The Cook's Oracle; and Housekeeper's Manual Part 6

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

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

"Who, past all pleasures, d.a.m.n the joys of sense, With rev'rend dulness and grave impotence,"

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

CARVING.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Study their genius, caprices, _gout_-- They, in return, may haply study you: Some wish a pinion, some prefer a leg, Some for a merry-thought, or sidesbone beg, The wings of fowls, then slices of the round The trail of woodc.o.c.k, of codfish the sound.

Let strict impartiality preside, Nor freak, nor favour, nor affection guide."

_From the_ BANQUET.

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

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

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

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

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

'Critique your wine, and a.n.a.lyze your meat, Yet on plain pudding deign at home to eat,'

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

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

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

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

Dinner-tables are seldom sufficiently lighted, or attended. An active waiter will have enough to do to attend upon half a dozen active eaters.

There should be about half as many candles as there are guests, and their flame be about eighteen inches above the table. Our foolish modern pompous candelabras seem intended to illuminate the ceiling, rather than to give light on the plates, &c.

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

FOOTNOTES:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

While we warn you against making others your enemies, take care that you do not yourself become your own and greatest enemy. "Favourites are never in greater danger of falling, than when in the greatest favour,"

which often begets a careless inattention to the commands of their employers, and insolent overbearance to their equals, a gradual neglect of duty, and a corresponding forfeiture of that regard which can only be preserved by the means which created it.

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

If your employers are so pleased with your conduct as to treat you as a friend rather than a servant, do not let their kindness excite your self-conceit, so as to make you for a moment forget you are one.

Condescension, even to a proverb, produces contempt in inconsiderate minds; and to such, the very means which benevolence takes to cherish attention to duty, becomes the cause of the evil it is intended to prevent.

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

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

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

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

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

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