writer at all events) very like an attempt at
self-slaughter to have travelled so many hundreds
of miles along narrow goatpaths, with a khud
(precipice) of thousands of feet on one side or
the other ; picking one's way, if on foot, over
the frequent avalanche (or "land slip," as we
called it in those days) of shale or granite; or
if carried in a dhoolie which is simply a ham-
mock attached by straps to a bamboo pole
running the risk of being propelled over a
precipice by your heathen carriers. It is not the
pleasantest of sensations to cross a mountain
torrent by means of a frail bridge (called ajhula)
of ropes made from twigs, and stretched many
feet above the torrent itself, nor to " weather "
"CAMPING OUT" 201
a corner, whilst clinging tooth and nail to the
face of a cliff. And when there is any riding to
be done, most people would prefer a hill pony to
a yak, the native ox of Thibet. By far the best
part of a yak is his beautiful silky, fleecy tail,
which is largely used in Hindustan, by de-
pendants of governors - general, commanders-in-
chief, and other mighty ones, for the discomfiture
of the frequent fly. A very little equestrian
exercise on the back of a yak goes a long way ;
and if given my choice, I would sooner ride a
stumbling cab-horse in a saddle with spikes in
it.
But those days were our salad ones ; we were
not only "green of judgment," but admirers of
the beautiful, and reckless of danger. But it
was decidedly "roughing it." As it is advisable
to traverse that track as lightly laden as possible,
we took but few " Europe " provisions with us,
depending upon the villages, for the most part,
for our supplies. We usually managed to buy
a little flour, wherewith to make the inevit-
able chupati, and at some of the co-operative
stores en route, we obtained mutton of fair
flavour. We did not know in those days that
flesh exposed to the air, in the higher ranges of
the Himalayas, will not putrefy, else we should
nave doubtless made a species of biltong of the
surplus meat, to carry with us in case of any
famine about. So " short commons " frequently
formed the bill of fare. Our little stock of
brandy was carefully husbanded, against illness ;
and, judging from the subsequent histories of two
of the party, this was the most miraculous
202 CAKES AND ALE
feature of the expedition. For liquid refresh-
ment we had neat water, and the a la mode de
Thibet. Doctor Nansen, in his book on the
crossing of Greenland, inveighs strongly against
the use of alcohol in an Arctic expedition ; but
I confess that the first time I tasted Thibet tea
I would have given both my ears for a soda and
brandy. The raw tea was compressed into the
shape of a brick, with the aid of we did not
inquire what ; its infusion was drunk, either
cold or lukewarm, flavoured with salt, and a
small lump of butter which in any civilised
police court would have gained the vendor a
month's imprisonment without the option of a
fine.
The people of the district were in the habit
of gorging themselves with flesh when they
could get it ; and polyandry was another of their
pleasant customs. We saw one lady who was
married to three brothers, but di-d not boast of
it. Thibet is probably the most priest-ridden
country in the world, and ought to be the most
religious; for the natives can grind out their
prayers, on wheels, at short intervals, in pretty
much the same way as we grind our coffee in
dear old England.
But we reached the promised land at last ;
and here at least there was no lack of food and
drink. Meat was cheap in those days ; and one
of the party, without any bargaining whatever,
purchased a sheep for eight annas, or one shilling
sterling. Mutton is not quite as cheap at the
time of writing this book (1897), ^ believe ; but
in the long ago there were but few English
"CAMPING OUT" 05
visitors to the land of Lalla Rookh, and those
who did go had to obtain permission of the
Rajah, through the British Resident.
With improved transit, and a railroad from
Rangoon to Mandalay, matters gastronomic
may be better in British Burmah nowadays j but
in the course of an almost world-wide experience
I have never enjoyed food less than in Pagoda-
land during the sixties. And as a Burmese built
house was not a whit more comfortable than a
tent, and far less waterproof, this subject may
well be included in the chapter headed w Camp-
ing Out." Fruits there were, varied and plenti-
ful ; and if you only planted the crown of a pine-
apple in your compound one evening you would
probably find a decent-sized pine-apple above
ground next well, next week. At least so
they told me when I arrived in the country.
This fruit, in fact, was so plentiful that we used
to peel the pines, and gnaw them, just like a school-
boy would gnaw the ordinary variety of apple.
But we had no mutton not up the country,
that is to say ; and we were entirely dependent
upon Madras for potatoes. Therefore, as there
was only a steamer once a month from Madras
to Rangoon, which invariably missed the
Irrawaddy monthly mail-boat, we " exiles " had
to content ourselves with yams, or the abomin-
able " preserved " earth-apple. The insects of
the air wrestled with us at the mess-table, for
food ; and the man who o^id not swallow an
evil -tasting fly of some sort in his soup was
lucky. 1 As for the food of the Burman himself,
1 Our then commanding officer was noted for his powers of
204 CAKES AND ALE
"absolutely beastly" was no name for it.
Strips of cat-fish the colour of beef were served
at his marriage feasts ; and he was especially
fond of a condiment the name of which was
pronounced nuppee although that is probably
not the correct spelling, and I never studied
the language of that country which was con-
cocted from a smaller description of fish, buried
in the earth until decomposition had triumphed,
and then mashed up with ghee (clarified and
"postponed" butter). There was, certainly,
plenty of shooting to be obtained in the district j
but, as it rained in torrents for nine months in
every year, the shooter required a considerable
amount of nerve, and, in addition to a Boyton
suit, case-hardened lungs and throat. And,
singularly enough, it was an established fact that
if loaded for snipe you invariably met a tiger, or
something else with sharp teeth, and vice versa.
Also, you were exceptionally fortunate if you
did not step upon one of the venomous snakes of
the country, of whom the hamadryads bite was
said to be fatal within five minutes. I had
omitted to mention that snake is also a favourite
food of the Burman j and as I seldom went home
of an evening without finding a rat-snake or two
in the verandah, or the arm-chair, the natives had
snake for breakfast, most days. The rat-snake
is, however, quite harmless to life.
I have "camped out" in England once or
self-control. I once noticed him leave the table hurriedly, and
retire to the verandah. After an interval he returned, and
apologised to the President. Our revered chief had only swal-
lowed a flying bug. And he never even used a big D.
"CAMPING OUT" 205
twice ; once with a select circle of gipsies, the
night before the Derby I wished merely to
study character j and, after giving them a few
words of the Romany dialect, and a good deal of
tobacco, I was admitted into their confidences.
But the experience gained was not altogether
pleasing, nor yet edifying ; nor did we have
baked hedgehog for supper. In fact I have
never yet met the "gippo" (most of them keep
fowls) who will own to having tasted this bonne
louche of the descriptive writer. Possibly this
is on account of the scarcity of the hedgehog.
"Tea-kettle broth" bread sopped in water,
with a little salt and dripping to flavour the soup
on the other hand, figures on most of the
gipsy menus. And upon one occasion, very
early in the morning, another wanderer and the
writer obtained much-needed liquid refreshment
by milking the yield of a Jersey cow into each
other's mouths, alternately. But this was a long
time ago, and in the neighbourhood of Bagshot
Heath, and it was somebody else's cow j so let
no more be said about it.
I fear this chapter is not calculated to make
many mouths water. In fact what in the world
has brought it into the midst of a work on gas-
tronomy I am at a loss to make out. However
here it is.
CHAPTER XVIII
COMPOUND DRINKS
" Flow wine ! Smile woman !
And the universe is consoled."
Derivation of punch "Five" The "milk" brand The best
materials Various other punches Bischoff or Bishop
" Halo " punch Toddy The toddy tree of India Flip
A " peg " John Collins Out of the guard-room.
THE subject of PUNCH is such an important
one that it may be placed first on the list of
dainty beverages which can be made by the art
or application of man or woman.
First, let us take the origin of the word.
DOCTOR KITCHENER, an acknowledged authority,
during his lifetime, on all matters connected "with
eating and drinking, has laid it down that punch
is of West Indian origin, and that the word when
translated, means "five"; because there be five
ingredients necessary in the concoction of the
beverage. But Doctor Kitchener and his dis-
ciples (of whom there be many) may go to the
bottom of the cookery class ; for although from
the large connection which rum and limes have
COMPOUND DRINKS 207
with the mixture, there would seem to be a West
Indian flavour about it j the word " five," when
translated into West Indianese, is nothing like
"punch." Having satisfied themselves that this is a
fact, modern authorities have tried the East Indies
for the source of the name, and have discovered
that panch in Hindustani really does mean "five."
"Therefore," says one modern authority, "it is
named punch from the five ingredients which
compose it (i) spirit, (2) acid, (3) spice, (4)
sugar, (5) water." Another modern authority
calls punch " a beverage introduced into England
from India, and so called from being usually
made of five (Hindi, panch) ingredients arrack,
tea, sugar, water, and lemon juice." This sounds
far more like an East Indian concoction than the
other j but at the same time punch during the
latter half of the nineteenth century at all events
was as rare a drink in Hindustan as bhang in
Great Britain. The panch theory is an ingeni-
ous one, but there are plenty of other combina-
tions (both liquid and solid) of five to which the
word punch is never applied ; and about the last
beverage recommended by the faculty for the
consumption of the sojourner in the land of the
Great Mogul, would, I should think, be the en-
trancing, seductive one which we Britons know
under the name of punch. Moreover it is not
every punch-concoctor who uses five ingredients.
In the minds of some youthful members of the
Stock Exchange, for the most part water is an
altogether unnecessary addition to the alcoholic
mixture which is known by the above name.
And what manner of man would add spice to
20? CAKES AND ALE
that delight of old Ireland, "a jug o* punch ?"
On the other hand, in many recipes, there are
more than five ingredients used.
But after all, the origin of the name is of but
secondary importance, as long as you can make
punch. Therefore, we will commence with a
few recipes for
Milk Punch.
1. Three bottles of rum.
The most delicately-flavoured rum is the " Liquid
Sunshine }> brand.
One bottle of sherry.
1 3 Ibs of loaf-sugar.
The rind of six lemons, and the juice of twelve.
One quart of boiling skimmed milk.
Mix together, let the mixture stand eight days,
stirring it each day. Strain and bottle, and let it
stand three months. Then re-bottle, and let the
bottles lie on their sides in the cellar for two years,
to mature. The flavour will be much better than
if drunk after the first period of three months.
It is not everybody, however, who would care
to wait two years, three months, and eight days
for the result of his efforts in punch-making.
Therefore another recipe may be appended ; and
in this one no " close time " is laid down for the
consumption of the mixture.
2. Put into a bottle of rum or brandy the thinly-
pared rinds of three Seville oranges, and three lemons.
Cork tightly for two days. Rub off on 2 Ibs of lump
sugar the rinds of six lemons, squeeze the juice from
the whole of the fruit over the 2 Ibs of sugar, add
three quarts of boiling water, one of boiling milk,
half a teaspoonful of nutmeg, and mix all thoroughly
COMPOUND DRINKS 209
well together until the sugar is dissolved. Pour in
the rum or brandy, stir, and strain till clear ; bottle
closely.
There is more than one objection to this
recipe, (i) Rum, and not brandy (by itself),
should be used for milk punch. (2) There is an
" intolerable amount " of water ; and (3) the nut-
meg had better remain in the spice-box.
3. Cut off the thin yellow rind of four lemons
and a Seville orange, taking care not to include even
a fragment of the white rind, and place in a basin.
Pour in one pint of Jamaica rum, and let it stand,
covered over, twelve hours. Then strain, and mix
with it one pint of lemon juice, and two pints of
cold water, in which one pound of sugar-candy has
been dissolved ; add the whites of two eggs, beaten
to a froth, three pints more of rum, one pint of
madeira, one pint of strong green tea, and a large
wine-glassful of maraschino. Mix thoroughly, and
pour over all one pint of boiling milk. Let the
punch stand a little while, then strain through a
jelly-bag, and either use at once, or bottle off.
Here let it be added, lest the precept be for-
gotten, that the
Very best Materials
are absolutely necessary for the manufacture of
punch, as of other compound drinks. In the
above recipe for instance by " madeira," is meant
"Rare Old East Indian," and not marsala,
which wine, in French kitchens, is invariably
used as the equivalent of madeira. There must
be no inferior sherry, Gladstone claret, cheap
champagne, nor potato-brandy, used for any of
2io CAKES AND ALE
my recipes, or I will not be responsible for the
flavour of the beverage. The following is the
best idea of a milk punch known to the writer :
4. Over the yellow rind of four lemons and one
Seville orange, pour one pint of rum. Let it stand,
covered over, for twelve hours. Strain and mix in
two pints more of rum, one pint of brandy,
one pint of sherry, half-a-pint of lemon juice,
the expressed juice of a peeled pine-apple, one
pint of green tea, one pound of sugar dissolved in
one quart of boiling water, the whites of two eggs
beaten up, one quart of boiling milk. Mix well, let
it cool, and then strain through a jelly -bag, and
bottle off.
This punch is calculated to make the epicure
forget that he has just been partaking of conger-
eel broth instead of clear turtle.
Cambridge Milk Punch.
This a fairly good boys' beverage, there being
absolutely " no offence in't." Put the rind of half
a lemon (small) into one pint of new milk, with
twelve lumps of sugar. Boil very slowly for fifteen
minutes, then remove from the fire, take out the
lemon rind, and mix in the yolk of one egg, which
has been previously blended with one table-spoonful
of cold milk, two table-spoonfuls of brandy, and four
of rum. Whisk all together, and when the mixture
is frothed, it is ready to serve.
Oxford Punch.
There is no milk in this mixture, which
sounds like " for'ard on ! " for the undergraduate
who for the first time samples it.
COMPOUND DRINKS 211
Rub off the yellow rind of three lemons with
half-a-pound of loaf sugar. Put the result into a
large jug, with the yellow rind of one Seville orange,
the juice of three Seville oranges and eight lemons,
and one pint of liquefied calf's-foot jelly. ' Mix
thoroughly, then pour over two quarts of boiling
water, and set the jug on the hob for thirty minutes.
Strain the mixtftre into a punch-bowl, and when
cool avkl one small bottle of capillaire (an infusion
of maklenha** r "rn, flavoured with sugar and orange-
flower water) ; one pint of brandy, one pint of rum,
half-a-pint of dry sherry, and one quart of orange
shrub a mixture of orange-peel, juice, sugar, and
rum.
After drinking this, the young student will
be in a fit state to sally forth, with his fellows,
and " draw " a Dean, or drown an amateur
journalist.
I have a very old recipe, in MS., for
" BischofF," which I take to be the original
of the better known beverage called " Bishop," for
the manufacture of which I have also directions.
For the sake of comparison I give the two.
Eischoff.
Cut into four parts each, three Seville oranges,
and slightly score the rinds across with a sharp
knife. Roast the quarters lightly before a slow fire,
and put them into a bowl with two bottles of claret,
with a little cinnamon and nutmeg. Infuse this
mixture over a slow heat for five or six hours, then
pass it through a jelly-bag, and sweeten. It may be
drunk hot or cold, but in any case must never be
allowed to boil.
2i2 CAKES AND ALE
Bishop.
Two drachmas each of cloves, mace, ginger,
cinnamon, and allspice, boiled in half-a-pint of
water for thirty minutes. Strain. Put a bottle of
port in a saucepan over the fire, add the spiced
infusion, and a lemon stuck with six cloves. Whilst
this is heating gradually it must not boil take
four ounces of loaf sugar, and with the lumps grate
off the outer rind of a lemon into a punch-bowl.
Add the sugar, and juice, and the hot wine, etc. Add
another bottle of port, and serve either hot or cold.
I am prepared to lay a shade of odds on the
"op" against the "off."
Another old recipe has been quoted in some
of my earlier public efforts, under different names.
I have improved considerably upon the propor-
tion of the ingredients, and now hand the
whole back, under the name of
Halo Punch.
With a quarter pound of loaf sugar rub off the
outer rind of one lemon and two Seville oranges. Put
rind and sugar into a large punch-bowl with the
juice and pulp, mix the sugar well with the juice
and one teacupful of boiling water, and stir till cold.
Add half-a-pint of pine-apple syrup, one pint of
strong green tea, a claret-glassful of maraschino, a
smaller glassful of noyeau, half-a-pint of white rum,
one pint of brandy, and one bottle of champagne.
Strain and serve, having, if necessary, added more
sugar.
Note well the proportions. This is the same
beverage which some Cleveland friends of mine,
having read the recipe, thought boiling would
COMPOUND DRINKS 113
improve. The result was well, a consider-
able amount of chaos.
Glasgow Punch.
The following is from Peter's Letters to his
Kinsfolk^ and is from the pen of John Gibson
Lockhart :
The sugar being melted with a little cold water,
the artist squeezed about a dozen lemons through a
wooden strainer, and then poured in water enough
almost to fill the bowl. In this state the liquor goes
by the name of sherbet, and a few of the connoisseurs
in his immediate neighbourhood were requested to
give their opinion of it for in the mixing of the
sherbet lies, according to the Glasgow creed, at least
one-half of the whole battle. This being approved
of by an audible smack from the lips of the umpires,
the rum was added to the beverage, I suppose, in
something about the proportion from one to seven.
Does this mean one of sherbet and seven of
rum, or the converse ?
Last of all, the maker cut a few limes, and run-
ning each section rapidly round the rim of his bowl,
squeezed in enough of this more delicate acid to
flavour the whole composition. In this consists the
true tour-de-maitre of the punch-maker.
Well, possibly ; but it seems a plainish sort of
punch ; and unless the rum be allowed to pre-
ponderate, most of us would be inclined to call
the mixture lemonade. And I do not believe
that since Glasgow has been a city its citizens
ever drank much of that.
A few more punches, and then an anecdote.
i 4 CAKES AND ALE
Ale Punch.
One quart of mild ale in a bowl, add one wine-
glassful of brown sherry, the same quantity of old
brandy, a table-spoonful of sifted sugar, the peel and
juice of one lemon, a grate of nutmeg, and an ice-
berg.
N.B. Do not insert old ale, by mistake. And
for my own part, I think it a mistake to mix John
Barleycorn with wine (except champagne) and spirits.
Barbadoes Punch.
A table-spoonful of raspberry syrup, a ditto of sifted
sugar, a wine-glassful of water, double that quantity
of brandy, half a wine-glassful of guava jelly, liquid,
the juice of half a lemon, two slices of orange, one
slice of pine-apple, in a long tumbler. Ice and shake
well and drink through straws.
Curapoa Punch.
Put into a large tumbler one table -spoonful of
sifted sugar, one wine-glassful of brandy, the same
quantity of water, half a wine-glassful of Jamaica
rum, a wine-glassful of cura9oa, and the juice of half
a lemon ; fill the tumbler with crushed ice, shake,
and drink through straws.
Grassot Punch.
This has nothing to do with warm asparagus, so
have no fear. It is simply another big -tumbler
mixture, of one wine-glassful of brandy, a liqueur-
glassful of cura^oa, a squeeze of lemon, two tea-
spoonfuls sugar, one of syrup of strawberries, one
wine-glassful of water, and the thin rind of a lemon ;
fill up the tumbler with crushed ice, shake, and put
slices of ripe apricots atop. Drink how you like.
COMPOUND DRINKS 2i>
Most of the above are hot-weather beverages,
and the great beauty of some of them will be
found in the small quantity of water in the mix-
ture. Here is a punch which may be drunk in
any weather, and either hot or cold.
Regent Punch.
Pour into a bowl a wine-glassful of champagne,
the same quantities of hock, cura9oa, rum, and
madeira. Mix well, and add a pint of boiling tea,
sweetened. Stir well and serve.
Apropos of the derivation of "punch," I was
unaware until quite recently that Messrs. Brad-
bury's & Agnew's little paper had any connection
therewith. But I was assured by one who knew
all about it, that such was the case.
"What?" I exclaimed. "How can the
London Charivari possibly have anything to do
with this most seductive of beverages ? "
" My dear fellow," was the reply, " have you
never heard of Mark Lemon ? "
I turned to smite him hip and thigh j but the
jester had fled.
And now a word or two as to " TODDY."
One of the authorities quoted in the punch
difficulty declares that toddy is also an Indian
drink. So it is. But that drink no more
resembles what is known in more civilised lands
as toddy than I resemble the late king Solomon.
The palm-sap which the poor Indian distils into
arrack and occasionally drinks in its natural state
for breakfast after risking his neck in climbing
trees to get it, can surely have no connection
with hot whisky and water? iYet the authority
2i 5 CAKES AND ALE
says so ; but he had best be careful ere he pro-
mulgates his theory in the presence of Scotsmen
and others who possess special toddy- glasses.
This is how I make
Whisky Toddy.
The Irish call this whisky punch. But do not
let us wrangle over the name. Into an ordinary-
sized tumbler which has been warmed, put one
average lump of sugar, a ring of thin lemon peel, and
a silver tea-spoon. Fill the tumbler one quarter
full of water as near boiling point as possible. Cover
over until the sugar be dissolved and peel be infused.
Then add one wine-glassful not a small one of the
best whisky you can find the " Pollok " brand, and
the "R.B." are both excellent. Then drink the
toddy, or punch ; for should you attempt to add any
more water you will incur the lifelong contempt of
every Irishman or Scotsman who may be in the
same room. If Irish whisky be used, of course you
will select "John Jameson."
'Twixt ale-flip and egg-flip there is not much
more difference than 'twixt tweedledum and tweedle-
dee. Both are equally "more-ish" on a cold evening;
and no Christmas eve is complete without a jug of
one or the other.
Ale-flip.
Pour into a saucepan three pints of mild ale, one
table-spoonful of sifted sugar, a blade of mace, a clove,
and a small piece of butter; and bring the liquor to
a boil. Beat up in a basin the white of one egg and
the yolks of two, mixed with about a wine-glassful of
cold ale. Mix all together in the saucepan, then
pour into a jug, and thence into another jug, from a
height, for some minutes, to froth the flip thoroughly
but do not Jet it get cold.
COMPOUND DRINKS aiy
Heat one pint of ale, and pour into a jug. Add
two eggs, beaten with three ounces of sugar, and
pour the mixture from one jug to the other, as in
the preceding recipe. Grate a little nutmeg and
ginger over the flip before serving.
Were I to ask What is
A Peg?
I should probably be told that a peg was some-
thing to hang something or somebody else on, or
that it was something to be driven through or into
something else. And the latter would be the more
correct answer, for at the time of my sojourn in
the great continent of India, a peg meant a
large brandy-and-soda. At that time whisky
was but little known in Punkahland, and was
only used high up in the Punjaub during the
"cold weather" and it is cold occasionally in
that region, where for some months they are
enabled to make ice but that is une autre histoire.
Rum I once tasted at Simla, and gin will be
dealt with presently. But since the visit of
H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, a peg has always
signified a w/^V^-and-soda. And yet we have
not heard of any particular decrease in the death-
rate. Despite what those who have only stayed
a month or two in the country have committed
to print, alcohol is not more fatal in a tropical
country than a temperate one. But you must
not overdo your alcohol. I have seen a gay
young spark, a fine soldier, and over six feet in
height, drink eight pegs of a morning, ere he got
2i8 CAKES AND ALE
out of bed. There was no such thing as a " split
soda " or a split brandy either in those days.
We buried him in the Bay of Bengal just after a
cyclone, on our way home.
By the way, the real meaning of " peg " was
said to be the peg, or nail, driven into the coffin
of the drinker every time he partook. And the
coffin of many an Anglo-Indian of my acquaint-
ance was all nails. A
John Collins
is simply a gin-sling with a little curacoa in it.
That is to say, soda-water, a slice of lemon,
curacoa and gin. But by altering the pro-
portions this can be made a very dangerous potion
indeed. The officers of a certain regiment
which shall be nameless were in the habit of
putting this potion on tap, after dinner on a
guest night. It was a point of honour in those
evil, though poetical, times, to send no guest
empty away, and more than one of those enter-
tained by this regiment used to complain next
morning at breakfast a peg, or a swizzle, and a
hot pickle sandwich of the escape of " Private
John Collins " from the regimental guard-room.
For towards dawn there would not be much
soda-water in that potion which was usually
served hot at that hour.
CHAPTER XIX
CUPS AND CORDIALS
1 Can any mortal mixture
Breathe such divine, enchanting ravishment?**
" The evil that men do lives after them. "
Five recipes for claret cup Balaclava cup Orgeat Ascot cup-
Stout and champagne Shandy-gafF for millionaires Ale
cup Cobblers which will stick to the last Home Ruler
Cherry brandy Sloe gin Home-made, if possible A new
industry Apricot brandy Highland cordial Bitters
Jumping-powder Orange brandy " Mandragora " " Sleep
rock thy brain ! "
I SUPPOSE there are almost as many recipes for
claret cup as for a cold in the head. And of
the many it is probable that the greater propor-
tion will produce a cup which will neither cheer
nor inebriate ; for the simple reason that nobody,
who was not inebriated already, would be phy-
sically capable of drinking enough of it. Let us
first of all take the late Mr. Donald's recipe for
120 CAKES AND ALE
Claret Cup :
A. i bottle claret.
1 wine-glassful fine pale brandy.
| do. chartreuse yellow.
\ do. cura^oa.
do. maraschino.
2 bottles soda or seltzer. 1
I lemon, cut in thin slices.
A few sprigs of borage ; not much.
Ice and sugar to taste.
Here is a less expensive recipe :
B. Put into a bowl the rind of one lemon pared
very thin, add some sifted sugar, and pour over it a
wine-glassful of sherry ; then add a bottle of claret,
more sugar to taste, a sprig of verbena, one bottle of
aerated water, and a grated nutmeg ; strain and ice
it well.
Once more let the fact be emphasised that the
better the wine, spirit, etc., the better the cup.
Here is a good cup for Ascot, when the sun
is shining, and you are entertaining the fair sex.
C. Put in a large bowl three bottles of claret (St.
Estephe is the stamp of wine), a wine-glassful (large)
of cura9oa, a pint of dry sherry, half a pint of old
brandy, a large wine-glassful of raspberry syrup, three
oranges and one lemon cut into slices ; add a few
sprigs of borage and a little cucumber rind, two
bottles of seltzer water, and three bottles of Stretton
water. Mix well, and sweeten. Let it stand for an
1 An fexcellent aerated water and a natural one, is obtained
from springs in the valley beneath the Long Mynd, near Church
Stretton, in Shropshire. In fact, the Stretton waters deserve to
be widely known, and are superior to most of the foreign ones.
CUPS AND CORDIALS 221
hour, and then strain. Put in a large block of ice, and
a few whole strawberries. Serve in small tumblers.
Another way and a simpler :
D. Pour into a large jug one bottle of claret, add
two wine-glassfuls of sherry, and half a glass of maras-
chino. Add a few sliced nectarines, or peaches, and
sugar to taste (about a table-spoonful and a half).
Let it stand till the sugar is dissolved, then put in a
sprig of borage. Just before using add one bottle of
Stretton water, and a large piece of ice.
My ideal claret cup :
E. 2 bottles Pontet Canet.
2 wine-glassfuls old brandy.
I wine-glassful curacoa.
1 pint bottle sparkling moselle.
2 bottles aerated water.
A sprig or two of borage, and a little lemon peel.
Sugar ad lib. : one cup will not require much.
Add the moselle and popwater just before using ;
then put in a large block of ice.
Those who have never tried can have no idea
of the zest which a small proportion of moselle
lends to a claret cup.
My earliest recollection of a cup dates from old
cricketing days beneath " Henry's holy shade,"
on " a match day " as poor old " Spanky " used
to phrase it ; a day on which that prince of
philosophers and confectioners sold his wares for
cash only. Not that he had anything to do
with the compounding of the
Cider Cup.
Toast a slice of bread and put it at the bottom of
^^^ CAKES AND ALE
a large jug. Grate over the toast nearly half a small
nutmeg, and a very little ginger. Add a little thin
lemon rind, and six lumps of sugar. Then add two
wine-glasses of sherry, and (if for adults) one of brandy.
(If for boys the brandy in the sherry will suffice.)
Add also the juice of a small lemon, two bottles of
lively water, and (last of all) three pints of cider.
Mix well, pop in a few sprigs of borage, and a block
or two of ice.
Remember once more that the purer the
cider the better will be the cup. There is an
infinity of bad cider in the market. There used
to be a prejudice against the fermented juice of
the apple for all who have gouty tendencies ;
but as a " toe-martyr " myself, I can bear testi-
mony to the harmlessness of the "natural"
Norfolk cider made at Attleborough, in the which
is no touch of Podagra.
For a good
Champagne Cup
vide Claret Cup A. Substituting the " sparkling "
for the "ruby," the ingredients are precisely the
same.
A nice, harmless beverage, suitable for a tennis
party, or to accompany the " light refreshments "
served at a " Cinderella " dance, or at the " break-
ing-up " party at a ladies' school, is
Chablis Cup.
Dissolve four or five lumps of sugar in a quarter of
a pint of boiling water, and put it into a bowl with
a very thin sJ'ce of lemon rind ; let it stand for half-
an-hour, then add a bottle of' chablis, a sprig of ver-
bena, a wine-glassful of sherry, and half-a-pint of
CUPS AND CORDIALS 223
water. Mix well, and let the mixture stand for
a while, then strain, add a bottle of seltzer water, a
few strawberries or raspberries, and a block of ice.
Serve in small glasses.
Balaclava Cup.
" Claret to right of 'em,
* Simpkin ' to left of 'em
Cup worth a hundred ! "
Get a large bowl, to represent the Valley which
only the more rabid abstainer would call the " Valley
of Death." You will next require a small detach-
ment of thin lemon rind, about two table-spoonfuls of
sifted sugar, the juice of two lemons, and half a
cucumber, cut into thin slices, with the peel on.
Let all these ingredients skirmish about within the
bowl ; then bring up your heavy cavalry in the shape
of two bottles of Chateau something, and one of the
best champagne you have got. Last of all, unmask
your soda-water battery ; two bottles will be sufficient.
Ice, and serve in tumblers.
Crimean Cup.
This is a very serious affair. So was the war.
The cup, however, leads to more favourable
results, and does not, like the campaign, leave a
bitter taste in the mouth. Here are the in-
gredients :
One quart of syrup of orgeat (to make this vide
next recipe), one pint and a half of old brandy, half
a pint of maraschino, one pint of old rum, two large
and one small bottles of champagne, three bottles of
Seltzer-water, half-a-pound of sifted sugar, and the
juice of five lemons. Peel the lemons, and put the
thin rind in a mortar, with the sugar. Pound them
224 CAKES AND ALE
well, and scrape the result with a silver spoon into
a large bowl. Squeeze in the juice of the lemons,
add the seltzer water, and stir till the sugar is quite
dissolved. Then add the orgeat, and whip the
mixture well with a whisk, so as to whiten it. Add
the maraschino, rum, and brandy, and strain the whole
into another bowl. Just before the cup is required,
put in the champagne, and stir vigorously with a
punch ladle. The champagne should be well iced,
as no apparent ice is allowable in this mixture.
Orgeat.
Blanch and pound three-quarters of a pound of
sweet almonds, and thirty bitter almonds, in one
table-spoonful of water. Stir in by degrees two pints
of water and three pints of milk. Strain the mixture
through a cloth. Dissolve half-a-pound of loaf
sugar in one pint of water. Boil and skim well, and
then mix with the almond water. Add two table-
spoonfuls of orange-flower water, and half-a-pint of
old brandy. Be careful to boil the eau sucre well, as
this concoction must not be too watery.
Ascot Cup.
Odds can be laid freely on this ; and the host
should stay away from the temptations of the
betting-ring, on purpose to make it. And
parenthetically be it observed the man who has
no soul for cup-making should never entertain at
a race meeting. The servants will have other
things to attend to ; and even if they have not
it should be remembered that a cup, or punch,
like a salad, should always, if possible, be mixed
by some one who is going to partake of the
same.
CUPS AND CORDIALS 223
Dissolve six ounces of sugar in half- a -pint of
boiling water ; add the juice of three lemons, one
pint of old brandy, a wine-glassful of cherry brandy,
a wine-glassful of maraschino, half a wine-glassful of
yellow chartreuse, two bottles of champagne. All
these should be mixed in a large silver bowl Add
a few sprigs of borage, a few slices of lemon, half-a-
dozen strawberries, half-a-dozen brandied cherries,
and three bottles of seltzer water. Put the bowl,
having first covered it over, into the refrigerator for
one hour, and before serving, put a small iceberg
into the mixture, which should be served in little
tumblers.
How many people, I wonder, are aware that
Champagne and Guinness* Stout
make one of the best combinations possible ?
You may search the wide wide world for a
cookery book which will give this information ;
but the mixture is both grateful and strengthen-
ing, and is, moreover, far to be preferred to what
is known as
Rich Mans Shandy Gajfc
which is a mixture of champagne and ale. The
old Irishman said that the " blackgyard " should
never be placed atop of the " gintleman," intend-
ing to convey the advice that ale should not
be placed on the top of champagne. But the
" black draught " indicated just above is well
worth attention. It should be drunk out of a
pewter tankard, and is specially recommended
as a between-the-acts refresher for the amateur
actor.
226 CAKES AND ALE
Ale Cup.
Squeeze the juice of a lemon into a round of hot
toast ; lay on it a thin piece of the rind, a table-
spoonful of pounded sugar, a little grated nutmeg,
and a sprig of balm. Pour over these one glass of
brandy, two glasses of sherry, and three pints of mild
ale. Do not allow the balm to remain in the
mixture many minutes.
One of the daintiest of beverages is a
Moselle Cup.
Ingredients : One bottle of moselle. One glass
of brandy. Four or five thin slices of pine-apple.
The peel of half a lemon, cut very thin. Ice ; and
sugar ad lib. Just before using add one bottle of
sparkling water.
Sherry Cobbler
although a popular drink in America, is but little
known on this side of the Atlantic. Place in a soda-
water tumbler two wine-glassfuls of sherry, one table-
spoonful of sifted sugar, and two or three slices of
orange. Fill the tumbler with crushed ice, and shake
well. Drink through straws.
Champagne Cobbler.
Put into a large tumbler one table -spoonful of
sifted sugar, with a thin paring of lemon and orange
peel ; fill the tumbler one-third full of crushed ice,
and the remainder with champagne. Shake, and
ornament with a slice of lemon, and a strawberry or
two. Drink through straws.
CUPS AND CORDIALS *a 7
Home Ruler.
This was a favourite drink at the bars of the
House of Commons, during the reign of the
Uncrowned King. It was concocted of the yolks of
two raw eggs, well beaten, a little sugar added, then
a tumbler of hot milk taken gradually into the
mixture, and last of all a large wine-glassful of " J. J."
whisky.
Cordials.
In treating of cordials, it is most advisable that
they be home made. The bulk of the cherry
brandy, ginger brandy, etc., which is sold over
the counter is made with inferior brandy j and
frequently the operation of blending the virtue of
the fruit with the spirit has been hurried.
We will commence with the discussion of the
favourite cordial of all,
Cherry Brandy.
This can either be made from Black Gean
cherries, or Morellas, but the latter are better for
the purpose. Every pound of cherries will require
one quarter of a pound of white sugar, and one pint
of the best brandy. The cherries, with the sugar
well mixed with them, should be placed in wide-
mouthed bottles, filled up with brandy ; and if the
fruit be previously pricked, the mixture will be
ready in a month. But a better blend is procured
if the cherries are untouched, and this principle holds
good with all fruit treated in this way, and left
corked for at least three months.
Sloe Gin.
For years the sloe, which is the fruit of the
black-thorn, was used in England for no other
128 CAKES AND ALE
purpose than the manufacture of British Port.
But at this end of the nineteenth century, the
public have been, and are, taking kindly to the
cordial, which for a long time had been despised
as an " auld wife's drink." As a matter of fact,
it is just as tasty, and almost as luscious as cherry
brandy. But since sloe gin became fashionable,
it has become almost impossible for dwellers
within twenty or thirty miles of London to make
the cordial at home. For sloes fetch something
like sixpence or sevenpence a pound in the market;
and in consequence the hedgerows are " raided "
by the (otherwise) unemployed, the fruit being
usually picked before the proper time, i.e. when
the frost has been on it. The manufacture of sloe
gin is as simple as that of cherry brandy.
All that is necessary to be done is to allow I
Ib. of sugar (white) to I Ib. of sloes. Half fill
a bottle which need not necessarily be a wide-
mouthed one with sugared fruit, and "top up"
with gin. If the sloes have been pricked, the liquor
will be ready for use in two or three months ; but
do not hurry it.
In a year's time the gin will have eaten all the
goodness out of the unpricked fruit, and it is in
this gradual blending that the secret (as before
observed) of making these cordials lies. As a
rule, if you call for sloe gin at a licensed house of
entertainment, you will get a ruby -coloured
liquid, tasting principally of gin and not good
gin " at that " This is because the making has
been hurried. Properly matured sloe gin should
be the colour of full-bodied port wine.
CUPS AND CORDIALS 229
Apricot Brandy.
This is a cordial which is but seldom met with
in this country. To every pound of fruit (which
should not be quite ripe) allow one pound of
loaf sugar. Put the apricots into a preserving-pan,
with sufficient water to cover them. Let them
boil up, and then simmer gently until tender.
Remove the skins. Clarify and boil the sugar, then
pour it over the fruit. Let it remain twenty-four
hours. Then put the apricots into wide-mouthed
bottles, and fill them up with syrup and brandy,
half and half. Cork them tightly, with the tops of
corks sealed. This apricot brandy should be pre-
pared in the month of July, and kept twelve months
before using.
Highland Cordial.
Here is another rare old recipe. Ingredients,
one pint of white currants, stripped of their stalks,
the thin rind of a lemon, one teaspoonful of essence
of ginger, and one bottle of old Scotch whisky.
Let the mixture stand for forty-eight hours, and
then strain through a hair sieve. Add one pound of
loaf sugar, which will take at least a day to thoroughly
dissolve. Then bottle off, and cork well. It will
be ready for use in three months, but will keep
longer.
Bitters.
One ounce of Seville orange-peel, half an ounce
of gentian root, a quarter of an ounce of cardamoms.
Husk the cardamoms, and crush them with the
gentian root. Put them in a wide-mouthed bottle,
and cover with brandy or whisky. Let the mixture
remain for twelve days, then strain, and bottle off
for use, after adding one ounce of lavender drops.
2 3 CAKES AND ALE
Ginger Brandy.
Bruise slightly two pounds of black currants,
and mix them with one ounce and a half of ground
ginger. Pour over them one bottle and a half of
best brandy, and let the mixture stand for two days.
Strain off the liquid, and add one pound of loaf sugar
which has been boiled to a syrup in a little water.
Bottle and cork closely.
" Jumping Pffwder "
comes in very handy, on a raw morning, after
you have ridden a dozen miles or so to a
lawn meet. " No breakfast, thanks, just a wee
nip, that's all." And the ever ready butler hands
round the tray. If you are wise, you will declare
on
Orange Brandy
which, as a rule, is well worth sampling, in a
house important enough to entertain hunting
men. And orange brandy "goes" much better
than any other liqueur, or cordial, before noon.
It should be made in the month of March.
Take the thin rinds of six Seville oranges, and put
them into a stone jar, with half-a-pint of the strained
juice, and two quarts of good old brandy. Let it
remain three days, then add one pound and a quarter
of loaf sugar broken, not pounded and stir till
the sugar is dissolved. Let the liquor stand a day,
strain it through paper till quite clear, pour into
bottles, and cork tightly. The longer it is kept the
better.
CUPS AND CORDIALS 231
Mandr agora.
" Can't sleep." Eh ? What ! not after a dry
chapter on liquids ? Drink this, and you will
not require any rocking.
Simmer half-a-pint of old ale, and just as it is
about to boil pour it into a tumbler, grate a little
nutmeg over it, and add a teaspoonful of moist
sugar, and two tablespoonfuls of brandy. Good
night, Hamlet !
CHAPTER XX
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK
" Something too much of this."
" A nipping and an eager air."
Evil effects of dram-drinking The " Gin-crawl " Abstinence
in H.M. service City manners and customs Useless to
argue with the soaker Cocktails Pet names for drams
The free lunch system Fancy mixtures Why no Cassis ?
Good advice like water on a duck's back.
WHILST holding the same opinion as the epicure
who declared that good eating required good drink-
ing, there is no question but that there should
be a limit to both. There is, as Shakespeare
told us, a tide in the affairs of man, so why should
there not be in this particular affair ? Why
should it be only ebb tide during the few hours
that the man is wrapped in the arms of a
Bacchanalian Morpheus, either in bed or in
custody ? The abuse of good liquor is surely as
criminal a folly as the abstention therefrom ; and
the man who mixes his liquors injudiciously
/acks that refinement of taste and understanding
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK 233
which is necessary for the appreciation of a good
deal of this book, or indeed of any other useful
volume. Our grandfathers swore terribly, and
drank deep ; but their fun did not commence
until after dinner. And they drank, for the
most part, the best of ale, and such port wine as
is not to be had in these days of free trade
(which is only an euphemism for adulteration)
and motor cars. Although mine own teeth are,
periodically, set on edge by the juice of the grape
consumed by an ancestor or two ; although the
gout within me is an heritage from the three-,
aye ! and four-, bottle era, I respect mine ancestors,
in that they knew not " gin and bitters." The
baleful habit of alcoholising the inner sinner be-
tween meal times, the pernicious habit of dram-
drinking, or "nipping," from early morn till
dewy eve, was not introduced into our cities
until the latter half of the nineteenth century
had set in. " Brandy-and-soda," at first only used
as a " livener " and a deadly livener it is was
unknown during the early Victorian era j and
the " gin-crawl," that interminable slouch around
the hostelries, is a rank growth of modernity.
The " nipping habit " came to us, with other
pernicious "notions," from across the Atlantic
Ocean. It was Brother Jonathan who established
the bar system ; and although for the most part,
throughout Great Britain, the alcohol is dis-
pensed by young ladies with fine eyes and a
great deal of adventitious hair, and the "bar-
keep," with his big watch chain, and his " guns,"
placed within easy reach, for quick-shooting
Saloon practice, is unknown on this side, the
234 CAKES AND ALE
hurt of the system (to employ an Americanism)
u gets there just the same." There is not the
same amount of carousing in the British army
as in the days when I was a " gilded popinjay "
(in the language of Mr. John Burns ; "a five-
and-twopenny assassin," in the words of some-
body else). In those days the use of alcohol, if
not absolutely encouraged for the use of the
subaltern, was winked at by his superiors, as
long as the subalterns were not on duty, or on
the line of march and I don't know so much
about the line of march, eithe^ But with any
orderly or responsible duty to be done, the
beverage of heroes was not admired. " Now
mind," once observed our revered colonel, in the
ante-room, after dinner, " none of you young
officers get seeing snakes and things, or otherwise
rendering yourselves unfit for service ; or I'll try
the lot of you by court martial, I will, by ."
Here the adjutant let the regimental bible drop
with a bang. Tea is the favourite ante-room
refreshment nowadays, when the officer, young
or old, is always either on duty, or at school.
And the education of the modern warrior is never
completed.
But the civilian sing ho! the wicked
civilian is a reveller, and a winebibber, for the
most part. Very little business is transacted
except over what is called "a friendly glass."
" I want seven hundred an' forty-five from you,
old chappie," says Reggie de Beers of the "House,"
on settling day. "Right," replies his friend
young " Berthas " : " toss you double or quits.
Down with it ! " And it would be a cold day
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK 235
were not a magnum or two of " the Boy " to be
opened over the transaction. The cheap eating-
house keeper who has spent his morning at the
"market," cheapening a couple of pigs, or a dozen
scraggy fowls, will have spent double the money
he has saved in the bargain, in rum and six-
penny ale, ere he gets home again ; and even a
wholesale deal in evening journals, between two
youths in the street, requires to be "wetted."
Very sad is it not ? But, as anything which I
who am popularly supposed to be something
resembling a roysterer, but who am in reality one
of the most discreet of those who enjoy life can
write is not likely to work a change in the
system which obtains amongst English-speaking
nations, perhaps the sooner I get on with the
programme the better. Later on I may revert
to the subject.
Amongst daylight (and midnight, for the
matter of that) drinks, the COCKTAIL, that
fascinating importation from Dollarland, holds a
prominent place. This is a concoction for
which, with American bars all over the Metro-
polis, the cockney does not really require any
recipe. But as I trust to have some country
readers, a few directions may be appended.
Brandy Cocktail.
One wine-glassful of old brandy, six drops of
angostura bitters, and twenty drops of cura9oa, in
a small tumbler all cocktails should be made in
a small silver tumbler shake, and pour into glass
tumbler, then fill up with crushed ice. Put a shred
of lemon peel atop.
8
aj6 CAKES AND ALE
Champagne Cocktail.
One teaspoonful of sifted sugar, ten drops of
angostura bitters, a small slice of pine-apple, and a
shred of lemon peel. Strain into glass tumbler, add
crushed ice, and as much champagne as the tumbler
will hold. Mix with a spoon.
Bengal Cocktail.
Fill tumbler half full of crushed ice. Add thirty
drops of maraschino, one table-spoonful of pine-apple
syrup, thirty drops of cura9oa, six drops of angostura
bitters, one wine-glassful of old brandy. Stir, and
put a shred of lemon peel atop.
Milford Cocktail.
(Dedicated to Mr. Jersey.)
Put into a half-pint tumbler a couple of lumps
of best ice, one teaspoonful of sifted sugar, one
teaspoonful of orange bitters, half a wine-glassful of
brandy. Top up with bottled cider, and mix with
a spoon. Serve with a strawberry, and a sprig of
verbena atop.
Manhattan Cocktail.
Half a wine-glassful of vermouth (Italian), hair
a wine-glassful of rye whisky (according to the
American recipe, though, personally, I prefer Scotch),
ten drops of angostura bitters, and six drops of
cura9oa. Add ice, shake well, and strain. Put a
shred of lemon peel atop.
Yum Turn Cocktail.
Break the yolk of a new-laid egg into a small
tumbler, and put a teaspoonful of sugar on it.
Then six drops of angostura bitters, a wine-glassful
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK 237
of sherry, and half a wine-glassful of brandy. Shake
all well together, and strain. Dust a very little
cinnamon over the top.
Gin Cocktail.
Ten drops of angostura bitters, one wine-glassful
of gin, ten drops of cura^oa, one shred of lemon
peel. Fill up with ice, shake, and strain.
Newport Cocktail.
Put two lumps of ice and a small slice of lemon
into the tumbler, add six drops of angostura bitters,
half a wine-glassful of noyau, and a wine-glassful of
brandy. Stir well, and serve with peel atop.
Saratoga Cocktail.
This is a more important affair, and requires a
large tumbler for the initial stage. One teaspoonful
of pine-apple syrup, ten drops of angostura bitters,
one teaspoonful of maraschino, and a wine-glassful of
old brandy. Nearly fill the tumbler with crushed
ice, and shake well. Then place a couple of straw-
berries in a small tumbler, strain the liquid on them,
put in a strip of lemon peel, and top up with
champagne.
Whisky Cocktail.
Put into a small tumbler ten drops of angostura
bitters, and one wine-glassful of Scotch whisky. Fill
the tumbler with crushed ice, shake well, strain
into a large wine-glass, and place a strip of peel
atop.
But the ordinary British " bar-cuddler " as
he is called in the slang of the day recks not of
cocktails, nor, indeed, of Columbian combinations
238 CAKES AND ALE
of any sort. He has his own particular " vanity,"
and frequently a pet name for it. " Gin-and-
angry-story" (angostura), " slow-and-old " (sloe-
gin and Old Tom), " pony o* Burton, please
miss," are a few of the demands the attentive
listener may hear given. Orange-gin, gin-and-
orange-gin, gin-and-sherry (O bile where is thy
sting ? ), are favourite midday " refreshers " ; and
I have heard a well-known barrister call for
"a split Worcester" (a small wine-glassful of
Worcester sauce with a split soda), without a
smile on his expressive countenance. " Small lem.
and a dash " is a favourite summer beverage, and,
withal, a harmless one, consisting of a small
bottle of lemonade with about an eighth of a
pint of bitter ale added thereto. In one old-
fashioned hostelry I wot of the same in which
the chair of the late Doctor Samuel Johnson is
on view customers who require to be stimulated
with gin call for "rack," and Irish whisky is
known by none other name than " Cork." The
habitual " bar-cuddler " usually rubs his hands
violently together, as he requests a little attention
from the presiding Hebe ; and affects a sort of
shocked surprise at the presence on the scene of
any one of his friends or acquaintances. He is
well-up, too, in the slang phraseology of the day,
which he will ride to death on every available
opportunity. Full well do I remember him in
the " How's your poor feet ? " era ; and it seems
but yesterday that he was informing the company
in assertive tones, " Now we shant be long ! "
The " free lunch " idea of the Yankees is only
thoroughly carried out in the " North Countree,"
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK 139
where, at the best hotels, there is often a great
bowl of soup, or a dish of jugged hare, or of
Irish stew, pro bono publico ; and by publico is
implied the hotel directorate as well as the
customers. In London, however, the free lunch
seldom soars above salted almonds, coffee beans,
cloves, with biscuits and American cheese. But
at most refreshment-houses is to be obtained for
cash some sort of a restorative sandwich, or bonne
bouche, in the which anchovies and hard-boiled
eggs play leading parts ; and amongst other re-
storative food, I have noticed that parallelograms
of cold Welsh rarebit are exceedingly popular
amongst wine-travellers and advertisement-agents.
The genius who propounded the statement that
"there is nothing like leather" could surely
never have sampled a cold Welsh rarebit !
Bosom Caresser.
Put into a small tumbler one wine-glassful of sherry,
half a wine-glassful of old brandy, the yolk of an egg,
two teaspoonfuls of sugar, and two grains of cayenne
pepper ; add crushed ice, shake well, strain, and
dust over with nutmeg and cinnamon.
(or " Knickerbein " as I have seen it spelt), used
to be a favourite "short" drink in Malta, and
consisted of the yolk of an egg (intact) in a
wine-glass with layers of curacoa, maraschino,
and green chartreuse ; the liquors not allowed to
mix with one another. The " knickerbein "
recipe differs materially from this, as brandy is
240 CAKES AND A.LE
substituted for chartreuse, and the ingredients
are shaken up and strained, the white of the egg
being whisked and placed atop. But, either way,
you will get a good, bile -provoking mixture.
In the
West Indies,
if you thirst for a rum and milk, cocoa-nut milk
is the "only wear"; and a very delicious potion
it is. A favourite mixture in Jamaica was the
juice of a " star " apple, the juice of an orange,
a wine-glassful of sherry, and a dust of nutmeg.
I never heard a name given to this.
Bull's MIL
This is a comforting drink for summer or
winter. During the latter season, instead of
adding ice, the mixture may be heated.
One teaspoonful of sugar in a large tumbler, half-
a-pint of milk, half a wine-glassful of rum, a wine-
glassful of brandy ; add ice, shake well, strain, and
powder with cinnamon and nutmeg.
Fairy Kiss.
Put into a small tumbler the juice of a quarter of
lemon, a quarter of a wine-glassful each of the follow-
ing : Vanilla syrup, cura9oa, yellow chartreuse,
brandy. Add ice, shake, and strain.
Flash of Lightning.
One-third of a wine-glassful each of the following,
in a small tumbler : Raspberry syrup, cura9oa,
brandy, and three drops of angostura bitters. Add
ice, shake and strain.
THE DAYLIGHT BRINK. 4 i
Flip Flap.
One wine-glassful of milk in a small tumbler, one
well-beaten egg, a little sugar, and a wine-glassful of
port. Ice, shake, strain, and sprinkle with cinna-
mon and nutmeg.
Maiden's Blush.
Half a wine-glassful of sherry in a small tumbler, a
quarter of a wine-glassful of strawberry syrup, and a
little lemon juice. Add ice, and a little raspberry
syrup. Shake, and drink through straws.
Athole Brose
is compounded, according to a favourite author,
in the following manner :
" Upon virgin honeycombs you pour, according
to their amount, the oldest French brandy and the
most indisputable Scotch whisky in equal pro-
portions. You allow this goodly mixture to stand
for days in a large pipkin in a cool place, and it is
then strained and ready for drinking. Epicures
drop into the jug, by way of imparting artistic
finish, a small fragment of the honeycomb itself.
This I deprecate."
Tiger's Milk.
Small tumbler. Half a wine-glassful each of cider
and Irish whisky, a wine-glassful of peach brandy.
Beat up separately the white of an egg with a little
sugar, and add this. Fill up the tumbler with ice ;
shake, and strain. Add half a tumbler of milk, and
grate a little nutmeg atop.
Wyndham.
Large tumbler. Equal quantities (a liqueur glass
24.2 CAKES AND ALE
of each) of maraschino, cura^oa, brandy, with a little
orange peel, and sugar. Add a glass of champagne,
and a small bottle of seltzer water. Ice, and mix
well together. Stir with a spoon.
Happy Eliza.
Put into a skillet twelve fresh dried figs cut open,
four apples cut into slices without peeling, and half
a pound of loaf sugar, broken small. Add two quarts
of water, boil for twenty minutes, strain through a
where's the brandy ? Stop ! I've turned over
two leaves, and got amongst the Temperance Drinks.
Rein back !
Mint Julep.
This, properly made, is the most delicious of all
American beverages. It is mixed in a large tumbler,
in the which are placed, first of all, two and a half
table - spoonfuls of water, one table - spoonful of
sugar (crushed), and two or three sprigs of mint,
which should be pressed, with a spoon or crusher,
into the sugar and water to extract the flavour.
Add two wine-glassfuls of old brandy now we
shan't be long fill up with powdered ice, shake
well, get the mint to the top of the tumbler, stalks
down, and put a few strawberries and slices of
orange atop. Shake in a little rum, last of all,
and drink through straws.
Possets.
(An eighteenth-century recipe.)
"Take three gills of sweet cream, a grated rind
of lemon, and juice thereof, three-quarters of a pint
of sack or Rhenish wine. Sweeten to your taste
with loaf sugar, then beat in a bowl with a whisk
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK 243
for one hour, and fill your glasses and drink to the
king."
We are tolerably loyal in this our time ; still
it is problematical if there exist man or woman
in Merry England, in our day who would whisk
a mixture for sixty minutes by the clock, even
with the prospect of drinking to the reigning
monarch.
Brandy Sour.
This is simplicity itself. A tea-spoonful of sifted
sugar in a small tumbler, a little lemon rind and
juice, one wine-glassful of brandy. Fill nearly up
with crushed ice, shake and strain. WHISKY SOUR is
merely Scotch whisky treated in the same kind,
open-handed manner, with the addition of a few
drops of raspberry syrup.
Blue Blazer.
Don't be frightened ; there is absolutely no
danger. Put into a silver mug, or jug, previously
heated, two wine-glassfuls of overproof (or proof)
Scotch whisky, and one wine-glassful of boiling water.
Set the liquor on fire, and pass the blazing liquor
into another mug, also well heated. Pass to and
fro, and serve in a tumbler, with a lump of sugar
and a little thin lemon peel. Be very particular not
to drop any of the blazer on the cat, or the hearth-
rug, or the youngest child. This drink would, T
should think, have satisfied the aspirations of Mr.
Daniel Quilp.
One of the most wholesome of all "re-
freshers," is a simple liquor, distilled from black-
currants, and known to our lively neighbours
as
-"
44 CAKES AND ALE
Cassis.
This syrup can be obtained in the humblest
cabaret in France ; but we have to thank the
eccentric and illogical ways of our Customs
Department for its absence from most of our own
wine lists. The duty is so prohibitive being
half as much again as that levied on French
brandy that it would pay nobody but said
Customs Department to import it into England ;
and yet the amount of alcohol contained in cassis
is infinitesimal. Strange to say nobody has ever
started a cassis still on this side. One would
imagine that the process would be simplicity
itself; as the liquor is nothing but cold black-
currant tea, with a suspicion of alcohol in it.
Sligo Slop.
This is an Irish delight. The juice of ten
lemons, strained, ten table-spoonfuls of sifted sugar,
one quart of John Jameson's oldest and best whisky,
and two port wine-glassfuls of cura^oa, all mixed to-
gether. Let the mixture stand for a day or two,
and then bottle. This should be drunk neat, in
liqueur -glasses, and is said to be most effectual
"jumping-powder." It certainly reads conducive to
timber-topping.
Take it altogether the daylight drink is a
mistake. It is simply ruin to appetite ; it is
more expensive than those who indulge therein
are aware of at the time. It ruins the nerves,
sooner or later ; it is not conducive to business,
unless for those whose heads are especially hard ;
and it spoils the palate for the good wine which
THE DAYLIGHT DRINK 245
is poured forth later on. The precept cannot be
too widely laid down, too fully known :
Do not drink between Meals !
Better, far better the three-bottle-trick of our
ancestors, than the " gin-crawl " of to-day.
CHAPTER XXI
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA
" Let me not burst in ignorance. "
" A chiel's amang ye, taking notes."
Thomas Carlyle Thackeray Harrison Ains worth Sir Walter
Scott Miss Braddon Marie Corelli F. C. Philips Black-
more Charles Dickens Pickivick reeking with alcohol
Brandy and oysters Little Dorrit Great Expectations
Micawber as a punch-maker David Copperfield " Prac-
ticable " food on the stage " Johnny " Toole's story of Tiny
Tim and the goose.
CONSIDERING the number of books which have
been published during the nineteenth century, it is
astonishing how few of them deal with eating
and drinking. We read of a banquet or two,
certainly, in the works of the divine William,
but no particulars as to the cuisine are entered
into, " Cold Banquo " hardly sounds appetising.
Thomas Carlyle was a notorious dyspeptic, so it
is no cause for wonderment that he did not
bequeath to posterity the recipes for a dainty
dish or two, or a good Derby Day " Cup."
Thackeray understood but little about cookery,
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 247
nor was Whyte Melville much better versed in
the mysteries of the kitchen. Harrison Ains-
worth touched lightly on gastronomy occa-
sionally, whilst Charles Lamb, Sydney Smith,
and others (blessings light on the man who in-
vented the phrase "and others") delighted
therein. Miss Braddon has slurred it over
hitherto, and Marie Corelli scorns all mention
of any refreshment but absinthe a weird liquid
which is altogether absent from these pages. In
the lighter novels of Mr. F. C. Philips, there is
but little mention of solid food except devilled
caviare, which s6unds nasty ; but most of Mr.
Philips's men, and all his women, drink to excess
principally champagne, brandy, and green char-
treuse. And one of his heroines is a firm
believer in the merits of cognac as a " settler " of
champagne.
According to Mr. R. D. Blackmore, the natives
of Exmoor did themselves particularly well, in the
seventeenth century. In that most delightful
romance Lorna Doone is a description of a meal
set before Tom Faggus, the celebrated highway-
man, by the Ridd family, at Plover's Barrows :
11 A few oysters first, and then dried salmon, and
then ham and eggs, done in small curled rashers,
and then a few collops of venison toasted, and next
a little cold roast pig, and a woodcock on toast to
finish with."
This meal was washed down with home-
brewed ale, followed by Schiedam and hot water.
One man, and one man alone, who has left
his name printed deep on the sands of time
as a writer, thoroughly revelled in the mighty
248 CAKES AND ALE
subjects of eating and drinking. Need his name
be mentioned ? What is, after all, the great
secret of the popularity of
Charles Dickens
as a novelist ? His broad, generous views on the
subject of meals, as expressed through the
mouths of most of the characters in his works ;
as also the homely nature of such meals, and
the good and great deeds to which they led.
I once laid myself out to count the number of
times that alcoholic refreshment is mentioned
in some of the principal works of the great
author ; and the record, for Pickwick alone, was
sufficient to sweep from the surface of the earth,
with its fiery breath, the entire Blue Ribbon
Army. Mr. Pickwick was what would be
called nowadays a " moderate drinker." That is
to say, he seldom neglected an "excuse for a
lotion," nor did he despise the " daylight drink."
But we only read of his being overcome by his
potations on two occasions ; after the cricket
dinner at Muggleton, and after the shooting
luncheon on Captain Boldwig's ground. And
upon the latter occasion I am convinced that the
hot sun had far more to do with his temporary
obfuscation than the cold punch. Bob Sawyer
and Ben Allen were by no means exaggerated
types of the medical students of the time. The
" deputy sawbones " of to-day writes pamphlets,
drinks coffee, and pays his landlady every
Saturday. And it was a happy touch of Dickens
to make Sawyer and Allen eat oysters, and wash
them down with neat brandy, before breakfast.
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 149
I have known medical students, aye ! and full-
blown surgeons too, who would commit equally
daring acts ; although I doubt much if they
would have shone at the breakfast-table after-
wards, or on the ice later in the day. For the
effect exercised by brandy on oysters is pretty
well known to science.
Breathes there a man with soul so dead as not
to appreciate the delights of Dingley Dell ? Free
trade and other horrors have combined to crush
the British yeoman of to-day ; but we none the
less delight to read of him as he was, and I do
not know a better cure for an attack of "blue
devils " or should it be " black dog ? " than a
good dose of Dingley Dell. The wholesale
manner in which Mr. Wardle takes possession
of the Pickwickians only one of whom he
knows intimately for purposes of entertain-
ment, is especially delightful, and worthy of
imitation ; and I can only regret the absence
of a good, cunningly - mixed "cup" at the
picnic after the Chatham review. The wine
drunk at this picnic would seem to have been
sherry ; as there was not such a glut of " the
sparkling" in those good old times. And the
prompt way in which " Emma" is commanded
to " bring out the cherry brandy," before his
guests have been two minutes in the house,
bespeaks the character of dear old Wardle in
once. " The Leathern Bottle," a charming old-
world hostelry in that picturesque country lying
between Rochester and Cobham, would hardly
have been in existence now, let alone doing a
roaring trade, but for the publication of Pick-
Z50 CAKES AND ALE
wick; and the notion of the obese Tupman
solacing himself for blighted hopes and taking
his leave of the world on a diet of roast fowl
bacon, ale, etc., is unique. The bill-of-fare at
the aforementioned shooting luncheon might
not, perhaps, satisfy the aspirations of Sir Mota
Kerr, or some other nouveau riche of to-day, but
there was plenty to eat and drink. Here is the
list, in Mr. Samuel Weller's own words :
" Weal pie, tongue : a wery good thing when
it ain't a woman's : bread, knuckle o' ham, reg'lar
picter, cold beef in slices ; wery good. What's
in them stone jars, young touch-and-go ? "
" Beer in this one," replied the boy, taking
from his shoulder a couple of large stone bottles,
fastened together by a leathern strap, "cold punch
in t'other."
"And a wery good notion of a lunch it is,
take it altogether," said Mr. Weller.
Possibly ; though cold beef in slices would be
apt to get rather dryer than was desirable on a
warm day. And milk punch hardly seems the
sort of tipple to encourage accuracy of aim.
Mrs. Bardell's notion of a nice little supper
we gather from the same immortal work, was "a
couple of sets of pettitoes and some toasted cheese."
The pettitoes were presumably simmered in milk,
and the cheese was, undoubtedly, " browning away
most delightfully in a little Dutch oven in front of
the fire." Most of us will smack our lips after this
description ; though details are lacking as to the
contents of the " bkck bottle " which was pro-
duced from "a small closet." But amongst students
of Pickwick^ " Old Tom " is a hot favourite.
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 251
The Deputy Shepherd's particular "vanity"
appears to have been buttered toast and reeking
hot pine-apple rum and water, which sounds like
swimming -in -the -head ; and going straight
through the book, we next pause at the de-
scription of the supper given by the medical
students, at their lodgings in the Borough, to
the Pickwickians.
" The man to whom the order for the oysters
had been sent had not been told to open them ;
it is a very difficult thing to open an oyster with
a limp knife or a two-pronged fork ; and very
little was done in this way. Very little of the
beef was done either; and the ham (which was
from the German-sausage shop round the corner)
was in a similar predicament. However, there
was plenty of porter in a tin can ; and the cheese
went a great way, for it was very strong."
Probably the oysters had not been paid for in
advance, and the man imagined that they would
be returned upon his hands none the worse. For
at that time as has been remarked before, in
this volume on gastronomy the knowledge that
an oyster baked in his own shells, in the middle
of a clear fire, is an appetising dish, does not
appear to have been universal.
It is questionable if a supper consisting of a
boiled leg of mutton "with the usual trimmings"
would have satisfied the taste of the " gentleman's
gentleman " of to-day, who is a hypercritic, if
anything ; but let that supper be taken as read.
Also let it be noted that the appetite of the
redoubtable Pickwick never seems to have failed
him, even in the sponging-house five to one
as* CAKES AND ALE
can be betted that those chops were fried or in
the Fleet Prison itself. And mention of thrs
establishment recalls the extravagant folly of Job
Trotter (who of all men ought to have known
better) in purchasing "a small piece of raw loin
of mutton " for the refection of himself and ruined
master j when for the same money he could surely
have obtained a sufficiency of bullock's cheek or
liver, potatoes, and onions, to provide dinner for
three days. Vide the " Kent Road Cookery," in
one of my earlier chapters. The description of
the journeys from Bristol to Birmingham, and
back to London, absolutely reeks with food and
alcohol j and it has always smacked of the mys-
terious to myself how Sam Weller, a pure Cock-
ney, could have known so much of the capacities
of the various hostelries on the road. Evidently
his knowledge of other places besides London was
cc peculiar." Last scene of all in Pickwick requir-
ing mention here, is the refection given to Mr.
Solomon Pell in honour of the proving of the
late Dame Weller's last will and testament.
" Porter, cold beef, and oysters," were some of the
incidents of that meal, and we read that " the
coachman with the hoarse voice took an imperial
pint of vinegar with his oysters, without betray-
ing the least emotion."
It is also set down that brandy and water, as
usual in this history, followed the oysters ; but
we are not told if any of those coachmen ever
handled the ribbons again, or if Mr. Solomon
Pell spent his declining days in the infirmary.
In fact, there are not many chapters in Charles
Dickens' works in which the knife and fork do
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 253
not play prominent parts. The food is, for the
most part, simple and homely ; the seed sown in
England by the fairy Ala had hardly begun
to germinate at the time the novels were written.
Still there is, naturally, a suspicion of Ala at the
very commencement of Little Dorrit^ the scene
being laid in the Marseilles prison, where Monsieur
Rigaud feasts off Lyons sausage, veal in savoury
jelly, white bread, strachino cheese, and good
claret, the while his humble companion, Signor
John Baptist, has to content himself with stale
bread, through reverses at gambling with his
fellow prisoner. After that, there is no mention
of a " square meal " until we get to Mr. Casby's,
the " Patriarch." " Everything about the patri-
archal household," we are told, " promoted quiet
digestion " j and the dinner mentioned began
with " some soup, some fried soles, a butter-boat
of shrimp sauce, and a dish of potatoes." Rare
old Casby ! " Mutton, a steak, and an apple
pie" and presumably cheese furnished the
more solid portion of the banquet, which appears
to have been washed down with porter and sherry
wine, and enlivened by the inconsequent remarks
of "Mr. F.'s Aunt."
In Great Expectations occurs the celebrated
banquet at the Chateau Gargery on Christmas
Day, consisting of a leg of pickled pork and
greens, a pair of roast stuffed fowls, a handsome
mince pie, and a plum-pudding. The absence
of the savoury pork -pie, and the presence of
tar- water in the brandy are incidents at that
banquet familiar enough to Sir Frank Lockwood,
Q.C., M.P., and other close students of Dickens,
254 CAKES AND ALE
whose favourite dinner-dish would appear to have
been a fowl, stuffed or otherwise, roast or boiled.
In Oliver Twist we get casual mention of
oysters, sheep's heads, and a rabbit pie, with
plenty of alcohol ; but the bill of fare, on the
whole, is not an appetising one. The meat and
drink at the Maypole Hotel, in Barnaby Rudge^
would appear to have been deservedly popular ;
and the description of Gabriel Varden's breakfast
is calculated to bring water to the most callous
mouth :
"Over and above the ordinary tea equipage
the board creaked beneath the weight of a jolly
round of beef, a ham of the first magnitude, and
sundry towers of buttered Yorkshire cake, piled
slice upon slice in most alluring order. There
was also a goodly jug of well- browned clay,
fashioned into the form of an old gentleman not
by any means unlike the locksmith, atop of whose
bald head was a fine white froth answering to his
wig, indicative, beyond dispute, of sparkling home
brewed ale. But better than fair home-brewed,
or Yorkshire cake, or ham, or beef, or anything to
eat or drink that earth or air or water can supply,
there sat, presiding over all, the locksmith's rosy
daughter, before whose dark eyes even beef grew
insignificant, and malt became as nothing."
Ah-h-h !
There is not much eating in A Tale of Two
Cities; but an intolerable amount of assorted
"sack." In Sketches by Boz we learn that
Dickens had no great opinion of public dinners,
and that oysters were, at that period, occasionally
opened by the fair sex. There is a nice flavour
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 255
of fowl and old Madeira about Dombey and Son^
and the description of the dinner at Doctor
Blimber's establishment for young gentlemen is
worth requoting :
"There was some nice soup ; also roast meat,
boiled meat, vegetables, pie, and cheese." [Cheese
at a small boys' school !] " Every young gentle-
man had a massive silver fork and a napkin ; and
all the arrangements were stately and handsome.
In particular there was a butler in a blue coat and
bright buttons" [surely this was a footman?]
"who gave quite a winey flavour to the table
beer, he poured it out so superbly."
Dinner at Mrs. Jellyby's in Bleak House is
one of the funniest and most delightful incidents
in the book, especially the attendance. "The
young woman with the flannel bandage waited^
and dropped everything on the table wherever it
happened to go, and never moved it again until
she put it on the stairs. Tne person I had seen
in pattens (who I suppose to have been the cook)
frequently came and skirmished with her at the
door, and there appeared to be ill-will between
them." The dinner given by Mr. Guppy at
the " Slap Bang " dining house is another feature
of this book veal and ham, and French beans,
summer cabbage, pots of half-and-half, marrow
puddings, "three Cheshires " and "three small
rums." Of the items in this list, the marrow
pudding seems to be as extinct in London, at all
events as the dodo. It appears to be a mixture
of bread, pounded almonds, cream, eggs, lemon
peel, sugar, nutmeg, and marrow ; and sounds
nice.
256 CAKES AND ALE
David Copperfield's dinner in his Buck-
ingham Street chambers was an event with a
disastrous termination. "It was a remarkable
want of forethought on the part of the ironmonger
who had made Mrs. Crupp's kitchen fireplace,
that it was capable of cooking nothing but chops
and mashed potatoes. As to a fish-kettle, Mrs.
Crupp said ' Well ! would I only come and look
at the range ? She couldn't say fairer than that.
Would I come and look at it ? ' As I should not
have been much the wiser if I had looked at it
I said never mind fish. But Mrs. Crupp said,
' Don't say that ; oysters was in, and why not
them ? ' So that was settled. Mrs. Crupp then
said c What she would recommend would be this.
A pair of hot roast fowls from the pastry cook's ;
a dish of stewed beef, with vegetables from the
pastry cook's ; two little corner things, as a raised
pie and a dish of kidneys from the pastry cook's ;
a tart, and (if I liked) a shape of jelly from the
pastry cook's. This,' Mrs. Crupp said, 'would
leave her at full liberty to concentrate her mind
on the potatoes, and to serve up the cheese and
celery as she could wish to see it done.' "
Then blessings on thee, Micawber, most
charming of characters in fiction, mightiest of
punch-brewers ! The only fault I have to find
with the novel of David Copperfield is that we
don't get enough of Micawber. The same
fault, however, could hardly be said to lie in the
play; for if ever there was a "fat" part, it is
Wilkins Micawber.
Martin Chuzzlewit bubbles over with eating
and drinking ; and " Todgers " has become as
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 157
proverbial as Hamlet. In Nicholas Nickleby, too,
we find plenty of mention of solids and liquids ;
and as a poor stroller myself at one time, it
has always struck me that " business " could not
have been so very bad, after all, in the Crummies
Combination ; for the manager, at all events,
seems to have fared particularly well. Last on
the list comes The Old Curiosity Shop, with the
celebrated stew at the "Jolly Sandboys," the
ingredients in which have already been quoted by
the present writer. With regard to this stew
all that I have to remark is that I should have
substituted an ox-kidney for the tripe, and left
out the " sparrowgrass," the flavour of which
would be quite lost in the crowd of ingredients.
But there ! who can cavil at such a feast ?
"Fetch me a pint of warm ale, and don't let
nobody bring into the room even so much as a
biscuit till the time arrives."
Codlin may not have been "the friend" ; but he
was certainly the judge of the " Punch " party.
In this realistic age, meals on the stage have to
be provided from high-class hotels or restaurants ;
and this is, probably, the chief reason why there
is so little eating and drinking introduced into
the modern drama. Gone are the nights of
the banquet of pasteboard poultry, "property"
pine-apples, and gilded flagons containing nothing
more sustaining than the atmosphere of coal-gas.
Not much faith is placed in the comic scenes of
a pantomime nowadays ; or it is probable that
the clown would purloin real York hams, and
stuff Wall's sausages into the pockets of his
ample pants. Champagne is champagne under
258 CAKES AND ALE
the present regime of raised prices, raised salaries,
raised everything ; and it is not so long since 1
overheard an actor-manager chide a waiter from
a fashionable restaurant, for forgetting the
Soublse sauce, when he brought the cutlets.
In my acting days we usually had canvas
fowls, stuffed with sawdust, when we revelled
on the stage ; or, if business had been particularly
good, the poultry was made from breakfast rolls,
with pieces skewered on, to represent the limbs.
And the potables Gadzooks ! What horrible
concoctions have found their way down this
unsuspecting throttle ! Sherry was invariably re-
presented by cold tea, which is palatable enough
if home-made, under careful superintendence,
but, drawn in the property-master's den, usually
tasted of glue. Ginger beer, at three-farthings
for two bottles, poured into tumblers containing
portions of a seidlitz-powder, always did duty
for champagne j and as for port or claret well,
I quite thought I had swallowed the deadliest of
poisons one night, until assured it was only the
cold leavings of the stage-door-keeper's coffee !
The story of Tiny Tim who ate the goose
is a pretty ifamiliar one in stage circles. When
playing Bob Cratchit, in The Christmas Carol at
the Adelphi, under Mr. Benjamin Webster's
management, Mr. J. L. Toole had to carve a real
goose and a " practicable " plum-pudding during
the run of that piece, forty nights. And the
little girl who played Tiny Tim used to finish
her portions of goose and pudding with such
amazing celerity that Mr. Toole became quite
alarmed on her account.
GASTRONOMY IN FICTION AND DRAMA 259
" ' I don't like it,' I said," writes dear friend
"Johnny," in his Reminiscences-, " C I can't
conceive where a poor, delicate little thing like
that puts the food. Besides, although I like the
children to enjoy a treat ' and how they kept
on enjoying it for forty nights was a mystery,
for I got into such a condition that if I dined
at a friend's house, and goose was on the table,
I regarded it as a personal affront I said, re-
ferring to Tiny Tim, c I don't like greediness ;
and it is additionally repulsive in a refined-
looking, delicate little thing like this ; besides,
it destroys the sentiment of the situation and
when I, as Bob, ought to feel most pathetic, I
am always wondering where the goose and the
pudding are, or whether anything serious in the
way of a fit will happen to Tiny Tim before
the audience, in consequence of her unnatural
gorging ! ' Mrs. Mellon laughed at me at first,
but eventually we decided to watch Tiny Tim
together.
"We watched as well as we could, and the
moment Tiny Tim was seated, and began to
eat, we observed a curious shuffling movement
at the stage-fireplace, and everything that I had
given her, goose and potatoes, and apple-sauce
disappeared behind the sham stove, the child
pretending to eat as heartily as ever from the
empty plate. When the performance was over,
Mrs. Mellon and myself asked the little girl
what became of the food she did not eat, and,
after a little hesitation, she confessed that her
little sister (I should mention that they were
the children of one of the scene-shifters) waited
160 CAKES AND ALE
on the other side of the fireplace for the supplies,
and then the whole family enjoyed a hearty
supper every night.
" Dickens was very much interested in the
incident. When I had finished, he smiled a
little sadly, I thought, and then, shaking me by
the hand, he said, ' Ah ! you ought to have given
her the whole goose.' "
CHAPTER XXII
RESTORATIVES
" Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some antibilious antidote
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the soul."
William of Normandy A " head " wind at sea Beware the
druggist Pick-me-ups of all sorts and conditions Anchovy
toast for the invalid A small bottle Straight talks to
fanatics Total abstinence as bad as the other thing
Moderation in all things wisely and slow Carpe diem
But have a thought for the morrow.
"I CARE not," observed William of Normandy
to his quartermaster -general, on the morning
after the revelry which followed the Battle of
Hastings, " who makes these barbarians' wines ;
send me the man who can remove the beehive
from my overwrought brain."
This remark is not to be found in Macaulay's
History of England ; but learned authorities who
have read the original MS. in Early Norman,
make no doubt as to the correct translation.
" It is excellent," as the poet says, " to have
a giant's thirst j but it is tyrannous to use it
262 CAKES AND ALE
like a giant." And not only " tyrannous " but
short-sighted. For the law of compensation is
one of the first edicts of Nature. The same
beneficent hand which provides the simple fruits
of the earth for the delectation of man, furnishes
also the slug and the wasp, to see that he doesn't
get too much. Our friend the dog is deprived
of the power of articulation, but he has a tail
which can be wagged at the speed of 600 revolu-
tions to the minute. And the man who overtaxes
the powers of his inner mechanism during the
hours of darkness is certain to feel the effects, to
be smitten of conscience, and troubled of brain,
when he awakes, a few hours later on. As this
is not a medical treatise it would be out of place
to analyse at length the abominable habit which
the human brain and stomach have acquired, of
acting and reacting on each other ; suffice it to
say that there is no surer sign of the weakness
and helplessness of poor, frail, sinful, fallen
humanity than the obstinacy with which so
many of us will, for the sake of an hour or two's
revelry, boldly bid for five times the amount of
misery and remorse. And this more especially
applies to a life on the ocean wave. The
midshipmite who over-estimates his swallowing
capacity is no longer " mast - headed " next
morning ; but the writer has experienced a
cyclone in the Bay of Bengal, ere the effects of
a birthday party on the previous night had been
surmounted ; and the effects of " mast-heading "
could hardly have been less desirable. In that
most delightful work for the young, Dana's Two
years before the Mast, we read :
RESTORATIVES 263
" Our forecastle, as usual after a liberty-day, was
a scene of tumult all night long, from the drunken
ones. They had just got to sleep toward morn-
ing, when they were turned up with the rest,
and kept at work all day in the water, carrying
hides, their heads aching so that they could
hardly stand. This is sailors' pleasure."
Dana himself was ordered up aloft, to reef
" torpsles," on his first morning at sea ; and he
had probably had some sort of a farewell carouse,
'ere quitting Boston. And the present writer
upon one occasion such is the irony of fate
was told off to indite a leading article on " Tem-
perance " for an evening journal, within a very few
hours of the termination of a " Derby " banquet.
But hpw shall we alleviate the pangs ? How
make that dreadful " day after " endurable enough
to cause us to offer up thanks for being still allowed
to live ? Come, the panacea, good doctor !
First of all, then, avoid the chemist and his
works. I mean no disrespect to my good friend
Sainsbury, or his "Number One rick-me-up,"
whose corpse-reviving claims are indisputable ;
but at the same time the habitual swallower of
drugs does not lead the happiest life. I once
knew a young subaltern who had an account
presented to him by the cashier of the firm of
Peake and Allen, of the great continent of India,
for nearly 300 rupees ; and the items in said account
were entirely chloric ether, extract of cardamoms
with the other component parts of a high-class
restorative, and interest. Saddening ! The next
thing to avoid, the first thing in the morning,
is soda-water, whether diluted with brandy or
264 CAKES AND ALE
whisky. The " peg " may be all very well as
an occasional potation, but, believe one who has
tried most compounds, 'tis a precious poor
" livener." On the contrary, although a beaker
of the straw-coloured (or occasionally, mahogany-
coloured) fluid may seem to steady the nerves for
the time being, that effect is by no means lasting.
But the same panacea will not do in every
case. If the patient be sufficiently convalescent
to digest a
Doctor
(I do not mean a M.R.C.S.) his state must be far
from hopeless. A c< Doctor " is a mixture of
beaten raw egg not forgetting the white, which
is of even more value than the yolk to the
invalid brandy, a little sifted sugar, and new
milk. But many devotees of Bacchus could as
soon swallow rum-and-oysters, in bed. And do
not let us blame Bacchus unduly for the matutinal
trouble. The fairy Ala has probably had a
lot to do with that trouble. A "Doctor" can
be made with sherry or whisky, instead of brandy ;
and many stockbrokers' clerks, sporting journal-
ists, and other millionaires prefer a
Surgeon-Major^
who appears in the form of a large tumbler con-
taining a couple of eggs beaten, and filled to the
brim with the wine of the champagne district.
A Scorcher
is made with the juice of half a lemon squeezed
into a large wine-glass ; add a liqueur-glassful of
RESTORATIVES *6 5
old brandy, or Hollands, and a dust of cayenne.
Mix well, and do not allow any lemon-pips to
remain in the glass.
Prairie Oyster.
This is an American importation. There is
a legend to the effect that one of a hunting party
fell sick unto death, on the boundless prairie of
Texas, and clamoured for oysters. Now the
close and cautious bivalve no more thrives in a
blue grass country than he possesses the ability
to walk up stairs, or make a starting-price book.
So one of the party, an inventive genius, cudgelled
his brains for a substitute. He found some
prairie hen's eggs, and administered the unbroken
yolks thereof, one at a time, in a wine-glass con-
taining a tea-spoonful of vinegar. He shook the
pepper-castor over the yolks and added a pinch
of salt. The patient recovered. The march of
science has improved on this recipe. Instead of
despoiling the prarie hen, the epicure now looks
to Madame Gobble for a turkey egg. And a
Worcester Oyster
is turned out ready made, by simply substituting
a tea-spoonful of Lea and Perrins' most excellent
sauce for vinegar.
Brazil Relish.
This is, I am assured, a much-admired restorative
in Brazil, and the regions bordering on the River
Plate. It does not sound exactly the sort of
stimulant to take after a "bump supper," or a
" Kaffir " entertainment, but here it is : Into a
266 CAKES AND ALE
wine-glass half full of curacoa pop the unbroken
yolk of a bantam's egg. Fill the glass up with
maraschino. According to my notion, a good
cup of hot, strong tea would be equally effectual,
as an emetic, and withal cheaper. But they
certainly take the mixture as a pick-me-up in
Brazil.
Port-flip
is a favourite stimulant with our American
cousins. Beat up an egg in a tumbler if you
have no metal vessels to shake it in, the shortest
way is to put a clean white card, or a saucer, over
the mouth of the tumbler, and shake then add
a little sugar, a glass of port, and some pounded
ice. Strain before drinking. Leaving out the
ice and the straining, this is exactly the same
" refresher " which the friends of a criminal, who
had served his term of incarceration in one of
H.M. gaols, were in the habit of providing for
him ; and when the Cold Bath Fields Prison was
a going concern, there was a small hostelry hard
by, in which, on a Monday morning, the con-
sumption of port wine (fruity) and eggs ("shop
*uns," every one) was considerable. This on the
word of an ex-warder, who subsequently became
a stage-door keeper.
One of the most unsatisfactory effects of good
living is that the demon invoked over-night does
not always assume the same shape in your
waking hours. Many sufferers will feel a loath-
ing for any sort of food or drink, except cold
water. "The capting," observed the soldier-
servant to a visitor (this is an old story), "ain't
RESTORATIVES 267
very well this morning, sir ; he've just drunk his
bath, and gone to bed again." And on the other
hand, I have known the over-indulger absolutely
ravenous for his breakfast. " Brandy and soda,
no, dear old chappie ; as many eggs as they can
poach in five minutes, a thick rasher of York
ham, two muffins, and about a gallon and a half
of hot coffee that's what I feel like." Medical
men will be able to explain those symptoms in the
roysterer, who had probably eaten and drunk
quite as much over-night as the " capting." For
the roysterer with a shy appetite there are few
things more valuable than an
Anchovy Toast.
The concoction of this belongs to bedroom
cookery, unless the sitting-room adjoins the sleep-
ing apartment. For the patient will probably be
too faint of heart to wish to meet his fellow-men
and women downstairs, so early. The mixture
must be made over hot water. Nearly fill a slop-
basin with the boiling element, and place a soup-
plate over it. In the plate melt a pat of butter
the size of a walnut. Then having beaten up a
raw egg, stir it in. When thoroughly incorpor-
ated with the butter add a dessert-spoonful of
essence of anchovies. Cayenne ad lib. Then
let delicately-browned crisp toast be brought, hot
from the fire. Soak this in the mixture, and
eat as quickly as you can. The above propor-
tions must be increased if more than one patient
clamours for anchovy toast ; and this recipe is of
no use for a dinner, or luncheon toast ; remember
that. After the meal is finished turn in between
268 CAKES AND ALE
the sheets again for an hour ; then order a
" Doctor," or a " Surgeon-Major " to be brought
to the bedside. In another twenty minutes the
patient will be ready for his tub (with the chill
off, if he be past thirty, and has any wisdom, or
liver, left within him). After dressing, if he live
in London and there be any trace of brain-rack
remaining, let him take a brisk walk to his hair-
dresser's, having his boots cleaned en route. This
is most important, whether they be clean or dirty ;
for the action of a pair of briskly-directed brushes
over the feet will often remove the most distress-
ing of headaches. Arrived at the perruquier's, let
the patient direct him to rub eau de Cologne^ or
some other perfumed spirit, into the o'er-taxed
cranium, and to squirt assorted essences over the
distorted countenance. A good hard brush, and
a dab of bay rum on the temples will complete
the cure ; the roysterer will then be ready to face
his employer, or the maiden aunt from whom he
may have expectations.
If the flavour of the anchovy be disagreeable,
let the patient try the following toast, which is
similar to that used with wildfowl : Melt a pat
of butter over hot water, stir in a dessert-spoonful
of Worcester sauce, the same quantity of orange
juice, a pinch of cayenne, and about half a wine-
glassful of old port. Soak the toast in this mixture.
The virtues of old port as a restorative cannot be
too widely known.
St. Mark's Pick-me-up.
The following recipe was given to the writer
by a member of an old Venetian family.
RESTORATIVES 269
Ten drops of angostura in a liqueur -glass,
filled up with orange bitters. One wine-glassful
of old brandy, one ditto cold water, one liqueur-
glassful of curacoa, and the juice of half a lemon.
Mix well together. I have not yet tried this,
which reads rather acid.
For an
Overtrained
athlete, who may not take kindly to his rations,
there is no better cure than the lean of an under-
done chop (not blue inside) hot from the fire, on a
hot plate, with a glass of port poured over. A
Hot-pickle Sandwich
should be made of two thin slices of crisp toast
(no butter) with chopped West Indian pickles in
between. And for a
Devilled Biscuit
select the plain cheese biscuit, heat in the oven,
and then spread over it a paste composed of finely-
pounded lobster worked up with butter, made
mustard, ground ginger, cayenne, salt, chili
vinegar, and (if liked) a little curry powder.
Reheat the biscuit for a minute or two, and
then deal with it. Both the last-named restora-
tives will be found valuable (?) liver tonics ; and
to save future worry the patient had better
calculate, at the same time, the amount of Estate
Duty which will have to be paid out of his
personalty, and secure a nice dry corner, out of
the draught, for his place of sepulture. A
7Q CAKES AND ALE
Working-Man^ s Livener^
(and by "working-man" the gentleman whose
work consists principally in debating in taverns is
intended) is usually a hair of the dog that bit
him over- night ; and in some instances where
doubt may exist as to the particular " tufter " of
the pack which found the working-man out,
the livener will be a miscellaneous one. For
solid food, this brand of labourer will usually
select an uncooked red -herring, which he will
divide into swallow-portions with his clasp-knife,
after borrowing the pepper-castor from the tavern
counter. And as new rum mixed with four-
penny ale occasionally enters into the over-night's
programme of the horny-handed one, he is
frequently very thirsty indeed before the hour of
noon.
I have seen a journalist suck half a lemon,
previously well besprinkled with cayenne, prior to
commencing his matutinal "scratch." But rum
and milk form, I believe, the favourite livener
throughout the district which lies between the
Adelphi Theatre and St. Paul's Cathedral. And,
according to Doctor Edward Smith (the chief
English authority on dietetics), rum and milk
form the most powerful restorative known to
science. With all due respect to Doctor Smith
I am prepared to back another restorative, com-
monly known as " a small bottle " ; which means
a pint of champagne. I have prescribed this
many a time, and seldom known it fail. In case
of partial failure repeat the dose. A valuable if
seldom-employed restorative is made with
RESTORATIVES * 7
Bovril
as one of the ingredients. Make half-a-pint of
beef-tea in a tumbler with this extract. Put the
tumbler in a refrigerator for an hour, then add a
liqueur-glassful of old brandy, with just a dust of
cayenne. This is one of the very best pick-me-
ups known to the faculty. A
Swizzle^
for recuperative purposes is made with the follow-
ing ingredients : a wine-glassful of Hollands, a
liqueur-glassful of curacoa, three drops of angos-
tura bitters, a little sugar, and half a small bottle
of seltzer-water. Churn up the mixture with a
swizzle-stick, which can be easily made with the
assistance of a short length of cane (the ordinary
school-treat brand) a piece of cork, a bit of string,
and a pocket knife.
A very extraordinary pick-me-up is mentioned
by Mr. F. C. Philips, in one of his novels, and
consists of equal parts of brandy and chili vinegar
in a large wine-glass. Such a mixture would, in
all probability, corrode sheet-iron. I am afraid
that writers of romance occasionally borrow a
little from imagination.
The most effectual restorative for the total
abstainer is unquestionably, old brandy. It
should be remembered that a rich, heavy dinner
is not bound to digest within the human frame,
if washed down with tea, or aerated beverages.
In fact, from the personal appearances of many
worthy teetotallers I have known digestion can-
not be their strong suit. Then many abstainers
2 7 2 CAKES AND ALE
only abstain in public, for the sake of example.
And within the locked cupboard of the study
lurks a certain black bottle, which does not
contain Kopps's ale. Therefore I repeat that
the most effectual restorative for the total abstainer
whether as a direct change, or as a hair of the
dog is brandy.
Our ancestors cooled their coppers with small
ale, and enjoyed a subsequent sluice at the pump in
the yard ; these methods are still pursued by stable-
helpers and such like. A good walk acts benefi-
cially sometimes. Eat or drink nothing at all,
but try and do five miles along the turnpike road
within the hour. Many habitual roysterers hunt
the next morning, with heads opening and shut-
ting alternately, until the fox breaks covert, when
misery of all sorts at once takes to itself wings.
And I have heard a gallant warrior, whilst engaged
in a Polo match on York Knavesmire, protest that
he could distinctly see two Polo balls. But he
was not in such bad case as the eminent jockey
who declined to ride a horse in a hood and
blinkers, because "one of us must see, and I'm
hanged if / can ! " It was the same jockey who,
upon being remonstrated with for taking up his
whip at the final bend, when his horse was
winning easily, replied : " whip be bio wed ! it
was my balance pole : I should have fell off with-
out it I "
Straight Talks.
In the lowest depth there is a lower depth,
which not only threatens to devour, but which
will infallibly devour the too-persistent roysterer.
RESTORATIVES 173
For such I labour not. The seer of visions, the
would-be strangler of serpents, the baffled rat-
hunter, and other victims to the over-estimation
of human capacity will get no assistance, beyond
infinite pity, from the mind which guides this
pen. The dog will return to his own vomit ; the
wilful abuser of the goods sent by a bountiful
Providence is past praying for. But to others
who are on the point of crossing the Rubicon of
good discretion I would urge that there will
assuredly come a time when the pick-me-up
will lose its virtue, and will fail to chase the
sorrow from the brow, to minister to the dis-
eased mind. Throughout this book I have
endeavoured to preach the doctrine of moderation
in enjoyment. Meat and drink are, like fire,
very good servants, but the most oppressive and
exacting of slave-drivers. Therefore enjoy the
sweets of life, whilst ye can j but as civilised
beings, as gentlemen, and not as swine. For
here is a motto which applies to eating and
drinking even more than to other privileges
which we enjoy :
"Wisely, and slow ;
They stumble who run fast ! "
A resort to extremes is always to be deprecated,
and many sensible men hold the total abstainer
in contempt, unless he abstain simply and solely
because a moderate use of " beer an(/ baccy "
makes him ill ; and this man is indeed a rarity.
The teetotaller is either a creature with no will-
power in his composition, a Pharisee, who thanks
Providence that he is not as other men, or a
Z74 CAKES AND ALE
lunatic. There can be no special virtue in
"swearing off" good food and good liquor ;
whether for the sake of example, or for the sake
of ascending a special pinnacle and posing to
the world as the incarnation of perfection and
holiness. In the parable, the Publican was
"justified" rather than the Pharisee, because the
former had the more common sense, and knew
that if he set up as immaculate and without
guile he was deceiving himself and nobody else.
But here on earth, in the nineteenth century,
the Publican stands a very poor chance with the
Pharisee, whether the last-named assume the
garb of "Social Purity," or "Vigilance," or the
sombre raiment of the policeman. This is not
right. This is altogether wrong. The total
abstainer, the rabid jackass who denies himself
or claims that he does so the juice of the grape,
and drinks the horrible, flatulent, concoctions
known as "temperance beverages," is just as
great a sinner against common sense as that
rabid jackass the habitual glutton, or drunkard,
who, in abusing the good things of life the
gifts which are given us to enjoy is putting
together a rod of rattlesnakes for his own back.
There is nothing picturesque about drunken-
ness ; and there is still less of manliness therein.
There is plenty of excuse for the careless, happy-
go-lucky, casual over-estimater, who revels, on
festive occasions, with his boon companions.
'Tis a poor heart that never rejoices ; and
wedding-feasts, celebrations of famous victories,
birthday parties, and Christmas festivities have
been, and will continue to be, held by high and
RESTORATIVES 275
low, from the earliest times. But there is no
excuse, but only pity and disgust, for the sot
who sits and soaks or, worse still, stands and
soaks in the tavern day after day, and carries
the brandy-bottle to bed with him. I have lived
through two-thirds of the years allotted to man,
and have never yet met the man who has done
himself, or anybody else, any good by eating or
drinking to excess. Nor is the man who has
benefited himself, or society, through scorning
and vilifying good cheer, a familiar sight in our
midst. "Keep in the middle of the road," is
the rule to be observed j and there is no earthly
reason why the man who may have applied "hot
and rebellious liquors " to his blood, as a youth,
should not enjoy that " lusty winter " of old age,
" frosty but kindly," provided those warm and
warlike liquors have been applied in moderation.
I will conclude this sermon with part of a
verse of the poet Dryden's imitation of the
twenty-ninth Ode of Horace, though its heathen
carpe diem sentiments should be qualified by a
special caution as to the possible ill effects of
bidding too fierce a defiance to the " reaction
day."
'* Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own ;
He who, secure within, can say ;
To-morrow, do thy worst, I've liv'd to-day ! "
INDEX
"^/*," the fairy, 68
" Albion," the, 77
Alexander Dumas, 80
Allowable breakfast-dishes,
Almanack des Gourmands,
184
Anchovy toast, 267
Angel's pie, 55
Af>ha*i the, 129
Apricot brandy, 229
Artichoke, the, 130
Jerusalem, 131
Ascot luncheon, 54
Asparagus, 124
with eggs, 17
Aspic, 176
A thole brose, 241
BAKSHEESH, 100
Ball suppers, 175
Banquet, a vegetarian, 132
" Beano," a, 121
Beans, 119
" Borston," 120
Beef, " can't eat," 96
Bernardin salmi, a, 92
Birch's, 37
Bhchoff, 2 1 1
Biscuit, a devilled, 269
Bishop, 212
Bisque, 89
Bitters, 229
Blackmore, R. D., 247
Blue blazer, 243
Bombay duck, a, 146
Bones, grilled, 189
Bosom caresser, a, 239
Bouillabaisse, 88
Bovril, 271
Braddon, Miss, 247
Brandy, apricot, 229
cherry, 227
ginger, 230
orange, 230
sour, 243
Brazil relish, 265
Breakfast, allowable dishes at, 14
French, 27
Indian, 31
Mediterranean, 26
with "my tutor," 32
Brillat Savarin, 106
Brinjal, the, 131
Broth, Scotch, 52
Buckmaster, 77
Bull's milk, 240
' Burmah, food in, 203
i Burns, John, 234
: CABBAGE, the, 115
2 7 8
CAKES AND ALE
Calcutta jumble, 16
"Cannie Carle," 189
Canvass-back duck, a, 95
Carlton House Terrace, 91
Carlyle, Thomas, 246
Carrot, the, 121
Cassis, 244
Cauliflower, the, 115
Cedric the Saxon, 66
Celery, 129
sauce, 164
Champagne and stout, 225
Charles Dickens, 52, 248
Chateaubriand, a, 70
Chef, Indian, 135
" Cheshire Cheese," the, 39
pudding, 39
Chinaman's meal, a, 91
Chops, 50
Chota Ha-zri, 29
C';oufleur au gratin, n 6
Chowringhee Club, the, 135
Christmas dinner, a, 82
Chutnee, raw, 163
Chutnine, 163
Cinquevalli, Paul, 112
City dinners, 100
Clam chowder, 95
Cleopatra, 170
"Coal-hole," the, 187
Cobbler, champagne, 226
sherry, 226
Cocktail, Bengal, 236
brandy, 235
champagne, 236
gin, 237
Manhattan, 236
Milford, 236
Newport, 237
Saratoga, 237
whisky, 237
Yum Yum, 236
Cod liver, 102.
Coffee tree, the, 7
Cold mutton, 162
Collins, John, 218
Coloured help, 94
Corelli, Marie, 247
Cow, milking a, 205
Crecy soup, 122
Cremorne Gardens, 184
Cup, ale, 226
Ascot, 224
Balaclava, 223
Chablis, 222
champagne, 222
cider, 221
claret, 220
Crimean, 223
Moselle, 226
Curry, Benares, 134
dry Madras, 144
locust, 140
Malay, 140
Parsee, 136
powder, 139
Prawn, 143
rice for, 17, 145
what to, 142
when served, 141
Cyclone, a, 262
DANA, 263
Delmonico, 95
Devilled biscuit, a, 269
Dickens, Charles, 52, 248
Dingley Dell, 249
Dinner, afloat. 101
city, 100
Christmas, 82
an ideal, 101
Doctor, a, 264
Samuel Johnson, 71
Donald, 220
Duck, Bombay, 146
canvass-back, 95
jugged, with oysters, 46
Rouen, 87
-squeezer, 93
Dumas, Alexander, 80
INDEX
z 79
Dumpling, kidney, 190
Horatius Flaccus, 112
Horse-radish sauce, 164
EARLY Christians, 63
steaks, 191
Closing Act, 181
Hotch potch, 53
Eggs and bacon, 13
Hotel breakfasts, 17
Elizabeth, Queen, 66
"Parish," 21
Englishman in China, the, 92
Hot-pot, Lancashire, 42
Evans's, 181
Hunting luncheons, 48
FAIRY "^/*," the, 68
INDIAN breakfasts, 31
kiss, a, 240
Irish stew, 50
Fergus MacTvor, 67
Fin'an haddie, 23
AMES I., King, 64
Fixed bayonet, a, 91
apan, 92
Flash of lightning, a, 240
esuits, the, 93
Flip, ale-, 216
' ohnaon, Doctor, 71
egg-, 217
' ohn Collins, 218
-flap, 241
Jolly Sandboys," the, 51
Fowls, Surrey, 88
"Joseph," 83
Free trade, 8
ugged duck with oysters,
46
French soup, 97
umping powder, 230
Fricandeau, a, 104
KENT Road Cookery, the,
109
GARLIC, 128
Kidney dumpling, 190
Gin, sloe, 227
in fire-shovel, 188
Ginger brandy, 230
King James I., 64
Glasgow, the late Lord, 191
Kiss, a fairy, 240
Goats, sacrifice of, 198
Kitchener, Doctor, 139
Goose pie, 56
Knickerbein, a, 239
Gordon hotels, 71
Green, "Paddy," 182
LAMB, Charles, 146
Greenland, across, no
Lamb's head and mince, 186
Grilled bones, 189
Lampreys, 106
Grouse pie, 48
Lancashire hot-pot, 42
Gub bins sauce, 14
Large peach, a, 15
Larks, such, 46
HAGGIS, 63
Lightning, a flash of, 240
Halibut steak, a, 20
Li Hung Chang, 91
Happy Eliza, 242
Liver, cod's, 102
Hawkins, Sir John, 113
Lorna Doone, 247
Hawthornden, 84
Louis XII., 60
Help, coloured, 94
XIV., 60
Highland cordial, 229
Lucian, 119
Hollingshead, John, 181
Luncheon, Ascot, 54
Home Ruler, 227
race-course, 50
280
CAKES AND ALE
Luncheon, Simla, 58
MACAULAY, Lord, 261
Maa'ere, 94
Maiden's blush, 241
Majesty, Her, 107
Mandragora, 231
Marrow, vegetable, 130
Marsala, 94
Mayfair, 85
Mayonnaise, 153
Mediterranean breakfast, a, 26
Mess-table, the, 105
Miladi's boudoir, 190
Milk, bull's, 240
Mint julep, 242
Mirepoix, a, 89
Mutton, cold, 162
NANSEN'S banquet on the ice, 109
Napoleon the Great, 107
Nero, 62
New York City, 95
Nipping habit, the, 233
"No cheques accepted," 18
OFF to Gold-land, 25
"Old Coppertail," 197
Onion, the, 128
Orange brandy, 230
sauce, 161
Orgeat, 224
Out West, 96
Oven, the, 76
Overtrained, 269
Oysters, Aden, 172
in their own juice, 173
Kurachi, 171
prairie, 265
sauce, 137
scalloped, 173
stewed, 174
Worcester, 265
" PADDY" Green, 182
Parsnip, the, 129
Parlour cookery, 187
Payne, George, 82
Peake and Allen, 263
"Peg," a, 217
Pepper-pot, 195
Pease, 117
Pea soup, 118
Peter the Great, 106
Physician, an eminent, 108
Pick-me-up, "Number One,'
263
St. Mark's, 268
i Pickles, hot, 269
' Pie, angel's, 55
goose, 56
grouse, 48
pigeon, 55
pork, 49
Wardon, 5
woodcock, 47
Yorkshire, 49
Poor, how they live, 109
Pope, Doctor Joseph, 146
Possets, 242
Pork, roast, 45
Potato, the, n i
salad, 155
Port-flip, 266
Powder, jumping, 230
Pre sale, a, 90
Prison fare, no
"Property" food, 258
Pudding, Cheshire cheese, 39
plover, 46
rabbit, 45
snipe, 41
Pulled turkey, 94
Punch, 206
ale, 214
Barbadoes, 214
Cambridge, 210
Curagoa, 214
Grassot, 214
1 Glasgow, 213
INDEX
281
Punch, Halo, 212
milk, 208
Oxford, 210
Regent, 215
QUEEN ELIZABETH, 66
RABBIT pie, 45
Race-course luncheons, 50
sandwich, 53
Rajah's hospitality, a, 196
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 113
Rat snakes, 204
Regimental dinner, a, 99
Rice for curry, 17, 145
Richardson, 81
Roasting, 76
Romans, the, 59
Royalty, 85
Rouen ducks, 87
SALAD, anchovy, 160
a memorable, 157
boarding-house, 150
celery, 156
cheese in, 158
corn, 158
Francatelli's, 150
French, 151
fruit, 16 1
herring, 155
Italian, 159
lobster, 151
maker, a gentleman-, 156
orange, 161
potato, 155
Roman, 159
Russian, 160
tomato, 156
Salads, 147
Sala, George Augustus, 71
Salmi Bernardin, 92
of wild-duck, 93
Salmon steak, 24
Sandhurst R. M. C., 67
Sandwich, a race-course, 53
Sambal, 168
St. Leger, the, 84
Sauce, carp, 165
celery, 164
Christopher North's, 165
currant, 167
goose, 1 68
gooseberry, 166
Gubbins, 14
hare, 165
horse-radish, 164
orange, 161
oyster, 137
Tapp, 190
Tar tare, 166
Savarin, Brillat, 90
Saxon dining-table, a, 65
Scorcher, a, 264
Scott, Sir Walter, 67
Scalloped oysters, 173
Scotch broth, 52
Shandy gaff, rich man's, 225
Shepherd's pie, 45
Ship and Turtle, the, 38
Sidney, Harry, 183
Simla, luncheon at, 58
to Cashmere, 200
Sligo slop, 244
Sloe gin, 227
Smith, Sydney, 147
Snipe pudding, 41
Soup, French, 97
"Spanky," 182
! Spinach, 127
' Sprats, 179
Staff of life, the, 7
Steaks, 50
salmon, 24
thoroughbred horse, 191
: Steam-chest, the, 76
! Stew, Irish, 50
" Jolly Sandboys," 5 1
oyster, 174
I Stout and champagne, 225
282
CAKES AND ALE
Straight talks, 272
Suetonius, 61
Suffolk pride, 56
Such larks, 46
Supper, Hotel Cecil, 179
ball, 175
Surgeon-major, a, 264
Surrey fowls, 88
Swizzle, a, 271
TAPP sauce, 190
Tartar sauce, 166
Tea, 6
a la Franc ahe, 28
Thibet, 200
Thumb-piece, 53
Tiger's milk, 241
Toddy, 215
whisky, 216
Tomato, the, 126
Tomnoddy, Lord, 180
Toole, John Lawrence, 258
Tcurneaos, a, 89
Tripe, 177
how to cook, 178
Tsar, the, 57
Tsaritza, the, 86
Turkey, the, 94
pulled, 94
Turmeric, .139
Turnip, 127
Turner, Godfrey, 103
VEGETARIAN banquet, a, 132
Vitellius, 6 1
Vol-au-Vent financier e, 90
WAITER, the, 112
Warden pie, a, 5
Wellington, Duke of, 107
West Indies, the, 240
West, out, 96
Whisky, sour, 243
Wild-duck, salmi of, 93
William the Conqueror, 261
Woodcock pie, 47
Working man, the, 270
Wyndham, 241
YATES, Edmund's
cences, 178
York, New, 95
Yorkshire pie, 49
Reminis-
THE END
MILLER, SON, AND COMPY., LIMITED,
PRINTERS,
FAKENHAM AND LONDON.
Telephone 6659 Gerrard 31, Essex Street,
Telegraphic Address Gucien, London London, England
Cable Code Paul's Simplicode 19141915
STANLEY PAUL & CO.'S
LIST of NEW BOOKS
*** PREVIOUS LISTS CANCELLED
A GREAT LITERARY DISCOVERY
JULIETTE DROUET'S LOVE-LETTERS TO
VICTOR HUGO
Edited with a Biography of Juliette Drouet by Louis
Guimbaud ; translated by Lady Theodora Davidson.
Demy 8vo , cloth gilt, with many illustrations, 10/6
net.
What is described as the most fascinating and notable human
document seen for many years has recently been discovered in Paris
by a distinguished French author, whose work has received the crown
of the Academy. This writer, after ten years' patient work, has
brought to light a collection of letters written by Juliette Drouet to
Victor Hugo.
The story of Juliette's love for the great French novelist is one of the
most romantic in history. Becoming devotedly attached to him when
he first noticed her playing a humble part in ** Lucrezia Borgia," she
followed him in his exile to Brussels, Guernsey and Jersey, where she
inspired some of his greatest poems. To console herself whenever he
was absent, she wrote down " everything that came into her head,
everything that caused her heart to beat." These are not ordinary
love-letters, but *' scribbles," as Juliette herself called them, thrown
upon paper hour after hour, cast into a corner without being read over,
and secured by the lover at each of his visits, as so many trophies of
passion.
These letters were written so constantly that they number in all as
many as 15,000, and of these a careful selection has been made for
publication. M. Louis Guimbaud, who is responsible for the discovery
of the letters, has added an extremely interesting biographical study of
Juliette and her relations with Victor Hugo. The book, which is
illustrated by a remarkable series of illustrations from the Victor
Hugo Museum, contains many of the most tender and passionate
love-letters ever written.
LIFE AND LETTERS IN THE ITALIAN RENAIS-
SANCE
By CHRISTOPHER HARE, author of ' ' Men and Women of
the Italian Reformation," etc.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, illustrated, 12/6 net.
In this author's previous books on the Renaissance, he has told the
story of Illustrious Ladies, of Emperors and Kings, Popes and Warriors,
as makers of history in Italy and other lands. The present work is
concerned with a finer and more enthralling subject : the lives of writers
and thinkers as contrasted with the mere pomp and splendour of the
tune. The Poet, the Humanist, the Historian, the Diplomatist, and
the Letter- writer, from Lorenzo the Magnificent to Machiavelli and
Baldassare Castiglione, are treated in turn, in a bright, illuminating
narrative.
THE LIFE AND TIMES OF QUEEN ADELAIDE
By MARY F. SANDARS, Author of * ' Princess and Queen
of England," etc.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, with many rare illustrations, 16/- net.
The wife of William IV. came as a foreigner to be Queen of England,
and found herself surrounded by difficult and trying circumstances,
both political and domestic. In dread of an impending revolution
she exerted all her influence on the side of peace, and by this and the
purity of her life and aims she earned the title of " Good Queen
Adelaide."
THE MARTYR OF LOVE : THE LIFE OF LOUISE DE
LA VALLIERE
By CLAUDE FERVAL, with an introduction by Jean
Richepin ; translated by Sidney Dark.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, illustrated, 16/- net.
No more poignant account of the romance of Louise de la Valliere
has ever been written than this by Claude Ferval, the well-known
French romantic writer. In its always interesting setting of the gay,
intriguing court at Fontainebleau, it tells in delightful, sympathetic
language the story of the first mistress of Louis XIV. It is at once a
vivid historical study and a passionate romance.
IMPERIAL AMERICA
By J. M. KENNEDY, Author of " Tory Democracy," etc.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, illustrated, 12/6 net.
Thoughtfully and lucidly, Mr. J. M. Kennedy, who is a well-known
authority on international affairs, describes the " imperialistic "
attitude of the United States in their relation to the European Powers
and especially to Great Britain. The history of the States is traced
in this light, the objects of the Monroe Doctrine are explained, and a
description is given of the working of the U.S.A. home politics. The
book is essentially up-to-date in its assignment of the place of the
United States in European controversies.
2
IRELAND : VITAL HOUR.
By ARTHUR LYNCH, M.P., Author of " Modern Authors :
A Review and Forecast," "Approaches : The Poor
Scholar's Quest of a Mecca," " Our Poets," "Human
Documents," "Prince Azreel," " Psychology : "A
New System," " Purpose and Evolution," " Sonnets
of the Banner and the Star," etc., etc.
In Demy Svo, cloth gilt, 10/6 net.
Here, at length, is a fearless and illuminating book, written with
inside knowledge of Irish politics. The author has had opportunity
given to few of possessing essential knowledge of Irish organisations.
He writes, however, less as an historian than as an engineer. He has
entered upon the work in that rare spirit of patriotism which seeks the
weaknesses and the strength of the materials of which the Irish nation
of the future must be built. He tests the materials remorselessly,
cutting down beneath surface-show till he finds sound substance.
Animated as he is by hope for Ireland he discards flattery and
flummery, and some of his criticisms of the existing state of affairs,
particularly the influence of the clergy in politics, will produce a deep
impression, and perhaps provoke fierce rejoinders. These remarks
apply not to the priests only, but to their Orange confreres. His fer-
vent desire is to see religious strife and bigotry eliminated from Irish
public life.
On the whole the book is both conciliatory and unifying, and the true
way of Ireland's concord with England is pointed out. While daringly
thrusting his hand into the furnace of burning questions of the day, the
author has written in an easy, discursive style, lightening the pages by
humourous touches, after the manner of his " Human Documents," or
by graphic personal descriptions of famous men such as Parnell,
Davitt and Synge whom he has encountered in his career. He prefers
to illustrate a point by anecdote rather than belabour it by an argument.
One of the chapters is in part Autobiograpical ; another chapter speaks
of Parliament, with piquant notes of irony ; a fresh and lively dis-
cussion of Irish Literature illustrates the author's characteristic style of
uttering deep sayings in a light mood ; whilst another chapter, deal-
ing with the Irish in America, will be read with peculiar interest at the
present time.
Altogether an original, bold, sincere, and, above all, upbuilding book.
MARCHING SONGS.
A pocket book for our soldiers.
In cloth limp, 6d. net.
** A merry heart goes all the day your sad tires in a mile-a." Every
soldier knows that without the rousing song each mile grows longer and
longer. The object of this little handbook of melody is to help our
weary warriors on their way. Songs which they sang as boys, and still
sing as men, are here collected songs with stirring tunes, swinging
choruses, and all in correct time for marching. There is nothing to
learn ; half the men in a Company would already know both the words
and music of most, and the book is but a peg for the memory. To suit all,
the tunes are given in the old, and in the tonic-sol-fa notation.
8
THE PRINCESS MATHILDE BONAPARTE
By PHILIP W. SERGEANT, Author of " The Last Empress
of the French," etc.
Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, 16/- net.
Princess Mathilde Bonaparte, the niece of the great Emperor, died
only ten years ago. She was the first serious passion of her cousin, the
Empero/Napoleon III, and she might have been, if she had wished,
Empress of the French. Instead, she preferred to rule for half a
century over a salon in Paris, where, although not without fault, she
was known as " the good princess."
FROM JUNGLE TO ZOO
By ELLEN VELVIN, F.Z.S., Author of " Behind the
Scenes with Wild Animals," etc.
Large crown Svo, cloth gilt, with many remarkable
photographs, 6/- net.
A fascinating record of the many adventures to which wild animals
and their keepers are subject from the time the animals are captured
until their final lodgment in Zoo or menagerie. The author has studied
wild animals for sixteen years, and writes from personal knowledge.
The book is full of exciting stories and good descriptions of the methods
of capture, transportation and caging of savage animals, together
with accounts of their tricks, training, and escapes from captivity.
THE ADMIRABLE PAINTER : A study of Leonardo
da Vinci
By A. J. ANDERSON, Author of " The Romance of Fra
Filippo Lippi," " His Magnificence," etc.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, 10/6 net.
In this book we find Leonardo da Vinci to have been no absorbed,
religious painter, but a man closely allied to every movement of the
brilliant age in which he lived. Leonardo jotted down his thoughts in
his notebooks and elaborated them with his brush, in the modelling
of clay, or in the planning of canals, earthworks and flying-machines.
These notebooks form the groundwork of Mr. Anderson't fascinating
study, which gives us a better understanding of Leonardo, the man, as
well as the painter, than was possible before.
WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ERA
By Lieut. -Col. ANDREW C. P. HAGGARD, D.S.O., Author
of " Remarkable Women of France, 1431 1749," etc.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, 16/- net.
Lieut.-Col. Haggard has many times proved that history can
be made as fascinating as fiction/ Here he deals with the women
whose more or less erratic careers influenced, by their love of display,
tha outbreak which culminated in the Reign of Terror. Most of them
lived till after the beginning of the Revolution, and some, like Marie
Antoinette, Th6roigne de Mericourt and Madame Roland, were sucked
down in the maelstrom which their own actions had intensified.
4
THE MEMOIRS OF THE DUKE DE ST. SIMON
Newly translated and edited by FRANCIS ARKWRIGHT.
In six volumes, demy 8vo, handsomely bound in cloth
gilt, with illustrations in photogravure, 10/6 net each
volume. (Volumes I. and II. are now ready.)
No historian has ever succeeded in placing scenes and persons so
vividly before the eyes of his readers as did the Duke de St. Simon.
He was a born observer ; his curiosity was insatiable ; he had a keen
insight into character ; he knew everybody, and has a hundred anec-
dotes to relate of the men and women he describes. He had a singular
knack of acquiring the confidential friendship of men in high office,
from whom he learnt details of important state affairs. For a brief
while he served as a soldier. Afterwards his life was passed at the
Court of Louis XIV, where he won the affectionate intimacy of the
Duke of Orleans and the Duke of Burgundy. St. Simon's famous
Memoirs have recently been much neglected in England, owing to the
mass of unnecessary detail overshadowing the marvellously fascinating
chronicle beneath. In this edition, however, they have been carefully
edited and should have an extraordinarily wide reception.
BY THE WATERS OF GERMANY
By NORMA LORIMER, Author of " A Wife out of Egypt,"
etc. With a Preface by Douglas Sladen.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, with a coloured frontispiece and
16 other illustrations by MARGARET THOMAS and ERNA
MICHEL, 12/6 net.
This fascinating travel-book describes the land of the Rhine and the
Black Forest, at the present time so much the centre of public interest.
The natural and architectural beauties of Germany are too supreme
for even the sternest German-hater to deny ; and this book describes
them and the land around them well. But apart from the love-story
which Miss Lorimer has weaved into the book, a particularly great
interest attaches to her description of the home life of the men who,
since she saw them, have deserved and received the condemnation of
the whole civilized world.
BY THE WATERS OF SICILY
By NORMA LORIMER, Author of "By the Waters of
Germany," etc.
New and Cheaper Edition, reset from new type,
Large Crown Svo, cloth gilt, with a coloured frontis-
piece and 16 other illustrations, 6/-.
This book, the predecessor of " By the Waters of Germany," was
called at the time of its original publication " one of the most original
books of travel ever published." It had at once a big success, but for
some time it has been quite out of print. Full of the vivid colour of
Sicilian life, it is a delightfully picturesque volume, half travel-book,
half story ; and there is a sparkle in it, for the author writes as if glad
to be alive in her gorgeously beautiful surroundings.
THL ESSEX LIBRARY
In large crown 8vo, cloth gilt, illustrated, 5/- net.
" The Essex Library is exceedingly well produced,
especially when the low price is taken into considera-
tion, and of a format at once convenient and digni-
fied." Bookman
FEODOR DOSTOIEFFSKY : A Great Russian Realist.
By J. A. T. LLOYD Author of " Two Russian Reformers," etc.
2nd Edition.
" A critical and appreciative biography that will be welcomed by all
lovers of literature. There is a fascination that cannot be resisted in
its pages." Newcastle Chronicle.
THE LIFE OF CESARE BORGIA.
By RAFAEL SABATINI, Author of " Torquemada and the Spanish
Inquisition," etc. 3rd Edition.
*' Mr. Sabatini has a lively and vigorous style which imparts a
freshness to his narrative, and the story of Cesare Borgia's short but
varied career proves as entertaining as it is informing."
Daily Telegraph.
HONORE DE BALZAC : His Life and Writings.
By MARY F. SANDARS, with an Introduction by W. L. COURTNEY,
LL.D. 2nd Edition.
** Excellent. An accurate, complete, intelligible life of Balzac. The
one book of its kind in Europe." Mr. Tighe Hopkins, in the Daily
Chronicle.
THE CINEMA BOOKS
In crown 4to, on art paper, I/- net each.
SHAKESPEARE'S " HAMLET " : The story of the Play Con-
cisely Told. With 55 photographs of Sir J. Forbes-Robertson
and his Company, taken from the Cinematograph Film.
THE LIFE AND REIGN OF VICTORIA THE GOOD.
By MAY WYNNE, Author of " Henry of Navarre," etc. With
54 pictures reproduced from the Cinematograph film " Sixty
Years a Queen.
A great patriotic and historical interest attaches to this book.
The 54 excellent illustrations show all the principal events in
British History from 1837-1900.
THE OLD WOOD CARVER.
A story invented by the late Sir HUBERT VON HERKOMER, R.A.,
and told by J. SAXON MILLS. With 55 illustrations reproduced
from the Cinematograph Film, in which Sir Hubert von Herk-
omer played the name part.
6
THE NEW FRANCE, BEING A HISTORY FROM THE
ACCESSION OF LOUIS PHILIPPE IN 1830 TO THE
REVOLUTION OF 1848, with Appendices
By ALEXANDRE DUMAS. Translated into English, with
an introduction and notes by R. S. GARNETT.
In two volumes, Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, profusely illus-
trated with a rare portrait of Dumas and other pictures
after famous artists. 24/- net.
The map of Europe is about to be altered. Before long we shall be
engaged in the marking out. This we can hardly follow with success
unless we possess an intelligent knowledge of the history of our Allies.
It is a curious fact that the present generation is always ignorant of
the history of that which preceded it. Everyone or nearly everyone has
read a history Carlyle's or some other of the French Revolution of
1789 to 1800 ; very few seem versed in what followed and culminated
in the revolution of 1848, which was the continuation of the first.
Both revolutions resulted from an idea the idea of the people. In
1789 the people destroyed servitude, ignorance, privilege, monarchical
despotism ; in 1848 they thrust aside representation by the few and a
Monarchy which served its own interests to the prejudice of the country.
It is impossible to understand the French Republic of to-day unless
the struggle in 1848 be studied : for every profound revolution is
an evolution.
A man of genius, the author of the most essentially French book,
both in its subject and treatment, that exists (its name is The Three
Musketeers) took part in this second revolution, and having taken part
in it, he wrote its history. Only instead of calling his book what it was
a history of France for eighteen years that is to say from the
accession of Louis Philippe in 1830 to his abdication in 1848 he called
it The Last King of the French. An unfortunate title, truly, for while
the book was yet a new one the " last King " was succeeded by a man
who, having been elected President, made himself Emperor. It will
easily be understood that a book with such a title by a republican was
not likely to be approved by the severe censorship of the Second
Empire. And, in fact, no new edition of the book has appeared for
sixty years, although its republican author was Alexandre Dumas.
During the present war the Germans have twice marched over his
grave at Villers Cotterets, near Soissons, where he sleeps with his brave
father General Alexandre Dumas. The first march was en route for
Paris ; the second was before the pursuit of our own and the French
armies, and while these events were taking place the first translation of
his long neglected book was being printed in London. Habent sua fata
tibelli.
Written when the fame of its brilliant author was at its height, this
book will be found eminently characteristic of him. Although a
history composed with scrupulous fidelity to facts, it is as amusing as a
romance. Wittily written, and abounding in life and colour, the long
narrative takes the reader into the battlefield, the Court and the Hotel
de Ville with equal success. Dumas, who in his early days occupied a
desk in the prince's bureaux, but who resigned it when the Due
d'Orleans became King of the French, relates much which it is curious
to read at the present time. To his text, as originally published, are
added as Appendices some papers from his pen relating to the history
of the time, which are unknown in England.
T
WAR MEDALS AND THEIR HISTORY
By W. AUGUSTUS STEWARD, Officier d'Academie,
Author of "From the Breasts of the Brave," etc'.
Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, profusely illustrated, 12/6 net.
Mr. Steward weaves into the romance and history of the War Medal
technical explanations of great interest to the student and collector
as well as to the general reader. From the inception of the War or
Special Service Medal, he takes his readers through its history to the
present day, explaining at the same time the differences between the
bona-fide and the fraudulent.
WHO'S WHO IN AMERICA, 1914-1915
Edited by ALBERT NELSON MARQUIS.
7| x 5 j, cloth gilt, 3,000 pages, 21/- net.
A biographical dictionary of 20,000 notable living men and women
of the United States. The American Who's Who, a biennial publica-
tion now in its eighth edition, should have its place on the reference
shelves of all business offices, clubs, hotels, newspaper offices, public
libraries, and similar institutions.
THE CURE FOR POVERTY
By JOHN CALVIN BROWN.
Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 5/- net.
Mr. John Calvin Brown, after many years of heavy commercial
experience in England, in the United States, and on the Continent,
reviews the most burning National reforms of the British Empire and
of the United States. This narrative is made good reading even for
the non-student of national and industrial affairs by the very large
number of apposite stories interspersed among the plain arguments of
the book, so that from cover to cover it reads like a most clearly in-
structive, yet spicily humorous, after-dinner speech.
SHORT CUTS TO FIRST AID
By a Metropolitan Police Surgeon attached to the Royal
Army Medical Corps.
F'cap Svo (6J x 3J), Id. net.
At this particular time when thousands of active men have been
suddenly uprooted from their normal life to serve as soldiers, special
constables, and in other corps, the need is strongly felt for this book
of Short Cuts to First Aid. It is not intended for students or experts,
but for the man who wants to be ready to help those around him, and
even, if necessary, to apply bandages to minor injuries on himself.
England is training men to-day at double-quick time, and this book
will give all the necessary information without redundant words or
waste of time.
8
CROQUET
By the RT. HON. LORD TOLLEMACHE.
Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, with 100 photographs and a large
coloured plan of the court, 10/6 net.
This work, intended both for the novice and for the skilled player,
explains in clear language the various methods, styles and shots found
after careful thought and practical experiences to have the best results.
It is thoroughly up-to-date, and includes, besides good advice on the
subject of " breaks," a treatise on the Either Ball Game, explaining
how to play it.
THE JOLLY DUCHESS: HARRIOT, DUCHESS OF
ST. ALBANS. FIFTY YEARS' RECORD OF STAGE AND
SOCIETY (1787-1837)
By CHARLES E. PEARCE, Author of " Polly Peachum,"
etc.
Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, 16/- net.
Mr. Charles E. Pearce tells in a lively, anecdotal style the story of
Harriot Mellon, who played merry, hoydenish parts before the foot-
lights a hundred years ago, until her fortunes were suddenly changed
by her amazing marriage to Thomas Coutts, the banker prince, who
died a few years later, leaving her a gigantic fortune. She then
married the Duke of St. Albans.
SIR HERBERT TREE AND THE MODERN
THEATRE : A DISCURSIVE BIOGRAPHY
By SIDNEY DARK, Author of "The Man Who Would
not be King," etc.
Demy Svo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, 10/6 net.
Mr. Sidney Dark, the well-known literary and dramatic critic, has
written a fascinating character-study of Sir Herbert Tree both as actor
and as man, and he has used the striking personality of his subject as
a text for a comprehensive survey and criticism of the modern
English stage and its present tendencies. Mr. Dark's opinions have
always been distinctive and individual, and his new book is outspoken,
witty, and brilliantly expressed.
THE MASTER PROBLEM
By JAMES MARCHANT, F.R.S. Ed., Author of " Dr.
Paton," and editor of " Prevention," etc. With an
Introduction by the Rev. F. B. Meyer, D.D.
Crown Svo, cloth gilt, 5/- net.
This book deals with the social evil, its causes and its remedies.
Necessarily, the writer is compelled to present many aspects of the
case, and to describe persons and scenes which he has encountered,
as Director of the National Council of Public Morals, in America, India,
Europe, the Colonies, etc. ; the overruling object of the book, however,
is the more difficult and more useful task of discovering the root causes
of this vice and of suggesting lasting remedies.
9
THE MARIE TEMPEST BIRTHDAY BOOK
Giving an extract for each day of the year from the
various parts played by Miss Marie Tempest.
Demy 18 wo, cloth gilt, with an introductory appreciation
and 9 portraits in photogravure, 1/6 net.
Miss Marie Tempest is undoubtedly one of the most popular actresses
of the English stage. She has created for herself a distinctive character,
into which is weaved much of her own personality, and the charm of
that personality is illustrated by these happy quotations from the
parts she has played. The illustrations, show her at various periods
in her theatrical career, while the introductory appreciation by Mr.
Sidney Dark is especially illuminating.
A GARLAND OF VERSE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
Edited by ALFRED H. MILES.
Handsome cloth gilt, 2/6 net.
A collection of verse for children. The pieces, selected from a wide
field, are graded to suit age and classified to facilitate reference, and
many new pieces are included to help nature-study and interest
children in collateral studies. Never before has an attempt been
made to cover in one volume such a wide range of pieces at so small
a price.
THIS IS MY BIRTHDAY
By ANITA BARTLE. With an introduction by Israel
Zangwill.
Handsomely bound, gilt and gilt top, 756 pages, 2/6 net.
Also in various leather bindings.
This is a unique volume, being a birthday-book of the great, living
and dead, whether poets, arists, philosophers, statesmen, warriors, or
novelists. A page of beautiful and characteristic quotations is appro-
priated to each name, and the page opposite is left blank for the filling
in of new names. Everyone likes to know the famous people who were
born on their natal day, and few will refuse to add their signatures to
such a birthday book as this. Mr. Zangwill has written a charming
introduction to the book, and there is a complete index.
STORIES OF THE KAISER AND HIS ANCESTORS
By CLARE JEKROLD, Author of " The Early Court of
Queen Victoria/' and " The Married Life of Queen
Victoria " etc.
Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, with portraits, 2/6 net ; paper, 2/-
net.
In this book Mrs. Clare Jerrold presents in anecdotal fashion in-
cidents both tragic and comic in the career of the Kaiser Wilhelm
and his ancestors. The frank and fearless fashion in which Mrs.
Jerrold has dealt with events in her earlier books will pique curiosity
as to this new work, in which she shows the Kaiser as an extraordinary
example of heredity most of his wildest vagaries being foreshadowed
in the lives and doings of his forebears.
12
A NEW SERIES OF RECITERS
96 pages large 4to, double -columns, clear type on good
paper, handsome cover design in three colours, 6d. net.
Also in cloth, I/- net.
THE FIRST FAVOURITE RECITER
Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Valuable Copyright and
other Pieces by Robert Louis Stevenson, Sir Edwin
Arnold, Austin Dobson, Sir W. S. Gilbert, Edmund
Gosse, Lord Lytton, Coulson Kernahan, Campbell
Rae -Brown, Tom Gallon, Artemus Ward, and other
Poets, wits, and Humorists.
Mr. Miles' successes in the reciter world are without parallel. Since
he took the field in 1882 with his Al Series, he has been continually
scoring, reaching the boundary of civilisation with every hit. For
nearly 30 years he has played a famous game, and his score to date is
a million odd, not out 1 The secret is, he captains such wonderful
elevens, and places them with so much advantage in the field. Who
could not win with such teams as those named above. ?
Uniform with the above in Style and Price :
THE UP-TO-DATE RECITER
Edited by ALFRED H. MILES. Valuable Copyright and
other Pieces by great Authors, including Hall Caine,
Sir A. Conan Doyle, Robert Buchanan, William
Morris, Christina Rossetti, Lord Tennyson, Robert
Browning, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Max Adeler, and
other Poets and Humorists.
" An ideal gift for your girls and youths for Christmas. It is just as
admirable a production for grown-ups, and many a pleasant hour in the
cold evenings can be spent by the fire with 4 The Up-to-date Reciter.*
Star.
" A very handy collection of recitations has been gathered here by
Mr. Alfred H. Miles. The Editor has aimed at including poems and
prose pieces which are not usually to be found in volumes of recitations,
as well as a few of the old favourites . . . The grave and gay
occasions are equally well provided for. A sign of the times is here, too,
shown by the inclusion of such pieces as ' Woman and Work ' and
* Woman,' both from the chivalrous pen of the Editor." The Bookman.
" A marvellous production for sixpence, excellent in every respect."
Colonial Bookseller.
13
BALLADS OF BRAVE WOMEN. RECORDS OF THE
HEROIC IN THOUGHT, ACTION AND ENDURANCE.
By ALFRED H. MILES and other writers.
Large crown Svo, red limp, I/- net ; cloth, gilt, 1/6 net ;
paste grain, gilt (boxed], 3/- net ; Persian yapp, gilt top
(boxed], 4/- net.
" Ballads of Brave Women " is a collection of Poems suitable for
recitation at women's meetings and at gatherings and entertainments
of a more general character. Its aim is to celebrate the bravery of women
as shown in the pages of history, on the field of war, in the battle of
life, in the cause of freedom, in the service of humanity, and in the
face of death.
The subjects dealt with embrace Loyalty, Patriotism, In War, In
Domestic Life, For Love, Self-Sacrifice, For Liberty, Labour, In
Danger, For Honour, The Care of the Sick, In Face of Death, etc., by
a selection of the world's greatest writers, and edited by ALFRED H.
MILES.
" The attention which everything appertaining to the woman's
movement is just now receiving has induced Mr. Alfred H. Miles to
collect and edit these ' Ballads of Brave Women.' He has made an
excellent choice, and produced a useful record of tributes to woman's
heroism in thought, action and endurance." Pall Mall Gazette.
MY OWN RECITER
ALFRED H. MILES. Original Poems, Ballads and
Stories in Verse, Lyrical and Dramatic, for Reading
and Recitation. Crown Svo, I/- net.
DRAWING-ROOM ENTERTAINMENTS
A book of new and original Monologues, Duologues,
Dialogues, and Playlets for Home and Platform use.
By Catherine Evelyn, Clare Shirley, Robert Overton,
and other writers. Edited by ALFRED H. MILES.
In crown Svo, red limp, I/- net ; cloth gilt, 1/6 net ;
paste grain, gilt (boxed), 3/- net ; Persian yapp, gilt
(boxed], 4/- net.
Extract from Editor's preface, " The want of a collection of short
pieces for home use, which, while worthy of professional representation
shall not be too exacting for amateur rendering, and shall be well
within the limits of drawing-room resources, has often been pressed
upon the Editor, and the difficulty of securing such pieces has alone
delayed his issue of a collection.
" Performances may be given in drawing-rooms, school rooms, and
lecture halls, privately or for charitable purposes unconditionally,
except that the authorship and source must be acknowledged on any
printed programmes that may be issued, but permission must be
previously secured from the Editor, who, in the interests of his con-
tributors reserves all dramatic rights for their performance in theatres
and music halls or by professionals for professional purposes."
16
A New Series of Books for Boys and Girls
by ALFRED H. MILES.
Editor of the famous "52 Stories" Series.
** Alfred H. Miles is always a safe guide where boys' reading is
concerned. Daily Chronicle.
" ... the healthy atmosphere which characterises all the
books of Alfred H. Miles. Lady's Pictorial.
In lav%e crown 8vo, handsome cloth gilt, 384 pages, fully illustrated, 5/-
each volume.
THE SWEEP OF THE SWORD.
A Battle Book for Boys. Dedicated by special permission to
Field-Marshall Earl Roberts, V.C. With a photogravure frontis-
piece, full-page illustrations of world-famous battle pictures,
printed on art paper, and other illustrations in the text.
Truth : " Truly a stupendous volume, and there is quality as well as
quantity to recommend it."
IN THE LION'S MOUTH :
Fierce Fights with Wild men, Wild Animals and Wild Nature.
By Clive Fenn, Theodore Roosevelt, Frank R. Stockton, Ena
Fitzgerald, F. W. Calkins, Rowland Thomas and other writers.
WHERE DUTY CALLS OR DANGER :
Records of Courage and Adventure for Girls. By Evelyn
Everett-Green, Grace Stebbing, Margaret E. Sangster, Ena
Fitzgerald, E. W. Tomson, F. W. Calkins and other writers.
'TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH on Sea and Shore.
A Book for Boys.
HEROINES OF THE HOME and the World of Duty.
A Book for Girls.
A BOOK OF BRAVE BOYS All the World Over.
A BOOK OF BRAVE GIRLS At Home and Abroad
IN THE TEETH OF ADVENTURE Up and Down
the World.
THE BOY'S BOOK of Sports, Pastimes, Hobbies and
Amusements
By E. KEBLE CHATTERTON. For boys of the ages often to seven-
teen. Illustrated. Cloth gilt, 5s.
'* It is something in the nature of a boy's encyclopaedia in the
brightest sense of the word." The Observer.
17
THE A.B.C. SERIES
In Large Crown 8vo, each volume very fully illustrated
in half-tone and line, price 5s. net each.
THE A.B.C. OF HERALDRY
By GUY CADOGAN ROTHERY, Author of " Symbols,
Emblems and Devices," etc. ; With over 274
illustrations in line and half -tone.
This book traces the evolution of heraldry from its origin in ancient
tribal totemism, through the feudal system, subordinating to some
extent, the purely technical details to the romantic, sociological and
artistic aspects. Nevertheless, to those who desire a handy reference
book on the subject, giving information readily without dullness, it
will be as useful as it will be to those who only seek a description of a
subject wrapped in history and romance.
THE A.B.C. OF THE ENGLISH CATHEDRALS
By W. F. TAYLOR, Author of " The Charterhouse of
London," etc. ; with over 120 photographs by the
Author.
This book, including both an historical section and a descriptive
itinerary to each cathedral, deals with its subject broadly, yet with
sufficient detail to make both an effective guide-book on the spot and a
readable record for study. The numerous photographs by the author,
while illustrating the essential points of the architecture, portray
excellently the beauty of the old buildings.
THE A.B.C. OF CHURCH ARCHITECTURE
By SIDNEY HEATH, Author of " Our Homeland
Churches," etc. ; with 60 pages of illustrations from
photographs and drawings.
While explaining clearly every feature of the different architectural
styles, this book also shows in what way historical, religious and socio-
logical events and ideas influenced the theories of building in the
different centuries. To those interested in architecture, there is a
constant fascination in the evolution of one style from another, and
Mr. Heath has put many illuminating suggestions into his book.
THE A.B.C. OF INDIAN ART
By J. F. BLACKER, Author of " The A.B.C. of Japanese
Art," etc. ; richly illustrated.
A complete survey of the art of India, forming a companion volume
to " The A.B.C. of Japanese Art." Palaces, temples, and tombs
represent the architecture ; armour, musical instruments, jewellery
and metal work, show the craftsmanship ; paintings and carvings in
wood and marble are carefully dealt with, while idols in stone, wood,
and bronze speak of the inspiration of religion.
THE A.B.C. DICTIONARY OF ARTISTS
By FRANK RUTTER, Curator of the Leeds Art Gallery,
and Author of " Rossetti," "Whistler," etc. ; with
many illustrations.
A handy work of reference, containing full biographical and critical
information about all the more distinguished painters, sculptors,
etchers, black and white draughtsmen, etc., from the time of Giotto to
the present day. The book is profusely illustrated, a special feature
being made of portraits of famous artists painted by themselves.
THE A.B.C. OF MODERN PROSE QUOTATIONS :
FROM BLAKE TO BERGSON.
By HOLBROOK JACKSON, Author of " Great English
Novelists/' etc.
At once a fascinating anthology of one of the most brilliant centuries
of history, and a useful reference volume.
THE A.B.C. ABOUT COLLECTING
By Sir JAMES YOXALL, M.P. Third Edition. Fully
illustrated.
" A beginner cannot well have a better guide." Outlook.
THE A.B.C. OF JAPANESE ART
By J. F. BLACKER, Author of " The A.B.C. of Indian
Art," etc. ; with 250 illustrations.
" Valuable information ; rich in beautiful illustrations."
Dundee Courier.
THE A.B.C. OF ARTISTIC PHOTOGRAPHY
By A. J. ANDERSON. Third edition. With photo-
gravure plates, half-tone and line illustrations.
" Profusely illustrated and cleverly written : well worth studying."
Manchester Courier.
THE A.B.C. OF COLLECTING OLD ENGLISH
POTTERY
By J. F. BLACKER, with 432 illustrations.
" Mr. Blacker's pages are full of knowledge." Bookman.
THE A.B.C. OF COLLECTING OLD ENGLISH
CHINA
By J. F. BLACKER, Author of " The A.B.C. of Indian
Art," etc. ; with numerous line and 64 pp. half-tone
illustrations.
* What to look for, how to know it, and what to avoid.
Daily Express.
31
New Six Shilling Novels continued
FANTOMAS
By PIERRE SOUVESTRE and MARCEL ALLAIN.
The authors of " Fantomas " have created a character that catches
the imagination of the world. To find Fantomas, "the genius of
crime," to know whether he is an individual or the directing spirit of
a highly organised company, is the life-work of a detective, Juve, a
character possessing as much actuality as Sherlock Holmes or Le Coq,
or any of the famous figures in the fictional annals of crime. And
when these two men are set against each other Fantomas with
his daring aud his cleverly planned and executed criminal
operations, and Juve with his deductive reasoning and his
dogged, silent, weasel-like pursuit of the man whom it is his fixed
intention to run down we have a story of imaginative ingenuity and
strength that will rank with the best achievements of Gaboriau.
SCHOOL FOR LOVERS
By E. B. DE K.ENDON
Love-making as an art is the theme of this novel in which the Latin
spirit is revealed in its relation to the sexes. With scarcely an ex-
ception, this particular expression of the Latin spirit in novels is only
known to English readers through the medium of translations, but in
a " School for Lovers " we have a novel written in English by a Latin
on a vital human question one as old as the first man and woman,
and as perennially new as the dawn of To-Day. Seeing that the bonds
of brotherhood between the Anglo-Saxon and the Latin races grow
daily more close, is being more and more deeply realised in the storm
and stress of the world struggle into which we have been plunged by
an unscrupulous foe, the author is convinced that all Anglo-Saxons
will feel more and more inclined to open their hearts to this Latin
spirit as manifested in sex relations ; that at least they will perceive
that, though sometimes too frank in expression, none the less is it
essentially good-hearted, chivalrous and spiritual. Love Romantic
is the Latin's watchword, not Love Sentimental. The latter form of
love is, more often than not, tainted with hypocrisy, and is at bottom
hard and self-seeking and brutal. In a " School for Lovers " the
course of a Love Romantic is traced to its happy ending.
THE WOMAN WHO LOOKED BACK
By M. HAMILTON, Author of " Cut Laurels," " Mrs.
Brett," etc.
This novel tells of a husband and wife who love each other deeply
but quite un demonstratively until an unexpected discovery opens a
way for deceit to come between. This is a story that will make a strong
appeal to women, for it is written with deep insight into character
and the power of emotion.
24
New Six Shilling Novels continued
CONCERNING A VOW
By RHODA BROUGHTON, Author of " Cometh Up as a
Flower," " Between Two Stools," etc.
Threads of comedy and tragedy are delightfully mingled in this new
novel by Miss Rhoda Broughton, who still stands alone amongst
English novelists for her own especial qualities. " Concerning a Vow,"
the story of a girl who has vowed never to marry the man she adores,
is rich with Miss Broughton's inexhaustible vivacity, and will delight
her immense company of readers by its humour and freshness.
THE GATES OF DOOM
By RAFAEL SABATINI, Author of " The Strolling Saint,"
" The Lion's Skin," etc.
A romance of love. loyalty and intrigue in the days of George I.
A mystery surrounds an agent of the exiled Stuarts, whose adventures
are described with a dash that makes the book memorable among
modern historical novels. The story moves swiftly, the rush and
turmoil of events being interwoven with a love story as sweet and
romantic as any that Mr. Sabatini has yet given us.
THE FLUTE OF ARCADY
By KATE HORN, Author of " Frivole," etc.
A lightly written story of a young couple who conspire together to
secure their own happiness by bringing romance into the lives of their
unwilling guardians. The scene is laid chiefly in Paris and Versailles,
where the heroine, Nina Menzies has been brought up in a convent.
The secret of Miss Kate Horn's popularity is the brightness and humour
of her clever character-drawing.
ORANGE LILY
By L. T. MEADE, Author of " Elizabeth's Prisoner,"
" The Passion of Kathleen Duveen," " Ruffles," etc.
A fascinating Irish girl, who has led a happy-go-lucky life on her
father's estate, with little feminine supervision, is placed under the
care of her match-making aunt, who succeeds in marrying her secretly
to the heir to a large property. Her father has other views, and
complications ensue. Irish wit and humour abound, and many
amusing situations occur before the happy conclusion.
TAINTED GOLD
By H. NOEL WILLIAMS, Author of " A Ten Pound
Penalty," "Five Fair Sisters," etc.
Gerald Carthew, a young barrister, suddenly finds himself the
subject of a conspiracy which repeatedly threatens his life. While
the net is drawn closely round him he succeeds in tracing the motive of
the conspirators, and in a long series of thrilling adventures wins his
way to safety. The reader will follow with fixed attention the gradual
elucidation of this clever mystery, culminating as it does in a startling
denoument.
25
New Six Shilling Novels continued
MISS BILLY
By ELEANOR H. PORTER, Author of "Pollyana . . .
The Glad Book," etc.
" Billy " is an impulsive, warm-hearted girl of eighteen who quite
unknowingly upsets the quiet and dignity of a household of three
bachelors, whose life had hitherto been strictly ordinary and unevent-
ful. The story has many amusing situations and a refreshing romance
which endears Billy, as well as her three crusty, but good-hearted
friends, to the reader. There is an immense fascination about the
brightness of the story. It is a book with a sparkle.
ROBING RECTORY
By ARCHIBALD MARSHALL, Author of " Exton Manor,"
" The Honour of the Clintons," etc.
*' Roding Rectory," with its view of life in a small English country
town, is undoubtedly Mr. Marshall's best novel, and will even bear
comparison with the " Barchester " Series of Anthony Trollope. It
presents a most dramatic situation in Dr. French's defence against the
antagonism of the truculent Gosset and the scheming Miss Budd in
bringing to light a fault of the Rector's youth and promoting a cam-
paign of jealousy against him.
THE DOUBLE HOUSE
By E. EVERETT-GREEN, Author of " Barbed Wire,"
" Clive Lorimer's Marriage," etc.
An old, rambling manor-house in Somersetshire, is shared by Colonel
Colquhoun, who has resigned his commission after being wrongly
suspected of murder, and the beautiful Lois Enderby. The two soon
become attached, but each is involved in a net of mystery, and not
until these have been unravelled can they reach happiness together.
A " WATER-FLY'S " WOOING : A Drama of Black
and White Marriages
By ANNESLEY KENEALY, Author of " Thus Saith Mrs.
Grundy," " The Poodle -Woman," etc.
The novels of Miss Annesley Kenealy have always a good deal of
thought behind them, and are founded on subjects of considerable
moment. In " A * Water-Fly's ' Wooing," she has written a vigorous
tale of intense human interest. As the sub-title implies it deals with
the ever-present race problem, and presents it in a way that will make
a wide appeal.
SWORD AND CROSS
By SILAS K. HOCKING, Author of " Her Benny," etc.
" Sword and Cross " is the story of a brilliant young minster who
takes a firm stand upon a matter of public enthusiasm. His congregation
falls away, his acquaintances publicly shun him, he is hooted in the
streets, and his windows are stoned by the mob. The story is one of the
moslenthralling that this popular novelist has ever written.
26
New Six Shilling Novels continued
THE UNDYING RACE
/
By RENE MILAN.
Rene Milan is a French torpedo-boat commander, at present
serving in the Flying Corps of the French navy. Like his brother
officer, " Pierre Loti," he wields the pen as well as the sword. His
novel " The Undying Race," which has had a splendid success in
France, is based on the survival of a family from very early Tartar
days down to quite modern times. The story is unhesitatingly recom-
mended as a book of wonderful interest and originality.
LITTLE MADAME CLAUDE
By HAMILTON DRUMMOND, Author of " Shoes of Gold,"
"The Winds of God," etc.
This story centres round the struggle between a man and a woman
for possession of Little Madame Claude, the daughter of Louis XII. of
France and Anne of Brittany. She is the prize of a deep political
intrigue which, although waged in secret, goes keenly and bitterly to
its end.
PASSION AND FAITH
By DOROTHEA GERARD, Author of " The City of
Enticement," "The Waters of Lethe," etc.
This vivid story depicts the conflict between passion and faith in
the soul of Marion Escott, a generous but headstrong woman whose
love for the man she should marry is challenged by the tribunal of her
faith. The struggle wages with varying fortunes down to the issue,
which is reached with this author's usual sympathy and strength.
THE SAILS OF LIFE
By CECIL AD AIR, Author of " Gabriel's Garden," etc.
This novel tells the life-story of a young clergyman in an East End
parish, who works on lines of his own and finds a lack of sympathy
from those outside. A young cousin, Molly Rutland, comes to take a
deep interest in his work, but he goes abroad and there meets the
woman of his love. He finds, however, that she cannot share his life
in East London, and so his love-problem is worked out.
LADY VARLEY
By DEREK VANE, Author of " The Secret Door," etc.
A character study of two men and two women brought together in
a lonely country house by the mysterious death of another man in a
London flat. Among them is hidden the secret of the mystery, and the
reader is kept on the tip-toe of expectation as one after another is
threatened with exposure. A good, animated story.
27
New Six Shilling Novels continued
THE INK-SLINGER
By "RiTA," Author of " Jill All -Alone," "A Grey
Life," etc., etc.
** Rita's " hero, "the Ink-slinger," is an erratic genius, trying hard to
make a living by his pen for the support of a patient child, crippled by
his own action. His struggles with a besetting temptation, his mis-
fortunes, his adoration for the " good genius " of his life, and his final
conquest and happiness, are described in a novel of intense interest.
THEfHERO OF URBINO
By MAY WYNNE, Author of " The Silent Captain,"
"The Destiny of Claude," etc.
A tale of the Duchy of Montselto early in the sixteenth century,
when Cesare Borgia exercised all the craft for which he was famous to
wrest this rich state from its hereditary princes. The adventures of
the Duke Grindobaldo in escaping with only two companions to safety,
together with a romantic love-story, form the theme of a novel set
in one of the most turbulent and brilliant periods of Italian history.
A GENTLEWOMAN OF FRANCE
f
By RENE BOYLESVE, Author of " A House on the Hill,"
etc.
This story, although quite unlike the typical French novel, was
crowned by the Academy and attained great popularity on the Con-
tinent. It is the story of a young woman who makes a marriage of
convenience and then, meeting the man whom she would have wished
to make her husband, stands firm in all trials and temptations. In
simple, direct fashion she tells her story, and it rings extraordinarily
true.
THE CREEPING TIDES
By KATE JORDAN.
The scene of " The Creeping Tides " is laid in a quiet, old-built
" backwater " in one of the busiest parts of a foreign city. An English
soldier, concealing a shattered reputation, meets a young girl also
harassed by dread of detection, and this strong and appealing novel
tells how together they face the creeping tides of exposure and reach
peace and safety.
THE GREAT MIRACLE
By J. P. VANEWORDS.
The hero of this novel becomes possessed of a spell, which confers
on its holder immunity from death, pain or restraint. The effect of
this phenomenon on his puzzled contemporaries in the twentieth
century, and how a reluctant and incredulous world treated it, are
described in a story of adventure which leads through prison, law-court,
battleship, and palace to its denoument.
28
New Six Shilling Novels continued
THE HOUSE OF MANY MIRRORS
By VIOLET HUNT, Author of "The Doll," " The
Celebrity's Daughter," etc.
Alfred Pleydell, a charming and artistic person with very little
capacity for earning money, marries against the wishes of his uncle, a
millionaire collector of old furniture and antique mirrors, and finds
himself disinherited. How Rosamund, his wife, by what amounts to
effacing herself, succeeds in gaining for her husband his uncle's in-
heritance and the House of Many Mirrors is the theme of Miss Violet
Hunt's new story.
THISTLES : A Study of the Artistic Temperament
By CORALIE STANTON and HEATH HOSKEN, Authors of
"The Swelling of Jordan," etc.
A strong dramatic novel of modern life, in which mysterious Chinese
conspirators lead the way through a maze of exciting incidents. The
adventures of the hero, threatened, captured, and escaping, will be
followed with zest by all lovers of a thrilling story. These popular
collaborators are here at their best in a novel full of rapid action.
ON DESERT ALTARS
NORMA LORIMER, Author of " A Wife out of Egypt/' etc.
Miss Lorimer, with characteristic courage and delicacy, has tackled
another elemental problem. A woman finds that the only way to get
the husband whom she adores out of the swamps of the Gold Coast,
which are killing him with fever, and to find him work by her side in
London, is to receive for a few weeks the visits of a great financier, who
is passionately fond of her, but whom she detests. The husband comes
home and recovers his health, but eventually discovers what his wife
has done.
Once more Miss Lorimer has given us a very human woman wrestling
with her longing for a larger life.
THE HOUR OF CONFLICT
By A. HAMILTON GIBBS.
The love-story of Everard, a young Oxonian, and a pretty French
girl, Toinette, in a delightful little French watering-place. It is
admirably written, it shows a real knowledge of life and human nature,
and it contains several studies of character of unusual excellence. It
is a clever piece of work, which may be described as " a story of passion,
remorse, and atonement."
A WIFE OUT OF EGYPT
By NORMA LORIMER, Author of " The Second Woman,"
" By The Waters of Germany," etc.
A beautiful and gifted girl, half English, half-Syrian, after education
in England returns to Egypt and finds that she as a Syrian has no
social status. She is soon in conflict with her very English soldier
lover, whose place is afterwards taken by a man less squeamish in
matters merely social.
A thoroughly good Egyptian romance.
29
ONE SHILLING NET NOVELS
In Crown 8vo, illustrated wrappers, I/ - net each.
THE CONSORT (4th edition), by MRS. EVERARD COTES (SARA JEANBTTB DUNCAN).
THE CAREER OF BEAUTY DARLING (13th edition), by DOLF WYLLARDE.
THE WOMAN-HUNTER (5th edition), by Arabella Kenealy.
BETWEEN TWO STOOLS (6th edition), by RHODA BROUGHTON.
TH E TH REE ANARCHISTS (7th edition), by Mrs. STEPNEY RAWSON.
1
2
3
4
5
6
9
10
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
22
24
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
37
25
26
11
12
THE WIDOW To SAY NOTHING OF THE MAN (3rd edition) HELEN ROWLAND
THOROUGHBRED (2nd edition) FRANCIS DODSWORTH
THE SPELL OF THE JUNGLE (2nd edition) ALICE PERRIN
THE SINS OF SOCIETY (Drury Lane Novels) (2nd edition) CECIL RALEIGH
THE MARRIAGES OF MAYFAIR (ditto) (2nd edition) E KEBLE CHATTERTON
A TEN POUND PENALTY (2nd edition)
A PROFESSIONAL RIDER (2nd edition)
THE DEVIL IN LONDON (2nd edition)
FATAL THIRTEEN (2nd edition)
BROTHER ROGUE AND BROTHER SAINT
THE DEATH GAMBLE
THE MYSTERY OF ROGER BULLOCK
BARDELYS, THE MAGNIFICENT (4th edition)
BILLICKS (2nd edition)
THE CABINET MINISTER'S WIFE
THE DREAM AND THE WOMAN (2nd edition)
THE GARDEN OF LIFE (2nd edition)
DR. PHILLIPS : A MAIDA-VALE IDYLL (3rd edition)
TROPICAL TALES (8th edition)
A BABE IN BOHEMIA (12th edition)
YOUNG NICK AND OLD NICK (3rd edition)
THE CHEERFUL KNAVE (5th edition)
THE MYSTERY OF REDMARSH FARM (3rd edition)
THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT (4th edition)
IN FEAR OF A THRONE (3rd edition)
THE RIDING MASTER (7th edition)
LYING LIPS (5th edition)
THE RED FLEUR-DE-LYS (2nd edition)
THE PERFIDIOUS WELSHMAN (10th edition)
AMERICA THROUGH ENGLISH EYES (2nd edition)
THE UNSPEAKABLE SCOT (117th thousand)
LOVELY WOMAN (98th thousand)
H. NOEL WILLIAMS
MRS. EDWARD KENNARD
GEO. R. SIMS
WILLIAM LE QUEUX
TOM GALLON
GEO. R. SIMS
TOM GALLON
RAFAEL SABATINI
A. ST. JOHN ADCOCK
GEO. R. SIMS
TOM GALLON
KATE HORN
FRANK DANBY
DOLF WYLLARDE
FRANK DANBY
S. R. CROCKETT
E. KEBLE HOWARD
ARCHIBALD MARSHALL
JANE WARDLE
R. ANDOM
DOLF WYLLARDE
WILLIAM LE QUEUX
MAY WYNNE
" DRAIG GLAS "
" RITA "
T. W. H. CROSLANB
T. W. H. CROSLAND
Stanley Paul's "Cleartype" Sixpenny Series
In large Demy 8vo, with Pictorial Cover.
158
154
153
152
151
150
149
148
146
145
144
143
142
141
140
139
138
67
66
65
64
63
62
61
60
59
58
57
56
55
54
53
52
51
50
49
48
47
46
45
44
SIDELIGHTS ON THE COURT OF FRANCE
LIEUT .-CoL. ANDREW C. P. HAGGARD, D.S.O.
THE SNAKE GIRL
THE FREE MARRIAGE
CLIVE LORIMER'S MARRIAGE
THE DESTINY OF CLAUDE
THE LADY OF THE BUNGALOW
BROTHER ROGUE AND BROTHER
THE CHEERFUL KNAVE
MAGGIE OF MARGATE
SUSAN AND THE DUKE
THE DEVIL IN LONDON
ALL SORTS
RUFFLES
THE WHITE OWL
THE DOLL
DR. PHILLIPS
THAT IS TO SAY
MY LORD CONCEIT
ASENATH OF THE FORD
FAUSTINE
CORINNA
THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN
THE CITY OF ENTICEMENT
EXOTIC MARTHA
HONOUR'S FETTERS
TOLD IN THE TWILIGHT
GOLDEN DESTINY
LOVE, THE CONQUEROR
ENA'S COURTSHIP
A LOVER AT LARGE
BY THE WATER'S EDGE
THE LION'S SKIN
MULBERRIES OF DAPHNE
SPELL OF THE JUNGLE
REVENGE
LONG HAND
SECOND ELOPEMENT
THE
THE
RED
THE
THE
THE
CHARLES E. PEARCE
KEIGHLEY SNOWDEN
E. EVERETT- GREEN
MAY WYNNE
E. EVERETT- GREEN
SAINT
TOM GALLON
KEBLE HOWARD
GABRIELLE WODNIL
KATE HORN
GEO. R. SIMS
DOLF WYLLARDE
L. T. MEADE
KATE HORN
VIOLET HUNT
FRANK DANBY
RITA
RITA
RITA
RITA
RITA
RITA
DOROTHEA GERARD
DOROTHEA GERARD
MAY WYNNE
P. QUINTON RAY
P. QUINTON RAY
P. QUINTON RAY
P. QUINTON RAY
P. QUINTON RAY
P. QUINTON RAY
RAFAEL SABATINI
KATE HORN
ALICE PERRIN
CHARLES E. PEARCE
SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY
FLOWERDEW
MYSTERY OF ROGER
EDELWEISS
ONLY AN ACTRESS
THE APPLE OF EDEN
BULLOCK TOM GALLON
" RITA "
" RITA "
E. TEMPLE THURSTON
[List continued on next page].
81
Stanley Paul's "Cleartype" Sixpenny Series (con.)
In large Demy 8vo, with Pictorial Covers.
[List continued from previous page].
42 THE DREAM AND THE WOMAN TOM GALLON
41 LOVE BESIEGED CHARLES E. PEARCE
40 A BENEDICK IN ARCADY HALLIWELL SUTCLIFFE
39 THE JUSTICE OF THE KING HAMILTON DRUMMOND
38 THE MAN IN POSSESSION "RITA"
37 A WILL IN A WELL E. EVERETT-GREEN
36 EDWARD AND I AND MRS. HONEYBUN
KATE HORN
35 PRISCILLA OF THE GOOD INTENT
HALLIWELL SUTCLIFFE
34 FATAL THIRTEEN WILLIAM LE QUEUX
33 A STRUGGLE FOR A RING CHARLOTTE BRAME
32 A SHADOWED LIFE CHARLOTTE BRAME
31 THE MYSTERY OF COLDE FELL CHARLOTTE BRAME
30 A WOMAN'S ERROR CHARLOTTE BRAME
29 CLARIBEL'S LOVE STORY CHARLOTTE BRAME
28 AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR CHARLOTTE BRAME
27 LOVE'S MASK EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
26 THE WOOING OF ROSE EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
25 WHITE ABBEY EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
24 HEART OF HIS HEART MADAME ALBANESI
23 THE WONDER OF LOVE MADAME ALBANESI
22 CO-HEIRESS E. EVERETT-GREEN
21 THE EVOLUTION OF KATHARINE E. TEMPLE THURSTON
20 THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE EFFIE A, -LAIDE ROWLANDS
19 A CHARITY GIRL EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
18 THE HOUSE OF SUNSHINE EFFIE \DELAIDE ROWLANDS
17 DARE AND DO EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
16 BENEATH A SPELL EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
15 THE MAN SHE MARRIED EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
14 THE MISTRESS OF THE FARM
EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
13 LITTLE LADY CHARLES EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
12 A SPLENDID DESTINY EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS
11 CORNELIUS MRS. HENRY DE LA PASTURE
10 TRAFFIC E. TEMPLE THURSTON
9 ST. ELMO AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON
8 INDISCRETIONS COSMO HAMILTON
7 THE TRICKSTER G. B. BURGIN
6 THE CITY OF THE GOLDEN GATE
E. EVERETT-GREEN
5 SHOES OF GOLD HAMILTON DRUMMOND
4 THE ADVENTURES OF A PRETTY WOMAN , ,:
FLORENCE WARDEN
3 TROUBLED WATERS HEADON HILL
2 THE HUMAN BOY AGAIN EDEN PHILPOTTS
1 STOLEN HONEY ADA & DUDLEY JAMES
82
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE
STAMPED BELOW
RENEWED BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE
RECALL
LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS
Book Slip-70m-9,'65(F7151s4)458
N2 403163
TX731
Mott, E.S. M6
Cakes & ale. 1913
LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
DAVIS
