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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #53458 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53458)
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-Project Gutenberg's The Chemistry of Cookery, by W. Mattieu Williams
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Chemistry of Cookery
-
-Author: W. Mattieu Williams
-
-Release Date: November 6, 2016 [EBook #53458]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chris Curnow, Emmy and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY
-
-
-
-
-_OPINIONS OF THE PRESS_
-
-ON
-
-THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY.
-
-
-‘The reader who wants to satisfy himself as to the value of this book,
-and the novelty which its teaching possesses, need not go beyond the
-first chapter, on “The Boiling of Water.” But if he reads this he
-certainly will go further, and will probably begin to think how he can
-induce his cook to assimilate some of the valuable lessons which Mr.
-Williams gives. If he can succeed in that he will have done a very good
-day’s work for his health and house. . . . About the economical value
-of the book there can be no doubt.’—SPECTATOR.
-
-‘Will be welcomed by all who wish to see the subject of the preparation
-of food reduced to a science. . . . Perspicuously and pleasantly Mr.
-Williams explains the why and the wherefore of each successive step
-in any given piece of culinary work. Every mistress of a household
-who wishes to raise her cook above the level of a mere automaton
-will purchase two copies of Mr. Williams’s excellent book—the one
-for the kitchen, and the other for her own careful and studious
-perusal.’—KNOWLEDGE.
-
-‘Thoroughly readable, full of interest, with enough of the author’s
-personality to give a piquancy to the stories told.’—WESTMINSTER REVIEW.
-
-‘Mr. Williams is a good chemist and a pleasant writer: he has evidently
-been a keen observer of dietaries in various countries, and his little
-book contains much that is worth reading.’—ATHENÆUM.
-
-‘There is plenty of room for this excellent book by Mr. Mattieu
-Williams. . . . There are few conductors of cookery classes who are so
-thoroughly grounded in the science of the subject that they will not
-find many valuable hints in Mr. Williams’s pages.’—SCOTSMAN.
-
-‘Throughout the work we find the signs of care and thoughtful
-investigation. . . . Mr. Williams has managed most judiciously to
-compress into a very small compass a vast amount of authoritative
-information on the subject of food and feeding generally—and the volume
-is really quite a compendium of its subject.’—FOOD.
-
-‘The British cook might derive a good many useful hints from Mr.
-Williams’s latest book. . . . The author of “The Chemistry of Cookery”
-has produced a very interesting work. We heartily recommend it to
-theorists, to people who cook for themselves, and to all who are
-anxious to spread abroad enlightened ideas upon a most important
-subject. . . . Hereafter, cookery will be regarded, even in this
-island, as a high art and science. We may not live to those delightful
-days; but when they come, and the degree of Master of Cookery is
-granted to qualified candidates, the “Chemistry of Cookery” will be
-a text-book in the schools, and the bust of Mr. Mattieu Williams
-will stand side by side with that of Count Rumford upon every
-properly-appointed kitchen dresser.’—PALL MALL GAZETTE.
-
-‘Housekeepers who wish to be fully informed as to the nature of
-successful culinary operations should read “The Chemistry of
-Cookery.”’—CHRISTIAN WORLD.
-
-‘In all the nineteen chapters into which the work is divided there
-is much both to interest and to instruct the general reader, while
-deserving the attention of the “dietetic reformer.” . . . The author
-has made almost a life-long study of the subject.’—ENGLISH MECHANIC.
-
-
-
-
-_OTHER WORKS BY MR. MATTIEU WILLIAMS._
-
-Crown 8vo. cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._
-
-SCIENCE IN SHORT CHAPTERS.
-
-
-‘Few writers on popular science know better how to steer a middle
-course between the Scylla of technical abstruseness and the Charybdis
-of empty frivolity than Mr. Mattieu Williams. He writes for intelligent
-people who are not technically scientific, and he expects them to
-understand what he tells them when he has explained it to them in his
-perfectly lucid fashion without any of the embellishments, in very
-doubtful taste, which usually pass for popularisation. The papers are
-not mere réchauffés of common knowledge. Almost all of them are marked
-by original thought, and many of them contain demonstrations or aperçus
-of considerable scientific value.’—PALL MALL GAZETTE.
-
-‘There are few writers on the subjects which Mr. Williams selects whose
-fertility and originality are equal to his own. We read all he has to
-say with pleasure, and very rarely without profit.’—SCIENCE GOSSIP.
-
-‘Mr. Mattieu Williams is undoubtedly able to present scientific
-subjects to the popular mind with much clearness and force: and these
-essays may be read with advantage by those, who, without having had
-special training, are yet sufficiently intelligent to take interest in
-the movement of events in the scientific world.’—ACADEMY.
-
-
-Crown 8vo. cloth limp, 2_s._ 6_d._
-
-A SIMPLE TREATISE ON HEAT.
-
-‘This is an unpretending little work, put forth for the purpose of
-expounding, in simple style, the phenomena and laws of heat. No
-strength is vainly spent in endeavouring to present a mathematical view
-of the subject. The Author passes over the ordinary range of matter
-to be found in most elementary treatises on heat, and enlarges upon
-the applications of the principles of his science—a subject which is
-naturally attractive to the uninitiated. Mr. Williams’s object has
-been well carried out, and his little book may be recommended to those
-who care to study this interesting branch of physics.’—POPULAR SCIENCE
-REVIEW.
-
-‘We can recommend this treatise as equally exact in the information it
-imparts, and pleasant in the mode of imparting it. It is neither dry
-nor technical, but suited in all respects to the use of intelligent
-learners.’—TABLET.
-
-‘Decidedly a success. The language is as simple as possible,
-consistently with scientific soundness, and the copiousness of
-illustration with which Mr. Williams’s pages abound, derived from
-domestic life and from the commonest operations of nature, will commend
-this book to the ordinary reader as well as to the young student of
-science.’—ACADEMY.
-
- London : CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly, W.
-
-
-Demy 8vo. cloth extra, price 7_s._ 6_d._
-
-THE FUEL OF THE SUN.
-
-‘The work is well deserving of careful study, especially by the
-astronomer, too apt to forgot the teachings of other sciences than his
-own.’—FRASER’S MAGAZINE.
-
-‘It is characterised throughout by a carefulness of thought and an
-originality that command respect, while it is based upon observed facts
-and not upon mere fanciful theory.’—ENGINEERING.
-
-‘Mr. Williams’s interesting and valuable work called “The Fuel of the
-Sun.”’—POPULAR SCIENCE REVIEW.
-
-
- London: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO.
-
-
-
-
-THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY
-
-
- BY
- W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS
- AUTHOR OF ‘THE FUEL OF THE SUN’ ‘SCIENCE IN SHORT CHAPTERS’
- ‘A SIMPLE TREATISE ON HEAT’ ETC.
-
-[Illustration]
-
- _SECOND EDITION_
-
- London
- CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
- 1892
-
-
-
-
- PRINTED BY
- SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
- LONDON
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE.
-
-
-DURING the infancy of the Birmingham and Midland Institute, when
-my classes in Cannon Street constituted the whole of its teaching
-machinery, I delivered a course of lectures to ladies on ‘Household
-Philosophy,’ in which ‘The Chemistry of Cookery’ was included. In
-collecting material for these lectures, I was surprised at the strange
-neglect of the subject by modern chemists.
-
-On taking it up again, after an interval of nearly thirty years, I find
-that (excepting the chemistry of wine cookery), absolutely nothing
-further, worthy of the name of research, has in the meantime been
-brought to bear upon it.
-
-This explanation is demanded as an apology for what some may consider
-the egotism that permeates this little work. I have been continually
-compelled to put forth my own explanations of familiar phenomena, my
-own speculations, concerning the changes effected by cookery, and
-my own small contributions to the experimental investigation of the
-subject.
-
-Under these difficult circumstances I have endeavoured to place
-before the reader a simple and readable account of what is known of
-‘The Chemistry of Cookery,’ explaining technicalities as they occur,
-rather than abstaining from the use of them by means of cumbrous
-circumlocution or patronising baby-talk.
-
-With a moderate effort of attention, any unlearned but intelligent
-reader of either sex may understand all the contents of these chapters;
-and I venture to anticipate that scientific chemists may find in them
-some suggestive matter.
-
-If these expectations are justified by results, this preliminary essay
-will fulfil its double object. It will diffuse a knowledge of what
-is at present knowable of ‘The Chemistry of Cookery’ among those who
-greatly need it, and will contribute to the extension of such knowledge
-by opening a wide and very promising field of scientific research.
-
-I should add that the work is based on a series of papers that appeared
-in ‘Knowledge’ during the years 1883 and 1884.
-
- W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS.
-
- STONEBRIDGE PARK, LONDON, N.W.
- _March 1885._
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
- CHAPTER PAGE
- I. INTRODUCTORY 1
- II. THE BOILING OF WATER 8
- III. ALBUMEN 19
- IV. GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT 32
- V. ROASTING AND GRILLING 47
- VI. COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER 63
- VII. FRYING 84
- VIII. STEWING 111
- IX. CHEESE 127
- X. FAT—MILK 156
- XI. THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES 173
- XII. GLUTEN—BREAD 194
- XIII. VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES 211
- XIV. COUNT RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS 227
- XV. COUNT RUMFORD’S SUBSTITUTE FOR TEA AND COFFEE 245
- XVI. THE COOKERY OF WINE 265
- XVII. THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION 294
- XVIII. MALTED FOOD 303
- XIX. THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION 313
-
- INDEX 325
-
-
-
-
-THE
-
-CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-INTRODUCTORY.
-
-
-THE philosopher who first perceived and announced the fact that all the
-physical doings of man consist simply in changing the places of things,
-made a very profound generalisation, and one that is worthy of more
-serious consideration than it has received.
-
-All our handicraft, however great may be the skill employed, amounts
-to no more than this. The miner moves the ore and the fuel from their
-subterranean resting-places, then they are moved into the furnace,
-and by another moving of combustibles the working of the furnace is
-started; then the metals are moved to the foundries and forges, then
-under hammers, or squeezers, or into melting-pots, and thence to
-moulds. The workman shapes the bars, or plates, or castings by removing
-a part of their substance, and by more and more movings of material
-produces the engine, which does its work when fuel and water are moved
-into its fireplace and boiler.
-
-The statue is within the rough block of marble; the sculptor merely
-moves away the outer portions, and thereby renders his artistic
-conception visible to his fellow-men.
-
-The agriculturist merely moves the soil in order that it may receive
-the seed, which he then moves into it, and when the growth is
-completed, he moves the result, and thereby makes his harvest.
-
-The same may be said of every other operation. Man alters the position
-of physical things in such wise that the forces of Nature shall operate
-upon them, and produce the changes or other results that he requires.
-
-My reasons for this introductory digression will be easily understood,
-as this view of the doings of man and the doings of Nature displays
-fundamentally the business of human education, so far as the physical
-proceedings and physical welfare of mankind are concerned.
-
-It clearly points out two well-marked natural divisions of such
-education—education or training in the movements to be made, and
-education in a knowledge of the consequences of such movements—_i.e._
-in a knowledge of the forces of Nature which actually do the work when
-man has suitably arranged the materials.
-
-The education ordinarily given to apprentices in the workshop, or
-the field, or the studio—or, as relating to my present subject, the
-kitchen—is the first of these, the second and equally necessary being
-simply and purely the teaching of physical science as applied to the
-arts.
-
-I cannot proceed any further without a protest against a very general
-(so far as this country is concerned) misuse of a now very popular
-term, a misuse that is rather surprising, seeing that it is accepted
-by scholars who have devoted the best of their intellectual efforts to
-the study of words. I refer to the word _technical_ as applied in the
-designation ‘technical education.’
-
-So long as our workshops are separated from our science schools
-and colleges, it is most desirable, in order to avoid continual
-circumlocution, to have terms that shall properly distinguish between
-the work of the two, and admit of definite and consistent use. The two
-words are ready at hand, and, although of Greek origin, have become, by
-analogous usage, plain simple English. I mean the words _technical_ and
-_technological_.
-
-The Greek noun _techne_ signifies an art, trade, or profession, and our
-established usage of this root is in accordance with its signification.
-Therefore, ‘technical education’ is a suitable and proper designation
-of the training which is given to apprentices, &c., in the strictly
-technical details of their trades, arts, or professions—_i.e._ in the
-skilful moving of things. When we require a name for the science or the
-philosophy of anything, we obtain it by using the Greek root _logos_,
-and appending it in English form to the Greek name of the general
-subject, as geology, the science of the earth; anthropology, the
-science of man; biology, the science of life, &c.
-
-Why not then follow this general usage, and adopt ‘technology’ as
-the science of trades, arts, or professions, and thereby obtain
-consistent and convenient terms to designate the two divisions of
-education—technical education, that given in the workshop, &c., and
-technological education, that which _should be_ given as supplementary
-to all such technical education?
-
-In accordance with this, the present work will be a contribution to
-the technology of cookery, or to the technological education of cooks,
-whose technical education is quite beyond my reach.
-
-The kitchen is a chemical laboratory in which are conducted a number of
-chemical processes by which our food is converted from its crude state
-to a condition more suitable for digestion and nutrition, and made more
-agreeable to the palate.
-
-It is the _rationale_ or _ology_ of these processes that I shall
-endeavour to explain; but at the outset it is only fair to say that
-in many instances I shall not succeed in doing this satisfactorily,
-as there still remain some kitchen mysteries that have not yet come
-within the firm grasp of science. The _whole_ story of the chemical
-differences between a roast, a boiled, and a raw leg of mutton has not
-yet been told. You and I, gentle reader, aided by no other apparatus
-than a knife and fork, can easily detect the difference between a
-cut out of the saddle of a three-year-old Southdown and one from a
-ten-months-old meadow-fed Leicester, but the chemist in his laboratory,
-with all his reagents, test-tubes, beakers, combustion-tubes,
-potash-bulbs, &c. &c., and his balance turning to one-thousandth of a
-grain, cannot physically demonstrate the sources of these differences
-of flavour.
-
-Still I hope to show that modern chemistry can throw into the kitchen a
-great deal of light that shall not merely help the cook in doing his or
-her work more efficiently, but shall also elevate both the work and the
-worker, and render the kitchen far more interesting to all intelligent
-people who have an appetite for knowledge, as well as for food; more so
-than it can be while the cook is groping in rule-of-thumb darkness—is
-merely a technical operator unenlightened by technological intelligence.
-
-In the course of these papers I shall draw largely on the practical
-and philosophical work of that remarkable man, Benjamin Thompson, the
-Massachusetts ’prentice-boy and schoolmaster; afterwards the British
-soldier and diplomatist, Colonel Sir Benjamin Thompson; then Colonel
-of Horse and General Aide-de-Camp of the Elector Charles Theodore of
-Bavaria; then Major-General of Cavalry, Privy Councillor of State and
-head of War Department of Bavaria; then Count Rumford of the Holy
-Roman Empire and Order of the White Eagle; then Military Dictator of
-Bavaria, with full governing powers during the absence of the Elector;
-then a private resident in Brompton Road, and founder of the Royal
-Institution in Albemarle Street; then a Parisian _citoyen_, the husband
-of the ‘Goddess of Reason,’ the widow of Lavoisier; but, above all, a
-practical and scientific cook, whose exploits in economic cookery are
-still but very imperfectly appreciated, though he himself evidently
-regarded them as the most important of all his varied achievements.
-
-His faith in cookery is well expressed in the following, where he is
-speaking of his experiments in feeding the Bavarian army and the poor
-of Munich. He says:
-
-‘I constantly found that the richness or quality of a soup depended
-more upon the proper choice of the ingredients, and a proper management
-of the fire in the combination of these ingredients, than upon the
-quantity of solid nutritious matter employed; much more upon the art
-and skill of the cook than upon the sums laid out in the market.’
-
-A great many fallacies are continually perpetrated, not only by
-ignorant people, but even by eminent chemists and physiologists, by
-inattention to what is indicated in this passage. In many chemical
-and physiological works may be found elaborately minute tables of the
-chemical composition of certain articles of food, and with these the
-assumption (either directly stated or implied as a matter of course)
-that such tables represent the practical nutritive value of the food.
-The illusory character of such assumption is easily understood. In the
-first place the analysis is usually that of the article of food in its
-raw state, and thus all the chemical changes involved in the process of
-cookery are ignored.
-
-Secondly, the difficulty or facility of assimilation is too often
-unheeded. This depends both upon the original condition of the food and
-the changes which the cookery has produced—changes which may double
-its nutritive value without effecting more than a small percentage
-of alteration in its chemical composition as revealed by laboratory
-analysis.
-
-In the recent discussion on whole-meal bread, for example, chemical
-analyses of the bran, &c., are quoted, and it is commonly assumed that
-if these can be shown to contain more of the theoretical bone-making or
-brain-making elements, that they are, therefore, in reference to these
-requirements, more nutritious than the fine flour. But before we are
-justified in asserting this, it must be made clear that these outer
-and usually rejected portions of the grain are as easily digested and
-assimilated as the finer inner flour.
-
-I think I shall be able to show that the practical failure of this
-whole-meal bread movement (which is not a novelty, but only a revival)
-is mainly due to the disregard of the cookery question; that whole-meal
-prepared as bread by simple baking is less nutritious than fine flour
-similarly prepared; but that whole-meal otherwise prepared may be, and
-has been, made more nutritious than fine white bread.
-
-Another preliminary example. A pound of biscuit contains more solid
-nutritive matter than a pound of beefsteak, but may not, when eaten by
-ordinary mortals, do so much nutritive work. Why is this?
-
-It is a matter of preparation—not exactly what is called cooking, but
-equivalent to what cooking should be. It is the preparation which has
-converted the grass food of the ox into another kind of food which we
-can assimilate very easily.
-
-The fact that we use the digestive and nutrient apparatus of sheep,
-oxen, &c., for the preparation of our food, is merely a transitory
-barbarism, to be ultimately superseded when my present subject is
-sufficiently understood and applied to enable us to prepare the
-constituents of the vegetable kingdom in such a manner that they shall
-be as easily assimilated as the prepared grass which we call beef and
-mutton, and which we now use only on account of our ignorance of the
-subject treated in the following chapters. I do not presume to assert
-or suggest that my efforts towards the removal of this ignorance will
-transport us at once into a vegetarian millennium, but if they only
-open the gate and show us that there is a road on which we may travel
-towards great improvements in the preparation of our food as regards
-flavour, economy, and wholesomeness, my reasonable readers will not be
-disappointed.
-
-So much of cookery being effected by the application of heat, a sketch
-of the general laws of heat might be included in this introductory
-chapter, but for the necessary extent of the subject.
-
-I omit it without compunction, having already written ‘A Simple
-Treatise on Heat,’ which is divested of technical difficulties by
-presenting simply the phenomena and laws of Nature without any
-artificial scholastic complications. Messrs. Chatto & Windus have
-brought out this little essay in a cheap form, and, in spite of the
-risk of being accused of puffing my own wares, I recommend its perusal
-to those who are earnestly studying the whole philosophy of cookery.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II.
-
-THE BOILING OF WATER.
-
-
-AS this is one of the most rudimentary of the operations of cookery,
-and the most frequently performed, it naturally takes a first place in
-treating the subject.
-
-Water is boiled in the kitchen for two distinct purposes: 1st, for the
-cooking of itself; 2nd, for the cooking of other things. A dissertation
-on the difference between raw water and cooked water may appear
-pedantic, but, as I shall presently show, it is considerable, very
-practical, and important.
-
-The best way to study any physical subject is to examine it
-experimentally, but this is not always possible with everyday means. In
-this case, however, there is no difficulty.
-
-Take a thin[1] glass vessel, such as a flask, or, better, one of the
-‘beakers,’ or thin tumbler-shaped vessels, so largely used in chemical
-laboratories; partially fill it with ordinary household water, and
-then place it over the flame of a spirit-lamp, or Bunsen’s, or other
-smokeless gas-burner. Carefully watch the result, and the following
-will be observed: first of all, little bubbles will be formed,
-adhering to the sides of the glass, but ultimately rising to the
-surface, and there becoming dissipated by diffusion in the air.
-
-This is not boiling, as may be proved by trying the temperature with
-the finger. What, then, is it?
-
-It is the yielding back of the atmospheric gases which the water
-has dissolved or condensed within itself. These bubbles have been
-collected, and by analysis proved to consist of oxygen, nitrogen, and
-carbonic acid, obtained from the air; but in the water they exist by no
-means in the same proportions as originally in the air, nor in constant
-proportions in different samples of water. I need not here go into the
-quantitative details of these proportions, nor the reasons of their
-variation, though they are very interesting subjects.
-
-Proceeding with our investigation, we shall find that the bubbles
-continue to form and rise until the water becomes too hot for the
-finger to bear immersion. At about this stage something else begins to
-occur. Much larger bubbles, or rather blisters, are now formed on the
-bottom of the vessel, immediately over the flame, and they continually
-collapse into apparent nothingness. Even at this stage a thermometer
-immersed in the water will show that the boiling-point is not reached.
-As the temperature rises, these blisters rise higher and higher,
-become more and more nearly spherical, finally quite so, then detach
-themselves and rise towards the surface; but the first that make this
-venture perish in the attempt—they gradually collapse as they rise, and
-vanish before reaching the surface. The thermometer now shows that the
-boiling-point is nearly reached, but not quite. Presently the bubbles
-rise completely to the surface and break there. Now the water is
-boiling, and the thermometer stands at 212° Fahr. or 100° Cent.
-
-With the aid of suitable apparatus it can be shown that the atmospheric
-gases above named continue to be given off along with the steam for a
-considerable time after the boiling has commenced; the complete removal
-of their last traces being a very difficult, if not an impossible,
-physical problem.
-
-After a moderate period of boiling, however, we may practically regard
-the water as free from these gases. In this condition I venture to call
-it cooked water. Our experiment so far indicates one of the differences
-between cooked and raw water. The cooked water has been deprived of
-the atmospheric gases that the raw water contained. By cooling some
-of the cooked water and tasting it, the difference of flavour is very
-perceptible; by no means improved, though it is quite possible to
-acquire a preference for this flat, tasteless liquid.
-
-If a fish be placed in such cooked water it swims for a while with its
-mouth at the surface, for just there is a film that is reacquiring its
-charge of oxygen, &c., by absorbing it from the air; but this film is
-so thin, and so poorly charged, that after a short struggle the fish
-dies for lack of oxygen in its blood; drowned as truly and completely
-as an air-breathing animal when immersed in any kind of water.
-
-Spring water and river water that have passed through or over
-considerable distances in calcareous districts suffer another change
-in boiling. The origin and nature of this change may be shown by
-another experiment as follows: Buy a pennyworth of lime-water from a
-druggist, and procure a small glass tube of about quill size, or the
-stem of a fresh tobacco-pipe may be used. Half fill a small wine-glass
-with the lime-water, and blow through it by means of the tube or
-tobacco-pipe. Presently it will become turbid. Continue the blowing,
-and the turbidity will increase up to a certain degree of milkiness. Go
-on blowing with ‘commendable perseverance,’ and an inversion of effect
-will follow; the turbidity diminishes, and at last the water becomes
-clear again.
-
-The chemistry of this is simple enough. From the lungs a mixture
-of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbonic acid is exhaled. The carbonic
-acid combines with the soluble lime, and forms a carbonate of lime
-which is insoluble in mere water. But this carbonate of lime is to a
-certain extent soluble in water saturated with carbonic acid, and such
-saturation is effected by the continuation of blowing.
-
-Now take some of the lime-water that has been thus treated, place it in
-a clean glass flask, and boil it. After a short time the flask will be
-found incrusted with a thin film of something. This is the carbonate
-of lime which has been thrown down again by the action of boiling,
-which has driven off its solvent, the carbonic acid. This crust will
-effervesce if a little acid is added to it.
-
-In this manner our tea-kettles, engine-boilers, &c., become incrusted
-when fed with calcareous waters, and most waters are calcareous; those
-supplied to London, which is surrounded by chalk, are largely so. Thus,
-the boiling or cooking of such water effects a removal of its mineral
-impurities more or less completely. Other waters contain such mineral
-matter as salts of sodium and potassium. These are not removable
-by mere boiling, being equally soluble in hot or cold, aerated, or
-non-aerated water.
-
-Usually we have no very strong motive for removing either these or
-the dissolved carbonate of lime, or the atmospheric gases from water,
-but there is another class of impurities of serious importance. These
-are the organic matters dissolved in all water that has run over land
-covered with vegetable growth, or, more especially, that which has
-received contributions from sewers or any other form of house drainage.
-Such water supplies nutriment to those microscopic abominations, the
-_micrococci_, _bacilli_, _bacteria_, &c., which are now shown to be
-connected with blood poisoning. These little pests are harmless, and
-probably nutritious, when cooked, but in their raw and growing state
-are horribly prolific in the blood of people who are in certain states
-of what is called ‘receptivity.’ They (the bacteria, &c.) appear to be
-poisoned or somehow killed off by the digestive secretions of the blood
-of some people, and nourished luxuriantly in the blood of others. As
-nobody can be quite sure to which class he belongs, or may presently
-belong, or whether the water supplied to his household is free from
-blood-poisoning organisms, cooked water is a safer beverage than raw
-water. I should add that this germ theory of disease is disputed by
-some who maintain that the source of the diseases attributed to such
-microbia is chemical poison, the microbia (_i.e._ little living things)
-are merely accidental, or creatures fed on the disease-producing
-poison. In either case the boiling is effectual, as such organic
-poisons when cooked lose their original virulent properties.
-
-The requirement for this simple operation of cooking increases with the
-density of our population, which, on reaching a certain degree, renders
-the pollution of all water obtained from the ordinary sources almost
-inevitable.
-
-Reflecting on this subject, I have been struck with a curious fact that
-has hitherto escaped notice, viz. that in the country which over all
-others combines a very large population with a very small allowance
-of cleanliness, the ordinary drink of the people is boiled water,
-flavoured by an infusion of leaves. These people, the Chinese, seem in
-fact to have been the inventors of boiled-water beverages. Judging from
-travellers’ accounts of the state of the rivers, rivulets, and general
-drainage and irrigation arrangements of China, its population could
-scarcely have reached its present density if Chinamen were drinkers of
-raw instead of cooked water. This is especially remarkable in the case
-of such places as Canton, where large numbers are living afloat on the
-mouths of sewage-laden rivers or estuaries.
-
-The ordinary everyday domestic beverage is a weak infusion of tea,
-made in a large teapot, kept in a padded basket to retain the heat.
-The whole family is supplied from this reservoir. The very poorest
-drink plain hot water, or water tinged by infusing the spent tea-leaves
-rejected by their richer neighbours.
-
-Next to the boiling of water for its own sake, comes the boiling
-of water as a medium for the cooking of other things. Here, at the
-outset, I have to correct an error of language which, as too often
-happens, leads by continual suggestion to false ideas. When we speak
-of ‘boiled beef,’ ‘boiled mutton,’ ‘boiled eggs,’ ‘boiled potatoes,’
-we talk nonsense; we are not merely using an elliptical expression, as
-when we say, ‘the kettle boils,’ which we all understand to mean the
-contents of the kettle, but we are expounding a false theory of what
-has happened to the beef, &c.—as false as though we should describe the
-material of the kettle that has held boiling water as boiled copper or
-boiled iron. No boiling of the food takes place in any such cases as
-the above-named—it is merely heated by immersion in boiling water; the
-changes that actually take place in the food are essentially different
-from those of ebullition. Even the water contained in the meat is not
-boiled in ordinary cases, as its boiling-point is higher than that of
-the surrounding water, owing to the salts it holds in solution.
-
-Thus, as a matter of chemical fact, a ‘boiled leg of mutton’ is one
-that has been cooked, but not boiled; while a roasted leg of mutton is
-one that has been partially boiled. Much of the constituent water of
-flesh is boiled out, fairly driven away as vapour during roasting or
-baking, and the fat on its surface is also boiled, and, more or less,
-dissociated into its chemical elements, carbon and water, as shown by
-the browning, due to the separated carbon.
-
-As I shall presently show, this verbal explanation is no mere verbal
-quibble, but it involves important practical applications. An enormous
-waste of precious fuel is perpetrated every day, throughout the whole
-length and breadth of Britain and other countries where English
-cookery prevails, on account of the almost universal ignorance of the
-philosophy of the so-called boiling of food.
-
-When it is once fairly understood that the meat is not to be boiled,
-but is merely to be warmed by immersion in water raised to a maximum
-temperature of 212°, and when it is further understood that water
-cannot (under ordinary atmospheric pressure) be raised to a higher
-temperature than 212° by any amount of violent boiling, the popular
-distinction between ‘simmering’ and boiling, which is so obstinately
-maintained as a kitchen superstition, is demolished.
-
-The experiment described on pages 8 and 9 showed that immediately the
-bubbles of steam reach the surface of the water and break there—that
-is, when simmering commences—the thermometer reaches the boiling-point,
-and that however violently the boiling may afterwards occur, the
-thermometer rises no higher. Therefore, as a medium for heating the
-substances to be cooked, simmering water is just as effective as
-‘walloping’ water. There are exceptional operations of cookery, wherein
-useful mechanical work is done by violent boiling; but in all ordinary
-cookery simmering is just as effective. The heat that is applied to
-do more than the smallest degree of simmering is simply wasted in
-converting water into useless steam. The amount of such waste may be
-easily estimated. To raise a given quantity of water from the freezing
-to the boiling point demands an amount of heat represented by 180° in
-Fahrenheit’s thermometer, or 100° Centigrade. To convert this into
-steam, 990° Fahr. or 550° Cent. is necessary—just five-and-a-half times
-as much.
-
-On a properly-constructed hot-plate or sand-bath a dozen saucepans
-may be kept at the true cooking temperature, with an expenditure of
-fuel commonly employed in England to ‘boil’ one saucepan. In the
-great majority of so-called boiling operations, even simmering is
-unnecessary. Not only is a ‘boiled leg of mutton’ not itself boiled,
-but even the water in which it is cooked should not be kept boiling, as
-we shall presently see.
-
-The following, written by Count Rumford nearly 100 years ago, remains
-applicable at the present time, in spite of all our modern research and
-science teaching:
-
-‘The process by which food is most commonly prepared for the
-table—BOILING—is so familiar to everyone, and its effects are so
-uniform and apparently so simple, that few, I believe, have taken
-the trouble to inquire _how_ or in _what manner_ these effects are
-produced; and whether any and what improvements in that branch of
-cookery are possible. So little has this matter been an object of
-inquiry that few, very few indeed I believe, among the _millions of
-persons_ who for so many ages have been _daily_ employed in this
-process, have ever given themselves the trouble to bestow one serious
-thought upon the subject.
-
-‘The cook knows _from experience_ that if his joint of meat be kept
-a certain time immersed in boiling water it will be _done_, as it is
-called in the language of the kitchen; but if he be asked what is done
-to it, or _how_ or _by what agency_ the change it has undergone has
-been effected—if he understands the question—it is ten to one but he
-will be embarrassed. If he does not understand he will probably answer
-without hesitation, that “_The meat is made tender and eatable by being
-boiled_.” Ask him if the boiling of the water be essential to the
-process. He will answer, “_Without doubt_.” Push him a little further
-by asking him whether, _were it possible_ to keep the water _equally
-hot_ without boiling, the meat would not be cooked _as soon_ and _as
-well_ as if the water were made to boil. Here it is probable he will
-make the first step towards acquiring knowledge by _learning to doubt_.’
-
-In another place he points to the fact that at Munich, where his chief
-cookery operations were performed, water boils at 209½° (on account
-of its elevation), while in London the boiling-point is 212°. ‘Yet
-nobody, I believe, ever perceived that boiled meat was less done at
-Munich than at London. But if meat may without the least difficulty be
-cooked with a heat of 209½° at Munich, why should it not be possible
-to cook it with the same degree of heat in London? If this can be done
-in London (which I think can hardly admit of a doubt), then it is
-evident that the process of cookery, which is called _boiling_, may be
-performed in water which is not boiling hot.’
-
-He proceeds to say, ‘I well know, from my own experience, how difficult
-it is to persuade cooks of this truth, but it is so important that no
-pains should be spared in endeavouring to remove their prejudices and
-enlighten their understandings. This may be done most effectually in
-the case before us by a method I have several times put in practice
-with complete success. It is as follows: Take two equal boilers,
-containing equal quantities of _boiling hot water_, and put into them
-two equal pieces of meat taken from the same carcase—two legs of
-mutton, for instance—and boil them during the same time. Under one of
-the boilers make a _small fire_, just barely sufficient to keep the
-water _boiling hot_, or rather just _beginning to boil_; under the
-other make _as vehement a fire as possible_, and keep the water boiling
-the whole time with the utmost violence. The meat in the boiler in
-which the water has been kept _only just boiling hot_ will be found to
-be quite as well done as that in the other. It will even be found to
-be much better cooked, that is to say tenderer, more juicy, and much
-higher flavoured.’
-
-Rumford at this date (1802) understood perfectly that the water just
-boiling hot had the same temperature as that which was boiling with
-the utmost violence, but did not understand that the best result is
-obtained at a much lower temperature, for in another place he states
-that if the meat be cooked in water under pressure, so that the
-temperature shall exceed 212°, it will be done proportionally quicker
-and as well. My reasons for controverting this will be explained in the
-following chapters.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[1] In applying heat to glass vessels, thickness is a source of
-weakness or liability to fracture, on account of the unequal expansion
-of the two sides, due to inequality of temperature, which, of course,
-increases with the thickness of the glass. Besides this, the thickness
-increases the leverage of the breaking strain.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-
-ALBUMEN.
-
-
-IN order to illustrate some of the changes which take place in the
-cooking of animal food, I will first take the simple case of cooking
-an egg by means of hot water. These changes are in this case easily
-visible and very simple, although the egg itself contains all the
-materials of a complete animal. Bones, muscles, viscera, brain, nerves,
-and feathers of the chicken—all are produced from the egg, nothing
-being added, and little or nothing taken away.
-
-I should, however, add that in eating an egg we do not get _quite_
-so much of it as the chicken does. Liebig found by analysis that in
-the white and the yolk there is a deficiency of mineral matter for
-supplying the bones of the chick, and that this deficiency is supplied
-by some of the shell being dissolved by the phosphoric acid which is
-formed inside the egg by the combination of the oxygen of the air
-(which passes through the shell) with the phosphorus contained in the
-soft matter of the egg.
-
-By comparing the shell of a hen’s egg after the chicken is hatched from
-it with that of a freshly-laid egg, the difference of thickness may be
-easily seen.
-
-When we open a raw egg, we find enveloped in a stoutish membrane
-a quantity of glairy, slimy, viscous, colourless fluid, which, as
-everybody now knows, is called _albumen_, a Latin translation of
-its common name, ‘_the white_.’ Within the white of the egg is the
-yolk, chiefly composed of albumen, but with some other constituents
-added—notably a peculiar oil. At present I will only consider the
-changes which cookery effects on the main constituent of the egg,
-merely adding that this same albumen is one of the most important, if
-not the one most important, material of animal food, and is represented
-by a corresponding nutritious constituent in vegetables.
-
-We all know that when an egg has been immersed during a few minutes in
-boiling water, the colourless, slimy liquid is converted into the white
-solid to which it owes its name. This coagulation of albumen is one of
-the most decided and best understood changes effected by cookery, and
-therefore demands especial study.
-
-Place some fresh, raw white of egg in a test-tube or other suitable
-glass vessel, and in the midst of it immerse the bulb of a thermometer.
-(Cylindrical thermometers, with the degrees marked on the glass stem,
-are made for such laboratory purposes.) Place the tube containing the
-albumen in a vessel of water, and gradually heat this. When the albumen
-attains a temperature of about 134° Fahr., white fibres will begin to
-appear within it; these will increase until about 160° is attained,
-when the whole mass will become white and nearly opaque.[2] It is now
-coagulated, and may be called solid. Now examine some of the result,
-and you will find that the albumen thus only just coagulated is a
-tender, delicate, jelly-like substance, having every appearance to
-sight, touch, and taste of being easily digestible. This is the case.
-
-Having settled these points, proceed with the experiment by heating the
-remainder of the albumen (or a new sample) up to 212°, and keeping it
-for awhile at this temperature. It will dry, shrink, and become horny.
-If the heat is carried a little further, it becomes converted into a
-substance which is so hard and tough that a valuable cement is obtained
-by simply smearing the edges of the article to be cemented with white
-of egg, and then heating it to a little above 212°.[3]
-
-This simple experiment teaches a great deal of what is but little known
-concerning the philosophy of cookery. It shows in the first place that,
-so far as the coagulation of the albumen is concerned, the cooking
-temperature is not 212°, or that of boiling water, but 160°, _i.e._
-52° below it. Everybody knows the difference between a tender, juicy
-steak, rounded or plumped out in the middle, and a tough, leathery
-abomination, that has been so cooked as to shrivel and curl up. The
-contraction, drying up, and hornifying of the albumen in the test tube
-represents the albumen of the latter, while the tender, delicate,
-trembling, semi-solid that was coagulated at 160°, represents the
-albumen in the first.
-
-But this is a digression, or rather anticipation, seeing that the
-grilling of a beefsteak is a problem of profound complexity that we
-cannot solve until we have mastered the rudiments. We have not yet
-determined how to practically apply the laws of albumen coagulation as
-discovered by our test-tube experiment to the cooking of a breakfast
-egg. The non-professional student may do this at the breakfast
-fireside. The apparatus required is a saucepan large enough for boiling
-a pint of water—the materials, two eggs.
-
-Cook one in the orthodox manner by keeping it in boiling water
-three-and-a-half minutes. Then place the other in this same boiling
-water; but, instead of keeping the saucepan over the fire, place it on
-the hearth and leave it there, with the egg in it, about ten minutes
-or more. A still better way of making the comparative experiment is to
-use, for the second egg, a water-bath, or _bain-marie_ of the French
-cook—a vessel immersed in boiling, or nearly boiling water, like a
-glue-pot, and therefore not quite so hot as its source of heat. In this
-case a thermometer should be used, and the water surrounding the egg
-be kept at or near 180° Fahr. Time of immersion about ten or twelve
-minutes.
-
-A comparison of results will show that the egg that has been cooked
-at a temperature of more than 30° below the boiling-point of water is
-tender and delicate, evenly so throughout, no part being hard while
-another part is semi-raw and slimy.
-
-I said ‘ten minutes or more,’ because, when thus cooked, a prolonged
-exposure to the hot water does no mischief; if the temperature of 160°
-is not exceeded, it may remain twice as long without hardening. The
-180° is above-named because the rising of the temperature of the egg
-itself is due to the difference between its own temperature and that
-of the water, and when that difference is very small, this takes place
-very slowly, besides which the temperature of the water is, of course,
-lowered in raising that of the cold egg.
-
-In order to test this principle severely, I made the following
-experiment. At 10.30 P.M. I placed a new-laid egg in a covered
-stoneware jar, of about one-pint capacity, and filled this with boiling
-water; then wrapped the jar in many folds of flannel—so many that,
-with the egg, they filled a hat-case, in which I placed the bundle and
-left it there until breakfast-time next morning, ten hours later. On
-unrolling, I found the water cooled down to 95°; the yolk of the egg
-was hard, but the white only just solidified and much softer than the
-yolk. On repeating the experiment, and leaving the egg in its flannel
-coating for four hours, the temperature of the water was 123° and the
-egg in similar condition—the white cooked in perfection, delicately
-tender, but the yolk too hard. A third experiment of twelve hours,
-water at 200° on starting, gave a similar result as regards the state
-of the egg.
-
-I thus found that the yolk coagulates firmly at a lower temperature
-than the white. Whether this is due to a different condition of the
-albumen itself or to the action of the other constituents on the
-albumen, requires further research to determine. The albumen of the
-yolk has received the name of ‘vitellin,’ and is usually described as
-another variety differing from that of the white, as it is differently
-affected by chemical reagents; but Lehmann[4] regards it as a mixture
-of albumen and casein, and describes experiments which justify his
-conclusion. The difference of the temperature of coagulation does not
-appear to have been observed, and I cannot understand how the admixture
-of casein can effect it.
-
-When eggs are cooked in the ordinary way, the 3½ minutes’ immersion
-is insufficient to allow the heat to pass fully to the middle of the
-egg, and therefore the white is subjected to a higher temperature than
-the yolk. In my experiment there was time for a practically uniform
-diffusion of the heat throughout.
-
-I shall describe hereafter what is called the ‘Norwegian’ cooking
-apparatus, wherein fowls, &c., are cooked as the eggs were in my
-hat-case.
-
-Albumen exists in flesh as one of its juices, rather than in a
-definitely-organised condition. It is distributed between the fibres of
-the lean (_i.e._ the muscles), and it lubricates the tissues generally,
-besides being an important constituent of the blood itself—of that
-portion of the blood which remains liquid when the blood is dead—_i.e._
-the serum. As blood is not an ordinary article of food, excepting in
-the form of ‘black puddings,’ its albumen need not be here considered,
-nor the debated question of whether its albumen is identical with the
-albumen of the flesh.
-
-Existing thus in a liquid state in our ordinary flesh meats, it is
-liable to be wasted in the course of cookery, especially if the cook
-has only received the customary technical education and remains in
-technological ignorance.
-
-To illustrate this, let us suppose that a leg of mutton, a slice of
-cod, or a piece of salmon is to be cooked in water, ‘boiled,’ as the
-cook says. Keeping in mind the results of the previously-described
-experiments on the egg-albumen, and also the fact that in its liquid
-state albumen is diffusible in water, the reader may now stand as
-scientific umpire in answering the question whether the fish or the
-flesh should be put in hot water at once, or in cold water, and be
-gradually heated. The ‘big-endians’ and the ‘little-endians’ of Liliput
-were not more definitely divided than are certain cookery authorities
-on this question in reference to fish. Referring at random to the
-cookery-books that come first to hand, I find them about equally
-divided on the question.
-
-Confining our attention at present to the albumen, what must happen
-if the fish or flesh is put in cold water, which is gradually heated?
-Obviously a loss of albumen by exudation and diffusion through the
-water, especially in the case of sliced fish or of meat exposing much
-surface of fibres cut across. It is also evident that such loss of
-albumen will be shown by its coagulation when the water is sufficiently
-heated.
-
-Practical readers will at once recognise in the ‘scum’ which rises to
-the surface of the boiling water, and in the milkiness that is more or
-less diffused throughout it, the evidence of such loss of albumen. This
-loss indicates the desirability of plunging the fish or flesh at once
-into water hot enough to immediately coagulate the superficial albumen,
-and thereby plug the pores through which the inner albuminous juice
-otherwise exudes.
-
-But this is not all. There are other juices besides the albumen; these
-are the most important of the _flavouring_ constituents, and, _with
-the other constituents of animal food_, have great nutritive value;
-so much so, that animal food is quite tasteless and almost worthless
-without them. I have laid especial emphasis on the above qualification,
-lest the reader should be led into an error originated by the bone-soup
-committee of the French Academy, and propagated widely by Liebig—that
-of regarding these juices as a concentrated nutriment when taken alone.
-
-They constitute collectively the _extractum carnis_, which, with
-the addition of more or less gelatine (the less the better), is
-commonly sold as Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat.’ It is prepared by simply
-mincing lean meat, exposing it to the action of cold water, and then
-evaporating down the solution of extract thus obtained.
-
-I shall return to this on reaching the subjects of clear soups and
-beef-tea, at present merely adding as evidence of the importance of
-retaining these juices in cooked meat, that the extracts of beef,
-mutton, and pork may be distinguished by their specific flavours. Some
-Extract of Kangaroo, sent to me many years ago from Australia by the
-Ramornie Company, made a soup that was curiously different in flavour
-from the other extract similarly prepared by the same company. Epicures
-pronounced it very choice and ‘gamey.’[5] When these juices are removed
-from the meat, mutton, beef, pork, &c., the remaining solids are all
-alike, so far as the palate alone can distinguish.
-
-Let us now apply these principles practically to the case of a leg
-of mutton. First, in order to seal the pores, the meat should be put
-into boiling water; the water should be kept boiling for five or ten
-minutes. A coating of firmly-coagulated albumen will thus envelop
-the joint. Now, instead of boiling or ‘simmering’ the water, set the
-saucepan aside, where the water will retain a temperature of about
-180°, or 32° below the boiling-point. Continue this about half as long
-again, or double the usual time given in the cookery-books for boiling
-a leg of mutton, and try the effect. It will be analogous to that of
-the egg cooked on the same principles, and appreciated accordingly.
-
-The usual addition of salt to the water is very desirable. It has a
-threefold action: first, it directly acts on the superficial albumen
-with coagulating effect; second, it slightly raises the boiling-point
-of the water; and third, by increasing the density of the water, the
-‘exosmosis’ or oozing out of the juices is less active. These actions
-are slight, but all co-operate in keeping in the juices.
-
-I should add that a leg of mutton for boiling should be fresh, and not
-‘hung’ as for roasting. The reasons for this hereafter.
-
-‘Please, mum, the fish would break to pieces,’ would be the probable
-reply of the unscientific cook, to whom her mistress had suggested
-the desirability of cooking fish in accordance with the principles
-expounded above. Many kinds of fish would thus break if the popular
-notions of ‘boiling’ were carried out, and the fish suddenly immersed
-in water that was agitated by the act of ebullition. But this
-difficulty vanishes when the true theory of cookery is understood and
-practically applied by cooking the fish from beginning to end without
-ever boiling the water at all.
-
-In the case of the leg of mutton, chosen as a previous example, the
-plunging in boiling water and maintenance of boiling-point for a few
-minutes was unobjectionable, as the most effectual means of obtaining
-the firm coagulation of a superficial layer of albumen; but, in the
-case of fragile fish, this advantage can only be obtained in a minor
-degree by using water just below the boiling-point; the breaking of
-the fish by the agitation of the boiling water does more than merely
-disfigure it when served—it opens outlets to the juices, and thereby
-depreciates the flavour, besides sacrificing some of the nutritious
-albumen.
-
-To demonstrate this experimentally, take two equal slices from the same
-salmon, cook one according to Mrs. Beeton and other authorities by
-putting it into cold water, or pouring cold water over it, then heating
-up to the boiling-point. Cook the other slice by putting it into
-water nearly boiling (about 200° Fahr.), and keeping it at about 180°
-to 200°, but never boiling at all. Then dish up, examine, and taste.
-The second will be found to have retained more of its proper salmon
-colour and flavour; the first will be paler and more like cod, or other
-white fish, owing to the exosmosis or oozing out of its characteristic
-juices. When two similar pieces of split salmon are thus cooked, the
-difference between them is still more remarkable. I should add that the
-practice of splitting salmon for boiling, once so fashionable, is now
-nearly obsolete, and justly so.
-
-I was surprised, and at first considerably puzzled, at what I saw of
-salmon-cooking in Norway. As this fish is so abundant there (1_d._ per
-lb. would be regarded as a high price in the Tellemark), I naturally
-supposed that large experience, operating by natural selection, would
-have evolved the best method of cooking it, but found that, not only in
-the farmhouses of the interior, but at such hotels as the ‘Victoria,’
-in Christiania, the usual cookery was effected by cutting the fish
-into small pieces and soddening it in water in such wise that it came
-to table almost colourless, and with merely a faint suggestion of what
-we prize as the rich flavour of salmon. A few months’ experience and
-a little reflection solved the problem. Salmon is so rich, and has so
-special a flavour, that when daily eaten it soon palls on the palate.
-Everybody has heard the old story of the clause in the indentures of
-the Aberdeen apprentices, binding the masters not to feed the boys on
-salmon more frequently than twice a week. If the story is not true it
-ought to be, for full meals of salmon every day would, ere long, render
-the special flavour of this otherwise delicious fish quite sickening.
-
-By boiling out the rich oil of the salmon, the Norwegian reduces it
-nearly to the condition of cod-fish, concerning which I learned a
-curious fact from two old Doggerbank fishermen, with whom I had a
-long sailing cruise from the Golden Horn to the Thames. They agreed
-in stating that cod-fish is like bread, that they and all their mates
-lived upon it (and sea-biscuits) day after day for months together,
-and never tired, while richer fish ultimately became repulsive if
-eaten daily. This statement was elicited by an immediate experience.
-We were in the Mediterranean, where bonetta were very abundant, and
-every morning and evening I amused myself by spearing them from
-the martingale of the schooner, and so successfully that all hands
-(or rather mouths) were abundantly supplied with this delicious
-dark-fleshed, full-blooded, and high-flavoured fish. I began by making
-three meals a day on it, but at the end of about a week was glad to
-return to the ordinary ship’s fare of salt junk and chickens.
-
-The following account of an experiment of Count Rumford’s is very
-interesting and instructive. He says: ‘I had long suspected that it
-could hardly be possible that precisely the temperature of 212° (that
-of boiling water) should be that which is best adapted for cooking _all
-sorts of food_; but it was the unexpected result of an experiment that
-I made with another view which made me particularly attentive to this
-subject. Desirous of finding out whether it would be possible to roast
-meat on a machine that I had contrived for drying potatoes, and fitted
-up in the kitchen of the House of Industry at Munich, I put a shoulder
-of mutton into it, and after attending to the experiment three hours,
-and finding that it showed no signs of being done, I concluded that the
-heat was not sufficiently intense, and despairing of success I went
-home, rather out of humour at my ill success, and abandoned my shoulder
-of mutton to the cookmaids.
-
-‘It being late in the evening and the cookmaids thinking, perhaps, that
-the meat would be as safe in the drying machine as anywhere else, left
-it there all night. When they came in the morning to take it away,
-intending to cook it for their dinner, they were much surprised at
-finding it _already cooked_, and not merely eatable, but perfectly well
-done, and most singularly well tasted. This appeared to them the more
-miraculous, as the fire under the machine was quite gone out before
-they left the kitchen in the evening to go to bed, and as they had
-locked up the kitchen when they left it, and taken away the key.
-
-‘This wonderful shoulder of mutton was immediately brought to me in
-triumph, and though I was at no great loss to account for what had
-happened, yet it certainly was quite unexpected; and when I tasted the
-meat I was very much surprised indeed to find it very different, both
-in taste and flavour, from any I had ever tasted. It was perfectly
-tender; but though it was so much done it did not appear to be in the
-least sodden or insipid; on the contrary, it was uncommonly savoury and
-high flavoured.’
-
-What I have already explained concerning the coagulation of albumen
-will render this result fairly intelligible. It will be still more
-so after what follows concerning the effect of heat on the other
-constituents of a shoulder of mutton.
-
-The Norwegian cooking apparatus, to which I have already alluded,
-and which is now commercially supplied in England, does its work
-in a somewhat similar manner. It consists of an inner tin pot with
-well-fitting lid, which fits into a box, having a thick lining of
-ill-conducting material—such as felt, wool, or sawdust (it should be
-two or three inches thick bottom and sides). A fowl, for example,
-is put into the tin, which is then filled up with boiling water and
-covered with a close-fitting cover lined like the box, and firmly
-strapped down. This may be left for ten or twelve hours, when the fowl
-will be found most delicately cooked. For yachtsmen and ‘camping-out’
-parties, &c., it is a very luxurious apparatus.
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[2] Tarchnoff has recently discovered the curious fact that the
-white of the eggs of birds that are hatched without feathers remains
-transparent when coagulated, while the eggs which produce chickens
-and other birds already fledged become opaque when coagulated. This
-is familiarly illustrated by the difference between plovers’ eggs and
-hens’ eggs when cooked.
-
-[3] ‘Egg-cement,’ made by thickening white of egg with finely-powdered
-quicklime, has long been used for mending alabaster, marble, &c. For
-joining fragments of fossils and mineralogical specimens, it will be
-found very useful. White of egg alone may be used, if carefully heated
-afterwards.
-
-[4] _Physiological Chemistry_, vol. ii. p. 356.
-
-[5] It was given to me in 1868. I have just found that some of
-it remains unused (December 1884), and that it still retains its
-characteristic flavour.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT.
-
-
-GELATIN is a very important element of animal food; it is, in fact, the
-main constituent of the animal tissues, the walls of the cells of which
-animals are built up being composed of gelatin. I will not here discuss
-the question of whether Haller’s remark, ‘Dimidium corporis humani
-gluten est’ (‘half of the human body is gelatin’), should or should
-not now, as Lehmann says, ‘be modified to the assertion that half of
-the solid parts of the animal body _are convertible, by boiling with
-water_, into gelatin.’ Lehmann and others give the name of ‘glutin’ to
-the component of the animal tissue as it exists there, and gelatin to
-it when acted upon by boiling water. Others indicate this difference by
-naming the first ‘gelatin,’ and the second ‘gelatine.’
-
-The difference upon which these distinctions are based is directly
-connected with my present subject, as it is just the difference between
-the raw and the cooked material, which, as we shall presently see,
-consists mainly in solubility.
-
-Even the original or raw gelatin varies materially in this respect.
-There is a decidedly practical difference between the solubility of the
-cell-walls of a young chicken and those of an old hen. The pleasant
-fiction which describes all the pretty gelatine preparations of the
-table as ‘calf’s-foot jelly,’ is founded on the greater solubility of
-the juvenile hoof, as compared to that of the adult ox or horse, or to
-the parings of hides about to be used by the tanner. All these produce
-gelatin by boiling, the calves’ feet with comparatively little boiling.
-
-Besides these differences there are decided varieties, or, I might say,
-species of gelatin, having slight differences of chemical composition
-and chemical relations. There is _Chondrin_, or cartilage gelatin,
-which is obtained by boiling the cartilages of the ribs, larynx, or
-joints for eighteen or twenty hours in water. Then there is _Fibroin_,
-obtained by boiling spiders’ webs and the silk of silkworms or other
-caterpillars. These exist as a liquid inside the animal, which
-solidifies on exposure. The fibres of sponge contain this modification
-of gelatin.
-
-Another kind is _Chitin_, which constituted the animal food of St. John
-the Baptist, when he fed upon locusts and wild honey. It is the basis
-of the bodily structure of insects; of the spiral tubes which permeate
-them throughout, and are so wonderfully displayed when we examine
-insect anatomy by aid of the microscope; also of their intestinal
-canal, their external skeleton, scales, hairs, &c. It similarly forms
-the true skeleton and bodily framework of crabs, lobsters, shrimps, and
-other crustacea, bearing the same relation to their shells, muscles,
-&c., that ordinary gelatin does to the bones and softer tissues of the
-vertebrata; it is ‘the bone of their bones, and the flesh of their
-flesh.’ It is obtainable by boiling these creatures down, but is more
-difficult of solution than the ordinary gelatin of beef, mutton,
-fish, and poultry. To this difficulty of solution in the stomach, the
-nightmare that follows lobster suppers is probably attributable.
-
-I once had an experience of the edibility of the shells of a
-crustacean. When travelling, I always continue the pursuit of knowledge
-in restaurants by ordering anything that appears on the bill of fare
-that I have never heard of before, or cannot translate or pronounce.
-At a Neapolitan restaurant I found ‘_Gambero di Mare_’ on the _Carta_,
-which I translated ‘Leggy things of the sea,’ or sea-creepers, and
-ordered them accordingly. They proved to be shrimps fried in their
-shells, and were very delicious—like whitebait, but richer. The chitin
-of the shells was thus cooked to crispness, and no evil consequences
-followed. If reduced to locusts, I should, if possible, cook them in
-the same manner, and, as they have similar chemical composition, they
-would doubtless be equally good.
-
-Should any epicurean reader desire to try this dish (the shrimps, I
-mean), he should fry them as they come from the sea, not as they are
-sold by the fishmonger, these being already boiled in salt water;
-usually in sea water by the shrimpers who catch them, the chitin being
-indurated thereby.
-
-The introduction of fried and tinned locusts as an epicurean delicacy
-would be a boon to suffering humanity, by supplying industrial
-compensation to the inhabitants of districts subject to periodical
-plagues of locust invasion. The idea of eating them appears repulsive
-_at first_, so would that of eating such creepy-crawly things
-as shrimps, if no adventurous hero had made the first exemplary
-experiment. Chitin is chitin, whether elaborated on the land or
-secreted in the sea. The vegetarian locust and the cicala are free from
-the pungent essential oils of the really unpleasant cockchafer.
-
-That curious epicurean food, the edible birds’-nests, which has been
-a subject of much controversy concerning its composition, is commonly
-described as a delicate kind of gelatin. This does not appear to be
-quite correct. It is certainly gelatinous in its mechanical properties,
-but it more nearly resembles the material of the slime and organic
-tissue of snails, a substance to which the name of _mucin_ has been
-given. Thus the birds’-nest soup of the East and the snail soup of
-the West are nearly allied, and that made from callipash and callipee
-supplies an intermediate reptilian link.
-
-The birds’-nests, when cleaned for cooking, are entirely composed of
-the dried saliva of swallows, or rather swiftlets (_collocalia_), and
-this saliva probably contains some amount of digestive ferment or
-pepsin, which may render it more digestible than the vulgar product
-from shin of beef, and consequently more acceptable to feeble epicures.
-Those who have sufficient vital energy to supply their own saliva will
-probably prefer the vulgar concoction to the costly secretion. The bird
-saliva sells for its own weight in silver, when freed from adhering
-impurities.[6]
-
-Those who are disposed to bow too implicitly to mere authority
-in scientific matters will do well to study the history and the
-treatment which gelatin has received from some of the highest of these
-authorities. Our grandmothers believed it to be highly nutritious,
-prepared it in the form of jellies for invalids, and estimated the
-nutritive value of their soups by the consistency of the jelly which
-they formed on cooling, which thickness is due to the gelatin they
-contain. Isinglass, which is simply the swim-bladder of the sturgeon
-and similar fishes cut into shreds, was especially esteemed, and sold
-at high prices. This is the purest natural form of gelatin.
-
-Everybody believed that the callipash and callipee of the alderman’s
-turtle soup contributed largely to his proverbial girth, and those
-who could not afford to pay for the gelatin of the reptile, made mock
-turtle from the gelatinous tissues of calves’-heads and pigs’-feet.
-
-About fifty or sixty years ago, the French Academy of Sciences
-appointed a bone-soup commission, consisting of some of the most
-eminent _savants_ of the period. They worked for above ten years upon
-the problem submitted to them, that of determining whether or not the
-soup made by boiling bones until only their mineral matter remained
-solid, is, or is not, a nutritious food for the inmates of hospitals,
-&c. In the voluminous report which they ultimately submitted to the
-Academy, they decided in the negative.
-
-Baron Liebig became the popular exponent of their conclusions, and
-vigorously denounced gelatin, as not merely a worthless article of
-food, but as loading the system with material that demands wasteful
-effort for its removal.
-
-The Academicians fed dogs on gelatin alone, found that they speedily
-lost flesh, and ultimately died of starvation. A multitude of similar
-experiments showed that gelatin alone will not support animal life, and
-hence the conclusion that pure gelatin is worthless as an article of
-food, and that ordinary soups containing gelatin owed their nutritive
-value to their other constituents. According to the above-named report,
-and the statements of Liebig, the following, which I find on a wrapper
-of Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat,’ is justifiable: ‘This Extract of Meat
-differs essentially from the gelatinous product obtained from tendons
-and muscular fibre, inasmuch as it contains 80 per cent. of nutritive
-matter, while the other contains 4 or 5 per cent.’ Here the 4 or 5 per
-cent. allowed to exist in the ‘gelatinous product’ (_i.e._ ordinary
-kitchen stock or glaze), is attributed to the constituents it contains
-over and above the pure gelatin.
-
-The following, from a text-book largely used by medical students,[7]
-shows the estimation in which gelatin was held at that date: ‘But there
-is another azotised compound, Gelatin, that is furnished by animals,
-to which nothing analogous exists in Plants; and this is commonly
-reputed to possess highly nutritious properties. It may be confidently
-affirmed, however, as a result of experiments made upon a large scale,
-that Gelatin is incapable of being converted into Albumen in the animal
-body, so that it cannot be applied to the nutrition of the albuminous
-tissues. And, although it might _à priori_ be thought not unlikely
-that Gelatin, taken in as food, should be applied to the nutrition of
-the gelatinous tissues, yet neither observation nor experiment bears
-out such a probability.’ Further on, Dr. Carpenter says: ‘The use of
-gelatin as food would seem to be limited to its power of furnishing a
-certain amount of combustive material that may assist in maintaining
-the heat of the body.’
-
-Subsequent experiments, however, have refuted these conclusions. I
-must not be tempted to describe them in detail, but only to state the
-general results, which are, that while animals fed on gelatin soup,
-formed into a soft paste with bread, lost flesh and strength rapidly,
-they recovered their original weight when to this same food only a very
-small quantity of the sapid and odorous principles of meat were added.
-Thus, in the experiments of MM. Edwards and Balzac, a young dog that
-had ceased growing, and had lost one-fifth of its original weight when
-fed on bread and gelatin for thirty days, was next supplied with the
-same food, but to which was added, twice a day, only two tablespoonfuls
-of soup made from horseflesh. There was an increase of weight on the
-first day, and, ‘in twenty-three days the dog had gained considerably
-more than its original weight, and was in the enjoyment of vigorous
-health and strength.’
-
-All this difference was due to the savoury constituents of the four
-tablespoonfuls of meat soup, which soup contained the juices of the
-flesh, to which, as already stated, its flavour is due.
-
-The inferences drawn by M. Edwards from the whole of the experiments
-are the following: ‘1. That gelatin alone is insufficient for
-alimentation. 2. That, although insufficient, it is not unwholesome. 3.
-That gelatin contributes to alimentation, and is sufficient to sustain
-it when it is mixed with a due proportion of other products which would
-themselves prove insufficient if given alone. 4. That gelatin extracted
-from bones, being identical with that extracted from other parts—and
-bones being richer in gelatin than other tissues, and able to afford
-two-thirds of their weight of it—there is an incontestable advantage in
-making them serve for nutrition in the form of soup, jellies, paste,
-&c., always, however, taking care to provide a proper admixture of
-the other principles in which the gelatin-soup is defective. 5. That
-to render gelatin-soup equal in nutritive and digestible qualities to
-that prepared from meat alone, it is sufficient _to mix one-fourth of
-meat-soup with three-fourths of gelatin-soup_; and that, in fact, no
-difference is perceptible between soup thus prepared and that made
-solely from meat. 6. That in preparing soup in this way, the great
-advantage remains, that while the soup itself is equally nourishing
-with meat-soup, three-fourths of the meat which would be requisite
-for the latter by the common process of making soup are saved and
-made useful in another way—as by roasting, &c. 7. That jellies ought
-always to be associated with some other principles to render them both
-nutritive and digestible.’[8]
-
-The reader may make a very simple experiment on himself by preparing
-first a pure gelatin-soup from isinglass, or the prepared gelatin
-commonly sold, and trying to make a meal of this with bread alone. Its
-insipidity will be evident with the first spoonful. If he perseveres,
-it will become not merely insipid, but positively repulsive; and,
-should he struggle through one meal and then another, without any other
-food between, he will find it, in the course of time (varying with
-constitution and previous alimentation), positively nauseous.
-
-Let him now add to it some of Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat,’ and he will
-at once perceive the difference. Here the natural appetite foreshadows
-the result of continuing the experiment, and points the way to
-correcting the errors of the Academicians and Baron Liebig. The jellies
-that we take at evening parties, or the jujubes used as sweetmeats, are
-flavoured with something positive. I have tasted ‘Blue-Ribbon’ jellies
-that were wretchedly insipid. This was not merely owing to the absence
-of alcohol, of which very little can remain in such preparations, but
-rather to the absence of the flavouring ingredients of the wine.
-
-I venture to suggest the further, deliberate, and scientific extension
-of this principle, by adding to bone-soup, or other form of insipid
-gelatin, the potash, salts, phosphates, &c., which are found in the
-juices of meat and vegetables. They may either be prepared in the
-manufacturing laboratory, like Parrish’s ‘Chemical Food,’ or ‘Syrup
-of phosphates,’ or extracted from fruits, as commercial limejuice is
-extracted. I recommend those who are interested to manufacture and
-offer for sale a good preparation of limejuice gelatin.
-
-It would seem that gelatin alone, although containing the elements
-required for nutrition, requires something more to render it
-digestible. We shall probably be not far from the truth if we picture
-it to the mind as something too smooth, too neutral, too inert, to
-set the digestive organs at work, and that it therefore requires
-the addition of a decidedly sapid something that shall make these
-organs act. I believe that the proper function of the palate is to
-determine our selection of such materials; that its activity is in
-direct sympathy with that of all the digestive organs; and that if we
-carefully avoid the vitiation of our natural appetites, we have in our
-mouths, and the nervous apparatus connected therewith, a laboratory
-that is capable of supplying us with information concerning some of the
-chemical relations of food which is beyond the grasp of the analytical
-machinery of the ablest of our scientific chemists.
-
-What is the chemistry of the cookery of gelatin? What are the chemical
-changes effected by cookery upon gelatin? Or, otherwise stated, what
-is the chemical difference or differences between cooked and raw
-gelatin? I find no satisfactory answer to these questions in any of
-our text-books, and therefore will do what I can towards supplying my
-own solution of the problem.
-
-In the first place, it should be understood that raw gelatin, or animal
-membrane as it exists in its organised condition, is not soluble in
-cold water, and not immediately in hot water. Genuine isinglass is the
-membrane of the swim-bladder of the sturgeon (that of other fishes is
-said to be sometimes substituted). In its unprepared form it is not
-easily dissolved, but if soaked in water, especially in warm water,
-for some time, it swells. The same with other forms of membrane. This
-swelling I regard as the first stage of the cookery. On examination,
-I find that it is not only increased in bulk but also in weight, and
-that the increase of weight is due to some water that it has taken
-into itself. Here, then, we have crude gelatin plus water, or hydrated
-gelatin. Proceeding further, by boiling this until it all dissolves,
-and then allowing it to harden by very slow evaporation, I find that it
-still contains some of its acquired water, and that I cannot drive away
-this newly-acquired water without destroying some of its characteristic
-properties—its solubility and gluey character. Before returning to its
-original weight as crude isinglass, it becomes somewhat carbonised.
-
-Hence, I infer that the cookery of gelatin consists in converting the
-original membrane more or less completely into a hydrate of its former
-self. According to this, the ‘prepared gelatin’ sold in the shops is
-hydrated gelatin, completely hydrated, seeing that it is completely and
-readily soluble.
-
-The membranes of our ordinary cooked meat are, if I am right, partially
-hydrated, in varying degrees, and thereby prepared for solution in
-the course of digestion. The varying degrees are illustrated by the
-differences in a knuckle of veal or a calf’s head, according to the
-length of time during which it has been stewed, _i.e._ subjected to the
-hydrating process.
-
-The second stage of the cookery of gelatin is the solution of this
-hydrate, as in soups, &c.
-
-Carpenters’ glue is crude hydrated gelatin, made by stewing or
-hydrating hoofs of horses, cattle, &c., or the waste cuttings of hides.
-The carpenter knows that if he allows his solution of glue to boil
-(such a solution boils at a higher temperature than pure water), it
-loses its tenacity, becomes cindery, or, as I should say, dehydrated
-or dissociated, without returning to the original condition of the
-organised membranes.
-
-Even a frequent reheating at the glue-pot temperature ‘weakens’ the
-glue, and therefore he prefers fresh glue, and puts but a little at a
-time into his glue-pot.
-
-The applications of this theory will appear as I proceed.
-
-A sheep or an ox, a fowl or a rabbit, is made up, like ourselves, of
-organic structures and blood, the organs continually wasting as they
-work, and being renewed by the blood; or, otherwise described, the
-component molecules of these organs are continually dying of old age as
-their work is done, and replaced by new-born successors generated by
-the blood.
-
-These molecules are, for the most part, cellular, each cell living
-a little life of its own, generated with a definite individuality,
-doing its own life-work, then shrivelling in decay, dying in the midst
-of vital surroundings, suffering cremation, and thereby contributing
-to the animal heat necessary for the life of its successors, and
-even giving up a portion of its substance to supply them with
-absorption-food. The cell walls are mainly composed of gelatin, or
-the substance which produces gelatin, as already explained, while the
-contents of the cell are albuminous matter or fat, or the special
-constituents of the particular organ it composes. A description of
-all these constituents would carry me too far into details. I must,
-therefore, only refer to those which constitute the bulk of animal
-food, and which are altered in the process of cooking.
-
-In the lean of meat, _i.e._ the muscles of the animal, we have the
-albuminous juices already described, the gelatinous membranes, sheaths,
-and walls of the muscle fibre, and the fibre itself. This is composed
-of _muscle-fibrin_, or _syntonin_, as Lehmann has named it. Living
-blood consists of a complex liquid, in which are suspended a multitude
-of minute cells, some red, others colourless. When the blood is removed
-and dies, it clots or partially solidifies, and is found to contain
-a network of extremely fine fibre, to which the name of _fibrin_ is
-applied. A similar change takes place in the substance of the muscle
-after death. It stiffens, and this stiffening, or _rigor mortis_, is
-effected by the formation of a clot analogous to the coagulation of the
-blood.
-
-The chief difference between blood-fibrin and muscle-fibrin or
-syntonin is, that the latter is readily soluble in water, to which
-only 1/1000 of hydrochloric acid has been added, while in such a
-solution blood-fibrin only becomes swollen. If the gastric juice
-contains a little free hydrochloric acid, this difference is important
-in reference to food. I should, however, add that the existence of
-such free acid in the human gastric juice is disputed, especially by
-Gruenewaldt and Schroeder.
-
-The conflict of able chemists on this point and others concerning the
-composition of this fluid leads me to suppose that the secretions
-of the human stomach vary with the food habitually taken; that
-flesh-eaters acquire a gastric juice similar to that of carnivorous
-animals, while vegetable feeders are supplied with digestive solvents
-more suitable to their food.
-
-This idea is supported by the testimony of rigid vegetarians. They tell
-me that at first the pure vegetarian diet did not appear to satisfy
-them, but after a while it became as sustaining as their former food.
-This is explained if, in consequence of the modification of the gastric
-and other digestive juices, the vegetarian food became more completely
-digested after vegetarian habits became established.
-
-The properties of fibrin, so far as cookery is concerned, place it
-between albumen and gelatin; it is coagulable like albumen, and soluble
-like gelatin, but in a minor degree. Like gelatin, it is tasteless and
-non-nutritious _alone_. This has been proved by feeding animals on
-lean meat, which has been cut up and subjected to the action of cold
-water, which dissolves out the albumen and other juices of the flesh,
-and leaves only the muscular fibre and its envelopes. The experiment
-has been made in laboratories, and also on a larger scale in Australia,
-where the lean beef from which the ‘Extract of Meat’ had been taken out
-by cold water was given to dogs, pigs, and other animals; but, after
-taking a few mouthfuls, they all rejected it, and suffered starvation
-when it was forced upon them without other food.
-
-The same is the case with the spontaneously coagulated fibrin of the
-blood; it is, when washed, a yellowish opaque fibrous mass, without
-smell or taste, insoluble in cold water, alcohol, or ether, but
-imperfectly soluble if digested for a considerable time in hot water.
-
-The following is the chemical composition of these three constituents
-of lean meat, according to Mulder:
-
- +-----------+---------+----------+--------+
- | -- | Albumen | Gelatine | Fibrin |
- +-----------+---------+----------+--------+
- |Carbon | 53·5 | 50·40 | 52·7 |
- |Hydrogen | 7·0 | 6·64 | 6·9 |
- |Nitrogen | 15·5 | 18·34 | 15·4 |
- |Oxygen | 22·0 | 24·62 | 23·5 |
- |Sulphur | 1·6 | -- | 1·2 |
- |Phosphorus | 0·4 | -- | 0·3 |
- | +---------+----------+--------+
- | | 100·0 | 100·00 | 100·0 |
- +-----------+---------+----------+--------+
-
-There are two other constituents of lean meat which are very different
-from either of these, viz. _Kreatine_ and _Kreatinine_, otherwise
-spelled ‘creatine’ and ‘creatinine.’ They exist in the juice of
-the flesh, and are freely soluble in cold or hot water, from which
-solution they may be crystallised by evaporating the solvent, just as
-we may crystallise common salt, alum, &c. They thus have a resemblance
-to mineral substances, and still more so to some of the active
-constituents of plants, such as the alkaloids _theine_ and _caffeine_,
-upon which depend the stimulating or ‘refreshing’ properties of tea and
-coffee. Like these, they are highly nitrogenous, and many theories have
-been based upon this, both as regards their exceptionally nutritious
-properties and their functions in the living muscle. One of these
-theories is that they are the dead matter of muscle, the first and
-second products of the combustion which accompanies muscular work, urea
-being the final product. According to this their relation to the muscle
-is exactly the opposite of that of the albuminous juice, this being
-probably the material from which the muscle is built up or renewed. The
-following is their composition, according to Liebig’s analyses, and
-does not support this hypothesis:
-
- +----------+----------+------------+
- | -- | Kreatine | Kreatinine |
- +----------+----------+------------+
- | Carbon | 36·64 | 42·48 |
- | Hydrogen | 6·87 | 6·19 |
- | Nitrogen | 32·06 | 37·17 |
- | Oxygen | 24·43 | 14·16 |
- | +----------+------------+
- | | 100·00 | 100·00 |
- +----------+----------+------------+
-
-They appear to undergo no change in cooking unless excessively heated;
-may be used uncooked, as in cold-drawn extract of meat.
-
-The juices of lean flesh also contain a little lactic acid—the acid
-of milk—but this does not appear to be an absolutely essential
-constituent. Besides these there are mineral salts of considerable
-nutritive importance, though small in quantity. These, with the
-kreatine and kreatinine, are the chief constituents of beef-tea
-properly so-called, and will be further treated when I come to that
-preparation. At present it is sufficient to keep in view the fact that
-these juices are essential to complete the nutritive value of animal
-food.
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[6] The following, from Francatelli’s _Modern Cook_, is amusing, if
-not instructive: ‘Take two dozen garden snails, add to these the hind
-quarters only of two dozen stream frogs, previously skinned; bruise
-them together in a mortar, after which put them into a stewpan with a
-couple of turnips chopped small, a little salt, a quarter of an ounce
-of hay-saffron, and three pints of spring water. Stir these on the fire
-until the broth begins to boil, then skim it well and set it by the
-side of the fire to simmer for half an hour; after which it should be
-strained, by pressure through a tammy cloth, into a basin for use. This
-broth, from its soothing qualities, often counteracts, successfully,
-the straining effects of a severe cough, and alleviates, more than any
-other culinary preparation, the sufferings of the consumptive.’
-
-[7] Carpenter’s _Manual of Physiology_, 3rd edition, 1846, p. 267.
-
-[8] Londe, _Nouveaux Éléments d’Hygiène_, 2nd edition, vol. ii. p. 73.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-ROASTING AND GRILLING.
-
-
-I MAY now venture to state my own view of a somewhat obscure
-subject—viz. the difference between the roasting or grilling of meat
-and the stewing of meat. It appears to me that, as regards the nature
-of the operation, it consists simply in the difference between the
-cooking media; that a grilled steak or chop, or a roasted joint is meat
-that has been stewed in its own juices instead of stewed in water; that
-in both cases the changes taking place in the _solid_ parts of the meat
-are the same in kind, provided always that the roasting or grilling is
-properly performed. The albumen is coagulated in all cases, and the
-gelatinous and fibrous tissues are softened by being heated in a liquid
-solvent. I shall presently apply this definition in distinguishing
-between good and bad cookery.
-
-In the roasted or grilled meat the juices are retained in the meat
-(with the exception of those which escape as gravy on the dish), while
-in stewing the juices go more or less completely into the water, and
-the loosening of the fibres and solution of the gelatin and fibrin may
-be carried further, inasmuch as a larger quantity of solvent is used.
-
-Roasting and grilling may be regarded as our national methods of flesh
-cookery, and stewing in water that of our continental neighbours.
-The difference between the flavour of English roast beef and French
-_bouilli_ or Italian _manzo_ is due to the retention or the removal
-of the saline and highly-flavoured soluble materials. (Concentrated
-kreatine and kreatinine are pungently sapid.) The Frenchman takes
-them out of his _bouilli_, or boiled meat, and transfers them to his
-_bouillon_, or soup, which, with him, is an essential element of a
-meal. If he ate his meat without soup, he would be like the dogs fed
-on gelatin by the bone-soup commissioners. To the Englishman, with
-his roast or grilled meat, soup is merely a luxury, not an absolutely
-necessary element of a complete dietary.
-
-What we call boiled meat, as a boiled leg of mutton or round of beef,
-is an intermediate preparation. The heat is here communicated by water,
-and the juices partially retained.
-
-Not only do we, in roasting and grilling our meat, keep the juices
-within it, but we concentrate them considerably by evaporating away
-_some_ of the water by which they are naturally diluted. This is my
-explanation of the _rationale_ of the chief difference between boiled
-meat and roasted or grilled meat. A further difference—that due to
-browning—is discussed in the chapter on Frying. Those accustomed to
-such concentration of flavour regard the milder results of boiling as
-insipid, for, by this process and by stewing, where much water is used,
-the juices are further diluted instead of being concentrated.
-
-It is a fairly debatable question whether the simplicity of taste which
-finds satisfaction in the milder diet is better and more desirable than
-the appetite for strong meat. The difference has some analogy to that
-between the thirst for light wine and that for stiff grog.
-
-The application of the principles above expounded to the processes of
-grilling and roasting is simple enough. As the meat is to be stewed
-in its own juices, it is evident that these juices must be retained
-as completely as possible, and that in order to succeed in this, we
-have to struggle with the evaporating energy of the ‘dry heat’ which
-effects the cookery, and may not only concentrate the juices by driving
-off some of their solvent water, but may volatilise or decompose the
-flavouring principles themselves. We must always remember that these
-organic compounds are very unstable, most of them being decomposed when
-raised to a temperature above the boiling-point of water. The repulsive
-energy of heat drives apart or ‘dissociates’ their loosely-combined
-elements, and when thus wholly or partially dissociated, all the
-characteristic properties of the original compound vanish, and others
-take their place.
-
-It should be clearly understood that the so-called ‘dry heat’ may be
-communicated by convection or by radiation, or both. When water is
-the heating medium, there is convection only—_i.e._ heating by actual
-contact with the heated body. In roasting and grilling there is also
-some convection-heating due to the hot air which actually touches the
-meat; but this is a very small element of efficiency, the work being
-chiefly done, when well done, by the heat which is radiated from the
-fire directly to the surface of the meat, and which, in the case of
-roasting in front of a fire, passes through the intervening air with
-very little heating effect thereon.
-
-I am not perpetrating any far-fetched pedantry in pointing out this
-difference, as will be understood at once by supposing a beefsteak
-to be cooked by suspending it in a chamber filled with hot dry air.
-Such air is actively thirsting for the vapour of water, and will
-take into itself, from every humid substance it touches, a quantity
-proportionate to its temperature. The steak receiving its heat by
-convection—_i.e._ the heat conveyed by such hot air, and communicated
-by contact—would be _desiccated, but not cooked_.
-
-This distinction is so important, that I will illustrate it still
-further, my chief justification for such insistence being that even
-Rumford himself evidently failed to understand it, and it has been
-generally misunderstood or neglected.
-
-Let us suppose the hot air used for convection cooking to be at the
-cooking-point, as the hot water in stewing should be, what will follow
-its application to the meat? Evaporation of the water in the juices,
-and with that evaporation a lowering of temperature at the surface of
-the meat, keeping it below the cooking-point. If the air be heated
-above this, the evaporation will go on with proportionate rapidity. As
-nearly 1,000 degrees of heat are lost _as temperature_, and converted
-into expansive force whenever and wherever evaporation of water
-occurs, the film of hot, dry air touching the meat is cooled by this
-evaporation, and sinks immediately, to be replaced by a rising film
-of lighter, hotter, and drier air. This drinks in more vapour, cools
-and sinks, to give place to another, and so on till the inner juices
-gradually ooze between the fibres to the porous surface, where they are
-carried away by the hot, dry air, and a hard, leathery, unmasticable
-mass of desiccated gelatin, albumen, fibrin, &c., is produced.
-
-Now, let us suppose a similar beefsteak to be cooked by radiant heat,
-with the least possible co-operation of convection.
-
-To effect this, our source of heat must be a good radiator. Glowing
-solids are better radiators than ordinary flames; therefore coke, or
-charcoal, or ordinary coal, after its bituminous matter has done
-its flaming, should be used, and the steak or chop may be placed in
-front or above a surface of such glowing carbon. In ordinary domestic
-practice it is placed on a gridiron above the coal, and therefore I
-will consider this case first.
-
-The object to be attained is to raise the juices of the meat throughout
-to about the temperature of 180° Fahr. as quickly as possible, in order
-that the cookery may be completed before the water of these juices
-shall have had time to evaporate excessively; therefore the meat should
-be placed as near to the surface of the glowing carbon as possible. But
-the practical housewife will say that, if placed within two or three
-inches, some of the fat will be melted and burn, and then the steak
-will be smoked.
-
-Now, here we require a little more chemistry. There is smoking and
-smoking; smoking that produces a detestable flavour, and smoking that
-does no mischief at all beyond appearances. The flame of an ordinary
-coal fire is due to the distillation and combustion of tarry vapours.
-If such a flame strikes a comparatively cool surface like that of the
-meat, it will condense and deposit thereon a film of crude coal tar and
-coal naphtha, most nauseous and rather mischievous; but if the flame be
-that which is caused by the combustion of its own fat, the deposit on
-a mutton-chop will be a little mutton juice, on a beefsteak a little
-beef juice, more or less blackened by mutton-carbon or beef-carbon. But
-these have no other flavour than that of cooked mutton and cooked beef;
-therefore they are perfectly innocent, in spite of their black, guilty
-appearances.
-
-If any of my readers are sceptical, let them appeal to experiment by
-putting a mutton-chop to the torture, and taking its own confession.
-To do this, divide the chop in equal halves, then hold one half
-over a flaming coal, immersing it in the flame, and thus cook it.
-Now cut a bit of fat off the other, throw this fat on a surface of
-clear, glowing, flameless coal or coke, and, when a good blaze is thus
-obtained, immerse the half chop recklessly and unmercifully into _this_
-flame; there let it splutter and fizz, let it drop more fat and make
-more flame, but hold it there nevertheless for a few minutes, and then
-taste the result.
-
-In spite of its blackness, it will be (if just warmed through to
-the above-named cooking temperature) a deliciously-cooked, juicy,
-nutritious, digestible morsel, apparently raw, but actually more
-completely cooked than if it had been held twice as long, at double the
-distance, from the surface of the fire.
-
-For further instruction, make a third experiment by imitating the
-cautious unscientific cook, who, ignorant of the difference between
-the condensation products of coal and those from beef and mutton fat,
-carefully raises the gridiron directly the flame from the dropping
-fat threatens the object of her solicitude. The result will be an
-ordinary domestic chop or steak. I apply this adjective, because in
-this particular effort of cookery, the grilling of chops and steaks,
-domestic cookery is commonly at fault. The majority of our City men
-find that while the joint cooked at home is better than that they
-usually get at restaurants and hotels, the chops and steaks are
-inferior.
-
-I believe that this inferiority is due, in the first place, to the want
-of understanding of the difference between coal-flame and fat-flame;
-and in the second, to the advantage afforded to the ‘grill-room’ cook
-by his specially-constructed fire, with a large surface of glowing coke
-surmounted by a sloping grill, whereon he can expose his chops and
-steaks to a maximum of radiant heat with a minimum of convection heat;
-the hot air which passes in a current over the coke surface having such
-small depth that it barely touches the bars of the grill. (This may
-be seen by watching the course of flame produced by the droppings of
-the fat.) The same obliquity of draught prevents the serious blacking
-of the meat, which, although harmless, is unsightly and calculated to
-awaken prejudice.
-
-The high temperature rapidly imparted by radiation to the surface of
-the meat forms a thin superficial crust of hardened and semi-carbonised
-albumen and fibre, that resists the outrush of vapour, and produces
-within a certain degree of high pressure, which probably acts in
-loosening the fibres. A well-grilled chop or steak is ‘puffed’
-out—made thicker in the middle; an ill-cooked, desiccated specimen
-is shrivelled, collapsed, and thinned by the slow departure or
-dissociation of its juices.
-
-Happy little couples, living in little houses with only one little
-servant—or, happier still, with no servant at all—complain of their
-little joints of meat, which, when roasted, are so dry, as compared
-with the big succulent joints of larger households. A little reflection
-on the principles above applied to the grilling of steaks and chops
-will explain the source of this little difficulty, and show how it may
-be overcome.
-
-I will here venture upon a little of the mathematics of cookery, as
-well as its chemistry. While the weight or quantity of material in a
-joint increases with the cube of its through-measured dimensions, its
-surface only increases with their square—or, otherwise stated, we do
-not nearly double or treble the surface of a joint of given form when
-we double or treble its weight; and _vice versâ_, the less the weight,
-the greater the surface in proportion to the weight. This is obvious
-enough when we consider that we cannot cut a single lump of anything
-into halves without exposing or creating two fresh surfaces where no
-surfaces were exposed before. As the evaporation of the juices is,
-under given conditions, proportionate to the surface exposed, it is
-evident that this process of converting the inside middle into two
-outside surfaces must increase the amount of evaporation that occurs in
-roasting.
-
-What, then, is the remedy for this? It is twofold. First, to seal up
-the pores of these additional surfaces as completely as possible; and
-secondly, to diminish to the utmost the time of exposure to the dry
-air. Logically following up these principles, I arrive at a practical
-formula which will probably induce certain orthodox cooks to denounce
-me as a culinary paradoxer. It is this: That _the smaller the joint to
-be roasted, the higher the temperature to which its surface should be
-exposed_. The roasting of a small joint should, in fact, be conducted
-in nearly the same manner as the grilling of a chop or steak described
-in my last. The surface should be crusted or browned—burned, if you
-please—as speedily as possible, in such wise that the juices within
-shall be held there under high pressure, and only allowed to escape by
-burst and splutters, rather than by steady evaporation.
-
-The best way of doing this is a problem to be solved by the practical
-cook. I only expound the principles, and timidly suggest the mode of
-applying them. In a metallurgical laboratory, where I am most at home,
-I could roast a small joint beautifully by suspending it inside a large
-red-hot steel-smelter’s crucible, or, better still, in an apparatus
-called a ‘muffle,’ which is a fireclay tunnel open in front, and so
-arranged in a suitable furnace as to be easily made red-hot all
-round. A small joint placed on a dripping-pan and run into this would
-be equally heated by all-round converging radiation, and exquisitely
-roasted in the course of ten to thirty minutes, according to its size.
-Some such an apparatus has yet to be invented in order that we may
-learn the flavour and tenderness of a perfectly-roasted small joint of
-beef or mutton.
-
-For roasting large masses of meat, a different proceeding is necessary.
-Here we have to contend, not with excessive surface in proportion
-to bulk—as in the grilling of chops and steaks, and the roasting of
-small joints—but with the contrary, viz. excessive bulk in proportion
-to surface. If a baron of beef were to be treated according to my
-prescription for a steak, or for a single small wing rib, or other
-joint of three to five pounds weight, it would be charred on its
-surface long before the heat could reach its centre.
-
-A considerable time is here inevitably demanded. Of course, the
-higher the initial outside temperature, the more rapidly the heat
-will penetrate; but we cannot apply this law to a lump of meat as we
-may to a mass of iron. We may go on heating the outside of the iron
-to redness, but not so the meat. So long as the surface of the meat
-remains moist, we cannot raise it to a higher temperature than the
-boiling-point of the liquid that moistens it. Above this, charring
-commences. A little of such charring, such as occurs to the steak
-or small joint during the short period of its exposure to the great
-heat, does no harm; it simply ‘browns’ the surface; but if this were
-continued during the roasting of a large joint, a crust of positively
-black charcoal would be formed, with ruinous waste and general
-detriment.
-
-As Rumford proved long ago, liquids are very bad conductors, and when
-their circulation is prevented by confinement between fibres, as in
-the meat, the rate at which heat will travel through the humid mass is
-very slow indeed. As few of my readers are likely to fully estimate the
-magnitude of this difficulty, I will state a fact that came under my
-own observation, and at the time surprised me.
-
-About five-and-twenty years ago I was visiting a friend at Warwick
-during the ‘mop,’ or ‘statute fair’—the annual slave market of the
-county. In accordance with the old custom, an ox was roasted whole in
-the open public market-place. The spitting of the carcass and starting
-the cookery was a disgusting sight. We are accustomed to see the
-neatly-cut joints ordinarily brought to the kitchen; but the handling
-and impaling of the whole body of a huge beast by half a dozen rough
-men, while its stiffened limbs were stretching out from its trunk,
-presented the carnivorous character of our ordinary feeding very
-grossly indeed.
-
-Nevertheless I watched the process, partook of some of its result, and
-found it good. The fire was lighted before midnight, the rotation of
-the beast on the horizontal spit began shortly after, and continued
-until the following midday, all this time being necessary for the
-raising of the inner parts of the flesh to the cooking temperature of
-about 180° Fahr.
-
-Compare this with the grilling of a steak, which, when well done, is
-done in a few minutes, or the roasting of the small joint as above
-within thirty minutes, and you will see that I am justified in dwelling
-on the great differences of the two processes, and the necessity of
-very varied proceeding to meet these different conditions.
-
-The difference of time is so great that the smaller relative surface
-is insufficient to compensate for the evaporation that must occur if
-the grilling principle, or the pure and simple action of radiant heat,
-were only made available, as in the above ideal roasting of the small
-joint.
-
-What, then, is added to this? How is the desiccating difficulty
-overcome in the large-scale roasting? Simply by _basting_.
-
-All night long and all the next morning men were continuously at work
-pouring melted fat over the surface of the slowly-rotating carcass
-of the Warwick ox, skilfully directing a ladleful to any part that
-indicated undue dryness.
-
-By this device the meat is more or less completely enveloped in a
-varnish of hot melted fat, which assists in the communication of heat,
-while it checks the evaporation of the juices. In such roasting the
-heat is partially communicated by convection through the medium of a
-fat-bath, as in stewing it is all supplied by a water-bath.
-
-I have made some experiments wherein this principle is fully carried
-out. In a suitably-sized saucepan I melted a sufficient quantity of
-mutton-dripping to form a bath, wherein a small joint of mutton could
-be completely immersed. The fat was then raised to a high temperature,
-350° (as shown by Davis’ _tryometer_, presently to be described). Then
-I immersed the joint in this, keeping up the high temperature for a
-few minutes. Afterwards I allowed it to fall below 200°, and thus
-cooked the joint. It was good and juicy, though a little of the gravy
-had escaped and was found in the fat after cooling. The experiment
-was repeated with variations of temperature; the best result obtained
-when it was about 400° at the beginning, and kept up to above 200°
-afterwards. I used loins and half-legs of mutton, exposing considerable
-surface.
-
-I find that Sir Henry Thompson, in a lecture delivered at the Fisheries
-Exhibition, and now reprinted, has invaded my subject, and has done
-this so well that I shall retaliate by annexing his suggestion, which
-is that fish should be _roasted_. He says that this mode of cooking
-fish should be general, since it is applicable to all varieties. I
-fully agree with him, but go a little further in the same direction
-by including, not only roasting in a Dutch or American oven _before_
-the fire, but also in the side-ovens of kitcheners and in gas-ovens,
-which, when used as I have explained, are roasters—_i.e._ they cook by
-radiation, without any of the drying anticipated by Sir Henry.
-
-The practical housewife will probably say this is not new, seeing that
-people who know what is good have long been in the habit of enjoying
-mackerel and haddocks (especially Dublin Bay haddocks) stuffed and
-baked, and cods’ heads similarly treated. The Jews do something of
-the kind with halibut’s head, which they prize as the greatest of all
-piscine delicacies. The John Dory is commonly stuffed and cooked in an
-oven by those who understand his merits.
-
-The excellence of Sir Henry Thompson’s idea consists in its breadth as
-applicable to _all fish_, on the basis of that fundamental principle
-of scientific cookery on which I have so continually and variously
-insisted, viz. the retention and concentration of the natural juices of
-the viands.
-
-He recommends the placing of the fish entire, if of moderate size, in
-a tin or plated copper dish adapted to the form and size of the fish,
-but a little deeper than its thickness, so as to retain all the juices,
-which on exposure to the heat will flow out; the surface to be lightly
-spread with butter with a morsel or two added, and the dish placed
-before the fire in a Dutch or American oven, or the special apparatus
-made by Burton of Oxford Street, which was exhibited at the lecture.
-
-To this I may add, that if a closed oven be used, Rumford’s device
-of a false bottom, shown in Fig. 3, p. 72 (see next chapter),
-should be adopted, which may be easily done by simply standing the
-above-described fish-dish, on any kind of support to raise it a
-little, in a larger tin tray or baking-dish, containing some water.
-The evaporation of the water will prevent the drying up of the fish
-or of its natural gravy; and if the oven ventilation is treated with
-the contempt I shall presently recommend, the fish, if thick, will be
-better cooked and more juicy than in an open-faced oven in front of the
-fire.
-
-This reminds me of a method of cooking fish which, in the course of my
-pedestrian travels in Italy, I have seen practised in the rudest of
-osterias, where my fellow-guests were carbonari (charcoal burners),
-waggoners, road-making navvies, &c. Their staple ‘_magro_,’ or fast-day
-material, is split and dried codfish imported from Norway, which in
-appearance resembles the hides that are imported to the Bermondsey
-tanneries. A piece is hacked out from one of these, soaked for awhile
-in water, and carefully rolled in a piece of paper saturated with olive
-oil. A hole is then made in the white embers of the charcoal fire,
-the paper parcel of fish inserted and carefully buried in ashes of
-selected temperature. It comes out wonderfully well cooked considering
-the nature of the raw material. Luxurious cookery _en papillote_ is
-conducted on the same principle and especially applied to red mullets,
-the paper being buttered and the sauce enveloped with the fish. In all
-these cases the retention of the natural juices is the primary object.
-
-I should add that Sir Henry Thompson directs, as a matter of course,
-that the roasted fish should be served in the dish wherein it was
-cooked. He suggests that ‘portions of fish, such as fillets, may be
-treated as well as entire fish; garnishes of all kinds, as shell-fish,
-&c., may be added, flavouring also with fine herbs and condiments
-according to taste.’ ‘Fillets of plaice or skate with a slice or two of
-bacon; the dish to be filled or garnished with some previously-boiled
-haricots,’ is wisely recommended as a savoury meal for a poor man, and
-one that is highly nutritious. A chemical analysis of six-pennyworth of
-such a combination would prove its nutritive value to be equal to fully
-eighteen-pennyworth of beefsteak.
-
-Some people may be inclined to smile at what I am about to say, viz.
-that such savoury dishes, serving to vary the monotony of the poor
-hard-working man’s ordinary fare, afford considerable moral, as well as
-physical, advantage.
-
-An instructive experience of my own will illustrate this. When
-wandering alone through Norway in 1856, I lost the track in crossing
-the Kjolen fjeld, struggled on for twenty-three hours without food or
-rest, and arrived in sorry plight at Lom, a very wild region. After
-a few hours’ rest I pushed on to a still wilder region and still
-rougher quarters, and continued thus to the great Jostedal table-land,
-an unbroken glacier of 500 square miles; then descended the Jostedal
-itself to its opening on the Sogne fjord—five days of extreme hardship
-with no other food than flatbrod (very coarse oatcake), and bilberries
-gathered on the way, varied on one occasion with the luxury of two raw
-turnips. Then I reached a comparatively luxurious station (Ronnei),
-where ham and eggs and claret were obtainable. The first glass of
-claret produced an effect that alarmed me—a craving for more and for
-stronger drink, that was almost irresistible. I finished a bottle of
-St. Julien, and nothing but a violent effort of will prevented me from
-then ordering brandy.
-
-I attribute this to the exhaustion consequent upon the excessive work
-and insufficient unsavoury food of the previous five days; have made
-many subsequent observations on the victims of alcohol, and have no
-doubt that overwork and scanty, tasteless food is the primary source
-of the craving for strong drink that so largely prevails with such
-deplorable results among the class that is the most exposed to such
-privation. I do not say that this is the only source of such depraved
-appetite. It may also be engendered by the opposite extreme of
-excessive luxurious pandering to general sensuality.
-
-The practical inference suggested by this experience and these
-observations is, that speech-making, pledge-signing, and blue-ribbon
-missions can only effect temporary results unless supplemented by
-satisfying the natural appetite of hungry people by supplies of food
-that are not only nutritious, but savoury and _varied_. Such food need
-be no more expensive than that which is commonly eaten by the poorest
-of Englishmen, but it must be far better cooked.
-
-Comparing the domestic economy of the poorer classes of our countrymen
-with that of the corresponding classes in France and Italy (with
-both of which I am well acquainted), I find that the raw material of
-the dietary of the French and Italians is inferior to that of the
-English, but a far better result is obtained by better cookery.
-The Italian peasantry are better fed than the French. In the poor
-osterias above referred to, not only the Friday salt fish, but all the
-other viands, were incomparably better cooked than in corresponding
-places in England, and the variety was greater than is common in many
-middle-class houses. The ordinary supper of the ‘roughs’ above-named
-was of three courses: first, a ‘_minestra_,’ _i.e._ a soup of some
-kind, continually varied, or a savoury dish of macaroni; then a ragoût
-or savoury stew of vegetables and meat, followed by an excellent salad;
-the beverage, a flask of thin but genuine wine. When I come to the
-subject of cheese, I will describe their mode of cooking and using it.
-
-My first walk through Italy extended from the Alps to Naples, and from
-Messina to Syracuse. I thus spent nearly a year in Italy during a
-season of great abundance, and never saw a drunken Italian. A few years
-after this I walked through a part of Lombardy, and found the little
-osterias as bad as English beershops or low public-houses. It was a
-period of scarcity and trouble, ‘the three plagues,’ as they called
-them—the potato disease, the silkworm fungus, and the grape disease—had
-brought about general privation. There was no wine at all; potato
-spirit and coarse beer had taken its place. Monotonous ‘polenta,’ a
-sort of paste or porridge made from Indian corn meal, to which they
-give the contemptuous name of ‘miserabile,’ was then the general food,
-and much drunkenness was the natural consequence.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER.
-
-
-IN the third volume of his ‘Essays, Political, Economical, and
-Philosophical,’ page 129, Count Rumford introduces this subject, with
-the following apology, which I repeat and adopt. He says: ‘I shall, no
-doubt, be criticised by many for dwelling so long on a subject which to
-them will appear low, vulgar, and trifling; but I must not be deterred
-by fastidious criticisms from doing all I can do to succeed in what I
-have undertaken. Were I to treat my subject superficially, my writing
-would be of no use to anybody, and my labour would be lost; but by
-investigating it thoroughly, I may, perhaps, engage others to pay that
-attention to it which, from its importance, it deserves.’
-
-This subject of roasting occupied a large amount of Count Rumford’s
-attention while he was in England residing in Brompton Road, and
-founding the Royal Institution. His efforts were directed not merely to
-cooking the meat effectively, but to doing so economically. Like all
-others who have contemplated thoughtfully the habits of Englishmen, he
-was shocked at the barbaric waste of fuel that everywhere prevailed in
-this country, even to a greater extent then than now.
-
-The first fact that necessarily presented itself to his mind was the
-great amount of heat that is wasted, when an ordinary joint of meat is
-suspended in front of an ordinary coal fire to intercept and utilise
-only a small fraction of its total radiation.
-
-As far as I am aware, there is no other country in Europe where such
-a process is indigenous. I say ‘indigenous,’ because there certainly
-are hotels where this or any other English extravagance is perpetrated
-to please Englishmen who choose to pay for it. What is usually called
-roast meat in countries not inhabited by English-speaking people, is
-what we should call ‘baked meat,’ the very name of which sets all
-the gastronomic bristles of an orthodox Englishman in a position of
-perpendicularity.
-
-I have a theory of my own respecting the origin of this prejudice.
-Within the recollection of many still living, the great middle class of
-Englishmen lived in town; their sitting-rooms were back parlours behind
-their shops, or factories, or warehouses; their drawing-rooms were on
-the first-floor, and kitchens in the basement.
-
-They kept one general servant of the ‘Marchioness’ type. The
-corresponding class now live in suburban villas, keep cook, housemaid,
-and parlour-maid, besides the gardener and his boy, and they dine at
-supper-time.
-
-In the days of the one marchioness and the basement kitchen, these
-citizens ‘of credit and renown’ dined at dinner-time, and were in
-the habit of placing a three-legged open iron triangle in a brown
-earthenware dish, then spreading a stratum of peeled potatoes on said
-dish, and a joint of meat above, on the open triangular support. This
-edifice was carried by the marchioness to the bakehouse round the
-corner at about 11 A.M., and brought back steaming and savoury at 1 P.M.
-
-This was especially the case on Sundays; but there were exceptions, as
-when, for example, the condition of the mistress’s wardrobe offered
-no particular motive for going to church, and she stayed at home and
-roasted the Sunday dinner. The experience thus obtained demonstrated a
-material difference between the flavour of the roasted and the baked
-meat very decidedly in favour of the home roasted. Why?
-
-The principal reason was, I believe, that the baker’s large bread-oven
-contained at dinner-time a curious medley of meats—mutton, beef, pork,
-geese, veal, &c., including stuffing with sage and onions, besides
-the possibility of a joint or two that had been hung longer than was
-necessary for procuring tenderness. The vapours of these would induce
-a confusion of flavours in the milder meats, fully accounting for the
-observed superiority of the home-roasted joints.
-
-A little reflection on the principles already expounded will show that,
-theoretically regarded, a given piece of meat would be better roasted
-in a closed chamber radiating heat _from all sides_ towards the meat
-than it could be when suspended in front of a fire and heated only on
-one side, while the other side was turned away to cool more or less,
-according to the rate of rotation.
-
-If I agreed with the popular belief in the advantage of open-air
-exposure to direct radiation from glowing coal, I should suggest that
-for large joints a special roasting fire be constructed, by building
-an upright cylinder of fire-brick, and erecting within this a smaller
-cylinder or grating of iron bars, so that the fuel should be placed
-between these, and thus form an upright cylindrical ring or shirt of
-fire, enclosed outside by the bricks, but open and glowing towards the
-inside of the hollow cylinder, in the midst of which the meat should be
-suspended to receive the radiation from all sides.
-
-The whole apparatus might stand under a dome, terminating in an
-ordinary chimney, like a glass-house or a steel-maker’s cementing
-furnace; or, in this respect, like those wondrous kitchens of the old
-seraglio at Constantinople, where each apartment is a huge chimney,
-outspreading downwards, so that the cooks, and their materials and
-apparatus, as well as the huge fires themselves, are all under the
-great central chimney shaft.
-
-I do not, however, recommend such an apparatus, even to the most
-wealthy and luxurious epicure, because I am convinced, not merely from
-theoretical considerations, but also from practical experiments, that
-all kinds of meat may be not merely as well roasted in a close oven
-as before an open fire, but that the close chamber, properly managed,
-produces _better results in every respect_ than can possibly be
-obtained by roasting in the open air.
-
-To obtain such results there must be no compromise, no concession
-to any false theory respecting a necessity for special ventilation,
-excepting in the case of semi-putrid game or venison, which require to
-be carbonised and disinfected as well as cooked, and, of course, also
-demand the speedy removal of their noxious vapours.
-
-Not so with fresh meats. There is nothing in the vapour of beef that
-can injure the flavour of beef, nor in the vapour of mutton that is
-damaging to mutton, and so on with the rest. But there is much that
-can, and does actually improve them; or, more strictly speaking,
-prevents the deterioration to which they are liable when roasted before
-an open fire. I will endeavour to explain this.
-
-Carefully-conducted experiments have demonstrated the general law
-that atmospheric air is a vacuum to the vapour of water and other
-similar vapours, while each particular vapour is a plenum to itself,
-though not to other vapours; or, otherwise stated, if a given space,
-at a given temperature, be filled with air, the quantity of aqueous
-vapour that it is capable of holding is the same as though this space
-contained no air at all, nor anything else. But this same space
-may contain a much smaller quantity of aqueous vapour, and yet be
-absolutely impenetrable to aqueous vapour, provided its temperature is
-unaltered.
-
-Thus, if a bell-glass, filled with air, under ordinary pressure, at the
-temperature of 100° Fahr., be placed over a dish of water at the same
-temperature, a quantity of vapour, equal to 1/30th (in round numbers)
-of the weight of the air, will rise into the bell-glass, and there
-remain diffused throughout. If there were less air, or no air at all
-(temperature remaining the same), the bell-glass would obtain and hold
-the same quantity of vapour.
-
-If, instead of being filled with air, it contained at the outset only
-this 1/30th of aqueous vapour, it would now be an impenetrable plenum,
-behaving like a solid to aqueous vapour—no more could be forced into it
-while its temperature remained the same.
-
-But while thus charged with aqueous vapour, there would still be room
-for vapour of alcohol, or turpentine, or ether, or chloroform, &c. It
-would be a vacuum to these, though a plenum to itself. On the other
-hand, if the alcohol, turpentine, ether, or chloroform were allowed to
-evaporate into the bell-glass, a certain quantity of either of these
-vapours would presently enter it, and then this vapour would act like
-a solid mass in resisting the entry of any more of its own kind, while
-it would be freely pervious to the vapour of water or that of the other
-liquids.
-
-A practical example will further illustrate this. Some years ago I was
-engaged in the distillation of paraffin oil, and had a few thousand
-gallons of the crude liquid in a still with a tall head and a rising
-condenser. In spite of severe firing, the distillation proceeded very
-slowly. Then I threw into the still, just above the surface of the oil,
-a jet of steam. The rate of distillation immediately increased with
-the same firing, although the steam was of much lower temperature than
-the boiling oil, and, therefore, wasted much heat. The _rationale_ of
-this was, that at first an atmosphere of oil vapour stood over the
-oil, and this was impervious to more oil vapour, but on sweeping this
-out and replacing it by steam, the atmosphere above the liquid oil was
-permeable by oil vapour. This principle is largely applied in similar
-distillations.
-
-Always keeping in view that the primary problem in roasting is to raise
-the temperature throughout to the cooking heat without desiccation
-of the natural juices of the meat, and applying to this problem the
-laws of vapour diffusion expounded in my last, it is easy enough to
-understand the theoretical advantages of roasting in a closed oven, the
-space within which speedily becomes saturated with those particular
-vapours that resist further vaporisation of these juices.
-
-In all open-air roasting, whether by the one-sided fire of ordinary
-construction or the surrounding fire that I have suggested, convection
-currents are necessarily at work desiccating and toughening the meat in
-spite of the basting, though tempered thereby.
-
-I say ‘theoretical,’ because I despair of practically convincing any
-thoroughbred Englishman that baked meat is better than roasted meat by
-any reasoning whatever. If, however, he is sufficiently ‘un-English’ to
-test the question experimentally, he may possibly convince himself.
-To do this fairly, a large joint of meat should be equally divided,
-one half roasted in front of the fire, the other in a non-ventilated
-oven over a little water by a cook who knows how to heat the oven. This
-condition is essential, as some intelligence is demanded in regulating
-the temperature of an oven, while any barbarian can carry out the
-modern modification of the ordinary device of the savage, who skewers a
-bit of meat, and holds this near enough to a fire to make it frizzle.
-
-Having settled this question to my own satisfaction more than twenty
-years ago, I now amuse myself occasionally by experimenting upon
-others, and continually find that the most uncompromising theoretical
-haters of baked meat practically prefer it to orthodox roasted meat,
-provided always that they eat it in ignorance.
-
-Part II. of Count Rumford’s ‘Tenth Essay’ is devoted to his roaster
-and roasting generally, and occupies ninety-four pages, including
-the special preface. This preface is curious now, as it contains the
-following apology for delay of publication: ‘During several months,
-almost the whole of my time was taken up with the business of the
-Royal Institution; and those who are acquainted with the objects of
-that noble establishment will, no doubt, think that I judged wisely in
-preferring its interest to every other concern.’
-
-To those who attend the fashionable gatherings held on Friday evenings
-in ‘that noble establishment’ during the London season, it is almost
-comical to read what its founder says concerning the object for which
-it was instituted—viz. the noble purpose of DIFFUSING THE KNOWLEDGE
-AND FACILITATING THE GENERAL INTRODUCTION OF NEW AND USEFUL INVENTIONS
-AND IMPROVEMENTS.’ The capitals are Rumford’s, and he illustrates their
-meaning by reference to ‘the repository of this new establishment,’
-where specimens of pots and kettles, ovens, roasters, fireplaces,
-gridirons, tea-kettles, kitchen-boilers, &c., might be inspected.
-
-Some years ago, when I was sufficiently imprudent to accept an
-invitation to describe Rumford’s scientific researches in _one_
-Friday evening lecture, rigidly limited to fifty-seven minutes (and
-consequently muddled my subject in the vain struggle to condense it),
-I tried to find the original roaster, but failed; all that remained
-of the original ‘repository’ being a few models put out of the way as
-though they were empty wine-bottles. I am not finding fault, as the
-noble work that has been done there by Davy, Faraday, and Tyndall must
-have profoundly gladdened the supervising soul of Rumford (supposing
-that it does such spiritual supervision), in spite of his neglected
-roaster, which I must now describe without further digression.
-
-It is shown open and out of its setting in Fig. 1, and there seen
-as a hollow cylinder of sheet-iron, which, for ordinary use, may be
-about 18 inches in diameter and 24 inches long, closed permanently
-at one end, and by a hinged double door of sheet-iron (_dd_) at the
-other. The doubling of the door is for the purpose of retaining the
-heat by means of an intervening lining of ill-conducting material.
-Or a single door of sheet-iron, with a panel of wood outside, may be
-used. The whole to be set horizontally in brickwork, as shown in Fig.
-4, the door-front being flush with the front of the brickwork. The
-flame of the small fire below plays freely all round it by filling the
-enveloping flue-space indicated by the dotted lines on Fig. 4. Inside
-the cylinder is a shelf to support the dripping-pan (_d_) Fig. 1,
-which is separately shown in Figs. 2 and 3.
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 1.]
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
-
-This dripping-pan is an important element of the apparatus. Fig.
-3 shows it in cross section, made up of two tin-plate dishes, one
-above the other, arranged to leave a space (_w_) between. This space
-contains water, half to three-quarters of an inch in depth. Above is
-a gridiron, shown in plan, Fig. 2, on which the meat rests; the bars
-of this are shown in section in Fig. 3. The object of this arrangement
-is to prevent the fat which drips from the meat from being overheated
-and filling the roaster with the fumes of burnt—_i.e._ partially
-decomposed, fat and gravy, to the tainting influence of which Rumford
-attributed the English prejudice against baked meat. So long as any
-water remains the dripping cannot be raised more than two or three
-degrees above 212°.
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
-
-The tube _v_, Fig. 1, is for carrying away vapour, if necessary. This
-tube may be opened or closed by means of a damper moved by the little
-handle shown on the right. The _heat_ of the roaster is regulated
-by means of the register _c_, Fig. 4, in the ash-pit door of the
-fire-place, its _dryness_ by the above-named damper of the steam tube
-_v_, and also by the blowpipes, _b p_.
-
-These are iron tubes, about 2½ in. in diameter, placed underneath, so
-as to be in the midst of the flame as it ascends from the fire into
-the enveloping flue, shown by the dotted lines, Fig. 4, where their
-external openings are shown at _b p_, _b p_, and the plugs by which
-they may be opened or closed in Fig. 1. It is evident that by removing
-these plugs, and opening the damper of the steam pipe, a blast of hot
-dry air will be delivered into the roaster at its back part, and it
-must pass forward to escape by the steam pipe. As these blowpipes are
-raised to a red heat when the fire is burning briskly, the temperature
-of this blast of air may be very high; with even a very moderate fire,
-sufficiently high to desiccate and spoil the meat if they were kept
-open during all the time of cooking. They are accordingly to be kept
-closed until the last stage of the roasting is reached; then the fire
-is urged by opening the ash-pit register, and when the blowpipes are
-about red-hot, their plugs are removed, and the steam-pipe damper is
-opened for a few minutes to brown the meat by means of the hot wind
-thus generated.
-
-It will be observed that a special fire directly under the roaster is
-here designed, and that this fire is enclosed in brickwork. This is a
-general feature of Rumford’s arrangements. The economy of the whole
-device will be understood by the fact that in a test experiment at the
-Foundling Institution of London, he roasted 112 lbs. of beef with a
-consumption of only 22 lbs. of coal (three pennyworth, at 25_s._ per
-ton).
-
-Rumford tells us that ‘when these roasters were first proposed, and
-before their merit was established, many doubts were entertained
-respecting the taste of the food prepared in them,’ but that, after
-many practical trials, it was proved that ‘meat of every kind, without
-any exception, roasted in a roaster, is _better tasted, higher
-flavoured, and much more juicy and delicate_ than when roasted on a
-spit before an open fire.’ These italics are in the original, and the
-testimony of competent judges is quoted.
-
-I must describe one experiment in detail. Two legs of mutton from the
-same carcass made equal in weight before cooking were roasted, one
-before the fire and the other in a roaster. When cooked, both were
-weighed, and the joint roasted in the roaster proved to be heavier than
-the other by 6 per cent. They were brought upon table at the same time,
-‘and a large and perfectly unprejudiced company was assembled to eat
-them.’ Both were found good, but a decided preference given to that
-cooked in the roaster; ‘it was much more juicy, and was thought better
-tasted.’ Both were fairly eaten up, nothing remaining of either that
-was eatable, and the fragments collected. ‘Of the leg of mutton which
-had been roasted in the roaster, hardly anything visible remained,
-excepting the bare bone, while a considerable heap was formed of scraps
-not eatable which remained of that roasted on a spit.’
-
-This was an eloquent experiment; the gain of 6 per cent. tells of
-juices retained with consequent gain of flavour, tenderness, and
-digestibility, and the subsequent testimony of the scraps describes the
-difference in the condition of the tendonous, integumentary portions of
-the joints, which are just those that present the toughest practical
-problems to the cook, especially in roasting.
-
-But why are these roasters not in general use? Why did they die with
-their inventor, notwithstanding the fact, mentioned in his essay, that
-Mr. Hopkins, of Greek Street, Soho, had sold above 200, and others were
-making them?
-
-Those of my readers who have had practical experience in using hot
-air or in superheating steam, will doubtless have already detected a
-weak point in the ‘blowpipes.’ When iron pipes are heated to redness,
-or thereabouts, and a blast of air or steam passes through them, they
-work admirably for a while, but presently the pipe gives way, for iron
-is a combustible substance, and burns slowly when heated and supplied
-with abundant oxygen, either by means of air or water; the latter being
-decomposed, its hydrogen set free, while its oxygen combines with the
-iron, and reduces it to friable oxide. Rumford does not appear to have
-understood this, or he would have made his blowpipes of fire-clay or
-other refractory non-oxidisable material.
-
-The records of the Great Seal Office contain specifications of hundreds
-of ingenious inventions that have failed most vexatiously from this
-defect; and I could tell of joint-stock companies that have been
-‘floated’ to carry out inventions involving the use of heated air or
-super-heated steam that have worked beautifully and with apparent
-economy while the shares were in the market, and then collapsed just
-when the calls were paid up, the cost of renewal of superheaters and
-hot-air chambers having worse than annulled the economy of working
-fuel described in the prospectus. Thus a vessel driven by heated air,
-as a substitute for steam, was fitted up with its caloric engine, and
-crossed the Atlantic with passengers on board. The voyage practically
-demonstrated a great saving of coal; the patent rights were purchased
-accordingly for a very large amount, and shares went up buoyantly until
-the oxidation of the great air chamber proved that the engine burned
-iron as well as coal at a ruinous cost.
-
-Although no mention is made by Rumford of such destruction of the
-blowpipes, he was evidently conscious of the costliness of his original
-roaster, as he describes another which may be economically substituted
-for it. This has an air chamber formed by bringing down the body of
-the oven so as to enclose the space occupied by the blowpipes shown in
-Fig. 1, and placing the dripping-pan on a false bottom joined to the
-front face of the roaster just below the door, but not extending quite
-to the back. An adjustable register door opens at the front into this
-air chamber, and when this is opened the air passes along from front to
-back under the false bottom, and rises behind to an outlet pipe like
-that shown at _v_, Fig. 1. In thus passing along the hot bottom of the
-oven the air is heated, but not so greatly as by the blowpipes, which
-being surrounded by the flame on all sides, are heated above as well as
-below, and the air in passing through them is much more exposed to heat
-than in passing through the air-chamber.
-
-To increase the heat transmitted in the latter, Rumford proposes that
-‘a certain quantity of iron wire, in loose coils, or of iron turnings,
-be put into the air chamber.’
-
-This modification he called a ‘roasting-oven,’ to distinguish it from
-the first described, the ‘roaster.’ He states that the roasting-oven
-is not quite so effective as the roaster, but from its greater
-cheapness may be largely used. This anticipation has been realised. The
-modern ‘kitchener,’ which in so many forms is gradually and steadily
-supplanting the ancient open range, is an apparatus in which roasting
-in the open air before a fire is superseded by roasting in a closed
-chamber or roasting-oven. Having made three removals within the last
-twelve years, each preceded by a tedious amount of house-hunting, I
-have seen a great many kitchens of newly-built houses, and find that
-about 90 per cent. of these have closed kitcheners, and only about 10
-per cent. are fitted with open ranges of the old pattern. Bottle-jacks,
-like smoke-jacks and spits, are gradually falling into disuse.
-
-When these kitcheners were first introduced, a great point was made
-by the manufacturer of the distinction between the roasting and the
-baking-oven; the first being provided with a special apparatus for
-effecting ventilation by devices more or less resembling that in
-Rumford’s roasting-oven. Gradually these degenerated into mere shams,
-and now in the best kitcheners even a pretence to ventilation is
-abandoned. Having reasoned out my own theory of the conditions demanded
-for perfect roasting some time ago (about 1860, when I lectured on
-‘Household Philosophy,’ to a class of ladies at the Birmingham and
-Midland Institute), I have watched the gradual disappearance of
-these concessions to popular prejudice with some interest, as they
-show how practical experience has confirmed my theory, which, as
-already expounded, is that _fresh meat should be cooked by the action
-of radiant heat, projected towards it from all sides, while it is
-immersed in an atmosphere nearly saturated with its own vapours_.
-
-Let it be clearly understood that I refer to the vapours as they rise
-from the meat, and not to the vapour of burnt dripping, which Rumford
-describes. The acrid properties of the products of such partial
-dissociation are far better understood by modern chemists than they
-were in Rumford’s time.
-
-His water dripping-pan effectually prevents their formation. It is
-still manufactured of the precise pattern shown in the drawing, copied
-from Rumford’s, and cooks who understand their business at all use it
-as a matter of course.
-
-The few domestic fireplace-ovens that existed in Rumford’s time were
-clumsily heated by raking some of the fire from the grate into a space
-left below the oven. Those of the best modern kitcheners are heated by
-flues going round them, generally starting from the top, which thus
-attains the highest temperature. The radiation from this does the
-‘browning’ for which Rumford’s blowpipes were designed.
-
-Here I differ from my teacher, as, according to my view of the
-philosophy of roasting, the browning, or the application of the
-highest temperature, should take place at the beginning rather than
-the end of the process, in order that a crust of firmly coagulated
-albumen may surround the joint and retain the juices of the meat.
-All that is necessary to obtain this effect in a sufficient degree
-is to raise the roasting-oven to an excessive temperature before the
-meat is put in. Supposing an equal fire is maintained all the while,
-this excessive initial temperature will presently decline, because,
-when the meat is in the oven, the radiant heat from its sides is
-intercepted by the joint and doing work upon it; heat cannot do work
-without a corresponding fall of temperature. While the oven is empty
-the radiations from each side cross the open space to reinforce the
-temperature of the other sides.
-
-When I first decided to write on this subject I made some designs for
-kitchen thermometers intending to have them made, and to recommend
-their use; but was not successful. When a man condemns his own
-inventions, his verdict may be safely accepted without further inquiry.
-
-I afterwards learned that Messrs. Davis & Co. had already constructed
-special oven thermometers, to be so attached to the oven-door that the
-bulb should be inside and the tube having the expansion of the mercury
-outside, and therefore readable without opening the door, as shown in
-Fig. 5, and another for standing inside the oven, Fig. 6.
-
-I learned by these thermometers the cause of my own failure. I tried
-to do too much—to construct one form of thermometer to do all kinds of
-kitchen work. A thermometer suitable for the oven is not applicable
-to trying the temperature of a fat-bath used in frying. I accordingly
-wrote to Messrs. Davis asking them to devise a thermometer for this
-purpose. They have done so. It is described in the next chapter.
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 5.]
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 6.]
-
-Is there, then, any difference at all between roasting and baking?
-There is. In roasting, the temperature, after the first start, is
-maintained about uniformly throughout; while in baking bread by the
-old-fashioned method, the temperature continually declines from the
-beginning to the end of the process; but in order that a dweller in
-cities, or the cook of an ordinary town household, may understand this
-difference, some explanation is necessary. The old-fashioned oven, such
-as was generally used in Rumford’s time, and is still used in country
-houses and by old-fashioned bakers, is an arched cavity of brick with
-a flat brick floor. This cavity is closed by a suitable door, which
-in its primitive, and perhaps its best form, was a flat tile pressed
-against the opening and luted round with clay. Such ovens were, and
-still are, heated by simply spreading on the brick floor a sufficient
-quantity of wood—preferably well-dried twigs; these, being lighted,
-raise the temperature of the arched roof to a glowing heat, and that
-of the floor in a somewhat lower degree. When this heating is completed
-(the judgement of which constitutes the chief element of skill in
-thus baking) the embers are carefully brushed out from the floor, the
-loaves, &c., inserted by means of a flat battledore with a long handle,
-called a ‘peel,’ and the door closed and firmly luted round, not to
-be opened until the operation is complete. Baked clay is an excellent
-radiator, and therefore the surface of bricks forming the arched roof
-of the oven radiates vigorously upon its contents below, which are
-thus heated at top by radiation from the roof, and at bottom by direct
-contact with the floor of the oven. The difference between the compact
-bottom crust, and the darker bubble-bearing top crust of an ordinary
-loaf is thus explained.
-
-As the baking of a large joint of meat is a longer operation than the
-baking of bread, there is another reason besides that already given for
-the inferiority of meat when baked in a baker’s oven constructed on
-this principle. The slow cooling-down must tend to produce a flabbiness
-and insipidity similar to that of the roast meat which is served at
-restaurants where a joint remains ‘in cut’ for two or three hours. Of
-this I speak theoretically, not having had an opportunity of tasting a
-joint that has been cooked in a brick oven of the construction above
-described; but I have observed the advantage of maintaining a steady
-heat throughout the process of roasting (after the first higher heating
-above described), in the iron oven of a kitchener, or American stove,
-or gas oven.
-
-Another and somewhat original method of roasting is that which is
-carried out in ‘Captain Warren’s Cooking Pot,’ concerning the practical
-result of which I hear conflicting opinions. It is a large pot
-containing water, inside which is suspended—like the glue chamber of a
-glue-pot—an inner vessel. The meat to be cooked is placed without water
-in this inner closed vessel, which dips into the water of the outer
-vessel, the steam from which is led away by a side opening or pipe.
-This outer water being kept boiling, the meat is surrounded only by its
-own vapour, in the midst of which it is cooked at a low temperature.
-
-The result is similar to boiled meat, with the advantage of retaining
-those juices that pass away into the water in ordinary boiling. This
-advantage is unquestionable, and so far the apparatus may be safely
-recommended. But some of the claims made in the prospectuses that are
-freely distributed are questionable.
-
-The method of roasting with Warren’s pot is to cook the meat as above
-described in its own vapour, then dredge with flour, and hang before
-the fire twenty minutes. The result is a tender imitation of roast
-meat, but more like boiled than roasted meat in flavour. This is much
-approved by many, but I am told that meat thus cooked and eaten daily
-palls upon the appetite. I know one, a youth (not one of our fastidious
-fops of the period), who, fed upon this at school during a few years,
-has thereby acquired a fixed aversion to boiled meat of all kinds.
-
-Regarding the subject theoretically, it appears to me that the method
-recommended by Captain Warren, and followed by those who use his
-cooker, should be reversed for roasting; that the meat should have
-the twenty minutes before the fire—or in a hot oven—before, instead
-of after, its stewing in its own vapour. Some experiments I have made
-confirm this view so far as they go, but are not sufficiently numerous
-to settle the question.
-
-For stewing of all kinds, and for such concoctions as Rumford’s
-soup (_see_ Chapter XIV.), it is an admirable apparatus, and the
-contrivances for carrying the steam from the outer vessel to a
-vegetable steamer above the cooking chamber, before described, is very
-ingenious and effective.
-
-The statement in the prospectus, that the ‘nourishing juices’ otherwise
-wasted ‘are by that mode condensed, and form at the bottom of the
-vessel a rich gelatinous body,’ is misleading.
-
-Gelatin is not volatile; the gelatinous body at the bottom of the
-vessel is not composed of condensed vapours, though condensed vapour
-of water is concerned in its formation. It is simply some of the
-gelatin of the joint dissolved by the water which condenses upon it,
-and finally drips down from the joint, carrying with it the dissolved
-gelatin.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-FRYING.
-
-
-THE process of frying follows next in natural order to those of
-roasting and grilling. A little reflection will show that in frying the
-heat is not communicated to the food by radiation from a heated surface
-at some distance, but by direct contact with the heating medium, which
-is the hot fat commonly, but erroneously, described as ‘boiling fat.’
-
-As I am writing for intelligent readers who desire to understand the
-philosophy of the common processes of cookery, so far as they are
-understandable, this fallacy concerning boiling fat should be pushed
-aside at once.
-
-Generally speaking, ordinary animal fats are not boilable under the
-pressure of our atmosphere (one of the constituent fatty acids of
-butter, butyric acid, is an exception; it boils at 314° Fahr.). Before
-reaching their boiling-point, _i.e._ the temperature at which they
-pass completely into the state of vapour, their constituents are more
-or less dissociated or separated by the repulsive agency of the heat,
-new compounds being in many cases formed by recombinations of their
-elements.
-
-When water is heated to 212° it is converted completely into a gas,
-which gas, on cooling below 212°, returns to the fluid state without
-any loss. In like manner if we raise an essential oil, such as
-turpentine, to 320°, or oil of peppermint to 340°, or orange-peel oil
-to 345°, or patchouli to 489°, and other such oils to certain other
-temperatures, they pass into a state of vapour, and these vapours,
-when cooled, recondense into their original form of liquid oil without
-alteration. Hence they are called ‘volatile oils,’ while the greasy
-oils which cannot thus be distilled (in which class animal fats are
-included) are called ‘fixed oils.’
-
-A very simple practical means of distinguishing these is the following:
-make a spot of the oil to be tested on clean blotting-paper. Heat this
-by holding it above a spirit-lamp flame, or by toasting before a fire.
-If the oil is volatile the spot disappears; if fixed, it remains as a
-spot of grease until the heat is raised high enough to char the paper,
-of which charring (a result of the dissociation above-named) the oil
-partakes.
-
-But the practical cook may say, ‘This is wrong, for the fat in my
-frying-pan does boil. I see it boil, and I hear it boil.’ The reply to
-this is, that the lard, or dripping, or butter that you put into your
-frying-pan is oil mixed with water, and that it is not the oil but the
-water that you see boiling. To prove this, take some fresh lard, as
-usually supplied, and heat it in any convenient vessel, raising the
-temperature gradually. Presently it will begin to splutter. If you
-try it with a thermometer you will find that this spluttering-point
-agrees with the boiling-point of water, and if you use a retort you may
-condense and collect the splutter-matter, and prove it to be water.
-So long as the spluttering continues the temperature of the melted
-fat, _i.e._ the oil, remains about the same, the water vapour carrying
-away the heat. When all the water is driven off the liquid becomes
-quiescent, in spite of its temperature rising from 212° to above 400°,
-when a pungent smoky vapour comes off and the oil grows darker; this
-vapour is not vapour of lard, but vapour of separated and recombined
-constituents of the lard, which is now suffering dissociation, the
-volatile products passing off while the non-volatile carbon (_i.e._
-lard-charcoal) remains behind, colouring the liquid. If the heating
-be continued, a residuum of this carbon, in the form of soft coke or
-charcoal, will be all that remains in the heated vessel.
-
-We may now understand what happens when something humid—say a sole—is
-put into a frying-pan which contains fat heated above 212°. Water, when
-suddenly heated above its boiling-point, is a powerful explosive, and
-may be very dangerous, simply because it expands to 1,728 times its
-original bulk when converted into steam. Steam-engine boilers and the
-boilers of kitchen stoves sometimes explode by becoming red-hot while
-dry, and then receiving a little water which suddenly expands to steam.
-
-The noise and spluttering that is started immediately the sole is
-immersed in the hot fat is due to the explosion of a multitude of small
-bubbles formed by the confinement of the suddenly expanding steam in
-the viscous fat, from which it releases itself with a certain degree
-of violence. It is evident that to effect this amount of eruptive
-violence, the temperature must be considerably above the boiling-point
-of the exploding water. If it were only just at the boiling-point, the
-water would boil quietly.
-
-As we all know, the flavour and appearance of a boiled sole or mackerel
-are decidedly different from those of a fried sole or mackerel, and
-it is easy to understand that the different results of these cooking
-processes are to some extent due to the difference of temperature to
-which the fish is subjected. It will be at once understood that my
-theory of the chief difference between roasted or grilled meat and
-boiled meat applies to fried fish; that the flavouring juices are
-retained when the fish is fried, while more or less of them escape into
-the water when boiled.
-
-Besides this, the surface of the fried fish, like that of the roasted
-or grilled meat, is ‘browned.’ What is the nature, the chemistry of
-this browning?
-
-I have endeavoured to find some answer to this question, that I might
-quote with authority, but no technological or purely chemical work
-within my reach supplies such answer. Rumford refers to it as essential
-to roasting, and provides for it in the manner already described,
-but he goes no farther into the philosophy of it than admitting its
-flavouring effect.
-
-I must therefore struggle with the problem in my own way as I best can.
-Has the gentle reader ever attempted the manufacture of ‘hard-bake,’
-or ‘toffy,’ or ‘butter-scotch,’ by mixing sugar with butter, fusing
-the mixture, and heating further until the well-known hard, brown
-confection is produced? I venture to call this fried sugar. If heated
-simply without the butter it may be called baked sugar. The scientific
-name for this baked sugar is _caramel_.
-
-The chemical changes that take place in the browning of sugar have been
-more systematically studied than those which occur in the constituents
-of flesh when browned in the course of ordinary cookery. Believing
-them to be nearly analogous, I will state, as briefly as possible, the
-leading facts concerning the sugar.
-
-Ordinary sugar is crystalline, _i.e._ when it passes from the liquid
-to the solid state it assumes regular geometrical forms. If the
-solidification takes place undisturbed and slowly, the geometric
-crystals are large, as in sugar-candy; if the water is rapidly
-evaporated with agitation, the crystals are small, and the whole
-mass is a granular aggregation of crystals, such as we see in loaf
-sugar. If this crystalline sugar be heated to about 320° Fahr. it
-fuses, and without any change of chemical composition undergoes
-some sort of internal physical alteration that makes it cohere in a
-different fashion. (The learned name for this action is _allotropism_,
-and the substance is said to be _allotropic_, other conditioned; or
-_dimorphic_, two-shaped). Instead of being crystalline the sugar
-now becomes vitreous, it solidifies as a transparent amber-coloured
-glass-like substance, the well-known barley-sugar, which differs from
-crystalline sugar not only in this respect, but has a much lower
-melting-point; it liquefies between 190° and 212°, while loaf-sugar
-does not fuse below 320°. Left to itself, vitreous sugar returns
-gradually to its original condition, loses transparency, and breaks up
-into small crystals. In doing this it gives out the heat which during
-its vitreous condition had been doing the work of breaking up its
-crystalline structure, and therefore was not manifested as temperature.
-
-This return to the crystalline condition is retarded by adding vinegar
-or mucilaginous matter to the heated sugar; hence the confectioners’
-name of ‘barley-sugar,’ which, in one of its old-fashioned forms, was
-prepared by boiling down ordinary sugar in a decoction of pearl barley.
-
-The French cooks and confectioners carry on the heating of sugar
-through various stages bearing different technical names, one of the
-most remarkable of which is a splendid crimson variety, largely used
-in fancy sweetmeats, and containing no foreign colouring matter, as
-commonly supposed. Though nothing is added, something is taken away,
-and this is some of the chemically-combined water of the original
-sugar, in the parting with which not only a change of colour occurs,
-but also a modification of flavour, as anybody may prove by experiment.
-
-When the temperature is gradually raised to 420°, the sugar loses two
-equivalents of water, and becomes _caramel_—a dark-brown substance, no
-longer sweet, but having a new flavour of its own. It further differs
-from sugar by being incapable of fermentation.
-
-The first stage of this cookery of sugar has now an archæological
-interest in connection with one of the lost arts of the kitchen, viz.
-the ‘spinning’ of sugar. Within the reach of my own recollection no
-evening party could pretend to be stylish unless the supper-table was
-decorated with a specimen of this art—a temple, a pagoda, or something
-of the sort done in barley-sugar. These were made by raising the sugar
-to 320°, when it fused and became amorphous, or vitreous, as already
-described. The cook then dipped a skewer into it; the melted vitreous
-sugar adhered to this, and was drawn out as a thread, which speedily
-solidified by cooling. While in the act of solidification it was woven
-into the desired form, and the skilful artist did this with wonderful
-rapidity. I once witnessed with childish delight the spinning of a
-great work of art by the Duke of Cumberland’s French cook in St.
-James’s Palace. It was a ship in full sail, the sails of edible wafer,
-the hull a basketwork of spun sugar, the masts of massive sugar-sticks,
-and the rigging of delicate threads of the same. As nearly as I can
-remember, the whole was completed in about an hour.
-
-But to return from high art below stairs to chemical science. The
-conversion of sugar into caramel is, as already stated, attended with
-a change of flavour; a kind of bitterness replaces the sweetness.
-This peculiar flavour, judiciously used, is a powerful adjunct to
-cookery, and one which is shamefully neglected in our ordinary English
-domestic kitchens. To test this, go to one of those Swiss restaurants
-originally instituted in this country by that enterprising Ticinese,
-the late Carlo Gatti, and which are now so numerous in London and our
-other large towns; call for _maccheroni al sugo_; notice the rich brown
-gravy, the ‘sugo.’ Many an English cook would use half a pound of gravy
-beef to produce the like; but the basis of this is a halfpennyworth or
-less of what I call a caramel compound, as an example of which I copy
-the following recipe from the Household Edition of Gouffé’s ‘Royal
-Cookery Book:’ ‘Melt half a pound of butter; add one pound of flour;
-mix well, and leave on a slow fire, stirring occasionally until it
-becomes of a light mahogany colour. When cool it may be kept in the
-larder ready for use.’ Gouffé calls this ‘Liaison au Roux;’ the English
-for _liaison_ is a thickening. It is really fried flour. Burnt onion is
-another form of caramel, with a special flavour superadded. Plain sugar
-caramel is improved by the use of a little butter, as in making toffee.
-Thus prepared it is really a fried sugar rather than a baked sugar.
-_Beurre noir_ (black butter) is another of the caramelised preparations
-used by continental cooks.
-
-While engaged upon your macaroni, look around at the other dishes
-served to other customers. Instead of the pale slices of meat spread
-out in a little puddle of pale watery liquid, that are served in
-English restaurants of corresponding class, you will see dainty
-morsels, covered with rich brown gravy, or surrounded by vegetables
-immersed in the same. This ‘sugo’ is greatly varied according to the
-requirements, by additions of stock-broth, tarragon vinegar, ketchup,
-&c., but burnt flour, burnt sugar, or burnt onions, or burnt something
-is the basis of it all.
-
-To further test the flavouring properties of browning, take some
-eels cut up as usual for stewing; divide into two portions; stew one
-brutally—by this I mean simply in a little water—serving them with this
-water as a pale gravy or juice. Let the second portion be well fried,
-fully caramelised or browned, then stewed, and served with brown gravy.
-Compare the result. Make a corresponding experiment with a beefsteak.
-Cut it in two portions; stew one brutally in plain water; fry the
-other, then stew it and serve brown.
-
-Take a highly-baked loaf—better one that is black outside; scrape off
-the film of crust that is quite black, _i.e._ completely carbonised,
-and you will come to a rich brown layer, especially if you operate
-upon the bottom crust. Slice off a thin shaving of this and eat it
-critically. Mark its high flavour as compared with the comparatively
-insipid crumb of the same loaf, and note especially the resemblance
-between this flavour and that of the caramel from sugar, and that of
-the browned eels and browned steak. A delicate way of detecting the
-flavour due to the browning of bread is to make two bowls of bread and
-milk in the same manner, one with the crust the other with the crumb of
-the same loaf. I am not suggesting these as examples of better or worse
-flavour, but as evidence of the fact that much flavour of some sort is
-generated. It may be out of place, as I think it is, in the bread and
-milk, or it may be added with much advantage to other things, as it is
-by the cook who manipulates caramel and its analogues skilfully.
-
-The largest constituent of bread is starch. Excluding water, it
-constitutes about three-fourths of the weight of good wheaten flour.
-Starch differs but little from sugar in composition. It is easily
-converted into sugar by simply heating it with a little sulphuric
-acid, and by other means, of which I shall have to speak more fully
-hereafter, when I come to the cookery of vegetables. When simply
-heated, it is converted into dextrin or ‘British gum,’ largely used
-as a substitute for gum arabic. If the heat is continued a change of
-colour takes place; it grows darker and darker, until it blackens just
-as sugar does, the final result being nearly the same. Water is driven
-off in both cases, but in carbonising sugar we start with more water,
-sugar being starch plus water or the elements of water. Thus the brown
-material of bread-crust or toast is nearly identical with sugar caramel.
-
-I have often amused myself by watching what occurs when toast and water
-is prepared, and I recommend my readers to repeat the observation.
-Toast a small piece of bread to blackness, and then float it on water
-in a glass vessel. Leave the water at rest, and direct your attention
-to the under side of the floating toast. Little threadlike streams of
-brown liquid will be seen descending in the water. This is a solution
-of the substance which, if I mistake not, is a sort of caramel, and
-which ultimately tinges all the water.
-
-Some years ago I commenced a course of experiments with this substance,
-but did not complete them. In case I should never do so, I will here
-communicate the results attained. I found that this starch caramel
-is a disinfectant, and that sugar caramel also has some disinfecting
-properties. I am not prepared to say that it is powerful enough to
-disinfect sewage, though at the time I had a narrow escape from the
-Great Seal Office, where I thought of patenting it for this purpose as
-a non-poisonous disinfectant that may be poured into rivers in any
-quantity without danger. Though it may not be powerful enough for this,
-it has an appreciable effect on water slightly tainted with decomposing
-organic matter.
-
-This is a very curious fact. We do not know who invented toast and
-water, nor, so far as I can learn, has any theory of its use been
-expounded, yet there is extant a vague popular impression that the
-toast has some sort of wholesome effect on the water. I suspect that
-this must have been originally based on experience, probably on the
-experience of our forefathers or foremothers, living in country places
-where stagnant water was a common beverage, and various devices were
-adopted to render it potable.
-
-Gelatin, fibrin, albumen, &c.—_i.e._ all the materials of animal
-food—as already shown, are composed, like starch and sugar, of carbon,
-hydrogen and oxygen, with, in the case of these animal substances,
-the addition of nitrogen; but this does not prevent their partial
-carbonisation (or ‘caramelising,’ if I may invent a name to express the
-action which stops short of blackening). Animal fat is a hydrocarbon
-which may be similarly browned, and, if I am right in my generalisation
-of all these browning processes, an important practical conclusion
-follows, viz. that cheap soluble caramel made by skilfully heating
-common sugar or flour is really, as well as apparently, as valuable an
-element in gravies, &c., as the far more expensive colouring matter of
-brown meat gravies, and that our English cooks should use it far more
-liberally than they usually do.
-
-The preparation of sugar caramel is easy enough; the sugar should be
-gradually heated till it assumes a rich brown colour and has lost its
-original sweetness. If carried just far enough, the result is easily
-soluble in hot water, and the solution may be kept for a long time,
-as it is by cooks who understand its merits. In connection with the
-idea of its disinfecting action, I may refer to the cookery of tainted
-meat or ‘high’ game. A hare that is repulsively advanced when raw may,
-by much roasting and browning, become quite wholesome; and such is
-commonly the case in the ordinary cooking of hares. If it were boiled
-or merely stewed (without preliminary browning) in this condition, it
-would be quite disgusting to ordinary palates.
-
-A leg of mutton for roasting should be hung until it begins to become
-odorous; for boiling it should be as fresh as possible. This should be
-especially remembered now that we have so much frozen meat imported
-from the antipodes. When duly thawed it is in splendid condition for
-roasting, but is not usually so satisfactory when boiled. I may here
-mention incidentally that such meat is sometimes unjustly condemned on
-account of its displaying a raw centre when cooked. This arises from
-imperfect thawing. The heat required to thaw a given weight of ice and
-bring it up to 60° is about the same as is demanded for the cookery of
-an equal quantity of meat, and therefore, while the thawed portion of
-the meat is being cooked, the frozen portion is but just thawed, and
-remains quite raw.
-
-A much longer time is demanded for thawing—_i.e._ supplying 142° of
-latent heat—than might be supposed. To ascertain whether the thawing is
-completed, drive an iron skewer through the thickest part of the joint.
-If there is a core of ice within it will be distinctly felt by its
-resistance.
-
-A correspondent asks me which is the most nutritious—a slice of English
-beef in its own gravy or the browned morsel as served in an Italian
-restaurant with the caramel addition to the gravy?
-
-This is a very fair question, and not difficult to answer. If both are
-equally cooked, neither overdone nor underdone, they must contain,
-weight for weight, exactly the same constituents in equally digestible
-form, so far as chemical composition is concerned. Whether they will
-actually be digested with equal facility and assimilated with equal
-completeness depends upon something else not measurable by chemical
-analysis, viz. the relish with which they are respectively eaten.
-To some persons the undisguised fleshiness of the English slice,
-especially if underdone, is very repugnant. To these the corresponding
-morsel, cooked according to Gouffé rather than Mrs. Beeton, would be
-more nutritious. To the carnivorous John Bull, who regards such dishes
-as ‘nasty French messes’ of questionable composition, the slice of
-unmistakable ox-flesh, from a visible joint, would obtain all the
-advantages of appreciative mastication, and that sympathy between the
-brain and the stomach which is so powerful that, when discordantly
-exerted, it may produce the effects that are recorded in the case of
-the sporting traveller who was invited by a Red Indian chief to a
-‘dog-fight,’ and ate with relish the savoury dishes at what he supposed
-to be a preliminary banquet. Digestion was tranquilly and healthfully
-proceeding, under the soothing influence of the calumet, when he asked
-the chief when the fight would commence. On being told that it was
-over, and that, in the final ragoût he had praised so highly, the
-last puppy-dog possessed by the tribe had been cooked in his honour,
-the normal course of digestion of the honoured guest was completely
-reversed.
-
-Before leaving the subject of caramel, I should say a few words
-about French coffee, or ‘Coffee as in France,’ of which we hear so
-much. There are two secrets upon which depend the excellence of our
-neighbours in the production of this beverage. First, economy in using
-the water; second, flavouring with caramel. As regards the first, it
-appears that English housewives have been demoralised by the habitual
-use of tea, and apply to the infusion of coffee the popular formula for
-that of tea, ‘a spoonful for each person and one for the pot.’
-
-The French after-dinner coffee-cup has about one-third of the liquid
-capacity of a full-sized English breakfast-cup, but the quantity
-of solid coffee supplied to each cupful is more than equal to that
-ordinarily allowed for the larger English measure of water.
-
-Besides this, the coffee is commonly, though not universally, flavoured
-with a specially and skilfully-prepared caramel, instead of the chicory
-so largely used in England. Much of the so-called ‘French coffee’ now
-sold by our grocers in tins is caramel flavoured with coffee rather
-than coffee flavoured with caramel, and many shrewd English housewives
-have discovered that by mixing the cheapest of these French coffees
-with an equal quantity of pure coffee they obtain a better result than
-with the common domestic mixture of three parts coffee and one of
-chicory.
-
-A few months ago a sample of ‘coffee-finings’ was sent to me for
-chemical examination, that I might certify to its composition and
-wholesomeness. I described it in my report as ‘a caramel, with a
-peculiarly rich aroma and flavour, evidently due to the vegetable
-juices or extractive matter naturally united with the saccharine
-substance from which it is prepared.’ I had no definite information of
-the exact nature of this saccharine substance, but have since learned
-that it was a bye-product of sugar refining.
-
-Neither the juice of the beetroot nor the sap of the sugar-cane
-consists entirely of pure sugar dissolved in pure water. They both
-contain other constituents common to vegetable juices, and some
-peculiar to themselves. These mucilaginous matters, when roughly
-separated, carry down with them some sugar, and form a sort of coarse
-sweetwort, capable by skilful treatment of producing a rich caramel
-well suited for mixing with coffee.
-
-Returning to the subject of frying, we encounter a good illustration
-of the practical importance of sound theory. A great deal of fish and
-other kinds of food is badly and wastefully cooked in consequence of
-the prevalence of a false theory of frying. It is evident that many
-domestic cooks (not hotel or restaurant cooks) have a vague idea that
-the metal plate forming the bottom of the frying-pan should directly
-convey the heat of the fire to the fried substance, and that the bit of
-butter or lard or dripping put into the pan is used to prevent the fish
-from sticking to it or to add to the richness of the fish by smearing
-its surface.
-
-The theory which I have propounded above is that the melted fat cooks
-by convection of heat, just as water does in the so-called boiling of
-meat. If this is correct, it is evident that the fish, &c., should
-be completely immersed in a bath of melted fat or oil, and that the
-turning over demanded by the greased-plate theory is unnecessary.
-Well educated cooks understand this distinctly, and use a deeper
-vessel than our common frying-pan, charge this with a quantity of
-fat sufficient to cover the fish, which is simply laid upon a wire
-support, or frying-basket and left in the hot fat until the browning
-of its surface, or of the flour or bread-crumbs with which it is
-coated indicates the sufficiency of the cookery. The illustration
-is from Gouffé’s excellent cookery-book already quoted, and is
-introduced because I have found it so little understood by English
-housewives. Frying-kettles may now be purchased at all our best English
-ironmongers, though until recently they were difficult to obtain. My
-lectures and papers have largely extended the demand and consequent
-supply.
-
-[Illustration: FIG. 7.]
-
-At first sight the deep fat bath appears extravagant, as compared
-with the practice of greasing the bottom of the pan with a little
-dab of fat, but any housewife who will apply to the frying of
-sprats, herrings, &c., the method of quantitative inductive
-research, described and advocated by Lord Bacon in his ‘Novum Organum
-Scientiarum,’ may prove the contrary.
-
-‘Must I read the “Novum Organum,” and buy another dictionary, in
-order to translate all this?’ she may exclaim in despair. ‘No!’ is
-my reply. This Baconian inductive method, to which we are indebted
-for all the triumphs of modern science, is nothing more nor less than
-the systematic and orderly application of common sense and definite
-measurement to practical questions. In this case it may be applied
-simply by frying a weighed quantity of any kind of fish or cutlet, &c.,
-in a weighed quantity of fat used as a bath; then weighing the fat that
-remains and subtracting the latter weight from the first, to determine
-the quantity consumed. If the frying be properly performed, and this
-quantity compared with that which is consumed by the method of merely
-greasing the pan-bottom, the bath frying will be proved to be the more
-economical as well as the more efficient method.
-
-The reason of this is simply that much or all of the fat is burnt
-and wasted when only a thin film is spread on the bottom of the pan,
-while no such waste occurs when the bath of fat is properly used. The
-temperature at which the dissociation of fat _commences_ is below that
-required for delicately browning the surface of the fish itself, or
-of the flour or bread-crumbs, and therefore no fat is burnt away from
-the bath, as it is by the over-heated portions of a merely greased
-frying-pan; and as regards the quantity adhering to the fish itself,
-this may be reduced to a minimum by withdrawing it from the bath when
-_the whole_ is uniformly at the maximum cooking temperature, and
-allowing the fluid fat to drain off at once. It may be supposed that
-by complete immersion of the fish in the fat-bath, more fat will soak
-into it, but such is not the case; the water amidst the fibres of the
-fish is boiling and driving out steam so rapidly that no fat can enter
-if the heat is well maintained to the last moment, and the frying not
-continued too long. When cooked on the greased plate, one side is
-necessarily cooling, and the fat settling down into the fish to occupy
-the pores left vacuous by the condensing steam, while the other is
-being heated from below.
-
-The temperature of the fat-bath may be tested by the ordinary cook’s
-method—that of throwing into it a small piece of bread-crumb about the
-size of a nut. If it frizzles and produces large bubbles of steam, the
-full temperature of frying in the hottest of fat is reached; if it
-frizzles slightly, and only gives out small steam-bubbles, you have the
-temperature demanded for slow frying.
-
-The bath-frying demands separate supplies of fat[9]—one for fish,
-another for cutlets and other similar kinds of meat, a third for such
-goody-goodies as apple-fritters—a most wholesome and delicious dish,
-too rarely seen on English tables. I suspect that the prevalence of the
-greased frying-pan is the reason of its rarity. Cooked by this barbaric
-device, apples are scarcely eatable, but when thin slices are immersed
-in a bath of melted fat at a temperature of about 300° Fahr., the water
-of their juice is suddenly boiled, and as this water is contained in
-a multitude of little bladderlike cells, they burst, and the whole
-structure is puffed out to a most delicate lightness, far more suitable
-for following solid meats than soddened fruit enveloped in heavy
-indigestible pudding-paste. Another advantage is that with proper
-apparatus (wire basket, kettle, and store of special fat) the fritters
-can be prepared and cooked in about one-tenth of the time demanded for
-the preparation and cookery of an apple pudding or pie. A few seconds
-of immersion in the fat-bath is sufficient.
-
-The fat used in frying requires occasional purification. I may
-illustrate the principle on which it should be conducted by describing
-the method adopted in the refining of mineral oils, such as petroleum
-or the paraffin distillates of bituminous shales. These are dark, tarry
-liquids of treacle-like consistency, with a strong and offensive odour.
-Nevertheless they are, at but little cost, converted into the ‘crystal
-oil’ used for lamps, and that beautiful pearly substance, the solid,
-translucent paraffin now so largely used in the manufacture of candles.
-Besides these, we obtain from the same dirty source an intermediate
-substance, the well-known ‘Vaseline,’ now becoming the basis of most
-of the ointments of the pharmacopœia. This purification is effected
-by agitation with sulphuric acid, which partly carbonises and partly
-combines with the impurities, and separates them in the form of a foul
-and acrid black mess, known technically as ‘acid tar.’ When I was
-engaged in the distillation of cannel and shale in Flintshire, this
-acid tar was a terrible bugbear. It found its way mysteriously into the
-Alyn river and poisoned the trout; but now, if I am correctly informed,
-the Scotch manufacturers have turned it to profitable account.
-
-Animal fat and vegetable oils are similarly purified. Very
-objectionable refuse fat of various kinds is thus made into tallow,
-or material for the soap-maker, and grease for lubricating machinery.
-Unsavoury stories have been told about the manufacture of butter from
-Thames mud or the nodules of fat that are gathered therefrom by the
-mudlarks, but they are all false (see paper on ‘The Oleaginous Product
-of Thames Mud’ in ‘Science in Short Chapters’). It may be possible
-to purify fatty matter from the foulest of admixtures, and do this
-so completely as to produce a soft, tasteless fat, _i.e._ a butter
-substitute, but such a curiosity would cost more than half a crown per
-pound, and therefore the market is safe, especially as the degree of
-purification required for soap-making and machinery grease costs but
-little and the demand for such fat is very great.
-
-These methods of purification are not available in the kitchen, as oil
-of vitriol is a vicious compound. During the siege of Paris some of the
-Academicians devoted themselves very earnestly to the subject of the
-purification of fat in order to produce what they termed ‘siege butter’
-from the refuse of slaughter-houses, &c., and edible salad oils from
-crude colza oil, from the rancid fish oils used by the leather-dresser,
-&c. Those who are specially interested in the subject may find some
-curious papers in the ‘Comptes Rendus’ of that period. In vol. lxxi.,
-page 36, M. Boillot describes his method of mixing kitchen-stuff and
-other refuse fat with lime-water, agitating the mixture when heated,
-and then neutralising with an acid. The product thus obtained is
-described as admirably adapted for culinary operations, and the method
-is applicable to the purpose here under consideration.
-
-Further on in the same volume is a ‘Note on Suets and Alimentary Fats’
-by M. Dubrunfaut, who tells us that the most tainted of alimentary fats
-and rancid oils may be deprived of their bad odours by ‘appropriate
-frying.’ His method is to raise the temperature of the fat to 140°
-to 150° Cent. (284° to 302° Fahr.) in a frying-pan; then cautiously
-sprinkle upon it small quantities of water. The steam carries off
-the volatile fatty acids which produce the rancidity in such as fish
-oils, and also removes the neutral offensive fatty matters that are
-decomposable by heat. In another paper by M. Fua this method is applied
-to the removal of cellular tissue of crude fats from slaughter-houses.
-It is really nothing more than the old farmhouse proceeding of
-‘rendering’ lard, by frying the membranous fat until the membranous
-matter is browned and aggregated into small nodules, which constitute
-the ‘scratchings’—a delicacy greatly relished by our British ploughboys
-at pig-killing time, but rather too rich in pork-fat to supply a
-suitable meal for people of sedentary vocations.
-
-The action of heat thus applied and long-continued is similar to that
-of the strong sulphuric acid. The impurities of the fat are organic
-matters more easily decomposable than the fat itself, or otherwise
-stated, they are dissociated into carbon and water at about 300° Fahr.,
-which is a lower temperature than that required for the dissociation of
-the pure oil or fat. By maintaining this temperature, these compounds
-become first caramelised, then carbonised nearly to blackness, when all
-their powers of offensiveness vanish.
-
-In the more violent factory process of purification by sulphuric acid
-the similar action which occurs is due to the powerful affinity of
-this acid for water: this may be strikingly shown by adding to thick
-syrup or pounded sugar about its own bulk of oil of vitriol, when a
-marvellous commotion occurs, and a magnified black cinder is produced
-by the separation of the water from the sugar.
-
-The following simple practical formula may be reduced from these data.
-When a considerable quantity of much-used frying-fat is accumulated,
-heat it to about 300° Fahr., as indicated by the crackling of water
-when sprinkled on it, or, better still, by a properly-constructed
-thermometer. Then pour the melted fat on hot water. This must be
-done carefully, as a large quantity of fat at 300° poured upon a
-small quantity of boiling water will illustrate the fact that water
-when suddenly heated is an explosive compound. The quantity of water
-should exceed that of the fat, and the pouring be done gradually.
-Then agitate the fat and water together, and, if the operator is
-sufficiently skilful and intelligent, the purification may be carried
-further by carefully boiling the water under the fat and allowing its
-steam to pass through; but this is a little dangerous, on account of
-the possibility of what the practical chemist calls ‘bumping,’ or the
-sudden formation of a big bubble of steam that would kick a good deal
-of the superabundant fat into the fire.
-
-Whether this supplementary boiling is carried out or not, the fat and
-the water should be left together to cool gradually, when a dark layer
-of carbonised impurities will be found resting on the surface of the
-water, and adhering to the bottom of the cake of fat. This may be
-peeled off and put into the waste grease-pot to be further refined with
-the next operation. Ultimately the worst of it will sink to the bottom
-of the water.
-
-A careful cook may keep the supply of frying fat continually good, by
-simply pouring it into a basin (a deep pudding-basin with small area
-at bottom is best), letting it solidify there, and then paring away
-the bottom sediment. Even this dirty-looking sediment need not be
-altogether wasted. When a considerable quantity has accumulated it may
-be purified by the method of Dubrunfaut and Fua above described.
-
-As ordinary thermometers register but little above 212°, and laboratory
-thermometers are too delicately constructed for kitchen use, I
-requested Messrs. Davis & Co. to construct a special thermometer for
-testing the temperature of heated fat. They have accordingly made an
-instrument that answers the purpose very well. It is like a laboratory
-thermometer, _i.e._ a glass tube with long bulb and the degrees
-engraved on the glass itself, but the bulb is turned at right angles to
-the tube, so that it is horizontal when the tube stands perpendicular,
-and lies under a stand just above the level of the bottom of the
-kettle. The instrument thus stands alone firmly, with its bulb fully
-immersed even in a very shallow bath of fat.
-
-Gouffé says: ‘Fat is the best for frying; the light-coloured dripping
-of roast meat, and the fat taken off broth are to be preferred. These
-failing, beef suet, chopped fine and melted down on a slow fire,
-without browning, will do very well; when the bottom of the stewpan can
-be seen through the suet, it is sufficiently melted.’ He is no advocate
-for lard, ‘as it always leaves an unpleasant coating of fat on whatever
-is fried in it.’ Olive oil of the best quality is almost absolutely
-tasteless, and having as high a boiling point as animal fats it is
-the best of all frying media. In this country there is a prejudice
-against the use of such oil. I have noticed at some of those humble but
-most useful establishments where poor people are supplied with penny
-or twopenny portions of well-cooked, good fish, that in the front is
-an inscription stating ‘only the best beef-dripping is used in this
-establishment.’ This means a repudiation of oil.
-
-On my first visit to Arctic Norway I arrived before the garnering
-and exportation of the spring cod harvest was completed. The packet
-stopped at a score or so of stations on the Lofodens and the mainland.
-Foggy weather was no impediment, as an experienced pilot free from
-catarrh could steer direct to the harbour by ‘following his nose.’ Huge
-cauldrons stood by the shore in which were stewing the last batches of
-the livers of codfish caught a month before and exposed in the meantime
-to the continuous Arctic sunshine. Their condition must be imagined,
-as I abstain from description of details. The business then proceeding
-was the extraction of the oil from these livers. It is, of course,
-‘cod-liver oil,’ but is known commercially as ‘fish oil,’ or ‘cod oil.’
-That which is sold by our druggists as cod-liver oil is described
-in Norway as ‘medicine oil,’ and though prepared from the same raw
-material, is extracted in a different manner. Only fresh livers are
-used for this, and the best quality, the ‘cold-drawn’ oil, is obtained
-by pressing the livers without stewing. Those who are unfortunately
-familiar with this carefully-prepared, highly-refined product, know
-that the fishy flavour clings to it so pertinaciously that all attempts
-to completely remove it without decomposing the oil have failed. This
-being the case, it is easily understood that the fish oil stewed so
-crudely out of the putrid or semi-putrid livers must be nauseous
-indeed. It is nevertheless used by some of the fish-fryers, and refuse
-‘Gallipoli’ (olive oil of the worst quality) is sold for this purpose.
-The oil obtained in the course of salting sardines, herrings, &c., is
-also used.
-
-Such being the case, it is not surprising that the use of oil for
-frying should, like the oil itself, be in bad odour.
-
-I dwell upon this because we are probably on what, if a fine writer, I
-should call the ‘eve of a great revolution’ in respect to frying media.
-
-Two new materials, pure, tasteless, and so cheap as to be capable
-of pushing pig-fat (lard) out of the market, have recently been
-introduced. These are cotton-seed oil and poppy-seed oil. The first
-has been for some time in the market offered for sale under various
-fictitious names, which I will not reveal, as I refuse to become a
-medium for the advertisement of anything—however good in itself—that is
-sold under false pretences.
-
-As every bale of cotton yields half a ton of seed, and every ton
-of seed may be made to yield 28 lbs. to 32 lbs. of crude oil, the
-available quantity is very great. At present only a small quantity
-is made, the surplus seed being used as manure. Its fertilising
-value would not be diminished by removing the oil, which is only a
-hydro-carbon, _i.e._ material supplied by air and water. All the
-fertilising constituents of the seed are left behind in the oil-cake
-from which the oil has been pressed.
-
-Hitherto cotton-seed oil has fallen among thieves. It is used as an
-adulterant of olive oil; sardines and pilchards are packed in it. The
-sardine trade has declined lately, some say from deficient supplies of
-the fish. I suspect that there has been a decline in the demand due to
-the substitution of this oil for that of the olive. Many people who
-formerly enjoyed sardines no longer care for them, and they do not know
-why. The substitution of cotton-seed oil explains this in most cases.
-It is not rancid, has no decided flavour, but still is unpleasant when
-eaten raw, as with salads or sardines. It has a flat, cold character,
-and an after taste that is faintly suggestive of castor oil; but faint
-as it is, it interferes with the demand for a purely luxurious article
-of food. This delicate defect is quite inappreciable in the results
-of its use as a frying medium. The very best lard or ordinary kitchen
-butter, eaten cold, has more of objectionable flavour than refined
-cotton-seed oil.
-
-I have not tasted poppy-seed oil, but am told that it is similar
-to that from the cotton-seed. As regards the quantities available,
-some idea may be formed by plucking a ripe head from a garden poppy
-and shaking out the little round seeds through the windows on the
-top. Those who have not tried this will be astonished at the numbers
-produced by each flower. As poppies are largely cultivated for the
-production of opium, and the yield of the drug itself by each plant is
-very small, the supplies of oil may be considerable; 571,542 cwt. of
-seeds were exported from India last year, of which 346,031 cwt. went to
-France.
-
-Palm oil, though at present practically unknown in the kitchen, may
-easily become an esteemed material for the frying-kettle. At present,
-the familiar uses of palm oil in candle-making and for railway grease
-will cause my suggestion to shock the nerves of many delicate people,
-but these should remember that before palm oil was imported at all,
-the material from which candles and soap were made, and by which
-cart wheels and heavy machinery were greased, was tallow—_i.e._ the
-fat of mutton and beef. The reason why our grandmothers did not use
-candles for frying when short of dripping or suet was that the mutton
-fat constituting the candle was impure, so are the yellow candles
-and yellow grease in the axle-boxes of the railway carriages. This
-vegetable fat is quite as inoffensive in itself, quite as wholesome,
-and—sentimentally regarded—less objectionable, than the fat obtained
-from the carcass of a slaughtered animal.
-
-When common sense and true sentiment supplant mere unreasoning
-prejudice, vegetable oils and vegetable fats will largely supplant
-those of animal origin in every element of our dietary. We are but just
-beginning to understand them. Chevreul, who was the first to teach us
-the chemistry of fats, is still living, and we are only learning how to
-make butter (not ‘inferior Dorset,’ but ‘choice Normandy’) without the
-aid of dairy produce. There is, therefore, good reason for anticipating
-that the inexhaustible supplies of oil obtainable from the vegetable
-world—especially from tropical vegetation—will ere long be freely
-available for kitchen uses, and the now popular product of the Chicago
-hog factories will be altogether banished therefrom, and used only for
-greasing cart-wheels and other machinery.
-
-As a practical conclusion of this part of my subject, I will quote
-from the ‘Oil Trade Review’ of this month, December 1884, the current
-wholesale prices of some of the oils possibly available for frying
-purposes: olive oil, from 43_l._ to 90_l._ per tun of 252 gallons;
-cod oil, 36_l._ per tun; sardine or train (_i.e._ the oil that drains
-from pilchards, herrings, sardines, &c., when salted), 27_l._ 10_s._
-to 28_l._ per tun; cocoanut, from 35_l._ to 38_l._ per ton of 20 cwt.
-(This, in the case of oil, is nearly the same as the measured tun.)
-Palm, from 38_l._ to 40_l._ 10_s._ per ton; palm-nut or copra, 31_l._
-10_s._ per ton; refined cotton-seed, 30_l._ 10_s._ to 31_l._ per ton;
-lard, 53_l._ to 55_l._ per ton. The above are the extreme ranges of
-each class. I have not copied the technical names and prices of the
-intermediate varieties. One penny per lb. is = 9_l._ 6_s._ 8_d._ per
-ton, or, in round numbers, 1_l._ per ton may be reckoned as 1/9th of a
-penny per lb. Thus the present price of best refined cotton-seed oil
-is 3½_d._ per lb.; of cocoanut oil, 3¾_d._; palm oil, from 3½_d._ to
-4½_d._, while lard costs 6_d._ per lb. wholesale.
-
-I should add, in reference to the seed-oils, that there is a possible
-objection to their use as frying media. Oils extracted from seeds
-contain more or less of _linoleine_ (so named from its abundance in
-linseed oil), which, when exposed to the air, combines with oxygen,
-swells and dries. If the oil from cotton-seed or poppy-seed contains
-too much of this, it will thicken inconveniently when kept for a length
-of time exposed to the air. Palm oil is practically free from it, but
-I am doubtful respecting palm-nut oil, as most of the nut oils are
-‘driers.’
-
-Extravagant cooks delude confiding mistresses by demanding butter for
-ordinary frying. A veneration for costliness is one of the vulgar
-vices, especially dominant below stairs. In many cases a worse motive
-induces the denunciation of the dripping and skimmed fat recommended by
-Gouffé as above, and the substitution of lard or butter for it. This is
-the practice of selling the dripping as ‘kitchen stuff.’
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[9] The necessity for this is not so great as may appear theoretically.
-I have tried the experiment of having veal cutlets fried in a bath
-previously used for fish, and was not able to detect any fishy flavour
-as I expected I should. This was the case even when I knew that the
-fish fat had been used, and I was consequently far more critical than
-under ordinary circumstances. Even apple-fritters may be cooked in fat
-that has been used for fish. I have tried this since the above was
-written and am surprised at the result.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-STEWING.
-
-
-SOME of my readers may think that I ought to have treated this in
-connection with the boiling of meat, as boiling and stewing are
-commonly regarded as mere modifications of the same process. According
-to my mode of regarding the subject, _i.e._ with reference to the
-object to be attained, they are opposite processes.
-
-The object in the so-called ‘boiling’ of, say, a leg of mutton, is to
-raise the temperature of the meat throughout just up to the cooking
-temperature in such a manner that it shall as nearly as possible retain
-all its juices; the hot water merely operating as a vehicle or medium
-for conveying the heat.
-
-In stewing nearly all this is reversed. The juices are to be extracted
-more or less completely, and the water is required to act as a solvent
-as well as a heat-conveyor. Instead of the meat itself surrounding and
-enveloping the juices as it should when boiled, roasted, grilled, or
-fried, we demand in a stew that the juices shall surround or envelop
-the meat. In some cases the separation of the juices is the sole
-object, as in the preparation of certain soups and gravies, of which
-‘beef-tea’ may be taken as a typical example. _Extractum carnis_, or
-Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat’ is beef-tea (or mutton-tea) concentrated by
-evaporation.
-
-The juices of lean meat may be extracted very completely without
-cooking the meat at all, merely by mincing it and then placing it in
-cold water. _Maceration_ is the proper name for this treatment. The
-philosophy of this is interesting, and so little understood in the
-kitchen that I must explain its rudiments.
-
-If two liquids capable of mixing together, but of different densities,
-be placed in the same vessel, the denser at the bottom, they will
-mix together in defiance of gravitation, the heavy liquid rising and
-spreading itself throughout the lighter, and the lighter descending and
-diffusing itself through the heavier.
-
-Thus, concentrated sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol) which has nearly
-double the density of water, may be placed under water by pouring water
-in a tall glass jar, and then carefully pouring the acid down a funnel
-with a long tube, the bottom end of which touches the bottom of the
-jar. At first the heavy liquid pushes up the lighter, and its upper
-surface may be distinctly seen with that of the lighter resting upon
-it. This is better shown if the water be coloured by a blue tincture
-of litmus, which is reddened by the acid. A red stratum indicates the
-boundaries of the two liquids. Gradually the reddening proceeds upwards
-and downwards, the whole of the water changes from blue to red, and the
-acid becomes tinged.
-
-Graham worked for many years upon the determination of the laws of this
-diffusion, and the rates at which different liquids diffused into each
-other. His method was to fill small jars of uniform size and shape
-(about 4 oz. capacity) with the saline or other dense solution, place
-upon the ground mouth of the jar a plate-glass cover, then immerse it,
-when filled, in a cylindrical glass vessel containing about 20 oz. of
-distilled water. The cover being very carefully removed, diffusion was
-allowed to proceed for a given time, and then by analysis the amount of
-transfer into the distilled water was determined.
-
-I must resist the temptation to expound the very interesting results
-of these researches, merely stating that they prove this diffusion
-to be no mere accidental mixing, but an action that proceeds with a
-regularity reducible to simple mathematical laws. One curious fact
-I may mention—viz. that on comparing the solutions of a number of
-different salts, those which crystallise in the same forms have similar
-rates of diffusion. The law that bears the most directly upon cookery
-is that ‘the quantity of any substance diffused from a solution of
-uniform strength increases as the temperature rises.’ The application
-of this will be seen presently.
-
-It may be supposed that if the jar used in Graham’s diffusion
-experiments were tied over with a mechanically air-tight and
-water-tight membrane, the brine or other saline solution thus confined
-in the jar could not diffuse itself into the pure water above and
-around it; people who are satisfied with anything that ‘stands to
-reason’ would be quite sure that a bladder which resists the passage of
-water, even when the water is pressed up to the bursting-point, cannot
-be permeable to a most gentle and spontaneous flow of the same water.
-The true philosopher, however, never trusts to any reasoning, not even
-mathematical demonstration, until its conclusions are verified by
-observations and experiment. In this case all rational preconceptions
-or mathematical calculations based upon the amount of attractive force
-exerted between the particles of the different liquids are outraged by
-the facts.
-
-If a stout, well-tied bladder that would burst rather than allow a
-drop of water to be squeezed mechanically through it be partially
-filled with a solution of common washing soda, and then immersed in
-distilled water, the soda will make its way out of the bladder by
-passing through its walls, and the pure water will go in at the same
-time; for if, after some time is allowed, the outer water be tested by
-dipping into it a strip of red litmus paper, it will be turned blue,
-showing the presence of the alkali therein, and if the contents of the
-bladder be weighed or measured, they will be found to have increased by
-the inflow of fresh water. This inflow is called _endosmosis_, and the
-outflow of the solution is called _exosmosis_. If an indiarubber bottle
-be filled with water and immersed in alcohol or ether, the endosmosis
-of the spirit will be so powerfully exerted as to distend the bottle
-considerably. If the bottle be filled with alcohol or ether, and
-surrounded by water, it will nearly empty itself.
-
-The force exerted by this action is displayed by the rising of the sap
-from the rootlets of a forest giant to the cells of its topmost leaves.
-Not only plants, but animals also, are complex osmotic machines. There
-is scarcely any vital function—if any at all—in which this osmosis does
-not play an important part. I have no doubt that the mental effort I am
-at this moment exerting is largely dependent upon the endosmosis and
-exosmosis that is proceeding through the delicate membranes of some of
-the many miles of blood-vessels that ramify throughout the grey matter
-of my brain.
-
-But I must wander no farther beyond the kitchen, having already said
-enough to indicate that _diosmosis_ (which is the general term used
-for expressing the actions of endosmosis and exosmosis as they occur
-simultaneously) does the work of extracting the permanent juices of
-meat when it is immersed in either hot or cold water.
-
-I say _permanent_ juices with intent, in order to exclude the albumen,
-which being coagulable at the lowest cooking temperature is not
-permanent. It is one of that class of bodies to which Graham gave the
-name of colloids (glue-like), such as starch, dextrin, gum, &c., to
-distinguish them from another class, the crystalloids, or bodies that
-crystallise on solidification. The latter diffuse and pass through
-membranes by diosmosis readily, the colloids very sluggishly. Thus a
-solution of Epsom salts diffuses seven times as rapidly as albumen, and
-fourteen times as rapidly as caramel.
-
-The difference is strikingly illustrated by the different diffusibility
-of a solution of ordinary crystalline sugar and that of barley-sugar
-and caramel, the latter being amorphous or formless colloids that dry
-into a gummy mass when their solutions are evaporated, instead of
-forming crystals as the original sugar did.
-
-Some of the juices of meat, as already explained, exist between its
-fibres, others are within those fibres or cells, enveloped in the
-sheath or cell membrane. It is evident that the loose or free juices
-will be extracted by simple diffusion, those enveloped in membranes by
-exosmosis through the membrane. The result must be the same in both
-cases; the meat will be permeated by the water, and the surrounding
-water will be permeated by the juices that originally existed within
-the meat. As the rate of diffusion—other conditions being equal—is
-proportionate to the extent of the surfaces of the diverse liquids that
-are exposed to each other, and as the rate of diosmosis is similarly
-proportioned to the exposure of membrane, it is evident that the
-cutting-up of the meat will assist the extraction of its juices by the
-creation of fresh surfaces; hence the well-known advantage of mincing
-in the making of beef-tea.
-
-It is interesting to observe the condition of lean meat that has thus
-been minced and exposed for a few hours to these actions by immersion
-in cold water. On removing and straining such minced meat it will be
-found to have lost its colour, and if it is now cooked it is insipid,
-and even nauseous if eaten in any quantity. It has been given to dogs
-and cats and pigs; these, after eating a little, refuse to take more,
-and when supplied with this juiceless meat alone, they languish, become
-emaciated, and die of starvation if the experiment is continued.
-Experiments of this kind contributed to the fallacious conclusions of
-the French Academicians. Although the meat from which the juices are
-thus completely extracted is quite worthless _alone_, and meat from
-which they are partially extracted is nearly worthless _alone_, either
-of them becomes valuable when eaten with the juices. The stewed beef
-of the Frenchman would deserve the contempt bestowed upon it by the
-prejudiced Englishman if it were eaten as the Englishman eats his roast
-beef; but when preceded by a _potage_ containing the juices of the beef
-it is quite as nutritious as if roasted, and more easily digested.
-
-Graham found that increase of temperature increases the rate of
-diffusion of liquids, and in accordance with this the extraction of the
-juices of meat is effected more rapidly by warm than by cold water;
-but there is a limit to this advantage, as will be easily understood
-from what has already been explained in Chapter III. concerning the
-coagulation of albumen, which at the temperature of 134° Fahr. begins
-to show signs of losing its fluidity; at 160° becomes a semi-opaque
-jelly; at the boiling point of water is a rather tough solid; and if
-kept at this temperature, shrinks, and becomes harder and harder,
-tougher and tougher, till it attains a consistence comparable to that
-of horn tempered with gutta-percha.
-
-I have spoken of beef-tea, or _Extractum carnis_ (Liebig’s ‘Extract of
-Meat’), as an extreme case of extracting the juices of meat, and must
-now explain the difference between this and the juices of an ordinary
-stew. Supposing the juices of the meat to be extracted by maceration in
-cold water, and the broth thus obtained to be heated in order to alter
-its raw flavour, a scum will be seen to rise upon the surface; this is
-carefully removed in the manufacture of Liebig’s ‘Extract,’ or in the
-preparation of beef-tea for an invalid, but in thus skimming we remove
-a highly-nutritious constituent—viz. the albumen, which has coagulated
-during the heating. The pure beef-tea, or _Extractum carnis_, contains
-only the kreatine, kreatinine, the soluble phosphates, the lactic
-acid, and other non-coagulable saline constituents, that are rather
-stimulating than nutritious, and which, properly speaking, are not
-digested at all—_i.e._ they are not converted into chyme in the
-stomach, do not pass through the pylorus into the duodenum, &c., but,
-instead of this, their dilute solution passes, like the water we drink,
-directly into the blood by endosmosis through the delicate membrane of
-that marvellous network of microscopic blood-vessels which is spread
-over the surface of every one of the myriads of little upstanding
-filaments which, by their aggregation, constitute the villous or velvet
-coat of the stomach. In some states of prostration, where the blood
-is insufficiently supplied with these juices, this endosmosis is like
-pouring new life into the body, but it is not what is required for the
-normal sustenance of the healthy body.
-
-For ordinary food, all the nutritious constituents should be retained,
-either in the meat itself or in its liquid surrounding. Regarding it
-theoretically, I should demand the retention of the albumen in the
-meat, and insist upon its remaining there in the condition of tender
-semi-solidity, corresponding to the white of an egg when perfectly
-cooked, as described in page 22. Also that the gelatin and fibrin be
-softened by sufficient digestion in hot water, and that the saline
-juices (those constituting beef-tea) be _partially_ extracted. I say
-‘partially,’ because their complete extraction, as in the case of
-the macerated minced-meat, would too completely rob the meat of its
-sapidity. How, then, may these theoretical desiderata be attained?
-
-It is evident from the principles already expounded that cold
-extraction takes out the albumen, therefore this must be avoided; also
-that boiling water will harden the albumen to leathery consistence.
-This may be shown experimentally by subjecting an ordinary beefsteak to
-the action of boiling water for about half an hour. It will come out in
-the abominable condition too often obtained by English cooks when they
-make an attempt at stewing—an unknown art to the majority of them. Such
-an ill-used morsel defies the efforts of ordinary human jaws, and is
-curiously curled and distorted. This toughening and curling is a result
-of the coagulation, hardening, and shrinkage of the albumen as already
-described.
-
-It is evident, therefore, that neither cold water nor boiling water
-should be used in stewing, but water at the temperature at which
-albumen just begins to coagulate—_i.e._ about 134°, or between this and
-160° as the extreme. My definition of stewing demands a qualification
-as regards the albumen. Although this is one of the juices of the
-meat when cold, it should not be extracted in ordinary stewing, as it
-is in the maceration for beef-tea, and thereby appear as a scum to be
-rejected. It should be barely coagulated, and thus retained in the meat
-in as tender a condition as possible. Being a colloid (see _ante_,
-page 115) its liability to diffusion is small. But here we encounter
-a serious difficulty. How is the unscientific cook to determine and
-maintain this temperature? If you tell her that the water must not
-boil, she shifts her stewpan to the side of the fire, where it shall
-only simmer, and she firmly believes that such simmering water has a
-lower temperature than water that is boiling violently over the fire.
-‘It stands to reason’ that it must be so, and if the experimental
-philosopher appeals to fact and the evidence of the thermometer, he is
-a ‘theorist.’
-
-The French cook escapes this simmering delusion by her common use of
-the _bain-marie_ or ‘water-bath,’ as we call it in the laboratory,
-where it is also largely used for ‘digesting’ at temperatures below
-212°. This is simply a vessel immersed in an outer vessel of water.
-The water in the outer vessel may boil, but that in the inner vessel
-cannot, as its evaporation keeps it below the temperature of the water
-from which its heat is derived. A carpenter’s glue-pot is a very good
-and compact form of water-bath. Some ironmongers keep in stock a form
-of water-bath which they call a ‘milk-scalder.’ This resembles the
-glue-pot, but has an inner vessel of earthenware which is, of course, a
-great improvement upon the carpenter’s device, as it may be so easily
-cleaned. Captain Warren’s, and other similar ‘cooking-pots,’ may be
-used as water-baths by removing the cover of the inner vessel.
-
-One of the incidental advantages of the _bain-marie_ is that the
-stewing may be performed in earthenware or even glass vessels, seeing
-that they are not directly exposed to the fire. Other forms of such
-double vessels are obtainable at the best ironmongers. I have lately
-seen a very neat apparatus of this kind, called ‘Dolby’s Extractor,’
-made by Messrs. Griffiths & Browett of Birmingham. This consists of
-an earthenware vessel that rests on a ledge, and thus hangs in an
-outer tin-plate vessel; but, instead of water, there is an air space
-surrounding the earthenware pot. A top screws over this, and the whole
-stands in an ordinary saucepan of water. The heat is thus very slowly
-and steadily communicated through an air-bath, and it makes excellent
-beef-tea.
-
-At temperatures _below the boiling point_ evaporation proceeds
-superficially, and the rate of evaporation at a given temperature
-is proportionate to the surface exposed, irrespective of the total
-quantity of water; therefore, the shallower the inner vessel of the
-_bain-marie_, and the greater its upper outspread, the lower will be
-the temperature of its liquid contents when its sides and bottom are
-heated by boiling water. The water in a basin-shaped inner vessel will
-have a lower temperature than that in a vessel of similar depth, with
-upright sides, and exposing an equal water surface. A good water-bath
-for stewing may be extemporised by using a common pudding-basin (I mean
-one with projecting rim, as used for tying down the pudding-cloth), and
-selecting a saucepan just big enough for this to drop into, and rest
-upon its rim. Put the meat, &c., to be stewed into the basin, pour hot
-water over them, and hot water into the saucepan, so that the basin
-shall be in a water-bath; then let this outer water simmer—very gently,
-so as not to jump the basin with its steam. Stew thus for about double
-the time usually prescribed in English cookery-books, and compare the
-result with similar materials stewed in boiling or ‘simmering’ water.
-
-I have already (page 91) referred to the frying that, in most cases,
-should precede stewing. It not only supplies the caramel browning there
-described, but moderates the extraction of the juices which, as I have
-said above, is desirable on the part of the meat itself when gravy is
-not the primary object.
-
-Some further explanation is here necessary, as it is quite possible to
-obtain what commonly passes for tenderness by a very flagrant violation
-of the principles above expounded. This is done on a large scale and
-in extreme degree in the preparation of ordinary Australian tinned
-meat. A number of tins are filled with the meat, and soldered down
-close, all but a small pin-hole. They are then placed in a bath charged
-with a saline substance, such as chloride of zinc, which has a higher
-boiling point than water. This is heated up to its boiling point,
-and consequently the water which is in the tins with the meat boils
-vigorously, and a jet of steam mixed with air blows from the pin-hole.
-When all the air is expelled, and the jet is of pure steam only (a
-difference detected at once by the trained expert), the tin is removed,
-and a little melted solder skilfully dropped on the hole to seal the
-tin hermetically. An examination of one of these tins will show this
-final soldering with, in some, a flap below to prevent any solder from
-falling in amongst the meat. The object of this is to exclude all air,
-for if only a very small quantity remains, oxidation and putrefaction
-speedily ensues, as shown by a bulging of the tins instead of the
-partial collapse that should occur when the steam condenses, the
-display of which collapse is an indication of the good quality of the
-contents.
-
-By ‘good quality’ I mean good of its kind; but, as everybody knows who
-has tried beef and mutton thus prepared, it is not satisfactory. The
-preservation from putrefactive decomposition is perfectly successful,
-and all the original constituents of the meat are there. It is
-_apparently_ tender, but _practically_ tough—_i.e._ it falls to pieces
-at a mere touch of the knife, but these fragments offer to the teeth
-a peculiar resistance to proper mastication. I may describe their
-condition as one of pertinacious fibrosity. The fibres separate, but
-they are stubborn fibres still.
-
-This is a very serious matter, for, were it otherwise, the great
-problem of supplying our dense population with an abundance of cheap
-animal food would have been solved about twenty years ago. As it is,
-the plain tinned-meat enterprise has not developed to any important
-extent beyond affording a variation with salt junk on board ship.
-
-What is the _rationale_ of this defect? Beyond the general statement
-that the meat is ‘overdone,’ I have met with no attempt at explanation,
-but am not, therefore, disposed to give up the riddle without
-attempting a solution.
-
-Reverting to what I have already said concerning the action of heat on
-the constituents of flesh, it is evident that in the first place the
-long exposure to the boiling point must harden the albumen. _Syntonin_,
-or _muscle-fibrin_, the material of the ultimate contractile fibres
-of the muscle, is coagulated by boiling water, and further hardened
-by continuous boiling, in the same manner as albumen. Thus the
-muscle-fibres themselves, and the lubricating liquor[10] in which they
-are imbedded, must be simultaneously toughened by the method above
-described, and this explains the pertinacious fibrosity of the result.
-
-But how is the apparent tenderness, the facile separation of the
-fibres of the same meat produced? A little further examination of the
-anatomy and chemistry of muscle will, I think, explain this quite
-satisfactorily. The ultimate fibres of the muscles are enveloped in
-a very delicate membrane; a bundle of these is again enveloped in a
-somewhat stronger membrane (_areolar tissue_); and a number of these
-bundles of _fasciculi_ are further enveloped in a proportionally
-stronger sheath of similar membrane. All these binding membranes are
-mainly composed of gelatin, or the substance which produces gelatin
-when boiled. The boiling that is necessary to drive out all the air
-from the tins is sufficient to dissolve this, and effect that easy
-separability of the muscular fibres, or fasciculi of fibres, that gives
-to such overcooked meat its fictitious tenderness.
-
-I am, however, doubtful whether _all_ the gelatin of these membranes
-is thus dissolved. The jelly existing in the tins shows that some
-is dissolved and hydrated, if my theory of the cookery is right;
-but there does not appear to be as much of this jelly as would be
-formed by the stewing of a corresponding quantity of meat at a lower
-temperature. Some of the membranous gelatin is, I suspect, dehydrated
-when the highest temperature of the process is attained—_i.e._ when
-the concentration of the juices raises the boiling point of their
-solution considerably above that of pure water. This, if I am right,
-would check further solution of the membrane, would hydrate and harden
-the remainder, and thus contribute to the hardening of the fibre above
-described.
-
-I have entered into these anatomical and chemical details because it is
-only by understanding them that the difference between true tenderness
-and spurious tenderness of stewed meat can be soundly understood,
-especially in this country, where stewed meats are despised because
-scientific stewing is practically and generally an unknown art. Ask an
-English cook the difference between boiled beef or mutton and stewed
-beef or mutton, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred her reply
-will be to the effect that stewed meat is that which has been boiled or
-simmered for a longer time than the boiled meat.
-
-She proceeds, in accordance with this definition, when making an Irish
-stew or similar dish, by ‘simmering’ at 212° until, by the coagulation
-and hardening of the albumen and syntonin, a leathery mass is obtained;
-then she continues the simmering until the gelatin of the areolar
-tissue is partially dissolved, and the toughened fibres separate
-or become readily separable. Having achieved this disintegration,
-she supposes the meat to be tender, the fact being that the fibres
-individually are tougher than they were at the leathery stage. The
-mischief is not limited to the destruction of the flavour of the meat,
-but includes the destruction of the nutritive value of its solid
-portion by rendering it all indigestible, with the exception of the
-gelatin, which is dissolved in the gravy.
-
-This exception should be duly noted, inasmuch as it is the one
-redeeming feature of such proceeding that renders it fairly well
-adapted for the cookery of such meat as cow-heels, sheeps’-trotters,
-calves’-heads, shins of beef, knuckles of veal, and other viands which
-consist mainly of membranous, tendinous, or integumentary matter
-composed of gelatin. To treat the prime parts of good beef or mutton in
-this manner is to perpetrate a domestic atrocity.
-
-I may here mention an experiment that I have made lately. I killed a
-superannuated hen—more than six years old, but otherwise in very good
-condition. Cooked in the ordinary way she would have been uneatably
-tough. Instead of being thus cooked, she was gently stewed about
-four hours. I cannot guarantee to the maintenance of the theoretical
-temperature, having suspicion of _some_ simmering. After this she
-was left in the water until it cooled, and on the following day was
-roasted in the usual manner—_i.e._ in a roasting oven. The result was
-excellent; as tender as a full-grown chicken roasted in the ordinary
-way, and of quite equal flavour, in spite of the very good broth
-obtained by the preliminary stewing. This surprised me. I anticipated
-the softening of the tendons and ligaments, but supposed that the
-extraction of the juices would have spoiled the flavour. It must have
-diluted it, and that so much remained was probably due to the fact that
-an old fowl is more fully flavoured than a young chicken. The usual
-farmhouse method of cooking old hens is to stew them simply, the rule
-in the Midlands being one hour in the pot for every year of age. The
-feature of the above experiment was the supplementary roasting. As the
-laying season comes to an end, old hens become a drug in the market;
-and those among my readers who have not a hen-roost of their own will
-much oblige their poulterers by ordering a hen that is warranted to
-be four years old or upwards. If he deals fairly he will supply a
-specimen upon which they may repeat my experiment very cheaply. It
-offers the double economy of utilising a nearly waste product, and
-obtaining chicken-broth and roast fowl simultaneously.
-
-Another experiment on the cooking of old hens was recently made by a
-neighbour at my suggestion, and proved very successful. The bird was
-cut up and gently stewed in fat like the small joints of my experiments
-described in p. 57.
-
-I have not yet repeated this experiment, but when I do shall use bacon
-liquor (the surplus fat from grilled bacon) for the bath, and hope
-thereby to obtain an approach to the effect of ‘larding,’ as practised
-in luxurious cookery.
-
-One of the great advantages of stewing is that it affords a means of
-obtaining a savoury and very wholesome dish at a minimum of cost. A
-small piece of meat may be stewed with a large quantity of vegetables,
-the juice of the meat savouring the whole. Besides this, it costs far
-less fuel than roasting.
-
-The wife of the French or Swiss landed proprietor—_i.e._ a working
-peasant—cooks the family dinner with less than a tenth of the
-expenditure of fuel used in England for the preparation of an inferior
-meal. A little charcoal under her _bain-marie_ does it all. The economy
-of time corresponds to the economy of fuel, for the mixture of viands
-required for the stew once put into the pot is left to itself until
-dinner-time, or at most an occasional stirring of fresh charcoal into
-the embers is all that is demanded.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[10] I have ventured to ascribe this lubricating function to the
-albumen which envelopes the fibres, though doubtful whether it is quite
-orthodox to do so. Its identity in composition with the synovial liquor
-of the joints, and the necessity for such lubricant, justify this
-supposition. It may act as a nutrient fluid at the same time.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-CHEESE.
-
-
-I NOW come to a very important constituent of animal food, although
-it is not contained in beef, mutton, pork, poultry, game, fish, or
-any other organised animal substance, unless in egg yolk, as Lehmann
-states (see page 23). It is not even proved satisfactorily to exist in
-the blood, although it is somehow obtained from the blood by special
-glands at certain periods. I refer to _casein_, the substantial basis
-of cheese, which, as everybody knows, is the consolidated curd of milk.
-
-It is evident at once that casein must exist in two forms, the soluble
-and insoluble, so far as the common solvent, water, is concerned. It
-exists in the soluble form, and completely dissolved in milk, and
-insoluble in cheese. When precipitated in its insoluble or coagulated
-form as the curd of new milk it carries with it the fatty matter or
-cream, and therefore, in order to study its properties in a state of
-purity, we must obtain it otherwise. This may be done by allowing the
-fat globules of the milk to float to the surface, and then removing
-them by separating the cream as by the ordinary dairy method. We thus
-obtain in the skimmed milk a solution of casein, but there still
-remains some of the fat. This may be removed by evaporating the
-solution down to solidity, and then dissolving out the fat by means
-of ether, which leaves the soluble casein behind. The adhering ether
-being evaporated, we have a fairly pure specimen of casein in its
-original or soluble form.
-
-This, when dry, is an amber-coloured translucent substance, devoid of
-odour, and insipid. The insipidity and absence of odour of the pure
-and separated casein are noteworthy, as showing that the condition in
-which it exists in milk is very different from that of the casein of
-cheese. My object in pointing this out is to show that in the course
-of the manufacture of cheese new properties are developed. Skim-milk—a
-solution of casein—is tasteless and inodorous, while fresh cheese,
-whether made from skimmed or whole milk, has a very decided flavour and
-odour.
-
-If we now add some of our dry casein to water, it dissolves, forming a
-yellowish viscid fluid, which, on evaporation, becomes covered with a
-slight film of insoluble casein, which may be readily drawn off. Some
-of my readers will recognise in this description the resemblance of a
-now well-known domestic preparation of soluble casein, condensed milk,
-where it is mixed with much cream, and in the ordinary preparation also
-much sugar. The cream dilutes the yellowness, but does not quite mask
-it, and the viscidity is shown by the strings which follow the spoon
-when a spoonful is lifted. If a concentrated solution of pure casein is
-exposed to the air it rapidly putrefies, and passes through a series of
-changes that I must not tarry to describe, beyond stating that ammonia
-is given off, and some crystalline substances, such as _leucine_,
-_tyrosine_, &c., very interesting to the physiological chemist, but not
-important in the kitchen, are formed.
-
-A solution of casein in water is not coagulated by boiling; it may be
-repeatedly evaporated to dryness and redissolved. Upon this depends
-the practicability of preserving milk by evaporating it down, or
-‘condensing.’
-
-This condensed milk, however, loses a little; its albumen is
-sacrificed, as everybody will understand who has dipped a spoon in
-freshly-boiled milk and observed the skin which the spoon removes from
-the surface. This is coagulated albumen.
-
-If alcohol is added to a concentrated solution of casein in water,
-a pseudo-coagulation occurs; the casein is precipitated as a white
-substance like coagulated albumen, but if only a little alcohol is
-used, the solid may be redissolved in water; if, however, it is thus
-treated with strong alcohol, the casein becomes difficult of solution,
-or even quite insoluble. Alcohol added to solid soluble casein renders
-it opaque, and gives it the appearance of coagulated albumen. The
-alcohol itself dissolves a little of this.
-
-The characteristic coagulation of casein, or its conversion from the
-soluble to the insoluble form, is produced rather mysteriously by
-rennet. Acids generally precipitate it either from aqueous solution
-or from milk. The coagulation effected by mineral acids from aqueous
-solutions is not so complete as that produced by lactic acid from milk,
-or vinegar, the former coagulum being more readily redissolved by
-alkalies or weaker basic substances than the latter.
-
-A calf has four stomachs, the fourth being that which corresponds to
-ours, both in structure and functions. It is lined with a membrane
-from which is secreted the gastric juice and other fluids concerned in
-effecting the conversion of food into chyme. A weak infusion made from
-a small piece of this ‘mucous membrane’ will coagulate the casein of
-three thousand times its own quantity of milk, or the coagulation may
-be effected by placing a small piece of the stomach (usually salted
-and dried for the purpose) in the milk, and warming it for a few hours.
-
-Many theoretical attempts have been made to explain this action of the
-rennet. Simon and Liebig suppose that it acts primarily as a ferment,
-converting the sugar of milk into lactic acid, and that this lactic
-acid coagulates the casein. This theory has been controverted by Selmi
-and others, but the balance of evidence is decidedly in its favour. The
-coagulation which occurs in the living stomach when milk is taken as
-food appears to be due to the lactic acid of the gastric juice.
-
-Casein, when thoroughly coagulated by rennet, then purified and dried,
-is a hard and yellowish hornlike substance. It softens and swells in
-water, but does not dissolve therein, nor in alcohol nor weak acids.
-Strong mineral acids decompose it. Alkalies dissolve it readily, and if
-concentrated, decompose it on the application of heat. When moderately
-heated, it softens and may be drawn into threads, and becomes elastic;
-at a higher temperature it fuses, swells up, carbonises, and develops
-nearly the same products of distillation as the other protein compounds.
-
-Note the differences between this and the soluble casein above
-described, viz. that obtained by simply removing the fat from the milk,
-then evaporating away the water, but using no rennet.
-
-I have good and sufficient reasons for thus specifying the properties
-of this constituent of food. I regard it as the most important of all
-that I have to describe in connection with my subject—the science
-of cookery. It contains (as I shall presently show) more nutritious
-material than any other food that is ordinarily obtainable, and its
-cookery is singularly neglected, is practically an unknown art,
-especially in this country. We commonly eat it raw, although in its
-raw state it is peculiarly indigestible, and in the only cooked form
-familiarly known among us here, that of a Welsh rabbit, or rarebit, it
-is too often rendered still more indigestible, though this need not be
-the case.
-
-Here, in this densely-populated country, where we import so much of
-our food, cheese demands our most profound attention. The difficulties
-and cost of importing all kinds of meat, fish, and poultry are great,
-while cheese may be cheaply and deliberately brought to us from any
-part of the world where cows or goats can be fed, and it can be stored
-more readily and kept longer than other kinds of animal food. All that
-is required to render it, next to bread, the staple food of Britons is
-scientific cookery.
-
-If I shall be able, in what is to follow, to impart to my
-fellow-countrymen, and more especially countrywomen, my own convictions
-concerning the cookability, and consequent improved digestibility, of
-cheese, I shall have ‘done the State some service!’
-
-Taking muscular fibre without bone—_i.e._ selected best part of the
-meat—beef contains on an average 72½ per cent. of water; mutton, 73½;
-veal, 74½; pork, 69¾; fowl, 73¾; while Cheshire cheese contains only
-30⅓, and other cheeses about the same. Thus, at starting, we have in
-every pound of cheese rather more than twice as much solid food as in
-a pound of the best meat, or comparing with the average of the whole
-carcass, including bone, tendons, &c., the cheese has an advantage of
-three to one.
-
-The following results of Mulder’s analysis of casein, when compared
-with those by the same chemist of albumen, gelatin and fibrin,
-show that there is but little difference in the ultimate chemical
-composition of these, so far as the constituents there named are
-concerned:
-
- Casein
-
- Carbon 53·83
- Hydrogen 7·15
- Nitrogen 15·65
- Oxygen }
- Sulphur } 23·37
-
- Albumen Gelatin Fibrin
-
- Carbon 53·5 50·40 52·7
- Hydrogen 7·0 6·64 6·9
- Nitrogen 15·5 18·34 15·4
- Oxygen 22·0 24·62 23·5
- Sulphur 1·6 ” 1·2
- Phosphorus 0·4 ” 0·3
-
-We may therefore conclude that, regarding these from the point of
-view of nitrogenous or flesh-forming, and carbonaceous or heat-giving
-constituents, these chief materials of flesh and of cheese are about
-equal.
-
-The same is the case as regards the fat. The quantity in the carcass
-of oxen, calves, sheep, lambs, and pigs varies, according to Dr.
-Edward Smith, from 16 per cent. to 31·3 per cent. in moderately fatted
-animals; while in whole-milk cheeses it varies from 21·68 per cent. to
-32·31 per cent., coming down in skim-milk cheeses as low as 6·3. Dr.
-Smith includes Neufchâtel cheese, containing 18·74 per cent., among the
-whole-milk cheeses. He does not seem to be aware that the cheese made
-up between straws and sold under that name is a _ricotta_, or crude
-curd of skim-milk cheese. Its just value is about threepence per pound.
-In Italy, where it forms the basis of some delicious dishes (such as
-_budino di ricotta_[11]), it is sold for about twopence per pound, or
-less.
-
-There is a discrepancy in the published analyses of casein which
-demands explanation here, as it is of great practical importance. They
-generally correspond to the above of Mulder within small fractions, as
-shown below in those of Scherer and Dumas:
-
- Scherer Dumas
-
- Carbon 54·665 53·7
- Hydrogen 7·465 7·2
- Nitrogen 15·724 16·6
- Oxygen, sulphur 22·146 22·5
- ------- -----
- 100·000 100·0
-
-In these the 100 parts are made up without any phosphate of lime,
-while, according to Lehmann (‘Physiological Chemistry,’ vol. i. p.
-379, Cavendish Edition), ‘casein that has not been treated with acids
-contains about 6 per cent. of phosphate of lime; more, consequently,
-than is contained in any of the protein compounds we have hitherto
-considered.’
-
-From this it appears that we may have casein with, and casein without,
-this necessary constituent of food. In precipitating casein for
-laboratory analysis, acids are commonly used, and thus the phosphate
-of lime is dissolved out; but I am unable at present to tell my
-readers the precise extent to which this actually occurs in practical
-cheese-making where rennet is used. What I have at present learned
-only indicates generally that this constituent of cheese is very
-variable; and I hereby suggest to those chemists who are professionally
-concerned in the analysis of food, that they may supply a valuable
-contribution to our knowledge of this subject by simply determining
-the phosphate of lime contained in the ash of different kinds of
-cheese. I would do this myself, but, having during some ten years past
-nearly forsaken the laboratory for the writing-table, I have not the
-leisure for such work; and, worse still, have not that prime essential
-to practical research (especially of endowed research), a staff of
-obedient assistants to do the drudgery.
-
-The comparison specially demanded is between cheeses made with rennet,
-and those Dutch and factory cheeses the curd of which has been
-precipitated by hydrochloric acid. Theoretical considerations point to
-the conclusion that in the latter much or even all of the phosphate of
-lime may be left in solution in the whey, and thus the food-value of
-the cheese seriously lowered. We must, however, suspend judgment in the
-meantime.
-
-In comparing the nutritive value of cheese with that of flesh, the
-retention of this phosphate of lime corresponds with the retention of
-some of the juices of the meat, among which are the phosphates of the
-flesh.
-
-These phosphates of lime are the bone-making material of food, and have
-something to do in building up the brain and nervous matter, though not
-to the extent that is supposed by those who imagine that there is a
-special connection between phosphorus and the brain, or phosphorescence
-and spirituality. Bone contains about eleven per cent. of phosphorus,
-brain less than one per cent.
-
-The value of food in reference to its phosphate of lime is not merely
-a matter of percentage, as this salt may exist in a state of solution,
-as in milk, or as a solid very difficult of assimilation, as in bones.
-That retained in cheese is probably in an intermediate condition—not
-actually in solution, but so finely divided as to be readily dissolved
-by the acid of the gastric juice.
-
-I may mention, in reference to this, that when a child or other
-young animal takes its natural food in the form of milk, the milk is
-converted into unpressed cheese, or curd, prior to its digestion.
-
-Supposing that, on an average, cheese contains only one-half of the
-6 per cent. of phosphate of lime found, as above, in the casein, and
-taking into consideration the water contained in flesh, the bone, &c.,
-we may conclude generally that one pound of average cheese contains as
-much nutriment as three pounds of the average material of the carcass
-of an ox or sheep as prepared for sale by the butcher; or otherwise
-stated, a cheese of 20 lbs. weight contains as much food as a sheep
-weighing 60 lbs. as it hangs in the butcher’s shop.
-
-Now comes the practical question. Can we assimilate or convert into our
-own substance the cheese-food as easily as we may the flesh-food?
-
-I reply that we certainly cannot, if the cheese is eaten raw; but have
-no doubt that we may, if it be suitably cooked. Hence the paramount
-importance of this part of my subject. A Swiss or Scandinavian
-mountaineer can and does digest and assimilate raw cheese as a staple
-article of food, and proves its nutritive value by the result; but
-feebler bipeds of the plains and towns cannot do the like.
-
-I may here mention that I have recently made some experiments on
-the dissolving of cheese by adding sufficient alkali (carbonate of
-potash) to neutralise the acid it contains, in order to convert the
-casein into its original soluble form as it existed in the milk, and
-have partially succeeded both with water and milk as solvents; but
-before reporting these results in detail I will describe some of the
-practically-established methods of cooking cheese that are so curiously
-unknown or little known in this country.
-
-In the fatherland of my grandfather, Louis Gabriel Mattieu, one of the
-commonest dishes of the peasant who tills his own freehold and grows
-his own food is a _fondu_. This is a mixture of cheese and eggs, the
-cheese grated and beaten into the egg as in making omelettes, with a
-small addition of new milk or butter. It is placed in a little pan like
-a flower-pot saucer, cooked gently, served as it comes off the fire,
-and eaten from the vessel in which it is cooked. I have made many a
-hearty dinner on one of these, _plus_ a lump of black bread and a small
-bottle of genuine but thin wine; the cost of the whole banquet at a
-little _auberge_ being usually less than sixpence. The cheese is in a
-pasty condition, and partly dissolved in the milk or butter. I have
-tested the sustaining power of such a meal by doing some very stiff
-mountain climbing and long fasting after it. It is rather too good—over
-nutritious—for a man only doing sedentary work.
-
-A diluted and delicate modification of this may be made by taking
-slices of bread, or bread and butter, soaking them in a batter made
-of eggs and milk—without flour—then placing the slices of soaked
-bread in a pie-dish, covering each with a thick coating of grated
-cheese, and thus building up a stratified deposit to fill the dish.
-The surplus batter may be poured over the top; or if time is allowed
-for saturation, the trouble of preliminary soaking may be saved by
-simply pouring all the batter thus. This, when gently baked, supplies
-a delicious and highly nutritious dish. We call it ‘cheese pudding’
-at home, but my own experience convinces me that we make a mistake in
-using it to supplement the joint. It is far too nutritious for this;
-its savoury character tempts one to eat it so freely that it would be
-far wiser to use it as the Swiss peasant uses his _fondu_—_i.e._ as the
-substantial dish of a wholesome dinner.
-
-I have tested its digestibility by eating it heartily for supper. No
-nightmare has followed. If I sup on a corresponding quantity of raw
-cheese my sleep is miserably eventful.
-
-A correspondent writes as follows from the Charlotte Square Young
-Ladies’ Institution: ‘I have been trying the various ways of cooking
-cheese mentioned in your articles in “Knowledge,” and have one or two
-improvements to suggest in the making of cheese pudding. I find the
-result is much better when the bread is grated like the cheese, and
-thoroughly mixed with it; then the batter poured over both. I think you
-will also find it better when baked in a shallow tin, such as is used
-for Yorkshire pudding. This gives more of the browned surface, which
-is the best of it. Another improvement is to put some of the crumbled
-bread (on paper) in the oven till brown, and eat with it (as for game).
-I have not succeeded in making any improvement in the _fondu_ (see page
-139), which is delightful.’
-
-My recollections of the _fondu_ of the Swiss peasant being so
-eminently satisfactory on all points—nutritive or sustaining value,
-appetising flavour and economy—I have sought for a recipe in several
-cookery-books, and find at last a near approach to it in an old edition
-of Mrs. Rundell’s ‘Domestic Cookery.’ A similar dish is described in
-that useful book ‘Cre-Fydd’s Family Fare,’ under the name of ‘_Cheese
-Soufflé_ or _Fondu_.’[12] I had looked for it in more pretentious
-works, especially in the most pretentious and the most disappointing
-one I have yet been tempted to purchase, viz. the 27th edition of
-Francatelli’s ‘Modern Cook,’ a work which I cannot recommend to anybody
-who has less than 20,000_l._ a year and a corresponding luxury of liver.
-
-Amidst all the culinary monstrosities of these ‘high-class’ manuals, I
-fail to find anything concerning the cookery of cheese that is worth
-the attention of my readers. Francatelli has, under the name of ‘Eggs
-à la Suisse,’ a sort of _fondu_, but decidedly inferior to the common
-_fondu_ of the humble Swiss osteria, as Francatelli lays the eggs upon
-slices of cheese, and prescribes especially that the yolks shall not be
-broken; omits the milk, but substitutes (for high-class extravagance’
-sake, I suppose) ‘a gill of double cream,’ to be poured over the top.
-Thus the cheese is not intermingled with the egg, lest it should spoil
-the appearance of the unbroken yolks, its casein is made leathery
-instead of being dissolved, and the substitution of sixpenny worth of
-double cream for a halfpenny worth of milk supplies the high-class
-victim with fivepence halfpenny worth of biliary derangement.
-
-In Gouffé’s ‘Royal Cookery Book’ (the Household Edition of which
-contains a great deal that is really useful to an English housewife) I
-find a better recipe under the name of ‘_Cheese Soufflés_.’ He says:
-‘Put two ounces and a quarter of flour in a stewpan, with one pint and
-a half of milk; season with salt and pepper; stew over the fire till
-boiling, and should there be any lumps, strain the _soufflé_ paste
-through a tammy cloth; add seven ounces of grated Parmesan cheese, and
-seven yolks of eggs; whip the whites till they are firm, and add them
-to the mixture; fill some paper cases with it, and bake in the oven for
-fifteen minutes.’
-
-Cre-Fydd says: ‘Grate six ounces of rich cheese (Parmesan is the best);
-put it into an enamelled saucepan, with a teaspoonful of flour of
-mustard, a saltspoonful of white pepper, a grain of cayenne, the sixth
-part of a nutmeg, grated, two ounces of butter, two tablespoonfuls of
-baked flour, and a gill of new milk; stir it over a slow fire till
-it becomes like smooth, thick cream (but it must not boil); add the
-well-beaten yolks of six eggs, beat for ten minutes, then add the
-whites of the eggs beaten to a stiff froth; put the mixture into a tin
-or a cardboard mould, and bake in a quick oven for twenty minutes.
-Serve immediately.’
-
-Here is a true cookery of cheese by solution, and the result is an
-excellent dish. But there is some unnecessary complication and kitchen
-pedantry involved. The _soufflé_ part of the business is a mere puffing
-up of the mixture for the purpose of displaying the cleverness of the
-cook, being quite useless to the consumer, as it subsides before it
-can be eaten. It further involves practical mischief, as it cannot be
-obtained without toasting the surface of the cheese into an air-tight
-leathery skin that is abnormally indigestible. The following is my own
-simplified recipe:
-
-Take a quarter of a pound of grated cheese; add it to a gill of
-milk in which is dissolved as much powdered _bicarbonate of potash_
-as will stand upon a threepenny-piece; mustard, pepper, &c., as
-prescribed above by Cre-Fydd.[13] Heat this carefully until the cheese
-is completely dissolved. Then beat up three eggs, yolks and whites
-together, and add them to this solution of cheese, stirring the whole.
-Now take a shallow metal or earthenware dish or tray that will bear
-heating; put a little butter on this, and heat the butter till it
-frizzles. Then pour the mixture into the tray, and bake or fry it until
-it is nearly solidified.
-
-A cheaper dish may be made by increasing the proportion of cheese—say,
-six to eight ounces to three eggs, or only one egg to a quarter of a
-pound of cheese for a hard-working man with powerful digestion.
-
-Mr. E. D. Girdlestone writes as follows (I quote with permission): ‘As
-regards the “cheese _fondu_,” your recipe for which has enabled me to
-turn cheese to practical account as _food_, you may be glad to hear
-that it has become a common dish in our microscopic _ménage_. Indeed
-cheese, which formerly was poison to me, is now alike pleasant and
-digestible. But some of your readers may like to know that the addition
-of _bread-crumbs_ is, in my judgment at least, a great improvement,
-giving greater lightness to the compost, and removing the harshness
-of flavour otherwise incidental to a mixture which comprises so large
-a proportion of cheese. We (my wife and I) think this a _great_
-improvement.’
-
-I have received two other letters making, quite independently, the same
-suggestion concerning the bread-crumbs. I have tried the addition,
-and agree with Mr. Girdlestone that it is a great improvement as food
-for such as ourselves, who are brain-workers, and for all others
-whose occupations are at all sedentary. The undiluted _fondu_ is too
-nutritious for us, though suitable for the mountaineer.
-
-The chief difficulty in preparing this dish conveniently is that of
-obtaining suitable vessels for the final frying or baking, as each
-portion should be poured into, and fried or baked in, a separate dish,
-so that each may, as in Switzerland, have his own _fondu_ complete,
-and eat it from the dish as it comes from the fire. As demand creates
-supply, our ironmongers, &c., will soon learn to meet this demand if it
-arises. I have written to Messrs. Griffiths & Browett, of Birmingham,
-large manufacturers of what is technically called ‘hollow ware’—_i.e._
-vessels of all kinds knocked up from a single piece of metal without
-any soldering—and they have made suitable _fondu_ dishes according to
-my specification, and supply them to the shopkeepers.
-
-The bicarbonate of potash is an original novelty that will possibly
-alarm some of my non-chemical readers. I advocate its use for two
-reasons: first, it effects a better solution of the casein by
-neutralising the free lactic acid that inevitably exists in milk
-supplied to towns, and any free acid that may remain in the cheese.
-At a farmhouse, where the milk is just drawn from the cow, it is
-unnecessary for this purpose, as such new milk is itself slightly
-alkaline.
-
-My second reason is physiological, and of greater weight. Salts of
-potash are necessary constituents of human food. They exist in all
-kinds of wholesome vegetables and fruits, and in the juices of _fresh_
-meat, but _they are wanting in cheese_, having, on account of their
-great solubility, been left behind in the whey.
-
-This absence of potash appears to me to be the one serious objection to
-the free use of cheese diet. The Swiss peasant escapes the mischief by
-his abundant salads, which eaten raw contain all their potash salts,
-instead of leaving the greater part in the saucepan, as do cabbages,
-&c., when cooked in boiling water. In Norway, where salads are scarce,
-the bonder and his housemen have at times suffered greatly from scurvy,
-especially in the far north, and would be severely victimised but for
-special remedies that they use (the mottebeer, cranberry, &c., grown
-and preserved especially for the purpose). The Laplanders make a broth
-of scurvy-grass and similar herbs; I have watched them gathering these,
-and observed that the wild celery was a leading ingredient.
-
-Scurvy on board ship results from eating salt meat, the potash of which
-has escaped by exosmosis into the brine or pickle. The sailor now
-escapes it by drinking citrate of potash in the form of lime-juice, and
-by alternating salt junk with rations of tinned meats.
-
-I once lived for six days on bread and cheese only, tasting no other
-food. I had, in company with C. M. Clayton (son of the Senator of
-Delaware, who negotiated the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty), taken a passage
-from Malta to Athens in a little schooner, and expecting a three days’
-journey we took no other rations than a lump of Cheshire cheese and a
-supply of bread. Bad weather doubled the expected length of our journey.
-
-We were both young, and proud of our hardihood in bearing privations,
-were staunch disciples of Diogenes; but on the last day we succumbed,
-and bartered the remainder of our bread and cheese for some of the
-boiled horse-beans and cabbage-broth of the forecastle. The cheese,
-highly relished at first, had become positively nauseous, and our
-craving for the forecastle vegetable broth was absurd, considering the
-full view we had of its constituents and of the dirtiness of its cooks.
-
-I attribute this to the lack of potash salts in the cheese and bread.
-It was similar to the craving for common salt by cattle that lack
-necessary chlorides in their food. I am satisfied that cheese can never
-take the place in an economic dietary, otherwise justified by its
-nutritious composition, unless this deficiency of potash is somehow
-supplied. My device of using it with milk as a solvent supplies it in a
-simple and natural manner.
-
-The milk is not necessary, though preferable. I find that a solution
-of cheese may be made in water by simply grating or thinly slicing
-the cheese, and adding it to about its own bulk of water in which the
-bicarbonate of potash is dissolved.
-
-The proportion of bicarbonate, which I theoretically estimate as
-demanded for supplying the deficiency of potash, is at the rate of
-about a quarter of an ounce to the pound of cheese; and I find that
-it will bear this quantity without the flavour of the potash being
-detected. The proportion of potash in cows’ milk is more than double
-the quantity thus supplied, but I assume that the cheese loses about
-half of its original supply, and base this assumption on the fact that
-ordinary cheese contains an average of about 4 per cent. of saline
-matter, while the proportion of saline matter to the casein and fat of
-the milk amounts to 5 per cent. This is a rough practical estimate,
-kept rather below the actual quantity demanded; therefore more than the
-quarter ounce may be used with impunity. I have doubled it in some of
-my experiments, and thus have just detected the bitter flavour of the
-salt.
-
-As regards the solubility of the cheese, I should add that there are
-great differences in different samples. Generally speaking, the newer
-and milder the cheese the more soluble. Some that I have tried leave a
-stubbornly insoluble residuum, which is detestably tough. I found the
-same cheese to be unusually indigestible when eaten with bread in the
-ordinary raw state, and have reason to believe that it is what I have
-called ‘bosch cheese,’ to be described presently.
-
-The successful solution, in either alkalised milk or alkalised water,
-cools into a custard-like mass, the thickness or viscosity varying, of
-course, with the quantity of solvent. It may be kept for use a short
-time (from two or three days to two or three weeks, according to the
-weather), after which it becomes putrescent.
-
-As now well known to all concerned, a great deal of ‘butterine,’ or
-‘oleomargarine,’ or ‘margarine,’ or ‘bosch,’ is made by extracting from
-the waste fat of oxen and sheep some of its harder constituents, the
-palmitic and stearic acids, then working up the softer remainder with
-a little milk, or even without the milk, into a resemblance to butter.
-When properly prepared and honestly sold for what it is, no fair
-grounds for objection exist; but it is too commonly sold for what it is
-not—_i.e._ as butter. For cookery purposes a fair sample of ‘bosch’ is
-quite as good as ‘inferior dosset.’ I have tasted some that is scarcely
-distinguishable from best Devonshire fresh.
-
-More recently this enterprise has been further developed. Genuine
-butter is made from cream skimmed from the milk. The skimmed milk is
-then curdled, and to the whey thus precipitated a sufficient quantity
-of bosch is added to replace the butter that has been sent to market.
-A still more objectionable compound is made by using hogs’ lard as
-a substitute for the natural cream. These extraneous fats render
-the cheese more indigestible. The curd precipitated from skim-milk
-is harder and tougher than that thrown down from whole milk, and
-these added fats merely envelop the broken fragments of this. Hence
-my suspicion that the cheese leaving the above-described insoluble
-residuum was a sample of ‘bosch’ cheese.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Since the above was written I have met with the following in the
-_Times_, bringing the subject up to latest date, and I take the liberty
-of reprinting the larger part of this interesting and clearly-written
-communication:
-
- ‘IMITATED DAIRY PRODUCTS.
-
- ‘The profitable utilisation of refuse products has
- always been one of the most difficult problems which
- have confronted manufacturers. Until recently the
- disposal of skim-milk was one of the difficulties of
- the managers of butter factories, or “creameries” as
- they are termed in the United States. Similarly, the
- sale of the internal fat of animals slaughtered for
- food, with the exception of lard, was practically
- restricted to the manufacturers of soap and candles.
- It was reserved to a Frenchman, M. Mège-Mauries, to
- discover the first step towards a more profitable use
- of these substances. He showed that by a judicious
- combination of milk and the clarified fat of animals
- a substance could be produced which closely resembled
- butter. So close, indeed, is the resemblance of
- imitation butter to the real article that the skill
- of the chemist must be invoked to render detection
- positive, if the artificial butter is good of its kind.
- So recondite, indeed, is the test of the chemist that
- it depends upon the percentage of volatile oils in
- butter-fat and in caul-fat respectively.
-
- ‘Artificial butter is the result of several processes.
- The internal fat of cattle is first chopped into small
- pieces, and then passed through a huge and somewhat
- modified sausage-machine. The finely-divided suet is
- afterwards placed in suitable vessels, and heated
- up to 122° Fahr., but a higher temperature must be
- avoided, otherwise a portion of the stearine, or true
- tallow of the suet, becomes inextricably mixed with
- the oleomargarine. It need scarcely be added that the
- tallow taste would be fatal to the manufacture of a
- first-class article. The melted fat is transferred to
- casks and left to cool; afterwards it is put in small
- quantities into coarse bags, several of which are made
- into a pile with iron plates between them, and placed
- in a hydraulic press. The result is the expression of
- the pure oleomargarine as a clear yellow oil, the solid
- stearine remaining in the bags.
-
- ‘The next step is the manufacture of this oleomargarine
- into the substance which has been designated
- “butterine,” and which is quoted on the London market
- as “bosch.” The “oleo” is remelted at the lowest
- possible temperature, mixed with a certain proportion
- of milk and of butter, and then churned. The result is
- the production of a material closely resembling butter,
- in fact practically identical so far as appearance is
- concerned. It is washed, worked, and otherwise treated
- like real butter, and packed to simulate the kinds of
- butter which are most in demand on the market to which
- it is sent. In London all kinds of butter are sold, and
- we believe that they are all more or less imitated.
-
- ‘Unfortunately for the consumer of butterine, not
- all that is sold, even as butter, is made with so
- much regard to care and cleanliness, or with such
- comparatively unobjectionable materials. The demand for
- oleomargarine, which constitutes about 60 per cent.
- of the mass that is churned, has naturally raised its
- price, and various substitutes have been tried with
- more or less success. Lard has been extensively used,
- and is said to answer fairly well. Oils of various
- kinds have also had their trial, but used alone their
- melting point is too low. Earth-nut oil is used in
- small quantities by some makers in order to impart
- an agreeable flavour, especially in cases where the
- artificial butter has been “weighted” by the addition
- of water to the milk, or meal to an inferior oil.
-
- ‘The adaptation of M. Mège’s process to the imitation
- of other dairy products is a natural sequence to the
- success, in a commercial sense, which has attended
- the manufacture of artificial butter. The skim-milk
- difficulty in the American butter factories has set
- their managers to work at the problem of its conversion
- into something saleable for some time past. This
- difficulty has been increased of late years by the
- invention of the cream separator, which deprives the
- milk of practically all its cream; but on the large
- dairy farms of Denmark, where from 100 to 300 cows are
- kept and these separators are used, the skim-milk is
- made into skim-cheese, and the working classes in that
- country do not object to eat a nutritious article of
- diet which they can buy at about fourpence per pound.
- But neither the American nor the English labourer, as a
- general rule, likes a cheese that is at the same time
- exceedingly poor in fat and excessively hard to bite.
-
- ‘Obviously the first step was to add fat to the
- skim-milk so as to replace the cream which had been
- taken off. This, however, was no easy matter, for
- neither oleomargarine nor lard would mix with the
- skim-milk when directly applied. The imitation cheese
- attempted to be made in this way was wretchedly bad;
- and, when cut, the added fatty matter was found in
- streaks, and to a great extent oozed out in its
- original condition. “Lard-cheese,” in fact, soon
- became a by-word and a reproach, and it is stated that
- last year a large quantity of poor, unsophisticated
- cheese was sold under that name, and thus increased its
- evil reputation.
-
- ‘But the utilisation of the skim-milk still remained a
- necessity to the managers of the “creameries,” if they
- were to be commercially successful. The question was,
- therefore, considered whether it would not be possible
- to make an artificial cream which should replace the
- natural cream which had been taken off the milk. This
- idea was soon put to a practical test, and with most
- remarkable results.
-
- ‘The process now adopted begins with the manufacture
- of artificial cream as follows: A certain quantity of
- skim-milk is heated to about 85° Fahr., and one-half
- the quantity of either lard, oleomargarine, or olive
- oil, as the case may be. These substances are conveyed
- through separate pipes into an “emulsion” machine,
- which subdivides both materials to a surprising degree,
- while it mixes them thoroughly together—the arrangement
- insuring that the machine is regularly fed with the due
- proportions of the substances which are being used. It
- is stated that the artificial cream made with olive oil
- in this way is not objected to in the United States for
- use in tea and coffee.
-
- ‘For the manufacture of imitation cheese, about 4½
- per cent. of this imitation cream is added to the
- skim-milk. The latter being raised to 85° Fahr., and
- the former to 135° Fahr. or upwards, the mixture
- attains a temperature of about 90° Fahr. The remainder
- of the process is identical with that used in the
- manufacture of American Cheddar cheese, except that
- a special mechanical agitator is used to insure that
- the curd shall be evenly stirred and cooked, so as
- to avoid any loss of fat in the whey. Success or
- failure in the manufacture of imitation cheese seems
- to depend chiefly upon the perfect emulsion of the
- skim-milk with the fat in the preliminary process of
- making artificial cream. That having been accomplished,
- the remaining processes are said to be perfectly easy
- and satisfactory. It has been asserted by competent
- judges that the best descriptions of oleomargarine
- cheese can with difficulty, if at all, be detected from
- the ordinary American Cheddar of commerce; but the
- imitation product has nevertheless a tendency to become
- rapidly mouldy after having been cut.
-
- ‘The trade in imitation butter is now something
- enormous and increases every year; in the Netherlands
- alone there are sixty or seventy factories. Imitation
- cheese is only just beginning to appear on the London
- market, but there can be little doubt that before long
- it will compete successfully with all but the best and
- most delicate descriptions of the real article, unless
- it is branded so as to show its true character. One
- firm alone, in New York State, made 200,000 lbs. of
- imitation cheese last year, and their factories are in
- full work again this year.’
-
-My first acquaintance with the rational cookery of cheese was in the
-autumn of 1842, when I dined with the monks of St. Bernard. Being the
-only guest, I was the first to be supplied with soup, and then came
-a dish of grated cheese. Being young and bashful, I was ashamed to
-display my ignorance by asking what I was to do with the cheese, but
-made a bold dash, nevertheless, and sprinkled some of it into my soup.
-I then learned that my guess was quite correct; the prior and the monks
-did the same.
-
-On walking on to Italy I learned that there such use of cheese is
-universal. Minestra without Parmesan would in Italy be regarded as we
-in England should regard muffins and crumpets without butter. During
-the forty years that have elapsed since my first sojourn in Italy, my
-sympathies are continually lacerated when I contemplate the melancholy
-spectacle of human beings eating thin soup without any grated cheese.
-
-Not only in soups, but in many other dishes, it is similarly used.
-As an example, I may name ‘_Risotto à la Milanese_,’ a delicious,
-wholesome, and economical dish—a sort of stew composed of rice and the
-giblets of fowls, usually charged about twopence to threepence per
-portion at Italian restaurants. This, I suppose, is the reason why I
-find no recipe for it in the ‘high-class’ cookery-books. It is always
-served with grated Parmesan. The same with the many varieties of paste,
-of which macaroni and vermicelli are the best known in this country.
-
-In all these the cheese is sprinkled over, and then stirred into the
-soup, &c., while it is hot. The cheese being finely divided is fused
-at once, and thus delicately cooked. This is quite different from the
-‘macaroni cheese’ commonly prepared in England by depositing macaroni
-in a pie-dish, then covering it with a stratum of grated cheese,
-and placing this in an oven or before a fire until the cheese is
-desiccated, browned, and converted into a horny, caseous form of carbon
-that would induce chronic dyspepsia in the stomach of a wild boar if he
-fed upon it for a week.
-
-In all preparations of Italian pastes, risottos, purées, &c., the
-cheese is intimately mixed throughout, and softened and diffused
-thereby in the manner above described.
-
-The Italians themselves imagine that only their own Parmesan cheese
-is fit for this purpose, and have infected many Englishmen with the
-same idea. Thus it happens that fancy prices are paid in this country
-for that particular cheese, which nearly resembles the cheese known in
-our midland counties as ‘skim dick’—sold there at about fourpence per
-pound, or given by the farmers to their labourers. It is cheese ‘that
-has sent its butter to market,’ being made from the skim-milk which
-remains in the dairy after the pigs have been fully supplied.
-
-I have used this kind of cheese as a substitute for Parmesan, and I
-find it answers the purpose, though it has not the fine flavour of the
-best qualities of Parmesan. The only fault of our ordinary whole-milk
-English and American cheeses is that they are too rich, and cannot be
-so finely grated on account of their more unctuous structure, due to
-the cream they contain.
-
-I note that in the recipes of high-class cookery-books, where Parmesan
-is prescribed, cream is commonly added. Sensible English cooks, who use
-Cheshire, Cheddar, or good American cheese, are practically including
-the Parmesan and the cream in natural combination. By allowing these
-cheeses to dry, or by setting aside the outer part of the cheese for
-the purpose, the difficulty of grating is overcome.
-
-I have now to communicate another result of my cheese-cooking
-researches, viz. a new dish—_cheese-porridge_—or, I may say, a new
-class of dishes—cheese-porridges. They are not intended for epicures,
-who only live to eat, but for men and women who eat in order to live
-and work. These combinations of cheese are more especially fitted
-for those whose work is muscular, and who work in the open air.
-Sedentary brain-workers should use them carefully, lest they suffer
-from over-nutrition, which is but a few degrees worse than partial
-starvation.
-
-My typical cheese-porridge is ordinary oatmeal-porridge made in the
-usual manner, but to which grated cheese, or some of the cheese
-solution above described, is added, either while in the cookery-pot
-or after it is taken out, and yet as hot as possible. It should be
-sprinkled gradually and well stirred in.
-
-Another kind of cheese-porridge or cheese-pudding is made by adding
-cheese to _baked_ potatoes—the potatoes to be taken out of their skins
-and well mashed while the grated cheese is sprinkled and intermingled.
-A little milk may or may not be added, according to taste and
-convenience. This is better suited for those whose occupations are
-sedentary, potatoes being less nutritious and more easily digested than
-oatmeal. They are chiefly composed of starch, which is a heat-giver
-or fattener, while the cheese is highly nitrogenous, and supplies the
-elements in which the potato is deficient, the two together forming a
-fair approach to the theoretically demanded balance of constituents.
-
-I say _baked_ potatoes rather than boiled, and perhaps should explain
-my reasons, though in doing so I anticipate what I shall explain more
-fully when on the subject of vegetable food.
-
-Raw potatoes contain potash salts which are easily soluble in water.
-I find that when the potato is boiled some of the potash comes out
-into the water, and thus the vegetable is robbed of a very valuable
-constituent. The baked potato contains all its original saline
-constituents which, as I have already stated, are specially demanded as
-an addition to cheese-food.
-
-Hasty pudding made, as usual, of wheat flour, may be converted from an
-insipid to a savoury and highly nutritious porridge by the addition of
-cheese in like manner.
-
-The same with boiled rice, whether whole or ground, also sago, tapioca,
-and other forms of edible starch. Supposing whole rice is used—and I
-think this is the best—the cheese may be sprinkled among the grains of
-rice and well stirred or mashed up with them. The addition of a little
-brown gravy to this, with or without chicken giblets, gives us an
-Italian _risotto_. The Indian-corn stirabout of the poor Irish cottier
-would be much improved both in flavour and nutritive value by the
-addition of a little grated cheese.
-
-Pease pudding is not improved by cheese. The chemistry of this will
-come out when I explain the composition of peas, beans, &c. The same
-applies to pea soup.
-
-I might enumerate other methods of cooking cheese by thus adding it in
-a finely-divided state to other kinds of food, but if I were to express
-my own convictions on the subject I should stir up prejudice by naming
-some mixtures which many people would denounce. As an example I may
-refer to a dish which I invented more than twenty years ago—viz. fish
-and cheese pudding, made by taking the remains from a dish of boiled
-codfish, haddock, or other _white_ fish, mashing it with bread-crumbs,
-grated cheese, and ketchup, then warming in an oven and serving after
-the usual manner of scalloped fish. Any remains of oyster sauce may be
-advantageously included.
-
-I find this delicious, but others may not. I frequently add grated
-cheese to boiled fish as ordinarily served, and have lately made a fish
-sauce by dissolving grated cheese in milk with the aid of a little
-bicarbonate of potash, and adding this to ordinary melted butter.
-I suggest these cheese mixtures to others with some misgivings as
-regards palatability, after learning the revelations of Darwin on the
-persistence of heredity. It is quite possible that, being a compound of
-the Swiss Mattieu with the Welsh Williams (cheese on both sides), I may
-inherit an abnormal fondness for this staple food of the mountaineers.
-
-Be this as it may, so far as the mere palate is concerned; but in the
-chemistry of all my advocacy of cheese and its cookery I have full
-confidence. Rendered digestible by simple and suitable cookery, and
-added with a little potash salt to farinaceous food of all kinds, it
-affords exactly what is required to supply a theoretically complete and
-a most economical dietary, without the aid of any other kind of animal
-food. The potash salts may be advantageously supplied by a liberal
-second course of fruit or salad.
-
-One more of my heretical applications of grated cheese must be
-specified. It is that of sprinkling it freely over ordinary stewed
-tripe, which thus becomes _extraordinary_ stewed tripe. Or a solution
-of cheese may be mixed with liquor of the stew. It may not be generally
-known that stewed tripe is the most easily digestible of all solid
-animal food. This was shown by the experiments of Dr. Beaumont on his
-patient, Alexis St. Martin, who was so obliging (from a scientific
-point of view) as to discharge a gun in such a manner that it shot away
-the front of his own stomach and left there, after the healing of the
-wound, a valved window through which, with the aid of a simple optical
-contrivance, the work of digestion could be watched. Dr. Beaumont found
-that while beef and mutton required three hours for digestion, tripe
-was digested in one hour.[14]
-
-I add by way of postscript a recipe for a dish lately invented by my
-wife. It is vegetable marrow _au gratin_, prepared by simply boiling
-the vegetable as usual, slicing it, placing the slices in a dish,
-covering them with grated cheese, and then browning slightly in an oven
-or before the fire, as in preparing the well-known ‘cauliflower _au
-gratin_.’ I have modified this (with improvement, I believe) by mashing
-the boiled marrow and stirring the grated cheese into the midst of it
-whilst as hot as possible; or, better still, by adding a little of the
-solution of cheese above described to the purée of mashed marrow and
-stirring it well in while hot. To please the ladies, and make it look
-pretty on the table, a little more grated cheese may be sprinkled on
-the top of this and browned in the oven or with a salamander. People
-with weak digestive powers should set aside the pretty.
-
-Turnips may be similarly treated as ‘mashed turnips _au gratin_.’
-I recommend this especially to my vegetarian friends, who have no
-objection to cheese, but do not properly appreciate it.
-
-Taking as I do great interest in their efforts, regarding them as
-pioneers of a great and certainly approaching reform, I have frequently
-dined at their restaurants (always do so when within reach, as I am
-only a flesh-eater for convenience’ sake), and by the experience thus
-afforded of their cookery, am convinced that they are losing many
-converts by the lack of cheese in many of their most important dishes.
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[11] I am greatly disgusted with the cookery-books, especially the
-pretentious volume of Francatelli’s, on being unable to find any recipe
-for this delicious Italian dish, and a similar absence of a dozen or
-two of equally common and excellent preparations familiar to all who
-have dined at the Lepre (Rome), or other good Italian restaurants.
-
-[12] Forty or fifty years ago these cheese _fondus_ were one of the
-usual courses at many-course banquets, but now they are rarely found in
-the _menu_ of such dinners. There is good reason for this. They are far
-too nutritious to be eaten with a dozen other things. Their proper use
-is to substitute the joint in an ordinary respectable meal of meat and
-pudding.
-
-[13] Before the Adulteration Act was passed, mustard flour was usually
-mixed with well-dried wheaten flour, whereby the redundant oil was
-absorbed, and the mixture was a dry powder. Now it is different, being
-pure powdered mustard seed, and usually rather damp. It not only lies
-closer, but is much stronger. Therefore, in following any recipe of old
-cookery-books, only about half the stated quantity should be used.
-
-[14] The reader who desires further information on this and kindred
-subjects will find it clearly and soundly treated (without any of the
-noxious pedantry that too commonly prevails in such treatises) in Dr.
-Andrew Combe’s _Physiology of Digestion_, which, although written
-by a dying man nearly half a century ago, still remains, like his
-_Principles of Physiology_, the best popular work on the subject.
-Subsequent editions have been edited and brought up to date by his
-nephew, Sir James Coxe.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X.
-
-FAT—MILK.
-
-
-WE all know that there is a considerable difference between raw fat
-and cooked fat; but what is the _rationale_ of this difference? Is it
-anything beyond the obvious fusion or semi-fusion of the solid?
-
-These are very natural and simple questions, but in no work on
-chemistry or technology can I find any answer to them, or even any
-attempt at an answer. I will therefore do the best I can towards
-solving the problem in my own way.
-
-All the cookable and eatable fats fall into the class of ‘fixed oils,’
-so named by chemists to distinguish them from the ‘volatile oils,’
-otherwise described as ‘essential oils.’ The distinction between these
-two classes is simple enough. The volatile oils (mostly of vegetable
-origin) may be distilled or simply evaporated away like water or
-alcohol, and leave no residue. The fixed oils similarly treated are
-dissociated more or less completely. This has been already explained in
-Chapter VII.
-
-Otherwise expressed, the boiling point of the volatile oils is
-below their dissociation point. The fixed oils are those which are
-dissociated at a temperature below their boiling point.
-
-My object in thus expressing this difference will be understood upon
-a little reflection. The volatile oils, when heated, being distilled
-without change are uncookable; while the fixed oils if similarly
-heated suffer various degrees of change as their temperature is raised,
-and may be completely decomposed by steady application of heat in a
-closed vessel without the aid of any other chemical agent than the heat
-itself. This ‘destructive distillation’ converts them into solid carbon
-and hydro-carbon gases, somewhat similar to those we obtain by the
-destructive distillation of coal.
-
-If we watch the changes occurring as the heat advances to this complete
-dissociation point we may observe a minor or partial dissociation
-proceeding gradually onward, resembling that which I have already
-described as occurring when sugar is similarly treated (Chapter VII.
-page 87).
-
-But in ordinary cooking we do not go so far as to carbonise the fat
-itself, though we do brown or partially carbonise the membrane which
-envelopes the fat. What then is the nature of this minor dissociation,
-if such occurs?
-
-Before giving my answer to this question I must explain the chemical
-constitution of fat. It is a compound of a very weak base with very
-weak acids. The basic substance is glycerine, the acids (not sour at
-all, but so named because they combine with bases as the actually sour
-acids do) are stearic acid, palmitic acid, oleic acid, &c., and bear
-the general name of ‘fatty acids.’ They are solid or liquid, according
-to temperature. When solid they are pearly crystalline substances, when
-fused they are oily liquids.
-
-To simplify, I will take one of these as a type, and that the one which
-is the chief constituent of animal fats, viz. stearic acid. I have a
-lump of it before me. Newly broken through, it might at a distance
-be mistaken for a piece of Carrara marble. It is granular, like the
-marble, but not so hard, and, when rubbed with the hand, differs from
-the marble in betraying its origin by a small degree of unctuousness,
-but it can scarcely be described as greasy.
-
-I find by experiment that this may be mixed with glycerine without
-combination taking place, that when heated with glycerine just to its
-fusing point, and the two are agitated together, the combination is by
-no means complete. Instead of obtaining a soft, smooth fat, I obtain
-a granular fat small stearic crystals with glycerine amongst them. It
-is a _mixture_ of stearic acid and glycerine, not a chemical compound;
-it is stearic acid and glycerine, but not a stearate of glycerine or
-glycerine stearate.
-
-A similar separation is what I suppose to occur in the cooking of
-animal fat. I find that mutton-fat, beef-fat, or other fat when raw
-is perfectly smooth, as tested by rubbing a small quantity, free from
-membrane, between the finger and thumb, or by the still more delicate
-test of rubbing it between the tip of the tongue and the palate.
-But dripping, whether of beef, or mutton, or poultry, is granular,
-as anybody who has ever eaten bread and dripping knows well enough,
-and the manufacturers of ‘butterine,’ or ‘bosch,’ know too well,
-the destruction or prevention of this granulation being one of the
-difficulties of their art.
-
-My theory of the cookery of fat is simply that heat, when continued
-long enough, or raised sufficiently high, effects an incipient
-dissociation of the fatty acids from the glycerine, and thus assists
-the digestive organs by presenting the base and the acids in a
-condition better fitted (or advanced by one stage) for the new
-combinations demanded by assimilation. Some physiologists have lately
-asserted that the fat of our food is not assimilated at all—not laid
-down again as fat, but is used directly as fuel for the maintenance of
-animal heat.
-
-If this is correct, the advantage of the preliminary dissociation is
-more decided, for the combustible portion of the fat is its fatty
-acids; the glycerine is an impediment to combustion, so much so that
-the modern candle-maker removes it, and thereby greatly improves the
-combustibility of his candles.
-
-It may be that the glycerine of the fat we eat is assimilated like
-sugar, while the fatty acids act directly as fuel. This view may
-reconcile some of the conflicting facts (such as the existence of fat
-in the carnivora) that stand in the way of the theory of the uses of
-fat food above referred to, according to which fat is not fattening,
-and those who would ‘Bant’ should eat fat freely to maintain animal
-heat, while very abstemious in the consumption of sugar and farinaceous
-food.
-
-The difference between tallow and dripping is instructive. Their
-origin is the same; both are melted fats—beef or mutton fats—and both
-contain the same fatty acids and glycerine, but there is a visible and
-tangible difference in their molecular condition. Tallow is smooth and
-homogeneous, dripping decidedly granular.
-
-I attribute this difference to the fact that in rendering tallow, the
-heat is maintained no longer than is necessary to effect the fusion;
-while, in the ordinary production of dripping, the fat is exposed in
-the dripping-pan to a long continuance of heat, besides being highly
-heated when used in basting. Therefore the dissociation is carried
-farther in the case of the dripping, and the result becomes sensible.
-
-I have observed that home-rendered lard, that obtained in English
-farmhouses, where the ‘scratchings’ (_i.e._ the membranous parts)
-are frizzled, is more granular than the lard we now obtain in such
-abundance from Chicago and other wholesale hog regions. I have not
-witnessed the lard rendering at Chicago, but have little doubt that
-economy of fuel is practised in conducting it, and therefore less
-dissociation would be effected than in the domestic retail process.
-
-Some of the early manufacturers of ‘bosch’ purified their fat by
-the process recommended and practised by the French Academicians
-MM. Dubrunfaut and Fua (see page 102). I wrote about it in 1871,
-and consequently received some samples of artificial butter thus
-made in the Midlands. It was pure fat, perfectly wholesome, but,
-although coloured to imitate butter, had the granular character
-of dripping. Since that time great progress has been made in this
-branch of industry. I have lately tasted samples of pure ‘bosch’ or
-‘oleomargarine’ undistinguishable from churned cream or good butter,
-though offered for sale at 8½_d._ per lb. in wholesale packages. In
-the preparation of this the high temperatures of the process of the
-Academicians are carefully avoided, and the smoothness of pure butter
-is obtained. I mention this now merely in confirmation of my theory of
-the _rationale_ of fat cookery, but shall return to this subject of
-‘bosch’ or butterine again, as it has considerable intrinsic interest
-in reference to our food supplies, and should be better understood than
-it is.
-
-If this theory of fat cookery and the preceding theoretical
-explanations of the cookery of gelatin and fibrin are correct, a
-broad practical deduction follows, viz. that in the cookery of fat
-the full temperature of 212° or even a much higher temperature does
-no mischief, or may be desirable, while all the other constituents of
-meat are better cooked at a temperature not exceeding 212°; the albumen
-especially at a considerably lower temperature.
-
-There is neither coagulation nor dehydration to be feared as regards
-the fat, unless the heat is raised to that of the dissociation of the
-fixed oils, which, as already explained, is much above 212°; the change
-which then takes place in the fat (analogous to that caramelising
-sugar) is not dehydration properly so called, although the _elements_
-of water or hydrogen may be driven off.
-
-Hydration is a combining of water _as water_, not with the elements of
-water as elements, and the water of most hydrates becomes dissociated
-at a temperature a little above the boiling point of water.
-
-My own experiments on gelatin show that hydration occurs when crude
-gelatin is exposed to the action of water at or below the boiling
-point, and that dehydration takes place at and above the boiling point,
-or otherwise stated, the boiling point is the critical temperature
-where either hydration or dehydration may occur according to the
-circumstances.
-
-The original membrane _immersed in water_ at 212° becomes hydrated,
-while hydrated gelatin heated to 212° and exposed to the air is
-dehydrated. Fat is only dissociated as regards its glycerine, and is
-cooked thereby.
-
-The dietetic value of milk is obvious enough from the fact that the
-young of the human species and all the mammalia, whether carnivorous,
-graminivorous, or herbivorous, are entirely fed upon it during the
-period of their most rapid growth. This, however, does not justify
-the practice of describing milk as a model diet and tabulating its
-composition as that which should represent the composition of food
-for adults. The fallacy of this is evident from the fact that grass
-is the model food of the cow, and milk that of the calf. Although the
-grass contains all the constituents of the milk, their proportions are
-widely different; besides this the grass contains a very great deal of
-material that does not exist in milk—silica for example.
-
-The constituents of milk are first water, constituting from 65 to
-90 per cent. Nitrogenous matter, consisting of the casein above
-described and a little albumen. Fat, sugar, and saline substances. The
-proportions of these vary so greatly in the milk from different animals
-of the same species, and in that from the same animal at different
-times that tabular statements of the percentage composition of the milk
-of different animals are very variable. I have five such tables before
-me, assembled for the purpose of supplying material for my readers, but
-they are so contradictory, though all by good chemists, that I am at a
-loss in making a choice. The following is Dr. Miller’s statement of the
-mean result of several analyses:
-
- +------------------------+-------+------+------+------+-------+-------+
- | | Woman | Cow | Goat | Ass | Sheep | Bitch |
- +------------------------+-------+------+------+------+-------+-------+
- | Water | 88·6 | 87·4 | 82·0 | 90·5 | 85·6 | 66·3 |
- | Fat | 2·6 | 4·0 | 4·5 | 1·4 | 4·5 | 14·8 |
- | Sugar and soluble salts| 4·9 | 5·0 | 4·5 | 6·4 | 4·2 | 2·9 |
- | Nitrogenous compounds }| | | | | | |
- | and insoluble salts }| 3·9 | 3·6 | 9·0 | 1·7 | 5·7 | 16·0 |
- +------------------------+-------+------+------+------+-------+-------+
-
-The fat exists in the form of minute globules of oil suspended in the
-water. The rising of these to the surface forms the cream. When the
-milk is new it is slightly alkaline, and this assists in the admixture
-of the oil with the water, forming an emulsion which may be imitated by
-whipping olive or other similar oil in water. If the water is slightly
-alkaline the milky-looking emulsion is more easily obtained than in
-neutral water, still more so than when there is acid in the water.
-
-As milk becomes older lactic acid is formed; at first alkalinity is
-exchanged for neutrality, and afterwards the milk becomes acid. This
-assists in the separation of the cream.
-
-Butter is merely the oil globules aggregated by agitation or churning.
-The condition of the casein has been already described. The sugar of
-milk or ‘lactine’ is much less sweet than cane sugar.
-
-The cookery of milk is very simple, but by no means unimportant. That
-there is an appreciable difference between raw and boiled milk may be
-proved by taking equal quantities of each (the boiled sample having
-been allowed to cool down), adding them to equal quantities of the
-same infusion of coffee, then critically tasting the mixtures. The
-difference is sufficient to have long since established the practice
-among all skilful cooks of scrupulously using boiled milk for making
-_café au lait_. I have tried a similar experiment on tea, and find that
-in this case the cold milk is preferable. Why this should be—why boiled
-milk should be better for coffee and raw milk for tea—I cannot tell.
-If any of my readers have not done so already, let them try similar
-experiments with condensed milk, and I have no doubt that the verdict
-of the majority will be that it is passable with coffee, but very
-objectionable in tea. This is milk that has been very much cooked.
-
-The chief definable alteration effected by the boiling of milk is
-the coagulation of the small quantity of albumen which it contains.
-This rises as it becomes solidified, carrying with it some of the
-fat globules of the milk, and a little of its sugar and saline
-constituents, thus forming a skin-like scum on the surface, which may
-be lifted with a spoon and eaten, as it is perfectly wholesome, and
-very nutritious.
-
-If all the milk that is poured into London every morning were to flow
-down a single channel, it would form a respectable little rivulet.
-An interesting example of the self-adjusting operation of demand and
-supply is presented by the fact that, without any special legislation
-or any dictating official, the quantity required should thus flow with
-so little excess that, in spite of its perishable qualities, little or
-none is spoiled by souring; and yet at any moment anybody may buy a
-pennyworth within two or three hundred yards of any part of the great
-metropolis. There is no record of any single day on which the supply
-has failed, or even been sensibly deficient.
-
-This is effected by drawing the supplies from a great number of
-independent sources, which are not likely to be simultaneously
-disturbed in the same direction. Coupled with this advantage is a
-serious danger. It has been demonstrated that certain microbia (minute
-living abominations), which are said to disseminate malignant diseases,
-may live in milk, feed upon it, increase and multiply therein, and by
-it be transmitted to human beings with possibly serious and even fatal
-results.
-
-This general germ theory of disease has been recently questioned by
-some men whose conclusions demand respect. Dr. B. W. Richardson stoutly
-opposes it, and in the particular instance of the ‘comma-shaped’
-bacillus, so firmly described as the origin of cholera, the refutation
-is apparently complete.
-
-The alternative hypothesis is that the class of diseases in question
-are caused by a _chemical_ poison, not necessarily organised as a plant
-or animal, and therefore not to be found by the microscope.
-
-I speak the more feelingly on this subject, having very recently had
-painful experience of it. One of my sons went for a holiday to a
-farm-house in Shropshire, where many happy and health-giving holidays
-have been spent by all the members of my family. At the end of two or
-three weeks he was attacked by scarlet fever, and suffered severely. He
-afterwards learned that the cowboy had been ill, and further inquiry
-proved that his illness was scarlet fever, though not acknowledged to
-be such; that he had milked before the scaling of the skin that follows
-the eruption could have been completed, and it was therefore most
-probable that some of the scales from his hands fell into the milk.
-My son drank freely of uncooked milk, the other inmates of the farm
-drinking home-brewed beer, and only taking milk in tea or coffee hot
-enough to destroy the vitality of fever germs. He alone suffered. This
-infection was the more remarkable, inasmuch as a few months previously
-he had been assisting a medical man in a crowded part of London where
-scarlet fever was prevalent, and had come into frequent contact with
-patients in different stages of the disease without suffering infection.
-
-Had the milk from this farm been sent to London in the usual manner
-in cans, and the contents of these particular cans mixed with those
-of the rest received by the vendor, the whole of his stock might have
-been infected. As some thousands of farms contribute to the supplying
-of London with milk, the risk of such contact with infected hands
-occurring occasionally in one or another of them is very great, and
-fully justifies me in urgently recommending the manager of every
-household to strictly enforce the boiling of every drop of milk that
-enters the house. At the temperature of 212° the vitality of all
-_dangerous_ germs is destroyed, and the boiling point of milk is a
-little above 212°. The temperature of tea or coffee, as ordinarily
-used, may do it, but is not to be relied upon. I need only refer
-generally to the cases of wholesale infection that have recently been
-traced to the milk of particular dairies, as the particulars are
-familiar to all who read the newspapers.
-
-The necessity for boiling remains the same, whether we accept the
-germ theory or that of chemical poison, as such poison must be of
-organic origin, and, like other similar organic compounds, subject to
-dissociation or other alteration when heated to the boiling point of
-water.
-
-It is an open question whether butter may or may not act as a
-dangerous carrier of such germs; whether they rise with the cream,
-survive the churning, and flourish among the fat. The subject is of
-vital importance, and yet, in spite of the research fund of the Royal
-Society, the British Association, &c., we have no data upon which to
-base even an approximately sound conclusion.
-
-We may theorise, of course; we may suppose that the bacteria, bacilli,
-&c., which we see under the microscope to be continually wriggling
-about or driving along are doing so in order to obtain fresh food from
-the surrounding liquid, and therefore that if imprisoned in butter
-they would languish and die. We may point to the analogies of ferment
-germs which demand nitrogenous matter, and therefore suppose that the
-pestiferous wanderers cannot live upon a mere hydro-carbon like butter.
-On the other hand, we know that the germs of such things can remain
-dormant under conditions that are fatal to their parents, and develop
-forthwith when released and brought into new surroundings. These
-speculations are interesting enough, but in such a matter of life and
-death to ourselves and our children we require positive facts—direct
-microscopic or chemical evidence.
-
-In the meantime the doubt is highly favourable to ‘bosch.’ To
-illustrate this, let us suppose the case of a cow grazing on a
-sewage-farm, manured from a district on which enteric fever has
-existed. The cow lies down, and its teats are soiled with liquid
-containing the chemical poison or the germs which are so fearfully
-malignant when taken internally. In the course of milking a thousandth
-part of a grain of the infected matter containing a few hundred germs
-enters the milk, and these germs increase and multiply. The cream that
-rises carries some of them with it, and they are thus in the butter,
-either dead or alive—we know not which, but have to accept the risk.
-
-Now, take the case of ‘bosch.’ The cow is slaughtered. The waste
-fat—that before the days of palm oil and vaseline was sold for
-lubricating machinery—is skilfully prepared, made up into 2 lb. rolls,
-delicately wrapped in special muslin, or prettily moulded and fitted
-into ‘Normandy’ baskets. What is the risk in eating this?
-
-None at all provided always the ‘bosch’ is not adulterated with
-cream-butter. The special disease germs do not survive the chemistry of
-digestion, do not pass through the glandular tissues of the follicles
-that secrete the living fat, and therefore, even though the cow should
-have fed on sewage grass, moistened with infected sewage water, its fat
-would not be poisoned.
-
-What we require in connection with this is commercial honesty: that
-the thousands of tons of ‘bosch’ now annually made shall be sold as
-‘bosch,’ or, if preferred, as ‘oleomargarine,’ or ‘butterine,’ or
-any other name that shall tell the truth. In order to render such
-commercial honesty possible to shopkeepers, more intelligence is
-demanded among their customers. A dealer, on whom I can rely, told
-me lately that if he offered the ‘bosch’ or ‘butterine’ to his other
-customers as he was then offering it to me, at 8½_d._ per lb. in
-24-lb. box, or 9_d._ retail, he could not possibly sell it, and his
-reputation would be injured by admitting that he kept it; but that the
-same people who would be disgusted with it at 9_d._ will buy it freely
-at double the price as prime Devonshire fresh butter; and, he added,
-significantly, ‘I cannot afford to lose my business and be ruined
-because my customers are fools.’ To pastrycooks and others in business
-it is sold honestly enough for what it is, and used instead of butter.
-
-In the ‘Journal of the Chemical Society’ for January 1844, page 92, is
-an account of experiments made by A. Mayer in order to determine the
-comparative nutritive value of ‘bosch’ and cream-butter. They were made
-on a man and a boy. The result was that on an average a little above 1½
-per cent. less of the ‘bosch’ was absorbed into the system than of the
-cream-butter. This is a very trifling difference.
-
-Before leaving the subject of animal food I may say a few words on
-the latest, and perhaps the greatest, triumph of science in reference
-to food supply—_i.e._ the successful solution of the great problem of
-preserving fresh meat for an almost indefinite length of time. It has
-long been known that meat which is frozen remains fresh. The Aberdeen
-whalers were in the habit of feasting their friends on returning home
-on joints that were taken out fresh from Aberdeen, and kept frozen
-during a long Arctic voyage. In Norway game is shot at the end of
-autumn, and kept in a frozen state for consumption during the whole
-winter and far into the spring.
-
-The early attempts to apply the freezing process for the carriage of
-fresh meat from South America and Australia by using ice, or freezing
-mixtures of ice and salt, failed, but now all the difficulties are
-overcome by a simple application of the great principle of the
-conservation of energy, whereby the burning of coal may be made to
-produce a degree of cold proportionate to the amount of heat it gives
-out in burning.
-
-Carcasses of sheep are thereby frozen to stony hardness immediately
-they are slaughtered in New Zealand and Australia, then packed in close
-refrigerated cars, carried to the ship, and there stowed in chambers
-refrigerated by the same means, and thus brought to England in the same
-state of stony hardness as that originally produced. I dined to-day
-on one of the legs of a sheep that I bought a week ago, and which
-was grazing at the Antipodes three months before. I prefer it to any
-English mutton ordinarily obtainable.
-
-The grounds of this preference will be understood when I explain that
-English farmers, who manufacture mutton as a primary product, kill
-their sheep as soon as they are full grown, when a year old or less.
-They cannot afford to feed a sheep for two years longer merely to
-improve its flavour without adding to its weight. Country gentlemen,
-who do not care for expense, occasionally regale their friends on a
-haunch or saddle of three-year-old mutton, as a rare and costly luxury.
-
-The Antipodean graziers are wool growers. Until lately mutton was
-merely used as manure, and even now it is but a secondary product. The
-wool crop improves year by year until the sheep is three or four years
-old; therefore it is not slaughtered until this age is attained; and
-thus the sheep sent to England are similar to those of the country
-squire, and such as the English farmer could not send to market under
-eighteenpence per pound.
-
-There is, however, one drawback; but I have tested it thoroughly
-(having supplied my own table during the last six months with no other
-mutton than that from New Zealand), and find it so trifling as to
-be imperceptible unless critically looked for. It is simply that, in
-thawing, a small quantity of the juice of the meat oozes out. This is
-more than compensated by the superior richness and fulness of flavour
-of the meat itself, which is much darker in colour than young mutton.
-Legs of frozen mutton should be hung with the thick cut part upwards.
-With this precaution the loss of juice is but nominal. If the frozen
-sheep is not cut up until completely thawed and required for cooking
-there is no loss.
-
-Another successful method of meat-preserving has been more lately
-introduced. It is based upon the remarkable antiseptic properties of
-boric acid (or boracic acid as it is sometimes named); this is the
-characteristic constituent of borax, and, like the fatty acids above
-described, has no sour flavour.
-
-The speciality of this process, invented by Mr. Jones, a
-Gloucestershire surgeon, is the method by which a small quantity of the
-antiseptic is made to permeate the whole of the carcass.
-
-The animal is rendered insensible, either by a stunning blow or by an
-anæsthetic, with the heart still beating. A vein—usually the jugular—is
-opened, and a small quantity of blood let out. Then a corresponding
-quantity of a solution of boric acid, raised to blood heat, is made
-to flow into the vein from a vessel raised to a suitable height above
-it. The action of the heart carries this through all the capillary
-vessels into every part of the body of the animal. The completeness
-of this diffusion may be understood by reflecting on the fact that we
-cannot puncture any part of the body with the point of a needle without
-drawing blood from some of these vessels.
-
-After the completion of this circulation the animal is bled to death in
-the usual manner. From three to four ounces of boric acid is sufficient
-for a sheep of average weight, and much of this comes away with the
-final bleeding. On April 2, 1884, I made a hearty meal on the roasted,
-boiled, and stewed flesh of a sheep that was killed on February 8,
-the carcass hanging in the meantime in the basement of the Society of
-Arts. It was perfectly fresh, and without any perceptible flavour of
-the boric acid: very tender, and full-flavoured as fresh meat. On July
-19, 1884, I purchased a haunch of the prepared mutton, and hung it
-in an ill-constructed larder during the excessively hot weather that
-followed. On August 10, after twenty-two days of this severe ordeal,
-it was still in good condition. The 11th and 12th were two of the
-hottest days of the present century in England. On the 13th I examined
-the haunch very carefully, and detected symptoms of giving way. It had
-become softer, and was pervaded throughout with a slight malodour. On
-the 14th it became worse, and then I had it roasted. It was decidedly
-gamey; the fat, or rather the membranous junction between fat and
-lean, and the membranous sheaths of the muscles had succumbed, but the
-substance of the muscles, the firm lean parts of the meat, were quite
-eatable, and eaten by myself and other members of my family. There was
-no taste of boric acid, and the meat was unusually tender.
-
-The curious element of this process is the very small quantity of the
-boric acid which does the work so effectually.
-
-For some time past most of the milk that is supplied to London has been
-similarly treated by adding borax or a preparation chiefly composed of
-borax, and named ‘glacialine.’ This suppresses the incipient lactic
-fermentation, which, in the course of a few hours, otherwise produces
-the souring of milk, and thus prepared the milk remains for a long time
-unaltered.
-
-The small quantity of borax that we thus imbibe with our tea, coffee,
-&c., is quite harmless. M. de Cyon, who has studied this subject
-experimentally, affirms that it is very beneficial.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI.
-
-THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES.
-
-
-MY readers will remember that I referred to Haller’s statement,
-‘Dimidium corporis humani gluten est,’ which applies to animals
-generally, viz. that half of their substance is gelatin, or that which
-by cookery becomes gelatin. This abundance depends upon the fact that
-the walls of the cells and the frame-work of the tissues are composed
-of this material.
-
-In the vegetable structure we encounter a close analogy to this.
-Cellular structure is still more clearly defined than in the animal, as
-may be easily seen with the help of a very moderate microscopic power.
-Pluck one of the fibrils that you see shooting down into the water
-of hyacinth glasses, or, failing one of these, any other succulent
-rootlet. Crush it between two pieces of glass and examine. At the end
-there is a loose spongy mass of rounded cells; these merge into oblong
-rectangular cells surrounding a central axis of spiral tube or tubes
-or greatly elongated cell structure. Take a thin slice of stem, or
-leaf, or flower, or bark, or pith, examine in like manner, and cellular
-structure of some kind will display itself, clearly demonstrating
-that whatever may be the contents of these round, oval, hexagonal,
-oblong, or otherwise regular or irregular cells, we cannot cook and
-eat any whole vegetable, or slice of vegetable, without encountering
-a large quantity of cell wall. It constitutes far more than half of
-the substance of most vegetables, and therefore demands prominent
-consideration.
-
-It exists in many forms with widely differing physical properties, but
-with very little variation in chemical composition, so little that
-in many chemical treatises cellular tissue, cellulose, lignin, and
-woody fibre are treated as chemically synonymous. Thus, Miller says:
-‘Cellular tissue forms the groundwork of every plant, and when obtained
-in a pure state, its composition is the same, whatever may have been
-the nature of the plants which furnished it, though it may vary greatly
-in appearance and physical characters; thus, it is loose and spongy in
-the succulent shoots of germinating seeds, and in the roots of plants,
-such as the turnip and the potato; it is porous and elastic in the pith
-of the rush and the elder; it is flexible and tenacious in the fibres
-of hemp and flax; it is compact in the branches and wood of growing
-trees; and becomes very hard and dense in the shells of the filbert,
-the peach, the cocoanut, and the _Phytelephas_ or vegetable ivory.’
-
-Its composition in all these cases is that of a _carbo-hydrate_, _i.e._
-carbon united with the elements of water, which, by the way, should
-not be confounded with a _hydro-carbon_, or compound of carbon with
-hydrogen simply, such as petroleum, fats, essential oils, and resins.
-
-There is, however, some little chemical difference between wooden
-tissue and the pure cellulose that we have in finely carded cotton, in
-linen, and pure paper pulp, such as is used in making the filtering
-paper for chemical laboratories, which burns without leaving a
-weighable quantity of ash. The woody forms of cellular tissue owe
-their characteristic properties to an incrustration of _lignin_, which
-is often described as synonymous with cellulose, but is not so. It
-is composed of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen, like cellulose, but the
-hydrogen is in excess of the proportion required to form water by
-combination with the oxygen.
-
-My own view of the composition of this incrustation (lignin properly
-is called) is that it consists of a carbo-hydrate united with a
-hydro-carbon, the latter having a resinous character; but whether the
-hydro-carbon is chemically combined with the carbo-hydrate (the resin
-with the cellulose), or whether the resin only mechanically envelopes
-and indurates the cellulose I will not venture to decide, though I
-incline to the latter theory.
-
-As we shall presently see, this view of the constitution of the
-indurated forms of cellular tissue has an important practical bearing
-upon my present subject. To indicate this in advance, I will put it
-grossly as opening the question of whether a very great refinement of
-scientific cookery may or may not enable us to convert nutshells, wood
-shavings, and sawdust into wholesome and digestible food. I have no
-doubt whatever that it may.
-
-It could be done at once if the incrusting resinous matter were
-removed; for pure cellulose in the form of cotton and linen rags
-has been converted into sugar artificially in the laboratory of the
-chemist; and in the ripening of fruits such conversion is effected on
-a large scale in the laboratory of nature. A Jersey pear, for example,
-when full grown in autumn is little better than a lump of acidulated
-wood. Left hanging on the leafless tree, or gathered and carefully
-stored for two or three months, it becomes by nature’s own unaided
-cookery the most delicious and delicate pulp that can be tasted or
-imagined.
-
-Certain animals have a remarkable power of digesting ligneous tissue.
-The beaver is an example of this. The whole of its stomach, and more
-especially that secondary stomach the _cæcum_, is often found crammed
-or plugged with fragments of wood and bark. I have opened the crops of
-several Norwegian ptarmigans, and found them filled with no other food
-than the needles of pines, upon which they evidently feed during the
-winter. The birds, when cooked, were scarcely eatable on account of the
-strong resinous flavour of their flesh.
-
-If my theory of the constitution of such woody tissues is correct,
-these animals only require the power of secreting some solvent for
-the resin, on the removal of which their food would consist of the
-same material as the tissue of the succulent stems and leaves eaten by
-ordinary herbivorous animals. The resinous flavour of the flesh of the
-ptarmigan indicates such solution of resin.
-
-I may here, by the way, correct the commonly accepted version of a
-popular story. We are told that when Marie Antoinette was informed of a
-famine in the neighbourhood of the Tyrol, and of the starving of some
-of the peasants there, she replied, ‘I would rather eat pie-crust’
-(some of the story-tellers say ‘pastry’) ‘than starve.’ Thereupon the
-courtiers giggled at the ignorance of the pampered princess, who could
-suppose that starving peasants had such an alternative food as pastry.
-The ignorance, however, was all on the side of the courtiers and those
-who repeat the story in its ordinary form. The princess was the only
-person in the Court who really understood the habits of the peasants
-of the particular district in question. They cook their meat, chiefly
-young veal, by rolling it in a kind of dough made of sawdust mixed
-with as little coarse flour as will hold it together; then place this
-in an oven or in wood embers until the dough is hardened to a tough
-crust, and the meat is raised throughout to the cooking point. Marie
-Antoinette said that she would rather eat _croûtons_ than starve,
-knowing that these _croûtons_, or meat pie-crusts, are given to the
-pigs; that the pigs digest them, and are nourished by them in spite of
-the wood sawdust.
-
-When on the subject of cooking animal food, I had to define the cooking
-temperature as determined by that at which albumen coagulates, and to
-point out the mischief arising from exceeding that temperature and thus
-rendering the albumen horny and indigestible.
-
-No such precautions are demanded in the boiling of vegetables. The
-work to be done in cooking a cabbage or a turnip, for example, is to
-soften the cellular tissue by the action of hot water; there is nothing
-to avoid in the direction of over-heating. Even if the water could be
-raised above 212°, the vegetable would be rather improved than injured
-thereby.
-
-The question that now naturally arises is whether modern science can
-show us that anything more can be done in the preparation of vegetable
-tissue than the mere softening in boiling water. I have already said
-that the practice of using the digestive apparatus of sheep, oxen, &c.,
-for the preparation of our food is merely a transitory barbarism, to be
-ultimately superseded by scientific cookery, by preparing vegetables
-in such a manner that they shall be as easily digested as the prepared
-grass we call beef and mutton. I do not mean by this that the vegetable
-we should use shall be grass itself, or that grass should be one of
-the vegetables. We must, for our requirement, select vegetables that
-contain as much nutriment in a given bulk as our present mixed diet,
-but in doing so we encounter the serious difficulty of finding that the
-readily soluble cell wall or main bulk of animal food—the gelatin—is
-replaced in the vegetable by the cellulose, or woody fibre, which is
-not only more difficult of solution, but is not nitrogenous, is only a
-compound of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen.
-
-Next to the enveloping tissue, the most abundant constituent of the
-vegetables we use as food is starch. Laundry associations may render
-the Latin name ‘_fecula_’, or ‘_farina_’, more agreeable when applied
-to food. We feed very largely on starch, and take it in a multitude
-of forms. Excluding water, it constitutes above three-fourths of our
-‘staff of life,’ a still larger proportion of rice, which is the
-staff of Oriental life, and nearly the whole of arrowroot, sago, and
-tapioca, which may be described as composed of starch and water. Peas,
-beans, and every kind of seed and grain contain it in preponderating
-proportions; potatoes the same, and even those vegetables which we eat
-raw, all contain within their cells considerable quantities of starch.
-
-Take a small piece of dough, made in the usual manner by moistening
-wheat flour, put it in a piece of muslin and work it with the fingers
-under water. The water becomes milky, and the milkiness is seen to be
-produced by minute granules that sink to the bottom when the agitation
-of the water ceases. These are starch granules. They may be obtained by
-similar treatment of other kinds of flour. Viewed under a microscope
-they are seen to be ovoid particles with peculiar concentric markings
-that I must not tarry to describe. The form and size of these granules
-vary according to the plant from which they are derived, but the
-chemical composition is in all cases the same, excepting, perhaps, that
-the amount of water associated with the actual starch varies, producing
-some small differences of density or other physical variations.
-
-Arrowroot may be taken as an example. To the chemist arrowroot is
-starch in as pure a form as can be found in nature, and he applies
-this description to all kinds of arrowroot; but, looking at the ‘price
-current’ in the ‘Grocer’ of the current week, November 22, 1884,
-I find under the first item, which is ‘Arrowroot,’ the following:
-‘Bermuda, per lb. 10_d._ to 1_s._ 5_d._;’ ‘St. Vincent and Natal,
-1¼_d._ to 7¼_d._;’ and this is a fair example of the usual differences
-of price of this commodity. Five farthings to 53 farthings is a wide
-range, and should express a wide difference of quality. I have on
-several occasions, at long intervals apart, obtained samples of the
-highest-priced Bermuda, and even ‘Missionary’ arrowroot, supposed to
-be perfect, brought home by immaculate missionaries themselves, and
-therefore worth 3_s._ 6_d._ per lb., and have compared this with the
-‘St. Vincent and Natal.’ I find that the only difference is that on
-boiling in a given quantity of water the Bermuda produces a somewhat
-stiffer jelly, the which additional tenacity is easily obtainable by
-using a little more of the 1½_d._ (or say 3_d._ to allow a profit on
-retailing) to the same quantity of water. Both are starch, and starch
-is neither more nor less than starch, unless it be that the best
-Bermuda, sold at 3_s._ per lb., is starch _plus_ humbug.[15]
-
-The ultimate chemical composition of starch is the same as that
-of cellulose—carbon and the elements of water, and in the same
-proportions; but the difference of chemical and physical properties
-indicates some difference in the arrangement of these elements. It
-would be quite out of place here to discuss the theories of molecular
-constitution which such differences have suggested, especially as they
-are all rather cloudy. The percentage is—carbon 44·4, oxygen 49·4,
-and hydrogen 6·2. The difference between starch and cellulose that
-most closely affects my present subject, that of digestibility, is
-considerable. The ordinary food-forms of starch, such as arrowroot,
-tapioca, rice, &c., are among the most easily digestible kinds of food,
-while cellulose is peculiarly difficult of digestion; in its crude and
-compact forms it is quite indigestible by human digestive apparatus.
-
-Neither of them are capable of sustaining life alone; they contain none
-of the nitrogenous material required for building up muscle, nerve, and
-other animal tissue. They may be converted into fat, and may supply
-fuel for maintaining animal heat, and may possibly supply some of the
-energies demanded for organic work.
-
-Serious consequences have resulted from ignorance of this. The popular
-notion that anything which thickens to a jelly when cooked must be
-proportionally nutritious is very fallacious, and many a victim has
-died of starvation by the reliance of nurses on this theory, and
-consequently feeding an emaciated invalid on mere starch in the form of
-arrowroot, &c. The selling of a fancy variety at ten times its proper
-value has greatly aided this delusion, so many believing that whatever
-is dear must be good. I remember when oysters were retailed in London
-at fourpence per dozen. They were not then supposed to be exceptionally
-nutritious, were not prescribed by fashionable physicians to invalids,
-as they have been lately, since their price has risen to threepence
-each.
-
-More than half a century has elapsed since Dr. Beaumont published the
-results of his experiments on Alexis St. Martin. These showed that
-fresh raw oysters required 2 hours 55 minutes, and stewed fresh oysters
-3½ hours for digestion, against 1 hour for boiled tripe and 3 hours for
-roast or boiled beef or mutton. Oysters contain more than 80 per cent.
-of water, and are, weight for weight, far less nutritious than beef or
-mutton; less than the easily digestible tripe. But tripe is cheap and
-vulgar, therefore kitchenmaids, footmen, and fashionable physicians
-despise it.
-
-The change which takes place in the cookery of starch may, I think, be
-described as simple hydration, or union with water; not that definite
-chemical combination which may be expressed in terms of chemical
-equivalents, but a sort of hydration of which we have so many other
-examples, where something unites with water in any quantity, the union
-being accompanied with an evolution of some amount of heat. Striking
-illustrations of this are presented on placing a piece of hydrated
-soda or potash in water, or mixing sulphuric acid, already combined
-chemically with an equivalent of water, with more water. Here we
-have aqueous adhesion and considerable evolution of heat, without
-the definitive quantitative chemical combination demanded by atomic
-theories.
-
-In the experiment above described for separating the starch from wheat
-flour, the starch thus liberated sinks to the bottom of the water and
-remains there undissolved. The same occurs if arrowroot be thrown into
-water. This insolubility is not entirely due to the intervention of the
-envelope of the granules, as may be shown by crushing the granules,
-_while dry_, and then dropping them into water. Such a mixture of
-starch and cold water remains unchanged for a long time—Miller says ‘an
-indefinite time.’
-
-When heated to a little above 140° Fahr., an absorption of water takes
-place through the enveloping membrane of the granules, they swell
-considerably, and the mixture becomes pasty or viscous. If this paste
-be largely diluted with water, the swollen granules still remain as
-separate bodies and slowly sink, though a considerable exosmosis of the
-true starch has occurred, as shown by the thickening of the water. I
-suppose that in their original state the enveloping membrane is much
-folded, and that these folds form the curious marking of concentric
-rings which constitutes the characteristic microscopic structure of
-starch granules, and that when cooked, at the temperature named, the
-very delicate membrane becomes fully distended by the increased bulk of
-the hydrated and diluted starch, and thus the rings disappear.
-
-A very little mechanical violence, mere stirring, now breaks up these
-distended granules, and we obtain the starch paste so well known to the
-laundress, and to all who have seen cooked arrowroot. If this paste be
-dried by evaporation it does not regain its former insolubility, but
-readily dissolves in hot or cold water. This is what I should describe
-as cooked starch.
-
-If the heat is now raised from 140° to the boiling point, and the
-boiling continued, the gelatinous mass becomes thicker and thicker;
-and if there are more than fifty parts of water to one of starch a
-separation takes place, the starch settling down with its fifty parts
-of water, the excess of water standing above it. Carefully dried starch
-may be heated to above 300° without becoming soluble, but at 400° a
-remarkable change commences. The same occurs to ordinary commercial
-starch at 320°, the difference evidently depending on the water
-retained by it. If the heat is continued a little beyond this it is
-converted into _dextrin_, otherwise named ‘British gum,’ ‘gommeline,’
-‘starch gum,’ and ‘Alsace gum,’ from its resemblance to gum-arabic,
-for which it is now very extensively substituted. Solutions of this in
-bottles are sold in the stationers’ shops under various names for desk
-uses.
-
-The remarkable feature of this conversion of starch into dextrin is,
-that it is accompanied by no change of chemical composition. Starch
-is composed of six equivalents of carbon, ten of hydrogen, and five
-of oxygen—C_{6}H_{10}O_{5}, _i.e._ six of carbon and five of water or
-its elements. Dextrin has exactly the same composition; so also has
-gum-arabic when purified. But their properties differ considerably.
-Starch, as everybody knows, when dried is white and opaque and
-pulverent; dextrin, similarly dried, is transparent and brittle;
-gum-arabic the same. If a piece of starch, or a solution of starch, is
-touched by a solution of iodine, it becomes blue almost to blackness,
-if the solution is strong; no such change occurs when the iodine
-solution is added to dextrin or gum. A solution of dextrin when mixed
-with potash changes to a rich blue colour when a little sulphate of
-copper is added; no such effect is produced by gum-arabic, and thus
-we have an easy test for distinguishing between true and fictitious
-gum-arabic.
-
-The technical name for describing this persistence of composition with
-changes of properties is _isomerism_, and bodies thus related are said
-to be _isomeric_ with each other. Another distinguishing characteristic
-of dextrin is that it produces a right-handed rotation on a ray of
-polarised light, hence its name, from _dexter_, the right.
-
-The conversion of starch into dextrin is a very important element of
-the subject of vegetable cooking, inasmuch as starch food cannot be
-assimilated until this conversion has taken place, either before or
-after we eat it. I will therefore describe other methods by which this
-change may be effected.
-
-If starch be boiled in a dilute solution of almost any acid, it is
-converted into dextrin. A solution containing less than one per cent.
-of sulphuric or nitric acid is sufficiently strong for this purpose.
-One method of commercial manufacture (Payen’s) is to moisten 10 parts
-of starch with 3 of water, containing 1/150th of its weight of nitric
-acid, spreading the paste upon shelves, allowing it to dry in the air,
-and then heating it for an hour-and-a-half at about 240° Fahr.
-
-But the most remarkable and interesting agent in effecting this
-conversion is _diastase_. It is one of those mysterious compounds which
-have received the general name of ‘ferments.’ They are disturbers of
-chemical peace, molecular agitators that initiate chemical revolutions,
-which may be beneficent or very mischievous. The morbific matter of
-contagious diseases, the venom of snake-bite, and a multitude of other
-poisons, are ferments. Yeast is a familiar example of a ferment, and
-one that is the best understood.
-
-I must not be tempted into a dissertation on this subject, but may
-merely remark that modern research indicates that many of these
-ferments are microscopic creatures, linking the vegetable with the
-animal world; they may be described as living things, seeing that they
-grow from germs and generate other germs that produce their like. Where
-this is proven, we can understand how a minute germ may, by falling
-upon suitable nourishment, increase and multiply, and thus effect upon
-large quantities of matter the chemical revolution above named.
-
-I have already described the action of rennet upon milk, and the very
-small quantity which produces coagulation. There appears to be no
-intercession of living microbia in this case, nor have any been yet
-demonstrated to constitute the ferment of diastase, though they may be
-suspected. Be this as it may, diastase is a most beneficent ferment. It
-communicates to the infant plant its first breath of active life, and
-operates in the very first stage of animal digestion.
-
-In a grain of wheat, for example, the embryo is surrounded with its
-first food. While the seed remains dry above ground there is no
-assimilation of the insoluble starch or gluten, no growth, nor other
-sign of life. But when the seed is moistened and warmed, the starch
-is changed to dextrin by the action of diastase, and the dextrin is
-further converted into sugar. The food of the germ thus gradually
-rendered soluble penetrates its tissues; it is thereby fed and grows,
-unfolds its first leaf upwards, throws downward its first rootlet,
-still feeding on the converted starch until it has developed the organs
-by which it can feed on the carbonic acid of the air and the soluble
-minerals of the soil. But for the original insolubility of the starch
-it would be washed away into the soil, and wasted ere the germ could
-absorb it.
-
-The maltster, by artificial heat and moisture, hastens this formation
-of dextrin and sugar; then by a roasting heat kills the baby plant just
-as it is breaking through the seed-sheath. Blue Ribbon orators miss a
-point in failing to notice this. It would be quite in their line to
-denounce with scathing eloquence such heartless infanticide.
-
-Diastase may be obtained by simply grinding freshly germinated barley
-or malt, moistening it with half its weight of warm water, allowing it
-to stand, and then pressing out the liquid. One part of diastase is
-sufficient to convert 2,000 parts of starch into dextrin, and from
-dextrin to sugar, if the action is continued. The most favourable
-temperature for this is 140° Fahr. The action ceases if the temperature
-be raised to the boiling point.
-
-The starch which we take so abundantly as food appears to have no
-more food-value to us than to the vegetable germ until the conversion
-into dextrin or sugar is effected. From what I have already stated
-concerning the action of heat upon starch, it is evident that this
-conversion is more or less effected in some processes of cookery. In
-the baking of bread an incipient conversion probably occurs throughout
-the loaf, while in the crust it is carried so far as to completely
-change most of the starch into dextrin, and some into sugar. Those
-of us who can remember our bread-and-milk may not have forgotten the
-gummy character of the crust when soaked. This may be felt by simply
-moistening a piece of crust in hot water and rubbing it between the
-fingers. A certain degree of sweetness may also be detected, though
-disguised by the bitterness of the caramel, which is also there.
-
-The final conversion of starch food into dextrin and sugar is effected
-in the course of digestion, especially, as already stated, in the first
-stage—that of insalivation. Saliva contains a kind of diastase, which
-has received the name of _salivary diastase_ and _mucin_. It does not
-appear to be exactly the same substance as vegetable diastase, though
-its action is similar. It is most abundantly secreted by herbivorous
-animals, especially by ruminating animals. Its comparative deficiency
-in carnivorous animals is shown by the fact that if vegetable matter is
-mixed with their food, starch passes through them unaltered.
-
-Some time is required for the conversion of the starch by this animal
-diastase, and in some animals there is a special laboratory or kitchen
-for effecting this preliminary cookery of vegetable food. Ruminating
-animals have a special stomach cavity for this purpose in which the
-food, after mastication, is held for some time and kept warm before
-passing into the cavity which secretes the gastric juice. The crop of
-grain-eating birds appears to perform a similar function. It is there
-mixed with a secretion corresponding to saliva, and is thus partially
-malted—in this case _before_ mastication in the gizzard.
-
-At a later stage of digestion, the starch that has escaped conversion
-by the saliva is again subjected to the action of animal diastase
-contained in the pancreatic juice, which is very similar to saliva.
-
-It is a fair inference from these facts that creatures like ourselves,
-who are not provided with a crop or compound stomach, and manifestly
-secrete less saliva than horses or other grain-munching animals,
-require some preliminary assistance when we adopt graminivorous habits;
-and one part of the business of cookery is to supply such preliminary
-treatment to the oats, barley, wheat, maize, peas, beans, &c., which we
-cultivate and use for food.
-
-I may add that the stomach itself appears to do very little, possibly
-nothing, towards the digestion of starch. The primary conversion into
-dextrin is effected by the saliva, and the subsequent digestion of this
-takes place in the duodenum and following portions of the intestinal
-canal. This applies equally to the less easily digested material of the
-vegetable tissue described in the preceding chapter. Hence the greater
-length of the intestinal canal in herbivorous animals as compared with
-the carnivora.
-
-Having described the changes effected by heat upon starch, and referred
-to its further conversion into dextrin and sugar, I will now take some
-practical examples of the cookery of starch foods, beginning with those
-which are composed of pure, or nearly pure, starch.
-
-When arrowroot is merely stirred in cold water, it sinks to the bottom
-undissolved and unaltered. When cooked in the usual manner to form the
-well-known mucilaginous or jelly-like food, the change is a simple case
-of the swelling and breaking up of the granules already described as
-occurring in water at the temperature of 140° Fahr. There appears to be
-no reason for limiting the temperature, as the same action takes place
-from 140° upwards to the boiling point of water.
-
-I may here mention a peculiarity of another form of nearly pure starch
-food, viz. tapioca, which is obtained by pulping and washing out
-the starch granules of the root of the _Manihot_, then heating the
-washed starch in pans, and stirring it while hot with iron or wooden
-paddles. This cooks and breaks up the granules, and agglutinates the
-starch into nodules which, as Mr. James Collins explains (‘Journal of
-Society of Arts,’ March 14, 1884), are thereby coated with dextrin, to
-which gummy coating some of the peculiarities of tapioca pudding are
-attributable. It is a curious fact that this _Manihot_ root, from which
-our harmless tapioca is obtained, is terribly poisonous. The plant is
-one of the large family of nauseous spurgeworts (_Euphorbiaceæ_). The
-poison resides in the milky juice surrounding the starch granules, but
-being both soluble in water and volatile, most of it is washed away
-in separating the starch granules, and any that remains after washing
-is driven off by the heating and stirring, which has to reach 240° in
-order to effect the changes above described.
-
-I suspect that the difference between the forms of tapioca and
-arrowroot has arisen from the necessity of thus driving off the last
-traces of the poison, with which the aboriginal manufacturers are
-so well acquainted as to combine the industry of poisoning their
-arrows with that of extracting the starch-food from the same root.
-No certificate from the public analyst is demanded to establish the
-absence of the poison from any given sample of tapioca, as the juice of
-the Manihot root, like that of other spurges, is unmistakably acrid and
-nauseous.
-
-Sago, which is a starch obtained from the pith of the stem of the
-sago-palm and other plants, is prepared in grains like tapioca, with
-similar results. Both sago and tapioca contain a little gluten, and
-therefore have more food-value than arrowroot.
-
-The most familiar of our starch foods is the potato. I place it
-among the starch foods as next to water; starch is its prevailing
-constituent, as the following statement of average compositions will
-show: Water, 75 per cent.; starch, 18·8; nitrogenous materials, 2;
-sugar, 3; fat, 0·2; salts, 1. The salts vary considerably with the kind
-and age of the potato, from 0·8 to 1·3 in full-grown. Young potatoes
-contain more. In boiling potatoes, the change effected appears to
-be simply a breaking up or bursting of the starch granules, and a
-conversion of the nitrogenous gluten into a more soluble form, probably
-by a certain degree of hydration. As we all know, there are great
-differences among potatoes; some are waxy, others floury; and these,
-again, vary according to the manner and degree of cooking. I cannot
-find any published account of the chemistry of these differences, and
-must, therefore, endeavour to explain them in my own way.
-
-As an experiment, take two potatoes of the floury kind; boil or steam
-them together until they are just softened throughout, or, as we say,
-‘well done.’ Now leave one of them in the saucepan or steamer, and
-very much over-cook it. Its floury character will have disappeared,
-it will have become soft and gummy. The reader can explain this by
-simply remembering what has already been explained concerning the
-formation of dextrin. It is due to the conversion of some of the
-starch into dextrin. My explanation of the difference between the
-waxy and floury potato is that the latter is so constituted that
-all the starch granules may be disintegrated by heat in the manner
-already described before any considerable proportion of the starch is
-converted into dextrin, while the starch of the waxy potatoes for some
-reason, probably a larger supply of diastase, is so much more readily
-convertible into dextrin, that a considerable proportion becomes gummy
-before the whole of the granules are broken up, _i.e._ before the
-potato is cooked or softened throughout.
-
-I must here throw myself into the great controversy of jackets or no
-jackets. Should potatoes be peeled before cooking, or should they be
-boiled in their jackets? I say most decidedly in jackets, and will
-state my reasons. From 53 to 56 per cent. of the above-stated saline
-constituents of the potato is potash, and potash is an important
-constituent of blood—so important that in Norway, where scurvy once
-prevailed very seriously, it has been banished since the introduction
-of the potato, and, according to Lang and other good authorities,
-this is owing to the use of potatoes by a people who formerly were
-insufficiently supplied with saline vegetable food.
-
-Potash salts are freely soluble in water, and I find that the water in
-which potatoes have been boiled contains potash, as may be proved by
-boiling it down to concentrate, then filtering and adding the usual
-potash test, platinum chloride.
-
-It is evident that the skin of the potato must resist this passage of
-the potash into the water, though it may not fully prevent it. The
-bursting of the skin only occurs at quite the latter stage of the
-cookery. The greatest practical authorities on the potato, Irishmen,
-appear to be unanimous. I do not remember to have seen a pre-peeled
-potato in Ireland. I find that I can at once detect by the difference
-of flavour whether a potato has been boiled with or without its jacket,
-and that this difference is evidently saline.
-
-These considerations lead to another conclusion, viz. that baked
-potatoes and fried potatoes, or potatoes cooked in such a manner as to
-be eaten with their own broth, as in Irish stew (in which cases the
-previous peeling does no mischief), are preferable to boiled potatoes.
-Steamed potatoes probably lose less of their potash juices than when
-boiled; but this is uncertain, as the modicum of distilled water
-condensed upon the potato and continually renewed may wash away as much
-as the larger quantity of hard water in which the boiled potato is
-immersed.
-
-Those who eat an abundance of fruit, of raw salads, and other
-vegetables supplying a sufficiency of potash to the blood, may peel and
-boil their potatoes; but the poor Irish peasant, who depends upon the
-potato for all his sustenance, requires that they shall supply him with
-potash.
-
-When travelling in Ireland (I explored every county of that country
-rather exhaustively during three successive summers when editing the
-4th edition of Murray’s ‘Handbook’), I was surprised at the absence
-of fruit-trees in the small farms where one might expect them to
-abound. On speaking of this the reason given was that all trees are
-the landlord’s property; that if a tenant should plant them they
-would suggest luxury and prosperity, and therefore a rise of rent; or
-otherwise stated, the tenant would be fined for thus improving the
-value of his holding. This was before the passing of the Land Act,
-which we may hope will put an end to such legalised brigandage. With
-the abolition of rack-renting the Irish peasant may grow and eat fruit;
-may even taste jam without fear and trembling; may grow rhubarb and
-make pies and puddings in defiance of the agent. When this is the case,
-his craving for potato-potash will probably diminish, and his children
-may actually feed on bread.
-
-I have been told by an American lady that in the fatherland of
-potatoes, as well as in their adopted country, they are always boiled
-or steamed in their jackets: that American cooks, like those of
-Ireland, would consider it an outrage to cut off the protecting skin
-of the potato before cooking it; that they are more commonly mashed
-there than here, and that the mashing is done by rapidly removing the
-skins and throwing the stripped potato into a supplementary saucepan or
-other vessel, in which they may be kept hot until the preparation is
-completed.
-
-As regards the nutritive value of the potato, it is well to understand
-that the common notion concerning its cheapness as an article of food
-is a fallacy. Taking Dr. Edward Smith’s figures, 760 grains of carbon
-and 24 grains of nitrogen are contained in 1 lb. of potatoes; 2½ lbs.
-of potatoes are required to supply the amount of carbon contained in
-1 lb. of bread; and 3½ lbs. of potatoes are necessary for supplying
-the nitrogen of 1 lb. of bread. With bread at 1½_d._ per lb., potatoes
-should cost less than ½_d._ per lb. in order to be as cheap as bread
-for the hard-working man who requires an abundance of nitrogenous food.
-
-Potatoes contain 17 per cent. of carbon; oatmeal has 73 per cent.
-Taking nitrogenous matter also into consideration, 1 lb. of oatmeal is
-worth 6 lbs. of potatoes.
-
-My own observations in Ireland have fully convinced me of the wisdom
-of William Cobbett’s denunciation of the potato as a staple article of
-food. The bulk that has to be eaten, and is eaten, in order to sustain
-life, converts the potato feeder into a mere assimilating machine
-during a largo part of the day, and renders him unfit for any kind of
-vigorous mental or bodily exertion. If I were the autocratic Czar of
-Ireland, my first step towards the regeneration of the Irish people
-would be the introduction, acclimatising, and dissemination of the
-Colorado beetle, in order to produce a complete and permanent potato
-famine. The effect of potato feeding may be studied by watching the
-work of a potato-fed Irish mower or reaper who comes across to work
-upon an English farm where the harvestmen are fed in the farmhouse and
-the supply of beer is not excessive. The improvement of his working
-powers after two or three weeks of English feeding is comparable to
-that of a horse when fed upon corn, beans, and hay, after feeding for a
-year on grass only.
-
-My strictures on the potato do not apply to them as used in England,
-where the prevailing vice of our ordinary diet is that it is too
-carnivorous. The potatoes we eat with our meat serve to dilute it, and
-supply the farinaceous element in which flesh is deficient.
-
-The reader may have observed that most of the starch foods are derived
-from the roots or stems of plants. Many others are used in tropical
-climates where little labour is demanded or done, and, therefore, but
-little nitrogenous food required.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[15] In fairness to retailers I should state that the price of
-arrowroot just now is unusually low; the ordinary range is from
-twopence to two shillings. People who are afraid of having their
-arrowroot adulterated should ask themselves what can be used to cheapen
-the St. Vincent at the above-quoted prices, which are those of the
-unquestionably genuine article.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII.
-
-GLUTEN—BREAD.
-
-
-HAVING treated the cookery of the chief constituents of the roots
-and stems of the plant, the fibre and the starch, I now come to food
-obtained from the seeds and the leaves.
-
-Taking the seeds first, as the more important, it becomes necessary to
-describe the nitrogenous constituents which are more abundant in them
-than in any other part of the plant, though they also contain starch
-and cell material, or woody fibre, as already stated.
-
-In the preceding chapter I described a method of separating starch from
-flour by washing a piece of dough in water, and thereby removing the
-starch granules, which fall to the bottom of the water. If this washing
-is continued until no further milkiness of the water is produced, the
-piece of dough will be much reduced in dimensions, and changed into a
-grey, tough, elastic, and viscous or glutinous substance, which has
-been compared to bird-lime, and has received the appropriate name of
-_gluten_. When dried, it becomes a hard, horny, transparent mass. It is
-insoluble in cold water, and partly soluble in hot water. It is soluble
-in strong vinegar, and in weak solutions of potash or soda. If the
-alkaline solution is neutralised by an acid, the gluten is precipitated.
-
-If crude gluten, obtained as above, is subjected to the action
-of hot alcohol, it is separated into two distinct substances, one
-soluble and the other insoluble. As the solution cools, a further
-separation takes place of a substance soluble in hot alcohol but
-not in cold, and another soluble in either hot or cold alcohol.
-The first, viz. that insoluble in either hot or cold alcohol, has
-been named _gluten-fibrin_; that soluble in hot alcohol, but not
-in cold, _gluten-casein_; and that soluble in either hot or cold
-alcohol, _glutin_. I give these names and explain them, as my readers
-may be otherwise puzzled by meeting them in books where they are
-used without explanation, especially as there is another substance
-presently to be described, to which the name of ‘vegetable casein’
-has also been applied. The gluten-fibrin is supposed to correspond
-with blood-fibrin, gluten-casein with animal-casein, and glutin with
-albumen. Their composition is as follows, which I append for what it
-is worth in connection with this theory, but mainly to show how small
-is the difference between the chemical composition of the nitrogenous
-constituents of animals and those of plants. I shall come to this
-subject again:
-
- +--------------------+---------------+---------------+--------+
- | -- | Gluten-Fibrin | Gluten-Casein | Glutin |
- +--------------------+---------------+---------------+--------+
- | Carbon | 53·23 | 53·46 | 53·27 |
- | Hydrogen | 7·01 | 7·13 | 7·17 |
- | Nitrogen | 16·41 | 16·04 | 15·94 |
- | Oxygen and sulphur | 23·35 | 23·37 | 23·62 |
- +--------------------+---------------+---------------+--------+
-
- +--------------------+---------------+---------------+--------+
- | | Blood-Fibrin | | |
- | -- | (Scherer) | Animal-Casein | Albumen|
- +--------------------+---------------+---------------+--------+
- | Carbon | 53·57 | 53·83 | 53·50 |
- | Hydrogen | 6·90 | 7·15 | 7·00 |
- | Nitrogen | 15·72 | 15·65 | 15·50 |
- | Oxygen and sulphur | 22·81 | 23·37 | 24·00 |
- +--------------------+---------------+---------------+--------+
-
-Gluten is usually described as ‘partly soluble in hot water.’ My own
-examination of this substance suggests that ‘partially soluble’ is a
-better description than ‘partly soluble’ (Miller) or ‘very slightly
-soluble’ (Lehmann). This difference is not merely a verbal quibble, but
-very real and practical in reference to the _rationale_ of its cookery.
-A partially soluble substance is one which is composed of soluble and
-also of insoluble constituents, which, as already stated, is strictly
-the case with gluten in reference to the solvent action of hot alcohol.
-A very slightly soluble substance is one that dissolves completely, but
-demands a very large quantity of the solvent. I find that the action of
-hot water on gluten, as applied in cookery, is to effect what may be
-described as a partial solution—that is, it effects a loosening of the
-bonds of solidity without going so far as to render it completely fluid.
-
-It appears to be a sort of hydration similar to that which is effected
-by hot water on starch, but less decided.
-
-To illustrate this, wash some flour in cold water so as to separate
-the gluten in the manner already described; then boil some flour as in
-making ordinary bill-stickers’ paste, and wash this in cold water. The
-gluten will come out with difficulty from this, and, when separated,
-will be softer and less tenacious than the cold-washed specimen. This
-difference remains until some of the water it contains is driven out,
-for which reason I regard it as hydrated, though I am not prepared to
-say that the hydration is of a truly chemical character—a definite
-chemical combination of gluten with water; it may be only a mechanical
-combination—a loosening of solidity by a molecular intermingling of
-water.
-
-The importance of this in the cookery of grain-food is very great, as
-anybody who aspires to the honour of becoming a martyr to science may
-prove by simply making a meal on raw wheat, masticating the grains
-until reduced to small pills of gluten, and then swallowing them. Mild
-indigestion or acute spasms will follow, according to the quantity
-taken and the digestive energies of the experimenter. Raw flour will
-act similarly, but less decidedly.
-
-Bread-making is the most important, as well as a typical example, of
-the cookery of grain-food. The grinding of the grain is the first
-process of such cookery; it vastly increases the area exposed to the
-subsequent actions.
-
-The next stage is that of surrounding each grain of the flour with
-a thin film of water. This is done in making the dough by careful
-admixture of a modicum of water and kneading, in order to squeeze
-the water well between all the particles. The effect of insufficient
-enveloping in water is sometimes seen in a loaf containing a white
-powdery kernel of unmixed flour.
-
-If nothing more than this were done, and such simple dough were baked,
-the starch granules would be duly broken up and hydrated, the gluten
-also hydrated, but, at the same time, the particles of flour would be
-so cemented together as to form a mass so hard and tough when baked,
-that no ordinary human teeth could crush it. Among all our modern
-triumphs of applied science, none can be named that is more refined and
-elegant than the old device by which this difficulty is overcome in the
-everyday business of making bread. Who invented it, and when, I do not
-know. Its discovery was certainly very far anterior to any knowledge
-of the chemical principles involved in its application, and probably
-accidental.
-
-The problem has a very difficult aspect. Here are millions of
-particles, each of which has to be moistened on its surface, but each,
-when thus moistened, becomes remarkably adhesive, and therefore sticks
-fast to all its surrounding neighbours. We require, without altogether
-suppressing this adhesiveness, to interpose a barrier that shall sunder
-these millions of particles from each other so delicately as neither to
-separate them completely nor allow them to completely adhere.
-
-It is evident that, if the operation that supplies each particle with
-its film of moisture can simultaneously supply it with a partial
-atmosphere of gaseous matter, the difficult and delicate problem will
-be effectively solved. It is thus solved in making bread.
-
-As already explained, the seed which is broken up into flour contains
-diastase as well as starch, and this diastase, when aided by moisture
-and moderate warmth, converts the starch into dextrin and sugar. This
-action commences when the dough is made; this alone would only increase
-the adhesiveness of the mass, if it went no further, but the sugar
-thus produced may, by the aid of a suitable ferment, be converted into
-alcohol. As the composition of alcohol corresponds to that of sugar,
-minus carbonic acid, the evolution of carbonic acid gas is an essential
-part of this conversion.
-
-With these facts before us, their practical application in bread-making
-is easily understood. To the water with which the flour is to be
-moistened some yeast is added, and the yeast-cells, which are very
-much smaller than the grains of flour, are diffused throughout the
-water. The flour is moistened with this liquid, which only demands a
-temperature of about 70° Fahr. to act with considerable energy on every
-granule of flour that it touches. Instead, then, of the passive, lumpy,
-tenacious dough produced by moistening the flour with mere water, a
-lively ‘sponge,’ as the baker calls it, is produced, which ‘rises’
-or grows in bulk by the evolution and interposition of millions of
-invisibly small bubbles of gas. This sponge is mixed with more flour
-and water, and kneaded and kneaded again to effect a complete and equal
-diffusion of the gas bubbles, and finally, the porous mass of dough is
-placed in an oven previously raised to a temperature of about 450°.
-
-The baker’s old-fashioned method of testing the temperature of his oven
-is instructive. He throws flour on the floor. If it blackens without
-taking fire, the heat is considered sufficient. It might be supposed
-that this is too high a temperature, as the object is to cook the
-flour, not to burn it. But we must remember that the flour which has
-been prepared for baking is mixed with water, and the evaporation of
-this water will materially lower the temperature of the dough itself.
-Besides this, we must bear in mind that another object is to be
-attained. A hard shell or crust has to be formed, which will so encase
-and support the lump of dough as to prevent it from subsiding when the
-further evolution of carbonic acid gas shall cease, which will be the
-case some time before the cooking of the mass is completed. It will
-happen when the temperature reaches the point at which the yeast-cells
-can no longer germinate, which temperature is considerably below the
-boiling point of water.
-
-In spite of this high outside temperature, that of the inner part of
-the loaf is kept down to a little above 212° by the evaporation of
-the water contained in the bread. The escape of this vapour and the
-expansion of the carbonic acid bubbles by heat combine to increase the
-porosity of the loaf.
-
-The outside being heated considerably above the temperature of the
-inner part, this variation produces the differences between the
-crust and the crumb. The action of the high temperature in directly
-converting some of the starch into dextrin will be understood from what
-I have already stated, and also the partial conversion of this dextrin
-into caramel, which was described in Chapter VII.
-
-Thus we have in the crust an excess of dextrin as compared with
-the crumb, and the addition of a variable quantity of caramel. In
-lightly-baked bread, with a crust of uniform pale yellowish colour, the
-conversion of the dextrin into caramel has barely commenced, and the
-gummy character of the dextrin coating is well displayed. Some such
-bread, especially the long staves of life common in France, appear as
-though they had been varnished, and their crust is partially soluble in
-water.
-
-This explains the apparent paradox that hard crust, or dry toast, is
-more easily digested than the soft crumb of bread; the cookery of the
-crumb not having been carried beyond the mere hydration of the gluten
-and the starch, and such degree of dextrin formation as was due to
-the action of the diastase of the grain during the preliminary period
-of ‘rising.’ In the crust some of the work of insalivation is already
-done by the baker. The digestibility of toast is doubtless aided by its
-brittleness, causing it to be more broken up and mixed with the saliva.
-
-Everybody has, of course, heard of ‘unfermented bread,’ and many have
-tasted it. Several methods have been devised, some patented, for
-effecting an evolution of gas in the dough without having recourse to
-the fermentation above described. One of these is that of adding a
-little hydrochloric acid to the water used in moistening the flour, and
-mixing bicarbonate of soda in powder with the flour (to every 4 lbs.
-of flour ½ oz. bicarbonate and 4½ fluid drachms of hydrochloric acid of
-1·16 specific gravity). These combine and form sodium chloride, common
-salt, with evolution of carbonic acid. The salt thus formed takes the
-place of that usually added in ordinary bread-making, and the carbonic
-acid gas evolved acts like that given off in fermentation; but the
-rapidity of the action of the acid and carbonate presents a difficulty.
-The bread must be quickly made, as the action is soon completed. It
-does not go on steadily increasing and stopping just at the right
-moment, as in the case of fermentation.
-
-Other methods similar in principle have been adopted, such as adding
-ammonia carbonate with the soda carbonate. The ammonia salt is volatile
-itself, besides evolving carbonic acid by its union with the acid.
-
-In spite of the great amount of ingenuity expended upon the manufacture
-of such unfermented bread, and the efforts to bring it into use, but
-little progress has been made. The general verdict appears to be that
-the unfermented bread is not so ‘sweet,’ that it lacks some element of
-flavour, is ‘chippy’ or tasteless as compared with good old-fashioned
-wheaten bread, free from alum or other adulteration. My theory of this
-difference is that it is due to the absence of those changes which
-take place while the sponge or dough is rising, when, if I am right,
-the diastase of the grain is operating, as in germination, to produce
-a certain quantity of dextrin and sugar, and possibly acting also on
-the gluten. Deficiency of dextrin is, I think, the chief cause of the
-chippy character of aerated bread. It must be remembered that, in
-ordinary bread-making, the fermentation is protracted over several
-hours, during which the temperature most favourable to germination is
-steadily maintained.
-
-The practical importance of the fermentation is strikingly shown by the
-fact that, in the course of sponge rising, dough rising, and baking,
-a loaf becomes about four times as large as the original mixture of
-flour, water, &c., of which it was made; or, otherwise stated, an
-ordinary loaf is made up of one part of solid bread to more than three
-parts of air bubbles or pores. French rolls and some other kinds of
-fancy bread are still more gaseous.
-
-So far I have only named the flour, water, salt, and yeast. These,
-with a little sugar or milk, added according to taste and custom, are
-the ingredients of home-made bread, but ‘bakers’ bread’ is commonly,
-though not necessarily, somewhat more complex. There is the material
-technically known as ‘fruit,’ and another which bears the equivocal
-name of ‘stuff,’ or ‘rocky.’ The _fruit_ are potatoes. The quantity
-of these prescribed in Knight’s ‘Guide to Trade’ is one peck to the
-sack of flour. This proportion is so small (about 3 per cent. by
-weight) that, if not exceeded, it cannot be regarded as a fraudulent
-adulteration, for the additional cost involved in the boiling,
-skinning, and general preparing of the small addition exceeds the
-saving in the price of raw material. The fruit, therefore, is not added
-merely because it is cheaper than flour, as many people suppose.
-
-The instructions concerning its use given in the work above named
-clearly indicate that the potato flour is used to assist fermentation.
-These instructions prescribe that the peck of potatoes shall be boiled
-in their skins, mashed in the ‘seasoning tub,’ then mixed with two or
-three quarts of water, the same quantity of patent yeast, and three or
-four pounds of flour. The mixture is left to stand for six or twelve
-hours, when it will have become what is called a _ferment_. After
-straining through a sieve, to separate the skins of the fruit, it is
-mixed with the sack of flour, water, &c.
-
-It is evident from this that it would not pay to add such a quantity in
-such a manner as a mere adulterant. The baker uses it for improving the
-bread, from his point of view.
-
-The _stuff_ or _rocky_ consists, according to Tomlinson, of one part of
-alum to three parts of common salt. The same authority tells us that
-the bakers buy this at 2_d._ per packet, containing 1 lb. in each, and
-that they believe it to be ground alum. They buy it thus for immediate
-use, being subject to a heavy fine if they keep alum on the premises.
-The quantity of the mixture ordinarily used is 8 oz. to each sack of
-flour weighing 280 lbs., so that the proportion of alum is but 2 oz. to
-280 lbs. As one sack of flour is (with water) made into eighty loaves
-weighing 4 lbs. each, the quantity of alum in 1 lb. of bread amounts to
-1/160th of an oz.
-
-The _rationale_ of the action of this small quantity of alum is still
-a chemical puzzle. That it has an appreciable effect in improving
-the _appearance_ of the bread is unquestionable, and it may actually
-improve the quality of bread made from inferior flour.
-
-One of the baker’s technical tests of quality is the manner in which
-the loaves of a batch separate from each other. That they should break
-evenly and present a somewhat silky rather than a lumpy fracture, is a
-matter of trade estimation. When the fracture is rough and lumpy, one
-loaf pulling away some of the just belongings of its neighbour, the
-feelings of the orthodox baker are much wounded. The alum is said to
-prevent this impropriety, while an excess of salt aggravates it.
-
-It appears to be a fact that this small quantity of alum whitens the
-bread. In this, as in so many other cases of adulteration, there
-are two guilty parties—the buyer who demands impossible or unnatural
-appearances, and the manufacturer or vendor who supplies the foolish
-demand. The judging of bread by its whiteness is a mistake which has
-led to much mischief, against which the recent agitation for ‘whole
-meal’ is, I think, an extreme reaction.
-
-If the husk, which is demanded by the whole-meal agitators, were as
-digestible as the inner flour, they would unquestionably be right, but
-it is easy to show that it is not, and that in some cases the passage
-of the undigested particles may produce mischievous irritation in the
-intestinal canal. My own opinion on this subject (it still remains in
-the region of opinion rather than of science) is that a middle course
-is the right one, viz. that bread should be made of moderately-dressed
-or ‘seconds’ flour rather than over-dressed ‘firsts’ or undressed
-‘thirds’—_i.e._ unsifted whole-meal flour.
-
-Such seconds flour does not fairly produce white bread, and consumers
-are unwise in demanding whiteness. In my household we make our own
-bread, but occasionally, when the demand exceeds ordinary supply, a
-loaf or two is bought from the baker. I find that, with corresponding
-or identical flour, the baker’s bread is whiter than the home-made, and
-proportionally inferior. I may describe it as colourless in flavour,
-it lacks the characteristic of wheaten sweetness. There are, however,
-exceptions to this, as certain bakers are now doing a great business in
-supplying what they call ‘home-made’ or ‘farmhouse’ bread. It is darker
-in colour than ordinary bread, but is sold nevertheless at a higher
-price, and I find that it has the flavour of the bread made in my own
-kitchen. When their customers become more intelligent, all the bakers
-will doubtless cease to incur the expense of buying packets of ‘stuff’
-or ‘rocky,’ or any other bleaching abomination.
-
-Liebig asserts that in certain cases the use of lime-water improves the
-quality of bread. Tomlinson says that ‘in the time of bad harvests,
-when the wheat is damaged, the flour may be considerably improved,
-without any injurious result whatever, by the addition of from 20 to 40
-grains of carbonate of magnesia to every pound of flour.’ It is also
-stated that chalk has been used for the same purpose. These would all
-act in nearly the same manner by neutralising any acid, such as acetic,
-that might already exist or be generated in the course of fermentation.
-
-When gluten is kept in a moist state, it slowly loses its soft,
-elastic, and insoluble condition; if kept in water for a few days, it
-gradually runs down into a turbid, slimy solution, which does not form
-dough when mixed with starch. The gluten of imperfectly-ripened wheat,
-or of flour or wheat that has been badly kept in the midst of humid
-surroundings, appears to have fallen partially into this condition, the
-gluten being an actively hygroscopic substance.
-
-Liebig’s experiments show that flour in which the gluten has undergone
-this partial change may have its original qualities restored by mixing
-100 parts of flour with 26 or 27 parts of saturated lime-water and a
-sufficiency of ordinary water to work it into dough. I suspect that
-the action of the alum is of a similar kind, though this does not
-satisfactorily account for the bleaching.
-
-The action of sulphate of copper, which has been used in Belgium and
-other places for improving the appearance and sponginess of loaves, is
-still more mysterious than that of alum. Kuhlmann found that a single
-grain in a 4-lb. loaf produced a marked alteration in the appearance
-of the bread. Fortunately this adulteration, if perpetrated to a
-mischievous extent, may be easily detected by acidulating the crumb,
-and then moistening with a solution of ferrocyanide of potassium.
-The brown colour thus produced betrays the presence of copper. The
-detection of alum in small quantities is extremely difficult.
-
-I should add that the ancient method of effecting the fermentation of
-bread, which I understand is still employed to some extent in France,
-differs somewhat from the ordinary modern English practice.
-
-When flour made into dough is kept for some time moderately warm, it
-undergoes spontaneous fermentation, formerly described as ‘panary
-fermentation,’ and supposed to be of a different nature from the
-fermentation which produces yeast.
-
-Dough in this condition is called _leaven_, and when kneaded with fresh
-flour and water its fermentation is communicated to the whole lump;
-hence the ancient metaphors. In practice the leaven was obtained by
-setting aside some of the dough of a previous batch, and adding this
-to the next when its fermentation had reached its maximum activity.
-One reason why the modern method has superseded this appears to be
-that the leaven is liable to proceed onward beyond the first stage of
-fermentation, or that producing alcohol, and run into the acetous, or
-vinegar-forming fermentation, producing sour bread. Another reason may
-be that the potato mixture above described, which is but another kind
-of leaven, is more effectual and convenient.
-
-Dr. Dauglish’s method (patented in 1856, 1857, and 1858) is based on
-the fact that water under pressure absorbs and holds in solution a
-large quantity of carbonic acid gas, which escapes when the pressure
-is diminished, as in uncorking soda-water, &c. Dr. Dauglish places the
-flour in a strong, air-tight iron vessel, then forces water saturated
-with carbonic acid under high pressure into this; kneading-knives mix
-the dough by their rotation. When the mixture is completed a trap at
-the lower part of the globular iron vessel is opened. The pressure of
-the confined carbonic acid above forces the dough through this in a
-cylindrical jet or flat ribbon as required, and this squirted cylinder
-or ribbon is fashioned by suitable cutters, &c., into loaves. The
-compressed gas expands, and the loaves are smartly baked before the
-expansive energy of the gas is exhausted. It is justly claimed for this
-process that it is far more cleanly than the ordinary method of making
-bread, as with suitable machinery such ‘aerated bread’ can be made
-without handling.
-
-The difference between new and stale bread is familiar enough, but
-the nature of the difference is by no means so commonly understood.
-It is generally supposed to be a simple result of mere drying. That
-this is not a true explanation may be easily proved by repeating the
-experiments of Boussingault, who placed a very stale loaf (six days
-old) in an oven for an hour, during which time it was, of course,
-being further dried; but, nevertheless, it came out as a new loaf. He
-found that during the six days, while becoming stale, it only lost 1
-per cent. of its weight by drying, and that during the one hour in the
-oven it lost 3½ per cent. in becoming new, and apparently more moist.
-By using an air-tight case instead of an ordinary oven, he repeated
-the experiment several times in succession on the same piece of bread,
-making it alternately stale and new each time.
-
-For this experiment the oven should be but moderately heated—260°
-to 300° Fahr. is sufficient. I am fond of hot rolls for breakfast,
-and frequently have them _à la Boussingault_, by treating stale
-bread-crusts in this manner. My wife tells me that when the crusts
-have been long neglected, and are thin, the Boussingault hot rolls are
-improved by dipping the crust in water before putting it into the oven.
-This is not necessary in experimenting with a whole loaf or a thick
-piece of stale bread.
-
-The crumb of bread, whether new or stale, contains about 45 per cent.
-of water. Miller says ‘the difference in properties between the two
-depends simply upon difference in molecular arrangement.’
-
-This ‘molecular arrangement’ is the customary modern method of
-explaining a multitude of similar physical and chemical problems, or,
-as I would rather say, of evading explanation under the cover of a
-vague conventional phrase.
-
-I have made some simple experiments which supply a visible explanation
-of the facts without invoking the aid of any invisible atoms or
-molecules, or any imaginary arrangements or rearrangements of these
-imaginary entities.
-
-I find that, as bread becomes stale, its porosity _appears_ to
-increase, and that when renewed by reheating, it returns to its
-original _apparently_ smaller degree of porosity. That this change can
-be only apparent is evident from the facts that the total quantity of
-solid material in the loaf remains the same, and its total dimensions
-are retained more or less completely by the rigidity of the crust.
-I say ‘more or less,’ because this depends upon the thickness
-and hardness of the crust, and also upon the completeness of its
-surrounding. Lightly-baked loaves shrink a little in dimensions in
-becoming stale, and partly regain the loss on reheating, but this
-difference only exaggerates the apparent paradox of varying porosity,
-as the diminished bulk of a given quantity of material displays
-increased porosity, and the increase of total dimensions accompanies
-the diminished porosity.
-
-I have obtained a reconciliation of this paradox by careful examination
-of the structure of the crumb. This shows that the larger or decidedly
-visible pores are cells having walls of somewhat silky appearance. The
-silky lustre and structure is, I have no doubt, due to a varnish of
-dextrin, the gummy nature of which I have already described. On looking
-a little more closely at this inner surface of the big blow-holes
-with the aid of a hand-lens of moderate power, I find that it is not
-a continuous varnish of gum, but a net-work or agglomeration of gummy
-fibres and particles, barely touching each other.
-
-My theory of the change that takes place as the bread becomes stale is,
-that these fibres and particles gradually approach each other either
-by shrinkage or adhesive attraction, and thus consolidate and harden
-the walls of each of the millions of easily visible pores, these walls
-forming the solid material of which the loaf is made up. In doing so
-they naturally increase the dimensions of the visible pores, while the
-microscopic interstices or spaces between the minute fibres of the cell
-walls are diminished by the approximation or adhesion of the fibres to
-each other.
-
-This adhesion is probably aided by an oozing out or efflorescence
-of the vapour held by the fibres, and its condensation on their
-surfaces. This point, be it understood, is merely hypothetical, as
-the efflorescence is not visible. All the other phenomena I have just
-described are visible either with the naked eye or by the aid of a lens.
-
-When the stale bread is again heated, a general expansion occurs by
-the conversion of liquid water into aqueous vapour, every grain of
-water thus converted expanding to 1,700 times its former bulk. As
-this happens throughout, _i.e._ upon the surface of every one of the
-countless fibres or particles, there must be a general elbowing in
-the crowd, breaking up the recent adhesion between these fibres and
-thrusting them all apart in the directions of least resistance; _i.e._
-towards the open spaces of the larger and visible pores, producing that
-_apparent_ diminution of porosity that I have observed as the easily
-visible characteristic of the change.
-
-This explanation may be further demonstrated by cutting a loaf through
-the middle from top to bottom, and exposing the cut surfaces. In this
-case the bread becomes unequally stale, more so near the cut surface
-than within. The unequal pull due to the greater approximation and
-adhesion of the fibres and small particles causes a rupture of the
-exposed surface of the crumb, which becomes cracked or fissured without
-any perceptible alteration of the size of the visible pores. If the two
-broken faces be now accurately placed together, the halves thus closely
-joined, firmly tied, and placed for an hour in the oven, it will be
-seen on separating them that the chasms are considerably closed, though
-not quite healed. Careful examination of the structure of the inside,
-by breaking out a portion of the crumb, will reveal that loosening
-which I have described.
-
-‘Popped corn’ is a peculiar example of starch cookery. Here a certain
-degree of porosity is given to an originally close-compacted structure
-of starch by the simple operation of explosive violence due to the
-sudden conversion into vapour of the water naturally associated with
-the starch. The operation is too rapid for the production of much
-dextrin.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII.
-
-VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES.
-
-
-AS most of my readers doubtless know, peas, beans, lentils and other
-seeds of leguminous plants are more nutritious, theoretically, than the
-seeds of grasses, such as wheat, barley, oats, maize, &c. I was glad
-to see at the Health Exhibition a fine series of the South Kensington
-cases, displaying in the simplest and most demonstrative manner the
-proximate analyses of the chief materials of animal and vegetable food.
-I refer to them now because they did not receive the attention they
-deserve. On the opening day there was, out of all the crowd, only one
-other besides myself bestowing any attention upon them. These cases
-show 1 lb. of wheat, oats, potatoes, peas, &c. &c., on trays; by the
-side of these are bottles, containing the quantity of water in the 1
-lb., and other trays, containing the other constituents of the same
-quantity; the starch, gluten, casein, the mineral matter, &c., thus
-displaying at a glance the nutritious value of each so far as chemical
-analysis can display it. Those Irishmen and others who think I have
-been too hard upon the potato, will do well to take its nutritive
-measure thus, and compare it with that of other vegetable foods. I
-should add that these cases form a part of the permanent collection of
-the South Kensington Museum, and therefore may be studied at any time.
-
-All the leguminous seeds, the ground-nuts, &c., have their nitrogenous
-constituents displayed under the name of ‘casein.’ The use of this term
-is rather confusing. In many modern books it does not appear at all in
-connection with the vegetable kingdom, but is replaced by ‘legumin.’
-Liebig regarded this nitrogenous constituent of the leguminous seeds,
-almonds, &c., as identical with the casein of milk, and it was a
-pupil and friend of Liebig’s—the late Prince Consort—who devised and
-originally supervised this graphic method of displaying the chemistry
-of food.[16]
-
-I will not here discuss the vexed question of whether the analyses
-of Liebig, identifying legumin with casein, or rather those of Dumas
-and Cahours, who state that the vegetable casein is not of the same
-composition as animal casein, are correct.
-
-The following figures display my justification for thus lightly
-treating the discussion:
-
- +--------------------+--------+---------+---------+---------+
- | -- | Casein | Legumin | Legumin | Legumin |
- +--------------------+--------+---------+---------+---------+
- | Carbon | 53·7 | 50·50 | 55·05 | 56·24 |
- | Hydrogen | 7·2 | 6·78 | 7·59 | 7·97 |
- | Nitrogen | 16·6 | 18·17 | 15·89 | 15·83 |
- | Oxygen and Sulphur | 22·5 | 24·55 | 21·47 | 19·96 |
- +--------------------+--------+---------+---------+---------+
-
-The first column shows the results of Dumas for animal casein; the
-second, those of Dumas and Cahours for legumin; the third, those of
-Jones for the same; and the fourth, those of Rochleder; all as quoted
-by Lehmann. Here it will be seen that the differences upon which
-Dumas and Cahours base their supposed refutation of the identity of
-the animal with the vegetable principle are much smaller than the
-differences between the results of different analyses of the latter.
-These differences I suspect are all due to the difficulty of isolating
-the substances in question, especially of the vegetable substance,
-which is so intimately mixed with the starch, &c., in its natural
-condition that complete separation is of questionable possibility. The
-difficulty (or impossibility) of driving off all the adhering water,
-without removing the combined elements of water, is a further source of
-discrepancy.
-
-This will be understood by the following description of the method of
-separation as given by Miller (‘Elements of Chemistry,’ vol. iii.).
-‘Legumin is usually extracted from peas or from almonds, by digesting
-the pulp of the crushed seeds in warm water for two or three hours. The
-undissolved portion is strained off by means of linen, and the turbid
-liquid allowed to deposit the starch which it holds in suspension; it
-is then filtered and mixed with dilute acetic acid. A white flocculent
-precipitate is thus formed, which must be collected on a filter and
-washed.’
-
-This is but a mechanical process, and its liability to variation
-in result may be learned by anybody who will repeat it, or who has
-separated the gluten of flour by similar treatment.
-
-Practically regarded in relation to our present subject, casein and
-legumin may be considered as the same. Their nutritive values are
-equal, and exceptionally high, supposing they can be digested and
-assimilated. One is the most difficult of digestion of the nitrogenous
-constituents of vegetable food, and the other enjoys the same
-distinction among those of animal food. Both primarily exist in a
-soluble form; both are rendered solid and insoluble in water by the
-action of acids; _both are precipitated as a curd by rennet_, and both
-are rendered soluble after precipitation, or are retained in their
-original soluble form by the action of alkalies. They nearly resemble
-_in flavour_, and John Chinaman makes actual cheese from peas and beans.
-
- Pease-pudding hot, pease-pudding cold,
- Pease-pudding in the pot, nine days old.
-
-I leave to Mr. Clodd the historical problem of determining whether this
-notable couplet is of Semitic, Aryan, Neolithic, or Paleolithic origin.
-Regarded from my point of view, it expresses a culinary and chemical
-principle of some importance, and indicates an ancient practice that is
-worthy of revival.
-
-I have lately made some experiments on the ensilage of human food,
-whereby the cellular tissue of the vegetable may be gradually subjected
-to that breaking up of fibre already described. One of the curious
-achievements of chemical metamorphoses that is often quoted as a matter
-for wonderment is the conversion of old rags into sugar by treating
-them with acid. The wonderment of this is diminished, and its interest
-increased, when we remember that the cellulose or woody fibre of which
-the rags are composed has the same composition as starch, and thus
-its conversion into sugar corresponds to the every-day proceedings
-described in Chapter XI. All that I have read and seen in connection
-with the recent ensilage experiments on cattle fodder indicate that
-it is a process of slow vegetable cookery, a digesting or maceration
-of fibrous vegetables in their own juices, which loosens the fibre,
-renders it softer and more digestible, and not only does this, but, to
-some extent, converts it into dextrin and sugar.
-
-I hereby recommend those gentlemen who have ensilage-pits and are
-sufficiently enterprising to try bold experiments, to water the fodder,
-as it is being packed down, with dilute hydrochloric acid or acetic
-acid, which, if I am not deluded by plausible theory, will materially
-increase the sugar-forming action of the ensilage. The acid, if
-not over-supplied, will find ammonia and other bases with which to
-neutralise itself.
-
-Such ensilage will correspond to that which occurs when we gather
-Jersey or other superlatively fine pears in autumn as soon as they are
-full grown. They are then hard, woody, and acid, quite unfit for food,
-but by simply storing them for a month, or two, or three, they become
-lusciously tender and sweet; the woody fibres are converted into sugar,
-the acid neutralised, and all this by simply fulfilling the conditions
-of ensilage, viz. close packing of the fibre, exclusion of air by the
-thick rind of the fruit, _plus_ the other condition which I have just
-suggested, viz. the diffusion of acid among the well-packed fibres of
-the ensilage material.
-
-In my experiments on the ensilage of human food I have encountered
-the same difficulty as that which has troubled graziers in their
-experiments, viz. that small-scale results do not fairly represent
-those obtained with large quantities. There is besides this another
-element of imperfection in my experiments respecting which I am bound
-to be candid to my readers, viz. that the idea of thus extending the
-principle was suggested in the course of writing this series, and,
-therefore, a sufficient time has not yet elapsed to enable me (with
-much other occupation) to do practical justice to the investigation.
-
-I find that oatmeal-porridge is greatly improved by being made some
-days before it is required, then stored in a closed jar, brought
-forth and heated for use. The change effected is just that which
-theoretically may be expected, viz. a softening of the fibrous
-material, and a sweetening due to the formation of sugar. This
-sweetening I observed many years ago in some gruel that was partly
-eaten one night and left standing until next morning, when I thought
-it tasted sweeter; but to be assured of this I had it warmed again two
-nights afterwards, so that it might be tasted under the same conditions
-of temperature, palate, &c., as at first. The sweetness was still more
-distinct, but the experiment was carried no further.
-
-I have lately learned that my ensilage notion is not absolutely new.
-A friend who read my Cantor Lectures tells me that he has long been
-accustomed to have his porridge made some days before eating it, then
-having it warmed up when required. He finds the result more digestible
-than newly-made porridge. The classical nine days’ old pease-pudding
-is a similar anticipation, and I find, rather curiously, that nine
-days is about the limit to which it may be practically kept in a cool
-place before mildew—mouldiness—is sufficiently established to spoil
-the pudding. I have not yet tried a barrel full of pease-pudding or
-moistened pease-meal, closely covered and powerfully pressed down, but
-hope to do so.
-
-Besides these we have a notable example of ensilage in sour-kraut—a
-foreign luxury that John Bull, with his usual blindness, denounces,
-as a matter of course. ‘Horrid stuff!’ ‘beastly mess!’ and such-like
-expressions I hear whenever I name it to certain persons. Who are
-these persons? Simply English men and English women who have never
-seen, never tasted, and know nothing whatever of what they denounce
-so violently, in spite of the fact that it is a staple article of food
-among millions of highly-intelligent people. Common sense (to say
-nothing of that highest result of true scientific training, the faculty
-of suspending judgment until the arrival of knowledge) should suggest
-that some degree of investigation should precede the denunciation.
-
-In the cases of the sour-kraut and the ripening pear there is acid at
-work upon the fibre, which, as I have before stated, assists in the
-conversion of this indigestible constituent into soluble and digestible
-dextrin and sugar.
-
-The demand for the solution of the vegetable casein or legumin, which
-has such high nutritive value and is so abundant in peas, &c., is of
-the opposite kind. Acids solidify and harden casein, alkalies soften
-and dissolve it. Therefore the chemical agent suggested as a suitable
-aid in the ensilage or slow cookery, or the boiling or rapid cookery,
-of leguminous food is such an alkali as may be wholesome and compatible
-with the demands for nutrition.
-
-The analyses of peas, beans, lentils, &c., show a deficiency of
-potash salts as compared with the quantity of nitrogenous nutriment
-they contain; therefore I propose, as in the case of cheese food,
-that we should add this potash in the convenient and safe form of
-bicarbonate—not merely add it to the water in which the vegetables may
-be boiled, and which water is thrown away (as in the common practice
-of adding soda when boiling greens), but add the potash to the actual
-pease-porridge, pease-pudding, lentil soup, &c., and treat it as a part
-of the food as well as an adjunct to the cookery. This is especially
-required when we use dried peas, dried beans of any kind, such as
-haricots, dried lentils, &c.
-
-I find that taking the ordinary yellow split-peas and boiling them
-in a weak solution of bicarbonate of potash for two or three hours, a
-partial solution of the casein is effected, producing pease-pudding, or
-pease-porridge, or _purée_ (according to the quantity of water used),
-which is softer and more gelid than that which is obtained by similarly
-boiling without the potash. The undissolved portion evidently consists
-of the fibrous tissue of the peas, the gelatinous or dissolved portion
-being the starch, with more or less of casein. I say ‘more or less,’
-because at present I have not been able to determine whether or not the
-casein is _all_ rendered soluble.
-
-The flavour of the clear pea-soup which I obtained by filtering through
-flannel shows that some of the casein is dissolved; this is further
-demonstrated by adding an acid to the clear solution, which at once
-precipitates the dissolved casein. The filtered pea-soup sets to a
-stiff jelly on cooling, and promises to be a special food of some
-value, but for the reasons above stated, I am not yet able to speak
-positively as to its quantitative value. The experience of any one
-person is not sufficient for this, the question being, not whether
-it contains nutritive material—this is unquestionable—but whether it
-is easily digested and assimilated. As we all know, a food of this
-kind may ‘agree’ with some persons and not with others—_i.e._ it may
-be digested and assimilated with ease or with difficulty according
-to personal idiosyncrasies. The cheesy character of the abundant
-precipitate which I obtain by acidulating this solution is very
-interesting and instructive, regarded from a chemical point of view.
-The solubility of the casein is increased by soaking the peas for some
-hours, or, better still, a few days, in the solution of bicarbonate of
-potash.
-
-Another question is opened by these experiments, viz. what is the
-character and the value of the fibrous solid matter remaining behind
-after filtering out the clear pea-soup? Has the alkali acted in an
-opposite manner to the acid in the ripening pear? Is it merely a
-fibrous refuse only fit for pig-food, or is it deserving of further
-attention in the kitchen? Should it be treated with dilute acid—say
-a little vinegar—to break up the fibre, and thereby be made into
-good porridge? Other questions crop up here as they have been
-cropping continually since I committed myself to the writing of these
-papers, and so abundantly that if I could afford to set up a special
-laboratory, and endow it with a staff of assistants, there would be
-some years’ work for myself and staff before I could answer them
-exhaustively, and, doubtless, the answers would suggest new questions,
-and so on _ad infinitum_. I state this in apology for the merely
-suggestive crudity of many of the ideas that I have thrown out.
-
-Before leaving the subject of peas, I must here repeat a practical
-suggestion that I published in the ‘Birmingham Journal,’ about twenty
-years ago, viz. that the water in which green peas are boiled should
-not be thrown away. It contains much of the saline constituents of the
-peas, some soluble casein, and has a fine flavour, the very essence
-of the peas. If to this, as it comes from the saucepan, be added a
-little stock, or some Liebig’s ‘Extract,’ a delicious soup is at once
-produced, requiring nothing more than ordinary seasoning. With care,
-it may form a clear soup such as just now is in fashion among the
-fastidious, but prepared however roughly, it is a very economical,
-wholesome, and appetising soup, and costs a minimum of trouble.
-
-I must here add a few words in advocacy of the further adoption in
-this country of the French practice of using as _potage_ the water in
-which vegetables generally (excepting potatoes) have been boiled.
-When we boil cabbages, turnips, carrots, &c., we dissolve out of them
-a very large proportion of their saline constituents; salts which are
-absolutely necessary for the maintenance of health; salts without which
-we become victims of gout, rheumatism, lumbago, neuralgia, gravel, and
-all the ills that human flesh with a lithic acid diathesis is heir
-to; _i.e._ about the most painful series of all its inheritances. The
-potash of these salts existing therein in combination with organic
-acids is separated from these acids by organic combustion, and is
-then and there presented to the baneful lithic acid of the blood and
-tissues, the stony torture-particles of which it converts into soluble
-lithate of potash, and thus enables them to be carried out of the
-system.
-
-I know not which of the Fathers of the Church invented fast-day and
-_soupe maigre_, but could almost suppose that he was a scientific monk,
-a profound alchemist, like Basil Valentine, who, in his seekings for
-the _aurum potabile_, the elixir of life, had learned the beneficent
-action of organic potash salts on the blood, and therefore used the
-authority of the Church to enforce their frequent use among the
-faithful.
-
-The above remarks when published in ‘Knowledge’ invoked much
-correspondence, including many inquiries for further information
-concerning the salts that should be contained in our food, and in what
-other form they might be obtained.
-
-I therefore add the following, especially as I can speak from practical
-experience of the miseries that may be escaped by understanding and
-applying it. I inherit what is called a ‘lithic acid diathesis.’ My
-father and his brothers were martyrs to rheumatic gout, and died early
-in consequence. I had a premonitory attack of gout at the age of
-twenty-five, and other warning symptoms at other times, but have kept
-the enemy at bay during forty years by simply understanding that this
-lithic acid (stony acid) combines with potash, forming thus a soluble
-salt, which is safely excreted. Otherwise it is deposited here or
-there, producing gout, rheumatism, stone, gravel, and other dreadfully
-painful diseases, which are practically incurable when the deposit is
-fairly established. By effecting the above-named combination in the
-blood the deposition is _prevented_.
-
-The potash required for the purpose exists in several conditions.
-First, in its uncombined state as caustic potash. This is poison, for
-the simple reason that it combines so vigorously with organic matter
-that it would decompose the digestive organs themselves if presented to
-them. The lower carbonate is less caustic, the bicarbonate nearly, but
-not quite, neutral. Even this, however, should not be taken as _food_,
-because it is capable of combining with the acid constituents of the
-gastric juice.
-
-The proper compounds to be used are those which correspond to the
-salts existing in the juices of vegetables and flesh, viz. compounds
-of potash with _organic_ acids, such as tartaric acid, which forms the
-potash salt of the grape; such as citric acid, with which potash is
-combined in lemons and oranges; malic acid, with which it is combined
-in apples and many other fruits; the natural acids of vegetables
-generally; lactic acid in milk, &c.
-
-All these acids, and many others of similar origin, are composed of
-carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen, held together with such feeble affinity
-that they are easily dissociated or decomposed by heat. This may be
-shown by heating some cream of tartar or tartaric acid on a strip of
-metal or glass. It will become carbonised to a cinder, like other
-organic matter. If the heat is raised sufficiently this cinder will all
-burn away to carbonic acid and water in the case of the pure acid, or
-will leave carbonate of potash if cream of tartar or other potash salt
-is thus burned.
-
-Unless I am mistaken, this represents violently what occurs gradually
-and mildly in the human body, which is in a continuous state of slow
-combustion so long as it is alive. The organic acids of the potash
-salts suffer slow combustion, give off their excess of carbonic acid
-and water to be breathed out, evaporated, and ejected, leaving behind
-their potash, which combines with the otherwise stony lithic acid just
-when and where it comes into separate existence by the organic actions
-which effect the above-described slow combustion.
-
-If we take potash in combination with a mineral acid, such as the
-sulphuric, nitric, or hydrochloric, no such decomposition is possible;
-the bonds uniting the elements of the mineral acid are too strong to
-be sundered by the mild chemistry of the living body, and the mineral
-acid, if separated from its potash base, would be most mischievous, as
-it precipitates the lithic acid in its worst form.
-
-For this reason, all free mineral acids are poisons to those who have
-a lithic acid diathesis; they may even create it where it did not
-previously exist. Hence the iniquity of cheapening the manufacture of
-lemonade, ginger-beer, &c., by using dilute sulphuric or hydrochloric
-acid as a substitute for citric or tartaric acid. I shall presently
-come to the cookery of wines, and have something to say about the
-mineral acids used in producing the choicer qualities of some very
-‘dry,’ high-priced samples which, according to my view of the subject,
-have caused the operations of lithotomy and lithotrity to be included
-among the luxuries of the rich.
-
-It should be understood that when I recommended the use of bicarbonate
-of potash for the solution of casein, all these principles were kept
-in view, including the objection to the bicarbonate itself. In the
-case of the cheese, the quantity recommended was based on an estimate
-of the quantity of lactic acid existing in the cheese and capable of
-leaving the casein to go over to the potash. In the case of the peas
-the quantity is difficult to estimate, owing to its variability. The
-more correct determination of such quantities is among the objects of
-further research to which I have before alluded.
-
-Speaking generally it is not to the laboratory of the chemist that we
-should go for our potash salts, but to the laboratory of nature, and
-more especially to that of the vegetable kingdom. They exist in the
-green parts of all vegetables. This is illustrated by the manufacture
-of commercial potash from the ashes of the twigs and leaves of timber
-trees. The more succulent the vegetable the greater the quantity of
-potash it contains, though there are some minor exceptions to this. As
-I have already stated, we extract and waste a considerable proportion
-of these salts when we boil vegetables and throw away the _potage_,
-which our wiser and more thrifty neighbours add to their every-day
-_menu_. When we eat raw vegetables, as in salads, we obtain all their
-potash.
-
-Fruits generally contain important quantities of potash salts, and
-it is upon these especially that the possible victims of lithic acid
-should rely. Lemons and grapes contain them most abundantly. Those who
-cannot afford to buy these as articles of daily food may use cream of
-tartar, which, when genuine, is the natural salt of the grape, thrown
-down in the manner I shall describe when on the subject of the cookery
-of wines.
-
-At the risk of being accused of presumption, I must here protest, as a
-chemist, against one of ‘the fallacies of the faculty,’ or of certain
-members of the faculty, viz. that of indiscriminately prohibiting to
-gouty and rheumatic patients the use of acids or anything having an
-acid taste.
-
-This has probably arisen from experience of the fact that _mineral_
-acids do serious mischief, and that alkaline carbonate of potash
-affords relief. The difference between the organic acids, which are
-decomposed in the manner I have described, and the fixed composition of
-the mineral acids, does not appear to have been sufficiently studied by
-those who prohibit fruit and vegetables on account of their acidity.
-It must never be forgotten that nearly all the organic compounds of
-potash, as they exist in vegetables and fruit, are acid. It may be
-desirable, in some cases, to add a little bicarbonate of potash to
-neutralise this excess of acid and increase the potash supply. I have
-found it advantageous to throw a half-saltspoonful of this into a
-tumbler of water containing the juice of a lemon, and have even added
-it to stewed or baked rhubarb and gooseberries. In these it froths like
-whipped cream, and diminishes the demand for sugar, an excess of which
-appears to be mischievous to those who require much potash.
-
-I must conclude this sermon on the potash text by adding that it is
-quite possible to take an excess of this solvent. Such excess is
-depressing; its action is what is called ‘lowering.’ I will not venture
-upon an explanation of the _rationale_ of this lowering, or discuss
-the question of whether or not the blood is made watery, as sometimes
-stated.
-
-Intimately connected with this part of my subject is another vegetable
-principle that I have not yet named. This is vegetable jelly, or
-_pectin_, the jelly of fruits, of turnips, carrots, parsnips, &c.
-Fremy has named it _pectose_. Like the saline juices of meat it is
-very little changed by cookery. An acid may be separated from it which
-has been named ‘pectic acid,’ the properties and artificial compounds
-of which appear to me to suggest the theory that the natural jelly of
-fruits largely consists of compounds of this acid with potash or soda
-or lime. We all know the appearance and flavour of currant jelly, apple
-jelly, &c., which are composed of natural vegetable jelly plus sugar.
-
-The separation of these jellies is an operation of cookery, and one
-that deserves more attention than it receives. I shall never forget
-the _rahat lakoum_, prepared for the Sultana, which I once had the
-privilege of eating in the kitchen of the Seraglio of Stamboul, where
-it was presented to me by his Excellency the Grand Confectioner as
-a sample of his masterpiece. Its basis was the pure pectose of many
-fruits, the inspissated juices of grapes, peaches, pine-apples, and I
-know not what others. The sherbet was similar, but liquid. Well may
-they obey the Prophet and abstain from the grosser concoctions that
-we call wine when such ambrosial nectar as this is supplied in its
-place! It is to Imperial Tokay as tokay is to table-beer! I tasted many
-other choice confections there, and when I find myself defending the
-Turk against his many enemies, my conscience sometimes asks whether my
-politics have been influenced by the remembrance of that visit.
-
-The ‘lumps of delight’ sold by our confectioners are imitations made of
-flavoured gelatin. Similar substitutes are sold in Constantinople. The
-same as regards the sherbet.
-
-I conclude this part of my subject by re-echoing Mr. Gladstone’s
-advocacy of the extension of fruit culture. We shamefully neglect the
-best of all food, in eating and drinking so little fruit. As regards
-cooked fruit, I say jam for the million, jelly for the luxurious, and
-juice for all. With these in abundance, the abolition of alcoholic
-drinks will follow as a necessary result of natural nausea.
-
-I may add that besides the letters asking for the further information
-here given, I have since received several others from readers who have
-adopted the diet above prescribed with good practical results.
-
-I have further learned that vegetarians are remarkably free from the
-lithic acid troubles above named, and that many who were sufferers
-before they became vegetarians have subsequently escaped.
-
-The testimony of a large number is demanded in such subjects, as
-individual examples may depend upon individual peculiarities of
-constitution.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[16] Shortly after the close of the Great Exhibition of 1851, when the
-South Kensington Museum was only in embryo, I had occasion to call
-on Dr. Lyon Playfair at the ‘boilers,’ and there found the Prince
-hard at work giving instructions for the arrangement and labelling of
-these analysed food products and the similarly displayed materials of
-industry, such as whalebone, ivory, &c. I then, by inquiry, learned how
-much time and labour he was devoting, not only to the general business
-of the collection, but also to its minor details.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV.
-
-COUNT RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS.
-
-
-I MUST not leave the subject of vegetable cookery without describing
-Count Rumford’s achievements in feeding the paupers, rogues, and
-vagabonds of Munich. An account of this is the more desirable, from the
-fact that the ‘soup’ which formed the basis of his dietary is still
-misunderstood in this country, for reasons that I shall presently state.
-
-After reorganising the Bavarian army, not only as regards military
-discipline, but in the feeding, clothing, education, and useful
-employment of the men, in order to make them good citizens as well
-as good soldiers, he attacked a still more difficult problem—that of
-removing from Bavaria the scandal and burden of the hordes of beggars
-and thieves which had become intolerable. He tells us that ‘the number
-of itinerant beggars of both sexes, and all ages, as well foreigners
-as natives, who strolled about the country in all directions, levying
-contributions from the industrious inhabitants, stealing and robbing,
-and leading a life of indolence and most shameless debauchery, was
-quite incredible;’ and, further, that ‘these detestable vermin swarmed
-everywhere, and not only their impudence and clamorous importunity were
-without any bounds, but they had recourse to the most diabolical acts
-and most horrid crimes in the prosecution of their infamous trade.
-Young children were stolen from their parents by these wretches,
-and their eyes put out, or their tender limbs broken and distorted,
-in order, by exposing them thus maimed, to excite the pity and
-commiseration of the public.’ He gives further particulars of their
-trading upon the misery of their own children, and their organisation
-to obtain alms by systematic intimidation. Previous attempts to cure
-the evil had failed, the public had lost all faith in further projects,
-and therefore no support was to be expected for Rumford’s scheme.
-‘Aware of this,’ he says, ‘I took my measures accordingly. To convince
-the public that the scheme was feasible, I determined first, by a great
-exertion, to carry it into complete execution, and _then_ to ask them
-to support it.’
-
-He describes the military organisation by which he distributed the
-army throughout the country districts to capture all the strolling
-provincial beggars, and how, on Jan. 1, 1790, he bagged all the beggars
-of Munich in less than an hour by means of a well-organised civil and
-military _battue_, New Year’s Day being the great festival when all
-the beggars went abroad to enforce their customary black-mail upon
-the industrious section of the population. Though very interesting, I
-must not enter upon these details, but cannot help stepping a little
-aside from my proper subject to quote his weighty words on the ethical
-principles upon which he proceeded. He says that ‘with persons of this
-description, it is easy to be conceived that precepts, admonitions, and
-punishments would be of little avail. But where precepts fail, _habits_
-may sometimes be successful. To make vicious and abandoned people
-happy, it has generally been supposed necessary, _first_, to make them
-virtuous. But why not reverse this order? Why not make them first
-_happy_ and then virtuous? If happiness and virtue be _inseparable_,
-the end will as certainly be attained by one method as by the other;
-and it is most undoubtedly much easier to contribute to the happiness
-and comfort of persons in a state of poverty and misery than, by
-admonitions and punishments, to improve their morals.’
-
-He applied these principles to his miserable material with complete
-success, and, referring to the result, exclaims, ‘Would to God that
-my success might encourage others to follow my example!’ Further
-examination of his proceedings shows that, in order to follow such
-example, a knowledge of first principles and a determination to carry
-them out in bold defiance of vulgar ignorance, general prejudice, and,
-vilest of all, polite sneering, is necessary.
-
-Having captured the beggars thus cleverly, he proceeded to carry out
-the above-stated principle by taking them to a large building already
-prepared, where ‘everything was done that could be devised to make
-them _really comfortable_.’ The first condition of such comfort, he
-maintains, is cleanliness, and his dissertation on this, though written
-so long ago, might be quoted in letters of gold by our sanitarians of
-to-day.
-
-Describing how he carried out his principles, he says of the prisoners
-thus captured: ‘Most of them had been used to living in the most
-miserable hovels, in the midst of vermin and every kind of filthiness,
-or to sleep in the streets and under the hedges, half naked and
-exposed to all the inclemencies of the seasons. A large and commodious
-building, fitted up in the neatest and most comfortable manner, was
-now provided for their reception. In this agreeable retreat they found
-spacious and elegant apartments kept with the most scrupulous neatness;
-well warmed in winter and well lighted; a good warm dinner every day,
-_gratis_, cooked and served up with all possible attention to order and
-cleanliness; materials and utensils for those that were able to work;
-masters _gratis_ for those who required instruction; the most generous
-pay, _in money_, for all the labour performed; and the kindest usage
-from every person, from the highest to the lowest, belonging to the
-establishment. Here in this asylum for the indigent and unfortunate,
-no ill-usage, no harsh language is permitted. During five years that
-the establishment has existed, not a blow has been given to anyone, not
-even to a child by his instructor.’
-
-This appears like the very expensive scheme of a benevolent utopian;
-but, to set my readers at rest on this point, I will anticipate a
-little by stating that, although at first some expense was incurred,
-all this was finally repaid, and, at the end of six years, there
-remained a net profit of 100,000 florins, ‘after expenses of every
-kind, salaries, wages, repairs, &c., had been deducted.’
-
-When will _our_ workhouses be administered with similar results?
-
-I must not dwell upon his devices for gradually inveigling the lazy
-creatures into habits of industry, for he understood human nature too
-well to adopt the gaoler’s theory, which assumes that every able-bodied
-man can do a day’s work daily, in spite of previous habits. Rumford’s
-patients became industrious ultimately, but were not made so at once.
-
-This development of industry was one of the elements of financial
-and moral success, and the next in importance was the economy of the
-commissariat, which depended on Rumford’s skilful cookery of the
-cheapest viands, rendering them digestible, nutritious, and palatable.
-Had he adopted the dietary of an English workhouse or an English
-prison, his financial success would have been impossible, and his
-patients would have been no better fed, nor better able to work.
-
-The staple food was what he calls a ‘soup,’ but I find, on following
-out his instructions for making it, that I obtain a porridge rather
-than a soup. He made many experiments, and says: ‘I constantly found
-that the richness or quality of a soup depended more upon a proper
-choice of the ingredients, and a proper management of the fire in the
-combination of these ingredients, than upon the quantity of solid
-nutritious matter employed;—much more upon the art and skill of the
-cook than upon the sum laid out in the market.’
-
-Our vegetarian friends will be interested in learning that at first he
-used meat in the soup provided for the beggars, but gradually omitted
-it, and the change was unnoticed by those who ate, and no difference
-was observable as regards its nutritive value.
-
-In 1790, little, or rather nothing, was known of the chemistry of food.
-Oxygen had been discovered only sixteen years before, and chemical
-analysis, as now understood, was an unknown art. In spite of this
-Rumford selected as the basis of his soup just that proximate element
-which we now know to be one of the most nutritious that he could have
-obtained from either the animal or vegetable kingdom—viz. _casein_.
-He not only selected this, but he combined it with those other
-constituents of food which our highest refinements of modern practical
-chemistry and physiology have proved to be exactly what are required to
-supplement the casein and constitute a complete dietary. By selecting
-the cheapest form of casein and the cheapest sources of the other
-constituents, he succeeded in supplying the beggars with good hot
-dinners daily at the cost of less than one halfpenny each. The cost of
-the mess for the Bavarian soldiers under his command was rather more,
-viz. twopence daily, three farthings of this being devoted to pure
-luxuries, such as beer, &c.
-
-Some of his chemical speculations, however, have not been confirmed.
-The composition of water had just been discovered, and he found by
-experience that a given quantity of solid food was more satisfying to
-the appetite and more effective in nutrition when made into soup by
-long boiling with water. This led him to suppose that the water itself
-was decomposed by cookery, and its elements recombined or united with
-other elements, and thus became nutritious by being converted into the
-tissues of plants and animals.
-
-Thus, speaking of the barley which formed an important constituent of
-his soup, he says: ‘It requires, it is true, a great deal of boiling;
-but when it is properly managed, it thickens a vast quantity of water,
-and, as I suppose, _prepares it for decomposition_’ (the italics are
-his own).
-
-We now know that this idea of decomposing water by such means is a
-mistake; but, in my own opinion, there is something behind it which
-still remains to be learned by modern chemists. In my endeavours to
-fathom the _rationale_ of the changes which occur in cookery, I have
-been (as my readers will remember) continually driven into hypotheses
-of hydration, _i.e._ of supposing that some of the water used in
-cookery unites to form true chemical compounds with certain of the
-constituents of the food. As already stated, when I commenced this
-subject I had no idea of its suggestiveness, of the wide field of
-research which it has opened out. One of these lines of research is
-the determination of the nature of this hydration of cooked gelatin,
-fibrin, cellulose, casein, starch, legumin, &c. That water is _with_
-them when they are cooked is evident enough, but whether that water is
-brought into actual chemical combination with them in such wise as to
-form new compounds of additional nutritive value proportionate to the
-chemical addition of water, demands so much investigation that I have
-been driven to merely theorise where I ought to have demonstrated.
-
-The fact that the living body which our food is building up and
-renewing contains about 80 per cent. of water, some of it combined, and
-some of it uncombined, has a notable bearing on the question. We may
-yet learn that hydration and dehydration have more to do with the vital
-functions than has hitherto been supposed.
-
-The following are the ingredients used by Rumford in ‘Soup No. 1’:
-
- Weight
- Avoirdupois. Cost.
- lbs. oz. £ s. d.
- 4 _viertels_ of pearl barley, equal to about 20⅓
- gallons 141 2 0 11 7½
- 4 _viertels_ of peas 131 4 0 7 3¼
- Cuttings of fine wheaten bread 69 10 0 10 2¼
- Salt 19 13 0 1 2½
- 24 _maass_, very weak beer, vinegar, or rather
- small beer turned sour, about 24 quarts 46 13 0 1 5½
- Water, about 560 quarts 1,077 0 --
- --------- ---------
- 1,485 10 1 11 9
-
- Fuel, 88 lbs. dry pine wood 0 0 2¼
- Wages of three cook maids, at 20 florins a year each 0 0 3⅔
- Daily expense of feeding the three cook maids, at 10 creutzers
- (3⅔ pence sterling) each, according to agreement 0 0 11
- Daily wages of two men servants 0 1 7¼
- Repairs of kitchen furniture (90 florins per ann.) daily 0 0 5½
- ---------
- Total daily expenses when dinner is provided for
- 1,200 persons 1 15 2⅔
-
-This amounts to 422/1200, or a trifle more than ⅓ of a penny for each
-dinner of this No. 1 soup. The cost was still further reduced by the
-use of the potato, then a novelty, concerning which Rumford makes the
-following remarks, now very curious. ‘So strong was the aversion of the
-public, particularly the poor, against them at the time when we began
-to make use of them in the public kitchen of the House of Industry in
-Munich, that we were absolutely obliged, at first, to introduce them by
-stealth. A private room in a retired corner was fitted up as a kitchen
-for cooking them; and it was necessary to disguise them, by boiling
-them down entirely, and destroying their form and texture, to prevent
-their being detected.’ The following are the ingredients of ‘Soup No.
-2,’ with potatoes:
-
- Weight
- Avoirdupois. Cost.
- lbs. oz. £ s. d.
- 2 _viertels_ of pearl barley 70 9 0 5 9-13/22
- 2 _viertels_ of peas 65 10 0 3 7⅝
- 8 _viertels_ of potatoes 230 4 0 1 9-9/11
- Cuttings of bread 69 10 0 10 2-4/11
- Salt 19 13 0 1 2½
- Vinegar 46 13 0 1 5½
- Water 982 15 --
- Fuel, servants, repairs, &c., as before 0 3 5-5/12
- -----------
- Total daily cost of 1,200 dinners 1 7 6⅔
-
-This reduces the cost to a little above one farthing per dinner.
-
-In the essay from which the above is quoted, there is another account,
-reducing all the items to what they would cost in London in November
-1795, which raises the amount to 2¾ farthings per portion for No. 1,
-and 2½ farthings for No. 2. In this estimate the expenses for fuel,
-servants, kitchen furniture, &c. are stated at three times as much as
-the cost at Munich, and the other items at the prices stated in the
-printed report of the Board of Agriculture of November 10, 1795.
-
-But since 1795 we have made great progress in the right direction.
-Bread then cost one shilling per loaf, barley and peas about 50 per
-cent. more than at present, salt is set down by Rumford at 1¼_d._
-per lb. (now about one farthing). Fuel was also dearer. But wages
-have risen greatly. As stated in money, they are about doubled (in
-purchasing power—_i.e._ real wages—they are threefold). Making all
-these allowances, charging wages at six times those paid by him, I
-find that the present cost of Rumford’s No. 1 soup would be a little
-over one halfpenny per portion, and No. 2 just about one halfpenny. I
-here assume that Rumford’s directions for the construction of kitchen
-fireplaces and economy of fuel are carried out. We are in these matters
-still a century behind his arrangements of 1790, and nothing short of a
-coal-famine will punish and cure our criminal extravagance.
-
-The cookery of the above-named ingredients is conducted as follows:
-‘The water and pearl barley first put together in the boiler and made
-to boil, the peas are then added, and the boiling is continued over a
-gentle fire about two hours; the potatoes are then added (peeled), and
-the boiling is continued for about one hour more, during which time the
-contents of the boiler are frequently stirred about with a large wooden
-spoon or ladle, in order to destroy the texture of the potatoes, and to
-reduce the soup to one uniform mass. When this is done, the vinegar and
-salt are added; and, last of all, at the moment that it is to be served
-up, the cuttings of bread.’ No. 1 is to be cooked for three hours
-without the potatoes.
-
-As already stated, I have found, in carrying out these instructions,
-that I obtain a _purée_ or porridge rather than a soup. I found
-the No. 1 to be excellent, No. 2 inferior. It was better when very
-small potatoes were used; they became more jellied, and the _purée_
-altogether had less of the granular texture of mashed potatoes. I
-found it necessary to conduct the whole of the cooking myself; the
-inveterate kitchen superstition concerning simmering and boiling, the
-belief that anything rapidly boiling is hotter than when it simmers,
-and is therefore cooking more quickly, compels the non-scientific cook
-to shorten the tedious three-hour process by boiling. This boiling
-drives the water from below, bakes the lower stratum of the porridge,
-and spoils the whole. The ordinary cook, were she ‘at the strappado,
-or all the racks in the world,’ would not keep anything barely boiling
-for three hours with no visible result. According to her positive and
-superlative experience, the mess is cooked sufficiently in one-third of
-the time, as soon as the peas are softened. She don’t, and she won’t,
-and she can’t, and she shan’t understand anything about hydration.
-‘When it’s done, it’s done, and there’s an end to it, and what more do
-you want?’ Hence the failures of the attempts to introduce Rumford’s
-porridge in our English workhouses, prisons, and soup kitchens. I find,
-when I make it myself, that it is incomparably superior and far cheaper
-than the ‘skilly’ at present provided, though the sample of skilly that
-I tasted was superior to the ordinary slop.
-
-The weight of each portion, as served to the beggars, &c., was 19·9 oz.
-(1 Bavarian pound); the solid matter contained was 6 oz. of No. 2, or
-4¾ oz. of No. 1, and Rumford states that this ‘is quite sufficient to
-make a good meal for a strong, healthy person,’ as ‘abundantly proved
-by long experience.’ He insists, again and again, upon the necessity of
-the three-hours’ cooking, and I am equally convinced of its necessity,
-though, as above explained, not on the same theoretical grounds. No
-repetition of his experience is fair unless this be attended to. I have
-no hesitation in affirming that the 4¾ oz. of No. 1, when thus boiled
-for 3 hours, will supply more nutriment than 6 oz. boiled only 1½ hour.
-
-The bread should _not_ be cooked, but added just before serving the
-soup. In reference to this he has published a very curious essay,
-entitled ‘Of the Pleasure of Eating, and of the Means that may be
-Employed for Increasing it.’
-
-Rumford used wood as fuel, and his kitchen-ranges were constructed of
-brickwork with a separate fire for each pot, the pot being set in in
-the brickwork immediately above the fireplace in such manner that the
-flame and heated products of combustion surrounded the pot on their way
-to the exit flue. The quantity of fuel was adjusted to each operation,
-and with wood embers a long sustained moderate heat was easily obtained.
-
-With coal-fires such separate firing would be troublesome, as
-coal cannot be so easily kindled on requirement as wood. With our
-roaring, wasteful kitchen furnaces and still more wasteful cooks, the
-long-sustained moderate heat is not practicable without some further
-device. I found that, by using a ‘milk scalder,’ which is a water-bath
-similar to a glue-pot, but on a large scale, I could obtain Rumford’s
-results over a common kitchen-range with very little trouble, and no
-risk of baking the bottom part of the porridge.
-
-I further found that even a longer period of stewing than he prescribes
-is desirable.
-
-I made a hearty meal on No. 1 soup, and found it as satisfactory as
-any dinner of meat, potatoes, &c., of any number of courses; and,
-as a chemist, I assert without any hesitation, that such a meal is
-demonstrably of equal or superior nutritive value to an ordinary
-Englishman’s slice of beef diluted with potatoes. The No. 2 soup is
-not so satisfactory. Rumford was wrong in his estimate of the value of
-potatoes.
-
-In the formula for Rumford’s soup it is stated that the bread
-should not be cooked, but added just before serving the soup. Like
-everything else in his practical programmes, this was prescribed with
-a philosophical reason. His reasons may have been fanciful sometimes,
-but he never acted stupidly, as the vulgar majority of mankind usually
-do when they blindly follow an established custom without knowing any
-reason for so doing, or even attempting to discover a reason.
-
-In his essay on ‘The Pleasure of Eating, and of the Means that may be
-Employed for Increasing it,’ he says: ‘The pleasure enjoyed in eating
-depends, first, on the agreeableness of the taste of the food; and,
-secondly, upon its power to affect the palate. Now, there are many
-substances extremely cheap, by which very agreeable tastes may be given
-to food, particularly when the basis or nutritive substance of the food
-is tasteless; and the effect of any kind of palatable solid food (of
-meat, for instance) upon the organs of taste may be increased, almost
-indefinitely, by reducing the size of the particles of such food, and
-causing it to act upon the palate by a larger surface. And if means be
-used to prevent its being swallowed too soon, which may easily be done
-by mixing it with some hard and tasteless substance, such as crumbs
-of bread rendered hard by toasting, or anything else of that kind, by
-which a long mastication is rendered necessary, the enjoyment of eating
-may be greatly increased and prolonged.’ He adds that ‘the idea of
-occupying a person a great while, and affording him much pleasure at
-the same time in eating a small quantity of food, may perhaps appear
-ridiculous to some; but those who consider the matter attentively
-will perceive that it is very important. It is perhaps as much so as
-anything that can employ the attention of the philosopher.’
-
-Further on he adds: ‘If a glutton can be made to gormandise two hours
-upon two ounces of meat, it is certainly much better for him than to
-give himself an indigestion by eating two pounds in the same time.’
-
-This is amusing as well as instructive; so also are his researches
-into what I may venture to describe as the _specific sapidity_ of
-different kinds of food, which he determined by diluting or intermixing
-them with insipid materials, and thereby ascertaining the amount of
-surface over which they might be spread before their particular flavour
-disappeared. He concluded that a red herring has the highest specific
-sapidity—_i.e._ the greatest amount of flavour in a given weight of any
-kind of food he had tested, and that, comparing it on the basis of cost
-for cost, its superiority is still greater.
-
-He tells us that ‘the pleasure of eating depends very much indeed upon
-the _manner_ in which the food is applied to the organs of taste,’ and
-that he considers ‘it necessary to mention, and even to illustrate in
-the clearest manner, every circumstance which appears to have influence
-in producing these important effects.’ As an example of this, I may
-quote his instructions for eating hasty pudding: ‘The pudding is then
-eaten with a spoon, each spoonful of it being dipped into the sauce
-before it is carried to the mouth, care being had in taking it up to
-begin on the outside, or near the brim of the plate, and to approach
-the centre by regular advances, in order not to demolish too soon
-the excavation which forms the reservoir for the sauce.’ His solid
-Indian-corn pudding is, in like manner, ‘to be eaten with a knife and
-fork, beginning at the circumference of the slice, and approaching
-regularly towards the centre, each piece of pudding being taken up with
-the fork and dipped into the butter, or dipped into it _in part only_,
-before it is carried to the mouth.’
-
-As a supplement to the cheap soup recipes I will quote one which
-Rumford gives as the cheapest food which in his opinion can be provided
-in England: Take of water 8 gallons, mix it with 5 lbs. of barley-meal,
-boil it to the consistency of a thick jelly. Season with salt, vinegar,
-pepper, sweet herbs, and four red herrings pounded in a mortar. Instead
-of bread, add 5 lbs. of Indian corn made into a _samp_, and stir it
-together with a ladle. Serve immediately in portions of 20 oz.
-
-_Samp_ is ‘said to have been invented by the savages of North America,
-who have no corn-mills.’ It is Indian corn deprived of its external
-coat by soaking it ten or twelve hours in a lixivium of water and wood
-ashes.[17] This coat or husk, being separated from the kernel, rises
-to the surface of the water, while the grain remains at the bottom.
-The separated kernel is stewed for about two days in a kettle of water
-placed near the fire. ‘When sufficiently cooked, the kernels will be
-found to be swelled to a great size and burst open, and this food,
-which is uncommonly sweet and nourishing, may be used in a great
-variety of ways; but the best way of using it is to mix it with milk,
-and with soups and broths as a substitute for bread.’ He prefers it to
-bread because ‘it requires more mastication, and consequently tends
-more to prolong the pleasure of eating.’
-
-The cost of this soup he estimates as follows:
-
- s. d.
- 5 lbs. barley meal, at 1½_d._ per. lb., or 5_s._ 6_d._
- per bushel 0 7½
- 5 lbs. Indian corn, at 1¼_d._ per lb. 0 6¼
- 4 red herrings 0 3
- Vinegar 0 1
- Salt 0 1
- Pepper and sweet herbs 0 2
- -----
- 1 8¾
-
-This makes 64 portions, which thus cost rather less than one-third of
-a penny each. As prices were higher then than now, it comes down to
-little more than one farthing, or one-third of a penny, as stated, when
-cost of preparation in making on a large scale is included. I have not
-been successful in making this soup; failed in the ‘samp,’ as explained
-in the foot-note. By substituting ‘raspings’ (the coarse powder rasped
-off the surface of rolls or over-baked loaves) or bread-crumbs browned
-in an oven, I obtain a fair result for those who have no objection to a
-diffused flavour of red herring.
-
-By using grated cheese instead of the herring, as well as substituting
-bread-crumbs or raspings for the Indian corn, I have completely
-succeeded; but for economy and quality combined, the No. 1 soup, as
-supplied at Munich, is preferable.
-
-The feeding of the Bavarian soldiers is stated in detail in vol. i.
-of Rumford’s ‘Essays.’ I take one characteristic example. It is from
-an official report on experiments made ‘in obedience to the orders of
-Lieut.-General Count Rumford, by Sergeant Wickelhof’s mess, in the
-first company of the first (or Elector’s Own) regiment of Grenadiers at
-Munich.’
-
-JUNE 10, 1795.—BILL OF FARE. Boiled beef, with soup and bread dumplings.
-
-DETAILS OF THE EXPENSE. First, for the boiled beef and the soup.
-
- lb. loths. Creutzers.
- 2 0 beef 16
- 0 1 sweet herbs 1
- 0 0¼ pepper 0½
- 0 6 salt 0½
- 1 14½ ammunition bread cut fine 2⅞
- 9 20 water 0
- ------------ ----
- Total 13 9¾ Cost 20⅞
-
-The Bavarian pound is a little less than 1¼ lb. avoirdupois, and is
-divided into 32 loths.
-
-All these were put into an earthenware pot and boiled for two hours and
-a quarter; then divided into twelve portions of 26-7/12 loths each,
-costing 1¾ creutzer.
-
-Second, for the bread dumpling.
-
- lb. loths. Creutzers.
- 10 13 f fine semel bread 10
- 1 0 of fine flour 4½
- 0 6 salt 0½
- 3 0 water 0
- ----- ---
- Total 5 19 Cost 15
-
-This mass was made into dumplings, which were boiled half an hour in
-clear water. Upon taking them out of the water they were found to weigh
-5 lbs. 24 loths, giving 15⅓ loths to each portion, costing 1¼ creutzer.
-
-The meat, soup, and dumplings were served all at once, in the same
-dish, and were all eaten together at dinner. Each member of the mess
-was also supplied with 10 loths of rye bread, which cost 5/16 of a
-creutzer. Also with 10 loths of the same for breakfast, another piece
-of same weight in the afternoon, and another for his supper.
-
-A detailed analysis of this is given, the sum total of which shows that
-each man received in avoirdupois weight daily:
-
- lb. oz.
- 2 2-34/100 of solids
- 1 2-84/100 of ‘prepared water’
- -------------
- 3 5-18/100 total solids and fluids.
-
-which cost 5-17/48 creutzers, or twopence sterling, very nearly. Other
-bills of fare of other messes, officially reported, give about the
-same. This is exclusive of the cost of fuel, &c., for cooking.
-
-All who are concerned in soup-kitchens or other economic dietaries
-should carefully study the details supplied in these ‘Essays’ of Count
-Rumford; they are thoroughly practical, and, although nearly a century
-old, are highly instructive at the present day. With their aid large
-basins of good, nutritious soup might be supplied at one penny per
-basin, leaving a profit for establishment expenses; and if such were
-obtainable at Billingsgate, Smithfield, Leadenhall, Covent Garden, and
-other markets in London and the provinces, where poor men are working
-at early hours on cold mornings, the dram-drinking which prevails so
-fatally in such places would be more effectually superseded than by any
-temperance missions, which are limited to mere talking. Such soup is
-incomparably better than tea or coffee. It should be included in the
-bill of fare of all the coffee-palaces and such-like establishments.
-
-Since the above appeared in ‘Knowledge,’ I have had much correspondence
-with ladies and gentlemen who are benevolently exerting themselves
-in the good work of providing cheap dinners for poor school-children
-and poor people generally. I may mention particularly the Rev. W.
-Moore Ede, Rector of Gateshead-on-Tyne, a pioneer in the ‘Penny
-Dinner’ movement, and who has published a valuable penny tract on the
-subject, ‘Cheap Food and Cheap Cookery,’ which I recommend to all his
-fellow-workers. (He supplies distribution copies at 6_d._ per 100.) His
-‘Penny Dinner Cooker,’ now commercially supplied by Messrs. Walker and
-Emley, Newcastle, overcomes the difficulties I have described in the
-slow cookery of Rumford’s soup. It is a double vessel on the glue-pot
-principle, heated by gas.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[17] Such lixivium is essentially a dilute solution of carbonate of
-potash in very crude form, not conveniently obtained by burners of pit
-coal. I tried the experiment of soaking some ordinary Indian corn in
-a solution of carbonate of potash, exceeding the ten or twelve hours
-specified by Count Rumford. The external coat was not removed even
-after two days’ soaking, but the corns were much swollen and softened.
-I suspect that this difference is due to the condition of the corn
-which is imported here. It is fully ripened, dried, and hardened, while
-that used by the Indians was probably fresh gathered, barely ripe, and
-much softer.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV.
-
-COUNT RUMFORD’S SUBSTITUTE FOR TEA AND COFFEE.
-
-
-TAKE eight parts by weight of meal (Rumford says ‘wheat or rye meal,’
-and I add, or oatmeal), and one part of butter. Melt the butter in a
-clean _iron_ frying-pan, and, when thus melted, sprinkle the meal into
-it; stir the whole briskly with a broad wooden spoon or spatula till
-the butter has disappeared and the meal is of a uniform brown colour,
-like roasted coffee, great care being taken to prevent burning on the
-bottom of the pan. About half an ounce of this roasted meal boiled in
-a pint of water, and seasoned with salt, pepper, and vinegar, forms
-‘burnt soup,’ much used by the wood-cutters of Bavaria, who work in the
-mountains far away from any habitations. Their provisions for a week
-(the time they commonly remain in the mountains) consist of a large
-loaf of rye bread (which, as it does not so soon grow dry and stale as
-wheaten bread, is always preferred to it); a linen bag, containing a
-small quantity of roasted meal, prepared as above; another small bag of
-salt, and a small wooden box containing some pounded black pepper; and
-sometimes, but not often, a small bottle of vinegar; but _black pepper_
-is an ingredient never omitted. The rye bread, which eaten alone or
-with cold water would be very hard fare, is rendered palatable and
-satisfactory, Rumford thinks also more wholesome and nutritious, by the
-help of a bowl of hot soup, so easily prepared from the roasted meal.
-He tells us that this is not only used by the wood-cutters, but that
-it is also the common breakfast of the Bavarian peasant, and adds that
-‘it is infinitely preferable, in all respects, to that most pernicious
-wash, _tea_, with which the lower classes of the inhabitants of this
-island drench their stomachs and ruin their constitutions.’ He adds
-that ‘when tea is taken with a sufficient quantity of sugar and good
-cream, and with a large quantity of bread-and-butter, or with toast
-and boiled eggs, and, above all, _when it is not drunk too hot_, it is
-certainly less unwholesome; but a simple infusion of this drug, drunk
-boiling hot, as the poor usually take it, is certainly a poison, which,
-though it is sometimes slow in its operation, never fails to produce
-fatal effects, even in the strongest constitutions, where the free use
-of it is continued for a considerable length of time.’
-
-This may appear to many a very strong condemnation of their favourite
-beverage; nevertheless, I am satisfied that it is sound; and my opinion
-is not hastily adopted, nor borrowed from Rumford, but a conclusion
-based upon many observations, extending over a long period of years,
-and confirmed by experiments made upon myself.
-
-I therefore strongly recommend this substitute, especially as so
-many of us have to submit to the beneficent domestic despotism of
-the gentler and more persevering sex, one of the common forms of
-this despotism being that of not permitting its male victim to drink
-cold water at breakfast. This burnt soup has the further advantage
-of rendering imperative the boiling of the water, a most important
-precaution against the perils of sewage contamination, not removable by
-mere filtration.
-
-The experience of every confirmed tea-drinker, when soundly
-interpreted, supplies condemnation of his beverage; the plea commonly
-urged on its behalf being, when understood, an eloquent expression of
-such condemnation. ‘It is so refreshing;’ ‘I am fit for nothing when
-tea-time comes round until I have had my tea, and then I am fit for
-anything.’ The ‘fit for nothing’ state comes on at 5 P.M., when the
-drug is taken at the orthodox time, or even in the early morning, in
-the case of those who are accustomed to have a cup of tea brought to
-their bedside before rising. Some will even plead for tea by telling
-that by its aid one can sit up all night long at brain-work without
-feeling sleepy, provided ample supplies of the infusion are taken from
-time to time.
-
-It is unquestionably true that such may be done; that the tea-drinker
-is languid and weary at tea-time, whatever be the hour, and that the
-refreshment produced by ‘the cup that cheers’ and is _said_ not to
-inebriate, is almost instantaneous.
-
-What is the true significance of these facts?
-
-The refreshment is certainly not due to nutrition, not to the
-rebuilding of any worn-out or exhausted organic tissue. The total
-quantity of material conveyed from the tea-leaves into the water is
-ridiculously too small for the performance of any such nutritive
-function; and besides this, the action is far too rapid, there is not
-sufficient time for the conversion of even that minute quantity into
-organised working tissue. The action cannot be that of a food, but
-is purely and simply that of a stimulating or irritant drug, acting
-directly and abnormally on the nervous system.
-
-The five-o’clock lassitude and craving is neither more nor less
-than the reaction induced by the habitual abnormal stimulation; or
-otherwise, and quite fairly, stated, it is the outward symptom of a
-diseased condition of brain produced by the action of a drug; it may be
-but a mild form of disease, but it is truly a disease nevertheless.
-
-The active principle which produces this result is the crystalline
-alkaloid, the _theine_,[18] a compound belonging to the same class
-as strychnine and a number of similar vegetable poisons. These, when
-diluted, act medicinally—that is, produce disturbance of normal
-functions as the tea does, and, like theine, most of them act specially
-on the nervous system; when concentrated they are dreadful poisons,
-very small doses causing death. The volatile oil, of which tea contains
-about 1 per cent., probably contributes to this effect. Johnston
-attributes the headaches and giddiness to which tea-tasters are subject
-to this oil, and also ‘the attacks of paralysis to which, after a
-few years, those who are employed in packing and unpacking chests of
-tea are found to be liable.’ As both the alkaloid and the oil are
-volatile, I suspect that they jointly contribute to these disturbances,
-the narcotic business being done by the volatile oil, the paralysis
-supplied by the alkaloid.
-
-The non-tea-drinker does not suffer any of the five-o’clock symptoms,
-and, if otherwise in sound health, remains in steady working condition
-until his day’s work is ended and the time for rest and sleep arrives.
-But the habitual victim of any kind of drug or disturber of normal
-functions acquires a diseased condition, displayed by the loss of
-vitality or other deviation from normal function, which is temporarily
-relieved by the usual dose of the drug, but only in such wise as to
-generate a renewed craving. I include in this general statement all the
-vice-drugs (to coin a general name), such as alcohol, opium, tobacco
-(whether smoked, chewed, or snuffed), arsenic, haschisch, betel-nut,
-coca-leaf, thorn-apple, Siberian fungus, maté, &c., all of which are
-excessively ‘refreshing’ to their victims, and of which the use may
-be, and has been, defended by the same arguments as those used by the
-advocates of habitual tea-drinking.
-
-Speaking generally, the reaction or residual effect of these on the
-system is nearly the opposite of that of their immediate effect, and
-thus larger and larger doses are demanded to bring the system to its
-normal condition. The non-tea-drinker or moderate drinker is kept awake
-by a cup of tea or coffee taken late at night, while the hard drinker
-of these beverages scarcely feels any effect, especially if accustomed
-to take it at that time.
-
-The practice of taking tea or coffee by students, in order to work
-at night, is downright madness, especially when preparing for an
-examination. More than half of the cases of breakdown, loss of memory,
-fainting, &c., which occur during severe examinations, and far more
-frequently than is commonly known, are due to this.
-
-I continually hear of promising students who have thus failed; and,
-on inquiry, have learned—in almost every instance—that the victim has
-previously drugged himself with tea or coffee. Sleep is the rest of the
-brain; to rob the hard-worked brain of its necessary rest is cerebral
-suicide.
-
-My old friend, the late Thomas Wright (the archæologist), was a victim
-of this terrible folly. He undertook the translation of the ‘Life of
-Julius Cæsar,’ by Napoleon III., and to do it in a cruelly short time.
-He fulfilled his contract by sitting up several nights successively by
-the aid of strong tea or coffee (I forget which). I saw him shortly
-afterwards. In a few weeks he had aged alarmingly, had become quite
-bald; his brain gave way and never recovered. There was but little
-difference between his age and mine, and but for this dreadful cerebral
-strain, rendered possible only by the stimulant (for otherwise he would
-have fallen to sleep over his work, and thereby saved his life), he
-might still be amusing and instructing thousands of readers by fresh
-volumes of popularised archæological research.
-
-I need scarcely add that all I have said above applies to coffee as to
-tea, though not so seriously _in this country_. The active alkaloid is
-the same in both, but tea contains weight for weight above twice as
-much as coffee. In this country we commonly use about 50 per cent. more
-coffee than tea to each given measure of water. On the Continent they
-use about double our quantity (this is the true secret of ‘Coffee as in
-France’), and thus produce as potent an infusion as our tea.
-
-I need scarcely add that the above remarks are exclusively applied to
-the _habitual_ use of these stimulants. As medicines, used occasionally
-and judiciously, they are invaluable, provided always that they are not
-used as ordinary beverages. In Italy, Greece, and some parts of the
-East, it is customary, when anybody feels ill with indefinite symptoms,
-to send to the druggist for a dose of tea. From what I have seen of
-its action on non-tea-drinkers, it appears to be specially potent in
-arresting the premonitory symptoms of fever, the fever headache, &c.
-
-Since the publication of the above in ‘Knowledge,’ I have been reminded
-of the high authorities who have defended the use of the alkaloids,
-and more particularly of Liebig’s theory, or the theory commonly
-attributed to Liebig, but which is Lehmann’s, published in Liebig’s
-‘Annalen,’ vol. lxxxvii., and adopted and advocated by Liebig with his
-usual ability.
-
-Lehmann watched _for some weeks_ the effects of coffee upon two persons
-in good health. He found that it retarded the waste of the tissues of
-the body, that the proportion of phosphoric acid and of urea excreted
-by the kidneys was diminished by the action of the coffee, the diet
-being in all other respects the same. Pure caffeine (which is the same
-as theine) produced a similar effect; the aromatic oil of the coffee,
-given separately, was found to exert a stimulating effect on the
-nervous system.
-
-Johnston (‘Chemistry of Common Life’) closely following Liebig, and
-referring to the researches of Lehmann, says: ‘_The waste of the body
-is lessened by the introduction of theine into the stomach—that is,
-by the use of tea._ And if the waste be lessened, the necessity for
-food to repair it will be lessened in an equal proportion. In other
-words, by the consumption of a certain quantity of tea, the health
-and strength of the body will be maintained in an equal degree upon a
-smaller quantity of ordinary food. _Tea, therefore, saves food_—stands
-to a certain extent in the place of food—while, at the same time, it
-soothes the body and enlivens the mind.’
-
-He proceeds to say that ‘in the old and infirm it serves also another
-purpose. In the life of most persons a period arrives when the stomach
-no longer digests enough of the ordinary elements of food to make
-up for the natural daily waste of the bodily substance. The size
-and weight of the body, therefore, begin to diminish more or less
-perceptibly. At this period _tea comes in as a medicine to arrest
-the waste_, to keep the body from falling away so fast, and thus to
-enable the less energetic powers of digestion still to supply as much
-as is needed to repair the wear and tear of the solid tissues.’ No
-wonder, therefore, says he, ‘_that the aged female, who has barely
-enough income to buy what are called the common necessaries of life,
-should yet spend a portion of her small gains in purchasing her ounce
-of tea. She can live quite as well on less common food when she takes
-her tea along with it_; while she feels lighter at the same time, more
-cheerful, and fitter for her work, because of the indulgence.’ (The
-italics are my own for comparison with those that follow.)
-
-All this is based upon the researches of Lehmann and others, who
-measured the work of the vital furnace by the quantity of ashes
-produced—the urea and phosphoric acid excreted. But there is also
-another method of measuring the same, that of collecting the expired
-breath and determining the quantity of carbonic acid given off by
-combustion. This method is imperfect, inasmuch as it only measures a
-portion of the carbonic acid which is given off. The skin is also a
-respiratory organ, co-operating with the lungs in evolving carbonic
-acid.
-
-Dr. Edward Smith adopted the method of measuring the respired carbonic
-acid only. His results were first published in ‘The Philosophical
-Transactions’ of 1859, and again in Chapter XXXV. of his volume on
-‘Food,’ International Scientific Series.
-
-After stating, in the latter, the details of the experiments, which
-include depth of respiration as well as amount of carbonic acid
-respired, he says: ‘Hence it was proved beyond all doubt that tea is
-a most powerful respiratory excitant. As it causes an evolution of
-carbon greatly beyond that which it supplies, it follows that it must
-powerfully promote those vital changes in food which ultimately produce
-the carbonic acid to be evolved. Instead, therefore, of supplying
-nutritive matter, it causes the assimilation and transformation of
-other foods.’
-
-Now, note the following practical conclusions, which I quote in Dr.
-Smith’s own words, but take the liberty of rendering in italics those
-passages that I wish the reader to specially compare with the preceding
-quotations from Johnston: ‘In reference to nutrition, we may say that
-_tea increases waste_, since it promotes the transformation of food
-without supplying nutriment, and increases the loss of heat without
-supplying fuel, and _it is therefore especially adapted to the wants
-of those who usually eat too much_, and after a full meal, when the
-process of assimilation should be quickened, but _is less adapted to
-the poor and ill-fed_, and during fasting.’ He tells us very positively
-that ‘to take tea before a meal is as absurd as not to take it after
-a meal, unless the system be at all times replete with nutritive
-material.’ And, again: ‘Our experiments have sufficed to show how tea
-may be _injurious if taken with deficient food, and thereby exaggerate
-the evils of the poor_;’ and, again: ‘The conclusions at which we
-arrived after our researches in 1858 were, that tea should not be taken
-without food, unless after a full meal; or with insufficient food;
-or by the young or very feeble; and that _its essential action is to
-waste the system or consume food_, by promoting vital action which it
-does not support, and they have not been disproved by any subsequent
-scientific researches.’
-
-This final assertion may be true, and to those who ‘go in for the last
-thing out,’ the latest novelty or fashion in science, literature, or
-millinery, the absence of any refutation of later date is quite enough.
-
-But how about the previous ‘scientific researches’ of Lehmann, who,
-on all such subjects, is about the highest authority that can be
-quoted. His three volumes on ‘Physiological Chemistry,’ translated
-and republished by the Cavendish Society, stand pre-eminent as the
-best-written, most condensed, and complete work on the subject, and his
-original researches constitute a lifetime’s work, not of mere random
-change-ringing among the elements of obscure and insignificant organic
-compounds, but of judiciously selected chemical work, having definite
-philosophical aims and objects.
-
-It is evident from the passages I have emphatically quoted that Dr.
-Smith flatly contradicts Lehmann, and arrives at directly contradictory
-physiological results and practical inferences.
-
-Are we, therefore, to conclude that he has blundered in his analysis,
-or that Lehmann has done so?
-
-On carefully comparing the two sets of investigations, I conclude that
-there is no necessary contradiction _in the facts_: that both may be,
-and in all probability are, quite correct as regards their chemical
-results; but that Dr. Smith has only attacked half the problem, while
-Lehmann has grasped the whole.
-
-All the popular stimulants, refreshing drugs, and ‘pick-me-ups’ have
-two distinct and opposite actions—an immediate exaltation which lasts
-for a certain period, varying with the drug and the constitution of
-its victim, and a subsequent depression proportionate to the primary
-exaltation, but, as I believe, always exceeding it either in duration
-or intensity, or both, thus giving as a nett or mean result a loss of
-vitality.
-
-Dr. Smith’s experiments only measured the carbonic acid exhaled from
-the lungs _during the first stage_, the period of exaltation. His
-experiments were extended to 50 minutes, 71 minutes, 65 minutes, and
-in one case to 1 hour and 50 minutes. It is worthy of note that, in
-Experiment 1, 100 grains of black tea were given to two persons, and
-the duration of the experiment was 50 and 71 minutes; the average
-increase was 71 and 68 cubic inches per minute, while in No. 6, with
-the same dose and the carbonic acid collected during 1 hour and 50
-minutes, the average increase per minute was only 47·5 cubic inches.
-These indicate a decline of the exaltation, and the curves on his
-diagrams show the same. His coffee results were similar.
-
-We all know that the ‘refreshing’ action of tea often extends over
-a considerable period. My own experiments on myself show that it
-continues about three or four hours, and that of beer or wine less than
-one hour (moderate doses in each case).
-
-I have tested this by walking measured distances after taking the
-stimulant and comparing with my walking powers when taking no other
-beverage than cold water. The duration of the tea stimulation has been
-also measured (painfully so) by the duration of sleeplessness when
-female seduction has led me to drink tea late in the evening. The
-duration of coffee is about one-third less than tea.
-
-Lehmann’s experiments extending over weeks (days instead of minutes),
-measured the whole effect of the alkaloid and oil of the coffee during
-both the periods of exaltation and depression, and, therefore, supplied
-a mean or total result which accords with ordinary everyday experience.
-It is well known that the pot of tea of the poor needlewoman subdues
-the natural craving for food; the habitual smoker claims the same merit
-for his pipe, and the chewer for his quid. Wonderful stories are told
-of the long abstinence of the drinkers of maté, chewers of betel-nut,
-Siberian fungus, coca-leaf, and pepper-wort, and the smokers and eaters
-of haschisch, &c. Not only is the sense of hunger allayed, but less
-food is demanded for sustaining life.
-
-It is a curious fact that similar effects should be produced, and
-similar advantages claimed, for the use of a drug which is totally
-different in its other chemical properties and relations. ‘White
-arsenic,’ or arsenious acid, is the oxide of a metal, and far as the
-poles asunder from the alkaloids, alcohols, and aromatic resins in
-chemical classification. But it does check the waste of the tissues,
-and is eaten by the Styrians and others with physiological effects
-curiously resembling those of its chemical antipodeans above named.
-Foremost among these physiological effects is that of ‘making the food
-appear to go farther.’
-
-It is strange that Liebig or any physiologist who accepts his views
-of vital chemistry, should claim this diminution of the normal waste
-and renewal of tissue as a merit, seeing that, according to Liebig,
-life itself is the product of such change, and death the result of its
-cessation. But in the eagerness that has been displayed to justify
-existing indulgences, this claim has been extensively made by men who
-ought to know better than to admit such a plea.
-
-I speak, as before, of the _habitual_ use of such drugs, not of their
-occasional medicinal use. The waste of the body may be going on with
-killing rapidity, as in fever, and then such medicines may save life,
-provided always that the body has not become ‘tolerant,’ or partially
-insensible, to them by daily usage. I once watched a dangerous case
-of typhoid fever. Acting under the instructions of skilful medical
-attendants, and aided by a clinical thermometer and a seconds watch,
-I so applied small doses of brandy at short intervals as to keep down
-both pulse and temperature within the limits of fatal combustion. The
-patient had scarcely tasted alcohol before this, and therefore it
-exerted its maximum efficacy. I was surprised at the certain response
-of both pulse and temperature to this most valuable medicine and most
-pernicious beverage.
-
-The argument that has been the most industriously urged in favour of
-all the vice-drugs, and each in its turn, is that miserable apology
-that has been made for every folly, every vice, every political abuse,
-every social crime (such as slavery, polygamy, &c.), when the time has
-arrived for reformation. I cannot condescend to seriously argue against
-it, but merely state the fact that the widely-diffused practice of
-using some kind of stimulating drug has been claimed as a sufficient
-proof of the necessity or advantage of such practice. I leave my
-readers to bestow on such a plea the treatment they may think it
-deserves. Those who believe that a rational being should have rational
-grounds for his conduct will treat this customary refuge of blind
-conservatism as I do.
-
-I recommend tea drinkers who desire to practically investigate the
-subject for themselves to repeat the experiment that I have made. After
-establishing the habit of taking tea at a particular hour, suddenly
-relinquish it altogether. The result will be more or less unpleasant,
-in some cases seriously so. My symptoms were a dull headache and
-intellectual sluggishness during the remainder of the day—and if
-compelled to do any brain-work, such as lecturing or writing, I did it
-badly. This, as I have already said, is the diseased condition induced
-by the habit. These symptoms vary with the amount of the customary
-indulgence and the temperament of the individual. A rough, lumbering,
-insensible navvy may drink a quart or two of tea, or a few gallons of
-beer, or several quarterns of gin, with but small results of any kind.
-I know an omnibus-driver who makes seven double journeys daily, and
-his ‘reglars’ are half a quartern of gin at each terminus—_i.e._ 1¾
-pints daily, exclusive of extras. This would render most men helplessly
-drunk, but he is never drunk, and drives well and safely.
-
-Assuming, then, that the experimenter has taken sufficient daily tea
-to have a sensible effect, he will suffer on leaving it off. Let him
-persevere in the discontinuance, in spite of brain languor and dull
-headache. He will find that day by day the languor will diminish, and
-in the course of time (about a fortnight or three weeks in my case)
-he will be weaned. He will retain from morning to night the full,
-free, and steady use of all his faculties; will get through his day’s
-work without any fluctuation of working ability (provided, of course,
-no other stimulant is used). Instead of his best faculties being
-dependent on a drug for their awakening, he will be in the condition
-of true manhood—_i.e._ able to do his best in any direction of effort,
-simply in reply to moral demand; able to do whatever is right and
-advantageous, because his reason shows that it is so. The sense of duty
-is to such a free man the only stimulus demanded for calling forth his
-uttermost energies.
-
-If he again returns to his habitual tea, he will again be reduced to
-more or less of dependence upon it. This condition of dependence is a
-state of disease precisely analogous to that which is induced by opium
-and other drugs that operate by temporary abnormal cerebral exaltation.
-The pleasurable sensations enjoyed by the opium-eater or smoker or
-morphia injector are more intense than those of the tea-drinker, and
-the reaction proportionally greater.
-
-I must not leave this subject without a word or two in reference to a
-widely prevailing and very mischievous fallacy. Many argue and actually
-believe that because a given drug has great efficiency in curing
-disease, it must do good if taken under ordinary conditions of health.
-
-No high authorities are demanded for the refutation of this. A little
-common sense properly used is quite sufficient. It is evident that
-a medicine, properly so-called, is something which is capable of
-producing a disturbing or alterative effect on the body generally
-or some particular organ. The skill of the physician consists in so
-applying this disturbing agency as to produce an alteration of the
-state of disease, a direct conversion of the state of disease to a
-state of health, if possible (which is rarely the case), or more
-usually the conversion of one state of disease into another of milder
-character. But, when we are in a state of sound health, any disturbance
-or alteration must be a change for the worse, must throw us out of
-health to an extent proportionate to the potency of the drug.
-
-I might illustrate this by a multitude of familiar examples, but they
-would carry me too far away from my proper subject. There is, however,
-one class of such remedies which are directly connected with the
-chemistry of cookery. I refer to the condiments that act as ‘tonics,’
-excluding common salt, which is an article of food, though often
-miscalled a condiment. Salt is food simply because it supplies the
-blood with one of its normal and necessary constituents, chloride of
-sodium, without which we cannot live. A certain quantity of it exists
-in most of our ordinary food, but not always sufficient.
-
-Cayenne pepper may be selected as a typical example of a condiment
-properly so-called. Mustard is a food and condiment combined; this is
-the case with some others. Curry powders are mixtures of very potent
-condiments with more or less of farinaceous materials, and sulphur
-compounds, which, like the oil of mustard, of onions, garlic, &c., may
-have a certain amount of special nutritive value.
-
-The mere condiment is a stimulating drug that does its work directly
-upon the inner lining of the stomach, by exciting it to increased
-and abnormal activity. A dyspeptic may obtain immediate relief by
-using cayenne pepper. Among the advertised patent medicines is a pill
-bearing the very ominous name of its compounder, the active constituent
-of which is cayenne. Great relief and temporary comfort is commonly
-obtained by using it as a ‘dinner pill.’ If thus used only as a
-temporary remedy for an acute and temporary, or exceptional, attack of
-indigestion all is well, but the cayenne, whether taken in pills or
-dusted over the food or stewed with it in curries or any otherwise,
-is one of the most cruel of slow poisons when taken _habitually_.
-Thousands of poor wretches are crawling miserably towards their graves,
-the victims of the multitude of maladies of both mind and body that are
-connected with chronic, incurable dyspepsia, all brought about by the
-habitual use of cayenne and its condimental cousins.
-
-The usual history of these victims is, that they began by over-feeding,
-took the condiment to force the stomach to do more than its healthful
-amount of work, using but a little at first. Then the stomach became
-tolerant of this little, and demanded more; then more, and more, and
-more, until at last inflammation, ulceration, torpidity, and finally
-the death of the digestive powers, accompanied with all that long
-train of miseries to which I have referred. India is their special
-fatherland. Englishmen, accustomed to an active life at home, and a
-climate demanding much fuel-food for the maintenance of animal heat,
-go to India, crammed, maybe, with Latin, but ignorant of the laws of
-health; cheap servants promote indolence, tropical heat diminishes
-respiratory oxidation, and the appetite naturally fails.
-
-Instead of understanding this failure as an admonition to take smaller
-quantities of food, or food of less nutritive and combustive value,
-such as carbohydrates instead of hydrocarbons and albumenoids, they
-regard it as a symptom of ill-health, and take curries, bitter ale, and
-other tonics or appetising condiments, which, however mischievous in
-England, are far more so there.
-
-I know several men who have lived rationally in India, and they all
-agree that the climate is especially favourable to longevity, provided
-bitter beer, and all other alcoholic drinks, all peppery condiments,
-and flesh foods are avoided. The most remarkable example of vigorous
-old age I have ever met was a retired colonel eighty-two years of age,
-who had risen from the ranks, and had been fifty-five years in India
-without furlough; drunk no alcohol during that period; was a vegetarian
-in India, though not so in his native land. I guessed his age to be
-somewhere about sixty. He was a Scotchman, and an ardent student of the
-works of both George and Dr. Andrew Combe.
-
-A correspondent inquires whether I class cocoa amongst the stimulants.
-So far as I am able to learn, it should not be so classed, but I cannot
-speak absolutely. Mere chemistry supplies no answer to this question.
-It is purely a physiological subject, to be studied by observation of
-effects. Such observations may be made by anybody whose system has not
-become ‘tolerant’ of the substance in question. My own experience of
-cocoa in all its forms is that it is not stimulating in any sensible
-degree. I have acquired no habit of using it, and yet I can enjoy a
-rich cup or bowl of cocoa or chocolate just before bed-time without
-losing any sleep. When I am occasionally betrayed into taking a late
-cup of coffee or tea, I repent it for some hours after going to bed.
-My inquiries among other people, who are not under the influence of
-that most powerful of all arguments, the logic of inclination, have
-confirmed my own experience.
-
-I should, however, add that some authorities have attributed
-exhilarating properties to the _theobromine_ or nitrogenous alkaloid
-of cocoa. Its composition nearly resembles that of theine, as the
-following (from Johnston) shows:
-
- Theine Theobromine
- Carbon 49·80 46·43
- Hydrogen 5·08 4·20
- Nitrogen 28·83 35·85
- Oxygen 16·29 13·52
- ------ ------
- 100·00 100·00
-
-It exists in the cocoa bean in about the same proportion as the theine
-in tea, but in making a cup of cocoa we use a much greater weight
-of cocoa than of tea in a cup of tea. If, therefore, the properties
-of theobromine were similar to those of theine, we should feel the
-stimulating effects much more decidedly.
-
-The alkaloid of tea and coffee in its pure state has been administered
-to animals, and found to produce paralysis, but I am not aware that
-theobromine has acted similarly.
-
-Another essential difference between cocoa and tea or coffee is that
-cocoa is, strictly speaking, a food. We do not merely make an infusion
-of the cacao bean, but eat it bodily in the form of a soup. It is
-highly nutritious, one of the most nutritious foods in common use. When
-travelling on foot in mountainous and other regions, where there was a
-risk of spending the night _al fresco_ and supperless, I have usually
-carried a cake of chocolate in my knapsack, as the most portable and
-unchangeable form of concentrated nutriment, and have found it most
-valuable. On one occasion I went astray on the Kjolenfjeld, in Norway,
-and struggled for about twenty-four hours without food or shelter. I
-had no chocolate then, and sorely repented my improvidence. Many other
-pedestrians have tried chocolate in like manner, and all I know have
-commended its great ‘staying’ properties, simply regarded as food. I
-therefore conclude that Linnæus was not without strong justification in
-giving it the name of _theobroma_ (food for the gods), but to confirm
-this practically the pure nut, the whole nut, and nothing but the nut
-(excepting the milk and sugar added by the consumer) should be used.
-Some miserable counterfeits are offered—farinaceous paste, flavoured
-with cocoa and sugar. The best sample I have been able to procure is
-the ship cocoa prepared for the Navy. This is nothing but the whole nut
-unsweetened, ground, and crushed to an impalpable paste. It requires
-a little boiling, and when milk alone is used, with due proportion of
-sugar, it is a _theobroma_. Condensed milk diluted, and without further
-sweetening, may be used.
-
-The following are the results of the analyses of two samples of cocoa
-by Payen:
-
- Cacao butter 48 50
- Albumen, fibrin, and other nitrogenous matter 21 20
- Theobromine 4 2
- Starch, with traces of sugar 11 10
- Cellulose 3 2
- Colouring matter, aromatic essence traces
- Mineral matter 3 4
- Water 10 12
- --- ---
- 100 100
-
-The very large proportion of fat shows that the Italians are right in
-their mode of using their breakfast cup of chocolate. They cut their
-roll into ‘fingers,’ and dip it in the ‘aurora’ instead of spreading
-butter on it.
-
-Vegetable food generally contains an excess of cellulose and a
-deficiency of fat; therefore cocoa, with its excess of fat and
-deficiency of cellulose, is theoretically indicated as a very desirable
-adjunct to an ordinary vegetarian dietary. The few experiments I
-have made by perpetrating the culinary heresy of adding cocoa to
-oatmeal-porridge and other _purées_, to mashed potatoes, turnips,
-carrots, boiled rice, sago, tapioca, &c., prove that vegetarians have
-much to learn in the cookery of cocoa. During two months’ sojourn in
-Milan my daily breakfast consisted of bread, grapes, and powdered
-chocolate. Each grape was bitten across, one-half eaten pure and
-simple, then the cut and pulpy face of the other half was dipped in the
-chocolate powder, and eaten with as much as adhered to it. I have never
-been better fed.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[18] Ordinary tea contains about 2 per cent. of this. It may easily
-be obtained by making a strong infusion and _slowly_ evaporating
-it to dryness, then placing this dried extract on a watch-glass or
-evaporating-dish, covering it with an inverted wineglass, tumbler, or
-conical cap of paper. A white fume rises and condenses on the cool
-cover in the form of minute colourless crystals. The tea itself may
-be used in the same manner as the dried extract, but the quantity of
-crystals will be less.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI.
-
-THE COOKERY OF WINE.
-
-
-IN an unguarded moment I promised to include the above in this work,
-and will do the best I can to fulfil the rash promise; but the utmost
-result of this effort can only be a contribution to a subject which is
-too profoundly mysterious to be fully grasped by any intellect that
-is not sufficiently clairvoyant to penetrate paving-stones, and see
-through them to the interiors of the closely-tiled cellars wherein the
-mysteries are manipulated.
-
-I will first define what I mean by the cookery of wine. Grape juice
-in its unfermented state may be described as ‘raw wine,’ or this name
-may be applied to the juice after fermentation. I apply it in the
-latter sense, and shall use it as describing grape juice which has
-been spontaneously and recently fermented without the addition of any
-foreign materials, or altered by keeping, or heating, or any other
-process beyond fermentation. All such processes and admixture which
-affect any chemical changes on the raw material I shall describe as
-cookery, and the result as cooked wine. When I refer to wine made from
-other juice than that of the grape it will be named specifically.
-
-At the outset a fallacy, very prevalent in this country, should be
-controverted. The high prices charged for the cooked material sold to
-Englishmen has led to absurdly exaggerated notions of the original
-value of wine. I am quite safe in stating that the average market value
-of rich wine in its raw state, in countries where the grape grows
-luxuriantly, and where, in consequence, the average quality of the wine
-is the best, does not exceed sixpence per gallon, or one penny per
-bottle. I speak now of the newly-made wine. Allowing another sixpence
-per gallon for barrelling and storage, the value of the commodity in
-portable form becomes twopence per bottle. I am not speaking of thin,
-poor wines, produced by a second or third pressing of the grapes, but
-of the best and richest quality, and, of course, I do not include
-the fancy wines—those produced in certain vineyards of celebrated
-châteaux—that are superstitiously venerated by those easily-deluded
-people who suppose themselves to be connoisseurs of choice wines. I
-refer to ninety-nine per cent. of the _rich_ wines that actually come
-into the market. Wines made from grapes grown in unfavourable climates
-naturally cost more in proportion to the poorness of the yield.
-
-As some of my readers may be inclined to question this estimate of
-average cost, a few illustrative facts may be named. In Sicily and
-Calabria I usually paid at the roadside or village ‘osterias’ an
-equivalent to one halfpenny for a glass or tumbler holding nearly half
-a pint of common wine, thin, but genuine. This was at the rate of less
-than one shilling per gallon, or twopence per bottle, and included the
-cost of barrelling, storage, and innkeeper’s profit on retailing. In
-the luxuriant wine-growing regions of Spain, a traveller halting at a
-railway refreshment station and buying one of the sausage sandwiches
-that there prevail, is allowed to help himself to wine to drink on
-the spot without charge, but if he fills his flask to carry away he
-is subjected to an extra charge of one halfpenny. It is well known
-to all concerned that at vintage-time of fairly good seasons, in all
-countries where the grape grows freely, a good empty cask is worth more
-than the new wine it contains when filled; that much wine is wasted
-from lack of vessels, and anybody sending two good empty casks to a
-vigneron can have one of them filled in exchange for the other. Those
-who desire further illustrations and verification should ask their
-friends—_outside of the trade_—who have travelled in Southern wine
-countries, and know the language and something more of the country than
-is to be learned by being simply transferred from one hotel to another
-under the guidance of couriers, ciceroni, valets de place, &c.
-
-Thus the five shillings paid for a bottle of rich port is made up of
-one penny for the original wine, one penny more for cost of storage,
-&c., about sixpence for duty and carriage to this country, and twopence
-for bottling, making tenpence altogether; the remaining four shillings
-and twopence is paid for cookery and wine-merchant’s profits.
-
-Under cookery I include those changes which may be obtained by simply
-exposing the wine to the action of the temperature of an ordinary
-cellar, or the higher temperature of ‘Pasteuring,’ to be presently
-described.
-
-In the youthful days of chemistry the first of these methods of cookery
-was the only one available, and wine was kept by wine-merchants with
-purely commercial intent for a considerable number of years.
-
-A little reflection will show that this simple and original cookery was
-very expensive, sufficiently so to legitimately explain the rise in
-market value from tenpence to five shillings or more per bottle.
-
-Wine-merchants require a respectable profit on the capital they invest
-in their business—at least ten per cent. per annum on the prime cost of
-the wine laid down. Then there is the rental of cellars and offices,
-the establishment expenses—such as wages, sampling, sending out,
-advertising, losses by bad debts, &c.—to be added. The capital lying
-dead in the cellar demands compound interest. At ten per cent. the
-principal doubles in about seven and one-third years. Calling it seven
-years, to allow very meagrely for establishment expenses, we get the
-following result:
-
- £ s. d.
- When 7 years old the tenpenny wine is worth 0 1 8 per bottle.
- ” 14 ” ” ” 0 3 4 ”
- ” 21 ” ” ” 0 6 8 ”
- ” 28 ” ” ” 0 13 4 ”
- ” 35 ” ” ” 1 6 8 ”
-
-Here, then, we have a fair commercial explanation of the high prices of
-old-fashioned old wines; or of what I may _now_ call the traditional
-value of wine.
-
-Of course, this is less when a man lays down his own wine in his own
-cellar, in obedience to the maxim, ‘Lay down good port in the days of
-your youth, and when you are old your friends will not forsake you.’
-He may be satisfied with a much smaller rate of interest than the
-man engaged in business fairly demands. Still, when wine thus aged
-was thrown into the market, it competed with commercially cellared
-wine, and obtained remarkable prices, especially as it has a special
-value for ‘blending’ purposes, _i.e._ for mixing with newer wines and
-infecting them with its own senility.
-
-But why do I say that _now_ such values are traditional? Simply because
-the progress of chemistry has shown us how the changes resulting from
-years of cellarage may be effected by scientific cookery in a few
-hours or days. We are indebted to Pasteur for the most legitimate—I
-might say the only legitimate—method of doing this. The process is
-accordingly called ‘Pasteuring.’ It consists in simply heating the
-wine to the temperature of 60° C. = 140° Fahr., the temperature at
-which, as will be remembered, the visible changes in the cookery of
-animal food commences. It is worthy of note that this is also the exact
-temperature at which diastase acts most powerfully in converting starch
-into dextrin. Pasteuring is a process demanding considerable skill; no
-portion of the wine during its cookery must be raised above 140°, yet
-all must reach it; nor must it be exposed to the air.
-
-The apparatus designed by Rossignol is one of the best suited for this
-purpose. It is a large metallic vat or boiler with air-tight cover and
-a false bottom, from which rises a trumpet-shaped tube through the
-middle of the vat, and passing through an air-tight fitting in the
-cover. The chamber formed by the false bottom is filled with water by
-means of this tube, the object being to prevent the wine at the lower
-part from being heated directly by the fire which is below the water
-chamber. A thermometer is also inserted air-tight in the lid, with its
-bulb half-way down the vat. To allow for expansion a tube is similarly
-fitted into the lid. This is bent syphon-like, and its lower end dipped
-into a flask containing wine or water, so that air or vapour may escape
-and bubble through, but none enter. Even in drawing off from the vat
-the wine is not allowed to flow through the air, but is conveyed by
-a pipe which bends down, and dips to the bottom of the barrel. The
-apparatus is bulky and expensive.
-
-If heated with exposure to air, the wine acquires a flavour easily
-recognised as the ‘_goût de cuit_,’ or flavour of cooking. When
-Pasteur’s method is properly conducted the only changes effected
-are those which would be otherwise produced by age. I have heard of
-many failures made by English wine-merchants in their attempts at
-Pasteuring, and am not at all surprised, seeing how secretly and
-clumsily these attempts have been made.
-
-The changes thus produced are somewhat obscure. One effect is probably
-that which more decidedly occurs in the maturing of whisky and other
-spirits distilled from grain, viz. the reduction of the proportion
-of amylic alcohol or fusel oil, which, although less abundantly
-produced in the fermentation of grape juice than in grain or potato
-spirit, is formed in varying quantities. Caproic alcohol and caprylic
-alcohol are also produced by the fermentation of grape juice or the
-‘marc’ of grapes—_i.e._ the mixture of the whole juice and the skins.
-These are acrid, ill-flavoured spirits, more conducive to headache
-than the ethylic alcohol, which is proper spirit of good wine. Every
-wine-drinker knows that the amount of headache obtainable from a given
-quantity of wine, or a given outlay of cash, varies with the sample,
-and this variation appears to be due to these supplementary alcohols or
-ethers.
-
-Another change appears to be the formation of ethers having choice
-flavours and bouquets; _œnanthic ether_, or the ether of wine, is the
-most important of these, and it is probably formed by the action of
-the natural acid salts of the wine upon its alcohol. Johnston says:
-‘So powerful is the odour of this substance, however, that few wines
-contain more than one forty-thousandth part of their bulk of it. Yet
-it is always present, can always be recognised by its smell, and is
-one of the general characteristics of all grape wines.’ This ether is
-stated to be the basis of _Hungarian wine oil_, which, according to
-the same authority, has been sold for flavouring brandy at the rate of
-sixty-nine dollars per pound. I am surprised that up to the present
-time it has not been cheaply produced in large quantities. Chemical
-problems that appear far more difficult have been practically solved.
-
-The paternal tenderness with which wine is regarded, both by its
-producers and consumers, is amusing. They speak of it as being ‘sick,’
-describe its ‘diseases,’ and their remedies as though it were a
-sentient being; and these diseases, like our own, are now attributed to
-bacilli, bacteria, or other microbia.
-
-Pasteur, who has worked out this question of the origin of diseases in
-wine as he is so well known to have done in animals, recommends (in
-papers read before the French Academy in May and August 1865), that
-these microbia be ‘killed’ by filling the bottles close up to the cork,
-which is thrust in just with sufficient firmness to allow the wine on
-expanding to force it out a little, but not entirely, thus preventing
-any air from entering the bottle. The bottles are then placed in a
-chamber heated to temperatures ranging from 45° to 100° C. (113° to
-212° Fahr.), where they remain for an hour or two. They are then set
-aside, allowed to cool, and the cork driven in. It is said that this
-treatment kills the microbia, gives to the wine an increased bouquet
-and improved colour—in fact, ages it considerably. Both old and new
-wines may be thus treated.
-
-I simply state this on the authority of Pasteur, having made no direct
-experiments or observations on these diseases, which he describes
-as resulting in acetification, ropiness, bitterness, and decay or
-decomposition.
-
-There is, however, another kind of sickness which I have studied, both
-experimentally and theoretically. I refer to the temporary sickness
-which sometimes occurs to rich wines when they are moved from one
-cellar to another, and to light wines when newly exported from their
-native climate to our own. Genuine wines are the most subject to
-such sickness;—the natural, unsophisticated wines, those that have
-not been subjected to ‘fortification,’ to ‘vinage,’ to ‘plastering,’
-‘sulphuring,’ &c.—processes of cookery to be presently described.
-
-This sickness shows itself by the wine becoming turbid, or opalescent,
-then throwing down either a crust or a loose, troublesome sediment.
-
-Those of my readers who are sufficiently interested in this subject to
-care to study it practically should make the following experiment:
-
-Dissolve in distilled water, or, better, in water slightly acidulated
-with hydrochloric acid, as much cream of tartar as will saturate it.
-This is best done by heating the water, agitating an excess of cream of
-tartar in it, then allowing the water to cool, the excess of salt to
-subside, and pouring off the clear solution. Now add to this solution,
-while quite clear and bright, a little clear brandy, whisky, or other
-spirit, and mix them by shaking. The solution will become ‘sick,’ like
-the wine. Why is this?
-
-It depends upon the fact that the bitartrate of potash, or cream of
-tartar, is soluble to some extent in water, but almost insoluble
-in alcohol. In a mixture of alcohol and water its solubility is
-intermediate—the more alcohol the smaller the quantity that can be held
-in solution (hydrochloric and most other acids, excepting tartaric,
-increase its solubility in water). Thus, if we have a saturated
-solution of this salt either in pure water or acidulated water, or
-wine, the addition of alcohol throws some of it down in solid form, and
-this makes the solution sick or turbid. When pure water or acidulated
-water is used, as in the above-described experiment, crystals of the
-salt are freely formed, and fall down readily; but with a complex
-liquid like wine, containing saccharine and mucilaginous matter, the
-precipitation takes place very slowly; the particles are excessively
-minute, become entangled with the mucilage, &c., and thus remain
-suspended for a long time, maintaining the turbidity accordingly.
-
-Now, this bitartrate of potash is the characteristic natural salt
-of the grape, and its unfermented juice is saturated with it. As
-fermentation proceeds, and the sugar of the grape-juice is converted
-into alcohol, the capacity of the juice for holding the salt in
-solution diminishes, and it is gradually thrown down. But it does not
-fall alone. It carries with it some of the colouring and extractive
-matter of the grape-juice. This precipitate, in its crude state called
-_argol_, or _roher Weinstein_, is the source from which we obtain the
-tartaric acid of commerce, the cream of tartar, and other salts of
-tartaric acid.
-
-Now let us suppose that we have a natural, unsophisticated wine.
-It is evident that it is saturated with the tartrate, since only
-so much argol was thrown down during fermentation as it was unable
-to retain. It is further evident that if such a wine has not been
-exhaustively fermented, _i.e._ if it still contains some of the
-original grape-sugar, and if any further fermentation of this sugar
-takes place, the capacity of the mixture for holding the tartrate in
-solution becomes diminished, and a further precipitation must occur.
-This precipitation will come down very slowly, will consist not merely
-of pure crystals of cream of tartar, but of minute particles carrying
-with it some colouring matter, extractives, &c., and thus spoiling the
-brilliancy of the wine, making it more or less turbid.
-
-But this is not all. Boiling water dissolves ⅙th of its weight of cream
-of tartar, cold water only 1/180th, and, at intermediate temperatures,
-intermediate quantities. Therefore, if we lower the temperature of a
-saturated solution, precipitation occurs. Hence, the sickening of wine
-due to change of cellars or change of climate, even when no further
-fermentation occurs. The lighter the wine, _i.e._ the less alcohol it
-contains naturally, the more tartrate it contains, and the greater the
-liability to this source of sickness.
-
-This, then, is the temporary sickness to which I have referred. I
-have proved the truth of this theory by filtering such sickened wine
-through laboratory filtering paper, thereby rendering it transparent,
-and obtaining on the paper all the guilty disturbing matter. I found
-it to be a kind of argol, but containing a much larger proportion of
-extractive and colouring matter, and a smaller proportion of tartrate
-than the argol of commerce. I operated upon rich new Catalan wine.
-
-This brings me at once to the source or origin of a sort of
-wine-cookery by no means so legitimate as the Pasteuring already
-described, as it frequently amounts to serious adulteration. The
-wine-merchants are here the victims of their customers, who demand
-an amount of transparency that is simply impossible as a permanent
-condition of unsophisticated grape-wine. To anybody who has any
-knowledge of the chemistry of wine, nothing can be more ludicrous
-than the antics of the pretending connoisseur of wine who holds his
-glass up to the light, shuts one eye (even at the stage before double
-vision commences), and admires the brilliancy of the liquid, this very
-brilliancy being, in nineteen samples out of twenty, the evidence of
-adulteration, cookery, or sophistication of some kind. Genuine wine
-made from pure grape-juice without chemical manipulation is a liquid
-that is never reliably clear, for the reasons above stated. Partial
-precipitation, sufficient to produce opalescence, is continually taking
-place, and therefore the unnatural brilliancy demanded is obtained by
-substituting the natural and wholesome tartrate by salts of mineral
-acids, and even by the free mineral acid itself. At one time I deemed
-this latter adulteration impossible, but have been convinced by direct
-examination of samples of _high-priced_ (mark this, not _cheap_) dry
-sherries that they contained free sulphuric and sulphurous acid.
-
-The action of this free mineral acid on the wine will be understood
-by what I have already explained concerning the solubility of the
-bitartrate of potash. This solubility is greatly increased by a little
-of such acid, and therefore the transparency of the wine is by such
-addition rendered stable, unaffected by changes of temperature.
-
-But what is the effect of such free mineral acid on the drinker of
-the wine? If he is in any degree pre-disposed to gout, rheumatism,
-stone, or any of the lithic acid diseases, his life is sacrificed,
-with preceding tortures of the most horrible kind. It has been stated,
-and probably with truth, that the late Emperor Napoleon III. drank dry
-sherry, and was a martyr of this kind. I repeat emphatically that,
-generally speaking, high-priced dry sherries are far worse than cheap
-Marsala, both as regards the quantity they contain of sulphates and
-free acid.
-
-Anybody who doubts this may convince himself by simply purchasing a
-little chloride of barium, dissolving it in distilled water, and adding
-to the sample of wine to be tested a few drops of this solution.
-
-Pure wine, containing its full supply of natural tartrate, will become
-cloudy to a small extent, and gradually. A small precipitate will be
-formed by the tartrate. The wine that contains either free sulphuric
-acid or any of its compounds will yield _immediately_ a copious white
-precipitate like chalk, but much more dense. This is sulphate of
-baryta. The experiment may be made in a common wine-glass, but better
-in a cylindrical test-tube, as, by using in this a fixed quantity in
-each experiment, a rough notion of the relative quantity of sulphate
-may be formed by the depth of the white layer after all has come down.
-To determine this _accurately_, the wine, after applying the test,
-should be filtered through proper filtering paper, and the precipitate
-and paper burnt in a platinum or porcelain crucible and then weighed;
-but this demands apparatus not always available, and some technical
-skill. The simple demonstration of the copious precipitation is
-instructive, and those of my readers who are practical chemists, but
-have not yet applied this test to such wines, will be astonished, as I
-was, at the amount of precipitation.
-
-I may add that my first experience was upon a sample of dry sherry,
-brought to me by a friend who bought his wine of a respectable
-wine-merchant, and paid a high price for it, but found that it
-disagreed with him; it contained an alarming quantity of free sulphuric
-acid. Since that I have tested scores of samples, some of the finest in
-the market, sent to me by a conscientious importer as the best he could
-obtain, and these contained sulphate of potash instead of bitartrate.
-
-My friend, the sherry-merchant, could not account for it, though he
-was most anxious to do so. This was about three years ago. By dint of
-inquiry and cross-examination of experts in the wine trade, I have,
-I believe, discovered the origin of the sulphate of potash that is
-contained in the samples that the British wine-merchant sells as he
-buys, and conscientiously believes to be pure.
-
-At first I hunted up all the information I could obtain from books
-concerning the manufacture of sherry; learned that the grapes are
-usually sprinkled with a little powdered sulphur as they are placed
-in the vats prior to stamping. The quantity thus added, however, is
-quite insufficient to account for the sulphur compounds in the samples
-of wine I examined. Another source is described in the books—that
-from sulphuring the casks. This process consists simply of burning
-sulphur inside a partially-filled or empty cask, until the exhaustion
-of free oxygen and its replacement by sulphurous acid renders further
-combustion impossible. The cask is then filled with the wine. This
-would add a little of sulphurous acid, but still not sufficient.
-
-Then comes the ‘plastering,’ or intentional addition of gypsum (plaster
-of Paris). This, if largely carried out, is sufficient to explain
-the complete conversion of the natural tartrates into sulphates of
-potash, and such plastering is admitted to be an adulteration or
-sophistication. I obtained samples of sherry from a reliable source,
-which I have no doubt the shipper honestly believed to have been
-subjected to no such deliberate plastering; still,from these came down
-an extravagantly excessive precipitate on the addition of chloride of
-barium solution.
-
-I afterwards learned that ‘Spanish earth’ was used in the fining. Why
-Spanish earth in preference to isinglass or white of egg, which are
-quite unobjectionable and very efficient? To this question I could
-get no satisfactory answer directly, but learned vaguely that the
-fining produced by the white of egg, though complete at the time, was
-not permanent, while that effected by Spanish earth, containing much
-sulphate of lime, is permanent. The brilliancy thus obtained is not
-lost by age or variations of temperature, and the dry sherries thus
-cooked are preferred by English wine-drinkers.
-
-The sulphate of potash which, by the action of sulphate of lime, is
-made to replace bitartrate, is so readily soluble that neither changes
-of temperature nor increase of alcohol, due to further fermentation,
-will throw it down; and thus the wine-maker and wine-merchant,
-without any guilty intent, and ignorant of what he is really doing,
-sophisticates the wine, alters its essential composition, and adds
-an impurity in doing what he supposes to be a mere clarification or
-removal of impurities.
-
-I have heard of genuine sherries being returned as bad to the shipper
-because they were genuine, and had been fined without sophistication.
-
-My own experience of genuine wines in wine-growing countries teaches me
-that such wines are rarely brilliant; and the variations of solubility
-of the natural salt of the grape, which I have already explained, shows
-why this is the case. If the drinkers of sherry and other white and
-golden wines would cease to demand the conventional brilliancy, they
-would soon be supplied with the genuine article, which really costs the
-wine-merchant less than the cooked product they now insist upon having.
-This foolish demand of his customers merely gives him a large amount of
-unnecessary trouble and annoyance.
-
-So far, the wine-merchant; but how about the consumer? Simply that
-the substitution of a mineral acid—the sulphuric for a vegetable acid
-(the tartaric)—supplies him with a precipitant of lithic acid in his
-own body; that is, provides him with the source of gout, rheumatism,
-gravel, stone, &c., with which _English_ wine-drinkers are proverbially
-tortured.
-
-I am the more urgent in propounding this view of the subject, because I
-see plainly that not only the patients, but too commonly their medical
-advisers, do not understand it. When I was in the midst of these
-experiments I called upon a clerical neighbour, and found him in his
-study with his foot on a pillow, and groaning with gout. A decanter of
-pale, choice, very dry sherry was on the table. He poured out a glass
-for me and another for himself. I tasted it, and then perpetrated the
-unheard-of rudeness of denouncing the wine for which my host had paid
-so high a price. He knew a little chemistry, and I accordingly went
-home forthwith, brought back some chloride of barium, added it to his
-choice sherry, and showed him a precipitate which made him shudder. He
-drank no more dry sherry, and has had no serious relapse of gout.
-
-In this case his medical adviser prohibited port and advised dry sherry.
-
-The following from ‘The Brewer, Distiller, and Wine Manufacturer,’ by
-John Gardner (Churchill’s ‘Technological Handbooks,’ 1883), supports my
-view of the position of the wine-maker and wine-merchant. ‘Dupré and
-Thudicum have shown by experiment that this practice of plastering, as
-it is called, also reduces the yield of the liquid, as a considerable
-part of the wine mechanically combines with the gypsum and is lost.’
-When an adulteration—justly so-called—is practised, the object is
-to enable the perpetrator to obtain an increased profit on selling
-the commodity at a given price. In this case an opposite result is
-obtained. The gypsum, or Spanish earth, is used in considerable
-quantity, and leaves a bulky residuum, which carries away some of the
-wine with it, and thus increases the cost to the seller of the saleable
-result.
-
-Having referred so often to dry wines, I should explain the chemistry
-of this so-called dryness. The fermentation of wine is the result
-of a vegetable growth, that of the yeast, a microscopic fungus
-(_Penicillium glaucum_). The must, or juice of the grape, obtains the
-germ spontaneously—probably from the atmosphere. Two distinct effects
-are produced by this fermentation or growth of fungus: first, the sugar
-of the must is converted into alcohol; second, more or less of the
-albuminous or nitrogenous matter of the must is consumed as food by
-the fungus. If uninterrupted, this fermentation goes on either until
-the supply of sufficient sugar is stopped, or until the supply of
-sufficient albuminous matter is stopped. The relative proportions of
-these determine which of the two shall be first exhausted.
-
-If the sugar is exhausted before the nitrogenous food of the fungus,
-a dry wine is produced; if the nitrogenous food is first consumed,
-the remaining unfermented sugar produces a sweet wine. If the sugar
-is greatly in excess, a _vin de liqueur_ is the result, such as the
-Frontignac, Lunel, Rivesaltes, &c., made from the muscat grape.
-
-The varieties of grape are very numerous. Rusby, in his ‘Visit to the
-Vineyards of Spain and France,’ gives a list of 570 varieties, and, as
-far back as 1827, Cavalow enumerated more than 1,500 different wines in
-France alone.
-
-From the above it will be understood that, _cæteris paribus_, the
-poorer the grape the drier the wine; or that a given variety of grape
-will yield a drier wine if grown where it ripens imperfectly, than if
-grown in a warmer climate. But the quantity of wine obtainable from a
-given acreage in the cooler climate is less than where the sun is more
-effective, and thus the _naturally_ dry wines cost more to produce than
-the _naturally_ sweet wines.
-
-The reader will understand, from what has already been stated
-concerning the origin of the difference between natural sweet wines and
-natural dry wines, that the conversion of either one into the other
-is not a difficult problem. Wine is a fashionable beverage in this
-country, and fashions fluctuate. These fluctuations are not accompanied
-with a corresponding variation in the chemical composition of any
-particular class of grapes, but somehow the wine produced therefrom
-obeys the laws of supply and demand. For some years past the demand for
-dry sherry has dominated in this country, though, as I am informed, the
-weathercock of fashion is now on the turn.
-
-One mode of satisfying this demand for dry wine is, of course, to make
-it from a grape which has little sugar and much albuminous matter,
-but in a given district this is not always possible. Another is to
-gather the grapes before they are fully ripened, but this involves a
-sacrifice in the yield of alcohol, and probably of flavour. Another
-method, obvious enough to the chemist, is to add as much albuminous
-or nitrogenous material as shall continue to feed the yeast fungus
-until all, or nearly all, the sugar in the grape shall be converted
-into alcohol, thus supplying strength and dryness (or salinity)
-simultaneously. Should these be excessive, the remedy is simple and
-cheap wherever water abounds. It should be noted that the quantity of
-sugar naturally contained in the ripe grape varies from 10 to 30 per
-cent.—a very large range. The quantity of alcohol varies proportionally
-when the must is fermented to dryness. According to Pavy, ‘there are
-dry sherries to be met with that are free from sugar,’ while in other
-wines the quantity of remaining sugar amounts to as much as 20 per cent.
-
-White of egg and gelatin are the most easily available and innocent
-forms of nitrogenous material that may be used for sustaining or
-renewing the fermentation of wines that are to be artificially dried.
-My inquiries in the trade lead me to conclude that this is not
-understood as well as it should be. Both white of egg and gelatin (in
-the form of isinglass or otherwise) are freely used for fining, and
-it is well enough known that wines that have been freely subjected to
-such fining keep better and become drier with age, but I have never
-yet met a wine-merchant who understood why, nor any sound explanation
-of the fact in the trade literature. When thus added to the wine
-already fermented, the effect is doubtless due to the promotion of a
-slow, secondary fermentation. The bulk of the gelatin or albumen is
-carried down with the sediment, but some remains in solution. There may
-be some doubt as to the albumen thus remaining, but none concerning
-the gelatin, which is freely soluble both in water and alcohol. The
-truly scientific mode of applying this principle would be to add the
-nitrogenous material to the must.
-
-I dwell thus upon this because, if fashion insists so imperatively
-upon dryness as to compel artificial drying, this method is the least
-objectionable, being a close imitation of natural drying, almost
-identical; while there are other methods of inducing fictitious dryness
-that are mischievous adulterations.
-
-Generally described, these consist in producing an imitation of the
-natural salinity of the dry wine by the addition of factitious salts
-and fortifying with alcohol. The sugar remains, but is disguised
-thereby. It was a wine thus treated that first brought the subject
-of the sulphates, already referred to, under my notice. It contained
-a considerable quantity of sugar, but was not perceptibly sweet. It
-was very strong and decidedly acid; contained free sulphuric acid and
-alum, which, as all who have tasted it know, gives a peculiar sense of
-dryness to the palate.
-
-The sulphuring, plastering, and use of Spanish earth increase the
-dryness of a given wine by adding mineral acid and mineral salts. In
-a paper recently read before the French Academy by L. Magnier de la
-Source (‘Comptes Rendus,’ vol. xcviii. page 110), the author states
-that ‘plastering modifies the chemical characters of the colouring
-matter of the wine, and not only does the calcium sulphate decompose
-the potassium hydrogen tartrate (cream of tartar), with formation of
-calcium tartrate, potassium sulphate, and free tartaric acid, but it
-also decomposes the neutral organic compounds of potassium which exist
-in the juice of the grape.’ I quote from abstract in ‘Journal of the
-Chemical Society’ of May 1884.
-
-In the French ‘Journal of Pharmaceutical Chemistry,’ vol. vi. pp.
-118-123 (1882), is a paper, by P. Carles, in which the chemical and
-hygienic results of plastering are discussed. His general conclusion
-is, that the use of gypsum in clearing wines ‘renders them hurtful
-as beverages;’ that the gypsum acts ‘on the potassium bitartrate in
-the juice of the grape, forming calcium tartrate, tartaric acid, and
-potassium sulphate, a large proportion of the last two bodies remaining
-in the wine.’ Unplastered wines contain about two grammes of _free
-acid_ per litre; after plastering, they contain ‘double or treble that
-amount, and even more.’
-
-A German chemist, Griessmayer, and more recently another, Kaiser, have
-also studied this subject, and arrive at similar conclusions. Kaiser
-analysed wines which were plastered by adding gypsum to the must, that
-is to the juice before fermentation, and also samples in which the
-gypsum was added to the ‘finished wine,’ _i.e._ for fining, so-called.
-He found that ‘in the finished wine, by the addition of gypsum, the
-tartaric acid is replaced by sulphuric acid, and there is a perceptible
-increase in the calcium; the other constituents remain unaltered.’
-His conclusion is that the plastering of wine should be called
-adulteration, and treated accordingly, on the ground that the article
-in question is thereby deprived of its characteristic constituents,
-and others, not normally present, are introduced. This refers more
-especially to the plastering or gypsum fining of finished wines.
-(Biedermann’s ‘Centralblatt,’ 1881, pp. 632, 633.)
-
-In the paper above named, by P. Carles, we are told that ‘owing to the
-injurious nature of the impurities of plastered wines, endeavours have
-been made to free them from these by a method called “deplastering,”
-but the remedy proves worse than the defect.’ The samples analysed by
-Carles contained barium salts, barium chloride having been used to
-remove the sulphuric acid. In some cases excess of the barium salt was
-found in the wine, and in others barium sulphate was held in suspension.
-
-Closely following the abstract of this paper, in the ‘Journal of
-the Chemical Society,’ is another from the French ‘Journal of
-Pharmaceutical Chemistry,’ vol. v. pp. 581-3, to which I now refer,
-by the way, for the instruction of claret-drinkers, who may not be
-aware of the fact that the phylloxera destroyed all the claret grapes
-in certain districts of France, without stopping the manufacture or
-diminishing the export of claret itself. In this paper, by J. Lefort,
-we are told, as a matter of course, that ‘owing to the ravages of the
-phylloxera among the vines, substitutes for grape-juice are being
-introduced for the manufacture of wines; of these, the author specially
-condemns the use of beet-root sugar, since, during its fermentation,
-besides ethyl alcohol and aldehyde, it yields propyl, butyl, and amyl
-alcohols, which have been shown by Dujardin and Audigé to act as
-poisons in very small quantities.’
-
-In connection with this subject I may add that the French Government
-carefully protects its own citizens by rigid inspection and analysis of
-the wines offered for sale to French wine-drinkers; but does not feel
-bound to expend its funds and energies in hampering commerce by severe
-examination of the wines that are exported to ‘John Bull et son Île,’
-especially as John Bull is known to have a robust constitution. Thus,
-vast quantities of brilliantly coloured liquid, flavoured with orris
-root, which would not be allowed to pass the barriers of Paris, but
-must go somewhere, is drunk in England at a cost of four times as much
-as the Frenchman pays for genuine grape-wine. The coloured concoction
-being brighter, skilfully cooked, and duly labelled to imitate the
-products of real or imaginary celebrated vineyards, is preferred by the
-English _gourmet_ to anything that can be made from simple grape-juice.
-
-I should add that a character somewhat similar to that of natural
-dryness is obtained by mixing with the grape-juice wine a secondary
-product, obtained by adding water to the _marc_ (_i.e._ the residue
-of skins, &c., that remains after pressing out the must or juice);
-a minimum of sugar is dissolved in the water, and this liquor is
-fermented. The skins and seeds contain much tannic acid or astringent
-matter, and this roughness imposes upon many wine-drinkers, provided
-the price charged for the wine thus cheapened be sufficiently high.
-
-Some years ago, while resident in Birmingham, an enterprising
-manufacturing druggist consulted me on a practical difficulty which
-he was unable to solve. He had succeeded in producing a very fine
-claret (Château Digbeth, let us call it) by duly fortifying with silent
-spirit a solution of cream of tartar, and flavouring this with a small
-quantity of orris root. Tasted in the dark it was all that could be
-desired for introducing a new industry to Birmingham; but the wine
-was white, and every colouring material that he had tried producing
-the required tint marred the flavour and bouquet of the pure Château
-Digbeth. He might have used one of the magenta dyes, but as these were
-prepared by boiling aniline over dry arsenic acid, and my Birmingham
-friend was burdened with a conscience, he refrained from thus applying
-one of the recent triumphs of chemical science.
-
-This was previous to the invasion of France by the phylloxera. During
-the early period of that visitation, French enterprise being more
-powerfully stimulated and less scrupulous than that of Birmingham, made
-use of the aniline dyes for colouring spurious claret to such an extent
-that the French Government interfered, and a special test paper named
-Œnokrine was invented by MM. Lainville and Roy, and sold in Paris for
-the purpose of detecting falsely-coloured wines.
-
-The mode of using the Œnokrine is as follows: ‘A slip of the paper is
-steeped in pure wine for about five seconds, briskly shaken, in order
-to remove excess of liquid, and then placed on a sheet of white paper
-to serve as a standard. A second slip of the test-paper is then steeped
-in the suspected wine in the same manner, and laid beside the former.
-It is asserted that 1/100,000 of magenta is sufficient to give the
-paper a violet shade, whilst a larger quantity produces a carmine red.
-With genuine red wine the colour produced is a greyish blue, which
-becomes lead-coloured on drying.’ I copy the above from the ‘Quarterly
-Journal of Science’ of April 1877. The editor adds that the inventors
-of this paper have discovered a method of removing the magenta from
-wines without injuring their quality, ‘a fact of some importance, if it
-be true that several hundred thousand hectolitres of wine sophisticated
-with magenta are in the hands of the wine-merchants’ (a hectolitre is =
-22 gallons).
-
-Another simple test that was recommended at the time was to immerse
-a small wisp of raw silk[19] in the suspected wine, keeping it there
-at a boiling heat for a few minutes. Aniline colours dye the silk
-permanently; the natural colour of the grape is easily washed out. I
-find on referring to the ‘Chemical News,’ the ‘Journal of the Chemical
-Society,’ the ‘Comptes Rendus,’ and other scientific periodicals of
-the period of the phylloxera plague, such a multitude of methods for
-testing false colouring materials that I give up in despair my original
-intention of describing them in detail. It would demand far more space
-than the subject deserves. I will, however, just name a few of the
-more harmless colouring adulterants that are stated to have been used,
-and for which special tests have been devised by French and German
-chemists:
-
-Beet-root, peach-wood, elderberries, mulberries, log-wood,
-privet-berries, litmus, ammoniacal cochineal, Fernambucca-wood,
-phytolacca, burnt sugar, extract of rhatany, bilberries; ‘jerupiga’ or
-‘geropiga,’ a compound of elder juice, brown sugar, grape juice, and
-crude Portuguese brandy’ (for choice tawny port); ‘tincture of saffron,
-turmeric, or safflower’ (for golden sherry); red poppies, mallow
-flowers, &c.
-
-Those of my readers who have done anything in practical chemistry
-are well acquainted with blue and red litmus, and the general fact
-that such vegetable colours change from blue to red when exposed to
-an acid, and return to blue when the acid is overcome by an alkali.
-The colouring matter of the grape is one of these. Mulder and Maumené
-have given it the name of _œnocyan_ or _wine-blue_, as its colour,
-when neutral, is blue; the red colour of genuine wines is due to the
-presence of tartaric and acetic acid acting upon the wine-blue. There
-are a few purple wines, their colour being due to unusual absence of
-acid. The original vintage which gave celebrity to port wine is an
-example of this.
-
-The bouquet of wine is usually described as due to the presence
-of ether, _œnanthic_ ether, which is naturally formed during the
-fermentation of grape juice, and is itself a variable mixture of other
-ethers, such as caprilic, caproic, &c. The oil of the seed of the grape
-contributes to the bouquet. The fancy values of fancy wines are largely
-due, or more properly speaking _were_ largely due, to peculiarities
-of bouquet. These peculiar wines became costly because their supply
-was limited, only a certain vineyard, in some cases of very small
-area, producing the whole crop of the fancy article. The high price
-once established, and the demand far exceeding the possibilities of
-supply from the original source, other and resembling wines are now
-sold under the name of the celebrated locality with the bouquet or _a_
-bouquet artificially introduced. It has thus come about in the ordinary
-course of business that the dearest wines of the choicest brands are
-those which are the most likely to be sophisticated. The flavouring of
-wine, the imparting of delicate bouquet, is a high art, and is costly.
-It is only upon high-priced wines that such costly operations can be
-practised. Simple ordinary grape-juice—as I have already stated—is
-so cheap when and where its quality is the highest, _i.e._ in good
-seasons and suitable climates, that adulteration with anything but
-water renders the adulterated product more costly than the genuine.
-When there is a good vintage it does not pay even to add sugar and
-water to the marc or residue, and press this a second time. It is more
-profitable to use it for making inferior brandy, or wine oil, _huile de
-marc_, or even for fodder or manure.
-
-This, however, only applies where the demand is for simple genuine
-wine, a demand almost unknown in England, where connoisseurs abound who
-pass their glasses horizontally under their noses, hold them up to the
-light to look for beeswings and absurd transparency, knowingly examine
-the brand on the cork, and otherwise offer themselves as willing dupes
-to be pecuniarily immolated on the great high altar of the holy shrine
-of costly humbug.
-
-Some years ago I was at Frankfort, on my way to the Tyrol and Venice,
-and there saw, at a few paces before me, an unquestionable Englishman,
-with an ill-slung knapsack. I spoke to him, earned his gratitude at
-once by showing him how to dispense with that knapsack abomination,
-the breast-strap. We chummed, and put up at a genuine German hostelry
-of my selection, the Gasthaus zum Schwanen. Here we supped with a
-multitude of natives, to the great amusement of my new friend, who
-had hitherto halted at hotels devised for Englishmen. The handmaiden
-served us with wine in tumblers, and we both pronounced it excellent.
-My new friend was enthusiastic; the bouquet was superior to anything
-he had ever met with before, and if it could only be fined—it was
-not by any means bright—it would be invaluable. He then took me into
-his confidence. He was in the wine trade, assisting in his father’s
-business; the ‘governor’ had told him to look out in the course of his
-travels, as there were obscure vineyards here and there producing very
-choice wines that might be contracted for at very low prices. This was
-one of them; here was good business. If I would help him to learn all
-about it, presentation cases of wine should be poured upon me for ever
-after.
-
-I accordingly asked the handmaiden, ‘Was für Wein?’ &c. Her answer
-was, ‘Apfel-Wein.’ She was frightened at my burst of laughter, and the
-young wine-merchant also imagined that he had made acquaintance with a
-lunatic, until I translated the answer, and told him that we had been
-drinking cider. We called for more, and _then_ recognised the ‘curious’
-bouquet at once.
-
-The manufacture of bouquets has made great progress of late, and they
-are much cheaper than formerly. Their chief source is coal-tar, the
-refuse from gas-works. That most easily produced is the essence of
-bitter almonds, which supplies a ‘nutty’ flavour and bouquet. Anybody
-may make it by simply adding benzol (the most volatile portion of the
-coal-tar), in small portions at a time, to warm, fuming nitric acid.
-On cooling and diluting the mixture, a yellow oil, which solidifies
-at a little above the freezing point of water, is formed. It may be
-purified by washing first with water, and then with a weak solution of
-carbonate of soda to remove the excess of acid. It is now largely used
-in cookery as essence of bitter almonds. Its old perfumery name was
-Essence of Mirbane.
-
-By more elaborate operations on the coal-tar product, a number of other
-essences and bouquets of curiously imitative character are produced.
-One of the most familiar of these is the essence of jargonelle pears,
-which flavours the ‘pear drops’ of the confectioner so cunningly;
-another is raspberry flavour, by the aid of which a mixture of
-fig-seeds and apple-pulp, duly coloured, may be converted into a
-raspberry jam that would deceive our Prime Minister. I do not say that
-it now is so used (though I believe it has been), for the simple reason
-that wholesale jam-makers now grow their own fruit so cheaply that the
-genuine article costs no more than the sham. Raspberries can be grown
-and gathered at a cost of about twopence per pound.
-
-With wine at 60_s._ to 100_s._ per dozen the case is different. The
-price leaves an ample margin for the conversion of ‘Italian reds,’
-Catalans, and other sound ordinary wines into any fancy brands that
-may happen to be in fashion. Such being the case, the mere fact that
-certain emperors or potentates have bought up the whole produce of the
-château that is named on the labels does not interfere with the market
-supply, which is strictly regulated by the demand.[20]
-
-Visiting a friend in the trade, he offered me a glass of the wine that
-he drank himself when at home, and supplied to his own family. He asked
-my opinion of it. I replied that I thought it was genuine grape-juice,
-resembling that which I had been accustomed to drink at country inns in
-the Côte d’Or (Burgundy) and in Italy. He told me that he imported it
-directly from a district near to that I first named, and could supply
-it at 12_s._ per dozen with a fair profit. Afterwards, when calling at
-his place of business in the West-end, he told me that one of his best
-customers had just been tasting the various samples of dinner claret
-then remaining on the table, some of them expensive, and that he had
-chosen the same as I had, but what was my friend to do? Had he quoted
-12_s._ per dozen, he would have lost one of his best customers, and
-sacrificed his reputation as a high-class wine-merchant; therefore he
-quoted 54_s._, and both buyer and seller were perfectly satisfied: the
-wine-merchant made a large profit, and the customer obtained what he
-demanded—a good wine at a ‘respectable price.’ He could not insult his
-friends by putting cheap 12_s._ trash on _his_ table.
-
-Here arises an ethical question. Was the wine-merchant justified in
-making this charge under the circumstances; or, otherwise stated,
-who was to blame for the crookedness of the transaction? I say the
-customer; my verdict is, ‘Sarve him right!’
-
-In reference to wines, and still more to cigars, and some other useless
-luxuries, the typical Englishman is a victim to a prevalent commercial
-superstition. He blindly assumes that price must necessarily represent
-quality, and therefore shuts his eyes and opens his mouth to swallow
-anything with complete satisfaction, provided that he pays a good
-price for it at a respectable establishment, _i.e._ one where only
-high-priced articles are sold.
-
-If any reader thinks I speak too strongly, let him ascertain the market
-price per lb. of the best Havanna tobacco leaves where they are grown,
-also the cost of twisting them into cigar shape (a skilful workwoman
-can make a thousand in a day), then add to the sum of these the cost of
-packing, carriage, and duty. He will be rather astonished at the result
-of this arithmetical problem.
-
-If these things were necessaries of life, or contributed in any degree
-or manner to human welfare, I should protest indignantly; but seeing
-what they are and what they do, I rather rejoice at the limitation of
-consumption effected by their fancy prices.
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[19] In repeating these experiments I find that the best form of silk
-is that which the Coventry dyers technically call ‘boiled silk,’ _i.e._
-raw silk boiled in potash to remove its resinous varnish. In this state
-the aniline dyes attach themselves to the fibre very readily and firmly.
-
-[20] The following is from _Knowledge_ of August 15, 1884. It is
-editorial, not mine, though I have heard these ‘Spirit Flavours’ spoken
-of by experts as ordinary merchandise. The Hungarian wine oil is one of
-them: ‘I have just obtained what is expressively known as “a wrinkle”
-from a wholesale price-list of a distiller which has fallen (no matter
-how) into my hands. That it was never intended to be seen by any
-mortal eyes outside of “the trade” goes without saying. In this highly
-instructive document I find, under the head of “Spirit Flavours,”
-“the attention of consumers in Australia and India” (we needn’t say
-anything about England) “is particularly called to these very useful
-and excellent flavours. One pound of either of these essences to
-fifty gallons of plain spirit” (let us suppose potato spirit) “will
-make immediately a fine brandy or old tom, &c., without the use of a
-still.—See _Lancet_ report.” This is followed by a list of prices of
-these “flavours,” and then follows a similar one of “Wine Aromas.”
-A cheerful look-out all this presents, upon my word! The confiding
-traveller calls at his inn for some old brandy, and they make it in
-the bar while he is waiting. He orders a pint of claret or port, and
-straightway he is served with some that has been two and a half minutes
-in bottle! After the perusal of this price-list, I have come to the
-conclusion that in the case of no articles of consumption whatever is
-the motto _Caveat emptor_ more needful to be attended to than in that
-of (so called) wines and spirits.’
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII.
-
-THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION
-
-
-IN my introductory chapter I said, ‘The fact that we use the digestive
-and nutrient apparatus of sheep, oxen, &c., for the preparation of our
-food is merely a transitory barbarism, to be ultimately superseded when
-my present subject is sufficiently understood and applied to enable us
-to prepare the constituents of the vegetable kingdom to be as easily
-assimilated as the prepared grass which we call beef and mutton.’
-
-This sentence, when it appeared in ‘Knowledge,’ brought me in
-communication with a very earnest body of men and women, who at
-considerable social inconvenience are abstaining from flesh food,
-and doing it purely on principle. Some people sneer at them, call
-them ‘crotchetty,’ ‘faddy,’ &c., but, for my own part, I have a great
-respect for crotchetty people, having learned long ago that every first
-great step that has ever been taken in the path of human progress was
-denounced as a crotchet by those it was leaving behind. This respect is
-quite apart from the consideration of whether I agree or disagree with
-the crotchets themselves.
-
-I therefore willingly respond to the request that I should explain more
-fully my view of this subject. The fact that there are now in London
-eight exclusively vegetarian restaurants, and all of them flourishing,
-shows that it is one of wide interest.
-
-At the outset it is necessary to brush aside certain false issues that
-are commonly raised in discussing this subject. The question is not
-whether we are herbivorous or carnivorous animals. It is perfectly
-certain that we are neither. The carnivora feed on flesh _alone_,
-and eat that flesh raw. Nobody proposes that we should do this. The
-herbivora eat raw grass. Nobody suggests that we should follow _their_
-example.
-
-It is perfectly clear that man cannot be classed with the carnivorous
-animals, nor the herbivorous animals, nor with the graminivorous
-animals. His teeth are not constructed for munching and grinding raw
-grain, nor his digestive organs for assimilating such grain in this
-condition.
-
-He is not even to be classed with the omnivorous animals. He stands
-apart from all as THE COOKING ANIMAL.
-
-It is true that there was a time when our ancestors ate raw flesh,
-including that of each other.
-
-In the limestone caverns of this and other European countries we find
-human bones gnawed by human teeth, and split open by flint implements
-for the evident purpose of extracting the marrow, according to the
-domestic economy of the period.
-
-The shell mounds that these prehistoric bipeds have left behind, show
-that mussels, oysters, and other mollusca were also eaten raw, and
-they doubtless varied the menu with snails, slugs, and worms, as the
-remaining Australian savages still do. Besides these they probably
-included roots, succulent plants, nuts, and such fruit as then existed.
-
-There are many among us who are very proud of their ancient lineage,
-and who think it honourable to go back as far as possible and to
-maintain the customs of their forefathers; but they all seem to
-draw a line somewhere, none desiring to go as far back as to their
-inter-glacial troglodytic ancestors, and, therefore, I need not discuss
-the desirability of restoring their dietary.
-
-All human beings became cooks as soon as they learned how to make a
-fire, and have all continued to be cooks ever since.
-
-We should, therefore, look at this vegetarian question from the
-point of view of prepared food, which excludes nearly all comparison
-with the food of the brute creation. I say ‘nearly all,’ because
-there is one case in which all the animals that approach the nearest
-to ourselves—the mammalia—are provided naturally with a specially
-prepared food, viz. the mother’s milk. The composition of this
-preparation appears to me to throw more light than anything else upon
-this vegetarian controversy, and yet it seems to have been entirely
-overlooked.
-
-The milk prepared for the young of the different animals in the
-laboratory or kitchen of Nature is surely adapted to their structure
-as regards natural food requirements. Without assuming that the human
-dietetic requirements are identical with either of the other mammals,
-we may learn something concerning our approximation to one class or
-another by comparing the composition of human milk with that of the
-animals in question.
-
-I find ready to hand in Dr. Miller’s ‘Chemistry’, vol. iii., a
-comparative statement of the mean of several analyses of the milk of
-woman, cow, goat, ass, sheep, and bitch. The latter is a moderately
-carnivorous animal, nearly approaching the omnivorous character
-commonly ascribed to man. The following is the statement:
-
- +------------------------+-----+------+------+------+-------+-------+
- | |Woman| Cow | Goat | Ass | Sheep | Bitch |
- +------------------------+-----+------+------+------+-------+-------+
- | Water | 88·6| 87·4 | 82·0 | 90·5 | 85·6 | 66·3 |
- | Fat | 2·6| 4·0 | 4·5 | 1·4 | 4·5 | 14·8 |
- | Sugar and soluble salts| 4·9| 5·0 | 4·5 | 6·4 | 4·2 | 2·9 |
- | Nitrogenous compounds | | | | | | |
- | and insoluble salts | 3·9| 3·6 | 9·0 | 1·7 | 5·7 | 16·0 |
- +------------------------+-----+------+------+------+-------+-------+
-
-According to this it is quite evident that Nature regards our food
-requirements as approaching much nearer to the herbivora than to the
-carnivora, and has provided for us accordingly.
-
-If we are to begin the building-up of our bodies on a food more nearly
-resembling that of the herbivora than that of the carnivora, it is only
-reasonable to assume that we should continue on the same principle.
-
-The particulars of the difference are instructive. The food which
-Nature provides for the human infant differs from that provided for the
-young carnivorous animal, just in the same way as flesh food differs
-from the cultivated and cooked vegetables and fruit within easy reach
-of man.
-
-These contain less fat, less nitrogenous matter, more water, and more
-sugar (or starch, which becomes sugar during digestion) than animal
-food.
-
-Those who advocate the use of flesh food usually do so on the ground
-that it is more nutritious, contains more nitrogenous material and more
-fat than vegetable food. So much the worse for the human being, says
-Nature, when _she_ prepares the food.
-
-But as a matter of practical fact there are no flesh-eaters among us,
-none who avail themselves of this higher proportion of albuminoids and
-fat. We all practically admit every day in eating our ordinary English
-dinner, that this excess of nitrogenous matter and fat is bad; we do
-so by mixing the meat with that particular vegetable which contains
-an excess of the carbo-hydrates (starch) with the smallest available
-quantity of albuminoids and fat. The slice of meat, diluted with the
-lump of potato, brings the whole down to about the average composition
-of a fairly-arranged vegetarian repast. When I speak of a vegetarian
-repast, I do not mean mere cabbages and potatoes, but properly
-selected, well cooked, nutritious vegetable food. As an example, I
-will take Count Rumford’s No. 1 soup, already described, without the
-bread, and in like manner take beef and potatoes without bread. Taking
-original weights, and assuming that the lump of potato weighed the same
-as the slice of meat, we get the following composition according to the
-table given by Pavy, page 410:
-
- +----------------+-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- | | Water | Albumen | Starch | Sugar | Fat | Salts |
- | +-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- | Lean beef | 72·00 | 19·30 | -- | -- | 3·60 | 5·10 |
- | Potatoes | 75·00 | 2·10 | 18·80 | 3·20 | 0·20 | 0·70 |
- | +-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- | |147·00 | 21·40 | 18·80 | 3·20 | 3·80 | 5·80 |
- | +-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- |Mean composition| | | | | | |
- | of mixture | 73·50 | 10·70 | 9·40 | 1·60 | 1·90 | 2·90 |
- +----------------+-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
-
-Rumford’s soup (without the bread afterwards added) was composed
-of equal measures of peas and pearl barley, or barley meal, and
-nearly equal weights. Their percentage composition as stated in the
-above-named table is as follows:
-
- +----------------+-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- | | Water | Albumen | Starch | Sugar | Fat | Salts |
- | +-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- | Peas | 15·00 | 23·00 | 55·40 | 2·00 | 2·10 | 2·50 |
- | Barley meal | 15·00 | 6·30 | 69·40 | 4·90 | 2·40 | 2·00 |
- | +-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- | | 30·00 | 29·30 | 134·80 | 6·90 | 4·50 | 4·50 |
- | +-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
- |Mean composition| | | | | | |
- | of mixture | 15·00 | 14·65 | 62·40 | 3·45 | 2·25 | 2·25 |
- +----------------+-------+---------+--------+-------+------+-------+
-
-Here, then, in 100 parts of the material of Rumford’s halfpenny dinner,
-as compared with the ‘mixed diet,’ we have 40 per cent. more of
-nitrogenous food, more than six and a half times as much carbo-hydrate
-in the form of starch, more than double the quantity of sugar, about
-17 per cent. more of fat, and only a little less of salts (supplied by
-the salt which Rumford added). Thus the ‘mixed diet’ falls short in all
-the costly constituents, and only excels by its abundance of very cheap
-water.
-
-This analysis supplies the explanation of what has puzzled many
-inquirers, and encouraged some sneerers at this work of the great
-scientific philanthropist, viz. that he allowed less than five ounces
-of solids for each man’s dinner. He did so and found it sufficient,
-because he was supplying far more nutritious material than beef and
-potatoes; his five ounces was more satisfactory than a pound of beef
-and potatoes, three-fourths of which is water, for which water John
-Bull blindly pays a shilling or more per pound when he buys his prime
-steak.
-
-Rumford added the water at pump cost, and, by long boiling, caused
-some of it to unite with the solid materials (by the hydration I have
-described), and then served the combination in the form of porridge,
-raising each portion to 19¾ ounces.
-
-I might multiply such examples to prove the fallacy of the prevailing
-notions concerning the nutritive value of the ‘mixed diet,’ a fallacy
-which is merely an inherited epidemic, a baseless physical superstition.
-
-I will, however, just add one more example for comparison—viz. the
-Highlander’s porridge. The following is the composition of oatmeal—also
-from Pavy’s table:
-
- Water 15·00
- Albumen 12·60
- Starch 58·40
- Sugar 5·40
- Fat 5·60
- Salts 3·00
-
-Compare this with the beef and potatoes above, and it will be seen that
-it is _superior in every item excepting the water_. One hundred ounces
-of oatmeal contain 1·9 ounce more of albumen than is contained in 100
-ounces of beef and potatoes mixed in equal proportions. The 100 ounces
-of oatmeal supplies 39·6 ounces more of carbo-hydrate (starch). The 100
-ounces of oatmeal is superior to the extent of 3·8 ounces in sugar. It
-has the advantage by 3·7 ounces in fat, and 0·9 ounce in salts, but
-the mixed diet beats the oatmeal by containing 58½ ounces more water;
-nearly four times as much. This deficiency is readily supplied in the
-cookery.
-
-These figures explain a puzzle that may have suggested itself to some
-of my thoughtful readers—viz. the smallness of the quantity of dry
-oatmeal that is used in making a large portion of porridge. If we
-could, in like manner, see our portion of beef or mutton and potatoes
-reduced to dryness, the smallness of the quantity of actually solid
-food required for a meal would be similarly manifest. An alderman’s
-banquet in this condition would barely fill a breakfast cup.
-
-I cannot at all agree with those of my vegetarian friends who denounce
-flesh-meat as a prolific source of disease, as inflaming the passions,
-and generally demoralising. Neither am I at all disposed to make a
-religion of either eating, or drinking, or abstaining. There are
-certain albuminoids, certain carbo-hydrates, certain hydro-carbons,
-and certain salts demanded for our sustenance. Excepting in fruit,
-these are not supplied by nature in a fit condition for _our_ use. They
-must be prepared. Whether we do _all_ the preparation in the kitchen
-by bringing the produce of the earth directly there, or whether, on
-account of our ignorance and incapacity as cooks, we pass our food
-through the stomach, intestines, blood-vessels, &c., of sheep and
-oxen, as a substitute for the first stages of scientific cookery, the
-result is about the same as regards the dietic result.
-
-Flesh feeding is a nasty practice, but I see no grounds for denouncing
-it as physiologically injurious, excepting in the fact that the
-liability to gout, rheumatism, and neuralgia is increased by it.
-
-In my youthful days I was on friendly terms with a sheep that belonged
-to a butcher in Jermyn Street. This animal, for some reason, had been
-spared in its lamb-hood, and was reared as the butcher’s pet. It was
-well-known in St. James’s by following the butcher’s men through the
-streets like a dog. I have seen this sheep steal mutton-chops and
-devour them raw. It preferred beef or mutton to grass. It enjoyed
-robust health, and was by no means ferocious.
-
-It was merely a disgusting animal, with excessively perverted appetite;
-a perversion that supplies very suggestive material for human
-meditation.
-
-My own experiments on myself, and the multitude of other experiments
-that I am daily witnessing among men of all occupations who have cast
-aside flesh food after many years of mixed diet, prove incontestably
-that flesh food is quite unnecessary; and also that men and women who
-emulate the aforesaid sheep to the mild extent of consuming daily
-about two ounces of animal tissue combined with six ounces of water,
-and dilute this with such weak vegetable food as the potato, are not
-measurably altered thereby so far as physical health is concerned.[21]
-
-On economical grounds, however, the difference is enormous. If all
-Englishmen were vegetarians and fish-eaters, the whole aspect of the
-country would be changed. It would be a land of gardens and orchards,
-instead of gradually reverting to prairie grazing-ground as at present.
-The unemployed miserables of our great towns, the inhabitants of our
-union workhouses, and all our rogues and vagabonds, would find ample
-and suitable employment in agriculture. Every acre of land would
-require three or four times as much labour as at present, and feed five
-or six times as many people.
-
-No sentimental exaggeration is demanded for the recommendation of such
-a reform as this.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[21] Since the above was written I have met with some alarming
-revelations concerning the increasing prevalence of cancer, which, if
-confirmed, will force me to withdraw this conclusion. This horrible
-disease has increased in England with increase of prosperity—with
-increase of luxury in feeding—which in this country means more flesh
-food. In the ten years from 1850 to 1860, the deaths from cancer had
-increased by 2,000; from 1860 to 1870 the increase was 2,400; from 1870
-to 1880 it reached 3,200, above the preceding ten years. The proportion
-of deaths is far higher among the well-to-do classes than among the
-poorer classes. It seems to be the one disease that increases with
-improved general sanitary conditions. The evidence is not yet complete,
-but as far as it goes it points most ominously to a direct connection
-between cancer and excessive flesh feeding among people of sedentary
-habits. The most abundant victims appear to be women who eat much meat
-and take but little out-of-door exercise.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII.
-
-MALTED FOOD.
-
-
-A FEW years ago the ‘farmers’ friends’ were very sanguine on the
-subject of using malt as cattle food. At agricultural meetings
-throughout the country the iniquitous malt-tax was eloquently denounced
-because it stood in the way of this great fodder reform. Then the
-malt-tax was repealed, and forthwith the subject fell out of hearing.
-Why was this?
-
-The idea of malt feeding was theoretically sound. By the malting of
-barley or other grain its diastase is made to act upon its insoluble
-starch, and to convert this more or less completely into soluble
-dextrin, a change which is absolutely necessary as a part of the
-business of digestion. Therefore, if you feed cattle on malted grain
-instead of raw grain, you supply them with a food so prepared that a
-part of the business of digestion is already done for them, and their
-nutrition is thereby advanced.
-
-From what I am able to learn, the reason why this hopeful theory has
-not been carried out is simply that it does not ‘pay.’ The advantage in
-fattening the cattle is not sufficient to remunerate the farmers for
-the extra cost of the malted food.
-
-This may be the case with oxen, but it does not follow that it should
-be the same with human beings. Cattle feed on grass, mangold-wurzels,
-&c., in their raw state, but we cannot; and, as I have already shown,
-we are not graminivorous in the manner they are; we cannot digest raw
-wheat, barley, oats, or maize.
-
-We cannot do this because we are not supplied with such effective
-natural grinding apparatus as they have in their mouths, and, further,
-because we have a much smaller supply of saliva and a shorter
-alimentary canal.
-
-We can easily supply our natural deficiencies in the matter of
-grinding, and do so by means of our flour mills, but at first thought
-the idea of finding an artificial representative of the saliva of oxen
-does not recommend itself. When, however, it is understood that the
-chief active principle of the saliva so closely resembles the diastase
-of malt that it has received the name of ‘animal diastase,’ and is
-probably the same compound, the aspect of the problem changes.
-
-Not only is this the case with the secretion from the glands
-surrounding the mouth, but the pancreas which is concerned in a later
-stage of digestion is a gland so similar to the salivary glands that
-in ordinary cookery both are dressed and served as ‘sweetbreads;’ the
-‘pancreatic juice’ is a liquid closely resembling saliva, and contains
-a similar diastase, or substance that converts starch into dextrin, and
-from dextrin to sugar. Lehmann says, ‘It is now indubitably established
-that the pancreatic juice possesses this sugar-forming power in a far
-higher degree than the saliva.’
-
-Besides this, there is another sugar-forming secretion, the ‘intestinal
-juice,’ which operates on the starch of the food as it passes along the
-intestinal canal.
-
-This being the case, we should, in exercising our privilege as cooking
-animals, be able to assist the digestive functions of the saliva, the
-pancreatic and intestinal secretions, just as we help our teeth by the
-flour mill, and the means of doing this is offered by the diastase of
-malt.
-
-In accordance with this reasoning I have made some experiments on
-a variety of our common vegetable foods, by simply raising them—in
-contact with water—to the temperature most favourable to the converting
-action of diastase (140° to 150° Fahrenheit), and then adding a little
-malt extract or malt flour.
-
-This extract may be purchased ready made, or prepared by soaking
-crushed or ground malt in warm water, leaving it for an hour or two or
-longer, and then pressing out the liquid.
-
-I find that oatmeal-porridge when thus treated is thinned by the
-conversion of the bulk of its insoluble starch into soluble dextrin;
-that boiled rice is similarly thinned; that a stiff jelly of arrowroot
-is at once rendered watery, and its conversion into dextrin is
-demonstrated by its altered action when a solution of iodine is added
-to it. It no longer becomes suddenly of a deep blue colour as when it
-was starch.
-
-Sago and tapioca are similarly changed, but not so completely as
-arrowroot. This is evidently because they contain a little nitrogenous
-matter and cellulose, which, when stirred, give a milkiness to the
-otherwise clear and limpid solution of dextrin.
-
-Pease-pudding when thus treated behaves very instructively. Instead of
-remaining as a fairly uniform paste, it partially separates into paste
-and clear liquid, the paste being the cellulose and vegetable casein,
-the liquid a solution of the dextrin or converted starch.
-
-Mashed turnips, carrots, potatoes, &c., behave similarly, the general
-results showing that so far as starch is concerned there is no
-practical difficulty in obtaining a conversion of the starch into
-dextrin by means of a very small quantity of maltose.
-
-Hasty pudding made of boiled flour is similarly altered. Generally
-speaking, the degree of visible alteration is proportionate to the
-amount of starch, but the more intimately it is mixed with the
-cellulose, the more slowly the change occurs.
-
-I have made malt-porridge by using malt flour instead of oatmeal. I
-found it rather too sweet, but on mixing about one part of malt flour
-with four to eight parts of oatmeal, an excellent and easily digestible
-porridge is obtained, and one which I strongly recommend as a most
-valuable food for strong people and invalids, children and adults.
-
-Further details of these experiments would be tedious, and are not
-necessary, as they display no chemical changes that are new to science,
-and the practical results may be briefly stated without such details,
-as follows.
-
-I recommend, first, the production of malt flour by grinding and
-sifting malted wheat, malted barley, or malted oats, or all of these,
-and the retailing of this at its fair value as a staple article of
-food. Every shopkeeper who sells flour or meal of any kind should sell
-this.
-
-Secondly, that this malted flour, or the extract made from it as above
-described, be mixed with the ordinary flour used in making pastry,
-biscuits, bread, &c.,[22] and with all kinds of porridge, pastry,
-pea-soup, and other farinaceous preparations, and that when these are
- cooked they should be
-slowly heated at first, in order that the maltose may act upon the
-starch at its most favourable temperature (140° to 150° Fahr.).
-
-Thirdly, when practicable, such preparations as porridge, pea-soup,
-pastry, &c., should be prepared by first cooking them in the usual
-manner, then stirring the malt meal or malt extract into them, and
-allowing the mixture to remain for some time. This time may vary
-from a few minutes to several hours or days—the longer the better.
-I have proved by experiments on boiled rice, oatmeal-porridge,
-pease-pudding, &c., that complete conversion may thus be effected. When
-the temperature of 140° to 150° is carefully obtained, the work of
-conversion is done in half an hour or less. At 212° it is arrested. At
-temperatures below 140°, it proceeds with a slowness varying with the
-depression of temperature. The most rapid result is obtained by first
-cooking the food as above, then reducing the temperature to 150°, and
-adding the malt flour or malt extract, and maintaining the temperature
-for a short time. The advantage of previous cooking is due to the
-preliminary breaking-up and hydration of the starch granules.
-
-Fourthly, besides the malt meal or malt flour, I recommend the
-manufacture of what I may call ‘pearl malt,’ that is, malt treated as
-barley is treated in the manufacture of pearl barley. This pearl malt
-may be largely used in soups, puddings, and for other purposes evident
-to the practical cook. It may be found preferable to the malt flour for
-some of the above-named purposes, especially for making a _purée_ like
-Rumford’s soup.
-
-I strongly recommend such a soup to vegetarians—_i.e._ the Rumford soup
-No. 1, already described, but with the admixture of a little pearl malt
-with the pearl barley (or malt flour failing the pearl malt). A small
-proportion of malt (one-twentieth, for example) has a considerable
-effect, but a larger amount is desirable. In all cases this quantity
-may be regulated by experience and according to whether a decided malt
-flavour is or is not preferred.
-
-I have not yet met with any malted maize commercially prepared, but my
-experiments on a small scale show that it is a very desirable product.
-
-As regards the action of vegetable diastase on cellulose, whether it
-is capable of breaking it up or effecting its hydration and conversion
-into digestible sugar, I am not yet able to speak positively, but the
-following facts are promising.
-
-I treated sago, tapioca, and rice with the maltose as above, and found
-that at a temperature of 140° to 150° all the starch disappears in
-about half an hour, as proved by the iodine test. Still the liquid was
-not clear: flocculi of cellulose, &c., were suspended in it. I kept
-this on the top of a stove several days, where the temperature of the
-liquid varied from 100° to 180° while the fire was burning, but fell to
-that of the atmosphere during the night. The quantity of the insoluble
-matter considerably diminished, but it was not entirely removed.
-
-This led me to make further experiments, still in progress, on the
-ensilage of human food with the aid of diastase. These experiments are
-on a small scale, and are sufficiently satisfactory to justify more
-effective trials on a larger scale. It is well known that ordinary
-ensilage succeeds much better on a large than on a small scale, and I
-have no doubt that such will be the case with my diastase ensilage of
-oatmeal, pease-pudding, mashed roots, &c.
-
-I am also treating such vegetable food material with various acids for
-the same purpose.
-
-When by these or other means we convert vegetable tissue into dextrin
-and sugar, as it is naturally converted in the ripening pear, and
-as it has been artificially converted in our laboratories, we shall
-extend our food supplies in an incalculable degree. Swedes, turnips,
-mangold-wurzels, &c., will become delicate diet for invalids; horse
-beans, far more nutritious than beef; delicate biscuits and fancy
-pastry, as well as ordinary bread, will be produced from sawdust
-and wood shavings, plus a little leguminous flour to supplement the
-nitrogenous requirement.
-
-This may even be done now. Long ago I converted an old
-pocket-handkerchief and part of an old shirt into sugar, but not
-profitably as a commercial transaction. Other chemists have done the
-like in their laboratories. It is yet to be done in the kitchen.
-
-I should add that the sugar referred to in all the above is not cane
-sugar, but the sugar corresponding to that in the grape and in honey.
-It is less sweet than cane or beet sugar, but is a better food.
-
-I have already spoken of the difficulty presented by the opposite
-nature of the solvents demanded by the casein and the cellulose in my
-experiments on the ensilage of pease-pudding. The action of diastase
-indicates a possible solution of this difficulty. Let us suppose that
-a sufficient amount of potash is used to dissolve the casein, its
-solution separated as described (pages 218-219), the insoluble fibrous
-remainder treated with maltose or malt flour, and its action allowed
-to proceed to fermentation and effecting the formation of acetic acid.
-Will this acid, by means of ensilage, act upon the cellulose as the
-acid of the unripe pear acts upon its cellulose?
-
-This is another of the questions that I can only suggest, not having
-had time and opportunity to supply experimental answer.
-
-Do fruits contain diastase?
-
-Two kinds of food are described by Pavy (‘Treatise on Food and
-Dietetics,’ page 227), in the preparation of which the conversion of
-starch into dextrin appears to be effected. As I have no acquaintance
-with these, never met with them either in Scotland or Wales, I will
-quote his description:
-
-‘_Sowans_, _seeds_, or _flummery_, which constitutes a very popular
-article of diet in Scotland and South Wales, is made from the husks of
-the grain (oats). The husks, with the starchy particles adhering to
-them, are separated from the other parts of the grain and steeped in
-water for one or two days, until the mass ferments and becomes sourish.
-It is then skimmed and the liquid boiled down to the consistence of
-gruel. In Wales this food is called _sucan_. _Budrum_ is prepared
-in the same manner, except that the liquid is boiled down to a
-sufficient consistency to form, when cold, a firm jelly. This resembles
-blancmange, and constitutes a light, demulcent, and nutritious article
-of food, which is well suited for the weak stomach.’
-
-Here it is evident that solution takes place and a gummy substance is
-formed; this and the fermentation and sourish taste all indicate the
-action of the diastase of the seed converting the starch into dextrin
-and sugar, the latter passing at once into acetic fermentation. Having
-only just met with this passage, I am unable to supply any experimental
-evidence, but suggest to any of my readers who may be on the spot where
-either of these preparations are made, the simple experiment of adding
-a little diluted tincture of iodine to the sowans or budrum, preferably
-to the latter. If any of the starch remains as starch, a deep blue
-tint will be immediately struck; if this is not the case it is _all_
-converted.
-
-I have just received a letter (while the proofs of this sheet are in
-course of correction) from a retired barrister in his seventy-third
-year, who, after a successful career in India, ‘retired in 1870 to
-enjoy the _otium cum dig_.’ Among other interesting particulars
-relating to animal and vegetable diet, he tells me that ‘somehow I
-did not, with a purely vegetable diet, excite saliva sufficient for
-digestion, and being constitutionally a gouty subject, I have suffered
-very much from gout until comparatively lately (say the last eight
-months), when an idea came into my head that by the use of potash I
-might get rid of the calcareous deposit accompanying gout, and have
-been taking 30 drops of liquor potassæ in my tea with very good effect.
-But within the last ten days, thanks to your article in “Knowledge”
-of January 16, 1885, I have, as it were by magic, become young again.
-I was not aware that the diastase of malt had the same powers as
-the salivary secretions. When I read your article, I commenced the
-experiment on my morning food, namely, oatmeal-porridge, of which for
-several years I have cooked daily four ounces, of which I could never
-eat more than half without feeling distended for an hour or two, and
-then again feeling hungry and a craving for more food. Since I followed
-your directions I have been able to eat comfortably nearly the whole
-(five ounces with the malt). I feel no distension for the time nor
-craving afterwards; I am comfortably satisfied for hours; but what
-is more, the diastased porridge has had the effect of removing the
-tendency to costiveness, which was sore trouble, and it has rendered my
-joints supple, and destroyed the tendency of my finger and toe-nails
-to grow rapidly and brittle. All this seems to have changed, as if by
-magic. I, therefore, write to you as a public benefactor, to thank you
-for your seasonable hints.’
-
-I quote this letter (with the permission of the writer, Mr. A. T. T.
-Petersen) the more willingly and confidently from the fact that I have
-lately adopted as a regular supper diet a porridge made of oatmeal,
-to which about one-sixth or one-eighth of malt flour is added. I find
-it in every respect advantageous, far better than ordinary simple
-oatmeal-porridge. The following from Pavy, p. 229, indicates further
-the desirability of assisting the salivary glands and pancreas in
-digesting this otherwise excellent food. Speaking of oatmeal-porridge,
-he says: ‘It is apt to disagree with some dyspeptics, having a tendency
-to produce acidity and pyrosis, and cases have been noticed among those
-who have been in the daily habit of consuming it, where dyspeptic
-symptoms have subsided upon temporarily abandoning its use.’
-
-My readers should try the following experiment. It supplies a striking
-demonstration of the potency of the diastase of malt.
-
-Make a portion of oatmeal-porridge in the usual manner, but unusually
-thick—a pudding rather than a porridge; then, while it is still hot
-(150° or thereabouts) in the saucepan, add some _dry_ malt flour (equal
-to one-eighth to one-fourth of the oatmeal used). Stir this dry flour
-into it and a curious transformation will take place. The dry flour
-instead of thickening the mixture acts like the addition of water,
-and converts the thick pudding into a thin porridge. I find that this
-paradox greatly astonishes the practical cook.
-
-FOOTNOTE:
-
-[22] I have lately learned that a patent was secured some years ago for
-‘malt bread,’ and that such bread is obtainable from bakers who make
-it under a license from the patentee. The ‘revised formula’ for 1884,
-which I have just obtained, says: ‘Take of wheat meal 6 lbs., wheat
-flour 6 lbs., malt flour 6 oz., German yeast 2 oz., salt 2 oz., water
-sufficient. Make into dough (without first melting the malt), prove
-well, and bake in tins.’
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX.
-
-THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION.
-
-
-I HAVE repeatedly spoken of the nitrogenous and non-nitrogenous
-constituents of food, assuming that the nitrogenous are the more
-nutritious, are the plastic or flesh-building materials, and that the
-non-nitrogenous materials cannot build up flesh or bone or nervous
-matter, can only supply the material of fat, and by their combustion
-maintain the animal heat.
-
-In doing so I have been treading on loose ground—I may say on a
-scientific quicksand. When I first taught practical physiology to
-children in Edinburgh, many years ago, this part of the subject was
-much easier to teach than now. The simple and elegant theory of Liebig
-was then generally accepted, and appeared quite sound.
-
-According to this, every muscular effort is performed at the expense
-of muscular tissue; every mental effort, at the expense of cerebral
-tissue; and so on with all the forces of life. This consumption or
-degradation of tissue demands continual supplies of food for its
-renewal, and as all the working organs of the animal are composed of
-nitrogenous tissue, it is clearly necessary, according to this, that we
-should be supplied with nitrogenous food to renew them, seeing that the
-nitrogen of the air cannot be assimilated by animals at all.
-
-But besides doing mechanical and mental work, the animal body is
-continually giving out heat, and its temperature must be maintained.
-Food is also demanded for this, and the non-nitrogenous food is the
-most readily combustible, especially the hydro-carbons or fats; the
-carbo-hydrates—starch, sugar, &c.—also, but in lower degree. These,
-then, were described as fuel food, or heat-producers.
-
-This view is strongly confirmed by a multitude of familiar facts. Men,
-horses, and other animals cannot do continuous hard work without a
-supply of nitrogenous food; the harder the work the more they require,
-and the greater becomes their craving for it. On the other hand, when
-such food is eaten in large quantities by idle people, they become
-victims of inflammatory disease, or their health otherwise suffers,
-according, probably, to whether they assimilate or reject it.
-
-Man is a cosmopolitan animal, and the variations of his natural demand
-for food in different climates affords very direct support to Liebig’s
-theory. Enormous quantities of hydro-carbon, in the form of fat, are
-consumed by the Esquimaux and by Europeans when they winter in the
-Arctic regions. They cannot live there without it. In hot climates
-_some_ fuel food is required, and the milder form of carbo-hydrates is
-chosen, and found to be most suitable; rice, which is mainly composed
-of starch, is an example. Sugar also. Offer an Esquimaux a tallow
-candle and a rice or tapioca pudding; he will reject the latter, and
-eat the former with great relish.
-
-A multitude of other facts might be stated, all supporting Liebig’s
-theory.
-
-There is one that just occurs to me as I write, which I will state,
-as it appears to have been hitherto unnoticed. Some organs which act
-in such wise that we can _see_ their mode of action are visibly
-disintegrated and consumed by their own activity, and may be seen to
-demand the perpetual renewal described by Liebig. There are glands of
-cellular structure which cast off their terminal cells containing the
-fluid they secrete; do their work by giving up their own structural
-substance at their peripheral working surface.
-
-Where, then, is the quicksand? It is here. If muscular and mental work
-were done at the expense of the nitrogenous muscular and cerebral
-tissues, the quantity of nitrogen excreted should vary with the
-amount of work done. This was formerly stated to be the case without
-hesitation, as the following passage from Carpenter’s ‘Manual of
-Physiology’ (3rd edition, 1856, page 256), shows: ‘Every action of the
-nervous and muscular systems involves the death and decay of a certain
-amount of the living tissue, as is indicated by the appearance of the
-products of that decay in the excretions.’
-
-More recent experiments by Fick and Wislicenus, Parkes, Houghton,
-Ranke, Voit, Flint, and others are said to contradict this by showing
-that the waste nitrogen varies with the quantity of nitrogenous food
-that is eaten, but not with the muscular work done. For the details
-of these experiments I must refer the reader to standard _modern_
-physiological treatises, as a full description of them would carry me
-too far away from my immediate subject. (Dr. Pavy’s ‘Treatise on Food’
-has an introductory chapter on ‘The Dynamic Relations of Food,’ in
-which this subject is clearly treated in sufficient detail for popular
-reading.)
-
-It is quite the fashion now to rely upon these later experiments; but
-for my own part, I am by no means satisfied with them—and for this
-reason, that the excretions from the skin and from the lungs were not
-examined.
-
-It is just these which are greatly increased by exercise, and their
-normal quantity is very large, especially those from the skin, which
-are threefold, viz. the insensible perspiration, which is transpired by
-the skin as invisible vapour; the sweat, which is liquid, and the solid
-particles of exuded cuticle.
-
-Lavoisier and Seguin long ago made very laborious experiments upon
-themselves in order to determine the amount of the insensible
-perspiration. Seguin enclosed himself in a bag of glazed taffeta, which
-was tied over him with no other opening than a hole corresponding to
-his mouth; the edges of this hole were glued to his lips with a mixture
-of turpentine and pitch. He carefully weighed himself and the bag
-before and after his enclosure therein. His own loss of weight being
-partly from the lungs and partly from the skin, the amount gained by
-the bag represented the quantity of the latter; the difference between
-this and the loss of his own weight gave the amount exhaled from the
-lungs.
-
-He thus found that the largest quantity of _insensible_ exhalation from
-the lungs and skin together amounted to 3½ oz. per hour, or at the rate
-of 5¼ lbs. per day. The smallest quantity was 1 lb. 14 oz., and the
-mean was 3 lbs. 11 oz. Three-fourths of this was cutaneous.
-
-These figures only show the quantity of insensible perspiration during
-repose. Valentin found that his hourly loss by cutaneous exhalation
-while sitting amounted to 32·8 grammes, or rather less than 1¼ oz. On
-taking exercise, with an empty stomach, in the sun, the hourly loss
-increased to 89·3 grammes, or nearly three times as much. After a meal
-followed by violent exercise, with the temperature of the air at 72°
-F., it amounted to 132·7 grammes, or nearly 4½ times as much as during
-repose. A robust man, taking violent exercise in hot weather, may give
-off as much as 5 lbs. in an hour.
-
-The third excretion from the skin, the epithelial or superficial scales
-of the epidermis, is small in weight, but it is solid, and of similar
-composition to gelatin. It should be understood that this increases
-largely with exercise. The practice of sponging and ‘rubbing down’ of
-athletes removes the excess; but I am not aware of any attempt that has
-been made to determine accurately the quantity thus removed.
-
-Does the skin excrete nitrogenous matter that may be, like urea, a
-product of the degradation or destruction of muscular tissue?
-
-The following passage from Lehmann’s ‘Physiological Chemistry’ (vol.
-ii. p. 389), shows that the skin throws out plenty of nitrogen obtained
-from somewhere: ‘It has been shown by the experiments of Milly, Jurine,
-Ingenhouss, Spallanzani, Abernethy, Barruel, and Collard di Martigny,
-that _gases_, and especially _carbonic acid_ and _nitrogen_, are
-likewise exhaled with the liquid secretion of the sudiparious glands.
-According to the last-named experimentalist the ratio between these
-two gases is very variable; thus, in the gas developed after vegetable
-food there is a preponderance of carbonic acid, and, after animal food,
-there is an excess of nitrogen. Abernethy found that on an average the
-collective gas contained rather more than two-thirds of carbonic acid
-and rather less than one-third of nitrogen.’ But it appears that less
-gas is exhaled when there is much liquid perspiration.
-
-Lehmann’s summary of the experiments of Abernethy, Brunner, and
-Valentin (vol. ii. p. 391), gives the amount of hourly exudation, under
-ordinary circumstances, as 50·71 grammes of water, 0·25 of a gramme of
-carbon, and 0·92 of a gramme of nitrogen. This amounts to 21½ grammes
-of nitrogen per day in the _insensible_ perspiration; three-quarters of
-an ounce avoirdupois, or as much nitrogen as is contained in one pound
-and a half of natural living muscle.
-
-That the liquid perspiration contains compounds of nitrogen, and just
-such compounds as would result from the degradation of nitrogenous
-tissue, is unquestionable. As Lehmann says (vol. ii. p. 389), ‘the
-sweat very easily decomposes, and gives rise to the secondary formation
-of ammonia.’ Simon and Berzelius found salts of ammonia in the sweat:
-that the ammonia is combined both with hydrochloric acid and with
-organic acids: that it probably exists as carbonate of ammonia in
-alkaline sweat.
-
-The existence of urea in sweat appears to be uncertain; some chemists
-assert its presence, others deny it. Favre and Schottin, for example,
-who have both studied the subject very carefully, are at direct
-variance. I suspect that both are right, as its presence or absence is
-variable, and appears to depend on the condition of the subject of the
-experiment.
-
-Favre describes a special nitrogenous acid which he discovered
-in sweat, and names it _hydrotic_ or _sudoric acid_. Its
-composition corresponds, according to his analysis, to the formula
-C_{10}H_{8}NO_{13}.
-
-I have summarised these facts, as they show clearly enough that
-conclusions based on an examination of the quantity of nitrogen
-excreted by the kidneys alone (and such is the sole basis of the
-modern theories), are of little or no value in determining whether or
-not muscular work is accompanied with degradation of muscular tissue.
-The well known fact that the total quantity of excretory work done
-by the skin increases with muscular work, while that from the kidneys
-rather diminishes, indicates in the plainest possible manner that an
-examination of the skin secretion should be primary in connection
-with this question. To entirely neglect this in such a research is a
-scientific parallel to the histrionic feat of performing the tragedy of
-‘Hamlet’ with the Prince of Denmark omitted.
-
-Seeing that it has been entirely neglected, I am justified in
-expressing, very plainly and positively, my opinion of the
-worthlessness of all the modern research upon which the alleged
-refutation of Liebig’s theory of the destruction and renewal of living
-tissue in the performance of vital work is based, and my rejection of
-the modern alternative hypothesis concerning the manner in which food
-supplies the material demanded for muscular and mental work.
-
-I may be accused of rashness and presumption in thus attempting to
-stem the overwhelming current of modern scientific progress. Such,
-however, is not the case. It is modern scientific _fashion_, rather
-than scientific _progress_, that I oppose. We have too much of this
-millinery spirit in the scientific world just now; too much eagerness
-to run after ‘the last thing out,’ and assume, with undue readiness,
-that the ‘latest researches’ are, of course, the best—especially where
-fashionable physicians are concerned.
-
-Having summarised Liebig’s theory of the source of vital power, and
-its supposed refutation by modern experiments, I will now endeavour to
-state the alternative modern hypothesis, though not without difficulty,
-nor with satisfactory result, seeing that the recent theorists are
-vague and self-contradictory. All agree that vital power or liberated
-force is obtained at the expense of some kind of chemical action of a
-destructive or oxidising character, and is, therefore, theoretically
-analogous to the source of power in a steam-engine; but when they come
-to the practical question of the demand for working fuel or food, they
-abandon this analogy.
-
-Pavy says (‘Treatise on Food and Dietetics,’ page 6): ‘In the
-liberation of actual force, a complete analogy may be traced between
-the animal system and a steam-engine. Both are media for the conversion
-of latent into actual force. In the animal system, combustible material
-is supplied under the form of the various kinds of food, and oxygen is
-taken in for the process of respiration. From the chemical energy due
-to the combination of these, force is liberated in an active state;
-and, besides manifesting itself as heat, and in other ways peculiar
-to the animal system, is capable of performing mechanical work.’ In
-another place (page 59 of same work), after describing Liebig’s view,
-Dr. Pavy says: ‘The facts which have been already adduced’ (those
-above described on the nitrogen eliminated by the kidneys), ‘suffice
-to refute this doctrine. Indeed, it may be considered as abundantly
-proved that food does not require to become organised tissue before it
-can be rendered available for force-production.’ On page 81 he says:
-‘While nitrogenous matter may be regarded as forming the essential
-basis of structures possessing active or living properties, _the
-non-nitrogenous principles may be looked upon as supplying the source
-of power_. The one may be spoken of as holding the position of the
-instrument of action, while the other supplies the motive power.
-Nitrogenous alimentary matter may, it is true, by oxidation contribute
-to the generation of the moving force, but, as has been explained, in
-fulfilling this office there is evidence before us to show that it is
-split up into two distinct portions, one containing _the nitrogen,
-which is eliminated as useless, and a residuary non-nitrogenous portion
-which is retained and utilised in force-production_.’
-
-The italics are mine, for reasons presently to be explained. Pavy’s
-work contains repetitions and further illustrations of this attribution
-of the origin of force to the non-nitrogenous elements of food.
-
-Then we have a statement of the experiments of Joule on the mechanical
-equivalent of heat, connected with experiments of Frankland with the
-apparatus that is used for determining the calorific value of coal,
-&c.—viz. a little tubular furnace charged with a mixture of the
-combustible to be tested, and chlorate of potash. This being placed in
-a tube, open below, and thrust under water, is fired, and gives out all
-its heat to the surrounding liquid, the rise of temperature of which
-measures the calorific value of the substance (see fig. 7, page 21,
-‘Simple Treatise on Heat’).
-
-From this result is calculated the mechanical work obtainable from a
-given quantity of different food materials. That from a gramme is given
-as follows:
-
- Beef fat 27,778 } Units of work,
- Starch (arrowroot) 11,983 } or number of
- Lump sugar 10,254 } pounds lifted
- Grape sugar 10,038 } one foot.
-
-In Dr. Edward Smith’s treatise on ‘Food,’ the foot-pound equivalent
-of each kind of food is specifically stated in such a manner as to
-lead the student to conclude that this represents its actual working
-efficiency _as food_. Other modern writers represent it in like manner.
-
-Here, then, comes the bearing of these theories on my subject. A
-practical dietary or _menu_ is demanded, say, for navvies or for
-athletes in full work; another for sedentary people doing little work
-of any kind.
-
-According to the new theory, the best possible food for the first class
-is fat, butter being superior to lean beef in the proportion of 14,421
-to 2,829 (Smith), and beef fat having nearly eight times the value of
-lean beef. Ten grains of rice give 7,454 foot-pounds of working-power,
-while the same quantity of lean beef gives only 2,829; according to
-which 1 lb. of rice should supply as much support to hard workers as 2½
-lbs. of beefsteak. None of the modern theorists dare to be consistent
-when dealing with such direct practical applications.
-
-I might quote a multitude of other palpable inconsistencies of the
-theory, which is so slippery that it cannot be firmly grasped. Thus,
-Dr. Pavy (page 403), immediately after describing bacon fat as ‘the
-most efficient kind of force-producing material,’ and stating that ‘the
-_non-nitrogenous_ alimentary principles appear to possess a higher
-dietetic value than the _nitrogenous_,’ tells us that ‘the performance
-of work may be looked upon as necessitating a _proportionate supply_
-of _nitrogenous_ alimentary matter,’ and his reason for this admission
-being that such nitrogenous material is required for the nutrition of
-the muscles themselves.
-
-A pretty tissue of inconsistencies is thus supplied! Non-nitrogenous
-food is the best force-producer—it corresponds to the fuel of the
-steam-engine; the nitrogenous is necessary only to repair the machine.
-Nevertheless, when force production is specially demanded, the food
-required is not the force-producer, but the special builder of muscles,
-the which muscles, according to theory, are _not_ used up and renewed
-in doing the work.
-
-It must be remembered that the whole of this modern theoretical fabric
-is built upon the experiments which are supposed to show that there is
-no more elimination of nitrogenous matter during hard work than during
-rest. Yet we are told that ‘the performance of work may be looked upon
-as necessitating a proportionate supply of nitrogenous alimentary
-matter,’ and that such material ‘is split up into two distinct
-portions, one containing the nitrogen, which is eliminated as useless.’
-This thesis is proved by experiments showing (as asserted) that such
-elimination is not so proportioned.
-
-In short, the modern theory presents us with the following pretty
-paradox. The consumption of nitrogenous food is proportionate to work
-done. The elimination of nitrogen is _not_ proportionate to work done.
-The elimination of nitrogen _is_ proportionate to the consumption of
-nitrogenous food.
-
-I have tried hard to obtain a rational physiological view of the modern
-theory. When its advocates compare our food to the fuel of an engine,
-and maintain that its combustion _directly_ supplies the moving power,
-what do they mean?
-
-They cannot suppose that the food is thus oxidised as food, yet such is
-implied. The work cannot be done in the stomach, nor in the intestinal
-canal, nor in the mesenteric glands, nor in their outlet, the thoracic
-duct. After leaving this, the food becomes organised living material,
-the blood being such. The question, therefore, as between the new
-theory and that of Liebig, must be whether work is effected by _the
-combustion of the blood itself_ or by the degradation of the working
-tissues, which are fed and renewed by the blood. Although this is so
-obviously the only rational physiological question, I have not found it
-thus stated.
-
-Such being the case, the supposed analogy to the steam-engine breaks
-down altogether; the food is certainly assimilated, is converted into
-the living material of the animal itself before it does any work, and
-therefore it must be the wear and tear of the machine itself which
-supplies the working power, and not that of the food as mere fuel
-material shovelled directly into the animal furnace.
-
-I thus agree with Playfair, who says that the modern theory involves
-a ‘false analogy of the animal body to a steam-engine,’ and that
-‘incessant transformation of the acting parts of the animal machine
-forms the condition for its action, while in the case of the
-steam-engine it is the transformation of fuel external to the machine
-which causes it to move.’ Pavy says that ‘Dr. Playfair, in these
-utterances, must be regarded as writing behind the time.’ He may be
-behind as regards the _fashion_, but I think he is in advance as
-regards the _truth_.
-
-My readers, therefore, need not be ashamed of clinging to the
-old-fashioned belief that their own bodies are alive throughout, and
-perform all the operations of working, feeling, thinking, &c., by
-virtue of their own inherent self-contained vitality, and that in doing
-this they consume their own substance, which has to be perpetually
-replaced by new material, its quality depending upon the manner of
-working and the matter and manner of replacement.
-
-The course of our own evolution thus depends upon ourselves; we may,
-according to our own daily conduct, be building up a better body and
-a better mind, or one that shall be worse than the fair promise of
-the original germ. Therefore the philosophy of the preparation of the
-material of which the body and brain are built up and renewed must be
-worthy of careful study. This philosophy is ‘THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY.’
-
-
-
-
-INDEX.
-
-
- ACIDS, mineral and vegetable, 224
-
- Aërated bread, 206
-
- Albumen, 19
- coagulation of, 20
- of flesh, 24
- loss of in boiling fish and meat, 24
-
- Allotropism, 88
-
- Alum in bread, 203
-
- Animal diastase, 186
-
- Apple fritters, 101
-
- Argol, 273
-
- Arrowroot, 179
-
- Arsenic eating, 256
-
-
- BAIN-MARIE, 22, 119
-
- Baked meat, prejudice against, 64
-
- Baking _versus_ roasting of meat, 65
-
- Barley sugar, 88
-
- Basting, 57
-
- Bavarian beggars and Count Rumford, 229
-
- Birds’-nests, edible, 35
-
- Blood-fibrin, 43
-
- ‘Boiled meat’ is not boiled, 14
-
- Boiling of fat, 84
- of water, 8
-
- Bone-soup Commission of French Academy, 36
-
- Borized meat, 170
- milk, 171
-
- Bosch _v._ butter, 167
- _v._ butterine, 144
-
- Boussingault’s experiments on bread, 207
-
- Bread, 197
-
- British gum, 182
-
- Browning of roasted meat, 78
- rationale of, 87
-
- Budrum, 310
-
- Butter, 163
- and infection, 166
-
-
- CALCAREOUS WATER, 10
-
- Cancer and flesh eating, 301
-
- Caramel, 87-89
- a disinfectant, 92
-
- Carnivorous, a sheep, 301
-
- Casein, 127
- changes of, 128
- vegetable, 211
-
- Cayenne pepper, 260
-
- Cellular tissue, 174, 180
-
- Cheese, cookery of, 136
- digestibility of, 135
- in soup, 149
- nutritive value of, 131
- phosphates in, 133
- porridge, 151
- pudding, 136
- solubility of, 143
-
- Chemical analysis and nutritive value of food, 6
-
- Chinese and cooked water, 13
-
- Chitin, 33
-
- Chondrin, 33
-
- Cocoa, 261
-
- ‘Coffee as in France,’ 96
-
- Colloids and crystalloids, 115
-
- Composition of albumen, gelatin, and fibrin, 45
- kreatine and kreatinine, 46
-
- Condensed milk, 129
-
- Condiments, 259
-
- Convection in roasting, 49
-
- Cooked water, 10
-
- Cream, 162
-
- Crust of bread, 91, 136, 200
-
- Curd of milk, 127
-
-
- DEXTRIN, 182, 185
- in bread, 200
-
- Diastase, 184, 303
-
- Diastased porridge, 305, 306, 311, 312
-
- Difference between vegetable and animal food, 177, 297
-
- Diffusion of liquids, 112
-
- Digestion of starch, 186
-
- Dinner of a French or Swiss peasant, 126
-
- Diosmosis, 114
-
- Disinfection of water by boiling, 12
- by toast, 92
-
- Dissociation of flavours, 49
-
- Dolby’s extractor, 120
-
- Domestic chops and steaks, 52
-
- Dough, 197
-
- Dripping, 159
-
- Drunkenness and cookery, 61
-
-
- ECONOMICAL FRYING, 98
-
- Effects of diastased porridge, 311
-
- Eggs, cookery of, 22
- nutritive value of, 19
- of feathered and featherless young birds, 20
-
- Endosmosis and exosmosis, 114
-
- English stewing, 124
-
- Ensilage of human food, 214
- by means of diastase, 308
-
- Excretion of nitrogen from the skin, 316
-
- Expansion of well-grilled meat, 53
-
- Experiment with Rumford’s roaster, 74
-
- Explosion of water, 86
-
- Extract of meat, 117
-
-
- FAT, 156
- action of heat on, 84, 158
- bath for joints, 57
- for frying, 101
-
- Fermentation of bread, 198
-
- Ferments, 184
-
- Fibrin, 43
-
- Fish, boiling of, 24, 27
- cooked in paper, 60
- roasting, 58
- with cheese, 153
-
- Flames, different kinds of, and grilling, 51
-
- Flavouring power of the juices of meat, 26
-
- Flesh feeding, a temporary barbarism, 7
-
- Flummery, 310
-
- Fondu, 136
-
- Forces of nature co-operating with man, 2
-
- Frozen meat, 94, 168
-
- Fruit jelly, 225
-
- Frying, 84
- kettle, 98
- theory of, 97
-
- Fuel wasted in boiling, 15
-
-
- GASTRIC JUICE, modification of, 44
-
- Gelatin, fibrin, and the juices of meat, 32
- hydration of, 41
- solubility of, 32
-
- Gluten, 194
- fibrin and gluten casein, 195
-
- Glycerine, 157
-
- Green-pea clear soup, 219
-
- Grilling of chops and steaks, 52
-
- Gum arabic, 183
-
-
- HASTY PUDDING AND CHEESE, 152
-
- Hot rolls from stale bread, 208
-
- Hydration of gelatin, 41
- of starch, 181
-
-
- INCRUSTATION OF BOILERS, kettles, &c., 11
-
- Isinglass, 36, 41
-
- Italian cookery, 90
- of cheese, 149
-
-
- JOHNSTON ON TEA AND COFFEE, 251
-
- Juices of meat, 25, 40, 45
-
-
- KITCHEN A CHEMICAL LABORATORY, the, 4
-
- Kitchener-ovens and roasters, 7
-
- Kreatine and kreatinine, 45
-
-
- LARD, 159
- dissociation of, 85
-
- Leaven, 206
-
- Leg of mutton, how to boil, 26
-
- Legumin, 212
-
- Lehmann on coffee, 251
-
- ‘Liaison au roux,’ 90
-
- Liebig on gelatin, 36
- on tea and coffee, 251
-
- Liebig’s extract of meat, 25, 37
-
- Lignin, 174
-
- Lime in bread, 205
-
- Lobster suppers, 33
-
- Locusts as food, 34
-
-
- MACERATION, 112
-
- Magnesia in bread, 265
-
- Malt, action on various foods, 305
- directions for using, 306, 312
-
- Malted food, 303
-
- Man, the cooking animal, 295
-
- Man’s work on earth, 1
-
- Marie Antoinette’s pie-crust, 176
-
- Milk, a carrier of infection, 164
- composition of, 162
- cooking of, 163
- dietetic value of, 161
- for herbivora, carnivora, and man, 296
- supply to London, 163
-
- Muscle fibrin, 43
-
-
- NEW AND STALE BREAD, 207
-
- Nitrogenous principles of plants and animals compared, 195
-
- Norwegian cooking apparatus, 24, 30
-
- Nutrition, fashionable theory of, 315
- inconsistencies of fashionable theory of, 319
- Liebig’s theory of, 313
- Playfair on the physiology of, 324
- the physiology of, 313
-
- Nutritive value of food as affected by cookery, 6
- of gelatin, 36
-
-
- ŒNANTHIC ETHER, 270
-
- Oils for frying, 107
- volatile and fixed, 84
-
- Old hens, how to roast, 125, 126
-
- Oleomargarine, 146
-
- Oven, construction of, 80
-
- Oysters and invalids, 180
-
-
- PARMESAN CHEESE, 151, 220
-
- Pasteuring of wine, 269
-
- Peasants’ food in Italy and France, 61, 126
-
- Pease-pudding, 214-218
-
- Pectin, 225
-
- Penny dinners, 244
-
- Phosphates in milk and cheese, 133
-
- Phosphorus in bones and brain, 134
-
- Popped corn, 210
-
- Porridge _v._ flesh, 299
-
- Potage and stewed meat, 116
- value of, 219
-
- Potash bitartrate, solubility of, 272
- food, 221
- in cheese cookery, 141
- in potatoes, 190
- scurvy, gout, &c., 142
-
- Potatoes in bread, 202
- a curse of Ireland, 193
- and cheese porridge, 152
- and scurvy, 190
- cookery of, 189
- nutritive value of, 192
-
- Purification of fat, 101
-
-
- RADIATION AND CONVECTION IN ROASTING, 49
- in grilling, 47
-
- Rahat Lakoum, 225
-
- Rationale of roasting, 48
-
- Reaction from tea, 257
-
- Rennet, 129
-
- Rice and cheese, 153
-
- ‘Risotto à la Milanese,’ 150
-
- Roasting an ox, 56
- and grilling, 47
- before open fire, evils of, 60
- large joints, 55
- small joints, 53
-
- Rumford, Count of, 5
- on boiling meat, 16
- on military rations, 241
- on the pleasure of eating, 238
-
- Rumford’s cookery, 227
-
- Rumford’s experiment on low temperature roasting, 29
- roaster, 63, 70
- roasting oven, 76
- soup, 231
- soup compared with flesh food, 298
-
-
- SAGO, 189
-
- Saliva and diastase, 304
-
- Salivary diastase, 186
-
- Salmon cooking in Norway, 28
-
- Samp, 240
-
- Sauer-kraut, 216
-
- Sawdust as food, 175
-
- Science in the kitchen, 4
-
- Seeds as food, 194
-
- Sheep, a carnivorous and cannibal, 301
-
- Sherbet, 225
-
- Shrimps, fried, 34
-
- Simmering and boiling, 14
-
- Small joints and their cookery, 53
-
- Smith, Dr., on tea, 254
-
- Snail soup, 35
-
- Soluble and insoluble casein, 130
-
- Solution of vegetable casein, 217
-
- South Kensington food exhibits, 211
-
- Sowans, 310
-
- Specific sapidity of food, 239
-
- Spinning of sugar, 89
-
- Starch, 178, 181
-
- Stearic acid, 157
-
- Stewing, 111
- and albumen, 119
-
- Stirabout and cheese, 153
-
- Sulphate of copper in bread, 205
-
- Super-heaters, cost of, 75
-
- Syntonin, 43
-
-
- TAPIOCA, 188
-
- Tea and coffee, Rumford’s substitute for, 245
- physiological action of, 246
-
- Technical and technological education, 3
-
- Temperature for stewing, 118
- of vegetable cookery, 177
-
- Tenderness, true and false, 121
-
- Testing the temperature of fat bath, 100
-
- Thermometers for the kitchen, 79
- for fat bath, 105
-
- Thomson, Sir Henry, on roasting of fish, 58
-
- Tinned meat, 121
-
- Toast and water, 92
-
- Tripe and cheese, 154
-
-
- UNFERMENTED BREAD, 200
-
-
- VAPOURS OF ROASTING MEAT, 78
-
- Vegetable casein, 211
- diet, economy of, 301
- fibrin, casein and gluten, 195
- food and mixed diet compared, 297
- juices, 211
- -marrow _au gratin_, 155
- tissue, 173
-
- Vegetables, the cookery of, 173
-
- Vegetarian question, the, 294
-
-
- WARREN’S COOKING-POT, 81
-
- Waste of fuel in boiling, 15
-
- Water-bath cookery, 119
-
- Water in fish, 86
-
- Whole-meal bread, 6, 204
-
- Wine, artificial bouquet of, 291
- artificial colour of, 288
- bouquet of, 288
- cookery of, 265
- cost of, 265-292
- drying of, 280
- natural colour of, 288
- Pasteuring of, 269
- plastering of, 277
- sickness of, 271
- sulphuric acid in, 276
-
-
- YOLK OF EGG, ITS COAGULATION, 23
-
- _Spottiswoode & Co. Printers, New-street Square, London._
-
- * * * * *
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Larger vulgar fractions had been
-printed with a hyphen instead of a slash. This was changed to a slash
-for conformity. (1-30th is now 1/30th)
-
-Page 54, “is” changed to “it” (exposed, it is evident)
-
-Page 81, “judgment” changed to “judgement” (the judgement of which)
-
-Page 108, while it seems that this sentence is missing an object:
-
- When common sense and true sentiment supplant mere
- unreasoning prejudice, vegetable oils and vegetable
- fats will largely supplant those of animal origin in
- every element of our dietary.
-
-It has been quoted in just that manner across numerous publications.
-
-Page 109, “facts” changed to “fats” (the chemistry of fats)
-
-Page 328, the text refers to the now more usually spelled “sauerkraut”
-as “sour-kraut” in the text and “Sauer-kraut” in the index. These
-usages were retained as printed.
-
-Page 328, “fath” changed to “fat” (for fat bath)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's The Chemistry of Cookery, by W. Mattieu Williams
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-<pre>
-
-Project Gutenberg's The Chemistry of Cookery, by W. Mattieu Williams
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Chemistry of Cookery
-
-Author: W. Mattieu Williams
-
-Release Date: November 6, 2016 [EBook #53458]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chris Curnow, Emmy and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive)
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-</pre>
-
-
-<h1 class="faux">THE CHEMISTRY of COOKERY</h1>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 538px;">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="538" height="800" alt="cover: this cover has been created by the transcriber by adding text to the original cover and is placed in the public domain" />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="maintitle">THE<br />
-<span class="smcap">CHEMISTRY of COOKERY</span></div>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<div class="center"><i>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</i><br />
-
-<small>ON</small></div>
-
-<div class="adtitle2">THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY.</div>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>‘The reader who wants to satisfy himself as to the value of this book, and the
-novelty which its teaching possesses, need not go beyond the first chapter, on “The
-Boiling of Water.” But if he reads this he certainly will go further, and will probably
-begin to think how he can induce his cook to assimilate some of the valuable
-lessons which Mr. Williams gives. If he can succeed in that he will have done a
-very good day’s work for his health and house.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. About the economical value of
-the book there can be no doubt.’—<span class="smcap">Spectator.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Will be welcomed by all who wish to see the subject of the preparation of food
-reduced to a science.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Perspicuously and pleasantly Mr. Williams explains the
-why and the wherefore of each successive step in any given piece of culinary work.
-Every mistress of a household who wishes to raise her cook above the level of a mere
-automaton will purchase two copies of Mr. Williams’s excellent book—the one for
-the kitchen, and the other for her own careful and studious perusal.’—<span class="smcap">Knowledge.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Thoroughly readable, full of interest, with enough of the author’s personality
-to give a piquancy to the stories told.’—<span class="smcap">Westminster Review.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Mr. Williams is a good chemist and a pleasant writer: he has evidently been
-a keen observer of dietaries in various countries, and his little book contains much
-that is worth reading.’—<span class="smcap">Athenæum.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘There is plenty of room for this excellent book by Mr. Mattieu Williams.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
-There are few conductors of cookery classes who are so thoroughly grounded in the
-science of the subject that they will not find many valuable hints in Mr. Williams’s
-pages.’—<span class="smcap">Scotsman.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Throughout the work we find the signs of care and thoughtful investigation.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
-Mr. Williams has managed most judiciously to compress into a very small compass
-a vast amount of authoritative information on the subject of food and feeding
-generally—and the volume is really quite a compendium of its subject.’—<span class="smcap">Food.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘The British cook might derive a good many useful hints from Mr. Williams’s
-latest book.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The author of “The Chemistry of Cookery” has produced a very
-interesting work. We heartily recommend it to theorists, to people who cook for
-themselves, and to all who are anxious to spread abroad enlightened ideas upon
-a most important subject.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Hereafter, cookery will be regarded, even in this
-island, as a high art and science. We may not live to those delightful days; but
-when they come, and the degree of Master of Cookery is granted to qualified
-candidates, the “Chemistry of Cookery” will be a text-book in the schools, and the
-bust of Mr. Mattieu Williams will stand side by side with that of Count Rumford
-upon every properly-appointed kitchen dresser.’—<span class="smcap">Pall Mall Gazette.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Housekeepers who wish to be fully informed as to the nature of successful
-culinary operations should read “The Chemistry of Cookery.”’—<span class="smcap">Christian World.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘In all the nineteen chapters into which the work is divided there is much both
-to interest and to instruct the general reader, while deserving the attention of the
-“dietetic reformer.” .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The author has made almost a life-long study of the
-subject.’—<span class="smcap">English Mechanic.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></span></p>
-</div>
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-
-<div class="center"><i>OTHER WORKS BY MR. MATTIEU WILLIAMS.</i><br /><br />
-
-Crown 8vo. cloth extra, 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></div>
-
-<div class="adtitle2">SCIENCE IN SHORT CHAPTERS.</div>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>‘Few writers on popular science know better how to steer a middle course
-between the Scylla of technical abstruseness and the Charybdis of empty frivolity
-than Mr. Mattieu Williams. He writes for intelligent people who are not technically
-scientific, and he expects them to understand what he tells them when he has explained
-it to them in his perfectly lucid fashion without any of the embellishments,
-in very doubtful taste, which usually pass for popularisation. The papers are not
-mere réchauffés of common knowledge. Almost all of them are marked by original
-thought, and many of them contain demonstrations or aperçus of considerable
-scientific value.’—<span class="smcap">Pall Mall Gazette.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘There are few writers on the subjects which Mr. Williams selects whose fertility
-and originality are equal to his own. We read all he has to say with pleasure, and
-very rarely without profit.’—<span class="smcap">Science Gossip.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Mr. Mattieu Williams is undoubtedly able to present scientific subjects to the
-popular mind with much clearness and force: and these essays may be read with
-advantage by those, who, without having had special training, are yet sufficiently
-intelligent to take interest in the movement of events in the scientific world.’—<span class="smcap">Academy.</span></p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="center"><br />Crown 8vo. cloth limp, 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></div>
-
-<div class="adtitle2">A SIMPLE TREATISE ON HEAT.</div>
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>‘This is an unpretending little work, put forth for the purpose of expounding, in
-simple style, the phenomena and laws of heat. No strength is vainly spent in
-endeavouring to present a mathematical view of the subject. The Author passes
-over the ordinary range of matter to be found in most elementary treatises on heat,
-and enlarges upon the applications of the principles of his science—a subject which
-is naturally attractive to the uninitiated. Mr. Williams’s object has been well carried
-out, and his little book may be recommended to those who care to study this interesting
-branch of physics.’—<span class="smcap">Popular Science Review.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘We can recommend this treatise as equally exact in the information it imparts,
-and pleasant in the mode of imparting it. It is neither dry nor technical, but suited
-in all respects to the use of intelligent learners.’—<span class="smcap">Tablet.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Decidedly a success. The language is as simple as possible, consistently with
-scientific soundness, and the copiousness of illustration with which Mr. Williams’s
-pages abound, derived from domestic life and from the commonest operations of
-nature, will commend this book to the ordinary reader as well as to the young
-student of science.’—<span class="smcap">Academy.</span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="center">
-London : CHATTO &amp; WINDUS, Piccadilly, W.<br />
-<br />
-——————————<br />
-<br />
-Demy 8vo. cloth extra, price 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></div>
-
-<div class="adtitle2">THE FUEL OF THE SUN.</div>
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>‘The work is well deserving of careful study, especially by the astronomer, too
-apt to forgot the teachings of other sciences than his own.’—<span class="smcap">Fraser’s Magazine.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘It is characterised throughout by a carefulness of thought and an originality
-that command respect, while it is based upon observed facts and not upon mere
-fanciful theory.’—<span class="smcap">Engineering.</span></p>
-
-<p>‘Mr. Williams’s interesting and valuable work called “The Fuel of the Sun.”’—<span class="smcap">Popular Science Review.</span></p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="center">
-London: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, &amp; CO.<br />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="maintitle">THE<br />
-<span class="smcap">CHEMISTRY of COOKERY</span></div>
-
-
-<div class="center"><br /><br />
-<small>BY</small><br />
-<span class="author">W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS</span><br />
-<span class="authorof">AUTHOR OF ‘THE FUEL OF THE SUN’ ‘SCIENCE IN SHORT CHAPTERS’<br />
-‘A SIMPLE TREATISE ON HEAT’ ETC.</span><br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 202px;">
-<img src="images/emblem.jpg" width="202" height="223" alt="emblem" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="center"><br /><br />
-<i>SECOND EDITION</i><br />
-<br />
-<b>London</b><br />
-CHATTO &amp; WINDUS, PICCADILLY<br />
-1892<br />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="copyright">
-PRINTED BY<br />
-SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br />
-LONDON<br />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE">PREFACE.</a></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">During</span> the infancy of the Birmingham and Midland
-Institute, when my classes in Cannon Street constituted
-the whole of its teaching machinery, I delivered a course
-of lectures to ladies on ‘Household Philosophy,’ in
-which ‘The Chemistry of Cookery’ was included. In
-collecting material for these lectures, I was surprised at
-the strange neglect of the subject by modern chemists.</p>
-
-<p>On taking it up again, after an interval of nearly
-thirty years, I find that (excepting the chemistry of
-wine cookery), absolutely nothing further, worthy of the
-name of research, has in the meantime been brought to
-bear upon it.</p>
-
-<p>This explanation is demanded as an apology for
-what some may consider the egotism that permeates this
-little work. I have been continually compelled to put
-forth my own explanations of familiar phenomena, my
-own speculations, concerning the changes effected by
-cookery, and my own small contributions to the experimental
-investigation of the subject.</p>
-
-<p>Under these difficult circumstances I have endeavoured
-to place before the reader a simple and readable
-account of what is known of ‘The Chemistry of Cookery,’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span>
-explaining technicalities as they occur, rather than abstaining
-from the use of them by means of cumbrous
-circumlocution or patronising baby-talk.</p>
-
-<p>With a moderate effort of attention, any unlearned
-but intelligent reader of either sex may understand all
-the contents of these chapters; and I venture to anticipate
-that scientific chemists may find in them some
-suggestive matter.</p>
-
-<p>If these expectations are justified by results, this
-preliminary essay will fulfil its double object. It will
-diffuse a knowledge of what is at present knowable of
-‘The Chemistry of Cookery’ among those who greatly
-need it, and will contribute to the extension of such
-knowledge by opening a wide and very promising
-field of scientific research.</p>
-
-<p>I should add that the work is based on a series of
-papers that appeared in ‘Knowledge’ during the years
-1883 and 1884.</p>
-
-<div class="sig">
-W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS.<br />
-</div>
-
-<div class="unindent">
-<span class="smcap"><small>Stonebridge Park, London, N.W.</small></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 6em;"><i><small>March 1885.</small></i></span><br />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</a></h2>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="contents">
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="2"><small>CHAPTER</small></td>
-<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">I.</td>
-<td align="left">INTRODUCTORY</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">II.</td>
-<td align="left">THE BOILING OF WATER</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">III.</td>
-<td align="left">ALBUMEN</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">IV.</td>
-<td align="left">GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">V.</td>
-<td align="left">ROASTING AND GRILLING</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">VI.</td>
-<td align="left">COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">VII.</td>
-<td align="left">FRYING</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">VIII.</td>
-<td align="left">STEWING</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">IX.</td>
-<td align="left">CHEESE</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">X.</td>
-<td align="left">FAT—MILK</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XI.</td>
-<td align="left">THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XII.</td>
-<td align="left">GLUTEN—BREAD</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XIII.</td>
-<td align="left">VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XIV.</td>
-<td align="left">COUNT RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XV.</td>
-<td align="left">COUNT RUMFORD’S SUBSTITUTE FOR TEA AND COFFEE</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XVI.</td>
-<td align="left">THE COOKERY OF WINE</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XVII.</td>
-<td align="left">THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XVIII.</td>
-<td align="left">MALTED FOOD</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="right">XIX.</td>
-<td align="left">THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">INDEX</td>
-<td align="right"><a href="#Page_325">325</a></td>
-</tr>
-
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a><br /><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="maintitle">THE<br />
-CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY.</div>
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a><br />
-
-<small>INTRODUCTORY.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">The</span> philosopher who first perceived and announced the
-fact that all the physical doings of man consist simply
-in changing the places of things, made a very profound
-generalisation, and one that is worthy of more serious
-consideration than it has received.</p>
-
-<p>All our handicraft, however great may be the skill
-employed, amounts to no more than this. The miner
-moves the ore and the fuel from their subterranean
-resting-places, then they are moved into the furnace,
-and by another moving of combustibles the working of
-the furnace is started; then the metals are moved to the
-foundries and forges, then under hammers, or squeezers,
-or into melting-pots, and thence to moulds. The workman
-shapes the bars, or plates, or castings by removing
-a part of their substance, and by more and more movings
-of material produces the engine, which does its work
-when fuel and water are moved into its fireplace and
-boiler.</p>
-
-<p>The statue is within the rough block of marble; the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>
-sculptor merely moves away the outer portions, and
-thereby renders his artistic conception visible to his
-fellow-men.</p>
-
-<p>The agriculturist merely moves the soil in order that
-it may receive the seed, which he then moves into it,
-and when the growth is completed, he moves the result,
-and thereby makes his harvest.</p>
-
-<p>The same may be said of every other operation.
-Man alters the position of physical things in such wise
-that the forces of Nature shall operate upon them, and
-produce the changes or other results that he requires.</p>
-
-<p>My reasons for this introductory digression will be
-easily understood, as this view of the doings of man and
-the doings of Nature displays fundamentally the business
-of human education, so far as the physical proceedings
-and physical welfare of mankind are concerned.</p>
-
-<p>It clearly points out two well-marked natural divisions
-of such education—education or training in the
-movements to be made, and education in a knowledge
-of the consequences of such movements—<i>i.e.</i> in a knowledge
-of the forces of Nature which actually do the work
-when man has suitably arranged the materials.</p>
-
-<p>The education ordinarily given to apprentices in the
-workshop, or the field, or the studio—or, as relating to
-my present subject, the kitchen—is the first of these,
-the second and equally necessary being simply and
-purely the teaching of physical science as applied to the
-arts.</p>
-
-<p>I cannot proceed any further without a protest
-against a very general (so far as this country is concerned)
-misuse of a now very popular term, a misuse
-that is rather surprising, seeing that it is accepted by
-scholars who have devoted the best of their intellectual
-efforts to the study of words. I refer to the word<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
-<i>technical</i> as applied in the designation ‘technical education.’</p>
-
-<p>So long as our workshops are separated from our
-science schools and colleges, it is most desirable, in order
-to avoid continual circumlocution, to have terms that
-shall properly distinguish between the work of the two,
-and admit of definite and consistent use. The two
-words are ready at hand, and, although of Greek origin,
-have become, by analogous usage, plain simple English.
-I mean the words <i>technical</i> and <i>technological</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The Greek noun <i>techne</i> signifies an art, trade, or profession,
-and our established usage of this root is in
-accordance with its signification. Therefore, ‘technical
-education’ is a suitable and proper designation of the
-training which is given to apprentices, &amp;c., in the strictly
-technical details of their trades, arts, or professions—<i>i.e.</i>
-in the skilful moving of things. When we require a
-name for the science or the philosophy of anything, we
-obtain it by using the Greek root <i>logos</i>, and appending
-it in English form to the Greek name of the general
-subject, as geology, the science of the earth; anthropology,
-the science of man; biology, the science of
-life, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>Why not then follow this general usage, and adopt
-‘technology’ as the science of trades, arts, or professions,
-and thereby obtain consistent and convenient terms to
-designate the two divisions of education—technical
-education, that given in the workshop, &amp;c., and technological
-education, that which <i>should be</i> given as supplementary
-to all such technical education?</p>
-
-<p>In accordance with this, the present work will be
-a contribution to the technology of cookery, or to the
-technological education of cooks, whose technical education
-is quite beyond my reach.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The kitchen is a chemical laboratory in which are
-conducted a number of chemical processes by which our
-food is converted from its crude state to a condition
-more suitable for digestion and nutrition, and made
-more agreeable to the palate.</p>
-
-<p>It is the <i>rationale</i> or <i>ology</i> of these processes that I
-shall endeavour to explain; but at the outset it is only
-fair to say that in many instances I shall not succeed
-in doing this satisfactorily, as there still remain some
-kitchen mysteries that have not yet come within the
-firm grasp of science. The <i>whole</i> story of the chemical
-differences between a roast, a boiled, and a raw leg of
-mutton has not yet been told. You and I, gentle reader,
-aided by no other apparatus than a knife and fork, can
-easily detect the difference between a cut out of the
-saddle of a three-year-old Southdown and one from a
-ten-months-old meadow-fed Leicester, but the chemist in
-his laboratory, with all his reagents, test-tubes, beakers,
-combustion-tubes, potash-bulbs, &amp;c. &amp;c., and his balance
-turning to one-thousandth of a grain, cannot physically
-demonstrate the sources of these differences of flavour.</p>
-
-<p>Still I hope to show that modern chemistry can
-throw into the kitchen a great deal of light that shall
-not merely help the cook in doing his or her work more
-efficiently, but shall also elevate both the work and the
-worker, and render the kitchen far more interesting to all
-intelligent people who have an appetite for knowledge,
-as well as for food; more so than it can be while the
-cook is groping in rule-of-thumb darkness—is merely a
-technical operator unenlightened by technological intelligence.</p>
-
-<p>In the course of these papers I shall draw largely on
-the practical and philosophical work of that remarkable
-man, Benjamin Thompson, the Massachusetts ’prentice-boy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
-and schoolmaster; afterwards the British soldier
-and diplomatist, Colonel Sir Benjamin Thompson; then
-Colonel of Horse and General Aide-de-Camp of the
-Elector Charles Theodore of Bavaria; then Major-General
-of Cavalry, Privy Councillor of State and head
-of War Department of Bavaria; then Count Rumford
-of the Holy Roman Empire and Order of the White
-Eagle; then Military Dictator of Bavaria, with full
-governing powers during the absence of the Elector;
-then a private resident in Brompton Road, and founder
-of the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street; then a
-Parisian <i>citoyen</i>, the husband of the ‘Goddess of Reason,’
-the widow of Lavoisier; but, above all, a practical and
-scientific cook, whose exploits in economic cookery are
-still but very imperfectly appreciated, though he himself
-evidently regarded them as the most important of all his
-varied achievements.</p>
-
-<p>His faith in cookery is well expressed in the following,
-where he is speaking of his experiments in feeding
-the Bavarian army and the poor of Munich. He says:</p>
-
-<p>‘I constantly found that the richness or quality of a
-soup depended more upon the proper choice of the
-ingredients, and a proper management of the fire in the
-combination of these ingredients, than upon the quantity
-of solid nutritious matter employed; much more upon
-the art and skill of the cook than upon the sums laid
-out in the market.’</p>
-
-<p>A great many fallacies are continually perpetrated,
-not only by ignorant people, but even by eminent
-chemists and physiologists, by inattention to what is
-indicated in this passage. In many chemical and physiological
-works may be found elaborately minute tables of
-the chemical composition of certain articles of food, and
-with these the assumption (either directly stated or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
-implied as a matter of course) that such tables represent
-the practical nutritive value of the food. The illusory
-character of such assumption is easily understood. In
-the first place the analysis is usually that of the article
-of food in its raw state, and thus all the chemical
-changes involved in the process of cookery are ignored.</p>
-
-<p>Secondly, the difficulty or facility of assimilation is
-too often unheeded. This depends both upon the original
-condition of the food and the changes which the cookery
-has produced—changes which may double its nutritive
-value without effecting more than a small percentage of
-alteration in its chemical composition as revealed by
-laboratory analysis.</p>
-
-<p>In the recent discussion on whole-meal bread, for
-example, chemical analyses of the bran, &amp;c., are quoted,
-and it is commonly assumed that if these can be shown
-to contain more of the theoretical bone-making or brain-making
-elements, that they are, therefore, in reference to
-these requirements, more nutritious than the fine flour.
-But before we are justified in asserting this, it must be
-made clear that these outer and usually rejected portions
-of the grain are as easily digested and assimilated as the
-finer inner flour.</p>
-
-<p>I think I shall be able to show that the practical
-failure of this whole-meal bread movement (which is not
-a novelty, but only a revival) is mainly due to the disregard
-of the cookery question; that whole-meal prepared
-as bread by simple baking is less nutritious than
-fine flour similarly prepared; but that whole-meal otherwise
-prepared may be, and has been, made more nutritious
-than fine white bread.</p>
-
-<p>Another preliminary example. A pound of biscuit
-contains more solid nutritive matter than a pound of
-beefsteak, but may not, when eaten by ordinary mortals,
-do so much nutritive work. Why is this?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>It is a matter of preparation—not exactly what is
-called cooking, but equivalent to what cooking should
-be. It is the preparation which has converted the grass
-food of the ox into another kind of food which we can
-assimilate very easily.</p>
-
-<p>The fact that we use the digestive and nutrient
-apparatus of sheep, oxen, &amp;c., for the preparation of our
-food, is merely a transitory barbarism, to be ultimately
-superseded when my present subject is sufficiently understood
-and applied to enable us to prepare the constituents
-of the vegetable kingdom in such a manner
-that they shall be as easily assimilated as the prepared
-grass which we call beef and mutton, and which we now
-use only on account of our ignorance of the subject
-treated in the following chapters. I do not presume to
-assert or suggest that my efforts towards the removal of
-this ignorance will transport us at once into a vegetarian
-millennium, but if they only open the gate and show
-us that there is a road on which we may travel towards
-great improvements in the preparation of our food
-as regards flavour, economy, and wholesomeness, my
-reasonable readers will not be disappointed.</p>
-
-<p>So much of cookery being effected by the application
-of heat, a sketch of the general laws of heat might
-be included in this introductory chapter, but for the
-necessary extent of the subject.</p>
-
-<p>I omit it without compunction, having already
-written ‘A Simple Treatise on Heat,’ which is divested
-of technical difficulties by presenting simply the phenomena
-and laws of Nature without any artificial scholastic
-complications. Messrs. Chatto &amp; Windus have brought
-out this little essay in a cheap form, and, in spite of the
-risk of being accused of puffing my own wares, I recommend
-its perusal to those who are earnestly studying
-the whole philosophy of cookery.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a><br />
-
-<small>THE BOILING OF WATER.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">As</span> this is one of the most rudimentary of the operations
-of cookery, and the most frequently performed, it
-naturally takes a first place in treating the subject.</p>
-
-<p>Water is boiled in the kitchen for two distinct
-purposes: 1st, for the cooking of itself; 2nd, for the
-cooking of other things. A dissertation on the difference
-between raw water and cooked water may appear
-pedantic, but, as I shall presently show, it is considerable,
-very practical, and important.</p>
-
-<p>The best way to study any physical subject is to
-examine it experimentally, but this is not always possible
-with everyday means. In this case, however, there
-is no difficulty.</p>
-
-<p>Take a thin<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> glass vessel, such as a flask, or, better,
-one of the ‘beakers,’ or thin tumbler-shaped vessels, so
-largely used in chemical laboratories; partially fill it
-with ordinary household water, and then place it over
-the flame of a spirit-lamp, or Bunsen’s, or other smokeless
-gas-burner. Carefully watch the result, and the
-following will be observed: first of all, little bubbles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
-will be formed, adhering to the sides of the glass, but
-ultimately rising to the surface, and there becoming
-dissipated by diffusion in the air.</p>
-
-<p>This is not boiling, as may be proved by trying the
-temperature with the finger. What, then, is it?</p>
-
-<p>It is the yielding back of the atmospheric gases
-which the water has dissolved or condensed within
-itself. These bubbles have been collected, and by
-analysis proved to consist of oxygen, nitrogen, and
-carbonic acid, obtained from the air; but in the water
-they exist by no means in the same proportions as
-originally in the air, nor in constant proportions in
-different samples of water. I need not here go into
-the quantitative details of these proportions, nor the reasons
-of their variation, though they are very interesting
-subjects.</p>
-
-<p>Proceeding with our investigation, we shall find that
-the bubbles continue to form and rise until the water
-becomes too hot for the finger to bear immersion. At
-about this stage something else begins to occur. Much
-larger bubbles, or rather blisters, are now formed on the
-bottom of the vessel, immediately over the flame, and
-they continually collapse into apparent nothingness.
-Even at this stage a thermometer immersed in the
-water will show that the boiling-point is not reached.
-As the temperature rises, these blisters rise higher and
-higher, become more and more nearly spherical, finally
-quite so, then detach themselves and rise towards the
-surface; but the first that make this venture perish
-in the attempt—they gradually collapse as they rise,
-and vanish before reaching the surface. The thermometer
-now shows that the boiling-point is nearly
-reached, but not quite. Presently the bubbles rise
-completely to the surface and break there. Now the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
-water is boiling, and the thermometer stands at 212°
-Fahr. or 100° Cent.</p>
-
-<p>With the aid of suitable apparatus it can be shown
-that the atmospheric gases above named continue to
-be given off along with the steam for a considerable
-time after the boiling has commenced; the complete
-removal of their last traces being a very difficult, if not
-an impossible, physical problem.</p>
-
-<p>After a moderate period of boiling, however, we
-may practically regard the water as free from these
-gases. In this condition I venture to call it cooked
-water. Our experiment so far indicates one of the
-differences between cooked and raw water. The cooked
-water has been deprived of the atmospheric gases that
-the raw water contained. By cooling some of the
-cooked water and tasting it, the difference of flavour
-is very perceptible; by no means improved, though it
-is quite possible to acquire a preference for this flat,
-tasteless liquid.</p>
-
-<p>If a fish be placed in such cooked water it swims for
-a while with its mouth at the surface, for just there is
-a film that is reacquiring its charge of oxygen, &amp;c., by
-absorbing it from the air; but this film is so thin, and
-so poorly charged, that after a short struggle the fish dies
-for lack of oxygen in its blood; drowned as truly and
-completely as an air-breathing animal when immersed
-in any kind of water.</p>
-
-<p>Spring water and river water that have passed
-through or over considerable distances in calcareous
-districts suffer another change in boiling. The origin
-and nature of this change may be shown by another
-experiment as follows: Buy a pennyworth of lime-water
-from a druggist, and procure a small glass tube
-of about quill size, or the stem of a fresh tobacco-pipe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
-may be used. Half fill a small wine-glass with the
-lime-water, and blow through it by means of the tube
-or tobacco-pipe. Presently it will become turbid. Continue
-the blowing, and the turbidity will increase up
-to a certain degree of milkiness. Go on blowing with
-‘commendable perseverance,’ and an inversion of effect
-will follow; the turbidity diminishes, and at last the
-water becomes clear again.</p>
-
-<p>The chemistry of this is simple enough. From the
-lungs a mixture of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbonic acid
-is exhaled. The carbonic acid combines with the
-soluble lime, and forms a carbonate of lime which is
-insoluble in mere water. But this carbonate of lime
-is to a certain extent soluble in water saturated with
-carbonic acid, and such saturation is effected by the
-continuation of blowing.</p>
-
-<p>Now take some of the lime-water that has been thus
-treated, place it in a clean glass flask, and boil it. After
-a short time the flask will be found incrusted with a
-thin film of something. This is the carbonate of lime
-which has been thrown down again by the action of
-boiling, which has driven off its solvent, the carbonic
-acid. This crust will effervesce if a little acid is added
-to it.</p>
-
-<p>In this manner our tea-kettles, engine-boilers, &amp;c.,
-become incrusted when fed with calcareous waters, and
-most waters are calcareous; those supplied to London,
-which is surrounded by chalk, are largely so. Thus,
-the boiling or cooking of such water effects a removal
-of its mineral impurities more or less completely. Other
-waters contain such mineral matter as salts of sodium
-and potassium. These are not removable by mere
-boiling, being equally soluble in hot or cold, aerated, or
-non-aerated water.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Usually we have no very strong motive for removing
-either these or the dissolved carbonate of lime, or the
-atmospheric gases from water, but there is another
-class of impurities of serious importance. These are
-the organic matters dissolved in all water that has run
-over land covered with vegetable growth, or, more
-especially, that which has received contributions from
-sewers or any other form of house drainage. Such
-water supplies nutriment to those microscopic abominations,
-the <i>micrococci</i>, <i>bacilli</i>, <i>bacteria</i>, &amp;c., which are now
-shown to be connected with blood poisoning. These
-little pests are harmless, and probably nutritious, when
-cooked, but in their raw and growing state are horribly
-prolific in the blood of people who are in certain states
-of what is called ‘receptivity.’ They (the bacteria, &amp;c.)
-appear to be poisoned or somehow killed off by the
-digestive secretions of the blood of some people, and
-nourished luxuriantly in the blood of others. As nobody
-can be quite sure to which class he belongs, or may
-presently belong, or whether the water supplied to his
-household is free from blood-poisoning organisms, cooked
-water is a safer beverage than raw water. I should add
-that this germ theory of disease is disputed by some
-who maintain that the source of the diseases attributed
-to such microbia is chemical poison, the microbia (<i>i.e.</i>
-little living things) are merely accidental, or creatures
-fed on the disease-producing poison. In either case
-the boiling is effectual, as such organic poisons when
-cooked lose their original virulent properties.</p>
-
-<p>The requirement for this simple operation of cooking
-increases with the density of our population, which, on
-reaching a certain degree, renders the pollution of all
-water obtained from the ordinary sources almost inevitable.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Reflecting on this subject, I have been struck with a
-curious fact that has hitherto escaped notice, viz. that
-in the country which over all others combines a very
-large population with a very small allowance of cleanliness,
-the ordinary drink of the people is boiled water,
-flavoured by an infusion of leaves. These people, the
-Chinese, seem in fact to have been the inventors of
-boiled-water beverages. Judging from travellers’ accounts
-of the state of the rivers, rivulets, and general
-drainage and irrigation arrangements of China, its
-population could scarcely have reached its present
-density if Chinamen were drinkers of raw instead of
-cooked water. This is especially remarkable in the case
-of such places as Canton, where large numbers are
-living afloat on the mouths of sewage-laden rivers or
-estuaries.</p>
-
-<p>The ordinary everyday domestic beverage is a weak
-infusion of tea, made in a large teapot, kept in a padded
-basket to retain the heat. The whole family is supplied
-from this reservoir. The very poorest drink plain hot
-water, or water tinged by infusing the spent tea-leaves
-rejected by their richer neighbours.</p>
-
-<p>Next to the boiling of water for its own sake, comes
-the boiling of water as a medium for the cooking of
-other things. Here, at the outset, I have to correct an
-error of language which, as too often happens, leads by
-continual suggestion to false ideas. When we speak of
-‘boiled beef,’ ‘boiled mutton,’ ‘boiled eggs,’ ‘boiled
-potatoes,’ we talk nonsense; we are not merely using
-an elliptical expression, as when we say, ‘the kettle
-boils,’ which we all understand to mean the contents
-of the kettle, but we are expounding a false theory of
-what has happened to the beef, &amp;c.—as false as though
-we should describe the material of the kettle that has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
-held boiling water as boiled copper or boiled iron. No
-boiling of the food takes place in any such cases as the
-above-named—it is merely heated by immersion in
-boiling water; the changes that actually take place in
-the food are essentially different from those of ebullition.
-Even the water contained in the meat is not
-boiled in ordinary cases, as its boiling-point is higher
-than that of the surrounding water, owing to the salts
-it holds in solution.</p>
-
-<p>Thus, as a matter of chemical fact, a ‘boiled leg of
-mutton’ is one that has been cooked, but not boiled;
-while a roasted leg of mutton is one that has been partially
-boiled. Much of the constituent water of flesh is
-boiled out, fairly driven away as vapour during roasting
-or baking, and the fat on its surface is also boiled, and,
-more or less, dissociated into its chemical elements, carbon
-and water, as shown by the browning, due to the
-separated carbon.</p>
-
-<p>As I shall presently show, this verbal explanation is
-no mere verbal quibble, but it involves important practical
-applications. An enormous waste of precious fuel
-is perpetrated every day, throughout the whole length
-and breadth of Britain and other countries where English
-cookery prevails, on account of the almost universal
-ignorance of the philosophy of the so-called boiling of
-food.</p>
-
-<p>When it is once fairly understood that the meat is
-not to be boiled, but is merely to be warmed by immersion
-in water raised to a maximum temperature of 212°,
-and when it is further understood that water cannot
-(under ordinary atmospheric pressure) be raised to a
-higher temperature than 212° by any amount of violent
-boiling, the popular distinction between ‘simmering’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
-and boiling, which is so obstinately maintained as a
-kitchen superstition, is demolished.</p>
-
-<p>The experiment described on <a href="#Page_8">pages 8 and 9</a> showed
-that immediately the bubbles of steam reach the surface
-of the water and break there—that is, when simmering
-commences—the thermometer reaches the boiling-point,
-and that however violently the boiling may afterwards
-occur, the thermometer rises no higher. Therefore, as
-a medium for heating the substances to be cooked, simmering
-water is just as effective as ‘walloping’ water.
-There are exceptional operations of cookery, wherein
-useful mechanical work is done by violent boiling; but
-in all ordinary cookery simmering is just as effective.
-The heat that is applied to do more than the smallest
-degree of simmering is simply wasted in converting
-water into useless steam. The amount of such waste
-may be easily estimated. To raise a given quantity of
-water from the freezing to the boiling point demands
-an amount of heat represented by 180° in Fahrenheit’s
-thermometer, or 100° Centigrade. To convert this into
-steam, 990° Fahr. or 550° Cent. is necessary—just five-and-a-half
-times as much.</p>
-
-<p>On a properly-constructed hot-plate or sand-bath a
-dozen saucepans may be kept at the true cooking temperature,
-with an expenditure of fuel commonly employed
-in England to ‘boil’ one saucepan. In the great
-majority of so-called boiling operations, even simmering
-is unnecessary. Not only is a ‘boiled leg of mutton’ not
-itself boiled, but even the water in which it is cooked
-should not be kept boiling, as we shall presently see.</p>
-
-<p>The following, written by Count Rumford nearly
-100 years ago, remains applicable at the present time, in
-spite of all our modern research and science teaching:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>‘The process by which food is most commonly prepared
-for the table—<span class="smcap">Boiling</span>—is so familiar to everyone,
-and its effects are so uniform and apparently so
-simple, that few, I believe, have taken the trouble to
-inquire <i>how</i> or in <i>what manner</i> these effects are produced;
-and whether any and what improvements in
-that branch of cookery are possible. So little has this
-matter been an object of inquiry that few, very few indeed
-I believe, among the <i>millions of persons</i> who for
-so many ages have been <i>daily</i> employed in this process,
-have ever given themselves the trouble to bestow one
-serious thought upon the subject.</p>
-
-<p>‘The cook knows <i>from experience</i> that if his joint of
-meat be kept a certain time immersed in boiling water
-it will be <i>done</i>, as it is called in the language of the
-kitchen; but if he be asked what is done to it, or <i>how</i>
-or <i>by what agency</i> the change it has undergone has been
-effected—if he understands the question—it is ten to
-one but he will be embarrassed. If he does not understand
-he will probably answer without hesitation, that
-“<i>The meat is made tender and eatable by being boiled</i>.”
-Ask him if the boiling of the water be essential to the
-process. He will answer, “<i>Without doubt</i>.” Push him
-a little further by asking him whether, <i>were it possible</i> to
-keep the water <i>equally hot</i> without boiling, the meat
-would not be cooked <i>as soon</i> and <i>as well</i> as if the water
-were made to boil. Here it is probable he will make
-the first step towards acquiring knowledge by <i>learning to
-doubt</i>.’</p>
-
-<p>In another place he points to the fact that at Munich,
-where his chief cookery operations were performed,
-water boils at 209½° (on account of its elevation),
-while in London the boiling-point is 212°. ‘Yet nobody,
-I believe, ever perceived that boiled meat was less done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
-at Munich than at London. But if meat may without
-the least difficulty be cooked with a heat of 209½° at
-Munich, why should it not be possible to cook it with
-the same degree of heat in London? If this can be
-done in London (which I think can hardly admit of a
-doubt), then it is evident that the process of cookery,
-which is called <i>boiling</i>, may be performed in water which
-is not boiling hot.’</p>
-
-<p>He proceeds to say, ‘I well know, from my own experience,
-how difficult it is to persuade cooks of this
-truth, but it is so important that no pains should be
-spared in endeavouring to remove their prejudices and
-enlighten their understandings. This may be done most
-effectually in the case before us by a method I have
-several times put in practice with complete success. It
-is as follows: Take two equal boilers, containing equal
-quantities of <i>boiling hot water</i>, and put into them two
-equal pieces of meat taken from the same carcase—two
-legs of mutton, for instance—and boil them during the
-same time. Under one of the boilers make a <i>small fire</i>,
-just barely sufficient to keep the water <i>boiling hot</i>, or
-rather just <i>beginning to boil;</i> under the other make <i>as
-vehement a fire as possible</i>, and keep the water boiling
-the whole time with the utmost violence. The meat in
-the boiler in which the water has been kept <i>only just
-boiling hot</i> will be found to be quite as well done as that
-in the other. It will even be found to be much better
-cooked, that is to say tenderer, more juicy, and much
-higher flavoured.’</p>
-
-<p>Rumford at this date (1802) understood perfectly
-that the water just boiling hot had the same temperature
-as that which was boiling with the utmost violence, but
-did not understand that the best result is obtained at a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
-much lower temperature, for in another place he states
-that if the meat be cooked in water under pressure, so
-that the temperature shall exceed 212°, it will be done
-proportionally quicker and as well. My reasons for
-controverting this will be explained in the following
-chapters.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a><br />
-
-<small>ALBUMEN.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">In</span> order to illustrate some of the changes which take
-place in the cooking of animal food, I will first take the
-simple case of cooking an egg by means of hot water.
-These changes are in this case easily visible and very
-simple, although the egg itself contains all the materials
-of a complete animal. Bones, muscles, viscera, brain,
-nerves, and feathers of the chicken—all are produced
-from the egg, nothing being added, and little or nothing
-taken away.</p>
-
-<p>I should, however, add that in eating an egg we do
-not get <i>quite</i> so much of it as the chicken does. Liebig
-found by analysis that in the white and the yolk there is
-a deficiency of mineral matter for supplying the bones of
-the chick, and that this deficiency is supplied by some of
-the shell being dissolved by the phosphoric acid which
-is formed inside the egg by the combination of the
-oxygen of the air (which passes through the shell) with
-the phosphorus contained in the soft matter of the egg.</p>
-
-<p>By comparing the shell of a hen’s egg after the
-chicken is hatched from it with that of a freshly-laid
-egg, the difference of thickness may be easily seen.</p>
-
-<p>When we open a raw egg, we find enveloped in a
-stoutish membrane a quantity of glairy, slimy, viscous,
-colourless fluid, which, as everybody now knows, is called
-<i>albumen</i>, a Latin translation of its common name, ‘<i>the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
-white</i>.’ Within the white of the egg is the yolk, chiefly
-composed of albumen, but with some other constituents
-added—notably a peculiar oil. At present I will
-only consider the changes which cookery effects on the
-main constituent of the egg, merely adding that this
-same albumen is one of the most important, if not the
-one most important, material of animal food, and is
-represented by a corresponding nutritious constituent
-in vegetables.</p>
-
-<p>We all know that when an egg has been immersed
-during a few minutes in boiling water, the colourless,
-slimy liquid is converted into the white solid to which it
-owes its name. This coagulation of albumen is one of
-the most decided and best understood changes effected
-by cookery, and therefore demands especial study.</p>
-
-<p>Place some fresh, raw white of egg in a test-tube or
-other suitable glass vessel, and in the midst of it immerse
-the bulb of a thermometer. (Cylindrical thermometers,
-with the degrees marked on the glass stem,
-are made for such laboratory purposes.) Place the tube
-containing the albumen in a vessel of water, and gradually
-heat this. When the albumen attains a temperature
-of about 134° Fahr., white fibres will begin to appear
-within it; these will increase until about 160° is attained,
-when the whole mass will become white and
-nearly opaque.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> It is now coagulated, and may be
-called solid. Now examine some of the result, and
-you will find that the albumen thus only just coagulated
-is a tender, delicate, jelly-like substance, having every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
-appearance to sight, touch, and taste of being easily
-digestible. This is the case.</p>
-
-<p>Having settled these points, proceed with the experiment
-by heating the remainder of the albumen (or a
-new sample) up to 212°, and keeping it for awhile at
-this temperature. It will dry, shrink, and become horny.
-If the heat is carried a little further, it becomes converted
-into a substance which is so hard and tough that
-a valuable cement is obtained by simply smearing the
-edges of the article to be cemented with white of egg,
-and then heating it to a little above 212°.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p>
-
-<p>This simple experiment teaches a great deal of what
-is but little known concerning the philosophy of cookery.
-It shows in the first place that, so far as the coagulation
-of the albumen is concerned, the cooking temperature
-is not 212°, or that of boiling water, but 160°, <i>i.e.</i> 52°
-below it. Everybody knows the difference between a
-tender, juicy steak, rounded or plumped out in the
-middle, and a tough, leathery abomination, that has
-been so cooked as to shrivel and curl up. The contraction,
-drying up, and hornifying of the albumen in
-the test tube represents the albumen of the latter, while
-the tender, delicate, trembling, semi-solid that was coagulated
-at 160°, represents the albumen in the first.</p>
-
-<p>But this is a digression, or rather anticipation, seeing
-that the grilling of a beefsteak is a problem of profound
-complexity that we cannot solve until we have mastered
-the rudiments. We have not yet determined how to
-practically apply the laws of albumen coagulation as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
-discovered by our test-tube experiment to the cooking
-of a breakfast egg. The non-professional student may
-do this at the breakfast fireside. The apparatus required
-is a saucepan large enough for boiling a pint of water—the
-materials, two eggs.</p>
-
-<p>Cook one in the orthodox manner by keeping it in
-boiling water three-and-a-half minutes. Then place the
-other in this same boiling water; but, instead of keeping
-the saucepan over the fire, place it on the hearth and
-leave it there, with the egg in it, about ten minutes or
-more. A still better way of making the comparative
-experiment is to use, for the second egg, a water-bath,
-or <i>bain-marie</i> of the French cook—a vessel immersed in
-boiling, or nearly boiling water, like a glue-pot, and
-therefore not quite so hot as its source of heat. In this
-case a thermometer should be used, and the water
-surrounding the egg be kept at or near 180° Fahr.
-Time of immersion about ten or twelve minutes.</p>
-
-<p>A comparison of results will show that the egg that
-has been cooked at a temperature of more than 30°
-below the boiling-point of water is tender and delicate,
-evenly so throughout, no part being hard while another
-part is semi-raw and slimy.</p>
-
-<p>I said ‘ten minutes or more,’ because, when thus
-cooked, a prolonged exposure to the hot water does no
-mischief; if the temperature of 160° is not exceeded, it
-may remain twice as long without hardening. The 180°
-is above-named because the rising of the temperature of
-the egg itself is due to the difference between its own
-temperature and that of the water, and when that difference
-is very small, this takes place very slowly, besides
-which the temperature of the water is, of course, lowered
-in raising that of the cold egg.</p>
-
-<p>In order to test this principle severely, I made the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
-following experiment. At 10.30 <small>P.M.</small> I placed a new-laid
-egg in a covered stoneware jar, of about one-pint
-capacity, and filled this with boiling water; then wrapped
-the jar in many folds of flannel—so many that, with the
-egg, they filled a hat-case, in which I placed the bundle
-and left it there until breakfast-time next morning, ten
-hours later. On unrolling, I found the water cooled
-down to 95°; the yolk of the egg was hard, but the
-white only just solidified and much softer than the yolk.
-On repeating the experiment, and leaving the egg in its
-flannel coating for four hours, the temperature of the
-water was 123° and the egg in similar condition—the
-white cooked in perfection, delicately tender, but the
-yolk too hard. A third experiment of twelve hours,
-water at 200° on starting, gave a similar result as regards
-the state of the egg.</p>
-
-<p>I thus found that the yolk coagulates firmly at a
-lower temperature than the white. Whether this is due
-to a different condition of the albumen itself or to the
-action of the other constituents on the albumen, requires
-further research to determine. The albumen of the yolk
-has received the name of ‘vitellin,’ and is usually
-described as another variety differing from that of the
-white, as it is differently affected by chemical reagents;
-but Lehmann<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> regards it as a mixture of albumen and
-casein, and describes experiments which justify his conclusion.
-The difference of the temperature of coagulation
-does not appear to have been observed, and I cannot
-understand how the admixture of casein can effect it.</p>
-
-<p>When eggs are cooked in the ordinary way, the
-3½ minutes’ immersion is insufficient to allow the heat
-to pass fully to the middle of the egg, and therefore the
-white is subjected to a higher temperature than the yolk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
-In my experiment there was time for a practically
-uniform diffusion of the heat throughout.</p>
-
-<p>I shall describe hereafter what is called the ‘Norwegian’
-cooking apparatus, wherein fowls, &amp;c., are
-cooked as the eggs were in my hat-case.</p>
-
-<p>Albumen exists in flesh as one of its juices, rather
-than in a definitely-organised condition. It is distributed
-between the fibres of the lean (<i>i.e.</i> the muscles),
-and it lubricates the tissues generally, besides being an
-important constituent of the blood itself—of that portion
-of the blood which remains liquid when the blood is
-dead—<i>i.e.</i> the serum. As blood is not an ordinary
-article of food, excepting in the form of ‘black puddings,’
-its albumen need not be here considered, nor the debated
-question of whether its albumen is identical with the
-albumen of the flesh.</p>
-
-<p>Existing thus in a liquid state in our ordinary flesh
-meats, it is liable to be wasted in the course of cookery,
-especially if the cook has only received the customary
-technical education and remains in technological ignorance.</p>
-
-<p>To illustrate this, let us suppose that a leg of mutton,
-a slice of cod, or a piece of salmon is to be cooked in
-water, ‘boiled,’ as the cook says. Keeping in mind the
-results of the previously-described experiments on the
-egg-albumen, and also the fact that in its liquid state
-albumen is diffusible in water, the reader may now stand
-as scientific umpire in answering the question whether
-the fish or the flesh should be put in hot water at once,
-or in cold water, and be gradually heated. The ‘big-endians’
-and the ‘little-endians’ of Liliput were not
-more definitely divided than are certain cookery authorities
-on this question in reference to fish. Referring at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
-random to the cookery-books that come first to hand, I
-find them about equally divided on the question.</p>
-
-<p>Confining our attention at present to the albumen,
-what must happen if the fish or flesh is put in cold
-water, which is gradually heated? Obviously a loss of
-albumen by exudation and diffusion through the water,
-especially in the case of sliced fish or of meat exposing
-much surface of fibres cut across. It is also evident that
-such loss of albumen will be shown by its coagulation
-when the water is sufficiently heated.</p>
-
-<p>Practical readers will at once recognise in the ‘scum’
-which rises to the surface of the boiling water, and in the
-milkiness that is more or less diffused throughout it, the
-evidence of such loss of albumen. This loss indicates the
-desirability of plunging the fish or flesh at once into
-water hot enough to immediately coagulate the superficial
-albumen, and thereby plug the pores through which
-the inner albuminous juice otherwise exudes.</p>
-
-<p>But this is not all. There are other juices besides
-the albumen; these are the most important of the <i>flavouring</i>
-constituents, and, <i>with the other constituents of
-animal food</i>, have great nutritive value; so much so, that
-animal food is quite tasteless and almost worthless without
-them. I have laid especial emphasis on the above
-qualification, lest the reader should be led into an error
-originated by the bone-soup committee of the French
-Academy, and propagated widely by Liebig—that of
-regarding these juices as a concentrated nutriment when
-taken alone.</p>
-
-<p>They constitute collectively the <i>extractum carnis</i>,
-which, with the addition of more or less gelatine (the
-less the better), is commonly sold as Liebig’s ‘Extract
-of Meat.’ It is prepared by simply mincing lean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
-meat, exposing it to the action of cold water, and then
-evaporating down the solution of extract thus obtained.</p>
-
-<p>I shall return to this on reaching the subjects of clear
-soups and beef-tea, at present merely adding as evidence
-of the importance of retaining these juices in cooked
-meat, that the extracts of beef, mutton, and pork may
-be distinguished by their specific flavours. Some Extract
-of Kangaroo, sent to me many years ago from Australia
-by the Ramornie Company, made a soup that was curiously
-different in flavour from the other extract similarly
-prepared by the same company. Epicures pronounced it
-very choice and ‘gamey.’<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> When these juices are removed
-from the meat, mutton, beef, pork, &amp;c., the remaining
-solids are all alike, so far as the palate alone can distinguish.</p>
-
-<p>Let us now apply these principles practically to the
-case of a leg of mutton. First, in order to seal the pores,
-the meat should be put into boiling water; the water
-should be kept boiling for five or ten minutes. A coating
-of firmly-coagulated albumen will thus envelop the
-joint. Now, instead of boiling or ‘simmering’ the water,
-set the saucepan aside, where the water will retain a
-temperature of about 180°, or 32° below the boiling-point.
-Continue this about half as long again, or double
-the usual time given in the cookery-books for boiling a
-leg of mutton, and try the effect. It will be analogous
-to that of the egg cooked on the same principles, and
-appreciated accordingly.</p>
-
-<p>The usual addition of salt to the water is very desirable.
-It has a threefold action: first, it directly acts on
-the superficial albumen with coagulating effect; second,
-it slightly raises the boiling-point of the water; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
-third, by increasing the density of the water, the ‘exosmosis’
-or oozing out of the juices is less active. These
-actions are slight, but all co-operate in keeping in the
-juices.</p>
-
-<p>I should add that a leg of mutton for boiling should
-be fresh, and not ‘hung’ as for roasting. The reasons
-for this hereafter.</p>
-
-<p>‘Please, mum, the fish would break to pieces,’ would
-be the probable reply of the unscientific cook, to whom
-her mistress had suggested the desirability of cooking
-fish in accordance with the principles expounded above.
-Many kinds of fish would thus break if the popular
-notions of ‘boiling’ were carried out, and the fish suddenly
-immersed in water that was agitated by the act of
-ebullition. But this difficulty vanishes when the true
-theory of cookery is understood and practically applied
-by cooking the fish from beginning to end without ever
-boiling the water at all.</p>
-
-<p>In the case of the leg of mutton, chosen as a previous
-example, the plunging in boiling water and maintenance
-of boiling-point for a few minutes was unobjectionable,
-as the most effectual means of obtaining the firm coagulation
-of a superficial layer of albumen; but, in the case
-of fragile fish, this advantage can only be obtained in a
-minor degree by using water just below the boiling-point;
-the breaking of the fish by the agitation of the
-boiling water does more than merely disfigure it when
-served—it opens outlets to the juices, and thereby depreciates
-the flavour, besides sacrificing some of the nutritious
-albumen.</p>
-
-<p>To demonstrate this experimentally, take two equal
-slices from the same salmon, cook one according to Mrs.
-Beeton and other authorities by putting it into cold
-water, or pouring cold water over it, then heating up to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
-the boiling-point. Cook the other slice by putting it into
-water nearly boiling (about 200° Fahr.), and keeping it
-at about 180° to 200°, but never boiling at all. Then
-dish up, examine, and taste. The second will be found
-to have retained more of its proper salmon colour and
-flavour; the first will be paler and more like cod, or other
-white fish, owing to the exosmosis or oozing out of its
-characteristic juices. When two similar pieces of split
-salmon are thus cooked, the difference between them is
-still more remarkable. I should add that the practice of
-splitting salmon for boiling, once so fashionable, is now
-nearly obsolete, and justly so.</p>
-
-<p>I was surprised, and at first considerably puzzled, at
-what I saw of salmon-cooking in Norway. As this fish
-is so abundant there (1<i>d.</i> per lb. would be regarded as a
-high price in the Tellemark), I naturally supposed that
-large experience, operating by natural selection, would
-have evolved the best method of cooking it, but found
-that, not only in the farmhouses of the interior, but at
-such hotels as the ‘Victoria,’ in Christiania, the usual
-cookery was effected by cutting the fish into small pieces
-and soddening it in water in such wise that it came to
-table almost colourless, and with merely a faint suggestion
-of what we prize as the rich flavour of salmon. A
-few months’ experience and a little reflection solved the
-problem. Salmon is so rich, and has so special a flavour,
-that when daily eaten it soon palls on the palate. Everybody
-has heard the old story of the clause in the indentures
-of the Aberdeen apprentices, binding the masters
-not to feed the boys on salmon more frequently than
-twice a week. If the story is not true it ought to be, for
-full meals of salmon every day would, ere long, render
-the special flavour of this otherwise delicious fish quite
-sickening.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>By boiling out the rich oil of the salmon, the Norwegian
-reduces it nearly to the condition of cod-fish, concerning
-which I learned a curious fact from two old
-Doggerbank fishermen, with whom I had a long sailing
-cruise from the Golden Horn to the Thames. They
-agreed in stating that cod-fish is like bread, that they
-and all their mates lived upon it (and sea-biscuits) day
-after day for months together, and never tired, while
-richer fish ultimately became repulsive if eaten daily.
-This statement was elicited by an immediate experience.
-We were in the Mediterranean, where bonetta were
-very abundant, and every morning and evening I amused
-myself by spearing them from the martingale of the
-schooner, and so successfully that all hands (or rather
-mouths) were abundantly supplied with this delicious
-dark-fleshed, full-blooded, and high-flavoured fish. I
-began by making three meals a day on it, but at the
-end of about a week was glad to return to the ordinary
-ship’s fare of salt junk and chickens.</p>
-
-<p>The following account of an experiment of Count
-Rumford’s is very interesting and instructive. He says:
-‘I had long suspected that it could hardly be possible
-that precisely the temperature of 212° (that of boiling
-water) should be that which is best adapted for cooking
-<i>all sorts of food;</i> but it was the unexpected result of an
-experiment that I made with another view which made
-me particularly attentive to this subject. Desirous of
-finding out whether it would be possible to roast meat
-on a machine that I had contrived for drying potatoes,
-and fitted up in the kitchen of the House of Industry at
-Munich, I put a shoulder of mutton into it, and after
-attending to the experiment three hours, and finding
-that it showed no signs of being done, I concluded that
-the heat was not sufficiently intense, and despairing of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
-success I went home, rather out of humour at my ill
-success, and abandoned my shoulder of mutton to the
-cookmaids.</p>
-
-<p>‘It being late in the evening and the cookmaids
-thinking, perhaps, that the meat would be as safe in the
-drying machine as anywhere else, left it there all night.
-When they came in the morning to take it away, intending
-to cook it for their dinner, they were much surprised
-at finding it <i>already cooked</i>, and not merely eatable, but
-perfectly well done, and most singularly well tasted.
-This appeared to them the more miraculous, as the fire
-under the machine was quite gone out before they left
-the kitchen in the evening to go to bed, and as they had
-locked up the kitchen when they left it, and taken away
-the key.</p>
-
-<p>‘This wonderful shoulder of mutton was immediately
-brought to me in triumph, and though I was at no great
-loss to account for what had happened, yet it certainly
-was quite unexpected; and when I tasted the meat I
-was very much surprised indeed to find it very different,
-both in taste and flavour, from any I had ever tasted.
-It was perfectly tender; but though it was so much done
-it did not appear to be in the least sodden or insipid;
-on the contrary, it was uncommonly savoury and high
-flavoured.’</p>
-
-<p>What I have already explained concerning the coagulation
-of albumen will render this result fairly intelligible.
-It will be still more so after what follows
-concerning the effect of heat on the other constituents
-of a shoulder of mutton.</p>
-
-<p>The Norwegian cooking apparatus, to which I have
-already alluded, and which is now commercially supplied
-in England, does its work in a somewhat similar
-manner. It consists of an inner tin pot with well-fitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
-lid, which fits into a box, having a thick lining of ill-conducting
-material—such as felt, wool, or sawdust (it
-should be two or three inches thick bottom and sides).
-A fowl, for example, is put into the tin, which is then
-filled up with boiling water and covered with a close-fitting
-cover lined like the box, and firmly strapped
-down. This may be left for ten or twelve hours, when
-the fowl will be found most delicately cooked. For
-yachtsmen and ‘camping-out’ parties, &amp;c., it is a very
-luxurious apparatus.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a><br />
-
-<small>GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">Gelatin</span> is a very important element of animal food;
-it is, in fact, the main constituent of the animal tissues,
-the walls of the cells of which animals are built up being
-composed of gelatin. I will not here discuss the question
-of whether Haller’s remark, ‘Dimidium corporis humani
-gluten est’ (‘half of the human body is gelatin’), should
-or should not now, as Lehmann says, ‘be modified to
-the assertion that half of the solid parts of the animal
-body <i>are convertible, by boiling with water</i>, into gelatin.’
-Lehmann and others give the name of ‘glutin’ to the
-component of the animal tissue as it exists there, and
-gelatin to it when acted upon by boiling water. Others
-indicate this difference by naming the first ‘gelatin,’ and
-the second ‘gelatine.’</p>
-
-<p>The difference upon which these distinctions are
-based is directly connected with my present subject, as
-it is just the difference between the raw and the cooked
-material, which, as we shall presently see, consists
-mainly in solubility.</p>
-
-<p>Even the original or raw gelatin varies materially
-in this respect. There is a decidedly practical difference
-between the solubility of the cell-walls of a young
-chicken and those of an old hen. The pleasant fiction
-which describes all the pretty gelatine preparations of
-the table as ‘calf’s-foot jelly,’ is founded on the greater<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
-solubility of the juvenile hoof, as compared to that of
-the adult ox or horse, or to the parings of hides about to
-be used by the tanner. All these produce gelatin by
-boiling, the calves’ feet with comparatively little boiling.</p>
-
-<p>Besides these differences there are decided varieties,
-or, I might say, species of gelatin, having slight differences
-of chemical composition and chemical relations.
-There is <i>Chondrin</i>, or cartilage gelatin, which is obtained
-by boiling the cartilages of the ribs, larynx, or
-joints for eighteen or twenty hours in water. Then
-there is <i>Fibroin</i>, obtained by boiling spiders’ webs and
-the silk of silkworms or other caterpillars. These exist
-as a liquid inside the animal, which solidifies on exposure.
-The fibres of sponge contain this modification
-of gelatin.</p>
-
-<p>Another kind is <i>Chitin</i>, which constituted the animal
-food of St. John the Baptist, when he fed upon locusts
-and wild honey. It is the basis of the bodily structure
-of insects; of the spiral tubes which permeate them
-throughout, and are so wonderfully displayed when we
-examine insect anatomy by aid of the microscope; also
-of their intestinal canal, their external skeleton, scales,
-hairs, &amp;c. It similarly forms the true skeleton and
-bodily framework of crabs, lobsters, shrimps, and other
-crustacea, bearing the same relation to their shells,
-muscles, &amp;c., that ordinary gelatin does to the bones
-and softer tissues of the vertebrata; it is ‘the bone of
-their bones, and the flesh of their flesh.’ It is obtainable
-by boiling these creatures down, but is more difficult of
-solution than the ordinary gelatin of beef, mutton, fish,
-and poultry. To this difficulty of solution in the
-stomach, the nightmare that follows lobster suppers is
-probably attributable.</p>
-
-<p>I once had an experience of the edibility of the shells<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
-of a crustacean. When travelling, I always continue the
-pursuit of knowledge in restaurants by ordering anything
-that appears on the bill of fare that I have never
-heard of before, or cannot translate or pronounce. At a
-Neapolitan restaurant I found ‘<i>Gambero di Mare</i>’ on
-the <i>Carta</i>, which I translated ‘Leggy things of the sea,’
-or sea-creepers, and ordered them accordingly. They
-proved to be shrimps fried in their shells, and were very
-delicious—like whitebait, but richer. The chitin of the
-shells was thus cooked to crispness, and no evil consequences
-followed. If reduced to locusts, I should, if
-possible, cook them in the same manner, and, as they
-have similar chemical composition, they would doubtless
-be equally good.</p>
-
-<p>Should any epicurean reader desire to try this dish
-(the shrimps, I mean), he should fry them as they come
-from the sea, not as they are sold by the fishmonger,
-these being already boiled in salt water; usually in sea
-water by the shrimpers who catch them, the chitin being
-indurated thereby.</p>
-
-<p>The introduction of fried and tinned locusts as an
-epicurean delicacy would be a boon to suffering humanity,
-by supplying industrial compensation to the inhabitants
-of districts subject to periodical plagues of locust invasion.
-The idea of eating them appears repulsive <i>at
-first</i>, so would that of eating such creepy-crawly things
-as shrimps, if no adventurous hero had made the first
-exemplary experiment. Chitin is chitin, whether elaborated
-on the land or secreted in the sea. The vegetarian
-locust and the cicala are free from the pungent essential
-oils of the really unpleasant cockchafer.</p>
-
-<p>That curious epicurean food, the edible birds’-nests,
-which has been a subject of much controversy concerning
-its composition, is commonly described as a delicate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
-kind of gelatin. This does not appear to be quite
-correct. It is certainly gelatinous in its mechanical
-properties, but it more nearly resembles the material
-of the slime and organic tissue of snails, a substance to
-which the name of <i>mucin</i> has been given. Thus the
-birds’-nest soup of the East and the snail soup of the
-West are nearly allied, and that made from callipash
-and callipee supplies an intermediate reptilian link.</p>
-
-<p>The birds’-nests, when cleaned for cooking, are entirely
-composed of the dried saliva of swallows, or rather
-swiftlets (<i>collocalia</i>), and this saliva probably contains
-some amount of digestive ferment or pepsin, which may
-render it more digestible than the vulgar product from
-shin of beef, and consequently more acceptable to feeble
-epicures. Those who have sufficient vital energy to
-supply their own saliva will probably prefer the vulgar
-concoction to the costly secretion. The bird saliva sells
-for its own weight in silver, when freed from adhering
-impurities.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p>
-
-<p>Those who are disposed to bow too implicitly to
-mere authority in scientific matters will do well to study
-the history and the treatment which gelatin has received
-from some of the highest of these authorities. Our
-grandmothers believed it to be highly nutritious, prepared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
-it in the form of jellies for invalids, and estimated
-the nutritive value of their soups by the consistency of
-the jelly which they formed on cooling, which thickness
-is due to the gelatin they contain. Isinglass, which is
-simply the swim-bladder of the sturgeon and similar
-fishes cut into shreds, was especially esteemed, and sold
-at high prices. This is the purest natural form of
-gelatin.</p>
-
-<p>Everybody believed that the callipash and callipee
-of the alderman’s turtle soup contributed largely to his
-proverbial girth, and those who could not afford to pay
-for the gelatin of the reptile, made mock turtle from
-the gelatinous tissues of calves’-heads and pigs’-feet.</p>
-
-<p>About fifty or sixty years ago, the French Academy
-of Sciences appointed a bone-soup commission, consisting
-of some of the most eminent <i>savants</i> of the period.
-They worked for above ten years upon the problem
-submitted to them, that of determining whether or not
-the soup made by boiling bones until only their mineral
-matter remained solid, is, or is not, a nutritious food for
-the inmates of hospitals, &amp;c. In the voluminous report
-which they ultimately submitted to the Academy, they
-decided in the negative.</p>
-
-<p>Baron Liebig became the popular exponent of their
-conclusions, and vigorously denounced gelatin, as not
-merely a worthless article of food, but as loading the
-system with material that demands wasteful effort for
-its removal.</p>
-
-<p>The Academicians fed dogs on gelatin alone, found
-that they speedily lost flesh, and ultimately died of
-starvation. A multitude of similar experiments showed
-that gelatin alone will not support animal life, and
-hence the conclusion that pure gelatin is worthless as
-an article of food, and that ordinary soups containing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
-gelatin owed their nutritive value to their other constituents.
-According to the above-named report, and
-the statements of Liebig, the following, which I find on
-a wrapper of Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat,’ is justifiable:
-‘This Extract of Meat differs essentially from the
-gelatinous product obtained from tendons and muscular
-fibre, inasmuch as it contains 80 per cent. of nutritive
-matter, while the other contains 4 or 5 per cent.’ Here
-the 4 or 5 per cent. allowed to exist in the ‘gelatinous
-product’ (<i>i.e.</i> ordinary kitchen stock or glaze), is attributed
-to the constituents it contains over and above the
-pure gelatin.</p>
-
-<p>The following, from a text-book largely used by
-medical students,<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> shows the estimation in which gelatin
-was held at that date: ‘But there is another azotised
-compound, Gelatin, that is furnished by animals, to
-which nothing analogous exists in Plants; and this is
-commonly reputed to possess highly nutritious properties.
-It may be confidently affirmed, however, as
-a result of experiments made upon a large scale, that
-Gelatin is incapable of being converted into Albumen
-in the animal body, so that it cannot be applied to the
-nutrition of the albuminous tissues. And, although it
-might <i>à priori</i> be thought not unlikely that Gelatin,
-taken in as food, should be applied to the nutrition of
-the gelatinous tissues, yet neither observation nor experiment
-bears out such a probability.’ Further on,
-Dr. Carpenter says: ‘The use of gelatin as food would
-seem to be limited to its power of furnishing a certain
-amount of combustive material that may assist in maintaining
-the heat of the body.’</p>
-
-<p>Subsequent experiments, however, have refuted these
-conclusions. I must not be tempted to describe them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
-in detail, but only to state the general results, which are,
-that while animals fed on gelatin soup, formed into a
-soft paste with bread, lost flesh and strength rapidly,
-they recovered their original weight when to this same
-food only a very small quantity of the sapid and odorous
-principles of meat were added. Thus, in the experiments
-of MM. Edwards and Balzac, a young dog that
-had ceased growing, and had lost one-fifth of its original
-weight when fed on bread and gelatin for thirty days,
-was next supplied with the same food, but to which was
-added, twice a day, only two tablespoonfuls of soup
-made from horseflesh. There was an increase of weight
-on the first day, and, ‘in twenty-three days the dog had
-gained considerably more than its original weight, and
-was in the enjoyment of vigorous health and strength.’</p>
-
-<p>All this difference was due to the savoury constituents
-of the four tablespoonfuls of meat soup, which
-soup contained the juices of the flesh, to which, as
-already stated, its flavour is due.</p>
-
-<p>The inferences drawn by M. Edwards from the
-whole of the experiments are the following: ‘1. That
-gelatin alone is insufficient for alimentation. 2. That,
-although insufficient, it is not unwholesome. 3. That
-gelatin contributes to alimentation, and is sufficient
-to sustain it when it is mixed with a due proportion
-of other products which would themselves prove insufficient
-if given alone. 4. That gelatin extracted
-from bones, being identical with that extracted from
-other parts—and bones being richer in gelatin than
-other tissues, and able to afford two-thirds of their
-weight of it—there is an incontestable advantage in
-making them serve for nutrition in the form of soup,
-jellies, paste, &amp;c., always, however, taking care to provide
-a proper admixture of the other principles in which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
-gelatin-soup is defective. 5. That to render gelatin-soup
-equal in nutritive and digestible qualities to that
-prepared from meat alone, it is sufficient <i>to mix one-fourth
-of meat-soup with three-fourths of gelatin-soup;</i>
-and that, in fact, no difference is perceptible between
-soup thus prepared and that made solely from meat. 6.
-That in preparing soup in this way, the great advantage
-remains, that while the soup itself is equally
-nourishing with meat-soup, three-fourths of the meat
-which would be requisite for the latter by the common
-process of making soup are saved and made useful in
-another way—as by roasting, &amp;c. 7. That jellies ought
-always to be associated with some other principles to
-render them both nutritive and digestible.’<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p>
-
-<p>The reader may make a very simple experiment on
-himself by preparing first a pure gelatin-soup from
-isinglass, or the prepared gelatin commonly sold, and
-trying to make a meal of this with bread alone. Its
-insipidity will be evident with the first spoonful. If he
-perseveres, it will become not merely insipid, but positively
-repulsive; and, should he struggle through one
-meal and then another, without any other food between,
-he will find it, in the course of time (varying with constitution
-and previous alimentation), positively nauseous.</p>
-
-<p>Let him now add to it some of Liebig’s ‘Extract of
-Meat,’ and he will at once perceive the difference. Here
-the natural appetite foreshadows the result of continuing
-the experiment, and points the way to correcting the
-errors of the Academicians and Baron Liebig. The
-jellies that we take at evening parties, or the jujubes
-used as sweetmeats, are flavoured with something positive.
-I have tasted ‘Blue-Ribbon’ jellies that were
-wretchedly insipid. This was not merely owing to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
-absence of alcohol, of which very little can remain in
-such preparations, but rather to the absence of the
-flavouring ingredients of the wine.</p>
-
-<p>I venture to suggest the further, deliberate, and
-scientific extension of this principle, by adding to bone-soup,
-or other form of insipid gelatin, the potash, salts,
-phosphates, &amp;c., which are found in the juices of meat
-and vegetables. They may either be prepared in the
-manufacturing laboratory, like Parrish’s ‘Chemical Food,’
-or ‘Syrup of phosphates,’ or extracted from fruits, as
-commercial limejuice is extracted. I recommend those
-who are interested to manufacture and offer for sale a
-good preparation of limejuice gelatin.</p>
-
-<p>It would seem that gelatin alone, although containing
-the elements required for nutrition, requires something
-more to render it digestible. We shall probably
-be not far from the truth if we picture it to the mind as
-something too smooth, too neutral, too inert, to set the
-digestive organs at work, and that it therefore requires
-the addition of a decidedly sapid something that shall
-make these organs act. I believe that the proper function
-of the palate is to determine our selection of such materials;
-that its activity is in direct sympathy with that
-of all the digestive organs; and that if we carefully
-avoid the vitiation of our natural appetites, we have in
-our mouths, and the nervous apparatus connected therewith,
-a laboratory that is capable of supplying us with
-information concerning some of the chemical relations
-of food which is beyond the grasp of the analytical
-machinery of the ablest of our scientific chemists.</p>
-
-<p>What is the chemistry of the cookery of gelatin?
-What are the chemical changes effected by cookery
-upon gelatin? Or, otherwise stated, what is the chemical
-difference or differences between cooked and raw gelatin?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
-I find no satisfactory answer to these questions in any
-of our text-books, and therefore will do what I can
-towards supplying my own solution of the problem.</p>
-
-<p>In the first place, it should be understood that raw
-gelatin, or animal membrane as it exists in its organised
-condition, is not soluble in cold water, and not immediately
-in hot water. Genuine isinglass is the membrane
-of the swim-bladder of the sturgeon (that of other fishes
-is said to be sometimes substituted). In its unprepared
-form it is not easily dissolved, but if soaked in water,
-especially in warm water, for some time, it swells. The
-same with other forms of membrane. This swelling I
-regard as the first stage of the cookery. On examination,
-I find that it is not only increased in bulk but also
-in weight, and that the increase of weight is due to some
-water that it has taken into itself. Here, then, we have
-crude gelatin plus water, or hydrated gelatin. Proceeding
-further, by boiling this until it all dissolves, and then
-allowing it to harden by very slow evaporation, I find
-that it still contains some of its acquired water, and that
-I cannot drive away this newly-acquired water without
-destroying some of its characteristic properties—its
-solubility and gluey character. Before returning to its
-original weight as crude isinglass, it becomes somewhat
-carbonised.</p>
-
-<p>Hence, I infer that the cookery of gelatin consists
-in converting the original membrane more or less completely
-into a hydrate of its former self. According to
-this, the ‘prepared gelatin’ sold in the shops is hydrated
-gelatin, completely hydrated, seeing that it is completely
-and readily soluble.</p>
-
-<p>The membranes of our ordinary cooked meat are, if
-I am right, partially hydrated, in varying degrees, and
-thereby prepared for solution in the course of digestion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
-The varying degrees are illustrated by the differences in
-a knuckle of veal or a calf’s head, according to the
-length of time during which it has been stewed, <i>i.e.</i>
-subjected to the hydrating process.</p>
-
-<p>The second stage of the cookery of gelatin is the
-solution of this hydrate, as in soups, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>Carpenters’ glue is crude hydrated gelatin, made by
-stewing or hydrating hoofs of horses, cattle, &amp;c., or the
-waste cuttings of hides. The carpenter knows that if he
-allows his solution of glue to boil (such a solution boils
-at a higher temperature than pure water), it loses its
-tenacity, becomes cindery, or, as I should say, dehydrated
-or dissociated, without returning to the original
-condition of the organised membranes.</p>
-
-<p>Even a frequent reheating at the glue-pot temperature
-‘weakens’ the glue, and therefore he prefers fresh
-glue, and puts but a little at a time into his glue-pot.</p>
-
-<p>The applications of this theory will appear as I
-proceed.</p>
-
-<p>A sheep or an ox, a fowl or a rabbit, is made up, like
-ourselves, of organic structures and blood, the organs
-continually wasting as they work, and being renewed by
-the blood; or, otherwise described, the component molecules
-of these organs are continually dying of old age as
-their work is done, and replaced by new-born successors
-generated by the blood.</p>
-
-<p>These molecules are, for the most part, cellular, each
-cell living a little life of its own, generated with a definite
-individuality, doing its own life-work, then shrivelling in
-decay, dying in the midst of vital surroundings, suffering
-cremation, and thereby contributing to the animal heat
-necessary for the life of its successors, and even giving
-up a portion of its substance to supply them with
-absorption-food. The cell walls are mainly composed of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
-gelatin, or the substance which produces gelatin, as
-already explained, while the contents of the cell are
-albuminous matter or fat, or the special constituents of
-the particular organ it composes. A description of all
-these constituents would carry me too far into details.
-I must, therefore, only refer to those which constitute
-the bulk of animal food, and which are altered in the
-process of cooking.</p>
-
-<p>In the lean of meat, <i>i.e.</i> the muscles of the animal,
-we have the albuminous juices already described, the
-gelatinous membranes, sheaths, and walls of the muscle
-fibre, and the fibre itself. This is composed of <i>muscle-fibrin</i>,
-or <i>syntonin</i>, as Lehmann has named it. Living
-blood consists of a complex liquid, in which are suspended
-a multitude of minute cells, some red, others
-colourless. When the blood is removed and dies, it
-clots or partially solidifies, and is found to contain a
-network of extremely fine fibre, to which the name of
-<i>fibrin</i> is applied. A similar change takes place in the
-substance of the muscle after death. It stiffens, and
-this stiffening, or <i>rigor mortis</i>, is effected by the formation
-of a clot analogous to the coagulation of the blood.</p>
-
-<p>The chief difference between blood-fibrin and muscle-fibrin
-or syntonin is, that the latter is readily soluble in
-water, to which only <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>1000</sub></small> of hydrochloric acid has been
-added, while in such a solution blood-fibrin only becomes
-swollen. If the gastric juice contains a little free hydrochloric
-acid, this difference is important in reference
-to food. I should, however, add that the existence of
-such free acid in the human gastric juice is disputed,
-especially by Gruenewaldt and Schroeder.</p>
-
-<p>The conflict of able chemists on this point and
-others concerning the composition of this fluid leads me
-to suppose that the secretions of the human stomach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
-vary with the food habitually taken; that flesh-eaters
-acquire a gastric juice similar to that of carnivorous
-animals, while vegetable feeders are supplied with digestive
-solvents more suitable to their food.</p>
-
-<p>This idea is supported by the testimony of rigid
-vegetarians. They tell me that at first the pure vegetarian
-diet did not appear to satisfy them, but after
-a while it became as sustaining as their former food.
-This is explained if, in consequence of the modification
-of the gastric and other digestive juices, the vegetarian
-food became more completely digested after vegetarian
-habits became established.</p>
-
-<p>The properties of fibrin, so far as cookery is concerned,
-place it between albumen and gelatin; it is
-coagulable like albumen, and soluble like gelatin, but
-in a minor degree. Like gelatin, it is tasteless and
-non-nutritious <i>alone</i>. This has been proved by feeding
-animals on lean meat, which has been cut up and subjected
-to the action of cold water, which dissolves out
-the albumen and other juices of the flesh, and leaves
-only the muscular fibre and its envelopes. The experiment
-has been made in laboratories, and also on a larger
-scale in Australia, where the lean beef from which the
-‘Extract of Meat’ had been taken out by cold water was
-given to dogs, pigs, and other animals; but, after taking
-a few mouthfuls, they all rejected it, and suffered starvation
-when it was forced upon them without other food.</p>
-
-<p>The same is the case with the spontaneously coagulated
-fibrin of the blood; it is, when washed, a yellowish
-opaque fibrous mass, without smell or taste, insoluble in
-cold water, alcohol, or ether, but imperfectly soluble if
-digested for a considerable time in hot water.</p>
-
-<p>The following is the chemical composition of these
-three constituents of lean meat, according to Mulder:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="constituents of lean meat">
-<tr>
-<td align="center" class="btlrb">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Albumen</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Gelatine</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Fibrin</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">50·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">52·7</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·64</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·9</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">18·34</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·4</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left" class="blr">Oxygen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">22·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">24·62</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">23·5</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left" class="blr">Sulphur</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">1·6</td>
-<td align="center" class="br">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">1·2</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left" class="blr">Phosphorus</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">0·4</td>
-<td align="center" class="br">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">0·3</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left" class="blrb">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="btrb">100·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="btrb">100·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="btrb">100·0</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>There are two other constituents of lean meat which
-are very different from either of these, viz. <i>Kreatine</i> and
-<i>Kreatinine</i>, otherwise spelled ‘creatine’ and ‘creatinine.’
-They exist in the juice of the flesh, and are freely
-soluble in cold or hot water, from which solution they
-may be crystallised by evaporating the solvent, just as
-we may crystallise common salt, alum, &amp;c. They thus
-have a resemblance to mineral substances, and still more
-so to some of the active constituents of plants, such as
-the alkaloids <i>theine</i> and <i>caffeine</i>, upon which depend the
-stimulating or ‘refreshing’ properties of tea and coffee.
-Like these, they are highly nitrogenous, and many
-theories have been based upon this, both as regards
-their exceptionally nutritious properties and their functions
-in the living muscle. One of these theories is that
-they are the dead matter of muscle, the first and second
-products of the combustion which accompanies muscular
-work, urea being the final product. According to this
-their relation to the muscle is exactly the opposite of
-that of the albuminous juice, this being probably the
-material from which the muscle is built up or renewed.
-The following is their composition, according to Liebig’s
-analyses, and does not support this hypothesis:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Liebig's analysis">
-<tr><td align="center" class="btlrb">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Kreatine</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Kreatinine</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">36·64</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">42·48</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·87</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·19</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">32·06</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">37·17</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Oxygen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">24·43</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">14·16</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="btrb">100·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="btrb">100·00</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-<p>They appear to undergo no change in cooking unless
-excessively heated; may be used uncooked, as in cold-drawn
-extract of meat.</p>
-
-<p>The juices of lean flesh also contain a little lactic
-acid—the acid of milk—but this does not appear to be
-an absolutely essential constituent. Besides these there
-are mineral salts of considerable nutritive importance,
-though small in quantity. These, with the kreatine and
-kreatinine, are the chief constituents of beef-tea properly
-so-called, and will be further treated when I come to that
-preparation. At present it is sufficient to keep in view
-the fact that these juices are essential to complete the
-nutritive value of animal food.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a><br />
-
-<small>ROASTING AND GRILLING.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">I may</span> now venture to state my own view of a somewhat
-obscure subject—viz. the difference between the roasting
-or grilling of meat and the stewing of meat. It
-appears to me that, as regards the nature of the operation,
-it consists simply in the difference between the
-cooking media; that a grilled steak or chop, or a
-roasted joint is meat that has been stewed in its own
-juices instead of stewed in water; that in both cases the
-changes taking place in the <i>solid</i> parts of the meat are
-the same in kind, provided always that the roasting or
-grilling is properly performed. The albumen is coagulated
-in all cases, and the gelatinous and fibrous tissues
-are softened by being heated in a liquid solvent. I shall
-presently apply this definition in distinguishing between
-good and bad cookery.</p>
-
-<p>In the roasted or grilled meat the juices are retained
-in the meat (with the exception of those which escape
-as gravy on the dish), while in stewing the juices go
-more or less completely into the water, and the loosening
-of the fibres and solution of the gelatin and fibrin
-may be carried further, inasmuch as a larger quantity of
-solvent is used.</p>
-
-<p>Roasting and grilling may be regarded as our
-national methods of flesh cookery, and stewing in water
-that of our continental neighbours. The difference<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
-between the flavour of English roast beef and French
-<i>bouilli</i> or Italian <i>manzo</i> is due to the retention or the
-removal of the saline and highly-flavoured soluble materials.
-(Concentrated kreatine and kreatinine are pungently
-sapid.) The Frenchman takes them out of his
-<i>bouilli</i>, or boiled meat, and transfers them to his <i>bouillon</i>,
-or soup, which, with him, is an essential element of a
-meal. If he ate his meat without soup, he would be
-like the dogs fed on gelatin by the bone-soup commissioners.
-To the Englishman, with his roast or
-grilled meat, soup is merely a luxury, not an absolutely
-necessary element of a complete dietary.</p>
-
-<p>What we call boiled meat, as a boiled leg of mutton
-or round of beef, is an intermediate preparation. The
-heat is here communicated by water, and the juices
-partially retained.</p>
-
-<p>Not only do we, in roasting and grilling our meat,
-keep the juices within it, but we concentrate them considerably
-by evaporating away <i>some</i> of the water by which
-they are naturally diluted. This is my explanation of
-the <i>rationale</i> of the chief difference between boiled meat
-and roasted or grilled meat. A further difference—that
-due to browning—is discussed in the <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">chapter on Frying</a>.
-Those accustomed to such concentration of flavour
-regard the milder results of boiling as insipid, for, by
-this process and by stewing, where much water is used,
-the juices are further diluted instead of being concentrated.</p>
-
-<p>It is a fairly debatable question whether the simplicity
-of taste which finds satisfaction in the milder diet
-is better and more desirable than the appetite for strong
-meat. The difference has some analogy to that between
-the thirst for light wine and that for stiff grog.</p>
-
-<p>The application of the principles above expounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
-to the processes of grilling and roasting is simple
-enough. As the meat is to be stewed in its own juices,
-it is evident that these juices must be retained as completely
-as possible, and that in order to succeed in this,
-we have to struggle with the evaporating energy of the
-‘dry heat’ which effects the cookery, and may not only
-concentrate the juices by driving off some of their solvent
-water, but may volatilise or decompose the flavouring
-principles themselves. We must always remember that
-these organic compounds are very unstable, most of
-them being decomposed when raised to a temperature
-above the boiling-point of water. The repulsive energy
-of heat drives apart or ‘dissociates’ their loosely-combined
-elements, and when thus wholly or partially dissociated,
-all the characteristic properties of the original
-compound vanish, and others take their place.</p>
-
-<p>It should be clearly understood that the so-called
-‘dry heat’ may be communicated by convection or by
-radiation, or both. When water is the heating medium,
-there is convection only—<i>i.e.</i> heating by actual contact
-with the heated body. In roasting and grilling there is
-also some convection-heating due to the hot air which
-actually touches the meat; but this is a very small
-element of efficiency, the work being chiefly done, when
-well done, by the heat which is radiated from the fire
-directly to the surface of the meat, and which, in the
-case of roasting in front of a fire, passes through the
-intervening air with very little heating effect thereon.</p>
-
-<p>I am not perpetrating any far-fetched pedantry in
-pointing out this difference, as will be understood at
-once by supposing a beefsteak to be cooked by suspending
-it in a chamber filled with hot dry air. Such
-air is actively thirsting for the vapour of water, and
-will take into itself, from every humid substance it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
-touches, a quantity proportionate to its temperature.
-The steak receiving its heat by convection—<i>i.e.</i> the heat
-conveyed by such hot air, and communicated by contact—would
-be <i>desiccated, but not cooked</i>.</p>
-
-<p>This distinction is so important, that I will illustrate
-it still further, my chief justification for such insistence
-being that even Rumford himself evidently failed to
-understand it, and it has been generally misunderstood
-or neglected.</p>
-
-<p>Let us suppose the hot air used for convection cooking
-to be at the cooking-point, as the hot water in stewing
-should be, what will follow its application to the meat?
-Evaporation of the water in the juices, and with that
-evaporation a lowering of temperature at the surface of
-the meat, keeping it below the cooking-point. If the air
-be heated above this, the evaporation will go on with
-proportionate rapidity. As nearly 1,000 degrees of heat
-are lost <i>as temperature</i>, and converted into expansive
-force whenever and wherever evaporation of water
-occurs, the film of hot, dry air touching the meat is
-cooled by this evaporation, and sinks immediately, to be
-replaced by a rising film of lighter, hotter, and drier air.
-This drinks in more vapour, cools and sinks, to give
-place to another, and so on till the inner juices gradually
-ooze between the fibres to the porous surface, where
-they are carried away by the hot, dry air, and a hard,
-leathery, unmasticable mass of desiccated gelatin, albumen,
-fibrin, &amp;c., is produced.</p>
-
-<p>Now, let us suppose a similar beefsteak to be cooked
-by radiant heat, with the least possible co-operation of
-convection.</p>
-
-<p>To effect this, our source of heat must be a good
-radiator. Glowing solids are better radiators than ordinary
-flames; therefore coke, or charcoal, or ordinary coal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
-after its bituminous matter has done its flaming, should
-be used, and the steak or chop may be placed in front
-or above a surface of such glowing carbon. In ordinary
-domestic practice it is placed on a gridiron above the
-coal, and therefore I will consider this case first.</p>
-
-<p>The object to be attained is to raise the juices of the
-meat throughout to about the temperature of 180° Fahr.
-as quickly as possible, in order that the cookery may be
-completed before the water of these juices shall have
-had time to evaporate excessively; therefore the meat
-should be placed as near to the surface of the glowing
-carbon as possible. But the practical housewife will
-say that, if placed within two or three inches, some of
-the fat will be melted and burn, and then the steak will
-be smoked.</p>
-
-<p>Now, here we require a little more chemistry. There
-is smoking and smoking; smoking that produces a
-detestable flavour, and smoking that does no mischief
-at all beyond appearances. The flame of an ordinary
-coal fire is due to the distillation and combustion of
-tarry vapours. If such a flame strikes a comparatively
-cool surface like that of the meat, it will condense and
-deposit thereon a film of crude coal tar and coal naphtha,
-most nauseous and rather mischievous; but if the flame
-be that which is caused by the combustion of its own
-fat, the deposit on a mutton-chop will be a little mutton
-juice, on a beefsteak a little beef juice, more or less
-blackened by mutton-carbon or beef-carbon. But these
-have no other flavour than that of cooked mutton
-and cooked beef; therefore they are perfectly innocent,
-in spite of their black, guilty appearances.</p>
-
-<p>If any of my readers are sceptical, let them appeal
-to experiment by putting a mutton-chop to the torture,
-and taking its own confession. To do this, divide the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
-chop in equal halves, then hold one half over a flaming
-coal, immersing it in the flame, and thus cook it. Now
-cut a bit of fat off the other, throw this fat on a surface
-of clear, glowing, flameless coal or coke, and, when a
-good blaze is thus obtained, immerse the half chop
-recklessly and unmercifully into <i>this</i> flame; there let
-it splutter and fizz, let it drop more fat and make more
-flame, but hold it there nevertheless for a few minutes,
-and then taste the result.</p>
-
-<p>In spite of its blackness, it will be (if just warmed
-through to the above-named cooking temperature) a
-deliciously-cooked, juicy, nutritious, digestible morsel,
-apparently raw, but actually more completely cooked
-than if it had been held twice as long, at double the
-distance, from the surface of the fire.</p>
-
-<p>For further instruction, make a third experiment by
-imitating the cautious unscientific cook, who, ignorant of
-the difference between the condensation products of coal
-and those from beef and mutton fat, carefully raises
-the gridiron directly the flame from the dropping fat
-threatens the object of her solicitude. The result will
-be an ordinary domestic chop or steak. I apply this
-adjective, because in this particular effort of cookery,
-the grilling of chops and steaks, domestic cookery is
-commonly at fault. The majority of our City men find
-that while the joint cooked at home is better than that
-they usually get at restaurants and hotels, the chops
-and steaks are inferior.</p>
-
-<p>I believe that this inferiority is due, in the first place,
-to the want of understanding of the difference between
-coal-flame and fat-flame; and in the second, to the advantage
-afforded to the ‘grill-room’ cook by his specially-constructed
-fire, with a large surface of glowing coke
-surmounted by a sloping grill, whereon he can expose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
-his chops and steaks to a maximum of radiant heat
-with a minimum of convection heat; the hot air which
-passes in a current over the coke surface having
-such small depth that it barely touches the bars of the
-grill. (This may be seen by watching the course of
-flame produced by the droppings of the fat.) The same
-obliquity of draught prevents the serious blacking of
-the meat, which, although harmless, is unsightly and
-calculated to awaken prejudice.</p>
-
-<p>The high temperature rapidly imparted by radiation
-to the surface of the meat forms a thin superficial crust
-of hardened and semi-carbonised albumen and fibre,
-that resists the outrush of vapour, and produces within
-a certain degree of high pressure, which probably acts
-in loosening the fibres. A well-grilled chop or steak is
-‘puffed’ out—made thicker in the middle; an ill-cooked,
-desiccated specimen is shrivelled, collapsed, and thinned
-by the slow departure or dissociation of its juices.</p>
-
-<p>Happy little couples, living in little houses with only
-one little servant—or, happier still, with no servant at
-all—complain of their little joints of meat, which, when
-roasted, are so dry, as compared with the big succulent
-joints of larger households. A little reflection on the
-principles above applied to the grilling of steaks and
-chops will explain the source of this little difficulty, and
-show how it may be overcome.</p>
-
-<p>I will here venture upon a little of the mathematics
-of cookery, as well as its chemistry. While the weight
-or quantity of material in a joint increases with the cube
-of its through-measured dimensions, its surface only increases
-with their square—or, otherwise stated, we do
-not nearly double or treble the surface of a joint of
-given form when we double or treble its weight; and
-<i>vice versâ</i>, the less the weight, the greater the surface<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
-in proportion to the weight. This is obvious enough
-when we consider that we cannot cut a single lump of
-anything into halves without exposing or creating two
-fresh surfaces where no surfaces were exposed before.
-As the evaporation of the juices is, under given conditions,
-proportionate to the surface exposed, it is evident
-that this process of converting the inside middle into
-two outside surfaces must increase the amount of evaporation
-that occurs in roasting.</p>
-
-<p>What, then, is the remedy for this? It is twofold.
-First, to seal up the pores of these additional surfaces as
-completely as possible; and secondly, to diminish to the
-utmost the time of exposure to the dry air. Logically
-following up these principles, I arrive at a practical
-formula which will probably induce certain orthodox
-cooks to denounce me as a culinary paradoxer. It is
-this: That <i>the smaller the joint to be roasted, the higher
-the temperature to which its surface should be exposed</i>.
-The roasting of a small joint should, in fact, be conducted
-in nearly the same manner as the grilling of a
-chop or steak described in my last. The surface should
-be crusted or browned—burned, if you please—as
-speedily as possible, in such wise that the juices within
-shall be held there under high pressure, and only allowed
-to escape by burst and splutters, rather than by steady
-evaporation.</p>
-
-<p>The best way of doing this is a problem to be solved
-by the practical cook. I only expound the principles,
-and timidly suggest the mode of applying them. In a
-metallurgical laboratory, where I am most at home, I
-could roast a small joint beautifully by suspending it
-inside a large red-hot steel-smelter’s crucible, or, better
-still, in an apparatus called a ‘muffle,’ which is a fireclay
-tunnel open in front, and so arranged in a suitable furnace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
-as to be easily made red-hot all round. A small
-joint placed on a dripping-pan and run into this would
-be equally heated by all-round converging radiation, and
-exquisitely roasted in the course of ten to thirty minutes,
-according to its size. Some such an apparatus has yet
-to be invented in order that we may learn the flavour
-and tenderness of a perfectly-roasted small joint of beef
-or mutton.</p>
-
-<p>For roasting large masses of meat, a different proceeding
-is necessary. Here we have to contend, not
-with excessive surface in proportion to bulk—as in the
-grilling of chops and steaks, and the roasting of small
-joints—but with the contrary, viz. excessive bulk in
-proportion to surface. If a baron of beef were to be
-treated according to my prescription for a steak, or for
-a single small wing rib, or other joint of three to five
-pounds weight, it would be charred on its surface long
-before the heat could reach its centre.</p>
-
-<p>A considerable time is here inevitably demanded.
-Of course, the higher the initial outside temperature,
-the more rapidly the heat will penetrate; but we cannot
-apply this law to a lump of meat as we may to a mass
-of iron. We may go on heating the outside of the iron
-to redness, but not so the meat. So long as the surface
-of the meat remains moist, we cannot raise it to a higher
-temperature than the boiling-point of the liquid that
-moistens it. Above this, charring commences. A little
-of such charring, such as occurs to the steak or small
-joint during the short period of its exposure to the great
-heat, does no harm; it simply ‘browns’ the surface; but
-if this were continued during the roasting of a large
-joint, a crust of positively black charcoal would be
-formed, with ruinous waste and general detriment.</p>
-
-<p>As Rumford proved long ago, liquids are very bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
-conductors, and when their circulation is prevented by
-confinement between fibres, as in the meat, the rate at
-which heat will travel through the humid mass is very
-slow indeed. As few of my readers are likely to fully
-estimate the magnitude of this difficulty, I will state a
-fact that came under my own observation, and at the
-time surprised me.</p>
-
-<p>About five-and-twenty years ago I was visiting a
-friend at Warwick during the ‘mop,’ or ‘statute fair’—the
-annual slave market of the county. In accordance
-with the old custom, an ox was roasted whole in
-the open public market-place. The spitting of the
-carcass and starting the cookery was a disgusting sight.
-We are accustomed to see the neatly-cut joints ordinarily
-brought to the kitchen; but the handling and
-impaling of the whole body of a huge beast by half a
-dozen rough men, while its stiffened limbs were stretching
-out from its trunk, presented the carnivorous character
-of our ordinary feeding very grossly indeed.</p>
-
-<p>Nevertheless I watched the process, partook of some
-of its result, and found it good. The fire was lighted
-before midnight, the rotation of the beast on the horizontal
-spit began shortly after, and continued until the
-following midday, all this time being necessary for the
-raising of the inner parts of the flesh to the cooking
-temperature of about 180° Fahr.</p>
-
-<p>Compare this with the grilling of a steak, which,
-when well done, is done in a few minutes, or the roasting
-of the small joint as above within thirty minutes,
-and you will see that I am justified in dwelling on the
-great differences of the two processes, and the necessity
-of very varied proceeding to meet these different conditions.</p>
-
-<p>The difference of time is so great that the smaller<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
-relative surface is insufficient to compensate for the
-evaporation that must occur if the grilling principle,
-or the pure and simple action of radiant heat, were only
-made available, as in the above ideal roasting of the
-small joint.</p>
-
-<p>What, then, is added to this? How is the desiccating
-difficulty overcome in the large-scale roasting? Simply
-by <i>basting</i>.</p>
-
-<p>All night long and all the next morning men were
-continuously at work pouring melted fat over the surface
-of the slowly-rotating carcass of the Warwick ox, skilfully
-directing a ladleful to any part that indicated undue
-dryness.</p>
-
-<p>By this device the meat is more or less completely
-enveloped in a varnish of hot melted fat, which assists
-in the communication of heat, while it checks the
-evaporation of the juices. In such roasting the heat
-is partially communicated by convection through the
-medium of a fat-bath, as in stewing it is all supplied
-by a water-bath.</p>
-
-<p>I have made some experiments wherein this principle
-is fully carried out. In a suitably-sized saucepan
-I melted a sufficient quantity of mutton-dripping to
-form a bath, wherein a small joint of mutton could be
-completely immersed. The fat was then raised to a
-high temperature, 350° (as shown by Davis’ <i>tryometer</i>,
-presently to be described). Then I immersed the joint
-in this, keeping up the high temperature for a few
-minutes. Afterwards I allowed it to fall below 200°, and
-thus cooked the joint. It was good and juicy, though a
-little of the gravy had escaped and was found in the
-fat after cooling. The experiment was repeated with
-variations of temperature; the best result obtained
-when it was about 400° at the beginning, and kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
-up to above 200° afterwards. I used loins and half-legs
-of mutton, exposing considerable surface.</p>
-
-<p>I find that Sir Henry Thompson, in a lecture delivered
-at the Fisheries Exhibition, and now reprinted,
-has invaded my subject, and has done this so well that
-I shall retaliate by annexing his suggestion, which is
-that fish should be <i>roasted</i>. He says that this mode of
-cooking fish should be general, since it is applicable to
-all varieties. I fully agree with him, but go a little
-further in the same direction by including, not only
-roasting in a Dutch or American oven <i>before</i> the fire, but
-also in the side-ovens of kitcheners and in gas-ovens,
-which, when used as I have explained, are roasters—<i>i.e.</i>
-they cook by radiation, without any of the drying anticipated
-by Sir Henry.</p>
-
-<p>The practical housewife will probably say this is not
-new, seeing that people who know what is good have
-long been in the habit of enjoying mackerel and haddocks
-(especially Dublin Bay haddocks) stuffed and
-baked, and cods’ heads similarly treated. The Jews do
-something of the kind with halibut’s head, which they
-prize as the greatest of all piscine delicacies. The John
-Dory is commonly stuffed and cooked in an oven by
-those who understand his merits.</p>
-
-<p>The excellence of Sir Henry Thompson’s idea consists
-in its breadth as applicable to <i>all fish</i>, on the basis of
-that fundamental principle of scientific cookery on which
-I have so continually and variously insisted, viz. the retention
-and concentration of the natural juices of the
-viands.</p>
-
-<p>He recommends the placing of the fish entire, if of
-moderate size, in a tin or plated copper dish adapted to
-the form and size of the fish, but a little deeper than its
-thickness, so as to retain all the juices, which on exposure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
-to the heat will flow out; the surface to be lightly spread
-with butter with a morsel or two added, and the dish
-placed before the fire in a Dutch or American oven, or
-the special apparatus made by Burton of Oxford Street,
-which was exhibited at the lecture.</p>
-
-<p>To this I may add, that if a closed oven be used,
-Rumford’s device of a false bottom, shown in <a href="#Fig_3">Fig. 3</a>, p. 72
-(see next chapter), should be adopted, which may be
-easily done by simply standing the above-described fish-dish,
-on any kind of support to raise it a little, in a
-larger tin tray or baking-dish, containing some water.
-The evaporation of the water will prevent the drying up
-of the fish or of its natural gravy; and if the oven ventilation
-is treated with the contempt I shall presently
-recommend, the fish, if thick, will be better cooked and
-more juicy than in an open-faced oven in front of the
-fire.</p>
-
-<p>This reminds me of a method of cooking fish which,
-in the course of my pedestrian travels in Italy, I have
-seen practised in the rudest of osterias, where my fellow-guests
-were carbonari (charcoal burners), waggoners,
-road-making navvies, &amp;c. Their staple ‘<i>magro</i>,’ or fast-day
-material, is split and dried codfish imported from
-Norway, which in appearance resembles the hides that
-are imported to the Bermondsey tanneries. A piece is
-hacked out from one of these, soaked for awhile in water,
-and carefully rolled in a piece of paper saturated with
-olive oil. A hole is then made in the white embers of
-the charcoal fire, the paper parcel of fish inserted and
-carefully buried in ashes of selected temperature. It
-comes out wonderfully well cooked considering the nature
-of the raw material. Luxurious cookery <i>en papillote</i> is
-conducted on the same principle and especially applied
-to red mullets, the paper being buttered and the sauce<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
-enveloped with the fish. In all these cases the retention
-of the natural juices is the primary object.</p>
-
-<p>I should add that Sir Henry Thompson directs, as a
-matter of course, that the roasted fish should be served
-in the dish wherein it was cooked. He suggests that
-‘portions of fish, such as fillets, may be treated as well
-as entire fish; garnishes of all kinds, as shell-fish, &amp;c.,
-may be added, flavouring also with fine herbs and condiments
-according to taste.’ ‘Fillets of plaice or skate
-with a slice or two of bacon; the dish to be filled or
-garnished with some previously-boiled haricots,’ is wisely
-recommended as a savoury meal for a poor man, and one
-that is highly nutritious. A chemical analysis of six-pennyworth
-of such a combination would prove its
-nutritive value to be equal to fully eighteen-pennyworth
-of beefsteak.</p>
-
-<p>Some people may be inclined to smile at what I am
-about to say, viz. that such savoury dishes, serving to
-vary the monotony of the poor hard-working man’s ordinary
-fare, afford considerable moral, as well as physical,
-advantage.</p>
-
-<p>An instructive experience of my own will illustrate
-this. When wandering alone through Norway in 1856,
-I lost the track in crossing the Kjolen fjeld, struggled on
-for twenty-three hours without food or rest, and arrived
-in sorry plight at Lom, a very wild region. After a few
-hours’ rest I pushed on to a still wilder region and still
-rougher quarters, and continued thus to the great Jostedal
-table-land, an unbroken glacier of 500 square
-miles; then descended the Jostedal itself to its opening
-on the Sogne fjord—five days of extreme hardship with
-no other food than flatbrod (very coarse oatcake), and
-bilberries gathered on the way, varied on one occasion
-with the luxury of two raw turnips. Then I reached a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
-comparatively luxurious station (Ronnei), where ham
-and eggs and claret were obtainable. The first glass of
-claret produced an effect that alarmed me—a craving
-for more and for stronger drink, that was almost irresistible.
-I finished a bottle of St. Julien, and nothing
-but a violent effort of will prevented me from then
-ordering brandy.</p>
-
-<p>I attribute this to the exhaustion consequent upon
-the excessive work and insufficient unsavoury food of
-the previous five days; have made many subsequent
-observations on the victims of alcohol, and have no
-doubt that overwork and scanty, tasteless food is the
-primary source of the craving for strong drink that so
-largely prevails with such deplorable results among the
-class that is the most exposed to such privation. I do
-not say that this is the only source of such depraved
-appetite. It may also be engendered by the opposite
-extreme of excessive luxurious pandering to general
-sensuality.</p>
-
-<p>The practical inference suggested by this experience
-and these observations is, that speech-making, pledge-signing,
-and blue-ribbon missions can only effect temporary
-results unless supplemented by satisfying the
-natural appetite of hungry people by supplies of food
-that are not only nutritious, but savoury and <i>varied</i>. Such
-food need be no more expensive than that which is
-commonly eaten by the poorest of Englishmen, but it
-must be far better cooked.</p>
-
-<p>Comparing the domestic economy of the poorer
-classes of our countrymen with that of the corresponding
-classes in France and Italy (with both of which I am
-well acquainted), I find that the raw material of the
-dietary of the French and Italians is inferior to that of
-the English, but a far better result is obtained by better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
-cookery. The Italian peasantry are better fed than the
-French. In the poor osterias above referred to, not only
-the Friday salt fish, but all the other viands, were incomparably
-better cooked than in corresponding places in
-England, and the variety was greater than is common in
-many middle-class houses. The ordinary supper of the
-‘roughs’ above-named was of three courses: first, a
-‘<i>minestra</i>,’ <i>i.e.</i> a soup of some kind, continually varied,
-or a savoury dish of macaroni; then a ragoût or savoury
-stew of vegetables and meat, followed by an excellent
-salad; the beverage, a flask of thin but genuine wine.
-When I come to the subject of cheese, I will describe
-their mode of cooking and using it.</p>
-
-<p>My first walk through Italy extended from the Alps
-to Naples, and from Messina to Syracuse. I thus spent
-nearly a year in Italy during a season of great abundance,
-and never saw a drunken Italian. A few years
-after this I walked through a part of Lombardy, and
-found the little osterias as bad as English beershops or
-low public-houses. It was a period of scarcity and
-trouble, ‘the three plagues,’ as they called them—the
-potato disease, the silkworm fungus, and the grape disease—had
-brought about general privation. There was
-no wine at all; potato spirit and coarse beer had taken
-its place. Monotonous ‘polenta,’ a sort of paste or porridge
-made from Indian corn meal, to which they give
-the contemptuous name of ‘miserabile,’ was then the
-general food, and much drunkenness was the natural
-consequence.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a><br />
-
-<small>COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">In</span> the third volume of his ‘Essays, Political, Economical,
-and Philosophical,’ page 129, Count Rumford introduces
-this subject, with the following apology, which
-I repeat and adopt. He says: ‘I shall, no doubt, be
-criticised by many for dwelling so long on a subject
-which to them will appear low, vulgar, and trifling; but
-I must not be deterred by fastidious criticisms from
-doing all I can do to succeed in what I have undertaken.
-Were I to treat my subject superficially, my writing
-would be of no use to anybody, and my labour would be
-lost; but by investigating it thoroughly, I may, perhaps,
-engage others to pay that attention to it which, from its
-importance, it deserves.’</p>
-
-<p>This subject of roasting occupied a large amount of
-Count Rumford’s attention while he was in England
-residing in Brompton Road, and founding the Royal
-Institution. His efforts were directed not merely to
-cooking the meat effectively, but to doing so economically.
-Like all others who have contemplated thoughtfully
-the habits of Englishmen, he was shocked at the
-barbaric waste of fuel that everywhere prevailed in this
-country, even to a greater extent then than now.</p>
-
-<p>The first fact that necessarily presented itself to his
-mind was the great amount of heat that is wasted, when
-an ordinary joint of meat is suspended in front of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
-ordinary coal fire to intercept and utilise only a small
-fraction of its total radiation.</p>
-
-<p>As far as I am aware, there is no other country in
-Europe where such a process is indigenous. I say ‘indigenous,’
-because there certainly are hotels where this
-or any other English extravagance is perpetrated to
-please Englishmen who choose to pay for it. What is
-usually called roast meat in countries not inhabited by
-English-speaking people, is what we should call ‘baked
-meat,’ the very name of which sets all the gastronomic
-bristles of an orthodox Englishman in a position of
-perpendicularity.</p>
-
-<p>I have a theory of my own respecting the origin of
-this prejudice. Within the recollection of many still
-living, the great middle class of Englishmen lived in
-town; their sitting-rooms were back parlours behind
-their shops, or factories, or warehouses; their drawing-rooms
-were on the first-floor, and kitchens in the basement.</p>
-
-<p>They kept one general servant of the ‘Marchioness’
-type. The corresponding class now live in suburban
-villas, keep cook, housemaid, and parlour-maid, besides
-the gardener and his boy, and they dine at supper-time.</p>
-
-<p>In the days of the one marchioness and the basement
-kitchen, these citizens ‘of credit and renown’ dined at
-dinner-time, and were in the habit of placing a three-legged
-open iron triangle in a brown earthenware dish,
-then spreading a stratum of peeled potatoes on said dish,
-and a joint of meat above, on the open triangular support.
-This edifice was carried by the marchioness to the
-bakehouse round the corner at about 11 <small>A.M.</small>, and brought
-back steaming and savoury at 1 <small>P.M.</small></p>
-
-<p>This was especially the case on Sundays; but there
-were exceptions, as when, for example, the condition of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
-the mistress’s wardrobe offered no particular motive for
-going to church, and she stayed at home and roasted the
-Sunday dinner. The experience thus obtained demonstrated
-a material difference between the flavour of the
-roasted and the baked meat very decidedly in favour of
-the home roasted. Why?</p>
-
-<p>The principal reason was, I believe, that the baker’s
-large bread-oven contained at dinner-time a curious
-medley of meats—mutton, beef, pork, geese, veal, &amp;c.,
-including stuffing with sage and onions, besides the possibility
-of a joint or two that had been hung longer than
-was necessary for procuring tenderness. The vapours of
-these would induce a confusion of flavours in the milder
-meats, fully accounting for the observed superiority of
-the home-roasted joints.</p>
-
-<p>A little reflection on the principles already expounded
-will show that, theoretically regarded, a given piece of
-meat would be better roasted in a closed chamber radiating
-heat <i>from all sides</i> towards the meat than it could
-be when suspended in front of a fire and heated only on
-one side, while the other side was turned away to cool
-more or less, according to the rate of rotation.</p>
-
-<p>If I agreed with the popular belief in the advantage
-of open-air exposure to direct radiation from glowing
-coal, I should suggest that for large joints a special roasting
-fire be constructed, by building an upright cylinder
-of fire-brick, and erecting within this a smaller cylinder
-or grating of iron bars, so that the fuel should be placed
-between these, and thus form an upright cylindrical ring
-or shirt of fire, enclosed outside by the bricks, but open
-and glowing towards the inside of the hollow cylinder,
-in the midst of which the meat should be suspended to
-receive the radiation from all sides.</p>
-
-<p>The whole apparatus might stand under a dome,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
-terminating in an ordinary chimney, like a glass-house
-or a steel-maker’s cementing furnace; or, in this respect,
-like those wondrous kitchens of the old seraglio
-at Constantinople, where each apartment is a huge
-chimney, outspreading downwards, so that the cooks,
-and their materials and apparatus, as well as the huge
-fires themselves, are all under the great central chimney
-shaft.</p>
-
-<p>I do not, however, recommend such an apparatus,
-even to the most wealthy and luxurious epicure, because
-I am convinced, not merely from theoretical considerations,
-but also from practical experiments, that all kinds
-of meat may be not merely as well roasted in a close oven
-as before an open fire, but that the close chamber, properly
-managed, produces <i>better results in every respect</i>
-than can possibly be obtained by roasting in the open
-air.</p>
-
-<p>To obtain such results there must be no compromise,
-no concession to any false theory respecting a necessity
-for special ventilation, excepting in the case of semi-putrid
-game or venison, which require to be carbonised
-and disinfected as well as cooked, and, of course, also
-demand the speedy removal of their noxious vapours.</p>
-
-<p>Not so with fresh meats. There is nothing in the
-vapour of beef that can injure the flavour of beef, nor in
-the vapour of mutton that is damaging to mutton, and so
-on with the rest. But there is much that can, and does
-actually improve them; or, more strictly speaking, prevents
-the deterioration to which they are liable when
-roasted before an open fire. I will endeavour to explain
-this.</p>
-
-<p>Carefully-conducted experiments have demonstrated
-the general law that atmospheric air is a vacuum to the
-vapour of water and other similar vapours, while each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
-particular vapour is a plenum to itself, though not to
-other vapours; or, otherwise stated, if a given space, at
-a given temperature, be filled with air, the quantity of
-aqueous vapour that it is capable of holding is the same
-as though this space contained no air at all, nor anything
-else. But this same space may contain a much
-smaller quantity of aqueous vapour, and yet be absolutely
-impenetrable to aqueous vapour, provided its
-temperature is unaltered.</p>
-
-<p>Thus, if a bell-glass, filled with air, under ordinary
-pressure, at the temperature of 100° Fahr., be placed
-over a dish of water at the same temperature, a quantity of
-vapour, equal to <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>30</sub></small>th (in round numbers) of the weight
-of the air, will rise into the bell-glass, and there remain
-diffused throughout. If there were less air, or no air at
-all (temperature remaining the same), the bell-glass would
-obtain and hold the same quantity of vapour.</p>
-
-<p>If, instead of being filled with air, it contained at the
-outset only this <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>30</sub></small>th of aqueous vapour, it would now
-be an impenetrable plenum, behaving like a solid to
-aqueous vapour—no more could be forced into it while
-its temperature remained the same.</p>
-
-<p>But while thus charged with aqueous vapour, there
-would still be room for vapour of alcohol, or turpentine,
-or ether, or chloroform, &amp;c. It would be a vacuum to
-these, though a plenum to itself. On the other hand, if
-the alcohol, turpentine, ether, or chloroform were allowed
-to evaporate into the bell-glass, a certain quantity of
-either of these vapours would presently enter it, and then
-this vapour would act like a solid mass in resisting the
-entry of any more of its own kind, while it would be
-freely pervious to the vapour of water or that of the
-other liquids.</p>
-
-<p>A practical example will further illustrate this. Some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
-years ago I was engaged in the distillation of paraffin
-oil, and had a few thousand gallons of the crude liquid
-in a still with a tall head and a rising condenser. In
-spite of severe firing, the distillation proceeded very
-slowly. Then I threw into the still, just above the
-surface of the oil, a jet of steam. The rate of distillation
-immediately increased with the same firing, although the
-steam was of much lower temperature than the boiling
-oil, and, therefore, wasted much heat. The <i>rationale</i> of
-this was, that at first an atmosphere of oil vapour stood
-over the oil, and this was impervious to more oil vapour,
-but on sweeping this out and replacing it by steam, the
-atmosphere above the liquid oil was permeable by oil
-vapour. This principle is largely applied in similar
-distillations.</p>
-
-<p>Always keeping in view that the primary problem in
-roasting is to raise the temperature throughout to the
-cooking heat without desiccation of the natural juices of
-the meat, and applying to this problem the laws of
-vapour diffusion expounded in my last, it is easy enough
-to understand the theoretical advantages of roasting in
-a closed oven, the space within which speedily becomes
-saturated with those particular vapours that resist
-further vaporisation of these juices.</p>
-
-<p>In all open-air roasting, whether by the one-sided
-fire of ordinary construction or the surrounding fire that
-I have suggested, convection currents are necessarily at
-work desiccating and toughening the meat in spite of
-the basting, though tempered thereby.</p>
-
-<p>I say ‘theoretical,’ because I despair of practically
-convincing any thoroughbred Englishman that baked
-meat is better than roasted meat by any reasoning
-whatever. If, however, he is sufficiently ‘un-English’
-to test the question experimentally, he may possibly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
-convince himself. To do this fairly, a large joint of
-meat should be equally divided, one half roasted in
-front of the fire, the other in a non-ventilated oven over
-a little water by a cook who knows how to heat the
-oven. This condition is essential, as some intelligence
-is demanded in regulating the temperature of an oven,
-while any barbarian can carry out the modern modification
-of the ordinary device of the savage, who skewers
-a bit of meat, and holds this near enough to a fire to
-make it frizzle.</p>
-
-<p>Having settled this question to my own satisfaction
-more than twenty years ago, I now amuse myself
-occasionally by experimenting upon others, and continually
-find that the most uncompromising theoretical
-haters of baked meat practically prefer it to orthodox
-roasted meat, provided always that they eat it in
-ignorance.</p>
-
-<p>Part II. of Count Rumford’s ‘Tenth Essay’ is devoted
-to his roaster and roasting generally, and occupies
-ninety-four pages, including the special preface. This
-preface is curious now, as it contains the following
-apology for delay of publication: ‘During several
-months, almost the whole of my time was taken up
-with the business of the Royal Institution; and those
-who are acquainted with the objects of that noble establishment
-will, no doubt, think that I judged wisely in
-preferring its interest to every other concern.’</p>
-
-<p>To those who attend the fashionable gatherings held
-on Friday evenings in ‘that noble establishment’ during
-the London season, it is almost comical to read what its
-founder says concerning the object for which it was
-instituted—viz. the noble purpose of <small>DIFFUSING THE
-KNOWLEDGE AND FACILITATING THE GENERAL INTRODUCTION
-OF NEW AND USEFUL INVENTIONS AND
-IMPROVEMENTS</small><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>.’ The capitals are Rumford’s, and he
-illustrates their meaning by reference to ‘the repository
-of this new establishment,’ where specimens of pots and
-kettles, ovens, roasters, fireplaces, gridirons, tea-kettles,
-kitchen-boilers, &amp;c., might be inspected.</p>
-
-<p>Some years ago, when I was sufficiently imprudent
-to accept an invitation to describe Rumford’s scientific
-researches in <i>one</i> Friday evening lecture, rigidly limited
-to fifty-seven minutes (and consequently muddled my
-subject in the vain struggle to condense it), I tried
-to find the original roaster, but failed; all that remained
-of the original ‘repository’ being a few models put out
-of the way as though they were empty wine-bottles. I
-am not finding fault, as the noble work that has been
-done there by Davy, Faraday, and Tyndall must have
-profoundly gladdened the supervising soul of Rumford
-(supposing that it does such spiritual supervision), in
-spite of his neglected roaster, which I must now describe
-without further digression.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 584px;"><a id="Fig_1"></a>
-<img src="images/i_071a.jpg" width="584" height="332" alt="some kind of apparatus" />
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 1.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>It is shown open and out of its setting in <a href="#Fig_1">Fig. 1</a>, and
-there seen as a hollow cylinder of sheet-iron, which, for
-ordinary use, may be about 18 inches in diameter and
-24 inches long, closed permanently at one end, and by a
-hinged double door of sheet-iron (<i>dd</i>) at the other. The
-doubling of the door is for the purpose of retaining the
-heat by means of an intervening lining of ill-conducting
-material. Or a single door of sheet-iron, with a panel
-of wood outside, may be used. The whole to be set
-horizontally in brickwork, as shown in <a href="#Fig_4">Fig. 4</a>, the door-front
-being flush with the front of the brickwork. The
-flame of the small fire below plays freely all round it by
-filling the enveloping flue-space indicated by the dotted
-lines on <a href="#Fig_4">Fig. 4</a>. Inside the cylinder is a shelf to support<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
-the dripping-pan (<i>d</i>) <a href="#Fig_1">Fig. 1</a>, which is separately shown
-in <a href="#Fig_2">Figs. 2</a> and <a href="#Fig_3">3</a>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"><a id="Fig_2"></a>
-<img src="images/i_071b.jpg" width="393" height="260" alt="Dripping pan" />
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 2.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>This dripping-pan is an important element of the
-apparatus. <a href="#Fig_3">Fig. 3</a> shows it in cross section, made up of
-two tin-plate dishes, one above the other, arranged to
-leave a space (<i>w</i>) between. This space contains water,
-half to three-quarters of an inch in depth. Above is a
-gridiron, shown in plan, <a href="#Fig_2">Fig. 2</a>, on which the meat rests;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
-the bars of this are shown in section in <a href="#Fig_3">Fig. 3</a>. The
-object of this arrangement is to prevent the fat which
-drips from the meat from being overheated and filling
-the roaster with the fumes of burnt—<i>i.e.</i> partially decomposed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
-fat and gravy, to the tainting influence of
-which Rumford attributed the English prejudice against
-baked meat. So long as any water remains the dripping
-cannot be raised more than two or three degrees above
-212°.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 385px;"><a id="Fig_3"></a>
-<img src="images/i_072a.jpg" width="385" height="99" alt="Side section of bars" />
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 3.</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figright" style="width: 377px;"><a id="Fig_4"></a>
-<img src="images/i_072.jpg" width="377" height="649" alt="element diagram" />
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 4.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The tube <i>v</i>, <a href="#Fig_1">Fig. 1</a>, is for carrying away vapour, if
-necessary. This tube may be opened or closed by
-means of a damper moved by the little handle shown
-on the right. The <i>heat</i> of the roaster is regulated by
-means of the register <i>c</i>, <a href="#Fig_4">Fig. 4</a>, in the ash-pit door of the
-fire-place, its <i>dryness</i> by the above-named damper of the
-steam tube <i>v</i>, and also by the blowpipes, <i>b p</i>.</p>
-
-<p>These are iron tubes, about 2½ in. in diameter, placed
-underneath, so as to be in the midst of the flame as
-it ascends from the fire into the enveloping flue, shown
-by the dotted lines, <a href="#Fig_4">Fig. 4</a>, where their external openings
-are shown at <i>b p</i>, <i>b p</i>, and the plugs by which they may
-be opened or closed in <a href="#Fig_1">Fig. 1</a>. It is evident that by
-removing these plugs, and opening the damper of the
-steam pipe, a blast of hot dry air will be delivered into
-the roaster at its back part, and it must pass forward to
-escape by the steam pipe. As these blowpipes are
-raised to a red heat when the fire is burning briskly, the
-temperature of this blast of air may be very high;
-with even a very moderate fire, sufficiently high to desiccate
-and spoil the meat if they were kept open during all
-the time of cooking. They are accordingly to be kept
-closed until the last stage of the roasting is reached;
-then the fire is urged by opening the ash-pit register,
-and when the blowpipes are about red-hot, their plugs
-are removed, and the steam-pipe damper is opened for a
-few minutes to brown the meat by means of the hot
-wind thus generated.</p>
-
-<p>It will be observed that a special fire directly under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
-the roaster is here designed, and that this fire is enclosed
-in brickwork. This is a general feature of Rumford’s
-arrangements. The economy of the whole device will
-be understood by the fact that in a test experiment at
-the Foundling Institution of London, he roasted 112 lbs.
-of beef with a consumption of only 22 lbs. of coal (three
-pennyworth, at 25<i>s.</i> per ton).</p>
-
-<p>Rumford tells us that ‘when these roasters were first
-proposed, and before their merit was established, many
-doubts were entertained respecting the taste of the food
-prepared in them,’ but that, after many practical trials, it
-was proved that ‘meat of every kind, without any exception,
-roasted in a roaster, is <i>better tasted, higher
-flavoured, and much more juicy and delicate</i> than when
-roasted on a spit before an open fire.’ These italics are
-in the original, and the testimony of competent judges
-is quoted.</p>
-
-<p>I must describe one experiment in detail. Two legs
-of mutton from the same carcass made equal in weight
-before cooking were roasted, one before the fire and the
-other in a roaster. When cooked, both were weighed,
-and the joint roasted in the roaster proved to be heavier
-than the other by 6 per cent. They were brought upon
-table at the same time, ‘and a large and perfectly
-unprejudiced company was assembled to eat them.’
-Both were found good, but a decided preference given to
-that cooked in the roaster; ‘it was much more juicy,
-and was thought better tasted.’ Both were fairly eaten
-up, nothing remaining of either that was eatable, and
-the fragments collected. ‘Of the leg of mutton which
-had been roasted in the roaster, hardly anything visible
-remained, excepting the bare bone, while a considerable
-heap was formed of scraps not eatable which remained
-of that roasted on a spit.’</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>This was an eloquent experiment; the gain of 6 per
-cent. tells of juices retained with consequent gain of
-flavour, tenderness, and digestibility, and the subsequent
-testimony of the scraps describes the difference in the
-condition of the tendonous, integumentary portions of
-the joints, which are just those that present the toughest
-practical problems to the cook, especially in roasting.</p>
-
-<p>But why are these roasters not in general use? Why
-did they die with their inventor, notwithstanding the
-fact, mentioned in his essay, that Mr. Hopkins, of Greek
-Street, Soho, had sold above 200, and others were
-making them?</p>
-
-<p>Those of my readers who have had practical experience
-in using hot air or in superheating steam, will
-doubtless have already detected a weak point in the
-‘blowpipes.’ When iron pipes are heated to redness, or
-thereabouts, and a blast of air or steam passes through
-them, they work admirably for a while, but presently
-the pipe gives way, for iron is a combustible substance,
-and burns slowly when heated and supplied with abundant
-oxygen, either by means of air or water; the latter
-being decomposed, its hydrogen set free, while its
-oxygen combines with the iron, and reduces it to friable
-oxide. Rumford does not appear to have understood
-this, or he would have made his blowpipes of fire-clay or
-other refractory non-oxidisable material.</p>
-
-<p>The records of the Great Seal Office contain specifications
-of hundreds of ingenious inventions that have failed
-most vexatiously from this defect; and I could tell of
-joint-stock companies that have been ‘floated’ to carry
-out inventions involving the use of heated air or super-heated
-steam that have worked beautifully and with
-apparent economy while the shares were in the market,
-and then collapsed just when the calls were paid up, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
-cost of renewal of superheaters and hot-air chambers
-having worse than annulled the economy of working
-fuel described in the prospectus. Thus a vessel driven
-by heated air, as a substitute for steam, was fitted up
-with its caloric engine, and crossed the Atlantic with
-passengers on board. The voyage practically demonstrated
-a great saving of coal; the patent rights were
-purchased accordingly for a very large amount, and
-shares went up buoyantly until the oxidation of the
-great air chamber proved that the engine burned iron as
-well as coal at a ruinous cost.</p>
-
-<p>Although no mention is made by Rumford of such
-destruction of the blowpipes, he was evidently conscious
-of the costliness of his original roaster, as he describes
-another which may be economically substituted for it.
-This has an air chamber formed by bringing down the
-body of the oven so as to enclose the space occupied by
-the blowpipes shown in <a href="#Fig_1">Fig. 1</a>, and placing the dripping-pan
-on a false bottom joined to the front face of the
-roaster just below the door, but not extending quite to
-the back. An adjustable register door opens at the front
-into this air chamber, and when this is opened the air
-passes along from front to back under the false bottom,
-and rises behind to an outlet pipe like that shown at <i>v</i>,
-<a href="#Fig_1">Fig. 1</a>. In thus passing along the hot bottom of the oven
-the air is heated, but not so greatly as by the blowpipes,
-which being surrounded by the flame on all sides,
-are heated above as well as below, and the air in passing
-through them is much more exposed to heat than in
-passing through the air-chamber.</p>
-
-<p>To increase the heat transmitted in the latter, Rumford
-proposes that ‘a certain quantity of iron wire, in
-loose coils, or of iron turnings, be put into the air
-chamber.’</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>This modification he called a ‘roasting-oven,’ to distinguish
-it from the first described, the ‘roaster.’ He
-states that the roasting-oven is not quite so effective as
-the roaster, but from its greater cheapness may be largely
-used. This anticipation has been realised. The modern
-‘kitchener,’ which in so many forms is gradually and
-steadily supplanting the ancient open range, is an apparatus
-in which roasting in the open air before a fire is
-superseded by roasting in a closed chamber or roasting-oven.
-Having made three removals within the last
-twelve years, each preceded by a tedious amount of
-house-hunting, I have seen a great many kitchens of
-newly-built houses, and find that about 90 per cent. of
-these have closed kitcheners, and only about 10 per cent.
-are fitted with open ranges of the old pattern. Bottle-jacks,
-like smoke-jacks and spits, are gradually falling
-into disuse.</p>
-
-<p>When these kitcheners were first introduced, a great
-point was made by the manufacturer of the distinction
-between the roasting and the baking-oven; the first being
-provided with a special apparatus for effecting ventilation
-by devices more or less resembling that in Rumford’s
-roasting-oven. Gradually these degenerated into
-mere shams, and now in the best kitcheners even a pretence
-to ventilation is abandoned. Having reasoned out
-my own theory of the conditions demanded for perfect
-roasting some time ago (about 1860, when I lectured on
-‘Household Philosophy,’ to a class of ladies at the Birmingham
-and Midland Institute), I have watched the
-gradual disappearance of these concessions to popular
-prejudice with some interest, as they show how practical
-experience has confirmed my theory, which, as already
-expounded, is that <i>fresh meat should be cooked by the action
-of radiant heat, projected towards it from all sides, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
-it is immersed in an atmosphere nearly saturated with its
-own vapours</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Let it be clearly understood that I refer to the vapours
-as they rise from the meat, and not to the vapour of
-burnt dripping, which Rumford describes. The acrid
-properties of the products of such partial dissociation
-are far better understood by modern chemists than they
-were in Rumford’s time.</p>
-
-<p>His water dripping-pan effectually prevents their formation.
-It is still manufactured of the precise pattern
-shown in the drawing, copied from Rumford’s, and cooks
-who understand their business at all use it as a matter
-of course.</p>
-
-<p>The few domestic fireplace-ovens that existed in
-Rumford’s time were clumsily heated by raking some of
-the fire from the grate into a space left below the oven.
-Those of the best modern kitcheners are heated by flues
-going round them, generally starting from the top, which
-thus attains the highest temperature. The radiation from
-this does the ‘browning’ for which Rumford’s blowpipes
-were designed.</p>
-
-<p>Here I differ from my teacher, as, according to my
-view of the philosophy of roasting, the browning, or the
-application of the highest temperature, should take place
-at the beginning rather than the end of the process, in
-order that a crust of firmly coagulated albumen may
-surround the joint and retain the juices of the meat. All
-that is necessary to obtain this effect in a sufficient
-degree is to raise the roasting-oven to an excessive
-temperature before the meat is put in. Supposing an
-equal fire is maintained all the while, this excessive
-initial temperature will presently decline, because, when
-the meat is in the oven, the radiant heat from its sides
-is intercepted by the joint and doing work upon it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
-heat cannot do work without a corresponding fall of temperature.
-While the oven is empty the radiations from
-each side cross the open space to reinforce the temperature
-of the other sides.</p>
-
-<p>When I first decided to write on this subject I made
-some designs for kitchen thermometers intending to have
-them made, and to recommend their use; but was not
-successful. When a man condemns his own inventions, his
-verdict may be safely accepted without further inquiry.</p>
-
-<p>I afterwards learned that Messrs. Davis &amp; Co. had
-already constructed special oven thermometers, to be so
-attached to the oven-door that the bulb should be inside
-and the tube having the expansion of the mercury outside,
-and therefore readable without opening the door,
-as shown in <a href="#Fig_5">Fig. 5</a>, and another for standing inside the
-oven, <a href="#Fig_6">Fig. 6</a>.</p>
-
-<p>I learned by these thermometers the cause of my own
-failure. I tried to do too much—to construct one form
-of thermometer to do all kinds of kitchen work. A
-thermometer suitable for the oven is not applicable to
-trying the temperature of a fat-bath used in frying. I
-accordingly wrote to Messrs. Davis asking them to devise
-a thermometer for this purpose. They have done so. It
-is described in the next chapter.</p>
-
-<div class="figleft" style="width: 155px;"><a id="Fig_5"></a>
-<a href="images/i_080a-big.jpg"><img src="images/i_080a.jpg" width="155" height="428" alt="thermomenter" /></a>
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 5.</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figright" style="width: 305px;"><a id="Fig_6"></a>
-<img src="images/i_080b.jpg" width="305" height="658" alt="different view of thermometer" />
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 6.</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Is there, then, any difference at all between roasting
-and baking? There is. In roasting, the temperature,
-after the first start, is maintained about uniformly
-throughout; while in baking bread by the old-fashioned
-method, the temperature continually declines from the
-beginning to the end of the process; but in order that a
-dweller in cities, or the cook of an ordinary town household,
-may understand this difference, some explanation
-is necessary. The old-fashioned oven, such as was generally
-used in Rumford’s time, and is still used in country<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
-houses and by old-fashioned bakers, is an arched cavity
-of brick with a flat brick floor. This cavity is closed by
-a suitable door, which in its primitive, and perhaps its
-best form, was a flat tile pressed against the opening and
-luted round with clay. Such ovens were, and still are,
-heated by simply spreading on the brick floor a sufficient
-quantity of wood—preferably well-dried twigs; these,
-being lighted, raise the temperature of the arched roof<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
-to a glowing heat, and that of the floor in a somewhat
-lower degree. When this heating is completed (the judgement
-of which constitutes the chief element of skill in
-thus baking) the embers are carefully brushed out from the
-floor, the loaves, &amp;c., inserted by means of a flat battledore
-with a long handle, called a ‘peel,’ and the door closed
-and firmly luted round, not to be opened until the operation
-is complete. Baked clay is an excellent radiator,
-and therefore the surface of bricks forming the arched
-roof of the oven radiates vigorously upon its contents
-below, which are thus heated at top by radiation from
-the roof, and at bottom by direct contact with the floor
-of the oven. The difference between the compact bottom
-crust, and the darker bubble-bearing top crust of an
-ordinary loaf is thus explained.</p>
-
-<p>As the baking of a large joint of meat is a longer
-operation than the baking of bread, there is another
-reason besides that already given for the inferiority of
-meat when baked in a baker’s oven constructed on this
-principle. The slow cooling-down must tend to produce
-a flabbiness and insipidity similar to that of the roast
-meat which is served at restaurants where a joint remains
-‘in cut’ for two or three hours. Of this I speak theoretically,
-not having had an opportunity of tasting a joint
-that has been cooked in a brick oven of the construction
-above described; but I have observed the advantage of
-maintaining a steady heat throughout the process of
-roasting (after the first higher heating above described),
-in the iron oven of a kitchener, or American stove, or
-gas oven.</p>
-
-<p>Another and somewhat original method of roasting
-is that which is carried out in ‘Captain Warren’s Cooking
-Pot,’ concerning the practical result of which I hear conflicting
-opinions. It is a large pot containing water,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
-inside which is suspended—like the glue chamber of a
-glue-pot—an inner vessel. The meat to be cooked is
-placed without water in this inner closed vessel, which
-dips into the water of the outer vessel, the steam from
-which is led away by a side opening or pipe. This
-outer water being kept boiling, the meat is surrounded
-only by its own vapour, in the midst of which it is
-cooked at a low temperature.</p>
-
-<p>The result is similar to boiled meat, with the advantage
-of retaining those juices that pass away into the
-water in ordinary boiling. This advantage is unquestionable,
-and so far the apparatus may be safely recommended.
-But some of the claims made in the prospectuses
-that are freely distributed are questionable.</p>
-
-<p>The method of roasting with Warren’s pot is to cook
-the meat as above described in its own vapour, then
-dredge with flour, and hang before the fire twenty
-minutes. The result is a tender imitation of roast meat,
-but more like boiled than roasted meat in flavour. This
-is much approved by many, but I am told that meat
-thus cooked and eaten daily palls upon the appetite. I
-know one, a youth (not one of our fastidious fops of the
-period), who, fed upon this at school during a few years,
-has thereby acquired a fixed aversion to boiled meat of
-all kinds.</p>
-
-<p>Regarding the subject theoretically, it appears to me
-that the method recommended by Captain Warren, and
-followed by those who use his cooker, should be reversed
-for roasting; that the meat should have the twenty
-minutes before the fire—or in a hot oven—before, instead
-of after, its stewing in its own vapour. Some experiments
-I have made confirm this view so far as they go,
-but are not sufficiently numerous to settle the question.</p>
-
-<p>For stewing of all kinds, and for such concoctions as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
-Rumford’s soup (<i>see</i> <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Chapter XIV</a>.), it is an admirable
-apparatus, and the contrivances for carrying the steam
-from the outer vessel to a vegetable steamer above the
-cooking chamber, before described, is very ingenious and
-effective.</p>
-
-<p>The statement in the prospectus, that the ‘nourishing
-juices’ otherwise wasted ‘are by that mode condensed,
-and form at the bottom of the vessel a rich
-gelatinous body,’ is misleading.</p>
-
-<p>Gelatin is not volatile; the gelatinous body at the
-bottom of the vessel is not composed of condensed
-vapours, though condensed vapour of water is concerned
-in its formation. It is simply some of the gelatin of
-the joint dissolved by the water which condenses upon
-it, and finally drips down from the joint, carrying with it
-the dissolved gelatin.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a><br />
-
-<small>FRYING.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">The</span> process of frying follows next in natural order to
-those of roasting and grilling. A little reflection will
-show that in frying the heat is not communicated to the
-food by radiation from a heated surface at some distance,
-but by direct contact with the heating medium, which
-is the hot fat commonly, but erroneously, described as
-‘boiling fat.’</p>
-
-<p>As I am writing for intelligent readers who desire to
-understand the philosophy of the common processes of
-cookery, so far as they are understandable, this fallacy
-concerning boiling fat should be pushed aside at once.</p>
-
-<p>Generally speaking, ordinary animal fats are not
-boilable under the pressure of our atmosphere (one of
-the constituent fatty acids of butter, butyric acid, is an
-exception; it boils at 314° Fahr.). Before reaching their
-boiling-point, <i>i.e.</i> the temperature at which they pass
-completely into the state of vapour, their constituents
-are more or less dissociated or separated by the repulsive
-agency of the heat, new compounds being in many cases
-formed by recombinations of their elements.</p>
-
-<p>When water is heated to 212° it is converted completely
-into a gas, which gas, on cooling below 212°, returns
-to the fluid state without any loss. In like manner
-if we raise an essential oil, such as turpentine, to 320°,
-or oil of peppermint to 340°, or orange-peel oil to 345°,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
-or patchouli to 489°, and other such oils to certain other
-temperatures, they pass into a state of vapour, and these
-vapours, when cooled, recondense into their original form
-of liquid oil without alteration. Hence they are called
-‘volatile oils,’ while the greasy oils which cannot thus be
-distilled (in which class animal fats are included) are
-called ‘fixed oils.’</p>
-
-<p>A very simple practical means of distinguishing
-these is the following: make a spot of the oil to be
-tested on clean blotting-paper. Heat this by holding it
-above a spirit-lamp flame, or by toasting before a fire.
-If the oil is volatile the spot disappears; if fixed, it
-remains as a spot of grease until the heat is raised high
-enough to char the paper, of which charring (a result of
-the dissociation above-named) the oil partakes.</p>
-
-<p>But the practical cook may say, ‘This is wrong, for
-the fat in my frying-pan does boil. I see it boil, and I
-hear it boil.’ The reply to this is, that the lard, or
-dripping, or butter that you put into your frying-pan is
-oil mixed with water, and that it is not the oil but the
-water that you see boiling. To prove this, take some
-fresh lard, as usually supplied, and heat it in any convenient
-vessel, raising the temperature gradually. Presently
-it will begin to splutter. If you try it with a
-thermometer you will find that this spluttering-point
-agrees with the boiling-point of water, and if you use a
-retort you may condense and collect the splutter-matter,
-and prove it to be water. So long as the spluttering
-continues the temperature of the melted fat, <i>i.e.</i> the oil,
-remains about the same, the water vapour carrying away
-the heat. When all the water is driven off the liquid
-becomes quiescent, in spite of its temperature rising
-from 212° to above 400°, when a pungent smoky vapour
-comes off and the oil grows darker; this vapour is not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
-vapour of lard, but vapour of separated and recombined
-constituents of the lard, which is now suffering dissociation,
-the volatile products passing off while the
-non-volatile carbon (<i>i.e.</i> lard-charcoal) remains behind,
-colouring the liquid. If the heating be continued, a
-residuum of this carbon, in the form of soft coke or charcoal,
-will be all that remains in the heated vessel.</p>
-
-<p>We may now understand what happens when something
-humid—say a sole—is put into a frying-pan which
-contains fat heated above 212°. Water, when suddenly
-heated above its boiling-point, is a powerful explosive,
-and may be very dangerous, simply because it expands
-to 1,728 times its original bulk when converted into
-steam. Steam-engine boilers and the boilers of kitchen
-stoves sometimes explode by becoming red-hot while
-dry, and then receiving a little water which suddenly
-expands to steam.</p>
-
-<p>The noise and spluttering that is started immediately
-the sole is immersed in the hot fat is due to the explosion
-of a multitude of small bubbles formed by the confinement
-of the suddenly expanding steam in the viscous
-fat, from which it releases itself with a certain degree of
-violence. It is evident that to effect this amount of
-eruptive violence, the temperature must be considerably
-above the boiling-point of the exploding water. If it
-were only just at the boiling-point, the water would boil
-quietly.</p>
-
-<p>As we all know, the flavour and appearance of a
-boiled sole or mackerel are decidedly different from
-those of a fried sole or mackerel, and it is easy to understand
-that the different results of these cooking processes
-are to some extent due to the difference of temperature
-to which the fish is subjected. It will be at once understood
-that my theory of the chief difference between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
-roasted or grilled meat and boiled meat applies to fried
-fish; that the flavouring juices are retained when the fish
-is fried, while more or less of them escape into the water
-when boiled.</p>
-
-<p>Besides this, the surface of the fried fish, like that of
-the roasted or grilled meat, is ‘browned.’ What is the
-nature, the chemistry of this browning?</p>
-
-<p>I have endeavoured to find some answer to this
-question, that I might quote with authority, but no
-technological or purely chemical work within my reach
-supplies such answer. Rumford refers to it as essential
-to roasting, and provides for it in the manner already
-described, but he goes no farther into the philosophy of
-it than admitting its flavouring effect.</p>
-
-<p>I must therefore struggle with the problem in my
-own way as I best can. Has the gentle reader ever
-attempted the manufacture of ‘hard-bake,’ or ‘toffy,’ or
-‘butter-scotch,’ by mixing sugar with butter, fusing the
-mixture, and heating further until the well-known hard,
-brown confection is produced? I venture to call this
-fried sugar. If heated simply without the butter it may
-be called baked sugar. The scientific name for this
-baked sugar is <i>caramel</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The chemical changes that take place in the browning
-of sugar have been more systematically studied than
-those which occur in the constituents of flesh when
-browned in the course of ordinary cookery. Believing
-them to be nearly analogous, I will state, as briefly as
-possible, the leading facts concerning the sugar.</p>
-
-<p>Ordinary sugar is crystalline, <i>i.e.</i> when it passes
-from the liquid to the solid state it assumes regular
-geometrical forms. If the solidification takes place undisturbed
-and slowly, the geometric crystals are large,
-as in sugar-candy; if the water is rapidly evaporated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
-with agitation, the crystals are small, and the whole mass
-is a granular aggregation of crystals, such as we see in
-loaf sugar. If this crystalline sugar be heated to about
-320° Fahr. it fuses, and without any change of chemical
-composition undergoes some sort of internal physical
-alteration that makes it cohere in a different fashion.
-(The learned name for this action is <i>allotropism</i>, and the
-substance is said to be <i>allotropic</i>, other conditioned; or
-<i>dimorphic</i>, two-shaped). Instead of being crystalline the
-sugar now becomes vitreous, it solidifies as a transparent
-amber-coloured glass-like substance, the well-known
-barley-sugar, which differs from crystalline sugar not
-only in this respect, but has a much lower melting-point;
-it liquefies between 190° and 212°, while loaf-sugar does
-not fuse below 320°. Left to itself, vitreous sugar returns
-gradually to its original condition, loses transparency,
-and breaks up into small crystals. In doing this it
-gives out the heat which during its vitreous condition
-had been doing the work of breaking up its crystalline
-structure, and therefore was not manifested as temperature.</p>
-
-<p>This return to the crystalline condition is retarded
-by adding vinegar or mucilaginous matter to the heated
-sugar; hence the confectioners’ name of ‘barley-sugar,’
-which, in one of its old-fashioned forms, was prepared
-by boiling down ordinary sugar in a decoction of pearl
-barley.</p>
-
-<p>The French cooks and confectioners carry on the
-heating of sugar through various stages bearing different
-technical names, one of the most remarkable of which is
-a splendid crimson variety, largely used in fancy sweetmeats,
-and containing no foreign colouring matter, as
-commonly supposed. Though nothing is added, something
-is taken away, and this is some of the chemically-combined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
-water of the original sugar, in the parting
-with which not only a change of colour occurs, but also
-a modification of flavour, as anybody may prove by
-experiment.</p>
-
-<p>When the temperature is gradually raised to 420°,
-the sugar loses two equivalents of water, and becomes
-<i>caramel</i>—a dark-brown substance, no longer sweet, but
-having a new flavour of its own. It further differs from
-sugar by being incapable of fermentation.</p>
-
-<p>The first stage of this cookery of sugar has now an
-archæological interest in connection with one of the lost
-arts of the kitchen, viz. the ‘spinning’ of sugar. Within
-the reach of my own recollection no evening party could
-pretend to be stylish unless the supper-table was decorated
-with a specimen of this art—a temple, a pagoda,
-or something of the sort done in barley-sugar. These
-were made by raising the sugar to 320°, when it fused
-and became amorphous, or vitreous, as already described.
-The cook then dipped a skewer into it; the melted
-vitreous sugar adhered to this, and was drawn out as a
-thread, which speedily solidified by cooling. While in
-the act of solidification it was woven into the desired
-form, and the skilful artist did this with wonderful
-rapidity. I once witnessed with childish delight the
-spinning of a great work of art by the Duke of Cumberland’s
-French cook in St. James’s Palace. It was a ship
-in full sail, the sails of edible wafer, the hull a basketwork
-of spun sugar, the masts of massive sugar-sticks,
-and the rigging of delicate threads of the same. As
-nearly as I can remember, the whole was completed in
-about an hour.</p>
-
-<p>But to return from high art below stairs to chemical
-science. The conversion of sugar into caramel is, as
-already stated, attended with a change of flavour; a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
-kind of bitterness replaces the sweetness. This peculiar
-flavour, judiciously used, is a powerful adjunct to
-cookery, and one which is shamefully neglected in our
-ordinary English domestic kitchens. To test this, go to
-one of those Swiss restaurants originally instituted in
-this country by that enterprising Ticinese, the late Carlo
-Gatti, and which are now so numerous in London and
-our other large towns; call for <i>maccheroni al sugo;</i>
-notice the rich brown gravy, the ‘sugo.’ Many an
-English cook would use half a pound of gravy beef to
-produce the like; but the basis of this is a halfpennyworth
-or less of what I call a caramel compound, as an
-example of which I copy the following recipe from the
-Household Edition of Gouffé’s ‘Royal Cookery Book:’
-‘Melt half a pound of butter; add one pound of flour;
-mix well, and leave on a slow fire, stirring occasionally
-until it becomes of a light mahogany colour. When
-cool it may be kept in the larder ready for use.’ Gouffé
-calls this ‘Liaison au Roux;’ the English for <i>liaison</i> is
-a thickening. It is really fried flour. Burnt onion is
-another form of caramel, with a special flavour superadded.
-Plain sugar caramel is improved by the use of
-a little butter, as in making toffee. Thus prepared it is
-really a fried sugar rather than a baked sugar. <i>Beurre
-noir</i> (black butter) is another of the caramelised preparations
-used by continental cooks.</p>
-
-<p>While engaged upon your macaroni, look around at
-the other dishes served to other customers. Instead of
-the pale slices of meat spread out in a little puddle of
-pale watery liquid, that are served in English restaurants
-of corresponding class, you will see dainty morsels,
-covered with rich brown gravy, or surrounded by vegetables
-immersed in the same. This ‘sugo’ is greatly
-varied according to the requirements, by additions of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
-stock-broth, tarragon vinegar, ketchup, &amp;c., but burnt
-flour, burnt sugar, or burnt onions, or burnt something
-is the basis of it all.</p>
-
-<p>To further test the flavouring properties of browning,
-take some eels cut up as usual for stewing; divide into
-two portions; stew one brutally—by this I mean simply
-in a little water—serving them with this water as a pale
-gravy or juice. Let the second portion be well fried,
-fully caramelised or browned, then stewed, and served
-with brown gravy. Compare the result. Make a corresponding
-experiment with a beefsteak. Cut it in two
-portions; stew one brutally in plain water; fry the
-other, then stew it and serve brown.</p>
-
-<p>Take a highly-baked loaf—better one that is black
-outside; scrape off the film of crust that is quite black,
-<i>i.e.</i> completely carbonised, and you will come to a rich
-brown layer, especially if you operate upon the bottom
-crust. Slice off a thin shaving of this and eat it critically.
-Mark its high flavour as compared with the
-comparatively insipid crumb of the same loaf, and note
-especially the resemblance between this flavour and that
-of the caramel from sugar, and that of the browned eels
-and browned steak. A delicate way of detecting the
-flavour due to the browning of bread is to make two
-bowls of bread and milk in the same manner, one with
-the crust the other with the crumb of the same loaf. I
-am not suggesting these as examples of better or worse
-flavour, but as evidence of the fact that much flavour of
-some sort is generated. It may be out of place, as I
-think it is, in the bread and milk, or it may be added
-with much advantage to other things, as it is by the cook
-who manipulates caramel and its analogues skilfully.</p>
-
-<p>The largest constituent of bread is starch. Excluding
-water, it constitutes about three-fourths of the weight of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
-good wheaten flour. Starch differs but little from sugar
-in composition. It is easily converted into sugar by
-simply heating it with a little sulphuric acid, and by
-other means, of which I shall have to speak more fully
-hereafter, when I come to the cookery of vegetables.
-When simply heated, it is converted into dextrin or
-‘British gum,’ largely used as a substitute for gum
-arabic. If the heat is continued a change of colour
-takes place; it grows darker and darker, until it
-blackens just as sugar does, the final result being nearly
-the same. Water is driven off in both cases, but in
-carbonising sugar we start with more water, sugar being
-starch plus water or the elements of water. Thus the
-brown material of bread-crust or toast is nearly identical
-with sugar caramel.</p>
-
-<p>I have often amused myself by watching what occurs
-when toast and water is prepared, and I recommend my
-readers to repeat the observation. Toast a small piece
-of bread to blackness, and then float it on water in a
-glass vessel. Leave the water at rest, and direct your
-attention to the under side of the floating toast. Little
-threadlike streams of brown liquid will be seen descending
-in the water. This is a solution of the substance
-which, if I mistake not, is a sort of caramel, and which
-ultimately tinges all the water.</p>
-
-<p>Some years ago I commenced a course of experiments
-with this substance, but did not complete them.
-In case I should never do so, I will here communicate
-the results attained. I found that this starch caramel is
-a disinfectant, and that sugar caramel also has some disinfecting
-properties. I am not prepared to say that it
-is powerful enough to disinfect sewage, though at the
-time I had a narrow escape from the Great Seal Office,
-where I thought of patenting it for this purpose as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
-non-poisonous disinfectant that may be poured into
-rivers in any quantity without danger. Though it may
-not be powerful enough for this, it has an appreciable
-effect on water slightly tainted with decomposing organic
-matter.</p>
-
-<p>This is a very curious fact. We do not know who
-invented toast and water, nor, so far as I can learn, has
-any theory of its use been expounded, yet there is extant
-a vague popular impression that the toast has some sort
-of wholesome effect on the water. I suspect that this
-must have been originally based on experience, probably
-on the experience of our forefathers or foremothers,
-living in country places where stagnant water was a
-common beverage, and various devices were adopted to
-render it potable.</p>
-
-<p>Gelatin, fibrin, albumen, &amp;c.—<i>i.e.</i> all the materials
-of animal food—as already shown, are composed, like
-starch and sugar, of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, with,
-in the case of these animal substances, the addition of
-nitrogen; but this does not prevent their partial carbonisation
-(or ‘caramelising,’ if I may invent a name to
-express the action which stops short of blackening).
-Animal fat is a hydrocarbon which may be similarly
-browned, and, if I am right in my generalisation of all
-these browning processes, an important practical conclusion
-follows, viz. that cheap soluble caramel made by
-skilfully heating common sugar or flour is really, as well
-as apparently, as valuable an element in gravies, &amp;c., as
-the far more expensive colouring matter of brown meat
-gravies, and that our English cooks should use it far
-more liberally than they usually do.</p>
-
-<p>The preparation of sugar caramel is easy enough;
-the sugar should be gradually heated till it assumes a
-rich brown colour and has lost its original sweetness. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
-carried just far enough, the result is easily soluble in hot
-water, and the solution may be kept for a long time, as
-it is by cooks who understand its merits. In connection
-with the idea of its disinfecting action, I may refer to
-the cookery of tainted meat or ‘high’ game. A hare
-that is repulsively advanced when raw may, by much
-roasting and browning, become quite wholesome; and
-such is commonly the case in the ordinary cooking of
-hares. If it were boiled or merely stewed (without preliminary
-browning) in this condition, it would be quite
-disgusting to ordinary palates.</p>
-
-<p>A leg of mutton for roasting should be hung until it
-begins to become odorous; for boiling it should be as
-fresh as possible. This should be especially remembered
-now that we have so much frozen meat imported from
-the antipodes. When duly thawed it is in splendid
-condition for roasting, but is not usually so satisfactory
-when boiled. I may here mention incidentally that such
-meat is sometimes unjustly condemned on account of its
-displaying a raw centre when cooked. This arises from
-imperfect thawing. The heat required to thaw a given
-weight of ice and bring it up to 60° is about the same
-as is demanded for the cookery of an equal quantity of
-meat, and therefore, while the thawed portion of the
-meat is being cooked, the frozen portion is but just
-thawed, and remains quite raw.</p>
-
-<p>A much longer time is demanded for thawing—<i>i.e.</i>
-supplying 142° of latent heat—than might be supposed.
-To ascertain whether the thawing is completed, drive an
-iron skewer through the thickest part of the joint. If
-there is a core of ice within it will be distinctly felt by
-its resistance.</p>
-
-<p>A correspondent asks me which is the most nutritious—a
-slice of English beef in its own gravy or the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
-browned morsel as served in an Italian restaurant with
-the caramel addition to the gravy?</p>
-
-<p>This is a very fair question, and not difficult to answer.
-If both are equally cooked, neither overdone nor underdone,
-they must contain, weight for weight, exactly the
-same constituents in equally digestible form, so far as
-chemical composition is concerned. Whether they will
-actually be digested with equal facility and assimilated
-with equal completeness depends upon something else
-not measurable by chemical analysis, viz. the relish
-with which they are respectively eaten. To some
-persons the undisguised fleshiness of the English slice,
-especially if underdone, is very repugnant. To these
-the corresponding morsel, cooked according to Gouffé
-rather than Mrs. Beeton, would be more nutritious. To
-the carnivorous John Bull, who regards such dishes as
-‘nasty French messes’ of questionable composition, the
-slice of unmistakable ox-flesh, from a visible joint, would
-obtain all the advantages of appreciative mastication,
-and that sympathy between the brain and the stomach
-which is so powerful that, when discordantly exerted, it
-may produce the effects that are recorded in the case of
-the sporting traveller who was invited by a Red Indian
-chief to a ‘dog-fight,’ and ate with relish the savoury
-dishes at what he supposed to be a preliminary banquet.
-Digestion was tranquilly and healthfully proceeding,
-under the soothing influence of the calumet, when he
-asked the chief when the fight would commence. On
-being told that it was over, and that, in the final ragoût
-he had praised so highly, the last puppy-dog possessed
-by the tribe had been cooked in his honour, the normal
-course of digestion of the honoured guest was completely
-reversed.</p>
-
-<p>Before leaving the subject of caramel, I should say a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
-few words about French coffee, or ‘Coffee as in France,’
-of which we hear so much. There are two secrets
-upon which depend the excellence of our neighbours
-in the production of this beverage. First, economy in
-using the water; second, flavouring with caramel. As
-regards the first, it appears that English housewives
-have been demoralised by the habitual use of tea, and
-apply to the infusion of coffee the popular formula for
-that of tea, ‘a spoonful for each person and one for the
-pot.’</p>
-
-<p>The French after-dinner coffee-cup has about one-third
-of the liquid capacity of a full-sized English
-breakfast-cup, but the quantity of solid coffee supplied
-to each cupful is more than equal to that ordinarily
-allowed for the larger English measure of water.</p>
-
-<p>Besides this, the coffee is commonly, though not universally,
-flavoured with a specially and skilfully-prepared
-caramel, instead of the chicory so largely used in
-England. Much of the so-called ‘French coffee’ now
-sold by our grocers in tins is caramel flavoured with
-coffee rather than coffee flavoured with caramel, and
-many shrewd English housewives have discovered that
-by mixing the cheapest of these French coffees with an
-equal quantity of pure coffee they obtain a better result
-than with the common domestic mixture of three parts
-coffee and one of chicory.</p>
-
-<p>A few months ago a sample of ‘coffee-finings’ was
-sent to me for chemical examination, that I might certify
-to its composition and wholesomeness. I described
-it in my report as ‘a caramel, with a peculiarly rich
-aroma and flavour, evidently due to the vegetable juices
-or extractive matter naturally united with the saccharine
-substance from which it is prepared.’ I had no definite
-information of the exact nature of this saccharine substance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
-but have since learned that it was a bye-product
-of sugar refining.</p>
-
-<p>Neither the juice of the beetroot nor the sap of the
-sugar-cane consists entirely of pure sugar dissolved in
-pure water. They both contain other constituents common
-to vegetable juices, and some peculiar to themselves.
-These mucilaginous matters, when roughly separated,
-carry down with them some sugar, and form a sort of
-coarse sweetwort, capable by skilful treatment of producing
-a rich caramel well suited for mixing with
-coffee.</p>
-
-<p>Returning to the subject of frying, we encounter a
-good illustration of the practical importance of sound
-theory. A great deal of fish and other kinds of food
-is badly and wastefully cooked in consequence of the
-prevalence of a false theory of frying. It is evident that
-many domestic cooks (not hotel or restaurant cooks)
-have a vague idea that the metal plate forming the
-bottom of the frying-pan should directly convey the
-heat of the fire to the fried substance, and that the bit
-of butter or lard or dripping put into the pan is used to
-prevent the fish from sticking to it or to add to the richness
-of the fish by smearing its surface.</p>
-
-<p>The theory which I have propounded above is that
-the melted fat cooks by convection of heat, just as water
-does in the so-called boiling of meat. If this is correct,
-it is evident that the fish, &amp;c., should be completely
-immersed in a bath of melted fat or oil, and that the
-turning over demanded by the greased-plate theory
-is unnecessary. Well educated cooks understand this
-distinctly, and use a deeper vessel than our common
-frying-pan, charge this with a quantity of fat sufficient
-to cover the fish, which is simply laid upon a wire support,
-or frying-basket and left in the hot fat until the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
-browning of its surface, or of the flour or bread-crumbs
-with which it is coated indicates the sufficiency of the
-cookery. The illustration is from Gouffé’s excellent
-cookery-book already quoted, and is introduced because
-I have found it so little understood by English housewives.
-Frying-kettles may now be purchased at all
-our best English ironmongers, though until recently
-they were difficult to obtain. My lectures and papers
-have largely extended the demand and consequent
-supply.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"><a id="Fig_7"></a>
-<img src="images/i_098.jpg" width="457" height="488" alt="strainer or grease basket above cooking pot" />
-<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig. 7.</span></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>At first sight the deep fat bath appears extravagant,
-as compared with the practice of greasing the bottom
-of the pan with a little dab of fat, but any housewife
-who will apply to the frying of sprats, herrings, &amp;c., the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
-method of quantitative inductive research, described and
-advocated by Lord Bacon in his ‘Novum Organum
-Scientiarum,’ may prove the contrary.</p>
-
-<p>‘Must I read the “Novum Organum,” and buy
-another dictionary, in order to translate all this?’ she
-may exclaim in despair. ‘No!’ is my reply. This
-Baconian inductive method, to which we are indebted
-for all the triumphs of modern science, is nothing more
-nor less than the systematic and orderly application of
-common sense and definite measurement to practical
-questions. In this case it may be applied simply by
-frying a weighed quantity of any kind of fish or cutlet,
-&amp;c., in a weighed quantity of fat used as a bath; then
-weighing the fat that remains and subtracting the latter
-weight from the first, to determine the quantity consumed.
-If the frying be properly performed, and this
-quantity compared with that which is consumed by the
-method of merely greasing the pan-bottom, the bath
-frying will be proved to be the more economical as well
-as the more efficient method.</p>
-
-<p>The reason of this is simply that much or all of the
-fat is burnt and wasted when only a thin film is spread
-on the bottom of the pan, while no such waste occurs
-when the bath of fat is properly used. The temperature
-at which the dissociation of fat <i>commences</i> is below that
-required for delicately browning the surface of the fish
-itself, or of the flour or bread-crumbs, and therefore no
-fat is burnt away from the bath, as it is by the over-heated
-portions of a merely greased frying-pan; and as
-regards the quantity adhering to the fish itself, this may
-be reduced to a minimum by withdrawing it from the
-bath when <i>the whole</i> is uniformly at the maximum
-cooking temperature, and allowing the fluid fat to drain
-off at once. It may be supposed that by complete<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
-immersion of the fish in the fat-bath, more fat will soak
-into it, but such is not the case; the water amidst the
-fibres of the fish is boiling and driving out steam so
-rapidly that no fat can enter if the heat is well maintained
-to the last moment, and the frying not continued
-too long. When cooked on the greased plate, one side
-is necessarily cooling, and the fat settling down into the
-fish to occupy the pores left vacuous by the condensing
-steam, while the other is being heated from below.</p>
-
-<p>The temperature of the fat-bath may be tested by
-the ordinary cook’s method—that of throwing into it a
-small piece of bread-crumb about the size of a nut. If it
-frizzles and produces large bubbles of steam, the full temperature
-of frying in the hottest of fat is reached; if it
-frizzles slightly, and only gives out small steam-bubbles,
-you have the temperature demanded for slow frying.</p>
-
-<p>The bath-frying demands separate supplies of fat<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>—one
-for fish, another for cutlets and other similar
-kinds of meat, a third for such goody-goodies as apple-fritters—a
-most wholesome and delicious dish, too
-rarely seen on English tables. I suspect that the prevalence
-of the greased frying-pan is the reason of its
-rarity. Cooked by this barbaric device, apples are
-scarcely eatable, but when thin slices are immersed in a
-bath of melted fat at a temperature of about 300° Fahr.,
-the water of their juice is suddenly boiled, and as this
-water is contained in a multitude of little bladderlike<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
-cells, they burst, and the whole structure is puffed out
-to a most delicate lightness, far more suitable for following
-solid meats than soddened fruit enveloped in
-heavy indigestible pudding-paste. Another advantage
-is that with proper apparatus (wire basket, kettle, and
-store of special fat) the fritters can be prepared and
-cooked in about one-tenth of the time demanded for the
-preparation and cookery of an apple pudding or pie. A
-few seconds of immersion in the fat-bath is sufficient.</p>
-
-<p>The fat used in frying requires occasional purification.
-I may illustrate the principle on which it should be conducted
-by describing the method adopted in the refining
-of mineral oils, such as petroleum or the paraffin distillates
-of bituminous shales. These are dark, tarry liquids
-of treacle-like consistency, with a strong and offensive
-odour. Nevertheless they are, at but little cost, converted
-into the ‘crystal oil’ used for lamps, and that beautiful
-pearly substance, the solid, translucent paraffin now so
-largely used in the manufacture of candles. Besides
-these, we obtain from the same dirty source an intermediate
-substance, the well-known ‘Vaseline,’ now becoming
-the basis of most of the ointments of the
-pharmacopœia. This purification is effected by agitation
-with sulphuric acid, which partly carbonises and partly
-combines with the impurities, and separates them in the
-form of a foul and acrid black mess, known technically
-as ‘acid tar.’ When I was engaged in the distillation
-of cannel and shale in Flintshire, this acid tar was a
-terrible bugbear. It found its way mysteriously into
-the Alyn river and poisoned the trout; but now, if I am
-correctly informed, the Scotch manufacturers have turned
-it to profitable account.</p>
-
-<p>Animal fat and vegetable oils are similarly purified.
-Very objectionable refuse fat of various kinds is thus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
-made into tallow, or material for the soap-maker, and
-grease for lubricating machinery. Unsavoury stories
-have been told about the manufacture of butter from
-Thames mud or the nodules of fat that are gathered
-therefrom by the mudlarks, but they are all false (see
-paper on ‘The Oleaginous Product of Thames Mud’ in
-‘Science in Short Chapters’). It may be possible to
-purify fatty matter from the foulest of admixtures, and
-do this so completely as to produce a soft, tasteless fat,
-<i>i.e.</i> a butter substitute, but such a curiosity would cost
-more than half a crown per pound, and therefore the
-market is safe, especially as the degree of purification
-required for soap-making and machinery grease costs
-but little and the demand for such fat is very great.</p>
-
-<p>These methods of purification are not available in
-the kitchen, as oil of vitriol is a vicious compound.
-During the siege of Paris some of the Academicians
-devoted themselves very earnestly to the subject of the
-purification of fat in order to produce what they termed
-‘siege butter’ from the refuse of slaughter-houses, &amp;c.,
-and edible salad oils from crude colza oil, from the rancid
-fish oils used by the leather-dresser, &amp;c. Those who are
-specially interested in the subject may find some curious
-papers in the ‘Comptes Rendus’ of that period. In vol.
-lxxi., page 36, M. Boillot describes his method of mixing
-kitchen-stuff and other refuse fat with lime-water, agitating
-the mixture when heated, and then neutralising with
-an acid. The product thus obtained is described as admirably
-adapted for culinary operations, and the method
-is applicable to the purpose here under consideration.</p>
-
-<p>Further on in the same volume is a ‘Note on Suets
-and Alimentary Fats’ by M. Dubrunfaut, who tells us
-that the most tainted of alimentary fats and rancid oils
-may be deprived of their bad odours by ‘appropriate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
-frying.’ His method is to raise the temperature of the
-fat to 140° to 150° Cent. (284° to 302° Fahr.) in a
-frying-pan; then cautiously sprinkle upon it small
-quantities of water. The steam carries off the volatile
-fatty acids which produce the rancidity in such as fish
-oils, and also removes the neutral offensive fatty matters
-that are decomposable by heat. In another paper by
-M. Fua this method is applied to the removal of cellular
-tissue of crude fats from slaughter-houses. It is really
-nothing more than the old farmhouse proceeding of
-‘rendering’ lard, by frying the membranous fat until
-the membranous matter is browned and aggregated into
-small nodules, which constitute the ‘scratchings’—a delicacy
-greatly relished by our British ploughboys at pig-killing
-time, but rather too rich in pork-fat to supply a
-suitable meal for people of sedentary vocations.</p>
-
-<p>The action of heat thus applied and long-continued
-is similar to that of the strong sulphuric acid. The impurities
-of the fat are organic matters more easily decomposable
-than the fat itself, or otherwise stated, they
-are dissociated into carbon and water at about 300°
-Fahr., which is a lower temperature than that required
-for the dissociation of the pure oil or fat. By maintaining
-this temperature, these compounds become first
-caramelised, then carbonised nearly to blackness, when
-all their powers of offensiveness vanish.</p>
-
-<p>In the more violent factory process of purification
-by sulphuric acid the similar action which occurs is due
-to the powerful affinity of this acid for water: this may
-be strikingly shown by adding to thick syrup or pounded
-sugar about its own bulk of oil of vitriol, when a marvellous
-commotion occurs, and a magnified black cinder
-is produced by the separation of the water from the
-sugar.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The following simple practical formula may be reduced
-from these data. When a considerable quantity
-of much-used frying-fat is accumulated, heat it to about
-300° Fahr., as indicated by the crackling of water
-when sprinkled on it, or, better still, by a properly-constructed
-thermometer. Then pour the melted fat
-on hot water. This must be done carefully, as a large
-quantity of fat at 300° poured upon a small quantity
-of boiling water will illustrate the fact that water
-when suddenly heated is an explosive compound. The
-quantity of water should exceed that of the fat, and the
-pouring be done gradually. Then agitate the fat and
-water together, and, if the operator is sufficiently skilful
-and intelligent, the purification may be carried further
-by carefully boiling the water under the fat and allowing
-its steam to pass through; but this is a little dangerous,
-on account of the possibility of what the practical
-chemist calls ‘bumping,’ or the sudden formation of a
-big bubble of steam that would kick a good deal of the
-superabundant fat into the fire.</p>
-
-<p>Whether this supplementary boiling is carried out or
-not, the fat and the water should be left together to cool
-gradually, when a dark layer of carbonised impurities
-will be found resting on the surface of the water, and
-adhering to the bottom of the cake of fat. This may be
-peeled off and put into the waste grease-pot to be further
-refined with the next operation. Ultimately the worst
-of it will sink to the bottom of the water.</p>
-
-<p>A careful cook may keep the supply of frying fat
-continually good, by simply pouring it into a basin (a
-deep pudding-basin with small area at bottom is best),
-letting it solidify there, and then paring away the bottom
-sediment. Even this dirty-looking sediment need not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
-be altogether wasted. When a considerable quantity
-has accumulated it may be purified by the method of
-Dubrunfaut and Fua above described.</p>
-
-<p>As ordinary thermometers register but little above
-212°, and laboratory thermometers are too delicately
-constructed for kitchen use, I requested Messrs. Davis
-&amp; Co. to construct a special thermometer for testing the
-temperature of heated fat. They have accordingly
-made an instrument that answers the purpose very well.
-It is like a laboratory thermometer, <i>i.e.</i> a glass tube with
-long bulb and the degrees engraved on the glass itself,
-but the bulb is turned at right angles to the tube, so that
-it is horizontal when the tube stands perpendicular, and
-lies under a stand just above the level of the bottom of
-the kettle. The instrument thus stands alone firmly, with
-its bulb fully immersed even in a very shallow bath of fat.</p>
-
-<p>Gouffé says: ‘Fat is the best for frying; the light-coloured
-dripping of roast meat, and the fat taken off
-broth are to be preferred. These failing, beef suet,
-chopped fine and melted down on a slow fire, without
-browning, will do very well; when the bottom of the stewpan
-can be seen through the suet, it is sufficiently melted.’
-He is no advocate for lard, ‘as it always leaves an unpleasant
-coating of fat on whatever is fried in it.’ Olive oil of
-the best quality is almost absolutely tasteless, and having
-as high a boiling point as animal fats it is the best of
-all frying media. In this country there is a prejudice
-against the use of such oil. I have noticed at some of
-those humble but most useful establishments where poor
-people are supplied with penny or twopenny portions of
-well-cooked, good fish, that in the front is an inscription
-stating ‘only the best beef-dripping is used in this establishment.’
-This means a repudiation of oil.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>On my first visit to Arctic Norway I arrived before
-the garnering and exportation of the spring cod harvest
-was completed. The packet stopped at a score or so of
-stations on the Lofodens and the mainland. Foggy
-weather was no impediment, as an experienced pilot free
-from catarrh could steer direct to the harbour by ‘following
-his nose.’ Huge cauldrons stood by the shore in
-which were stewing the last batches of the livers of codfish
-caught a month before and exposed in the meantime
-to the continuous Arctic sunshine. Their condition
-must be imagined, as I abstain from description of
-details. The business then proceeding was the extraction
-of the oil from these livers. It is, of course, ‘cod-liver
-oil,’ but is known commercially as ‘fish oil,’ or ‘cod
-oil.’ That which is sold by our druggists as cod-liver
-oil is described in Norway as ‘medicine oil,’ and though
-prepared from the same raw material, is extracted in a
-different manner. Only fresh livers are used for this,
-and the best quality, the ‘cold-drawn’ oil, is obtained by
-pressing the livers without stewing. Those who are unfortunately
-familiar with this carefully-prepared, highly-refined
-product, know that the fishy flavour clings to it
-so pertinaciously that all attempts to completely remove
-it without decomposing the oil have failed. This being
-the case, it is easily understood that the fish oil stewed
-so crudely out of the putrid or semi-putrid livers must
-be nauseous indeed. It is nevertheless used by some of
-the fish-fryers, and refuse ‘Gallipoli’ (olive oil of the
-worst quality) is sold for this purpose. The oil obtained
-in the course of salting sardines, herrings, &amp;c., is also
-used.</p>
-
-<p>Such being the case, it is not surprising that the use
-of oil for frying should, like the oil itself, be in bad
-odour.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>I dwell upon this because we are probably on what,
-if a fine writer, I should call the ‘eve of a great revolution’
-in respect to frying media.</p>
-
-<p>Two new materials, pure, tasteless, and so cheap as
-to be capable of pushing pig-fat (lard) out of the market,
-have recently been introduced. These are cotton-seed
-oil and poppy-seed oil. The first has been for some
-time in the market offered for sale under various fictitious
-names, which I will not reveal, as I refuse to become a
-medium for the advertisement of anything—however good
-in itself—that is sold under false pretences.</p>
-
-<p>As every bale of cotton yields half a ton of seed, and
-every ton of seed may be made to yield 28 lbs. to 32 lbs.
-of crude oil, the available quantity is very great. At
-present only a small quantity is made, the surplus seed
-being used as manure. Its fertilising value would not
-be diminished by removing the oil, which is only a
-hydro-carbon, <i>i.e.</i> material supplied by air and water.
-All the fertilising constituents of the seed are left behind
-in the oil-cake from which the oil has been pressed.</p>
-
-<p>Hitherto cotton-seed oil has fallen among thieves.
-It is used as an adulterant of olive oil; sardines and pilchards
-are packed in it. The sardine trade has declined
-lately, some say from deficient supplies of the fish. I
-suspect that there has been a decline in the demand due
-to the substitution of this oil for that of the olive. Many
-people who formerly enjoyed sardines no longer care for
-them, and they do not know why. The substitution of
-cotton-seed oil explains this in most cases. It is not
-rancid, has no decided flavour, but still is unpleasant
-when eaten raw, as with salads or sardines. It has a
-flat, cold character, and an after taste that is faintly
-suggestive of castor oil; but faint as it is, it interferes
-with the demand for a purely luxurious article of food.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
-This delicate defect is quite inappreciable in the results
-of its use as a frying medium. The very best lard or
-ordinary kitchen butter, eaten cold, has more of objectionable
-flavour than refined cotton-seed oil.</p>
-
-<p>I have not tasted poppy-seed oil, but am told that it
-is similar to that from the cotton-seed. As regards the
-quantities available, some idea may be formed by plucking
-a ripe head from a garden poppy and shaking out
-the little round seeds through the windows on the top.
-Those who have not tried this will be astonished at
-the numbers produced by each flower. As poppies are
-largely cultivated for the production of opium, and the
-yield of the drug itself by each plant is very small, the
-supplies of oil may be considerable; 571,542 cwt. of seeds
-were exported from India last year, of which 346,031
-cwt. went to France.</p>
-
-<p>Palm oil, though at present practically unknown in
-the kitchen, may easily become an esteemed material for
-the frying-kettle. At present, the familiar uses of palm
-oil in candle-making and for railway grease will cause
-my suggestion to shock the nerves of many delicate
-people, but these should remember that before palm oil
-was imported at all, the material from which candles
-and soap were made, and by which cart wheels and
-heavy machinery were greased, was tallow—<i>i.e.</i> the fat
-of mutton and beef. The reason why our grandmothers
-did not use candles for frying when short of dripping or
-suet was that the mutton fat constituting the candle was
-impure, so are the yellow candles and yellow grease in the
-axle-boxes of the railway carriages. This vegetable fat
-is quite as inoffensive in itself, quite as wholesome, and—sentimentally
-regarded—less objectionable, than the
-fat obtained from the carcass of a slaughtered animal.</p>
-
-<p>When common sense and true sentiment supplant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
-mere unreasoning prejudice, vegetable oils and vegetable
-fats will largely supplant those of animal origin
-in every element of our dietary. We are but just
-beginning to understand them. Chevreul, who was
-the first to teach us the chemistry of fats, is still
-living, and we are only learning how to make butter (not
-‘inferior Dorset,’ but ‘choice Normandy’) without the
-aid of dairy produce. There is, therefore, good reason for
-anticipating that the inexhaustible supplies of oil obtainable
-from the vegetable world—especially from tropical
-vegetation—will ere long be freely available for kitchen
-uses, and the now popular product of the Chicago hog
-factories will be altogether banished therefrom, and used
-only for greasing cart-wheels and other machinery.</p>
-
-<p>As a practical conclusion of this part of my subject,
-I will quote from the ‘Oil Trade Review’ of this month,
-December 1884, the current wholesale prices of some of
-the oils possibly available for frying purposes: olive oil,
-from 43<i>l.</i> to 90<i>l.</i> per tun of 252 gallons; cod oil, 36<i>l.</i> per
-tun; sardine or train (<i>i.e.</i> the oil that drains from pilchards,
-herrings, sardines, &amp;c., when salted), 27<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> to
-28<i>l.</i> per tun; cocoanut, from 35<i>l.</i> to 38<i>l.</i> per ton of 20
-cwt. (This, in the case of oil, is nearly the same as the
-measured tun.) Palm, from 38<i>l.</i> to 40<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> per ton;
-palm-nut or copra, 31<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> per ton; refined cotton-seed,
-30<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> to 31<i>l.</i> per ton; lard, 53<i>l.</i> to 55<i>l.</i> per ton.
-The above are the extreme ranges of each class. I have
-not copied the technical names and prices of the intermediate
-varieties. One penny per lb. is = 9<i>l.</i> 6<i>s.</i> 8<i>d.</i> per
-ton, or, in round numbers, 1<i>l.</i> per ton may be reckoned
-as <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>9</sub></small>th of a penny per lb. Thus the present price of
-best refined cotton-seed oil is 3½<i>d.</i> per lb.; of cocoanut
-oil, 3¾<i>d.;</i> palm oil, from 3½<i>d.</i> to 4½<i>d.</i>, while lard costs
-6<i>d.</i> per lb. wholesale.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>I should add, in reference to the seed-oils, that there
-is a possible objection to their use as frying media.
-Oils extracted from seeds contain more or less of <i>linoleine</i>
-(so named from its abundance in linseed oil), which,
-when exposed to the air, combines with oxygen, swells
-and dries. If the oil from cotton-seed or poppy-seed contains
-too much of this, it will thicken inconveniently when
-kept for a length of time exposed to the air. Palm oil
-is practically free from it, but I am doubtful respecting
-palm-nut oil, as most of the nut oils are ‘driers.’</p>
-
-<p>Extravagant cooks delude confiding mistresses by demanding
-butter for ordinary frying. A veneration for
-costliness is one of the vulgar vices, especially dominant
-below stairs. In many cases a worse motive induces the
-denunciation of the dripping and skimmed fat recommended
-by Gouffé as above, and the substitution of lard
-or butter for it. This is the practice of selling the dripping
-as ‘kitchen stuff.’</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a><br />
-
-<small>STEWING.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">Some</span> of my readers may think that I ought to have
-treated this in connection with the boiling of meat, as
-boiling and stewing are commonly regarded as mere
-modifications of the same process. According to my
-mode of regarding the subject, <i>i.e.</i> with reference to the
-object to be attained, they are opposite processes.</p>
-
-<p>The object in the so-called ‘boiling’ of, say, a leg of
-mutton, is to raise the temperature of the meat throughout
-just up to the cooking temperature in such a manner
-that it shall as nearly as possible retain all its juices;
-the hot water merely operating as a vehicle or medium
-for conveying the heat.</p>
-
-<p>In stewing nearly all this is reversed. The juices
-are to be extracted more or less completely, and the
-water is required to act as a solvent as well as a heat-conveyor.
-Instead of the meat itself surrounding and
-enveloping the juices as it should when boiled, roasted,
-grilled, or fried, we demand in a stew that the juices
-shall surround or envelop the meat. In some cases the
-separation of the juices is the sole object, as in the preparation
-of certain soups and gravies, of which ‘beef-tea’
-may be taken as a typical example. <i>Extractum
-carnis</i>, or Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat’ is beef-tea (or
-mutton-tea) concentrated by evaporation.</p>
-
-<p>The juices of lean meat may be extracted very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
-completely without cooking the meat at all, merely
-by mincing it and then placing it in cold water.
-<i>Maceration</i> is the proper name for this treatment.
-The philosophy of this is interesting, and so little
-understood in the kitchen that I must explain its rudiments.</p>
-
-<p>If two liquids capable of mixing together, but of
-different densities, be placed in the same vessel, the
-denser at the bottom, they will mix together in defiance
-of gravitation, the heavy liquid rising and spreading
-itself throughout the lighter, and the lighter descending
-and diffusing itself through the heavier.</p>
-
-<p>Thus, concentrated sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol)
-which has nearly double the density of water, may be
-placed under water by pouring water in a tall glass jar,
-and then carefully pouring the acid down a funnel with
-a long tube, the bottom end of which touches the
-bottom of the jar. At first the heavy liquid pushes up
-the lighter, and its upper surface may be distinctly seen
-with that of the lighter resting upon it. This is better
-shown if the water be coloured by a blue tincture of
-litmus, which is reddened by the acid. A red stratum
-indicates the boundaries of the two liquids. Gradually
-the reddening proceeds upwards and downwards, the
-whole of the water changes from blue to red, and the
-acid becomes tinged.</p>
-
-<p>Graham worked for many years upon the determination
-of the laws of this diffusion, and the rates at which
-different liquids diffused into each other. His method
-was to fill small jars of uniform size and shape (about
-4 oz. capacity) with the saline or other dense solution,
-place upon the ground mouth of the jar a plate-glass
-cover, then immerse it, when filled, in a cylindrical glass
-vessel containing about 20 oz. of distilled water. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
-cover being very carefully removed, diffusion was
-allowed to proceed for a given time, and then by
-analysis the amount of transfer into the distilled water
-was determined.</p>
-
-<p>I must resist the temptation to expound the very interesting
-results of these researches, merely stating that
-they prove this diffusion to be no mere accidental mixing,
-but an action that proceeds with a regularity reducible
-to simple mathematical laws. One curious fact I may
-mention—viz. that on comparing the solutions of a
-number of different salts, those which crystallise in the
-same forms have similar rates of diffusion. The law
-that bears the most directly upon cookery is that ‘the
-quantity of any substance diffused from a solution of
-uniform strength increases as the temperature rises.’
-The application of this will be seen presently.</p>
-
-<p>It may be supposed that if the jar used in Graham’s
-diffusion experiments were tied over with a mechanically
-air-tight and water-tight membrane, the brine or other
-saline solution thus confined in the jar could not diffuse
-itself into the pure water above and around it; people
-who are satisfied with anything that ‘stands to reason’
-would be quite sure that a bladder which resists the
-passage of water, even when the water is pressed up to
-the bursting-point, cannot be permeable to a most gentle
-and spontaneous flow of the same water. The true
-philosopher, however, never trusts to any reasoning, not
-even mathematical demonstration, until its conclusions
-are verified by observations and experiment. In this
-case all rational preconceptions or mathematical calculations
-based upon the amount of attractive force exerted
-between the particles of the different liquids are outraged
-by the facts.</p>
-
-<p>If a stout, well-tied bladder that would burst rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
-than allow a drop of water to be squeezed mechanically
-through it be partially filled with a solution of common
-washing soda, and then immersed in distilled water, the
-soda will make its way out of the bladder by passing
-through its walls, and the pure water will go in at the
-same time; for if, after some time is allowed, the outer
-water be tested by dipping into it a strip of red litmus
-paper, it will be turned blue, showing the presence of the
-alkali therein, and if the contents of the bladder be
-weighed or measured, they will be found to have increased
-by the inflow of fresh water. This inflow is
-called <i>endosmosis</i>, and the outflow of the solution is
-called <i>exosmosis</i>. If an indiarubber bottle be filled
-with water and immersed in alcohol or ether, the endosmosis
-of the spirit will be so powerfully exerted as to
-distend the bottle considerably. If the bottle be filled
-with alcohol or ether, and surrounded by water, it will
-nearly empty itself.</p>
-
-<p>The force exerted by this action is displayed by the
-rising of the sap from the rootlets of a forest giant to the
-cells of its topmost leaves. Not only plants, but animals
-also, are complex osmotic machines. There is scarcely
-any vital function—if any at all—in which this osmosis
-does not play an important part. I have no doubt that
-the mental effort I am at this moment exerting is largely
-dependent upon the endosmosis and exosmosis that is
-proceeding through the delicate membranes of some of
-the many miles of blood-vessels that ramify throughout
-the grey matter of my brain.</p>
-
-<p>But I must wander no farther beyond the kitchen,
-having already said enough to indicate that <i>diosmosis</i>
-(which is the general term used for expressing the actions
-of endosmosis and exosmosis as they occur simultaneously)
-does the work of extracting the permanent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
-juices of meat when it is immersed in either hot or cold
-water.</p>
-
-<p>I say <i>permanent</i> juices with intent, in order to exclude
-the albumen, which being coagulable at the lowest cooking
-temperature is not permanent. It is one of that
-class of bodies to which Graham gave the name of
-colloids (glue-like), such as starch, dextrin, gum, &amp;c.,
-to distinguish them from another class, the crystalloids,
-or bodies that crystallise on solidification. The
-latter diffuse and pass through membranes by diosmosis
-readily, the colloids very sluggishly. Thus a
-solution of Epsom salts diffuses seven times as rapidly
-as albumen, and fourteen times as rapidly as caramel.</p>
-
-<p>The difference is strikingly illustrated by the different
-diffusibility of a solution of ordinary crystalline sugar
-and that of barley-sugar and caramel, the latter being
-amorphous or formless colloids that dry into a gummy
-mass when their solutions are evaporated, instead of
-forming crystals as the original sugar did.</p>
-
-<p>Some of the juices of meat, as already explained,
-exist between its fibres, others are within those fibres or
-cells, enveloped in the sheath or cell membrane. It is
-evident that the loose or free juices will be extracted by
-simple diffusion, those enveloped in membranes by exosmosis
-through the membrane. The result must be
-the same in both cases; the meat will be permeated by
-the water, and the surrounding water will be permeated
-by the juices that originally existed within the meat.
-As the rate of diffusion—other conditions being equal—is
-proportionate to the extent of the surfaces of the
-diverse liquids that are exposed to each other, and as
-the rate of diosmosis is similarly proportioned to the
-exposure of membrane, it is evident that the cutting-up
-of the meat will assist the extraction of its juices by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
-creation of fresh surfaces; hence the well-known advantage
-of mincing in the making of beef-tea.</p>
-
-<p>It is interesting to observe the condition of lean
-meat that has thus been minced and exposed for a few
-hours to these actions by immersion in cold water. On
-removing and straining such minced meat it will be
-found to have lost its colour, and if it is now cooked it
-is insipid, and even nauseous if eaten in any quantity.
-It has been given to dogs and cats and pigs; these,
-after eating a little, refuse to take more, and when supplied
-with this juiceless meat alone, they languish, become
-emaciated, and die of starvation if the experiment
-is continued. Experiments of this kind contributed to
-the fallacious conclusions of the French Academicians.
-Although the meat from which the juices are thus completely
-extracted is quite worthless <i>alone</i>, and meat from
-which they are partially extracted is nearly worthless
-<i>alone</i>, either of them becomes valuable when eaten with
-the juices. The stewed beef of the Frenchman would
-deserve the contempt bestowed upon it by the prejudiced
-Englishman if it were eaten as the Englishman
-eats his roast beef; but when preceded by a <i>potage</i> containing
-the juices of the beef it is quite as nutritious as
-if roasted, and more easily digested.</p>
-
-<p>Graham found that increase of temperature increases
-the rate of diffusion of liquids, and in accordance with
-this the extraction of the juices of meat is effected more
-rapidly by warm than by cold water; but there is a limit
-to this advantage, as will be easily understood from
-what has already been explained in <a href="#CHAPTER_III">Chapter III.</a> concerning
-the coagulation of albumen, which at the temperature
-of 134° Fahr. begins to show signs of losing its
-fluidity; at 160° becomes a semi-opaque jelly; at the
-boiling point of water is a rather tough solid; and if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
-kept at this temperature, shrinks, and becomes harder
-and harder, tougher and tougher, till it attains a consistence
-comparable to that of horn tempered with gutta-percha.</p>
-
-<p>I have spoken of beef-tea, or <i>Extractum carnis</i>
-(Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat’), as an extreme case of extracting
-the juices of meat, and must now explain the
-difference between this and the juices of an ordinary
-stew. Supposing the juices of the meat to be extracted
-by maceration in cold water, and the broth thus obtained
-to be heated in order to alter its raw flavour, a scum will
-be seen to rise upon the surface; this is carefully removed
-in the manufacture of Liebig’s ‘Extract,’ or in the
-preparation of beef-tea for an invalid, but in thus skimming
-we remove a highly-nutritious constituent—viz.
-the albumen, which has coagulated during the heating.
-The pure beef-tea, or <i>Extractum carnis</i>, contains only
-the kreatine, kreatinine, the soluble phosphates, the
-lactic acid, and other non-coagulable saline constituents,
-that are rather stimulating than nutritious, and which,
-properly speaking, are not digested at all—<i>i.e.</i> they are
-not converted into chyme in the stomach, do not pass
-through the pylorus into the duodenum, &amp;c., but, instead
-of this, their dilute solution passes, like the water we
-drink, directly into the blood by endosmosis through the
-delicate membrane of that marvellous network of microscopic
-blood-vessels which is spread over the surface of
-every one of the myriads of little upstanding filaments
-which, by their aggregation, constitute the villous or
-velvet coat of the stomach. In some states of prostration,
-where the blood is insufficiently supplied with
-these juices, this endosmosis is like pouring new life into
-the body, but it is not what is required for the normal
-sustenance of the healthy body.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>For ordinary food, all the nutritious constituents
-should be retained, either in the meat itself or in its
-liquid surrounding. Regarding it theoretically, I should
-demand the retention of the albumen in the meat, and
-insist upon its remaining there in the condition of tender
-semi-solidity, corresponding to the white of an egg when
-perfectly cooked, as described in <a href="#Page_22">page 22</a>. Also that
-the gelatin and fibrin be softened by sufficient digestion
-in hot water, and that the saline juices (those constituting
-beef-tea) be <i>partially</i> extracted. I say ‘partially,’ because
-their complete extraction, as in the case of the
-macerated minced-meat, would too completely rob the
-meat of its sapidity. How, then, may these theoretical
-desiderata be attained?</p>
-
-<p>It is evident from the principles already expounded
-that cold extraction takes out the albumen, therefore
-this must be avoided; also that boiling water will harden
-the albumen to leathery consistence. This may be
-shown experimentally by subjecting an ordinary beefsteak
-to the action of boiling water for about half an
-hour. It will come out in the abominable condition too
-often obtained by English cooks when they make an
-attempt at stewing—an unknown art to the majority of
-them. Such an ill-used morsel defies the efforts of ordinary
-human jaws, and is curiously curled and distorted.
-This toughening and curling is a result of the coagulation,
-hardening, and shrinkage of the albumen as already
-described.</p>
-
-<p>It is evident, therefore, that neither cold water nor
-boiling water should be used in stewing, but water at the
-temperature at which albumen just begins to coagulate—<i>i.e.</i>
-about 134°, or between this and 160° as the extreme.
-My definition of stewing demands a qualification
-as regards the albumen. Although this is one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
-the juices of the meat when cold, it should not be extracted
-in ordinary stewing, as it is in the maceration
-for beef-tea, and thereby appear as a scum to be rejected.
-It should be barely coagulated, and thus retained in the
-meat in as tender a condition as possible. Being a colloid
-(see <i>ante</i>, <a href="#Page_115">page 115</a>) its liability to diffusion is small.
-But here we encounter a serious difficulty. How is the
-unscientific cook to determine and maintain this temperature?
-If you tell her that the water must not boil,
-she shifts her stewpan to the side of the fire, where it
-shall only simmer, and she firmly believes that such
-simmering water has a lower temperature than water
-that is boiling violently over the fire. ‘It stands to
-reason’ that it must be so, and if the experimental
-philosopher appeals to fact and the evidence of the
-thermometer, he is a ‘theorist.’</p>
-
-<p>The French cook escapes this simmering delusion by
-her common use of the <i>bain-marie</i> or ‘water-bath,’ as
-we call it in the laboratory, where it is also largely used
-for ‘digesting’ at temperatures below 212°. This is
-simply a vessel immersed in an outer vessel of water.
-The water in the outer vessel may boil, but that in the
-inner vessel cannot, as its evaporation keeps it below
-the temperature of the water from which its heat is
-derived. A carpenter’s glue-pot is a very good and
-compact form of water-bath. Some ironmongers keep
-in stock a form of water-bath which they call a ‘milk-scalder.’
-This resembles the glue-pot, but has an inner
-vessel of earthenware which is, of course, a great improvement
-upon the carpenter’s device, as it may be
-so easily cleaned. Captain Warren’s, and other similar
-‘cooking-pots,’ may be used as water-baths by removing
-the cover of the inner vessel.</p>
-
-<p>One of the incidental advantages of the <i>bain-marie</i> is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
-that the stewing may be performed in earthenware or
-even glass vessels, seeing that they are not directly exposed
-to the fire. Other forms of such double vessels
-are obtainable at the best ironmongers. I have lately
-seen a very neat apparatus of this kind, called ‘Dolby’s
-Extractor,’ made by Messrs. Griffiths &amp; Browett of
-Birmingham. This consists of an earthenware vessel
-that rests on a ledge, and thus hangs in an outer tin-plate
-vessel; but, instead of water, there is an air space
-surrounding the earthenware pot. A top screws over
-this, and the whole stands in an ordinary saucepan of
-water. The heat is thus very slowly and steadily communicated
-through an air-bath, and it makes excellent
-beef-tea.</p>
-
-<p>At temperatures <i>below the boiling point</i> evaporation
-proceeds superficially, and the rate of evaporation at a
-given temperature is proportionate to the surface exposed,
-irrespective of the total quantity of water; therefore,
-the shallower the inner vessel of the <i>bain-marie</i>,
-and the greater its upper outspread, the lower will be
-the temperature of its liquid contents when its sides and
-bottom are heated by boiling water. The water in a
-basin-shaped inner vessel will have a lower temperature
-than that in a vessel of similar depth, with upright sides,
-and exposing an equal water surface. A good water-bath
-for stewing may be extemporised by using a common
-pudding-basin (I mean one with projecting rim,
-as used for tying down the pudding-cloth), and selecting
-a saucepan just big enough for this to drop into, and
-rest upon its rim. Put the meat, &amp;c., to be stewed into
-the basin, pour hot water over them, and hot water into
-the saucepan, so that the basin shall be in a water-bath;
-then let this outer water simmer—very gently, so as not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
-to jump the basin with its steam. Stew thus for about
-double the time usually prescribed in English cookery-books,
-and compare the result with similar materials
-stewed in boiling or ‘simmering’ water.</p>
-
-<p>I have already (page 91) referred to the frying that,
-in most cases, should precede stewing. It not only
-supplies the caramel browning there described, but moderates
-the extraction of the juices which, as I have said
-above, is desirable on the part of the meat itself when
-gravy is not the primary object.</p>
-
-<p>Some further explanation is here necessary, as it is
-quite possible to obtain what commonly passes for tenderness
-by a very flagrant violation of the principles
-above expounded. This is done on a large scale and in
-extreme degree in the preparation of ordinary Australian
-tinned meat. A number of tins are filled with the meat,
-and soldered down close, all but a small pin-hole. They
-are then placed in a bath charged with a saline substance,
-such as chloride of zinc, which has a higher
-boiling point than water. This is heated up to its
-boiling point, and consequently the water which is in
-the tins with the meat boils vigorously, and a jet of
-steam mixed with air blows from the pin-hole. When
-all the air is expelled, and the jet is of pure steam only
-(a difference detected at once by the trained expert),
-the tin is removed, and a little melted solder skilfully
-dropped on the hole to seal the tin hermetically. An
-examination of one of these tins will show this final
-soldering with, in some, a flap below to prevent any
-solder from falling in amongst the meat. The object of
-this is to exclude all air, for if only a very small quantity
-remains, oxidation and putrefaction speedily ensues,
-as shown by a bulging of the tins instead of the partial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
-collapse that should occur when the steam condenses,
-the display of which collapse is an indication of the
-good quality of the contents.</p>
-
-<p>By ‘good quality’ I mean good of its kind; but, as
-everybody knows who has tried beef and mutton thus
-prepared, it is not satisfactory. The preservation from
-putrefactive decomposition is perfectly successful, and
-all the original constituents of the meat are there. It
-is <i>apparently</i> tender, but <i>practically</i> tough—<i>i.e.</i> it falls to
-pieces at a mere touch of the knife, but these fragments
-offer to the teeth a peculiar resistance to proper mastication.
-I may describe their condition as one of pertinacious
-fibrosity. The fibres separate, but they are
-stubborn fibres still.</p>
-
-<p>This is a very serious matter, for, were it otherwise,
-the great problem of supplying our dense population
-with an abundance of cheap animal food would have
-been solved about twenty years ago. As it is, the plain
-tinned-meat enterprise has not developed to any important
-extent beyond affording a variation with salt junk
-on board ship.</p>
-
-<p>What is the <i>rationale</i> of this defect? Beyond the
-general statement that the meat is ‘overdone,’ I have
-met with no attempt at explanation, but am not, therefore,
-disposed to give up the riddle without attempting
-a solution.</p>
-
-<p>Reverting to what I have already said concerning the
-action of heat on the constituents of flesh, it is evident
-that in the first place the long exposure to the boiling
-point must harden the albumen. <i>Syntonin</i>, or <i>muscle-fibrin</i>,
-the material of the ultimate contractile fibres of
-the muscle, is coagulated by boiling water, and further
-hardened by continuous boiling, in the same manner as
-albumen. Thus the muscle-fibres themselves, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
-lubricating liquor<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> in which they are imbedded, must
-be simultaneously toughened by the method above described,
-and this explains the pertinacious fibrosity of
-the result.</p>
-
-<p>But how is the apparent tenderness, the facile separation
-of the fibres of the same meat produced? A little
-further examination of the anatomy and chemistry of
-muscle will, I think, explain this quite satisfactorily.
-The ultimate fibres of the muscles are enveloped in a
-very delicate membrane; a bundle of these is again enveloped
-in a somewhat stronger membrane (<i>areolar tissue</i>);
-and a number of these bundles of <i>fasciculi</i> are further
-enveloped in a proportionally stronger sheath of similar
-membrane. All these binding membranes are mainly
-composed of gelatin, or the substance which produces
-gelatin when boiled. The boiling that is necessary to
-drive out all the air from the tins is sufficient to dissolve
-this, and effect that easy separability of the muscular
-fibres, or fasciculi of fibres, that gives to such overcooked
-meat its fictitious tenderness.</p>
-
-<p>I am, however, doubtful whether <i>all</i> the gelatin of
-these membranes is thus dissolved. The jelly existing
-in the tins shows that some is dissolved and hydrated,
-if my theory of the cookery is right; but there does not
-appear to be as much of this jelly as would be formed
-by the stewing of a corresponding quantity of meat at
-a lower temperature. Some of the membranous gelatin
-is, I suspect, dehydrated when the highest temperature
-of the process is attained—<i>i.e.</i> when the concentration
-of the juices raises the boiling point of their solution<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
-considerably above that of pure water. This, if I am
-right, would check further solution of the membrane,
-would hydrate and harden the remainder, and thus
-contribute to the hardening of the fibre above described.</p>
-
-<p>I have entered into these anatomical and chemical
-details because it is only by understanding them that
-the difference between true tenderness and spurious
-tenderness of stewed meat can be soundly understood,
-especially in this country, where stewed meats are
-despised because scientific stewing is practically and
-generally an unknown art. Ask an English cook the
-difference between boiled beef or mutton and stewed
-beef or mutton, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred
-her reply will be to the effect that stewed meat is
-that which has been boiled or simmered for a longer
-time than the boiled meat.</p>
-
-<p>She proceeds, in accordance with this definition, when
-making an Irish stew or similar dish, by ‘simmering’ at
-212° until, by the coagulation and hardening of the
-albumen and syntonin, a leathery mass is obtained;
-then she continues the simmering until the gelatin
-of the areolar tissue is partially dissolved, and the
-toughened fibres separate or become readily separable.
-Having achieved this disintegration, she supposes the
-meat to be tender, the fact being that the fibres individually
-are tougher than they were at the leathery
-stage. The mischief is not limited to the destruction
-of the flavour of the meat, but includes the destruction
-of the nutritive value of its solid portion by rendering it
-all indigestible, with the exception of the gelatin, which
-is dissolved in the gravy.</p>
-
-<p>This exception should be duly noted, inasmuch as it
-is the one redeeming feature of such proceeding that
-renders it fairly well adapted for the cookery of such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
-meat as cow-heels, sheeps’-trotters, calves’-heads, shins
-of beef, knuckles of veal, and other viands which consist
-mainly of membranous, tendinous, or integumentary
-matter composed of gelatin. To treat the prime parts
-of good beef or mutton in this manner is to perpetrate a
-domestic atrocity.</p>
-
-<p>I may here mention an experiment that I have made
-lately. I killed a superannuated hen—more than six
-years old, but otherwise in very good condition. Cooked
-in the ordinary way she would have been uneatably
-tough. Instead of being thus cooked, she was gently
-stewed about four hours. I cannot guarantee to the
-maintenance of the theoretical temperature, having suspicion
-of <i>some</i> simmering. After this she was left in
-the water until it cooled, and on the following day was
-roasted in the usual manner—<i>i.e.</i> in a roasting oven.
-The result was excellent; as tender as a full-grown
-chicken roasted in the ordinary way, and of quite equal
-flavour, in spite of the very good broth obtained by the
-preliminary stewing. This surprised me. I anticipated
-the softening of the tendons and ligaments, but supposed
-that the extraction of the juices would have spoiled the
-flavour. It must have diluted it, and that so much
-remained was probably due to the fact that an old fowl
-is more fully flavoured than a young chicken. The
-usual farmhouse method of cooking old hens is to stew
-them simply, the rule in the Midlands being one hour in
-the pot for every year of age. The feature of the above
-experiment was the supplementary roasting. As the
-laying season comes to an end, old hens become a drug
-in the market; and those among my readers who have
-not a hen-roost of their own will much oblige their poulterers
-by ordering a hen that is warranted to be four
-years old or upwards. If he deals fairly he will supply a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
-specimen upon which they may repeat my experiment
-very cheaply. It offers the double economy of utilising
-a nearly waste product, and obtaining chicken-broth and
-roast fowl simultaneously.</p>
-
-<p>Another experiment on the cooking of old hens was
-recently made by a neighbour at my suggestion, and
-proved very successful. The bird was cut up and gently
-stewed in fat like the small joints of my experiments
-described in <a href="#Page_57">p. 57</a>.</p>
-
-<p>I have not yet repeated this experiment, but when I
-do shall use bacon liquor (the surplus fat from grilled
-bacon) for the bath, and hope thereby to obtain an
-approach to the effect of ‘larding,’ as practised in
-luxurious cookery.</p>
-
-<p>One of the great advantages of stewing is that it
-affords a means of obtaining a savoury and very wholesome
-dish at a minimum of cost. A small piece of meat
-may be stewed with a large quantity of vegetables, the
-juice of the meat savouring the whole. Besides this, it
-costs far less fuel than roasting.</p>
-
-<p>The wife of the French or Swiss landed proprietor—<i>i.e.</i>
-a working peasant—cooks the family dinner with less
-than a tenth of the expenditure of fuel used in England
-for the preparation of an inferior meal. A little charcoal
-under her <i>bain-marie</i> does it all. The economy of time
-corresponds to the economy of fuel, for the mixture of
-viands required for the stew once put into the pot is
-left to itself until dinner-time, or at most an occasional
-stirring of fresh charcoal into the embers is all that is
-demanded.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a><br />
-
-<small>CHEESE.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">I now</span> come to a very important constituent of animal
-food, although it is not contained in beef, mutton, pork,
-poultry, game, fish, or any other organised animal substance,
-unless in egg yolk, as Lehmann states (see page
-23). It is not even proved satisfactorily to exist in the
-blood, although it is somehow obtained from the blood
-by special glands at certain periods. I refer to <i>casein</i>, the
-substantial basis of cheese, which, as everybody knows,
-is the consolidated curd of milk.</p>
-
-<p>It is evident at once that casein must exist in two
-forms, the soluble and insoluble, so far as the common
-solvent, water, is concerned. It exists in the soluble
-form, and completely dissolved in milk, and insoluble in
-cheese. When precipitated in its insoluble or coagulated
-form as the curd of new milk it carries with it the fatty
-matter or cream, and therefore, in order to study its properties
-in a state of purity, we must obtain it otherwise.
-This may be done by allowing the fat globules of the
-milk to float to the surface, and then removing them by
-separating the cream as by the ordinary dairy method.
-We thus obtain in the skimmed milk a solution of casein,
-but there still remains some of the fat. This may be
-removed by evaporating the solution down to solidity,
-and then dissolving out the fat by means of ether, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
-leaves the soluble casein behind. The adhering ether
-being evaporated, we have a fairly pure specimen of
-casein in its original or soluble form.</p>
-
-<p>This, when dry, is an amber-coloured translucent
-substance, devoid of odour, and insipid. The insipidity
-and absence of odour of the pure and separated casein are
-noteworthy, as showing that the condition in which it
-exists in milk is very different from that of the casein
-of cheese. My object in pointing this out is to show
-that in the course of the manufacture of cheese new properties
-are developed. Skim-milk—a solution of casein—is
-tasteless and inodorous, while fresh cheese, whether
-made from skimmed or whole milk, has a very decided
-flavour and odour.</p>
-
-<p>If we now add some of our dry casein to water, it
-dissolves, forming a yellowish viscid fluid, which, on
-evaporation, becomes covered with a slight film of insoluble
-casein, which may be readily drawn off. Some
-of my readers will recognise in this description the resemblance
-of a now well-known domestic preparation of
-soluble casein, condensed milk, where it is mixed with
-much cream, and in the ordinary preparation also much
-sugar. The cream dilutes the yellowness, but does not
-quite mask it, and the viscidity is shown by the strings
-which follow the spoon when a spoonful is lifted. If a
-concentrated solution of pure casein is exposed to the air it
-rapidly putrefies, and passes through a series of changes
-that I must not tarry to describe, beyond stating that
-ammonia is given off, and some crystalline substances,
-such as <i>leucine</i>, <i>tyrosine</i>, &amp;c., very interesting to the
-physiological chemist, but not important in the kitchen,
-are formed.</p>
-
-<p>A solution of casein in water is not coagulated by boiling;
-it may be repeatedly evaporated to dryness and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
-redissolved. Upon this depends the practicability of
-preserving milk by evaporating it down, or ‘condensing.’</p>
-
-<p>This condensed milk, however, loses a little; its albumen
-is sacrificed, as everybody will understand who
-has dipped a spoon in freshly-boiled milk and observed
-the skin which the spoon removes from the surface.
-This is coagulated albumen.</p>
-
-<p>If alcohol is added to a concentrated solution of
-casein in water, a pseudo-coagulation occurs; the casein is
-precipitated as a white substance like coagulated albumen,
-but if only a little alcohol is used, the solid may be redissolved
-in water; if, however, it is thus treated with
-strong alcohol, the casein becomes difficult of solution,
-or even quite insoluble. Alcohol added to solid soluble
-casein renders it opaque, and gives it the appearance of
-coagulated albumen. The alcohol itself dissolves a little
-of this.</p>
-
-<p>The characteristic coagulation of casein, or its conversion
-from the soluble to the insoluble form, is produced
-rather mysteriously by rennet. Acids generally
-precipitate it either from aqueous solution or from milk.
-The coagulation effected by mineral acids from aqueous
-solutions is not so complete as that produced by lactic
-acid from milk, or vinegar, the former coagulum being
-more readily redissolved by alkalies or weaker basic substances
-than the latter.</p>
-
-<p>A calf has four stomachs, the fourth being that which
-corresponds to ours, both in structure and functions. It
-is lined with a membrane from which is secreted the
-gastric juice and other fluids concerned in effecting the
-conversion of food into chyme. A weak infusion made
-from a small piece of this ‘mucous membrane’ will
-coagulate the casein of three thousand times its own
-quantity of milk, or the coagulation may be effected by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
-placing a small piece of the stomach (usually salted and
-dried for the purpose) in the milk, and warming it for a
-few hours.</p>
-
-<p>Many theoretical attempts have been made to explain
-this action of the rennet. Simon and Liebig suppose
-that it acts primarily as a ferment, converting the sugar
-of milk into lactic acid, and that this lactic acid coagulates
-the casein. This theory has been controverted by
-Selmi and others, but the balance of evidence is decidedly
-in its favour. The coagulation which occurs in the
-living stomach when milk is taken as food appears to be
-due to the lactic acid of the gastric juice.</p>
-
-<p>Casein, when thoroughly coagulated by rennet, then
-purified and dried, is a hard and yellowish hornlike
-substance. It softens and swells in water, but does not
-dissolve therein, nor in alcohol nor weak acids. Strong
-mineral acids decompose it. Alkalies dissolve it readily,
-and if concentrated, decompose it on the application of
-heat. When moderately heated, it softens and may be
-drawn into threads, and becomes elastic; at a higher
-temperature it fuses, swells up, carbonises, and develops
-nearly the same products of distillation as the other
-protein compounds.</p>
-
-<p>Note the differences between this and the soluble
-casein above described, viz. that obtained by simply removing
-the fat from the milk, then evaporating away the
-water, but using no rennet.</p>
-
-<p>I have good and sufficient reasons for thus specifying
-the properties of this constituent of food. I regard
-it as the most important of all that I have to describe in
-connection with my subject—the science of cookery. It
-contains (as I shall presently show) more nutritious material
-than any other food that is ordinarily obtainable,
-and its cookery is singularly neglected, is practically an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
-unknown art, especially in this country. We commonly
-eat it raw, although in its raw state it is peculiarly indigestible,
-and in the only cooked form familiarly known
-among us here, that of a Welsh rabbit, or rarebit, it is too
-often rendered still more indigestible, though this need
-not be the case.</p>
-
-<p>Here, in this densely-populated country, where we
-import so much of our food, cheese demands our most
-profound attention. The difficulties and cost of importing
-all kinds of meat, fish, and poultry are great, while
-cheese may be cheaply and deliberately brought to us
-from any part of the world where cows or goats can be
-fed, and it can be stored more readily and kept longer
-than other kinds of animal food. All that is required to
-render it, next to bread, the staple food of Britons is
-scientific cookery.</p>
-
-<p>If I shall be able, in what is to follow, to impart to
-my fellow-countrymen, and more especially countrywomen,
-my own convictions concerning the cookability,
-and consequent improved digestibility, of cheese, I shall
-have ‘done the State some service!’</p>
-
-<p>Taking muscular fibre without bone—<i>i.e.</i> selected
-best part of the meat—beef contains on an average 72½
-per cent. of water; mutton, 73½; veal, 74½; pork, 69¾;
-fowl, 73¾; while Cheshire cheese contains only 30⅓, and
-other cheeses about the same. Thus, at starting, we
-have in every pound of cheese rather more than twice
-as much solid food as in a pound of the best meat, or
-comparing with the average of the whole carcass, including
-bone, tendons, &amp;c., the cheese has an advantage
-of three to one.</p>
-
-<p>The following results of Mulder’s analysis of casein,
-when compared with those by the same chemist of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
-albumen, gelatin and fibrin, show that there is but
-little difference in the ultimate chemical composition
-of these, so far as the constituents there named are
-concerned:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Casien amounts">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center">Casein</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Carbon</td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">53·83</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">7·15</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">15·65</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Oxygen</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb1" rowspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" rowspan="2">23·37</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Sulphur</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;<br /></p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="albumen, gelatin and fibrin amounts">
-<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">Albumen</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">Gelatin</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">Fibrin</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right">53·5</td>
-<td align="right">50·40</td>
-<td align="right">52·7</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right">7·0</td>
-<td align="right">6·64</td>
-<td align="right">6·9</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right">15·5</td>
-<td align="right">18·34</td>
-<td align="right">15·4</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Oxygen</td>
-<td align="right">22·0</td>
-<td align="right">24·62</td>
-<td align="right">23·5</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Sulphur</td>
-<td align="right">1·6</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="right">1·2</td>
-</tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Phosphorus</td>
-<td align="right">0·4</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="right">0·3</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>We may therefore conclude that, regarding these
-from the point of view of nitrogenous or flesh-forming,
-and carbonaceous or heat-giving constituents, these
-chief materials of flesh and of cheese are about equal.</p>
-
-<p>The same is the case as regards the fat. The
-quantity in the carcass of oxen, calves, sheep, lambs,
-and pigs varies, according to Dr. Edward Smith, from
-16 per cent. to 31·3 per cent. in moderately fatted
-animals; while in whole-milk cheeses it varies from 21·68
-per cent. to 32·31 per cent., coming down in skim-milk
-cheeses as low as 6·3. Dr. Smith includes Neufchâtel
-cheese, containing 18·74 per cent., among the whole-milk
-cheeses. He does not seem to be aware that the cheese
-made up between straws and sold under that name is a
-<i>ricotta</i>, or crude curd of skim-milk cheese. Its just
-value is about threepence per pound. In Italy, where it
-forms the basis of some delicious dishes (such as <i>budino<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
-di ricotta</i><a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>), it is sold for about twopence per pound, or
-less.</p>
-
-<p>There is a discrepancy in the published analyses of
-casein which demands explanation here, as it is of great
-practical importance. They generally correspond to the
-above of Mulder within small fractions, as shown below
-in those of Scherer and Dumas:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Sherer vs. Dumas">
-<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center">Scherer</td>
-<td align="center">Dumas</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Carbon</td><td align="right">54·665</td><td align="right">53·7</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Hydrogen</td><td align="right">7·465</td><td align="right">7·2</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Nitrogen</td><td align="right">15·724</td><td align="right">16·6</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="left">Oxygen, sulphur</td><td align="right"><span class="u">&nbsp;&nbsp;22·146</span></td><td align="right"><span class="u">&nbsp;&nbsp;22·5</span></td></tr>
-<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td><td align="right">100·000</td><td align="right">100·0</td></tr>
-</table></div>
-
-<p>In these the 100 parts are made up without any phosphate
-of lime, while, according to Lehmann (‘Physiological
-Chemistry,’ vol. i. p. 379, Cavendish Edition),
-‘casein that has not been treated with acids contains
-about 6 per cent. of phosphate of lime; more, consequently,
-than is contained in any of the protein compounds
-we have hitherto considered.’</p>
-
-<p>From this it appears that we may have casein with,
-and casein without, this necessary constituent of food.
-In precipitating casein for laboratory analysis, acids are
-commonly used, and thus the phosphate of lime is dissolved
-out; but I am unable at present to tell my
-readers the precise extent to which this actually occurs
-in practical cheese-making where rennet is used. What
-I have at present learned only indicates generally that
-this constituent of cheese is very variable; and I hereby
-suggest to those chemists who are professionally concerned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
-in the analysis of food, that they may supply a
-valuable contribution to our knowledge of this subject by
-simply determining the phosphate of lime contained in the
-ash of different kinds of cheese. I would do this myself,
-but, having during some ten years past nearly forsaken the
-laboratory for the writing-table, I have not the leisure for
-such work; and, worse still, have not that prime essential
-to practical research (especially of endowed research), a
-staff of obedient assistants to do the drudgery.</p>
-
-<p>The comparison specially demanded is between
-cheeses made with rennet, and those Dutch and factory
-cheeses the curd of which has been precipitated by
-hydrochloric acid. Theoretical considerations point to
-the conclusion that in the latter much or even all of the
-phosphate of lime may be left in solution in the whey,
-and thus the food-value of the cheese seriously lowered.
-We must, however, suspend judgment in the meantime.</p>
-
-<p>In comparing the nutritive value of cheese with that
-of flesh, the retention of this phosphate of lime corresponds
-with the retention of some of the juices of the
-meat, among which are the phosphates of the flesh.</p>
-
-<p>These phosphates of lime are the bone-making
-material of food, and have something to do in building
-up the brain and nervous matter, though not to the
-extent that is supposed by those who imagine that there
-is a special connection between phosphorus and the
-brain, or phosphorescence and spirituality. Bone contains
-about eleven per cent. of phosphorus, brain less than
-one per cent.</p>
-
-<p>The value of food in reference to its phosphate of
-lime is not merely a matter of percentage, as this salt
-may exist in a state of solution, as in milk, or as a solid
-very difficult of assimilation, as in bones. That retained
-in cheese is probably in an intermediate condition—not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
-actually in solution, but so finely divided as to be readily
-dissolved by the acid of the gastric juice.</p>
-
-<p>I may mention, in reference to this, that when a
-child or other young animal takes its natural food in
-the form of milk, the milk is converted into unpressed
-cheese, or curd, prior to its digestion.</p>
-
-<p>Supposing that, on an average, cheese contains only
-one-half of the 6 per cent. of phosphate of lime found,
-as above, in the casein, and taking into consideration
-the water contained in flesh, the bone, &amp;c., we may
-conclude generally that one pound of average cheese
-contains as much nutriment as three pounds of the
-average material of the carcass of an ox or sheep as
-prepared for sale by the butcher; or otherwise stated, a
-cheese of 20 lbs. weight contains as much food as a sheep
-weighing 60 lbs. as it hangs in the butcher’s shop.</p>
-
-<p>Now comes the practical question. Can we assimilate
-or convert into our own substance the cheese-food
-as easily as we may the flesh-food?</p>
-
-<p>I reply that we certainly cannot, if the cheese is eaten
-raw; but have no doubt that we may, if it be suitably
-cooked. Hence the paramount importance of this part
-of my subject. A Swiss or Scandinavian mountaineer
-can and does digest and assimilate raw cheese as a staple
-article of food, and proves its nutritive value by the result;
-but feebler bipeds of the plains and towns cannot
-do the like.</p>
-
-<p>I may here mention that I have recently made some
-experiments on the dissolving of cheese by adding
-sufficient alkali (carbonate of potash) to neutralise the
-acid it contains, in order to convert the casein into its
-original soluble form as it existed in the milk, and have
-partially succeeded both with water and milk as solvents;
-but before reporting these results in detail I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
-describe some of the practically-established methods of
-cooking cheese that are so curiously unknown or little
-known in this country.</p>
-
-<p>In the fatherland of my grandfather, Louis Gabriel
-Mattieu, one of the commonest dishes of the peasant
-who tills his own freehold and grows his own food is a
-<i>fondu</i>. This is a mixture of cheese and eggs, the cheese
-grated and beaten into the egg as in making omelettes,
-with a small addition of new milk or butter. It is
-placed in a little pan like a flower-pot saucer, cooked
-gently, served as it comes off the fire, and eaten from
-the vessel in which it is cooked. I have made many a
-hearty dinner on one of these, <i>plus</i> a lump of black bread
-and a small bottle of genuine but thin wine; the cost of
-the whole banquet at a little <i>auberge</i> being usually less
-than sixpence. The cheese is in a pasty condition, and
-partly dissolved in the milk or butter. I have tested
-the sustaining power of such a meal by doing some very
-stiff mountain climbing and long fasting after it. It is
-rather too good—over nutritious—for a man only doing
-sedentary work.</p>
-
-<p>A diluted and delicate modification of this may be
-made by taking slices of bread, or bread and butter,
-soaking them in a batter made of eggs and milk—without
-flour—then placing the slices of soaked bread in a
-pie-dish, covering each with a thick coating of grated
-cheese, and thus building up a stratified deposit to fill
-the dish. The surplus batter may be poured over the
-top; or if time is allowed for saturation, the trouble of
-preliminary soaking may be saved by simply pouring all
-the batter thus. This, when gently baked, supplies a
-delicious and highly nutritious dish. We call it ‘cheese
-pudding’ at home, but my own experience convinces me
-that we make a mistake in using it to supplement the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
-joint. It is far too nutritious for this; its savoury
-character tempts one to eat it so freely that it would be
-far wiser to use it as the Swiss peasant uses his <i>fondu</i>—<i>i.e.</i>
-as the substantial dish of a wholesome dinner.</p>
-
-<p>I have tested its digestibility by eating it heartily for
-supper. No nightmare has followed. If I sup on a
-corresponding quantity of raw cheese my sleep is miserably
-eventful.</p>
-
-<p>A correspondent writes as follows from the Charlotte
-Square Young Ladies’ Institution: ‘I have been trying
-the various ways of cooking cheese mentioned in your
-articles in “Knowledge,” and have one or two improvements
-to suggest in the making of cheese pudding. I
-find the result is much better when the bread is grated
-like the cheese, and thoroughly mixed with it; then the
-batter poured over both. I think you will also find it
-better when baked in a shallow tin, such as is used for
-Yorkshire pudding. This gives more of the browned
-surface, which is the best of it. Another improvement
-is to put some of the crumbled bread (on paper) in the
-oven till brown, and eat with it (as for game). I have
-not succeeded in making any improvement in the
-<i>fondu</i> (see <a href="#Page_139">page 139</a>), which is delightful.’</p>
-
-<p>My recollections of the <i>fondu</i> of the Swiss peasant
-being so eminently satisfactory on all points—nutritive
-or sustaining value, appetising flavour and economy—I
-have sought for a recipe in several cookery-books, and
-find at last a near approach to it in an old edition of
-Mrs. Rundell’s ‘Domestic Cookery.’ A similar dish is
-described in that useful book ‘Cre-Fydd’s Family Fare,’
-under the name of ‘<i>Cheese Soufflé</i> or <i>Fondu</i>.’<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
-looked for it in more pretentious works, especially in
-the most pretentious and the most disappointing one I
-have yet been tempted to purchase, viz. the 27th edition
-of Francatelli’s ‘Modern Cook,’ a work which I cannot
-recommend to anybody who has less than 20,000<i>l.</i> a
-year and a corresponding luxury of liver.</p>
-
-<p>Amidst all the culinary monstrosities of these ‘high-class’
-manuals, I fail to find anything concerning the
-cookery of cheese that is worth the attention of my
-readers. Francatelli has, under the name of ‘Eggs à la
-Suisse,’ a sort of <i>fondu</i>, but decidedly inferior to the
-common <i>fondu</i> of the humble Swiss osteria, as Francatelli
-lays the eggs upon slices of cheese, and prescribes
-especially that the yolks shall not be broken; omits the
-milk, but substitutes (for high-class extravagance’ sake,
-I suppose) ‘a gill of double cream,’ to be poured over
-the top. Thus the cheese is not intermingled with the
-egg, lest it should spoil the appearance of the unbroken
-yolks, its casein is made leathery instead of being dissolved,
-and the substitution of sixpenny worth of double
-cream for a halfpenny worth of milk supplies the high-class
-victim with fivepence halfpenny worth of biliary
-derangement.</p>
-
-<p>In Gouffé’s ‘Royal Cookery Book’ (the Household
-Edition of which contains a great deal that is really
-useful to an English housewife) I find a better recipe
-under the name of ‘<i>Cheese Soufflés</i>.’ He says: ‘Put two
-ounces and a quarter of flour in a stewpan, with one
-pint and a half of milk; season with salt and pepper;
-stew over the fire till boiling, and should there be any
-lumps, strain the <i>soufflé</i> paste through a tammy cloth;
-add seven ounces of grated Parmesan cheese, and seven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
-yolks of eggs; whip the whites till they are firm, and
-add them to the mixture; fill some paper cases with it,
-and bake in the oven for fifteen minutes.’</p>
-
-<p>Cre-Fydd says: ‘Grate six ounces of rich cheese
-(Parmesan is the best); put it into an enamelled saucepan,
-with a teaspoonful of flour of mustard, a saltspoonful
-of white pepper, a grain of cayenne, the sixth part of
-a nutmeg, grated, two ounces of butter, two tablespoonfuls
-of baked flour, and a gill of new milk; stir it over a
-slow fire till it becomes like smooth, thick cream (but it
-must not boil); add the well-beaten yolks of six eggs,
-beat for ten minutes, then add the whites of the eggs
-beaten to a stiff froth; put the mixture into a tin or a
-cardboard mould, and bake in a quick oven for twenty
-minutes. Serve immediately.’</p>
-
-<p>Here is a true cookery of cheese by solution, and the
-result is an excellent dish. But there is some unnecessary
-complication and kitchen pedantry involved. The
-<i>soufflé</i> part of the business is a mere puffing up of the
-mixture for the purpose of displaying the cleverness of
-the cook, being quite useless to the consumer, as it subsides
-before it can be eaten. It further involves practical
-mischief, as it cannot be obtained without toasting
-the surface of the cheese into an air-tight leathery skin
-that is abnormally indigestible. The following is my
-own simplified recipe:</p>
-
-<p>Take a quarter of a pound of grated cheese; add it to
-a gill of milk in which is dissolved as much powdered
-<i>bicarbonate of potash</i> as will stand upon a threepenny-piece;
-mustard, pepper, &amp;c., as prescribed above by Cre-Fydd.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a>
-Heat this carefully until the cheese is completely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
-dissolved. Then beat up three eggs, yolks and whites
-together, and add them to this solution of cheese, stirring
-the whole. Now take a shallow metal or earthenware
-dish or tray that will bear heating; put a little butter
-on this, and heat the butter till it frizzles. Then pour
-the mixture into the tray, and bake or fry it until it is
-nearly solidified.</p>
-
-<p>A cheaper dish may be made by increasing the
-proportion of cheese—say, six to eight ounces to
-three eggs, or only one egg to a quarter of a pound
-of cheese for a hard-working man with powerful digestion.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. E. D. Girdlestone writes as follows (I quote with
-permission): ‘As regards the “cheese <i>fondu</i>,” your
-recipe for which has enabled me to turn cheese to practical
-account as <i>food</i>, you may be glad to hear that it
-has become a common dish in our microscopic <i>ménage</i>.
-Indeed cheese, which formerly was poison to me, is now
-alike pleasant and digestible. But some of your readers
-may like to know that the addition of <i>bread-crumbs</i> is,
-in my judgment at least, a great improvement, giving
-greater lightness to the compost, and removing the
-harshness of flavour otherwise incidental to a mixture
-which comprises so large a proportion of cheese. We
-(my wife and I) think this a <i>great</i> improvement.’</p>
-
-<p>I have received two other letters making, quite independently,
-the same suggestion concerning the bread-crumbs.
-I have tried the addition, and agree with
-Mr. Girdlestone that it is a great improvement as food
-for such as ourselves, who are brain-workers, and for all
-others whose occupations are at all sedentary. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
-undiluted <i>fondu</i> is too nutritious for us, though suitable
-for the mountaineer.</p>
-
-<p>The chief difficulty in preparing this dish conveniently
-is that of obtaining suitable vessels for the final frying
-or baking, as each portion should be poured into, and
-fried or baked in, a separate dish, so that each may, as
-in Switzerland, have his own <i>fondu</i> complete, and eat it
-from the dish as it comes from the fire. As demand
-creates supply, our ironmongers, &amp;c., will soon learn to
-meet this demand if it arises. I have written to Messrs.
-Griffiths &amp; Browett, of Birmingham, large manufacturers
-of what is technically called ‘hollow ware’—<i>i.e.</i> vessels
-of all kinds knocked up from a single piece of metal without
-any soldering—and they have made suitable <i>fondu</i>
-dishes according to my specification, and supply them
-to the shopkeepers.</p>
-
-<p>The bicarbonate of potash is an original novelty that
-will possibly alarm some of my non-chemical readers.
-I advocate its use for two reasons: first, it effects a
-better solution of the casein by neutralising the free
-lactic acid that inevitably exists in milk supplied to
-towns, and any free acid that may remain in the cheese.
-At a farmhouse, where the milk is just drawn from the
-cow, it is unnecessary for this purpose, as such new milk
-is itself slightly alkaline.</p>
-
-<p>My second reason is physiological, and of greater
-weight. Salts of potash are necessary constituents of
-human food. They exist in all kinds of wholesome
-vegetables and fruits, and in the juices of <i>fresh</i> meat,
-but <i>they are wanting in cheese</i>, having, on account of
-their great solubility, been left behind in the whey.</p>
-
-<p>This absence of potash appears to me to be the one
-serious objection to the free use of cheese diet. The
-Swiss peasant escapes the mischief by his abundant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
-salads, which eaten raw contain all their potash salts,
-instead of leaving the greater part in the saucepan, as
-do cabbages, &amp;c., when cooked in boiling water. In
-Norway, where salads are scarce, the bonder and his
-housemen have at times suffered greatly from scurvy,
-especially in the far north, and would be severely
-victimised but for special remedies that they use (the
-mottebeer, cranberry, &amp;c., grown and preserved especially
-for the purpose). The Laplanders make a broth
-of scurvy-grass and similar herbs; I have watched them
-gathering these, and observed that the wild celery was a
-leading ingredient.</p>
-
-<p>Scurvy on board ship results from eating salt meat,
-the potash of which has escaped by exosmosis into the
-brine or pickle. The sailor now escapes it by drinking
-citrate of potash in the form of lime-juice, and by
-alternating salt junk with rations of tinned meats.</p>
-
-<p>I once lived for six days on bread and cheese only,
-tasting no other food. I had, in company with C. M.
-Clayton (son of the Senator of Delaware, who negotiated
-the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty), taken a passage from Malta
-to Athens in a little schooner, and expecting a three
-days’ journey we took no other rations than a lump of
-Cheshire cheese and a supply of bread. Bad weather
-doubled the expected length of our journey.</p>
-
-<p>We were both young, and proud of our hardihood in
-bearing privations, were staunch disciples of Diogenes;
-but on the last day we succumbed, and bartered the
-remainder of our bread and cheese for some of the
-boiled horse-beans and cabbage-broth of the forecastle.
-The cheese, highly relished at first, had become positively
-nauseous, and our craving for the forecastle
-vegetable broth was absurd, considering the full view we
-had of its constituents and of the dirtiness of its cooks.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>I attribute this to the lack of potash salts in the
-cheese and bread. It was similar to the craving for
-common salt by cattle that lack necessary chlorides in
-their food. I am satisfied that cheese can never take
-the place in an economic dietary, otherwise justified
-by its nutritious composition, unless this deficiency of
-potash is somehow supplied. My device of using it
-with milk as a solvent supplies it in a simple and
-natural manner.</p>
-
-<p>The milk is not necessary, though preferable. I find
-that a solution of cheese may be made in water by
-simply grating or thinly slicing the cheese, and adding it
-to about its own bulk of water in which the bicarbonate
-of potash is dissolved.</p>
-
-<p>The proportion of bicarbonate, which I theoretically
-estimate as demanded for supplying the deficiency of
-potash, is at the rate of about a quarter of an ounce to
-the pound of cheese; and I find that it will bear this
-quantity without the flavour of the potash being detected.
-The proportion of potash in cows’ milk is more than
-double the quantity thus supplied, but I assume that
-the cheese loses about half of its original supply, and
-base this assumption on the fact that ordinary cheese
-contains an average of about 4 per cent. of saline
-matter, while the proportion of saline matter to the
-casein and fat of the milk amounts to 5 per cent.
-This is a rough practical estimate, kept rather below
-the actual quantity demanded; therefore more than the
-quarter ounce may be used with impunity. I have
-doubled it in some of my experiments, and thus have
-just detected the bitter flavour of the salt.</p>
-
-<p>As regards the solubility of the cheese, I should add
-that there are great differences in different samples.
-Generally speaking, the newer and milder the cheese<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
-the more soluble. Some that I have tried leave a stubbornly
-insoluble residuum, which is detestably tough.
-I found the same cheese to be unusually indigestible
-when eaten with bread in the ordinary raw state, and
-have reason to believe that it is what I have called
-‘bosch cheese,’ to be described presently.</p>
-
-<p>The successful solution, in either alkalised milk or
-alkalised water, cools into a custard-like mass, the thickness
-or viscosity varying, of course, with the quantity of
-solvent. It may be kept for use a short time (from two
-or three days to two or three weeks, according to the
-weather), after which it becomes putrescent.</p>
-
-<p>As now well known to all concerned, a great deal of
-‘butterine,’ or ‘oleomargarine,’ or ‘margarine,’ or ‘bosch,’
-is made by extracting from the waste fat of oxen and
-sheep some of its harder constituents, the palmitic and
-stearic acids, then working up the softer remainder with
-a little milk, or even without the milk, into a resemblance
-to butter. When properly prepared and honestly sold
-for what it is, no fair grounds for objection exist; but it
-is too commonly sold for what it is not—<i>i.e.</i> as butter.
-For cookery purposes a fair sample of ‘bosch’ is quite
-as good as ‘inferior dosset.’ I have tasted some that is
-scarcely distinguishable from best Devonshire fresh.</p>
-
-<p>More recently this enterprise has been further developed.
-Genuine butter is made from cream skimmed
-from the milk. The skimmed milk is then curdled, and
-to the whey thus precipitated a sufficient quantity of
-bosch is added to replace the butter that has been sent
-to market. A still more objectionable compound is
-made by using hogs’ lard as a substitute for the natural
-cream. These extraneous fats render the cheese more
-indigestible. The curd precipitated from skim-milk is
-harder and tougher than that thrown down from whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
-milk, and these added fats merely envelop the broken
-fragments of this. Hence my suspicion that the cheese
-leaving the above-described insoluble residuum was a
-sample of ‘bosch’ cheese.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Since the above was written I have met with the
-following in the <i>Times</i>, bringing the subject up to
-latest date, and I take the liberty of reprinting the larger
-part of this interesting and clearly-written communication:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<div class="center">‘IMITATED DAIRY PRODUCTS.</div>
-
-<p>‘The profitable utilisation of refuse products has
-always been one of the most difficult problems which
-have confronted manufacturers. Until recently the disposal
-of skim-milk was one of the difficulties of the
-managers of butter factories, or “creameries” as they are
-termed in the United States. Similarly, the sale of the
-internal fat of animals slaughtered for food, with the
-exception of lard, was practically restricted to the manufacturers
-of soap and candles. It was reserved to a
-Frenchman, M. Mège-Mauries, to discover the first step
-towards a more profitable use of these substances. He
-showed that by a judicious combination of milk and the
-clarified fat of animals a substance could be produced
-which closely resembled butter. So close, indeed, is the
-resemblance of imitation butter to the real article that
-the skill of the chemist must be invoked to render detection
-positive, if the artificial butter is good of its kind.
-So recondite, indeed, is the test of the chemist that it
-depends upon the percentage of volatile oils in butter-fat
-and in caul-fat respectively.</p>
-
-<p>‘Artificial butter is the result of several processes.
-The internal fat of cattle is first chopped into small
-pieces, and then passed through a huge and somewhat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
-modified sausage-machine. The finely-divided suet is
-afterwards placed in suitable vessels, and heated up
-to 122° Fahr., but a higher temperature must be
-avoided, otherwise a portion of the stearine, or true tallow
-of the suet, becomes inextricably mixed with the oleomargarine.
-It need scarcely be added that the tallow
-taste would be fatal to the manufacture of a first-class
-article. The melted fat is transferred to casks and left
-to cool; afterwards it is put in small quantities into
-coarse bags, several of which are made into a pile with
-iron plates between them, and placed in a hydraulic
-press. The result is the expression of the pure oleomargarine
-as a clear yellow oil, the solid stearine remaining
-in the bags.</p>
-
-<p>‘The next step is the manufacture of this oleomargarine
-into the substance which has been designated
-“butterine,” and which is quoted on the London market as
-“bosch.” The “oleo” is remelted at the lowest possible
-temperature, mixed with a certain proportion of milk
-and of butter, and then churned. The result is the production
-of a material closely resembling butter, in fact
-practically identical so far as appearance is concerned.
-It is washed, worked, and otherwise treated like real
-butter, and packed to simulate the kinds of butter which
-are most in demand on the market to which it is sent.
-In London all kinds of butter are sold, and we believe
-that they are all more or less imitated.</p>
-
-<p>‘Unfortunately for the consumer of butterine, not all
-that is sold, even as butter, is made with so much regard
-to care and cleanliness, or with such comparatively unobjectionable
-materials. The demand for oleomargarine,
-which constitutes about 60 per cent. of the mass that
-is churned, has naturally raised its price, and various
-substitutes have been tried with more or less success.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
-Lard has been extensively used, and is said to answer
-fairly well. Oils of various kinds have also had their
-trial, but used alone their melting point is too low.
-Earth-nut oil is used in small quantities by some makers
-in order to impart an agreeable flavour, especially in
-cases where the artificial butter has been “weighted” by
-the addition of water to the milk, or meal to an inferior
-oil.</p>
-
-<p>‘The adaptation of M. Mège’s process to the imitation
-of other dairy products is a natural sequence to the
-success, in a commercial sense, which has attended the
-manufacture of artificial butter. The skim-milk difficulty
-in the American butter factories has set their managers
-to work at the problem of its conversion into something
-saleable for some time past. This difficulty has been
-increased of late years by the invention of the cream
-separator, which deprives the milk of practically all its
-cream; but on the large dairy farms of Denmark, where
-from 100 to 300 cows are kept and these separators are
-used, the skim-milk is made into skim-cheese, and the
-working classes in that country do not object to eat a
-nutritious article of diet which they can buy at about
-fourpence per pound. But neither the American nor
-the English labourer, as a general rule, likes a cheese
-that is at the same time exceedingly poor in fat and
-excessively hard to bite.</p>
-
-<p>‘Obviously the first step was to add fat to the skim-milk
-so as to replace the cream which had been taken
-off. This, however, was no easy matter, for neither oleomargarine
-nor lard would mix with the skim-milk when
-directly applied. The imitation cheese attempted to be
-made in this way was wretchedly bad; and, when cut,
-the added fatty matter was found in streaks, and to a
-great extent oozed out in its original condition. “Lard-cheese,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
-in fact, soon became a by-word and a reproach,
-and it is stated that last year a large quantity of poor,
-unsophisticated cheese was sold under that name, and
-thus increased its evil reputation.</p>
-
-<p>‘But the utilisation of the skim-milk still remained a
-necessity to the managers of the “creameries,” if they
-were to be commercially successful. The question was,
-therefore, considered whether it would not be possible
-to make an artificial cream which should replace the
-natural cream which had been taken off the milk. This
-idea was soon put to a practical test, and with most
-remarkable results.</p>
-
-<p>‘The process now adopted begins with the manufacture
-of artificial cream as follows: A certain quantity
-of skim-milk is heated to about 85° Fahr., and one-half
-the quantity of either lard, oleomargarine, or olive
-oil, as the case may be. These substances are conveyed
-through separate pipes into an “emulsion” machine,
-which subdivides both materials to a surprising degree,
-while it mixes them thoroughly together—the arrangement
-insuring that the machine is regularly fed with the
-due proportions of the substances which are being used.
-It is stated that the artificial cream made with olive oil
-in this way is not objected to in the United States for use
-in tea and coffee.</p>
-
-<p>‘For the manufacture of imitation cheese, about 4½
-per cent. of this imitation cream is added to the
-skim-milk. The latter being raised to 85° Fahr., and
-the former to 135° Fahr. or upwards, the mixture
-attains a temperature of about 90° Fahr. The remainder
-of the process is identical with that used in
-the manufacture of American Cheddar cheese, except
-that a special mechanical agitator is used to insure that
-the curd shall be evenly stirred and cooked, so as to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
-avoid any loss of fat in the whey. Success or failure in
-the manufacture of imitation cheese seems to depend
-chiefly upon the perfect emulsion of the skim-milk with
-the fat in the preliminary process of making artificial
-cream. That having been accomplished, the remaining
-processes are said to be perfectly easy and satisfactory.
-It has been asserted by competent judges that the best
-descriptions of oleomargarine cheese can with difficulty,
-if at all, be detected from the ordinary American Cheddar
-of commerce; but the imitation product has nevertheless a
-tendency to become rapidly mouldy after having been cut.</p>
-
-<p>‘The trade in imitation butter is now something
-enormous and increases every year; in the Netherlands
-alone there are sixty or seventy factories. Imitation
-cheese is only just beginning to appear on the London
-market, but there can be little doubt that before long it
-will compete successfully with all but the best and most
-delicate descriptions of the real article, unless it is
-branded so as to show its true character. One firm
-alone, in New York State, made 200,000 lbs. of imitation
-cheese last year, and their factories are in full work
-again this year.’</p></div>
-
-<p>My first acquaintance with the rational cookery of
-cheese was in the autumn of 1842, when I dined with the
-monks of St. Bernard. Being the only guest, I was the
-first to be supplied with soup, and then came a dish of
-grated cheese. Being young and bashful, I was ashamed
-to display my ignorance by asking what I was to do with
-the cheese, but made a bold dash, nevertheless, and
-sprinkled some of it into my soup. I then learned that
-my guess was quite correct; the prior and the monks
-did the same.</p>
-
-<p>On walking on to Italy I learned that there such use<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
-of cheese is universal. Minestra without Parmesan would
-in Italy be regarded as we in England should regard
-muffins and crumpets without butter. During the forty
-years that have elapsed since my first sojourn in Italy, my
-sympathies are continually lacerated when I contemplate
-the melancholy spectacle of human beings eating thin
-soup without any grated cheese.</p>
-
-<p>Not only in soups, but in many other dishes, it is
-similarly used. As an example, I may name ‘<i>Risotto à
-la Milanese</i>,’ a delicious, wholesome, and economical
-dish—a sort of stew composed of rice and the giblets of
-fowls, usually charged about twopence to threepence
-per portion at Italian restaurants. This, I suppose, is
-the reason why I find no recipe for it in the ‘high-class’
-cookery-books. It is always served with grated Parmesan.
-The same with the many varieties of paste, of
-which macaroni and vermicelli are the best known in
-this country.</p>
-
-<p>In all these the cheese is sprinkled over, and then
-stirred into the soup, &amp;c., while it is hot. The cheese
-being finely divided is fused at once, and thus delicately
-cooked. This is quite different from the ‘macaroni
-cheese’ commonly prepared in England by depositing
-macaroni in a pie-dish, then covering it with a stratum
-of grated cheese, and placing this in an oven or before a
-fire until the cheese is desiccated, browned, and converted
-into a horny, caseous form of carbon that would induce
-chronic dyspepsia in the stomach of a wild boar if he fed
-upon it for a week.</p>
-
-<p>In all preparations of Italian pastes, risottos, purées,
-&amp;c., the cheese is intimately mixed throughout, and
-softened and diffused thereby in the manner above
-described.</p>
-
-<p>The Italians themselves imagine that only their own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
-Parmesan cheese is fit for this purpose, and have infected
-many Englishmen with the same idea. Thus it
-happens that fancy prices are paid in this country for
-that particular cheese, which nearly resembles the cheese
-known in our midland counties as ‘skim dick’—sold
-there at about fourpence per pound, or given by the farmers
-to their labourers. It is cheese ‘that has sent
-its butter to market,’ being made from the skim-milk
-which remains in the dairy after the pigs have been fully
-supplied.</p>
-
-<p>I have used this kind of cheese as a substitute for
-Parmesan, and I find it answers the purpose, though it
-has not the fine flavour of the best qualities of Parmesan.
-The only fault of our ordinary whole-milk English
-and American cheeses is that they are too rich, and cannot
-be so finely grated on account of their more unctuous
-structure, due to the cream they contain.</p>
-
-<p>I note that in the recipes of high-class cookery-books,
-where Parmesan is prescribed, cream is commonly added.
-Sensible English cooks, who use Cheshire, Cheddar, or
-good American cheese, are practically including the Parmesan
-and the cream in natural combination. By
-allowing these cheeses to dry, or by setting aside the
-outer part of the cheese for the purpose, the difficulty of
-grating is overcome.</p>
-
-<p>I have now to communicate another result of my
-cheese-cooking researches, viz. a new dish—<i>cheese-porridge</i>—or,
-I may say, a new class of dishes—cheese-porridges.
-They are not intended for epicures, who only
-live to eat, but for men and women who eat in order to
-live and work. These combinations of cheese are more
-especially fitted for those whose work is muscular, and
-who work in the open air. Sedentary brain-workers
-should use them carefully, lest they suffer from over-nutrition,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
-which is but a few degrees worse than partial
-starvation.</p>
-
-<p>My typical cheese-porridge is ordinary oatmeal-porridge
-made in the usual manner, but to which grated
-cheese, or some of the cheese solution above described,
-is added, either while in the cookery-pot or after it is
-taken out, and yet as hot as possible. It should be
-sprinkled gradually and well stirred in.</p>
-
-<p>Another kind of cheese-porridge or cheese-pudding is
-made by adding cheese to <i>baked</i> potatoes—the potatoes
-to be taken out of their skins and well mashed while the
-grated cheese is sprinkled and intermingled. A little
-milk may or may not be added, according to taste and
-convenience. This is better suited for those whose occupations
-are sedentary, potatoes being less nutritious
-and more easily digested than oatmeal. They are chiefly
-composed of starch, which is a heat-giver or fattener,
-while the cheese is highly nitrogenous, and supplies the
-elements in which the potato is deficient, the two together
-forming a fair approach to the theoretically
-demanded balance of constituents.</p>
-
-<p>I say <i>baked</i> potatoes rather than boiled, and perhaps
-should explain my reasons, though in doing so I anticipate
-what I shall explain more fully when on the
-subject of vegetable food.</p>
-
-<p>Raw potatoes contain potash salts which are easily
-soluble in water. I find that when the potato is boiled
-some of the potash comes out into the water, and thus
-the vegetable is robbed of a very valuable constituent.
-The baked potato contains all its original saline constituents
-which, as I have already stated, are specially
-demanded as an addition to cheese-food.</p>
-
-<p>Hasty pudding made, as usual, of wheat flour, may
-be converted from an insipid to a savoury and highly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
-nutritious porridge by the addition of cheese in like
-manner.</p>
-
-<p>The same with boiled rice, whether whole or ground,
-also sago, tapioca, and other forms of edible starch.
-Supposing whole rice is used—and I think this is the
-best—the cheese may be sprinkled among the grains of
-rice and well stirred or mashed up with them. The addition
-of a little brown gravy to this, with or without
-chicken giblets, gives us an Italian <i>risotto</i>. The Indian-corn
-stirabout of the poor Irish cottier would be much
-improved both in flavour and nutritive value by the
-addition of a little grated cheese.</p>
-
-<p>Pease pudding is not improved by cheese. The
-chemistry of this will come out when I explain the composition
-of peas, beans, &amp;c. The same applies to pea
-soup.</p>
-
-<p>I might enumerate other methods of cooking cheese
-by thus adding it in a finely-divided state to other kinds
-of food, but if I were to express my own convictions on
-the subject I should stir up prejudice by naming some
-mixtures which many people would denounce. As an
-example I may refer to a dish which I invented more
-than twenty years ago—viz. fish and cheese pudding,
-made by taking the remains from a dish of boiled codfish,
-haddock, or other <i>white</i> fish, mashing it with bread-crumbs,
-grated cheese, and ketchup, then warming in an
-oven and serving after the usual manner of scalloped
-fish. Any remains of oyster sauce may be advantageously
-included.</p>
-
-<p>I find this delicious, but others may not. I frequently
-add grated cheese to boiled fish as ordinarily served, and
-have lately made a fish sauce by dissolving grated cheese
-in milk with the aid of a little bicarbonate of potash, and
-adding this to ordinary melted butter. I suggest these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
-cheese mixtures to others with some misgivings as regards
-palatability, after learning the revelations of Darwin
-on the persistence of heredity. It is quite possible that,
-being a compound of the Swiss Mattieu with the Welsh
-Williams (cheese on both sides), I may inherit an abnormal
-fondness for this staple food of the mountaineers.</p>
-
-<p>Be this as it may, so far as the mere palate is concerned;
-but in the chemistry of all my advocacy of cheese
-and its cookery I have full confidence. Rendered digestible
-by simple and suitable cookery, and added with a little
-potash salt to farinaceous food of all kinds, it affords exactly
-what is required to supply a theoretically complete
-and a most economical dietary, without the aid of any
-other kind of animal food. The potash salts may be advantageously
-supplied by a liberal second course of fruit
-or salad.</p>
-
-<p>One more of my heretical applications of grated
-cheese must be specified. It is that of sprinkling it freely
-over ordinary stewed tripe, which thus becomes <i>extraordinary</i>
-stewed tripe. Or a solution of cheese may be
-mixed with liquor of the stew. It may not be generally
-known that stewed tripe is the most easily digestible of
-all solid animal food. This was shown by the experiments
-of Dr. Beaumont on his patient, Alexis St. Martin,
-who was so obliging (from a scientific point of view) as
-to discharge a gun in such a manner that it shot away
-the front of his own stomach and left there, after the
-healing of the wound, a valved window through which,
-with the aid of a simple optical contrivance, the work of
-digestion could be watched. Dr. Beaumont found that
-while beef and mutton required three hours for digestion,
-tripe was digested in one hour.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></p>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
-<p>I add by way of postscript a recipe for a dish lately
-invented by my wife. It is vegetable marrow <i>au gratin</i>,
-prepared by simply boiling the vegetable as usual,
-slicing it, placing the slices in a dish, covering them with
-grated cheese, and then browning slightly in an oven or
-before the fire, as in preparing the well-known ‘cauliflower
-<i>au gratin</i>.’ I have modified this (with improvement,
-I believe) by mashing the boiled marrow and
-stirring the grated cheese into the midst of it whilst as
-hot as possible; or, better still, by adding a little of the
-solution of cheese above described to the purée of mashed
-marrow and stirring it well in while hot. To please the
-ladies, and make it look pretty on the table, a little more
-grated cheese may be sprinkled on the top of this and
-browned in the oven or with a salamander. People with
-weak digestive powers should set aside the pretty.</p>
-
-<p>Turnips may be similarly treated as ‘mashed turnips
-<i>au gratin</i>.’ I recommend this especially to my vegetarian
-friends, who have no objection to cheese, but do
-not properly appreciate it.</p>
-
-<p>Taking as I do great interest in their efforts, regarding
-them as pioneers of a great and certainly approaching
-reform, I have frequently dined at their restaurants
-(always do so when within reach, as I am only a flesh-eater
-for convenience’ sake), and by the experience thus
-afforded of their cookery, am convinced that they are
-losing many converts by the lack of cheese in many of
-their most important dishes.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a><br />
-
-<small>FAT—MILK.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">We</span> all know that there is a considerable difference
-between raw fat and cooked fat; but what is the
-<i>rationale</i> of this difference? Is it anything beyond the
-obvious fusion or semi-fusion of the solid?</p>
-
-<p>These are very natural and simple questions, but in
-no work on chemistry or technology can I find any
-answer to them, or even any attempt at an answer. I
-will therefore do the best I can towards solving the
-problem in my own way.</p>
-
-<p>All the cookable and eatable fats fall into the class of
-‘fixed oils,’ so named by chemists to distinguish them
-from the ‘volatile oils,’ otherwise described as ‘essential
-oils.’ The distinction between these two classes is
-simple enough. The volatile oils (mostly of vegetable
-origin) may be distilled or simply evaporated away like
-water or alcohol, and leave no residue. The fixed oils
-similarly treated are dissociated more or less completely.
-This has been already explained in <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Chapter VII.</a></p>
-
-<p>Otherwise expressed, the boiling point of the volatile
-oils is below their dissociation point. The fixed oils are
-those which are dissociated at a temperature below their
-boiling point.</p>
-
-<p>My object in thus expressing this difference will be
-understood upon a little reflection. The volatile oils,
-when heated, being distilled without change are uncookable;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
-while the fixed oils if similarly heated suffer
-various degrees of change as their temperature is raised,
-and may be completely decomposed by steady application
-of heat in a closed vessel without the aid of any
-other chemical agent than the heat itself. This ‘destructive
-distillation’ converts them into solid carbon
-and hydro-carbon gases, somewhat similar to those we
-obtain by the destructive distillation of coal.</p>
-
-<p>If we watch the changes occurring as the heat
-advances to this complete dissociation point we may
-observe a minor or partial dissociation proceeding gradually
-onward, resembling that which I have already
-described as occurring when sugar is similarly treated
-(<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Chapter VII.</a> <a href="#Page_87">page 87</a>).</p>
-
-<p>But in ordinary cooking we do not go so far as to
-carbonise the fat itself, though we do brown or partially
-carbonise the membrane which envelopes the fat. What
-then is the nature of this minor dissociation, if such
-occurs?</p>
-
-<p>Before giving my answer to this question I must
-explain the chemical constitution of fat. It is a compound
-of a very weak base with very weak acids. The
-basic substance is glycerine, the acids (not sour at all,
-but so named because they combine with bases as the
-actually sour acids do) are stearic acid, palmitic acid,
-oleic acid, &amp;c., and bear the general name of ‘fatty acids.’
-They are solid or liquid, according to temperature.
-When solid they are pearly crystalline substances, when
-fused they are oily liquids.</p>
-
-<p>To simplify, I will take one of these as a type, and
-that the one which is the chief constituent of animal
-fats, viz. stearic acid. I have a lump of it before me.
-Newly broken through, it might at a distance be mistaken
-for a piece of Carrara marble. It is granular, like the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
-marble, but not so hard, and, when rubbed with the
-hand, differs from the marble in betraying its origin by
-a small degree of unctuousness, but it can scarcely be
-described as greasy.</p>
-
-<p>I find by experiment that this may be mixed with
-glycerine without combination taking place, that when
-heated with glycerine just to its fusing point, and the
-two are agitated together, the combination is by no
-means complete. Instead of obtaining a soft, smooth
-fat, I obtain a granular fat small stearic crystals with
-glycerine amongst them. It is a <i>mixture</i> of stearic acid
-and glycerine, not a chemical compound; it is stearic
-acid and glycerine, but not a stearate of glycerine or
-glycerine stearate.</p>
-
-<p>A similar separation is what I suppose to occur in
-the cooking of animal fat. I find that mutton-fat, beef-fat,
-or other fat when raw is perfectly smooth, as tested
-by rubbing a small quantity, free from membrane, between
-the finger and thumb, or by the still more delicate
-test of rubbing it between the tip of the tongue and the
-palate. But dripping, whether of beef, or mutton, or
-poultry, is granular, as anybody who has ever eaten
-bread and dripping knows well enough, and the manufacturers
-of ‘butterine,’ or ‘bosch,’ know too well, the
-destruction or prevention of this granulation being one
-of the difficulties of their art.</p>
-
-<p>My theory of the cookery of fat is simply that heat,
-when continued long enough, or raised sufficiently high,
-effects an incipient dissociation of the fatty acids from
-the glycerine, and thus assists the digestive organs by
-presenting the base and the acids in a condition better
-fitted (or advanced by one stage) for the new combinations
-demanded by assimilation. Some physiologists
-have lately asserted that the fat of our food is not assimilated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
-at all—not laid down again as fat, but is used
-directly as fuel for the maintenance of animal heat.</p>
-
-<p>If this is correct, the advantage of the preliminary dissociation
-is more decided, for the combustible portion of
-the fat is its fatty acids; the glycerine is an impediment
-to combustion, so much so that the modern candle-maker
-removes it, and thereby greatly improves the combustibility
-of his candles.</p>
-
-<p>It may be that the glycerine of the fat we eat is assimilated
-like sugar, while the fatty acids act directly as
-fuel. This view may reconcile some of the conflicting
-facts (such as the existence of fat in the carnivora) that
-stand in the way of the theory of the uses of fat food
-above referred to, according to which fat is not fattening,
-and those who would ‘Bant’ should eat fat freely to
-maintain animal heat, while very abstemious in the
-consumption of sugar and farinaceous food.</p>
-
-<p>The difference between tallow and dripping is instructive.
-Their origin is the same; both are melted
-fats—beef or mutton fats—and both contain the same
-fatty acids and glycerine, but there is a visible and tangible
-difference in their molecular condition. Tallow is
-smooth and homogeneous, dripping decidedly granular.</p>
-
-<p>I attribute this difference to the fact that in rendering
-tallow, the heat is maintained no longer than is necessary
-to effect the fusion; while, in the ordinary production
-of dripping, the fat is exposed in the dripping-pan to a
-long continuance of heat, besides being highly heated
-when used in basting. Therefore the dissociation is
-carried farther in the case of the dripping, and the result
-becomes sensible.</p>
-
-<p>I have observed that home-rendered lard, that obtained
-in English farmhouses, where the ‘scratchings’
-(<i>i.e.</i> the membranous parts) are frizzled, is more granular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
-than the lard we now obtain in such abundance from
-Chicago and other wholesale hog regions. I have not
-witnessed the lard rendering at Chicago, but have little
-doubt that economy of fuel is practised in conducting it,
-and therefore less dissociation would be effected than in
-the domestic retail process.</p>
-
-<p>Some of the early manufacturers of ‘bosch’ purified
-their fat by the process recommended and practised by
-the French Academicians MM. Dubrunfaut and Fua (see
-page 102). I wrote about it in 1871, and consequently
-received some samples of artificial butter thus made in
-the Midlands. It was pure fat, perfectly wholesome,
-but, although coloured to imitate butter, had the granular
-character of dripping. Since that time great progress
-has been made in this branch of industry. I have lately
-tasted samples of pure ‘bosch’ or ‘oleomargarine’ undistinguishable
-from churned cream or good butter,
-though offered for sale at 8½<i>d.</i> per lb. in wholesale packages.
-In the preparation of this the high temperatures of
-the process of the Academicians are carefully avoided,
-and the smoothness of pure butter is obtained. I mention
-this now merely in confirmation of my theory of the
-<i>rationale</i> of fat cookery, but shall return to this subject
-of ‘bosch’ or butterine again, as it has considerable intrinsic
-interest in reference to our food supplies, and
-should be better understood than it is.</p>
-
-<p>If this theory of fat cookery and the preceding theoretical
-explanations of the cookery of gelatin and fibrin
-are correct, a broad practical deduction follows, viz. that
-in the cookery of fat the full temperature of 212° or even
-a much higher temperature does no mischief, or may be
-desirable, while all the other constituents of meat are
-better cooked at a temperature not exceeding 212°; the
-albumen especially at a considerably lower temperature.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>There is neither coagulation nor dehydration to be
-feared as regards the fat, unless the heat is raised to that
-of the dissociation of the fixed oils, which, as already
-explained, is much above 212°; the change which then
-takes place in the fat (analogous to that caramelising
-sugar) is not dehydration properly so called, although
-the <i>elements</i> of water or hydrogen may be driven off.</p>
-
-<p>Hydration is a combining of water <i>as water</i>, not with
-the elements of water as elements, and the water of most
-hydrates becomes dissociated at a temperature a little
-above the boiling point of water.</p>
-
-<p>My own experiments on gelatin show that hydration
-occurs when crude gelatin is exposed to the action of
-water at or below the boiling point, and that dehydration
-takes place at and above the boiling point, or otherwise
-stated, the boiling point is the critical temperature where
-either hydration or dehydration may occur according to
-the circumstances.</p>
-
-<p>The original membrane <i>immersed in water</i> at 212°
-becomes hydrated, while hydrated gelatin heated to
-212° and exposed to the air is dehydrated. Fat is only
-dissociated as regards its glycerine, and is cooked thereby.</p>
-
-<p>The dietetic value of milk is obvious enough from
-the fact that the young of the human species and all the
-mammalia, whether carnivorous, graminivorous, or herbivorous,
-are entirely fed upon it during the period of their
-most rapid growth. This, however, does not justify the
-practice of describing milk as a model diet and tabulating
-its composition as that which should represent the composition
-of food for adults. The fallacy of this is evident
-from the fact that grass is the model food of the cow,
-and milk that of the calf. Although the grass contains
-all the constituents of the milk, their proportions are
-widely different; besides this the grass contains a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
-great deal of material that does not exist in milk—silica
-for example.</p>
-
-<p>The constituents of milk are first water, constituting
-from 65 to 90 per cent. Nitrogenous matter, consisting
-of the casein above described and a little albumen. Fat,
-sugar, and saline substances. The proportions of these
-vary so greatly in the milk from different animals of the
-same species, and in that from the same animal at
-different times that tabular statements of the percentage
-composition of the milk of different animals are very
-variable. I have five such tables before me, assembled
-for the purpose of supplying material for my readers,
-but they are so contradictory, though all by good
-chemists, that I am at a loss in making a choice. The
-following is Dr. Miller’s statement of the mean result of
-several analyses:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Dr. Miller's results">
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="btlrb">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Woman</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Cow</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Goat</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Ass</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Sheep</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Bitch</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Water</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">88·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">87·4</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">82·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">90·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">85·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">66·3</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Fat</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">1·4</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">14·8</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Sugar and soluble salts</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·9</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">5·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·4</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·2</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·9</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Nitrogenous compounds and insoluble salts</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·9</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">9·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">1·7</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">5·7</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">16·0</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p>The fat exists in the form of minute globules of oil
-suspended in the water. The rising of these to the surface
-forms the cream. When the milk is new it is slightly
-alkaline, and this assists in the admixture of the oil with
-the water, forming an emulsion which may be imitated by
-whipping olive or other similar oil in water. If the water
-is slightly alkaline the milky-looking emulsion is more
-easily obtained than in neutral water, still more so than
-when there is acid in the water.</p>
-
-<p>As milk becomes older lactic acid is formed; at first
-alkalinity is exchanged for neutrality, and afterwards the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
-milk becomes acid. This assists in the separation of the
-cream.</p>
-
-<p>Butter is merely the oil globules aggregated by
-agitation or churning. The condition of the casein has
-been already described. The sugar of milk or ‘lactine’
-is much less sweet than cane sugar.</p>
-
-<p>The cookery of milk is very simple, but by no means
-unimportant. That there is an appreciable difference
-between raw and boiled milk may be proved by taking
-equal quantities of each (the boiled sample having been
-allowed to cool down), adding them to equal quantities
-of the same infusion of coffee, then critically tasting the
-mixtures. The difference is sufficient to have long since
-established the practice among all skilful cooks of scrupulously
-using boiled milk for making <i>café au lait</i>. I
-have tried a similar experiment on tea, and find that in
-this case the cold milk is preferable. Why this should
-be—why boiled milk should be better for coffee and raw
-milk for tea—I cannot tell. If any of my readers have
-not done so already, let them try similar experiments
-with condensed milk, and I have no doubt that the verdict
-of the majority will be that it is passable with coffee,
-but very objectionable in tea. This is milk that has
-been very much cooked.</p>
-
-<p>The chief definable alteration effected by the boiling
-of milk is the coagulation of the small quantity of albumen
-which it contains. This rises as it becomes solidified,
-carrying with it some of the fat globules of the milk, and
-a little of its sugar and saline constituents, thus forming a
-skin-like scum on the surface, which may be lifted with
-a spoon and eaten, as it is perfectly wholesome, and very
-nutritious.</p>
-
-<p>If all the milk that is poured into London every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
-morning were to flow down a single channel, it would
-form a respectable little rivulet. An interesting example
-of the self-adjusting operation of demand and supply is
-presented by the fact that, without any special legislation
-or any dictating official, the quantity required should thus
-flow with so little excess that, in spite of its perishable
-qualities, little or none is spoiled by souring; and yet at
-any moment anybody may buy a pennyworth within two
-or three hundred yards of any part of the great metropolis.
-There is no record of any single day on which the supply
-has failed, or even been sensibly deficient.</p>
-
-<p>This is effected by drawing the supplies from a great
-number of independent sources, which are not likely
-to be simultaneously disturbed in the same direction.
-Coupled with this advantage is a serious danger. It has
-been demonstrated that certain microbia (minute living
-abominations), which are said to disseminate malignant
-diseases, may live in milk, feed upon it, increase and
-multiply therein, and by it be transmitted to human
-beings with possibly serious and even fatal results.</p>
-
-<p>This general germ theory of disease has been recently
-questioned by some men whose conclusions demand
-respect. Dr. B. W. Richardson stoutly opposes it, and in
-the particular instance of the ‘comma-shaped’ bacillus,
-so firmly described as the origin of cholera, the refutation
-is apparently complete.</p>
-
-<p>The alternative hypothesis is that the class of diseases
-in question are caused by a <i>chemical</i> poison, not necessarily
-organised as a plant or animal, and therefore not
-to be found by the microscope.</p>
-
-<p>I speak the more feelingly on this subject, having
-very recently had painful experience of it. One of my
-sons went for a holiday to a farm-house in Shropshire,
-where many happy and health-giving holidays have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
-spent by all the members of my family. At the end of
-two or three weeks he was attacked by scarlet fever, and
-suffered severely. He afterwards learned that the cowboy
-had been ill, and further inquiry proved that his
-illness was scarlet fever, though not acknowledged to be
-such; that he had milked before the scaling of the skin
-that follows the eruption could have been completed,
-and it was therefore most probable that some of the
-scales from his hands fell into the milk. My son drank
-freely of uncooked milk, the other inmates of the farm
-drinking home-brewed beer, and only taking milk in tea
-or coffee hot enough to destroy the vitality of fever
-germs. He alone suffered. This infection was the more
-remarkable, inasmuch as a few months previously he had
-been assisting a medical man in a crowded part of
-London where scarlet fever was prevalent, and had come
-into frequent contact with patients in different stages of
-the disease without suffering infection.</p>
-
-<p>Had the milk from this farm been sent to London in
-the usual manner in cans, and the contents of these particular
-cans mixed with those of the rest received by the
-vendor, the whole of his stock might have been infected.
-As some thousands of farms contribute to the supplying
-of London with milk, the risk of such contact with infected
-hands occurring occasionally in one or another of
-them is very great, and fully justifies me in urgently
-recommending the manager of every household to strictly
-enforce the boiling of every drop of milk that enters the
-house. At the temperature of 212° the vitality of all
-<i>dangerous</i> germs is destroyed, and the boiling point of
-milk is a little above 212°. The temperature of tea or
-coffee, as ordinarily used, may do it, but is not to be
-relied upon. I need only refer generally to the cases of
-wholesale infection that have recently been traced to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
-milk of particular dairies, as the particulars are familiar
-to all who read the newspapers.</p>
-
-<p>The necessity for boiling remains the same, whether
-we accept the germ theory or that of chemical poison, as
-such poison must be of organic origin, and, like other
-similar organic compounds, subject to dissociation or
-other alteration when heated to the boiling point of
-water.</p>
-
-<p>It is an open question whether butter may or may
-not act as a dangerous carrier of such germs; whether
-they rise with the cream, survive the churning, and
-flourish among the fat. The subject is of vital importance,
-and yet, in spite of the research fund of the Royal
-Society, the British Association, &amp;c., we have no data
-upon which to base even an approximately sound conclusion.</p>
-
-<p>We may theorise, of course; we may suppose that
-the bacteria, bacilli, &amp;c., which we see under the microscope
-to be continually wriggling about or driving along
-are doing so in order to obtain fresh food from the surrounding
-liquid, and therefore that if imprisoned in
-butter they would languish and die. We may point to
-the analogies of ferment germs which demand nitrogenous
-matter, and therefore suppose that the pestiferous
-wanderers cannot live upon a mere hydro-carbon like
-butter. On the other hand, we know that the germs of
-such things can remain dormant under conditions that
-are fatal to their parents, and develop forthwith when
-released and brought into new surroundings. These
-speculations are interesting enough, but in such a matter
-of life and death to ourselves and our children we require
-positive facts—direct microscopic or chemical evidence.</p>
-
-<p>In the meantime the doubt is highly favourable to
-‘bosch.’ To illustrate this, let us suppose the case of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
-cow grazing on a sewage-farm, manured from a district
-on which enteric fever has existed. The cow lies down,
-and its teats are soiled with liquid containing the chemical
-poison or the germs which are so fearfully malignant
-when taken internally. In the course of milking a
-thousandth part of a grain of the infected matter containing
-a few hundred germs enters the milk, and these
-germs increase and multiply. The cream that rises carries
-some of them with it, and they are thus in the
-butter, either dead or alive—we know not which, but
-have to accept the risk.</p>
-
-<p>Now, take the case of ‘bosch.’ The cow is slaughtered.
-The waste fat—that before the days of palm oil and
-vaseline was sold for lubricating machinery—is skilfully
-prepared, made up into 2 lb. rolls, delicately wrapped in
-special muslin, or prettily moulded and fitted into ‘Normandy’
-baskets. What is the risk in eating this?</p>
-
-<p>None at all provided always the ‘bosch’ is not adulterated
-with cream-butter. The special disease germs do
-not survive the chemistry of digestion, do not pass
-through the glandular tissues of the follicles that secrete
-the living fat, and therefore, even though the cow should
-have fed on sewage grass, moistened with infected sewage
-water, its fat would not be poisoned.</p>
-
-<p>What we require in connection with this is commercial
-honesty: that the thousands of tons of ‘bosch’ now
-annually made shall be sold as ‘bosch,’ or, if preferred, as
-‘oleomargarine,’ or ‘butterine,’ or any other name that
-shall tell the truth. In order to render such commercial
-honesty possible to shopkeepers, more intelligence is
-demanded among their customers. A dealer, on whom
-I can rely, told me lately that if he offered the ‘bosch’ or
-‘butterine’ to his other customers as he was then offering
-it to me, at 8½<i>d.</i> per lb. in 24-lb. box, or 9<i>d.</i> retail, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
-could not possibly sell it, and his reputation would be
-injured by admitting that he kept it; but that the same
-people who would be disgusted with it at 9<i>d.</i> will buy it
-freely at double the price as prime Devonshire fresh
-butter; and, he added, significantly, ‘I cannot afford to
-lose my business and be ruined because my customers
-are fools.’ To pastrycooks and others in business it is
-sold honestly enough for what it is, and used instead of
-butter.</p>
-
-<p>In the ‘Journal of the Chemical Society’ for January
-1844, page 92, is an account of experiments made by
-A. Mayer in order to determine the comparative nutritive
-value of ‘bosch’ and cream-butter. They were made on
-a man and a boy. The result was that on an average a
-little above 1½ per cent. less of the ‘bosch’ was absorbed
-into the system than of the cream-butter. This is a very
-trifling difference.</p>
-
-<p>Before leaving the subject of animal food I may say
-a few words on the latest, and perhaps the greatest,
-triumph of science in reference to food supply—<i>i.e.</i> the
-successful solution of the great problem of preserving
-fresh meat for an almost indefinite length of time. It
-has long been known that meat which is frozen remains
-fresh. The Aberdeen whalers were in the habit of
-feasting their friends on returning home on joints that
-were taken out fresh from Aberdeen, and kept frozen
-during a long Arctic voyage. In Norway game is shot
-at the end of autumn, and kept in a frozen state for
-consumption during the whole winter and far into the
-spring.</p>
-
-<p>The early attempts to apply the freezing process for
-the carriage of fresh meat from South America and
-Australia by using ice, or freezing mixtures of ice and
-salt, failed, but now all the difficulties are overcome by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
-simple application of the great principle of the conservation
-of energy, whereby the burning of coal may be made
-to produce a degree of cold proportionate to the amount
-of heat it gives out in burning.</p>
-
-<p>Carcasses of sheep are thereby frozen to stony hardness
-immediately they are slaughtered in New Zealand
-and Australia, then packed in close refrigerated cars,
-carried to the ship, and there stowed in chambers refrigerated
-by the same means, and thus brought to England
-in the same state of stony hardness as that originally
-produced. I dined to-day on one of the legs of a sheep
-that I bought a week ago, and which was grazing at the
-Antipodes three months before. I prefer it to any
-English mutton ordinarily obtainable.</p>
-
-<p>The grounds of this preference will be understood
-when I explain that English farmers, who manufacture
-mutton as a primary product, kill their sheep as soon as
-they are full grown, when a year old or less. They
-cannot afford to feed a sheep for two years longer merely
-to improve its flavour without adding to its weight.
-Country gentlemen, who do not care for expense, occasionally
-regale their friends on a haunch or saddle of
-three-year-old mutton, as a rare and costly luxury.</p>
-
-<p>The Antipodean graziers are wool growers. Until
-lately mutton was merely used as manure, and even now
-it is but a secondary product. The wool crop improves
-year by year until the sheep is three or four years old;
-therefore it is not slaughtered until this age is attained;
-and thus the sheep sent to England are similar to those
-of the country squire, and such as the English farmer
-could not send to market under eighteenpence per pound.</p>
-
-<p>There is, however, one drawback; but I have tested
-it thoroughly (having supplied my own table during the
-last six months with no other mutton than that from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
-New Zealand), and find it so trifling as to be imperceptible
-unless critically looked for. It is simply
-that, in thawing, a small quantity of the juice of the
-meat oozes out. This is more than compensated by the
-superior richness and fulness of flavour of the meat itself,
-which is much darker in colour than young mutton.
-Legs of frozen mutton should be hung with the thick
-cut part upwards. With this precaution the loss of juice
-is but nominal. If the frozen sheep is not cut up until
-completely thawed and required for cooking there is no
-loss.</p>
-
-<p>Another successful method of meat-preserving has
-been more lately introduced. It is based upon the remarkable
-antiseptic properties of boric acid (or boracic
-acid as it is sometimes named); this is the characteristic
-constituent of borax, and, like the fatty acids above
-described, has no sour flavour.</p>
-
-<p>The speciality of this process, invented by Mr. Jones,
-a Gloucestershire surgeon, is the method by which a
-small quantity of the antiseptic is made to permeate the
-whole of the carcass.</p>
-
-<p>The animal is rendered insensible, either by a stunning
-blow or by an anæsthetic, with the heart still beating.
-A vein—usually the jugular—is opened, and a
-small quantity of blood let out. Then a corresponding
-quantity of a solution of boric acid, raised to blood heat,
-is made to flow into the vein from a vessel raised to a
-suitable height above it. The action of the heart carries
-this through all the capillary vessels into every part of
-the body of the animal. The completeness of this diffusion
-may be understood by reflecting on the fact that we
-cannot puncture any part of the body with the point of
-a needle without drawing blood from some of these
-vessels.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>After the completion of this circulation the animal is
-bled to death in the usual manner. From three to four
-ounces of boric acid is sufficient for a sheep of average
-weight, and much of this comes away with the final
-bleeding. On April 2, 1884, I made a hearty meal on
-the roasted, boiled, and stewed flesh of a sheep that was
-killed on February 8, the carcass hanging in the meantime
-in the basement of the Society of Arts. It was
-perfectly fresh, and without any perceptible flavour of
-the boric acid: very tender, and full-flavoured as fresh
-meat. On July 19, 1884, I purchased a haunch of the
-prepared mutton, and hung it in an ill-constructed larder
-during the excessively hot weather that followed. On
-August 10, after twenty-two days of this severe ordeal,
-it was still in good condition. The 11th and 12th were
-two of the hottest days of the present century in England.
-On the 13th I examined the haunch very carefully,
-and detected symptoms of giving way. It had become
-softer, and was pervaded throughout with a slight malodour.
-On the 14th it became worse, and then I had
-it roasted. It was decidedly gamey; the fat, or rather
-the membranous junction between fat and lean, and the
-membranous sheaths of the muscles had succumbed, but
-the substance of the muscles, the firm lean parts of the
-meat, were quite eatable, and eaten by myself and other
-members of my family. There was no taste of boric
-acid, and the meat was unusually tender.</p>
-
-<p>The curious element of this process is the very small
-quantity of the boric acid which does the work so effectually.</p>
-
-<p>For some time past most of the milk that is supplied
-to London has been similarly treated by adding borax
-or a preparation chiefly composed of borax, and named
-‘glacialine.’ This suppresses the incipient lactic fermentation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
-which, in the course of a few hours, otherwise
-produces the souring of milk, and thus prepared the
-milk remains for a long time unaltered.</p>
-
-<p>The small quantity of borax that we thus imbibe
-with our tea, coffee, &amp;c., is quite harmless. M. de Cyon,
-who has studied this subject experimentally, affirms
-that it is very beneficial.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a><br />
-
-<small>THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">My</span> readers will remember that I referred to Haller’s
-statement, ‘Dimidium corporis humani gluten est,’ which
-applies to animals generally, viz. that half of their substance
-is gelatin, or that which by cookery becomes
-gelatin. This abundance depends upon the fact that
-the walls of the cells and the frame-work of the tissues
-are composed of this material.</p>
-
-<p>In the vegetable structure we encounter a close
-analogy to this. Cellular structure is still more clearly
-defined than in the animal, as may be easily seen with
-the help of a very moderate microscopic power. Pluck
-one of the fibrils that you see shooting down into the
-water of hyacinth glasses, or, failing one of these, any
-other succulent rootlet. Crush it between two pieces of
-glass and examine. At the end there is a loose spongy
-mass of rounded cells; these merge into oblong rectangular
-cells surrounding a central axis of spiral tube or
-tubes or greatly elongated cell structure. Take a thin
-slice of stem, or leaf, or flower, or bark, or pith, examine
-in like manner, and cellular structure of some kind will
-display itself, clearly demonstrating that whatever may
-be the contents of these round, oval, hexagonal, oblong,
-or otherwise regular or irregular cells, we cannot cook
-and eat any whole vegetable, or slice of vegetable,
-without encountering a large quantity of cell wall. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
-constitutes far more than half of the substance of most
-vegetables, and therefore demands prominent consideration.</p>
-
-<p>It exists in many forms with widely differing physical
-properties, but with very little variation in chemical composition,
-so little that in many chemical treatises cellular
-tissue, cellulose, lignin, and woody fibre are treated as
-chemically synonymous. Thus, Miller says: ‘Cellular
-tissue forms the groundwork of every plant, and when
-obtained in a pure state, its composition is the same,
-whatever may have been the nature of the plants which
-furnished it, though it may vary greatly in appearance
-and physical characters; thus, it is loose and spongy in
-the succulent shoots of germinating seeds, and in the
-roots of plants, such as the turnip and the potato; it is
-porous and elastic in the pith of the rush and the elder;
-it is flexible and tenacious in the fibres of hemp and
-flax; it is compact in the branches and wood of growing
-trees; and becomes very hard and dense in the shells of
-the filbert, the peach, the cocoanut, and the <i>Phytelephas</i>
-or vegetable ivory.’</p>
-
-<p>Its composition in all these cases is that of a <i>carbo-hydrate</i>,
-<i>i.e.</i> carbon united with the elements of water,
-which, by the way, should not be confounded with a <i>hydro-carbon</i>,
-or compound of carbon with hydrogen simply,
-such as petroleum, fats, essential oils, and resins.</p>
-
-<p>There is, however, some little chemical difference
-between wooden tissue and the pure cellulose that we
-have in finely carded cotton, in linen, and pure paper pulp,
-such as is used in making the filtering paper for chemical
-laboratories, which burns without leaving a weighable
-quantity of ash. The woody forms of cellular tissue
-owe their characteristic properties to an incrustration
-of <i>lignin</i>, which is often described as synonymous with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
-cellulose, but is not so. It is composed of carbon,
-oxygen, and hydrogen, like cellulose, but the hydrogen
-is in excess of the proportion required to form water by
-combination with the oxygen.</p>
-
-<p>My own view of the composition of this incrustation
-(lignin properly is called) is that it consists of a carbo-hydrate
-united with a hydro-carbon, the latter having
-a resinous character; but whether the hydro-carbon is
-chemically combined with the carbo-hydrate (the resin
-with the cellulose), or whether the resin only mechanically
-envelopes and indurates the cellulose I will not
-venture to decide, though I incline to the latter theory.</p>
-
-<p>As we shall presently see, this view of the constitution
-of the indurated forms of cellular tissue has an important
-practical bearing upon my present subject. To
-indicate this in advance, I will put it grossly as opening
-the question of whether a very great refinement of
-scientific cookery may or may not enable us to convert
-nutshells, wood shavings, and sawdust into wholesome
-and digestible food. I have no doubt whatever that
-it may.</p>
-
-<p>It could be done at once if the incrusting resinous
-matter were removed; for pure cellulose in the form of
-cotton and linen rags has been converted into sugar
-artificially in the laboratory of the chemist; and in the
-ripening of fruits such conversion is effected on a large
-scale in the laboratory of nature. A Jersey pear, for
-example, when full grown in autumn is little better than
-a lump of acidulated wood. Left hanging on the leafless
-tree, or gathered and carefully stored for two or three
-months, it becomes by nature’s own unaided cookery
-the most delicious and delicate pulp that can be tasted
-or imagined.</p>
-
-<p>Certain animals have a remarkable power of digesting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
-ligneous tissue. The beaver is an example of this. The
-whole of its stomach, and more especially that secondary
-stomach the <i>cæcum</i>, is often found crammed or plugged
-with fragments of wood and bark. I have opened the
-crops of several Norwegian ptarmigans, and found them
-filled with no other food than the needles of pines, upon
-which they evidently feed during the winter. The birds,
-when cooked, were scarcely eatable on account of the
-strong resinous flavour of their flesh.</p>
-
-<p>If my theory of the constitution of such woody tissues
-is correct, these animals only require the power of
-secreting some solvent for the resin, on the removal of
-which their food would consist of the same material as
-the tissue of the succulent stems and leaves eaten by
-ordinary herbivorous animals. The resinous flavour of
-the flesh of the ptarmigan indicates such solution of resin.</p>
-
-<p>I may here, by the way, correct the commonly accepted
-version of a popular story. We are told that
-when Marie Antoinette was informed of a famine in the
-neighbourhood of the Tyrol, and of the starving of
-some of the peasants there, she replied, ‘I would rather
-eat pie-crust’ (some of the story-tellers say ‘pastry’)
-‘than starve.’ Thereupon the courtiers giggled at the
-ignorance of the pampered princess, who could suppose
-that starving peasants had such an alternative food as
-pastry. The ignorance, however, was all on the side
-of the courtiers and those who repeat the story in its
-ordinary form. The princess was the only person in
-the Court who really understood the habits of the
-peasants of the particular district in question. They
-cook their meat, chiefly young veal, by rolling it in a
-kind of dough made of sawdust mixed with as little
-coarse flour as will hold it together; then place this in
-an oven or in wood embers until the dough is hardened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
-to a tough crust, and the meat is raised throughout
-to the cooking point. Marie Antoinette said that she
-would rather eat <i>croûtons</i> than starve, knowing that these
-<i>croûtons</i>, or meat pie-crusts, are given to the pigs; that
-the pigs digest them, and are nourished by them in spite
-of the wood sawdust.</p>
-
-<p>When on the subject of cooking animal food, I had
-to define the cooking temperature as determined by that
-at which albumen coagulates, and to point out the mischief
-arising from exceeding that temperature and thus
-rendering the albumen horny and indigestible.</p>
-
-<p>No such precautions are demanded in the boiling of
-vegetables. The work to be done in cooking a cabbage
-or a turnip, for example, is to soften the cellular tissue
-by the action of hot water; there is nothing to avoid in
-the direction of over-heating. Even if the water could
-be raised above 212°, the vegetable would be rather
-improved than injured thereby.</p>
-
-<p>The question that now naturally arises is whether
-modern science can show us that anything more can be
-done in the preparation of vegetable tissue than the
-mere softening in boiling water. I have already said
-that the practice of using the digestive apparatus of
-sheep, oxen, &amp;c., for the preparation of our food is merely
-a transitory barbarism, to be ultimately superseded by
-scientific cookery, by preparing vegetables in such a
-manner that they shall be as easily digested as the prepared
-grass we call beef and mutton. I do not mean by
-this that the vegetable we should use shall be grass
-itself, or that grass should be one of the vegetables. We
-must, for our requirement, select vegetables that contain
-as much nutriment in a given bulk as our present mixed
-diet, but in doing so we encounter the serious difficulty
-of finding that the readily soluble cell wall or main bulk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
-of animal food—the gelatin—is replaced in the vegetable
-by the cellulose, or woody fibre, which is not only
-more difficult of solution, but is not nitrogenous, is only
-a compound of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen.</p>
-
-<p>Next to the enveloping tissue, the most abundant
-constituent of the vegetables we use as food is starch.
-Laundry associations may render the Latin name ‘<i>fecula</i>’,
-or ‘<i>farina</i>’, more agreeable when applied to food. We
-feed very largely on starch, and take it in a multitude
-of forms. Excluding water, it constitutes above three-fourths
-of our ‘staff of life,’ a still larger proportion of
-rice, which is the staff of Oriental life, and nearly the
-whole of arrowroot, sago, and tapioca, which may be
-described as composed of starch and water. Peas, beans,
-and every kind of seed and grain contain it in preponderating
-proportions; potatoes the same, and even those
-vegetables which we eat raw, all contain within their
-cells considerable quantities of starch.</p>
-
-<p>Take a small piece of dough, made in the usual
-manner by moistening wheat flour, put it in a piece of
-muslin and work it with the fingers under water. The
-water becomes milky, and the milkiness is seen to be
-produced by minute granules that sink to the bottom
-when the agitation of the water ceases. These are starch
-granules. They may be obtained by similar treatment
-of other kinds of flour. Viewed under a microscope
-they are seen to be ovoid particles with peculiar concentric
-markings that I must not tarry to describe. The
-form and size of these granules vary according to the
-plant from which they are derived, but the chemical
-composition is in all cases the same, excepting, perhaps,
-that the amount of water associated with the actual
-starch varies, producing some small differences of density
-or other physical variations.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Arrowroot may be taken as an example. To the
-chemist arrowroot is starch in as pure a form as can be
-found in nature, and he applies this description to all
-kinds of arrowroot; but, looking at the ‘price current’
-in the ‘Grocer’ of the current week, November 22, 1884,
-I find under the first item, which is ‘Arrowroot,’ the
-following: ‘Bermuda, per lb. 10<i>d.</i> to 1<i>s.</i> 5<i>d.;</i>’ ‘St. Vincent
-and Natal, 1¼<i>d.</i> to 7¼<i>d.;</i>’ and this is a fair example
-of the usual differences of price of this commodity. Five
-farthings to 53 farthings is a wide range, and should
-express a wide difference of quality. I have on several
-occasions, at long intervals apart, obtained samples of
-the highest-priced Bermuda, and even ‘Missionary’
-arrowroot, supposed to be perfect, brought home by immaculate
-missionaries themselves, and therefore worth
-3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> per lb., and have compared this with the ‘St.
-Vincent and Natal.’ I find that the only difference is
-that on boiling in a given quantity of water the Bermuda
-produces a somewhat stiffer jelly, the which additional
-tenacity is easily obtainable by using a little more of the
-1½<i>d.</i> (or say 3<i>d.</i> to allow a profit on retailing) to the
-same quantity of water. Both are starch, and starch is
-neither more nor less than starch, unless it be that the
-best Bermuda, sold at 3<i>s.</i> per lb., is starch <i>plus</i> humbug.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p>
-
-<p>The ultimate chemical composition of starch is the
-same as that of cellulose—carbon and the elements of
-water, and in the same proportions; but the difference
-of chemical and physical properties indicates some difference
-in the arrangement of these elements. It would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
-be quite out of place here to discuss the theories of molecular
-constitution which such differences have suggested,
-especially as they are all rather cloudy. The percentage
-is—carbon 44·4, oxygen 49·4, and hydrogen 6·2. The
-difference between starch and cellulose that most closely
-affects my present subject, that of digestibility, is considerable.
-The ordinary food-forms of starch, such as
-arrowroot, tapioca, rice, &amp;c., are among the most easily
-digestible kinds of food, while cellulose is peculiarly difficult
-of digestion; in its crude and compact forms it is
-quite indigestible by human digestive apparatus.</p>
-
-<p>Neither of them are capable of sustaining life alone;
-they contain none of the nitrogenous material required
-for building up muscle, nerve, and other animal tissue.
-They may be converted into fat, and may supply fuel
-for maintaining animal heat, and may possibly supply
-some of the energies demanded for organic work.</p>
-
-<p>Serious consequences have resulted from ignorance
-of this. The popular notion that anything which thickens
-to a jelly when cooked must be proportionally nutritious
-is very fallacious, and many a victim has died of starvation
-by the reliance of nurses on this theory, and consequently
-feeding an emaciated invalid on mere starch
-in the form of arrowroot, &amp;c. The selling of a fancy
-variety at ten times its proper value has greatly aided
-this delusion, so many believing that whatever is dear
-must be good. I remember when oysters were retailed
-in London at fourpence per dozen. They were not then
-supposed to be exceptionally nutritious, were not prescribed
-by fashionable physicians to invalids, as they
-have been lately, since their price has risen to threepence
-each.</p>
-
-<p>More than half a century has elapsed since Dr. Beaumont
-published the results of his experiments on Alexis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
-St. Martin. These showed that fresh raw oysters required
-2 hours 55 minutes, and stewed fresh oysters
-3½ hours for digestion, against 1 hour for boiled tripe
-and 3 hours for roast or boiled beef or mutton. Oysters
-contain more than 80 per cent. of water, and are, weight
-for weight, far less nutritious than beef or mutton; less
-than the easily digestible tripe. But tripe is cheap and
-vulgar, therefore kitchenmaids, footmen, and fashionable
-physicians despise it.</p>
-
-<p>The change which takes place in the cookery of
-starch may, I think, be described as simple hydration, or
-union with water; not that definite chemical combination
-which may be expressed in terms of chemical equivalents,
-but a sort of hydration of which we have so
-many other examples, where something unites with water
-in any quantity, the union being accompanied with an
-evolution of some amount of heat. Striking illustrations
-of this are presented on placing a piece of hydrated
-soda or potash in water, or mixing sulphuric acid, already
-combined chemically with an equivalent of water, with
-more water. Here we have aqueous adhesion and considerable
-evolution of heat, without the definitive quantitative
-chemical combination demanded by atomic
-theories.</p>
-
-<p>In the experiment above described for separating the
-starch from wheat flour, the starch thus liberated sinks to
-the bottom of the water and remains there undissolved.
-The same occurs if arrowroot be thrown into water.
-This insolubility is not entirely due to the intervention
-of the envelope of the granules, as may be shown by
-crushing the granules, <i>while dry</i>, and then dropping them
-into water. Such a mixture of starch and cold water
-remains unchanged for a long time—Miller says ‘an
-indefinite time.’</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>When heated to a little above 140° Fahr., an absorption
-of water takes place through the enveloping membrane
-of the granules, they swell considerably, and the
-mixture becomes pasty or viscous. If this paste be largely
-diluted with water, the swollen granules still remain as
-separate bodies and slowly sink, though a considerable
-exosmosis of the true starch has occurred, as shown by
-the thickening of the water. I suppose that in their
-original state the enveloping membrane is much folded,
-and that these folds form the curious marking of concentric
-rings which constitutes the characteristic microscopic
-structure of starch granules, and that when cooked,
-at the temperature named, the very delicate membrane
-becomes fully distended by the increased bulk of the
-hydrated and diluted starch, and thus the rings disappear.</p>
-
-<p>A very little mechanical violence, mere stirring, now
-breaks up these distended granules, and we obtain the
-starch paste so well known to the laundress, and to all
-who have seen cooked arrowroot. If this paste be dried
-by evaporation it does not regain its former insolubility,
-but readily dissolves in hot or cold water. This is what I
-should describe as cooked starch.</p>
-
-<p>If the heat is now raised from 140° to the boiling
-point, and the boiling continued, the gelatinous mass
-becomes thicker and thicker; and if there are more than
-fifty parts of water to one of starch a separation takes
-place, the starch settling down with its fifty parts of
-water, the excess of water standing above it. Carefully
-dried starch may be heated to above 300° without
-becoming soluble, but at 400° a remarkable change commences.
-The same occurs to ordinary commercial starch
-at 320°, the difference evidently depending on the water
-retained by it. If the heat is continued a little beyond
-this it is converted into <i>dextrin</i>, otherwise named ‘British<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
-gum,’ ‘gommeline,’ ‘starch gum,’ and ‘Alsace gum,’
-from its resemblance to gum-arabic, for which it is now
-very extensively substituted. Solutions of this in bottles
-are sold in the stationers’ shops under various names for
-desk uses.</p>
-
-<p>The remarkable feature of this conversion of starch
-into dextrin is, that it is accompanied by no change of
-chemical composition. Starch is composed of six equivalents
-of carbon, ten of hydrogen, and five of oxygen—C<sub>6</sub>H<sub>10</sub>O<sub>5</sub>,
-<i>i.e.</i> six of carbon and five of water or its elements.
-Dextrin has exactly the same composition; so
-also has gum-arabic when purified. But their properties
-differ considerably. Starch, as everybody knows, when
-dried is white and opaque and pulverent; dextrin,
-similarly dried, is transparent and brittle; gum-arabic
-the same. If a piece of starch, or a solution of starch,
-is touched by a solution of iodine, it becomes blue
-almost to blackness, if the solution is strong; no such
-change occurs when the iodine solution is added to dextrin
-or gum. A solution of dextrin when mixed with
-potash changes to a rich blue colour when a little sulphate
-of copper is added; no such effect is produced by
-gum-arabic, and thus we have an easy test for distinguishing
-between true and fictitious gum-arabic.</p>
-
-<p>The technical name for describing this persistence of
-composition with changes of properties is <i>isomerism</i>, and
-bodies thus related are said to be <i>isomeric</i> with each
-other. Another distinguishing characteristic of dextrin
-is that it produces a right-handed rotation on a ray of
-polarised light, hence its name, from <i>dexter</i>, the right.</p>
-
-<p>The conversion of starch into dextrin is a very
-important element of the subject of vegetable cooking,
-inasmuch as starch food cannot be assimilated until this
-conversion has taken place, either before or after we eat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
-it. I will therefore describe other methods by which
-this change may be effected.</p>
-
-<p>If starch be boiled in a dilute solution of almost any
-acid, it is converted into dextrin. A solution containing
-less than one per cent. of sulphuric or nitric acid is sufficiently
-strong for this purpose. One method of commercial
-manufacture (Payen’s) is to moisten 10 parts of
-starch with 3 of water, containing <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>150</sub></small>th of its weight of
-nitric acid, spreading the paste upon shelves, allowing it
-to dry in the air, and then heating it for an hour-and-a-half
-at about 240° Fahr.</p>
-
-<p>But the most remarkable and interesting agent in
-effecting this conversion is <i>diastase</i>. It is one of those
-mysterious compounds which have received the general
-name of ‘ferments.’ They are disturbers of chemical
-peace, molecular agitators that initiate chemical revolutions,
-which may be beneficent or very mischievous. The
-morbific matter of contagious diseases, the venom of
-snake-bite, and a multitude of other poisons, are ferments.
-Yeast is a familiar example of a ferment, and
-one that is the best understood.</p>
-
-<p>I must not be tempted into a dissertation on this
-subject, but may merely remark that modern research
-indicates that many of these ferments are microscopic
-creatures, linking the vegetable with the animal world;
-they may be described as living things, seeing that they
-grow from germs and generate other germs that produce
-their like. Where this is proven, we can understand
-how a minute germ may, by falling upon suitable
-nourishment, increase and multiply, and thus effect upon
-large quantities of matter the chemical revolution above
-named.</p>
-
-<p>I have already described the action of rennet upon
-milk, and the very small quantity which produces coagulation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
-There appears to be no intercession of living
-microbia in this case, nor have any been yet demonstrated
-to constitute the ferment of diastase, though they
-may be suspected. Be this as it may, diastase is a most
-beneficent ferment. It communicates to the infant plant
-its first breath of active life, and operates in the very
-first stage of animal digestion.</p>
-
-<p>In a grain of wheat, for example, the embryo is surrounded
-with its first food. While the seed remains dry
-above ground there is no assimilation of the insoluble
-starch or gluten, no growth, nor other sign of life. But
-when the seed is moistened and warmed, the starch is
-changed to dextrin by the action of diastase, and the
-dextrin is further converted into sugar. The food of the
-germ thus gradually rendered soluble penetrates its
-tissues; it is thereby fed and grows, unfolds its first leaf
-upwards, throws downward its first rootlet, still feeding
-on the converted starch until it has developed the organs
-by which it can feed on the carbonic acid of the air and
-the soluble minerals of the soil. But for the original
-insolubility of the starch it would be washed away into
-the soil, and wasted ere the germ could absorb it.</p>
-
-<p>The maltster, by artificial heat and moisture, hastens
-this formation of dextrin and sugar; then by a roasting
-heat kills the baby plant just as it is breaking through
-the seed-sheath. Blue Ribbon orators miss a point in
-failing to notice this. It would be quite in their line to
-denounce with scathing eloquence such heartless infanticide.</p>
-
-<p>Diastase may be obtained by simply grinding freshly
-germinated barley or malt, moistening it with half its
-weight of warm water, allowing it to stand, and then
-pressing out the liquid. One part of diastase is sufficient
-to convert 2,000 parts of starch into dextrin, and from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
-dextrin to sugar, if the action is continued. The most
-favourable temperature for this is 140° Fahr. The action
-ceases if the temperature be raised to the boiling point.</p>
-
-<p>The starch which we take so abundantly as food
-appears to have no more food-value to us than to the
-vegetable germ until the conversion into dextrin or sugar
-is effected. From what I have already stated concerning
-the action of heat upon starch, it is evident that this
-conversion is more or less effected in some processes of
-cookery. In the baking of bread an incipient conversion
-probably occurs throughout the loaf, while in the crust
-it is carried so far as to completely change most of the
-starch into dextrin, and some into sugar. Those of us
-who can remember our bread-and-milk may not have
-forgotten the gummy character of the crust when soaked.
-This may be felt by simply moistening a piece of crust
-in hot water and rubbing it between the fingers. A
-certain degree of sweetness may also be detected, though
-disguised by the bitterness of the caramel, which is also
-there.</p>
-
-<p>The final conversion of starch food into dextrin and
-sugar is effected in the course of digestion, especially, as
-already stated, in the first stage—that of insalivation.
-Saliva contains a kind of diastase, which has received
-the name of <i>salivary diastase</i> and <i>mucin</i>. It does not
-appear to be exactly the same substance as vegetable
-diastase, though its action is similar. It is most abundantly
-secreted by herbivorous animals, especially by
-ruminating animals. Its comparative deficiency in carnivorous
-animals is shown by the fact that if vegetable
-matter is mixed with their food, starch passes through
-them unaltered.</p>
-
-<p>Some time is required for the conversion of the starch
-by this animal diastase, and in some animals there is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
-special laboratory or kitchen for effecting this preliminary
-cookery of vegetable food. Ruminating animals have a
-special stomach cavity for this purpose in which the
-food, after mastication, is held for some time and kept
-warm before passing into the cavity which secretes the
-gastric juice. The crop of grain-eating birds appears to
-perform a similar function. It is there mixed with a
-secretion corresponding to saliva, and is thus partially
-malted—in this case <i>before</i> mastication in the gizzard.</p>
-
-<p>At a later stage of digestion, the starch that has
-escaped conversion by the saliva is again subjected to
-the action of animal diastase contained in the pancreatic
-juice, which is very similar to saliva.</p>
-
-<p>It is a fair inference from these facts that creatures
-like ourselves, who are not provided with a crop or
-compound stomach, and manifestly secrete less saliva
-than horses or other grain-munching animals, require
-some preliminary assistance when we adopt graminivorous
-habits; and one part of the business of cookery
-is to supply such preliminary treatment to the oats,
-barley, wheat, maize, peas, beans, &amp;c., which we cultivate
-and use for food.</p>
-
-<p>I may add that the stomach itself appears to do very
-little, possibly nothing, towards the digestion of starch.
-The primary conversion into dextrin is effected by the
-saliva, and the subsequent digestion of this takes place
-in the duodenum and following portions of the intestinal
-canal. This applies equally to the less easily digested
-material of the vegetable tissue described in the preceding
-chapter. Hence the greater length of the intestinal
-canal in herbivorous animals as compared with the
-carnivora.</p>
-
-<p>Having described the changes effected by heat upon
-starch, and referred to its further conversion into dextrin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
-and sugar, I will now take some practical examples of
-the cookery of starch foods, beginning with those which
-are composed of pure, or nearly pure, starch.</p>
-
-<p>When arrowroot is merely stirred in cold water, it
-sinks to the bottom undissolved and unaltered. When
-cooked in the usual manner to form the well-known
-mucilaginous or jelly-like food, the change is a simple case
-of the swelling and breaking up of the granules already
-described as occurring in water at the temperature of
-140° Fahr. There appears to be no reason for limiting
-the temperature, as the same action takes place from
-140° upwards to the boiling point of water.</p>
-
-<p>I may here mention a peculiarity of another form of
-nearly pure starch food, viz. tapioca, which is obtained
-by pulping and washing out the starch granules of the
-root of the <i>Manihot</i>, then heating the washed starch in
-pans, and stirring it while hot with iron or wooden
-paddles. This cooks and breaks up the granules, and
-agglutinates the starch into nodules which, as Mr. James
-Collins explains (‘Journal of Society of Arts,’ March 14,
-1884), are thereby coated with dextrin, to which gummy
-coating some of the peculiarities of tapioca pudding are
-attributable. It is a curious fact that this <i>Manihot</i> root,
-from which our harmless tapioca is obtained, is terribly
-poisonous. The plant is one of the large family of
-nauseous spurgeworts (<i>Euphorbiaceæ</i>). The poison resides
-in the milky juice surrounding the starch granules,
-but being both soluble in water and volatile, most of it
-is washed away in separating the starch granules, and
-any that remains after washing is driven off by the heating
-and stirring, which has to reach 240° in order to
-effect the changes above described.</p>
-
-<p>I suspect that the difference between the forms of
-tapioca and arrowroot has arisen from the necessity of
-thus driving off the last traces of the poison, with which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
-the aboriginal manufacturers are so well acquainted as
-to combine the industry of poisoning their arrows with
-that of extracting the starch-food from the same root.
-No certificate from the public analyst is demanded to
-establish the absence of the poison from any given
-sample of tapioca, as the juice of the Manihot root,
-like that of other spurges, is unmistakably acrid and
-nauseous.</p>
-
-<p>Sago, which is a starch obtained from the pith of the
-stem of the sago-palm and other plants, is prepared in
-grains like tapioca, with similar results. Both sago and
-tapioca contain a little gluten, and therefore have more
-food-value than arrowroot.</p>
-
-<p>The most familiar of our starch foods is the potato.
-I place it among the starch foods as next to water;
-starch is its prevailing constituent, as the following
-statement of average compositions will show: Water,
-75 per cent.; starch, 18·8; nitrogenous materials, 2;
-sugar, 3; fat, 0·2; salts, 1. The salts vary considerably
-with the kind and age of the potato, from 0·8 to 1·3 in
-full-grown. Young potatoes contain more. In boiling
-potatoes, the change effected appears to be simply a
-breaking up or bursting of the starch granules, and a
-conversion of the nitrogenous gluten into a more soluble
-form, probably by a certain degree of hydration. As we
-all know, there are great differences among potatoes;
-some are waxy, others floury; and these, again, vary
-according to the manner and degree of cooking. I
-cannot find any published account of the chemistry of
-these differences, and must, therefore, endeavour to
-explain them in my own way.</p>
-
-<p>As an experiment, take two potatoes of the floury
-kind; boil or steam them together until they are just
-softened throughout, or, as we say, ‘well done.’ Now
-leave one of them in the saucepan or steamer, and very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
-much over-cook it. Its floury character will have disappeared,
-it will have become soft and gummy. The
-reader can explain this by simply remembering what
-has already been explained concerning the formation of
-dextrin. It is due to the conversion of some of the
-starch into dextrin. My explanation of the difference
-between the waxy and floury potato is that the latter
-is so constituted that all the starch granules may be
-disintegrated by heat in the manner already described
-before any considerable proportion of the starch is converted
-into dextrin, while the starch of the waxy
-potatoes for some reason, probably a larger supply of
-diastase, is so much more readily convertible into dextrin,
-that a considerable proportion becomes gummy
-before the whole of the granules are broken up, <i>i.e.</i>
-before the potato is cooked or softened throughout.</p>
-
-<p>I must here throw myself into the great controversy
-of jackets or no jackets. Should potatoes be peeled
-before cooking, or should they be boiled in their jackets?
-I say most decidedly in jackets, and will state my reasons.
-From 53 to 56 per cent. of the above-stated saline constituents
-of the potato is potash, and potash is an
-important constituent of blood—so important that in
-Norway, where scurvy once prevailed very seriously, it
-has been banished since the introduction of the potato,
-and, according to Lang and other good authorities, this
-is owing to the use of potatoes by a people who
-formerly were insufficiently supplied with saline vegetable
-food.</p>
-
-<p>Potash salts are freely soluble in water, and I find
-that the water in which potatoes have been boiled contains
-potash, as may be proved by boiling it down to
-concentrate, then filtering and adding the usual potash
-test, platinum chloride.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>It is evident that the skin of the potato must resist
-this passage of the potash into the water, though it may
-not fully prevent it. The bursting of the skin only
-occurs at quite the latter stage of the cookery. The
-greatest practical authorities on the potato, Irishmen,
-appear to be unanimous. I do not remember to have
-seen a pre-peeled potato in Ireland. I find that I can
-at once detect by the difference of flavour whether a
-potato has been boiled with or without its jacket, and
-that this difference is evidently saline.</p>
-
-<p>These considerations lead to another conclusion,
-viz. that baked potatoes and fried potatoes, or potatoes
-cooked in such a manner as to be eaten with their own
-broth, as in Irish stew (in which cases the previous
-peeling does no mischief), are preferable to boiled
-potatoes. Steamed potatoes probably lose less of their
-potash juices than when boiled; but this is uncertain,
-as the modicum of distilled water condensed upon the
-potato and continually renewed may wash away as much
-as the larger quantity of hard water in which the boiled
-potato is immersed.</p>
-
-<p>Those who eat an abundance of fruit, of raw salads,
-and other vegetables supplying a sufficiency of potash
-to the blood, may peel and boil their potatoes; but the
-poor Irish peasant, who depends upon the potato for all
-his sustenance, requires that they shall supply him with
-potash.</p>
-
-<p>When travelling in Ireland (I explored every county
-of that country rather exhaustively during three successive
-summers when editing the 4th edition of Murray’s
-‘Handbook’), I was surprised at the absence of fruit-trees
-in the small farms where one might expect them
-to abound. On speaking of this the reason given was
-that all trees are the landlord’s property; that if a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
-tenant should plant them they would suggest luxury
-and prosperity, and therefore a rise of rent; or otherwise
-stated, the tenant would be fined for thus improving
-the value of his holding. This was before the passing
-of the Land Act, which we may hope will put an end to
-such legalised brigandage. With the abolition of rack-renting
-the Irish peasant may grow and eat fruit; may
-even taste jam without fear and trembling; may grow
-rhubarb and make pies and puddings in defiance of the
-agent. When this is the case, his craving for potato-potash
-will probably diminish, and his children may
-actually feed on bread.</p>
-
-<p>I have been told by an American lady that in the
-fatherland of potatoes, as well as in their adopted country,
-they are always boiled or steamed in their jackets: that
-American cooks, like those of Ireland, would consider it
-an outrage to cut off the protecting skin of the potato
-before cooking it; that they are more commonly mashed
-there than here, and that the mashing is done by rapidly
-removing the skins and throwing the stripped potato into
-a supplementary saucepan or other vessel, in which they
-may be kept hot until the preparation is completed.</p>
-
-<p>As regards the nutritive value of the potato, it is
-well to understand that the common notion concerning
-its cheapness as an article of food is a fallacy. Taking
-Dr. Edward Smith’s figures, 760 grains of carbon and
-24 grains of nitrogen are contained in 1 lb. of potatoes;
-2½ lbs. of potatoes are required to supply the amount of
-carbon contained in 1 lb. of bread; and 3½ lbs. of potatoes
-are necessary for supplying the nitrogen of 1 lb. of bread.
-With bread at 1½<i>d.</i> per lb., potatoes should cost less than
-½<i>d.</i> per lb. in order to be as cheap as bread for the hard-working
-man who requires an abundance of nitrogenous
-food.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Potatoes contain 17 per cent. of carbon; oatmeal
-has 73 per cent. Taking nitrogenous matter also into
-consideration, 1 lb. of oatmeal is worth 6 lbs. of potatoes.</p>
-
-<p>My own observations in Ireland have fully convinced
-me of the wisdom of William Cobbett’s denunciation of
-the potato as a staple article of food. The bulk that
-has to be eaten, and is eaten, in order to sustain life,
-converts the potato feeder into a mere assimilating
-machine during a largo part of the day, and renders him
-unfit for any kind of vigorous mental or bodily exertion.
-If I were the autocratic Czar of Ireland, my first step
-towards the regeneration of the Irish people would be
-the introduction, acclimatising, and dissemination of the
-Colorado beetle, in order to produce a complete and
-permanent potato famine. The effect of potato feeding
-may be studied by watching the work of a potato-fed
-Irish mower or reaper who comes across to work upon
-an English farm where the harvestmen are fed in the
-farmhouse and the supply of beer is not excessive. The
-improvement of his working powers after two or three
-weeks of English feeding is comparable to that of a
-horse when fed upon corn, beans, and hay, after feeding
-for a year on grass only.</p>
-
-<p>My strictures on the potato do not apply to them
-as used in England, where the prevailing vice of our
-ordinary diet is that it is too carnivorous. The potatoes
-we eat with our meat serve to dilute it, and supply the
-farinaceous element in which flesh is deficient.</p>
-
-<p>The reader may have observed that most of the
-starch foods are derived from the roots or stems of
-plants. Many others are used in tropical climates
-where little labour is demanded or done, and, therefore,
-but little nitrogenous food required.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a><br />
-
-<small>GLUTEN—BREAD.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">Having</span> treated the cookery of the chief constituents
-of the roots and stems of the plant, the fibre and the
-starch, I now come to food obtained from the seeds and
-the leaves.</p>
-
-<p>Taking the seeds first, as the more important, it
-becomes necessary to describe the nitrogenous constituents
-which are more abundant in them than in any
-other part of the plant, though they also contain starch
-and cell material, or woody fibre, as already stated.</p>
-
-<p>In the preceding chapter I described a method of
-separating starch from flour by washing a piece of
-dough in water, and thereby removing the starch granules,
-which fall to the bottom of the water. If this washing
-is continued until no further milkiness of the water is
-produced, the piece of dough will be much reduced in
-dimensions, and changed into a grey, tough, elastic, and
-viscous or glutinous substance, which has been compared
-to bird-lime, and has received the appropriate
-name of <i>gluten</i>. When dried, it becomes a hard, horny,
-transparent mass. It is insoluble in cold water, and
-partly soluble in hot water. It is soluble in strong
-vinegar, and in weak solutions of potash or soda. If
-the alkaline solution is neutralised by an acid, the gluten
-is precipitated.</p>
-
-<p>If crude gluten, obtained as above, is subjected to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
-action of hot alcohol, it is separated into two distinct
-substances, one soluble and the other insoluble. As the
-solution cools, a further separation takes place of a
-substance soluble in hot alcohol but not in cold, and
-another soluble in either hot or cold alcohol. The first,
-viz. that insoluble in either hot or cold alcohol, has been
-named <i>gluten-fibrin;</i> that soluble in hot alcohol, but
-not in cold, <i>gluten-casein;</i> and that soluble in either hot
-or cold alcohol, <i>glutin</i>. I give these names and explain
-them, as my readers may be otherwise puzzled by meeting
-them in books where they are used without explanation,
-especially as there is another substance presently to be
-described, to which the name of ‘vegetable casein’ has
-also been applied. The gluten-fibrin is supposed to
-correspond with blood-fibrin, gluten-casein with animal-casein,
-and glutin with albumen. Their composition is
-as follows, which I append for what it is worth in connection
-with this theory, but mainly to show how small
-is the difference between the chemical composition of
-the nitrogenous constituents of animals and those of
-plants. I shall come to this subject again:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="comparison of nutrients">
-<tr>
-<td align="center" class="btlrb">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Gluten-Fibrin</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Gluten-Casein</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Glutin</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·23</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·46</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·27</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·01</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·13</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·17</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">16·41</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">16·04</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·94</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Oxygen and sulphur</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">23·35</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">23·37</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">23·62</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="center" class="btlrb">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Blood-Fibrin (Scherer)</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Animal-Casein</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Albumen</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·57</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·83</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·50</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·90</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·15</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·00</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·72</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·65</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·50</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Oxygen and sulphur</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">22·81</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">23·37</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">24·00</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Gluten is usually described as ‘partly soluble in hot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
-water.’ My own examination of this substance suggests
-that ‘partially soluble’ is a better description than
-‘partly soluble’ (Miller) or ‘very slightly soluble’ (Lehmann).
-This difference is not merely a verbal quibble,
-but very real and practical in reference to the <i>rationale</i> of
-its cookery. A partially soluble substance is one which
-is composed of soluble and also of insoluble constituents,
-which, as already stated, is strictly the case with gluten
-in reference to the solvent action of hot alcohol. A very
-slightly soluble substance is one that dissolves completely,
-but demands a very large quantity of the solvent. I
-find that the action of hot water on gluten, as applied in
-cookery, is to effect what may be described as a partial
-solution—that is, it effects a loosening of the bonds of
-solidity without going so far as to render it completely
-fluid.</p>
-
-<p>It appears to be a sort of hydration similar to that
-which is effected by hot water on starch, but less decided.</p>
-
-<p>To illustrate this, wash some flour in cold water so as
-to separate the gluten in the manner already described;
-then boil some flour as in making ordinary bill-stickers’
-paste, and wash this in cold water. The gluten will
-come out with difficulty from this, and, when separated,
-will be softer and less tenacious than the cold-washed
-specimen. This difference remains until some of the
-water it contains is driven out, for which reason I regard
-it as hydrated, though I am not prepared to say that
-the hydration is of a truly chemical character—a definite
-chemical combination of gluten with water; it may be
-only a mechanical combination—a loosening of solidity
-by a molecular intermingling of water.</p>
-
-<p>The importance of this in the cookery of grain-food
-is very great, as anybody who aspires to the honour of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
-becoming a martyr to science may prove by simply
-making a meal on raw wheat, masticating the grains
-until reduced to small pills of gluten, and then swallowing
-them. Mild indigestion or acute spasms will follow,
-according to the quantity taken and the digestive energies
-of the experimenter. Raw flour will act similarly,
-but less decidedly.</p>
-
-<p>Bread-making is the most important, as well as a
-typical example, of the cookery of grain-food. The
-grinding of the grain is the first process of such cookery;
-it vastly increases the area exposed to the subsequent
-actions.</p>
-
-<p>The next stage is that of surrounding each grain of
-the flour with a thin film of water. This is done in
-making the dough by careful admixture of a modicum
-of water and kneading, in order to squeeze the water
-well between all the particles. The effect of insufficient
-enveloping in water is sometimes seen in a loaf containing
-a white powdery kernel of unmixed flour.</p>
-
-<p>If nothing more than this were done, and such simple
-dough were baked, the starch granules would be duly
-broken up and hydrated, the gluten also hydrated, but,
-at the same time, the particles of flour would be so
-cemented together as to form a mass so hard and tough
-when baked, that no ordinary human teeth could crush
-it. Among all our modern triumphs of applied science,
-none can be named that is more refined and elegant
-than the old device by which this difficulty is overcome
-in the everyday business of making bread. Who invented
-it, and when, I do not know. Its discovery
-was certainly very far anterior to any knowledge of the
-chemical principles involved in its application, and
-probably accidental.</p>
-
-<p>The problem has a very difficult aspect. Here are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
-millions of particles, each of which has to be moistened
-on its surface, but each, when thus moistened, becomes
-remarkably adhesive, and therefore sticks fast to all its
-surrounding neighbours. We require, without altogether
-suppressing this adhesiveness, to interpose a barrier that
-shall sunder these millions of particles from each other
-so delicately as neither to separate them completely nor
-allow them to completely adhere.</p>
-
-<p>It is evident that, if the operation that supplies each
-particle with its film of moisture can simultaneously
-supply it with a partial atmosphere of gaseous matter,
-the difficult and delicate problem will be effectively
-solved. It is thus solved in making bread.</p>
-
-<p>As already explained, the seed which is broken up
-into flour contains diastase as well as starch, and this
-diastase, when aided by moisture and moderate warmth,
-converts the starch into dextrin and sugar. This action
-commences when the dough is made; this alone
-would only increase the adhesiveness of the mass, if it
-went no further, but the sugar thus produced may, by
-the aid of a suitable ferment, be converted into alcohol.
-As the composition of alcohol corresponds to that of
-sugar, minus carbonic acid, the evolution of carbonic
-acid gas is an essential part of this conversion.</p>
-
-<p>With these facts before us, their practical application
-in bread-making is easily understood. To the water
-with which the flour is to be moistened some yeast is
-added, and the yeast-cells, which are very much smaller
-than the grains of flour, are diffused throughout the
-water. The flour is moistened with this liquid, which
-only demands a temperature of about 70° Fahr. to act
-with considerable energy on every granule of flour that
-it touches. Instead, then, of the passive, lumpy, tenacious
-dough produced by moistening the flour with mere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
-water, a lively ‘sponge,’ as the baker calls it, is produced,
-which ‘rises’ or grows in bulk by the evolution and
-interposition of millions of invisibly small bubbles of
-gas. This sponge is mixed with more flour and water,
-and kneaded and kneaded again to effect a complete
-and equal diffusion of the gas bubbles, and finally, the
-porous mass of dough is placed in an oven previously
-raised to a temperature of about 450°.</p>
-
-<p>The baker’s old-fashioned method of testing the temperature
-of his oven is instructive. He throws flour on
-the floor. If it blackens without taking fire, the heat is
-considered sufficient. It might be supposed that this is
-too high a temperature, as the object is to cook the
-flour, not to burn it. But we must remember that the
-flour which has been prepared for baking is mixed with
-water, and the evaporation of this water will materially
-lower the temperature of the dough itself. Besides this,
-we must bear in mind that another object is to be
-attained. A hard shell or crust has to be formed, which
-will so encase and support the lump of dough as to prevent
-it from subsiding when the further evolution of
-carbonic acid gas shall cease, which will be the case
-some time before the cooking of the mass is completed.
-It will happen when the temperature reaches the point
-at which the yeast-cells can no longer germinate, which
-temperature is considerably below the boiling point of
-water.</p>
-
-<p>In spite of this high outside temperature, that of the
-inner part of the loaf is kept down to a little above 212°
-by the evaporation of the water contained in the bread.
-The escape of this vapour and the expansion of the
-carbonic acid bubbles by heat combine to increase the
-porosity of the loaf.</p>
-
-<p>The outside being heated considerably above the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
-temperature of the inner part, this variation produces
-the differences between the crust and the crumb. The
-action of the high temperature in directly converting
-some of the starch into dextrin will be understood from
-what I have already stated, and also the partial conversion
-of this dextrin into caramel, which was described
-in <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Chapter VII.</a></p>
-
-<p>Thus we have in the crust an excess of dextrin as
-compared with the crumb, and the addition of a variable
-quantity of caramel. In lightly-baked bread, with a
-crust of uniform pale yellowish colour, the conversion of
-the dextrin into caramel has barely commenced, and
-the gummy character of the dextrin coating is well
-displayed. Some such bread, especially the long staves
-of life common in France, appear as though they had
-been varnished, and their crust is partially soluble in water.</p>
-
-<p>This explains the apparent paradox that hard crust,
-or dry toast, is more easily digested than the soft crumb
-of bread; the cookery of the crumb not having been
-carried beyond the mere hydration of the gluten and the
-starch, and such degree of dextrin formation as was due
-to the action of the diastase of the grain during the preliminary
-period of ‘rising.’ In the crust some of the
-work of insalivation is already done by the baker. The
-digestibility of toast is doubtless aided by its brittleness,
-causing it to be more broken up and mixed with the
-saliva.</p>
-
-<p>Everybody has, of course, heard of ‘unfermented
-bread,’ and many have tasted it. Several methods have
-been devised, some patented, for effecting an evolution
-of gas in the dough without having recourse to the fermentation
-above described. One of these is that of
-adding a little hydrochloric acid to the water used in
-moistening the flour, and mixing bicarbonate of soda in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
-powder with the flour (to every 4 lbs. of flour ½ oz.
-bicarbonate and 4½ fluid drachms of hydrochloric acid
-of 1·16 specific gravity). These combine and form
-sodium chloride, common salt, with evolution of carbonic
-acid. The salt thus formed takes the place of that
-usually added in ordinary bread-making, and the carbonic
-acid gas evolved acts like that given off in fermentation;
-but the rapidity of the action of the acid and
-carbonate presents a difficulty. The bread must be
-quickly made, as the action is soon completed. It does
-not go on steadily increasing and stopping just at the
-right moment, as in the case of fermentation.</p>
-
-<p>Other methods similar in principle have been adopted,
-such as adding ammonia carbonate with the soda carbonate.
-The ammonia salt is volatile itself, besides
-evolving carbonic acid by its union with the acid.</p>
-
-<p>In spite of the great amount of ingenuity expended
-upon the manufacture of such unfermented bread, and
-the efforts to bring it into use, but little progress has
-been made. The general verdict appears to be that the
-unfermented bread is not so ‘sweet,’ that it lacks some
-element of flavour, is ‘chippy’ or tasteless as compared
-with good old-fashioned wheaten bread, free from alum
-or other adulteration. My theory of this difference is
-that it is due to the absence of those changes which take
-place while the sponge or dough is rising, when, if I am
-right, the diastase of the grain is operating, as in germination,
-to produce a certain quantity of dextrin and
-sugar, and possibly acting also on the gluten. Deficiency
-of dextrin is, I think, the chief cause of the chippy character
-of aerated bread. It must be remembered that, in
-ordinary bread-making, the fermentation is protracted
-over several hours, during which the temperature most
-favourable to germination is steadily maintained.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The practical importance of the fermentation is
-strikingly shown by the fact that, in the course of
-sponge rising, dough rising, and baking, a loaf becomes
-about four times as large as the original mixture of
-flour, water, &amp;c., of which it was made; or, otherwise
-stated, an ordinary loaf is made up of one part of solid
-bread to more than three parts of air bubbles or pores.
-French rolls and some other kinds of fancy bread are
-still more gaseous.</p>
-
-<p>So far I have only named the flour, water, salt, and
-yeast. These, with a little sugar or milk, added according
-to taste and custom, are the ingredients of home-made
-bread, but ‘bakers’ bread’ is commonly, though
-not necessarily, somewhat more complex. There is the
-material technically known as ‘fruit,’ and another which
-bears the equivocal name of ‘stuff,’ or ‘rocky.’ The
-<i>fruit</i> are potatoes. The quantity of these prescribed in
-Knight’s ‘Guide to Trade’ is one peck to the sack of
-flour. This proportion is so small (about 3 per cent. by
-weight) that, if not exceeded, it cannot be regarded as a
-fraudulent adulteration, for the additional cost involved
-in the boiling, skinning, and general preparing of the
-small addition exceeds the saving in the price of raw
-material. The fruit, therefore, is not added merely
-because it is cheaper than flour, as many people suppose.</p>
-
-<p>The instructions concerning its use given in the work
-above named clearly indicate that the potato flour is used
-to assist fermentation. These instructions prescribe that
-the peck of potatoes shall be boiled in their skins, mashed
-in the ‘seasoning tub,’ then mixed with two or three quarts
-of water, the same quantity of patent yeast, and three or
-four pounds of flour. The mixture is left to stand for six
-or twelve hours, when it will have become what is called
-a <i>ferment</i>. After straining through a sieve, to separate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
-the skins of the fruit, it is mixed with the sack of flour,
-water, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>It is evident from this that it would not pay to add
-such a quantity in such a manner as a mere adulterant.
-The baker uses it for improving the bread, from his
-point of view.</p>
-
-<p>The <i>stuff</i> or <i>rocky</i> consists, according to Tomlinson,
-of one part of alum to three parts of common salt. The
-same authority tells us that the bakers buy this at 2<i>d.</i> per
-packet, containing 1 lb. in each, and that they believe it
-to be ground alum. They buy it thus for immediate
-use, being subject to a heavy fine if they keep alum on
-the premises. The quantity of the mixture ordinarily
-used is 8 oz. to each sack of flour weighing 280 lbs., so
-that the proportion of alum is but 2 oz. to 280 lbs. As
-one sack of flour is (with water) made into eighty loaves
-weighing 4 lbs. each, the quantity of alum in 1 lb. of
-bread amounts to <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>160</sub></small>th of an oz.</p>
-
-<p>The <i>rationale</i> of the action of this small quantity of
-alum is still a chemical puzzle. That it has an appreciable
-effect in improving the <i>appearance</i> of the bread is
-unquestionable, and it may actually improve the quality
-of bread made from inferior flour.</p>
-
-<p>One of the baker’s technical tests of quality is the
-manner in which the loaves of a batch separate from
-each other. That they should break evenly and present
-a somewhat silky rather than a lumpy fracture, is a
-matter of trade estimation. When the fracture is rough
-and lumpy, one loaf pulling away some of the just
-belongings of its neighbour, the feelings of the orthodox
-baker are much wounded. The alum is said to prevent
-this impropriety, while an excess of salt aggravates it.</p>
-
-<p>It appears to be a fact that this small quantity of
-alum whitens the bread. In this, as in so many other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
-cases of adulteration, there are two guilty parties—the
-buyer who demands impossible or unnatural appearances,
-and the manufacturer or vendor who supplies the
-foolish demand. The judging of bread by its whiteness
-is a mistake which has led to much mischief, against
-which the recent agitation for ‘whole meal’ is, I think,
-an extreme reaction.</p>
-
-<p>If the husk, which is demanded by the whole-meal
-agitators, were as digestible as the inner flour, they
-would unquestionably be right, but it is easy to show
-that it is not, and that in some cases the passage of the
-undigested particles may produce mischievous irritation
-in the intestinal canal. My own opinion on this subject
-(it still remains in the region of opinion rather than
-of science) is that a middle course is the right one, viz.
-that bread should be made of moderately-dressed or
-‘seconds’ flour rather than over-dressed ‘firsts’ or undressed
-‘thirds’—<i>i.e.</i> unsifted whole-meal flour.</p>
-
-<p>Such seconds flour does not fairly produce white
-bread, and consumers are unwise in demanding whiteness.
-In my household we make our own bread, but
-occasionally, when the demand exceeds ordinary supply,
-a loaf or two is bought from the baker. I find that,
-with corresponding or identical flour, the baker’s bread
-is whiter than the home-made, and proportionally inferior.
-I may describe it as colourless in flavour, it
-lacks the characteristic of wheaten sweetness. There
-are, however, exceptions to this, as certain bakers are
-now doing a great business in supplying what they call
-‘home-made’ or ‘farmhouse’ bread. It is darker in
-colour than ordinary bread, but is sold nevertheless at a
-higher price, and I find that it has the flavour of the
-bread made in my own kitchen. When their customers
-become more intelligent, all the bakers will doubtless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
-cease to incur the expense of buying packets of ‘stuff’
-or ‘rocky,’ or any other bleaching abomination.</p>
-
-<p>Liebig asserts that in certain cases the use of lime-water
-improves the quality of bread. Tomlinson says
-that ‘in the time of bad harvests, when the wheat is
-damaged, the flour may be considerably improved, without
-any injurious result whatever, by the addition of
-from 20 to 40 grains of carbonate of magnesia to every
-pound of flour.’ It is also stated that chalk has been
-used for the same purpose. These would all act in
-nearly the same manner by neutralising any acid, such
-as acetic, that might already exist or be generated in
-the course of fermentation.</p>
-
-<p>When gluten is kept in a moist state, it slowly loses
-its soft, elastic, and insoluble condition; if kept in water
-for a few days, it gradually runs down into a turbid,
-slimy solution, which does not form dough when mixed
-with starch. The gluten of imperfectly-ripened wheat,
-or of flour or wheat that has been badly kept in the
-midst of humid surroundings, appears to have fallen
-partially into this condition, the gluten being an actively
-hygroscopic substance.</p>
-
-<p>Liebig’s experiments show that flour in which the
-gluten has undergone this partial change may have its
-original qualities restored by mixing 100 parts of flour
-with 26 or 27 parts of saturated lime-water and a sufficiency
-of ordinary water to work it into dough. I
-suspect that the action of the alum is of a similar
-kind, though this does not satisfactorily account for the
-bleaching.</p>
-
-<p>The action of sulphate of copper, which has been
-used in Belgium and other places for improving the
-appearance and sponginess of loaves, is still more mysterious
-than that of alum. Kuhlmann found that a single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
-grain in a 4-lb. loaf produced a marked alteration in the
-appearance of the bread. Fortunately this adulteration,
-if perpetrated to a mischievous extent, may be easily
-detected by acidulating the crumb, and then moistening
-with a solution of ferrocyanide of potassium. The brown
-colour thus produced betrays the presence of copper.
-The detection of alum in small quantities is extremely
-difficult.</p>
-
-<p>I should add that the ancient method of effecting
-the fermentation of bread, which I understand is still
-employed to some extent in France, differs somewhat
-from the ordinary modern English practice.</p>
-
-<p>When flour made into dough is kept for some time
-moderately warm, it undergoes spontaneous fermentation,
-formerly described as ‘panary fermentation,’ and
-supposed to be of a different nature from the fermentation
-which produces yeast.</p>
-
-<p>Dough in this condition is called <i>leaven</i>, and when
-kneaded with fresh flour and water its fermentation is
-communicated to the whole lump; hence the ancient
-metaphors. In practice the leaven was obtained by
-setting aside some of the dough of a previous batch,
-and adding this to the next when its fermentation had
-reached its maximum activity. One reason why the
-modern method has superseded this appears to be that
-the leaven is liable to proceed onward beyond the first
-stage of fermentation, or that producing alcohol, and run
-into the acetous, or vinegar-forming fermentation, producing
-sour bread. Another reason may be that the
-potato mixture above described, which is but another
-kind of leaven, is more effectual and convenient.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Dauglish’s method (patented in 1856, 1857, and
-1858) is based on the fact that water under pressure
-absorbs and holds in solution a large quantity of carbonic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
-acid gas, which escapes when the pressure is diminished,
-as in uncorking soda-water, &amp;c. Dr. Dauglish
-places the flour in a strong, air-tight iron vessel, then
-forces water saturated with carbonic acid under high
-pressure into this; kneading-knives mix the dough by
-their rotation. When the mixture is completed a trap
-at the lower part of the globular iron vessel is opened.
-The pressure of the confined carbonic acid above forces
-the dough through this in a cylindrical jet or flat ribbon
-as required, and this squirted cylinder or ribbon is
-fashioned by suitable cutters, &amp;c., into loaves. The compressed
-gas expands, and the loaves are smartly baked
-before the expansive energy of the gas is exhausted. It
-is justly claimed for this process that it is far more
-cleanly than the ordinary method of making bread, as
-with suitable machinery such ‘aerated bread’ can be
-made without handling.</p>
-
-<p>The difference between new and stale bread is
-familiar enough, but the nature of the difference is by
-no means so commonly understood. It is generally
-supposed to be a simple result of mere drying. That
-this is not a true explanation may be easily proved by
-repeating the experiments of Boussingault, who placed
-a very stale loaf (six days old) in an oven for an hour,
-during which time it was, of course, being further dried;
-but, nevertheless, it came out as a new loaf. He found
-that during the six days, while becoming stale, it only
-lost 1 per cent. of its weight by drying, and that during
-the one hour in the oven it lost 3½ per cent. in becoming
-new, and apparently more moist. By using an air-tight
-case instead of an ordinary oven, he repeated the
-experiment several times in succession on the same piece
-of bread, making it alternately stale and new each time.</p>
-
-<p>For this experiment the oven should be but moderately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
-heated—260° to 300° Fahr. is sufficient. I am
-fond of hot rolls for breakfast, and frequently have them
-<i>à la Boussingault</i>, by treating stale bread-crusts in this
-manner. My wife tells me that when the crusts have
-been long neglected, and are thin, the Boussingault hot
-rolls are improved by dipping the crust in water before
-putting it into the oven. This is not necessary in
-experimenting with a whole loaf or a thick piece of stale
-bread.</p>
-
-<p>The crumb of bread, whether new or stale, contains
-about 45 per cent. of water. Miller says ‘the difference
-in properties between the two depends simply upon
-difference in molecular arrangement.’</p>
-
-<p>This ‘molecular arrangement’ is the customary
-modern method of explaining a multitude of similar
-physical and chemical problems, or, as I would rather
-say, of evading explanation under the cover of a vague
-conventional phrase.</p>
-
-<p>I have made some simple experiments which supply
-a visible explanation of the facts without invoking the
-aid of any invisible atoms or molecules, or any imaginary
-arrangements or rearrangements of these imaginary
-entities.</p>
-
-<p>I find that, as bread becomes stale, its porosity <i>appears</i>
-to increase, and that when renewed by reheating, it
-returns to its original <i>apparently</i> smaller degree of porosity.
-That this change can be only apparent is evident
-from the facts that the total quantity of solid material
-in the loaf remains the same, and its total dimensions
-are retained more or less completely by the rigidity of
-the crust. I say ‘more or less,’ because this depends
-upon the thickness and hardness of the crust, and also
-upon the completeness of its surrounding. Lightly-baked
-loaves shrink a little in dimensions in becoming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
-stale, and partly regain the loss on reheating, but this
-difference only exaggerates the apparent paradox of varying
-porosity, as the diminished bulk of a given quantity
-of material displays increased porosity, and the increase
-of total dimensions accompanies the diminished porosity.</p>
-
-<p>I have obtained a reconciliation of this paradox by
-careful examination of the structure of the crumb. This
-shows that the larger or decidedly visible pores are cells
-having walls of somewhat silky appearance. The silky
-lustre and structure is, I have no doubt, due to a varnish
-of dextrin, the gummy nature of which I have already
-described. On looking a little more closely at this inner
-surface of the big blow-holes with the aid of a hand-lens
-of moderate power, I find that it is not a continuous
-varnish of gum, but a net-work or agglomeration of
-gummy fibres and particles, barely touching each other.</p>
-
-<p>My theory of the change that takes place as the bread
-becomes stale is, that these fibres and particles gradually
-approach each other either by shrinkage or adhesive
-attraction, and thus consolidate and harden the walls of
-each of the millions of easily visible pores, these walls
-forming the solid material of which the loaf is made up.
-In doing so they naturally increase the dimensions of
-the visible pores, while the microscopic interstices or
-spaces between the minute fibres of the cell walls are
-diminished by the approximation or adhesion of the
-fibres to each other.</p>
-
-<p>This adhesion is probably aided by an oozing out or
-efflorescence of the vapour held by the fibres, and its
-condensation on their surfaces. This point, be it understood,
-is merely hypothetical, as the efflorescence is not
-visible. All the other phenomena I have just described
-are visible either with the naked eye or by the aid of a lens.</p>
-
-<p>When the stale bread is again heated, a general<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
-expansion occurs by the conversion of liquid water into
-aqueous vapour, every grain of water thus converted
-expanding to 1,700 times its former bulk. As this happens
-throughout, <i>i.e.</i> upon the surface of every one of
-the countless fibres or particles, there must be a general
-elbowing in the crowd, breaking up the recent adhesion
-between these fibres and thrusting them all apart in the
-directions of least resistance; <i>i.e.</i> towards the open
-spaces of the larger and visible pores, producing that
-<i>apparent</i> diminution of porosity that I have observed as
-the easily visible characteristic of the change.</p>
-
-<p>This explanation may be further demonstrated by
-cutting a loaf through the middle from top to bottom,
-and exposing the cut surfaces. In this case the bread
-becomes unequally stale, more so near the cut surface than
-within. The unequal pull due to the greater approximation
-and adhesion of the fibres and small particles causes
-a rupture of the exposed surface of the crumb, which
-becomes cracked or fissured without any perceptible
-alteration of the size of the visible pores. If the two
-broken faces be now accurately placed together, the
-halves thus closely joined, firmly tied, and placed for an
-hour in the oven, it will be seen on separating them that
-the chasms are considerably closed, though not quite
-healed. Careful examination of the structure of the
-inside, by breaking out a portion of the crumb, will
-reveal that loosening which I have described.</p>
-
-<p>‘Popped corn’ is a peculiar example of starch
-cookery. Here a certain degree of porosity is given to
-an originally close-compacted structure of starch by the
-simple operation of explosive violence due to the sudden
-conversion into vapour of the water naturally associated
-with the starch. The operation is too rapid for the
-production of much dextrin.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a><br />
-
-<small>VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">As</span> most of my readers doubtless know, peas, beans,
-lentils and other seeds of leguminous plants are more
-nutritious, theoretically, than the seeds of grasses, such
-as wheat, barley, oats, maize, &amp;c. I was glad to see at
-the Health Exhibition a fine series of the South Kensington
-cases, displaying in the simplest and most demonstrative
-manner the proximate analyses of the chief
-materials of animal and vegetable food. I refer to them
-now because they did not receive the attention they
-deserve. On the opening day there was, out of all the
-crowd, only one other besides myself bestowing any
-attention upon them. These cases show 1 lb. of wheat,
-oats, potatoes, peas, &amp;c. &amp;c., on trays; by the side of
-these are bottles, containing the quantity of water in
-the 1 lb., and other trays, containing the other constituents
-of the same quantity; the starch, gluten, casein,
-the mineral matter, &amp;c., thus displaying at a glance the
-nutritious value of each so far as chemical analysis can
-display it. Those Irishmen and others who think I have
-been too hard upon the potato, will do well to take its
-nutritive measure thus, and compare it with that of other
-vegetable foods. I should add that these cases form a part
-of the permanent collection of the South Kensington
-Museum, and therefore may be studied at any time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>All the leguminous seeds, the ground-nuts, &amp;c., have
-their nitrogenous constituents displayed under the name
-of ‘casein.’ The use of this term is rather confusing.
-In many modern books it does not appear at all in
-connection with the vegetable kingdom, but is replaced
-by ‘legumin.’ Liebig regarded this nitrogenous constituent
-of the leguminous seeds, almonds, &amp;c., as identical
-with the casein of milk, and it was a pupil and
-friend of Liebig’s—the late Prince Consort—who devised
-and originally supervised this graphic method of displaying
-the chemistry of food.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p>
-
-<p>I will not here discuss the vexed question of whether
-the analyses of Liebig, identifying legumin with casein,
-or rather those of Dumas and Cahours, who state that
-the vegetable casein is not of the same composition as
-animal casein, are correct.</p>
-
-<p>The following figures display my justification for thus
-lightly treating the discussion:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="author's justification">
-<tr>
-<td align="center" class="btlrb">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Casein</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Legumin</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Legumin</td>
-<td align="center" class="btrb">Legumin</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">53·7</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">50·50</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">55·05</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">56·24</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·2</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·78</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·59</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">7·97</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">16·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">18·17</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·89</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·83</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Oxygen and Sulphur</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">22·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">24·55</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">21·47</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">19·96</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<p>The first column shows the results of Dumas for
-animal casein; the second, those of Dumas and Cahours
-for legumin; the third, those of Jones for the same; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
-the fourth, those of Rochleder; all as quoted by Lehmann.
-Here it will be seen that the differences upon
-which Dumas and Cahours base their supposed refutation
-of the identity of the animal with the vegetable
-principle are much smaller than the differences between
-the results of different analyses of the latter. These
-differences I suspect are all due to the difficulty of
-isolating the substances in question, especially of the
-vegetable substance, which is so intimately mixed with
-the starch, &amp;c., in its natural condition that complete
-separation is of questionable possibility. The difficulty
-(or impossibility) of driving off all the adhering water,
-without removing the combined elements of water, is
-a further source of discrepancy.</p>
-
-<p>This will be understood by the following description
-of the method of separation as given by Miller (‘Elements
-of Chemistry,’ vol. iii.). ‘Legumin is usually extracted
-from peas or from almonds, by digesting the
-pulp of the crushed seeds in warm water for two or three
-hours. The undissolved portion is strained off by means
-of linen, and the turbid liquid allowed to deposit the
-starch which it holds in suspension; it is then filtered
-and mixed with dilute acetic acid. A white flocculent
-precipitate is thus formed, which must be collected on a
-filter and washed.’</p>
-
-<p>This is but a mechanical process, and its liability to
-variation in result may be learned by anybody who will
-repeat it, or who has separated the gluten of flour by
-similar treatment.</p>
-
-<p>Practically regarded in relation to our present subject,
-casein and legumin may be considered as the same. Their
-nutritive values are equal, and exceptionally high, supposing
-they can be digested and assimilated. One is
-the most difficult of digestion of the nitrogenous constituents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
-of vegetable food, and the other enjoys the same
-distinction among those of animal food. Both primarily
-exist in a soluble form; both are rendered solid and insoluble
-in water by the action of acids; <i>both are precipitated
-as a curd by rennet</i>, and both are rendered
-soluble after precipitation, or are retained in their original
-soluble form by the action of alkalies. They nearly
-resemble <i>in flavour</i>, and John Chinaman makes actual
-cheese from peas and beans.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
- <div class="poetry">
-<div class="verse">Pease-pudding hot, pease-pudding cold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Pease-pudding in the pot, nine days old.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>I leave to Mr. Clodd the historical problem of determining
-whether this notable couplet is of Semitic, Aryan,
-Neolithic, or Paleolithic origin. Regarded from my point
-of view, it expresses a culinary and chemical principle of
-some importance, and indicates an ancient practice that
-is worthy of revival.</p>
-
-<p>I have lately made some experiments on the ensilage
-of human food, whereby the cellular tissue of the vegetable
-may be gradually subjected to that breaking up of
-fibre already described. One of the curious achievements
-of chemical metamorphoses that is often quoted
-as a matter for wonderment is the conversion of old
-rags into sugar by treating them with acid. The
-wonderment of this is diminished, and its interest increased,
-when we remember that the cellulose or woody
-fibre of which the rags are composed has the same
-composition as starch, and thus its conversion into
-sugar corresponds to the every-day proceedings described
-in <a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Chapter XI.</a> All that I have read and seen
-in connection with the recent ensilage experiments on
-cattle fodder indicate that it is a process of slow vegetable
-cookery, a digesting or maceration of fibrous vegetables<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
-in their own juices, which loosens the fibre, renders it
-softer and more digestible, and not only does this, but,
-to some extent, converts it into dextrin and sugar.</p>
-
-<p>I hereby recommend those gentlemen who have
-ensilage-pits and are sufficiently enterprising to try bold
-experiments, to water the fodder, as it is being packed
-down, with dilute hydrochloric acid or acetic acid, which,
-if I am not deluded by plausible theory, will materially
-increase the sugar-forming action of the ensilage. The
-acid, if not over-supplied, will find ammonia and other
-bases with which to neutralise itself.</p>
-
-<p>Such ensilage will correspond to that which occurs
-when we gather Jersey or other superlatively fine pears
-in autumn as soon as they are full grown. They are
-then hard, woody, and acid, quite unfit for food, but by
-simply storing them for a month, or two, or three, they
-become lusciously tender and sweet; the woody fibres
-are converted into sugar, the acid neutralised, and all
-this by simply fulfilling the conditions of ensilage, viz.
-close packing of the fibre, exclusion of air by the thick
-rind of the fruit, <i>plus</i> the other condition which I have
-just suggested, viz. the diffusion of acid among the
-well-packed fibres of the ensilage material.</p>
-
-<p>In my experiments on the ensilage of human food I
-have encountered the same difficulty as that which has
-troubled graziers in their experiments, viz. that small-scale
-results do not fairly represent those obtained with
-large quantities. There is besides this another element
-of imperfection in my experiments respecting which I
-am bound to be candid to my readers, viz. that the idea
-of thus extending the principle was suggested in the
-course of writing this series, and, therefore, a sufficient
-time has not yet elapsed to enable me (with much other
-occupation) to do practical justice to the investigation.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>I find that oatmeal-porridge is greatly improved by
-being made some days before it is required, then stored
-in a closed jar, brought forth and heated for use. The
-change effected is just that which theoretically may be
-expected, viz. a softening of the fibrous material, and a
-sweetening due to the formation of sugar. This sweetening
-I observed many years ago in some gruel that
-was partly eaten one night and left standing until next
-morning, when I thought it tasted sweeter; but to be
-assured of this I had it warmed again two nights afterwards,
-so that it might be tasted under the same conditions
-of temperature, palate, &amp;c., as at first. The
-sweetness was still more distinct, but the experiment was
-carried no further.</p>
-
-<p>I have lately learned that my ensilage notion is not
-absolutely new. A friend who read my Cantor Lectures
-tells me that he has long been accustomed to have his
-porridge made some days before eating it, then having
-it warmed up when required. He finds the result more
-digestible than newly-made porridge. The classical nine
-days’ old pease-pudding is a similar anticipation, and I
-find, rather curiously, that nine days is about the limit
-to which it may be practically kept in a cool place
-before mildew—mouldiness—is sufficiently established
-to spoil the pudding. I have not yet tried a barrel full of
-pease-pudding or moistened pease-meal, closely covered
-and powerfully pressed down, but hope to do so.</p>
-
-<p>Besides these we have a notable example of ensilage
-in sour-kraut—a foreign luxury that John Bull, with
-his usual blindness, denounces, as a matter of course.
-‘Horrid stuff!’ ‘beastly mess!’ and such-like expressions
-I hear whenever I name it to certain persons. Who are
-these persons? Simply English men and English women
-who have never seen, never tasted, and know nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
-whatever of what they denounce so violently, in spite of
-the fact that it is a staple article of food among millions
-of highly-intelligent people. Common sense (to say
-nothing of that highest result of true scientific training,
-the faculty of suspending judgment until the arrival of
-knowledge) should suggest that some degree of investigation
-should precede the denunciation.</p>
-
-<p>In the cases of the sour-kraut and the ripening pear
-there is acid at work upon the fibre, which, as I have before
-stated, assists in the conversion of this indigestible constituent
-into soluble and digestible dextrin and sugar.</p>
-
-<p>The demand for the solution of the vegetable casein
-or legumin, which has such high nutritive value and is
-so abundant in peas, &amp;c., is of the opposite kind. Acids
-solidify and harden casein, alkalies soften and dissolve
-it. Therefore the chemical agent suggested as a suitable
-aid in the ensilage or slow cookery, or the boiling or
-rapid cookery, of leguminous food is such an alkali as
-may be wholesome and compatible with the demands
-for nutrition.</p>
-
-<p>The analyses of peas, beans, lentils, &amp;c., show a deficiency
-of potash salts as compared with the quantity
-of nitrogenous nutriment they contain; therefore I propose,
-as in the case of cheese food, that we should add
-this potash in the convenient and safe form of bicarbonate—not
-merely add it to the water in which the
-vegetables may be boiled, and which water is thrown
-away (as in the common practice of adding soda when
-boiling greens), but add the potash to the actual pease-porridge,
-pease-pudding, lentil soup, &amp;c., and treat it as
-a part of the food as well as an adjunct to the cookery.
-This is especially required when we use dried peas, dried
-beans of any kind, such as haricots, dried lentils, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>I find that taking the ordinary yellow split-peas and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
-boiling them in a weak solution of bicarbonate of potash
-for two or three hours, a partial solution of the casein is
-effected, producing pease-pudding, or pease-porridge, or
-<i>purée</i> (according to the quantity of water used), which is
-softer and more gelid than that which is obtained by
-similarly boiling without the potash. The undissolved
-portion evidently consists of the fibrous tissue of the
-peas, the gelatinous or dissolved portion being the starch,
-with more or less of casein. I say ‘more or less,’ because
-at present I have not been able to determine whether or
-not the casein is <i>all</i> rendered soluble.</p>
-
-<p>The flavour of the clear pea-soup which I obtained
-by filtering through flannel shows that some of the
-casein is dissolved; this is further demonstrated by adding
-an acid to the clear solution, which at once precipitates
-the dissolved casein. The filtered pea-soup sets to
-a stiff jelly on cooling, and promises to be a special food
-of some value, but for the reasons above stated, I am not
-yet able to speak positively as to its quantitative value.
-The experience of any one person is not sufficient for
-this, the question being, not whether it contains nutritive
-material—this is unquestionable—but whether it is easily
-digested and assimilated. As we all know, a food of
-this kind may ‘agree’ with some persons and not with
-others—<i>i.e.</i> it may be digested and assimilated with ease
-or with difficulty according to personal idiosyncrasies.
-The cheesy character of the abundant precipitate which
-I obtain by acidulating this solution is very interesting
-and instructive, regarded from a chemical point of view.
-The solubility of the casein is increased by soaking the
-peas for some hours, or, better still, a few days, in the
-solution of bicarbonate of potash.</p>
-
-<p>Another question is opened by these experiments,
-viz. what is the character and the value of the fibrous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
-solid matter remaining behind after filtering out the clear
-pea-soup? Has the alkali acted in an opposite manner
-to the acid in the ripening pear? Is it merely a fibrous
-refuse only fit for pig-food, or is it deserving of further
-attention in the kitchen? Should it be treated with
-dilute acid—say a little vinegar—to break up the fibre,
-and thereby be made into good porridge? Other questions
-crop up here as they have been cropping continually
-since I committed myself to the writing of these
-papers, and so abundantly that if I could afford to set
-up a special laboratory, and endow it with a staff of
-assistants, there would be some years’ work for myself
-and staff before I could answer them exhaustively, and,
-doubtless, the answers would suggest new questions, and
-so on <i>ad infinitum</i>. I state this in apology for the
-merely suggestive crudity of many of the ideas that I
-have thrown out.</p>
-
-<p>Before leaving the subject of peas, I must here repeat
-a practical suggestion that I published in the ‘Birmingham
-Journal,’ about twenty years ago, viz. that the
-water in which green peas are boiled should not be
-thrown away. It contains much of the saline constituents
-of the peas, some soluble casein, and has a fine
-flavour, the very essence of the peas. If to this, as it
-comes from the saucepan, be added a little stock, or
-some Liebig’s ‘Extract,’ a delicious soup is at once
-produced, requiring nothing more than ordinary seasoning.
-With care, it may form a clear soup such as just
-now is in fashion among the fastidious, but prepared
-however roughly, it is a very economical, wholesome, and
-appetising soup, and costs a minimum of trouble.</p>
-
-<p>I must here add a few words in advocacy of the further
-adoption in this country of the French practice of using
-as <i>potage</i> the water in which vegetables generally (excepting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
-potatoes) have been boiled. When we boil
-cabbages, turnips, carrots, &amp;c., we dissolve out of them a
-very large proportion of their saline constituents; salts
-which are absolutely necessary for the maintenance of
-health; salts without which we become victims of gout,
-rheumatism, lumbago, neuralgia, gravel, and all the ills
-that human flesh with a lithic acid diathesis is heir to;
-<i>i.e.</i> about the most painful series of all its inheritances.
-The potash of these salts existing therein in combination
-with organic acids is separated from these acids by
-organic combustion, and is then and there presented to
-the baneful lithic acid of the blood and tissues, the stony
-torture-particles of which it converts into soluble lithate
-of potash, and thus enables them to be carried out of the
-system.</p>
-
-<p>I know not which of the Fathers of the Church invented
-fast-day and <i>soupe maigre</i>, but could almost suppose
-that he was a scientific monk, a profound alchemist,
-like Basil Valentine, who, in his seekings for the <i>aurum
-potabile</i>, the elixir of life, had learned the beneficent
-action of organic potash salts on the blood, and therefore
-used the authority of the Church to enforce their frequent
-use among the faithful.</p>
-
-<p>The above remarks when published in ‘Knowledge’
-invoked much correspondence, including many inquiries
-for further information concerning the salts that should
-be contained in our food, and in what other form they
-might be obtained.</p>
-
-<p>I therefore add the following, especially as I can
-speak from practical experience of the miseries that may
-be escaped by understanding and applying it. I inherit
-what is called a ‘lithic acid diathesis.’ My father and
-his brothers were martyrs to rheumatic gout, and died
-early in consequence. I had a premonitory attack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
-of gout at the age of twenty-five, and other warning
-symptoms at other times, but have kept the enemy
-at bay during forty years by simply understanding
-that this lithic acid (stony acid) combines with potash,
-forming thus a soluble salt, which is safely excreted.
-Otherwise it is deposited here or there, producing gout,
-rheumatism, stone, gravel, and other dreadfully painful
-diseases, which are practically incurable when the deposit
-is fairly established. By effecting the above-named combination
-in the blood the deposition is <i>prevented</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The potash required for the purpose exists in several
-conditions. First, in its uncombined state as caustic
-potash. This is poison, for the simple reason that it
-combines so vigorously with organic matter that it
-would decompose the digestive organs themselves if
-presented to them. The lower carbonate is less caustic,
-the bicarbonate nearly, but not quite, neutral. Even
-this, however, should not be taken as <i>food</i>, because it is
-capable of combining with the acid constituents of the
-gastric juice.</p>
-
-<p>The proper compounds to be used are those which
-correspond to the salts existing in the juices of vegetables
-and flesh, viz. compounds of potash with <i>organic</i> acids,
-such as tartaric acid, which forms the potash salt of the
-grape; such as citric acid, with which potash is combined
-in lemons and oranges; malic acid, with which it is
-combined in apples and many other fruits; the natural
-acids of vegetables generally; lactic acid in milk, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>All these acids, and many others of similar origin,
-are composed of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen, held
-together with such feeble affinity that they are easily
-dissociated or decomposed by heat. This may be shown
-by heating some cream of tartar or tartaric acid on a
-strip of metal or glass. It will become carbonised to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
-cinder, like other organic matter. If the heat is raised
-sufficiently this cinder will all burn away to carbonic
-acid and water in the case of the pure acid, or will leave
-carbonate of potash if cream of tartar or other potash
-salt is thus burned.</p>
-
-<p>Unless I am mistaken, this represents violently what
-occurs gradually and mildly in the human body, which
-is in a continuous state of slow combustion so long as it
-is alive. The organic acids of the potash salts suffer
-slow combustion, give off their excess of carbonic acid
-and water to be breathed out, evaporated, and ejected,
-leaving behind their potash, which combines with the
-otherwise stony lithic acid just when and where it
-comes into separate existence by the organic actions
-which effect the above-described slow combustion.</p>
-
-<p>If we take potash in combination with a mineral
-acid, such as the sulphuric, nitric, or hydrochloric, no
-such decomposition is possible; the bonds uniting the
-elements of the mineral acid are too strong to be
-sundered by the mild chemistry of the living body, and
-the mineral acid, if separated from its potash base, would
-be most mischievous, as it precipitates the lithic acid in
-its worst form.</p>
-
-<p>For this reason, all free mineral acids are poisons to
-those who have a lithic acid diathesis; they may even
-create it where it did not previously exist. Hence the
-iniquity of cheapening the manufacture of lemonade,
-ginger-beer, &amp;c., by using dilute sulphuric or hydrochloric
-acid as a substitute for citric or tartaric acid. I
-shall presently come to the cookery of wines, and
-have something to say about the mineral acids used
-in producing the choicer qualities of some very ‘dry,’
-high-priced samples which, according to my view of the
-subject, have caused the operations of lithotomy and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
-lithotrity to be included among the luxuries of the
-rich.</p>
-
-<p>It should be understood that when I recommended
-the use of bicarbonate of potash for the solution of
-casein, all these principles were kept in view, including
-the objection to the bicarbonate itself. In the case of
-the cheese, the quantity recommended was based on an
-estimate of the quantity of lactic acid existing in the
-cheese and capable of leaving the casein to go over to
-the potash. In the case of the peas the quantity is difficult
-to estimate, owing to its variability. The more correct
-determination of such quantities is among the objects
-of further research to which I have before alluded.</p>
-
-<p>Speaking generally it is not to the laboratory of the
-chemist that we should go for our potash salts, but to
-the laboratory of nature, and more especially to that of
-the vegetable kingdom. They exist in the green parts
-of all vegetables. This is illustrated by the manufacture
-of commercial potash from the ashes of the twigs and
-leaves of timber trees. The more succulent the vegetable
-the greater the quantity of potash it contains, though
-there are some minor exceptions to this. As I have
-already stated, we extract and waste a considerable
-proportion of these salts when we boil vegetables and
-throw away the <i>potage</i>, which our wiser and more
-thrifty neighbours add to their every-day <i>menu</i>. When
-we eat raw vegetables, as in salads, we obtain all their
-potash.</p>
-
-<p>Fruits generally contain important quantities of potash
-salts, and it is upon these especially that the possible
-victims of lithic acid should rely. Lemons and grapes
-contain them most abundantly. Those who cannot
-afford to buy these as articles of daily food may use
-cream of tartar, which, when genuine, is the natural salt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
-of the grape, thrown down in the manner I shall describe
-when on the subject of the cookery of wines.</p>
-
-<p>At the risk of being accused of presumption, I must
-here protest, as a chemist, against one of ‘the fallacies
-of the faculty,’ or of certain members of the faculty,
-viz. that of indiscriminately prohibiting to gouty and
-rheumatic patients the use of acids or anything having
-an acid taste.</p>
-
-<p>This has probably arisen from experience of the fact
-that <i>mineral</i> acids do serious mischief, and that alkaline
-carbonate of potash affords relief. The difference between
-the organic acids, which are decomposed in the
-manner I have described, and the fixed composition of
-the mineral acids, does not appear to have been sufficiently
-studied by those who prohibit fruit and vegetables on
-account of their acidity. It must never be forgotten
-that nearly all the organic compounds of potash, as they
-exist in vegetables and fruit, are acid. It may be
-desirable, in some cases, to add a little bicarbonate of
-potash to neutralise this excess of acid and increase the
-potash supply. I have found it advantageous to throw
-a half-saltspoonful of this into a tumbler of water containing
-the juice of a lemon, and have even added it to
-stewed or baked rhubarb and gooseberries. In these it
-froths like whipped cream, and diminishes the demand
-for sugar, an excess of which appears to be mischievous
-to those who require much potash.</p>
-
-<p>I must conclude this sermon on the potash text by
-adding that it is quite possible to take an excess of this
-solvent. Such excess is depressing; its action is what
-is called ‘lowering.’ I will not venture upon an explanation
-of the <i>rationale</i> of this lowering, or discuss the
-question of whether or not the blood is made watery, as
-sometimes stated.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Intimately connected with this part of my subject is
-another vegetable principle that I have not yet named.
-This is vegetable jelly, or <i>pectin</i>, the jelly of fruits, of
-turnips, carrots, parsnips, &amp;c. Fremy has named it <i>pectose</i>.
-Like the saline juices of meat it is very little
-changed by cookery. An acid may be separated from
-it which has been named ‘pectic acid,’ the properties and
-artificial compounds of which appear to me to suggest
-the theory that the natural jelly of fruits largely consists
-of compounds of this acid with potash or soda or
-lime. We all know the appearance and flavour of currant
-jelly, apple jelly, &amp;c., which are composed of natural
-vegetable jelly plus sugar.</p>
-
-<p>The separation of these jellies is an operation of
-cookery, and one that deserves more attention than it
-receives. I shall never forget the <i>rahat lakoum</i>, prepared
-for the Sultana, which I once had the privilege of eating in
-the kitchen of the Seraglio of Stamboul, where it was presented
-to me by his Excellency the Grand Confectioner
-as a sample of his masterpiece. Its basis was the pure
-pectose of many fruits, the inspissated juices of grapes,
-peaches, pine-apples, and I know not what others.
-The sherbet was similar, but liquid. Well may they
-obey the Prophet and abstain from the grosser concoctions
-that we call wine when such ambrosial nectar as
-this is supplied in its place! It is to Imperial Tokay
-as tokay is to table-beer! I tasted many other choice
-confections there, and when I find myself defending the
-Turk against his many enemies, my conscience sometimes
-asks whether my politics have been influenced by
-the remembrance of that visit.</p>
-
-<p>The ‘lumps of delight’ sold by our confectioners
-are imitations made of flavoured gelatin. Similar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
-substitutes are sold in Constantinople. The same as
-regards the sherbet.</p>
-
-<p>I conclude this part of my subject by re-echoing Mr.
-Gladstone’s advocacy of the extension of fruit culture.
-We shamefully neglect the best of all food, in eating and
-drinking so little fruit. As regards cooked fruit, I say
-jam for the million, jelly for the luxurious, and juice for
-all. With these in abundance, the abolition of alcoholic
-drinks will follow as a necessary result of natural nausea.</p>
-
-<p>I may add that besides the letters asking for the
-further information here given, I have since received
-several others from readers who have adopted the diet
-above prescribed with good practical results.</p>
-
-<p>I have further learned that vegetarians are remarkably
-free from the lithic acid troubles above named, and
-that many who were sufferers before they became vegetarians
-have subsequently escaped.</p>
-
-<p>The testimony of a large number is demanded in
-such subjects, as individual examples may depend upon
-individual peculiarities of constitution.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a><br />
-
-<small>COUNT RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">I must</span> not leave the subject of vegetable cookery without
-describing Count Rumford’s achievements in feeding
-the paupers, rogues, and vagabonds of Munich. An
-account of this is the more desirable, from the fact that
-the ‘soup’ which formed the basis of his dietary is still
-misunderstood in this country, for reasons that I shall
-presently state.</p>
-
-<p>After reorganising the Bavarian army, not only as
-regards military discipline, but in the feeding, clothing,
-education, and useful employment of the men, in order
-to make them good citizens as well as good soldiers, he
-attacked a still more difficult problem—that of removing
-from Bavaria the scandal and burden of the hordes of
-beggars and thieves which had become intolerable. He
-tells us that ‘the number of itinerant beggars of both
-sexes, and all ages, as well foreigners as natives, who
-strolled about the country in all directions, levying contributions
-from the industrious inhabitants, stealing and
-robbing, and leading a life of indolence and most shameless
-debauchery, was quite incredible;’ and, further, that
-‘these detestable vermin swarmed everywhere, and not
-only their impudence and clamorous importunity were
-without any bounds, but they had recourse to the most
-diabolical acts and most horrid crimes in the prosecution
-of their infamous trade. Young children were stolen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
-from their parents by these wretches, and their eyes put
-out, or their tender limbs broken and distorted, in order,
-by exposing them thus maimed, to excite the pity and
-commiseration of the public.’ He gives further particulars
-of their trading upon the misery of their own
-children, and their organisation to obtain alms by
-systematic intimidation. Previous attempts to cure the
-evil had failed, the public had lost all faith in further
-projects, and therefore no support was to be expected
-for Rumford’s scheme. ‘Aware of this,’ he says, ‘I took
-my measures accordingly. To convince the public that
-the scheme was feasible, I determined first, by a great
-exertion, to carry it into complete execution, and <i>then</i>
-to ask them to support it.’</p>
-
-<p>He describes the military organisation by which he
-distributed the army throughout the country districts to
-capture all the strolling provincial beggars, and how, on
-Jan. 1, 1790, he bagged all the beggars of Munich in less
-than an hour by means of a well-organised civil and
-military <i>battue</i>, New Year’s Day being the great festival
-when all the beggars went abroad to enforce their
-customary black-mail upon the industrious section of
-the population. Though very interesting, I must not
-enter upon these details, but cannot help stepping a
-little aside from my proper subject to quote his weighty
-words on the ethical principles upon which he proceeded.
-He says that ‘with persons of this description, it is easy
-to be conceived that precepts, admonitions, and punishments
-would be of little avail. But where precepts fail,
-<i>habits</i> may sometimes be successful. To make vicious
-and abandoned people happy, it has generally been supposed
-necessary, <i>first</i>, to make them virtuous. But why
-not reverse this order? Why not make them first <i>happy</i>
-and then virtuous? If happiness and virtue be <i>inseparable</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
-the end will as certainly be attained by one
-method as by the other; and it is most undoubtedly
-much easier to contribute to the happiness and comfort
-of persons in a state of poverty and misery than,
-by admonitions and punishments, to improve their
-morals.’</p>
-
-<p>He applied these principles to his miserable material
-with complete success, and, referring to the result, exclaims,
-‘Would to God that my success might encourage
-others to follow my example!’ Further examination
-of his proceedings shows that, in order to follow such
-example, a knowledge of first principles and a determination
-to carry them out in bold defiance of vulgar
-ignorance, general prejudice, and, vilest of all, polite
-sneering, is necessary.</p>
-
-<p>Having captured the beggars thus cleverly, he proceeded
-to carry out the above-stated principle by taking
-them to a large building already prepared, where
-‘everything was done that could be devised to make
-them <i>really comfortable</i>.’ The first condition of such
-comfort, he maintains, is cleanliness, and his dissertation
-on this, though written so long ago, might be quoted in
-letters of gold by our sanitarians of to-day.</p>
-
-<p>Describing how he carried out his principles, he says
-of the prisoners thus captured: ‘Most of them had
-been used to living in the most miserable hovels, in the
-midst of vermin and every kind of filthiness, or to sleep
-in the streets and under the hedges, half naked and
-exposed to all the inclemencies of the seasons. A large
-and commodious building, fitted up in the neatest and
-most comfortable manner, was now provided for their
-reception. In this agreeable retreat they found spacious
-and elegant apartments kept with the most scrupulous
-neatness; well warmed in winter and well lighted; a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
-good warm dinner every day, <i>gratis</i>, cooked and served
-up with all possible attention to order and cleanliness;
-materials and utensils for those that were able to work;
-masters <i>gratis</i> for those who required instruction; the
-most generous pay, <i>in money</i>, for all the labour performed;
-and the kindest usage from every person, from
-the highest to the lowest, belonging to the establishment.
-Here in this asylum for the indigent and unfortunate,
-no ill-usage, no harsh language is permitted.
-During five years that the establishment has existed, not
-a blow has been given to anyone, not even to a child by
-his instructor.’</p>
-
-<p>This appears like the very expensive scheme of a
-benevolent utopian; but, to set my readers at rest on
-this point, I will anticipate a little by stating that,
-although at first some expense was incurred, all this was
-finally repaid, and, at the end of six years, there remained
-a net profit of 100,000 florins, ‘after expenses
-of every kind, salaries, wages, repairs, &amp;c., had been
-deducted.’</p>
-
-<p>When will <i>our</i> workhouses be administered with
-similar results?</p>
-
-<p>I must not dwell upon his devices for gradually
-inveigling the lazy creatures into habits of industry, for
-he understood human nature too well to adopt the
-gaoler’s theory, which assumes that every able-bodied
-man can do a day’s work daily, in spite of previous
-habits. Rumford’s patients became industrious ultimately,
-but were not made so at once.</p>
-
-<p>This development of industry was one of the elements
-of financial and moral success, and the next in importance
-was the economy of the commissariat, which
-depended on Rumford’s skilful cookery of the cheapest
-viands, rendering them digestible, nutritious, and palatable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
-Had he adopted the dietary of an English workhouse
-or an English prison, his financial success would
-have been impossible, and his patients would have been
-no better fed, nor better able to work.</p>
-
-<p>The staple food was what he calls a ‘soup,’ but I
-find, on following out his instructions for making it, that
-I obtain a porridge rather than a soup. He made many
-experiments, and says: ‘I constantly found that the
-richness or quality of a soup depended more upon a
-proper choice of the ingredients, and a proper management
-of the fire in the combination of these ingredients,
-than upon the quantity of solid nutritious matter employed;—much
-more upon the art and skill of the cook
-than upon the sum laid out in the market.’</p>
-
-<p>Our vegetarian friends will be interested in learning
-that at first he used meat in the soup provided for the
-beggars, but gradually omitted it, and the change was
-unnoticed by those who ate, and no difference was
-observable as regards its nutritive value.</p>
-
-<p>In 1790, little, or rather nothing, was known of the
-chemistry of food. Oxygen had been discovered only
-sixteen years before, and chemical analysis, as now
-understood, was an unknown art. In spite of this
-Rumford selected as the basis of his soup just that
-proximate element which we now know to be one of
-the most nutritious that he could have obtained from
-either the animal or vegetable kingdom—viz. <i>casein</i>.
-He not only selected this, but he combined it with those
-other constituents of food which our highest refinements
-of modern practical chemistry and physiology
-have proved to be exactly what are required to supplement
-the casein and constitute a complete dietary. By
-selecting the cheapest form of casein and the cheapest
-sources of the other constituents, he succeeded in supplying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
-the beggars with good hot dinners daily at the cost
-of less than one halfpenny each. The cost of the mess
-for the Bavarian soldiers under his command was rather
-more, viz. twopence daily, three farthings of this being
-devoted to pure luxuries, such as beer, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>Some of his chemical speculations, however, have not
-been confirmed. The composition of water had just
-been discovered, and he found by experience that a
-given quantity of solid food was more satisfying to the
-appetite and more effective in nutrition when made into
-soup by long boiling with water. This led him to suppose
-that the water itself was decomposed by cookery,
-and its elements recombined or united with other elements,
-and thus became nutritious by being converted
-into the tissues of plants and animals.</p>
-
-<p>Thus, speaking of the barley which formed an important
-constituent of his soup, he says: ‘It requires, it is
-true, a great deal of boiling; but when it is properly
-managed, it thickens a vast quantity of water, and, as I
-suppose, <i>prepares it for decomposition</i>’ (the italics are his
-own).</p>
-
-<p>We now know that this idea of decomposing water by
-such means is a mistake; but, in my own opinion, there
-is something behind it which still remains to be learned
-by modern chemists. In my endeavours to fathom the
-<i>rationale</i> of the changes which occur in cookery, I have
-been (as my readers will remember) continually driven
-into hypotheses of hydration, <i>i.e.</i> of supposing that some
-of the water used in cookery unites to form true chemical
-compounds with certain of the constituents of the
-food. As already stated, when I commenced this subject
-I had no idea of its suggestiveness, of the wide field of
-research which it has opened out. One of these lines
-of research is the determination of the nature of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
-hydration of cooked gelatin, fibrin, cellulose, casein,
-starch, legumin, &amp;c. That water is <i>with</i> them when they
-are cooked is evident enough, but whether that water is
-brought into actual chemical combination with them in
-such wise as to form new compounds of additional nutritive
-value proportionate to the chemical addition of
-water, demands so much investigation that I have been
-driven to merely theorise where I ought to have demonstrated.</p>
-
-<p>The fact that the living body which our food is building
-up and renewing contains about 80 per cent. of water,
-some of it combined, and some of it uncombined, has a
-notable bearing on the question. We may yet learn that
-hydration and dehydration have more to do with the
-vital functions than has hitherto been supposed.</p>
-
-<p>The following are the ingredients used by Rumford
-in ‘Soup No. 1’:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Soup ingredients">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="2"><small>Weight<br />Avoirdupois.</small></td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3"><small>Cost.</small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">lbs.</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">oz.</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">£</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad"><i>s.</i></td>
-<td align="center" class="pad"><i>d.</i></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">4 <i>viertels</i> of pearl barley, equal to about 20⅓ gallons</td>
-<td align="right">141</td>
-<td align="right">2</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">11</td>
-<td align="right">7½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">4 <i>viertels</i> of peas</td>
-<td align="right">131</td>
-<td align="right">4</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">7</td>
-<td align="right">3¼</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Cuttings of fine wheaten bread</td>
-<td align="right">69</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-<td align="right">2¼</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Salt</td>
-<td align="right">19</td>
-<td align="right">13</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">2½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left"><div class="hang1">24 <i>maass</i>, very weak beer, vinegar, or rather small beer turned sour, about 24 quarts</div></td>
-<td align="right">46</td>
-<td align="right">13</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">5½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Water, about 560 quarts</td>
-<td align="right">1,077</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3">&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="2">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">1,485</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">11</td>
-<td align="right">9&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="2">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Fuel, 88 lbs. dry pine wood</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">2¼</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Wages of three cook maids, at 20 florins a year each</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">3⅔</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Daily expense of feeding the three cook maids, at 10 creutzers (3⅔ pence sterling) each, according to agreement</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">11&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Daily wages of two men servants</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">7¼</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Repairs of kitchen furniture (90 florins per ann.) daily</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">5½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Total daily expenses when dinner is provided for 1,200 persons</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">15</td>
-<td align="right">2⅔</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>This amounts to <small><sup>422</sup>/<sub>1200</sub></small>, or a trifle more than ⅓ of a
-penny for each dinner of this No. 1 soup. The cost was
-still further reduced by the use of the potato, then a
-novelty, concerning which Rumford makes the following
-remarks, now very curious. ‘So strong was the aversion
-of the public, particularly the poor, against them at the
-time when we began to make use of them in the public
-kitchen of the House of Industry in Munich, that we
-were absolutely obliged, at first, to introduce them by
-stealth. A private room in a retired corner was fitted
-up as a kitchen for cooking them; and it was necessary
-to disguise them, by boiling them down entirely, and
-destroying their form and texture, to prevent their being
-detected.’ The following are the ingredients of ‘Soup
-No. 2,’ with potatoes:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="soup with potatoes">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="2" class="pad">Weight<br />Avoirdupois.</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3" class="pad">Cost.</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">lbs.</td>
-<td align="right">oz.</td>
-<td align="center" class="pad">£</td>
-<td align="center"><i>s.</i></td>
-<td align="center" class="pad"><i>d.</i></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">2 <i>viertels</i> of pearl barley</td>
-<td align="right">70</td>
-<td align="right">9</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">5</td>
-<td align="right">9<small><sup>13</sup>/<sub>22</sub></small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">2 <i>viertels</i> of peas</td>
-<td align="right">65</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">3</td>
-<td align="right">7⅝&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">8 <i>viertels</i> of potatoes</td>
-<td align="right">230</td>
-<td align="right">4</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">9<small><sup>9</sup>/<sub>11</sub></small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Cuttings of bread</td>
-<td align="right">69</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-<td align="right">2<small><sup>4</sup>/<sub>11</sub></small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Salt</td>
-<td align="right">19</td>
-<td align="right">13</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">2½&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Vinegar</td>
-<td align="right">46</td>
-<td align="right">13</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">5½&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Water</td>
-<td align="right">982</td>
-<td align="right">15</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3">&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">Fuel, servants, repairs, &amp;c., as before</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">3</td>
-<td align="right">5<small><sup>5</sup>/<sub>12</sub></small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="3">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="3"><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Total daily cost of 1,200 dinners</span></td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">7</td>
-<td align="right">6⅔</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<p>This reduces the cost to a little above one farthing
-per dinner.</p>
-
-<p>In the essay from which the above is quoted, there
-is another account, reducing all the items to what they
-would cost in London in November 1795, which raises
-the amount to 2¾ farthings per portion for No. 1, and
-2½ farthings for No. 2. In this estimate the expenses
-for fuel, servants, kitchen furniture, &amp;c. are stated at
-three times as much as the cost at Munich, and the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
-items at the prices stated in the printed report of the
-Board of Agriculture of November 10, 1795.</p>
-
-<p>But since 1795 we have made great progress in the
-right direction. Bread then cost one shilling per loaf,
-barley and peas about 50 per cent. more than at present,
-salt is set down by Rumford at 1¼<i>d.</i> per lb. (now about
-one farthing). Fuel was also dearer. But wages have
-risen greatly. As stated in money, they are about doubled
-(in purchasing power—<i>i.e.</i> real wages—they are threefold).
-Making all these allowances, charging wages at
-six times those paid by him, I find that the present cost
-of Rumford’s No. 1 soup would be a little over one halfpenny
-per portion, and No. 2 just about one halfpenny.
-I here assume that Rumford’s directions for the construction
-of kitchen fireplaces and economy of fuel are
-carried out. We are in these matters still a century
-behind his arrangements of 1790, and nothing short of
-a coal-famine will punish and cure our criminal extravagance.</p>
-
-<p>The cookery of the above-named ingredients is conducted
-as follows: ‘The water and pearl barley first
-put together in the boiler and made to boil, the peas are
-then added, and the boiling is continued over a gentle
-fire about two hours; the potatoes are then added
-(peeled), and the boiling is continued for about one hour
-more, during which time the contents of the boiler are
-frequently stirred about with a large wooden spoon or
-ladle, in order to destroy the texture of the potatoes,
-and to reduce the soup to one uniform mass. When
-this is done, the vinegar and salt are added; and, last of
-all, at the moment that it is to be served up, the cuttings
-of bread.’ No. 1 is to be cooked for three hours without
-the potatoes.</p>
-
-<p>As already stated, I have found, in carrying out these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
-instructions, that I obtain a <i>purée</i> or porridge rather than
-a soup. I found the No. 1 to be excellent, No. 2 inferior.
-It was better when very small potatoes were used;
-they became more jellied, and the <i>purée</i> altogether had
-less of the granular texture of mashed potatoes. I found
-it necessary to conduct the whole of the cooking myself;
-the inveterate kitchen superstition concerning simmering
-and boiling, the belief that anything rapidly boiling is
-hotter than when it simmers, and is therefore cooking
-more quickly, compels the non-scientific cook to shorten
-the tedious three-hour process by boiling. This boiling
-drives the water from below, bakes the lower stratum of
-the porridge, and spoils the whole. The ordinary cook,
-were she ‘at the strappado, or all the racks in the world,’
-would not keep anything barely boiling for three hours
-with no visible result. According to her positive and
-superlative experience, the mess is cooked sufficiently in
-one-third of the time, as soon as the peas are softened.
-She don’t, and she won’t, and she can’t, and she shan’t
-understand anything about hydration. ‘When it’s done,
-it’s done, and there’s an end to it, and what more do you
-want?’ Hence the failures of the attempts to introduce
-Rumford’s porridge in our English workhouses, prisons,
-and soup kitchens. I find, when I make it myself, that
-it is incomparably superior and far cheaper than the
-‘skilly’ at present provided, though the sample of skilly
-that I tasted was superior to the ordinary slop.</p>
-
-<p>The weight of each portion, as served to the beggars,
-&amp;c., was 19·9 oz. (1 Bavarian pound); the solid matter
-contained was 6 oz. of No. 2, or 4¾ oz. of No. 1, and
-Rumford states that this ‘is quite sufficient to make a
-good meal for a strong, healthy person,’ as ‘abundantly
-proved by long experience.’ He insists, again and again,
-upon the necessity of the three-hours’ cooking, and I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
-equally convinced of its necessity, though, as above explained,
-not on the same theoretical grounds. No repetition
-of his experience is fair unless this be attended to.
-I have no hesitation in affirming that the 4¾ oz. of No. 1,
-when thus boiled for 3 hours, will supply more nutriment
-than 6 oz. boiled only 1½ hour.</p>
-
-<p>The bread should <i>not</i> be cooked, but added just
-before serving the soup. In reference to this he has
-published a very curious essay, entitled ‘Of the Pleasure
-of Eating, and of the Means that may be Employed for
-Increasing it.’</p>
-
-<p>Rumford used wood as fuel, and his kitchen-ranges
-were constructed of brickwork with a separate fire for
-each pot, the pot being set in in the brickwork immediately
-above the fireplace in such manner that the flame
-and heated products of combustion surrounded the pot
-on their way to the exit flue. The quantity of fuel was
-adjusted to each operation, and with wood embers a long
-sustained moderate heat was easily obtained.</p>
-
-<p>With coal-fires such separate firing would be troublesome,
-as coal cannot be so easily kindled on requirement
-as wood. With our roaring, wasteful kitchen furnaces
-and still more wasteful cooks, the long-sustained moderate
-heat is not practicable without some further device.
-I found that, by using a ‘milk scalder,’ which is a water-bath
-similar to a glue-pot, but on a large scale, I could
-obtain Rumford’s results over a common kitchen-range
-with very little trouble, and no risk of baking the bottom
-part of the porridge.</p>
-
-<p>I further found that even a longer period of stewing
-than he prescribes is desirable.</p>
-
-<p>I made a hearty meal on No. 1 soup, and found it
-as satisfactory as any dinner of meat, potatoes, &amp;c., of
-any number of courses; and, as a chemist, I assert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
-without any hesitation, that such a meal is demonstrably
-of equal or superior nutritive value to an ordinary Englishman’s
-slice of beef diluted with potatoes. The No. 2
-soup is not so satisfactory. Rumford was wrong in his
-estimate of the value of potatoes.</p>
-
-<p>In the formula for Rumford’s soup it is stated that the
-bread should not be cooked, but added just before serving
-the soup. Like everything else in his practical programmes,
-this was prescribed with a philosophical reason.
-His reasons may have been fanciful sometimes, but he
-never acted stupidly, as the vulgar majority of mankind
-usually do when they blindly follow an established
-custom without knowing any reason for so doing, or
-even attempting to discover a reason.</p>
-
-<p>In his essay on ‘The Pleasure of Eating, and of the
-Means that may be Employed for Increasing it,’ he
-says: ‘The pleasure enjoyed in eating depends, first,
-on the agreeableness of the taste of the food; and,
-secondly, upon its power to affect the palate. Now,
-there are many substances extremely cheap, by which
-very agreeable tastes may be given to food, particularly
-when the basis or nutritive substance of the food is
-tasteless; and the effect of any kind of palatable solid
-food (of meat, for instance) upon the organs of taste
-may be increased, almost indefinitely, by reducing the
-size of the particles of such food, and causing it to act
-upon the palate by a larger surface. And if means be
-used to prevent its being swallowed too soon, which may
-easily be done by mixing it with some hard and tasteless
-substance, such as crumbs of bread rendered hard by
-toasting, or anything else of that kind, by which a long
-mastication is rendered necessary, the enjoyment of
-eating may be greatly increased and prolonged.’ He
-adds that ‘the idea of occupying a person a great while,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
-and affording him much pleasure at the same time in
-eating a small quantity of food, may perhaps appear
-ridiculous to some; but those who consider the matter
-attentively will perceive that it is very important. It is
-perhaps as much so as anything that can employ the
-attention of the philosopher.’</p>
-
-<p>Further on he adds: ‘If a glutton can be made to
-gormandise two hours upon two ounces of meat, it is
-certainly much better for him than to give himself an
-indigestion by eating two pounds in the same time.’</p>
-
-<p>This is amusing as well as instructive; so also are his
-researches into what I may venture to describe as the
-<i>specific sapidity</i> of different kinds of food, which he determined
-by diluting or intermixing them with insipid
-materials, and thereby ascertaining the amount of surface
-over which they might be spread before their particular
-flavour disappeared. He concluded that a red
-herring has the highest specific sapidity—<i>i.e.</i> the greatest
-amount of flavour in a given weight of any kind of food
-he had tested, and that, comparing it on the basis of
-cost for cost, its superiority is still greater.</p>
-
-<p>He tells us that ‘the pleasure of eating depends very
-much indeed upon the <i>manner</i> in which the food is
-applied to the organs of taste,’ and that he considers
-‘it necessary to mention, and even to illustrate in the
-clearest manner, every circumstance which appears to
-have influence in producing these important effects.’ As
-an example of this, I may quote his instructions for
-eating hasty pudding: ‘The pudding is then eaten
-with a spoon, each spoonful of it being dipped into the
-sauce before it is carried to the mouth, care being had in
-taking it up to begin on the outside, or near the brim of
-the plate, and to approach the centre by regular advances,
-in order not to demolish too soon the excavation which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
-forms the reservoir for the sauce.’ His solid Indian-corn
-pudding is, in like manner, ‘to be eaten with a
-knife and fork, beginning at the circumference of the
-slice, and approaching regularly towards the centre, each
-piece of pudding being taken up with the fork and
-dipped into the butter, or dipped into it <i>in part only</i>,
-before it is carried to the mouth.’</p>
-
-<p>As a supplement to the cheap soup recipes I will
-quote one which Rumford gives as the cheapest food
-which in his opinion can be provided in England: Take
-of water 8 gallons, mix it with 5 lbs. of barley-meal,
-boil it to the consistency of a thick jelly. Season with
-salt, vinegar, pepper, sweet herbs, and four red herrings
-pounded in a mortar. Instead of bread, add 5 lbs. of
-Indian corn made into a <i>samp</i>, and stir it together with
-a ladle. Serve immediately in portions of 20 oz.</p>
-
-<p><i>Samp</i> is ‘said to have been invented by the savages
-of North America, who have no corn-mills.’ It is
-Indian corn deprived of its external coat by soaking
-it ten or twelve hours in a lixivium of water and wood
-ashes.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> This coat or husk, being separated from the
-kernel, rises to the surface of the water, while the grain
-remains at the bottom. The separated kernel is stewed
-for about two days in a kettle of water placed near the
-fire. ‘When sufficiently cooked, the kernels will be
-found to be swelled to a great size and burst open, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
-this food, which is uncommonly sweet and nourishing,
-may be used in a great variety of ways; but the best
-way of using it is to mix it with milk, and with soups
-and broths as a substitute for bread.’ He prefers it to
-bread because ‘it requires more mastication, and consequently
-tends more to prolong the pleasure of eating.’</p>
-
-<p>The cost of this soup he estimates as follows:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="cost of soup estimate">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right"><i>s.</i></td>
-<td align="right"><i>d.</i></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">5 lbs. barley meal, at 1½<i>d.</i> per. lb., or 5<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> per bushel</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">7½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">5 lbs. Indian corn, at 1¼<i>d.</i> per lb.</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">6¼</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">4 red herrings</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">3&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Vinegar</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Salt</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Pepper and sweet herbs</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">2&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">8¾</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="unindent">This makes 64 portions, which thus cost rather less than
-one-third of a penny each. As prices were higher then
-than now, it comes down to little more than one farthing,
-or one-third of a penny, as stated, when cost of preparation
-in making on a large scale is included. I have
-not been successful in making this soup; failed in the
-‘samp,’ as explained in the foot-note. By substituting
-‘raspings’ (the coarse powder rasped off the surface of
-rolls or over-baked loaves) or bread-crumbs browned in
-an oven, I obtain a fair result for those who have no
-objection to a diffused flavour of red herring.</p>
-
-<p>By using grated cheese instead of the herring, as
-well as substituting bread-crumbs or raspings for the
-Indian corn, I have completely succeeded; but for
-economy and quality combined, the No. 1 soup, as
-supplied at Munich, is preferable.</p>
-
-<p>The feeding of the Bavarian soldiers is stated in
-detail in vol. i. of Rumford’s ‘Essays.’ I take one
-characteristic example. It is from an official report on
-experiments made ‘in obedience to the orders of Lieut.-General<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
-Count Rumford, by Sergeant Wickelhof’s mess,
-in the first company of the first (or Elector’s Own) regiment
-of Grenadiers at Munich.’</p>
-
-<div class="center"><span class="smcap">June 10, 1795.—Bill of Fare.</span><br />
-Boiled beef, with soup and bread dumplings.<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Details of the Expense.</span><br />
-First, for the boiled beef and the soup.</div>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="beef and soup">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left"><small>lb.&nbsp;&nbsp;</small></td>
-<td align="left"><small>loths.</small></td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left"><small>Creutzers.</small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">2</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">0 beef</td>
-<td align="center">16</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">0</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">1 sweet herbs</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;1</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">0</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">0¼ pepper</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;0½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">0</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">6 salt</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;0½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">1</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">14½ ammunition bread cut fine</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;2⅞</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">9</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">20 water</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;0</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Total&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">13</td>
-<td align="left">9¾</td>
-<td align="right">Cost</td>
-<td align="center">20⅞</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<p>The Bavarian pound is a little less than 1¼ lb. avoirdupois,
-and is divided into 32 loths.</p>
-
-<p>All these were put into an earthenware pot and boiled
-for two hours and a quarter; then divided into twelve
-portions of 26<small><sup>7</sup>/<sub>12</sub></small> loths each, costing 1¾ creutzer.</p>
-
-<p>Second, for the bread dumpling.</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="bread dumpling statistics">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left"><small>lb.</small></td>
-<td align="left"><small>loths.</small></td>
-<td>&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left"><small>Creutzers.</small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">10&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">13 f fine semel bread</td>
-<td align="center">10</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">1</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">0 of fine flour</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;4½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">0</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">6 salt</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;0½</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">3</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">0 water</td>
-<td align="center">0</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-<td>&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Total&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">5</td>
-<td align="left">19</td>
-<td align="right">Cost</td>
-<td align="center">15</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<p>This mass was made into dumplings, which were
-boiled half an hour in clear water. Upon taking them
-out of the water they were found to weigh 5 lbs. 24 loths,
-giving 15⅓ loths to each portion, costing 1¼ creutzer.</p>
-
-<p>The meat, soup, and dumplings were served all at
-once, in the same dish, and were all eaten together at
-dinner. Each member of the mess was also supplied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
-with 10 loths of rye bread, which cost <small><sup>5</sup>/<sub>16</sub></small> of a creutzer.
-Also with 10 loths of the same for breakfast, another
-piece of same weight in the afternoon, and another for
-his supper.</p>
-
-<p>A detailed analysis of this is given, the sum total
-of which shows that each man received in avoirdupois
-weight daily:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="avoirdupois weight daily">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">lb.&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">oz.</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">2</td>
-<td align="left">2<small><sup>34</sup>/<sub>100</sub></small> of solids</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">1</td>
-<td align="left">2<small><sup>84</sup>/<sub>100</sub></small> of ‘prepared water’</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="2">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">3</td>
-<td align="left">5<small><sup>18</sup>/<sub>100</sub></small> total solids and fluids.</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-<p class="unindent">which cost 5<small><sup>17</sup>/<sub>48</sub></small> creutzers, or twopence sterling, very
-nearly. Other bills of fare of other messes, officially
-reported, give about the same. This is exclusive of the
-cost of fuel, &amp;c., for cooking.</p>
-
-<p>All who are concerned in soup-kitchens or other
-economic dietaries should carefully study the details
-supplied in these ‘Essays’ of Count Rumford; they are
-thoroughly practical, and, although nearly a century old,
-are highly instructive at the present day. With their
-aid large basins of good, nutritious soup might be supplied
-at one penny per basin, leaving a profit for establishment
-expenses; and if such were obtainable at
-Billingsgate, Smithfield, Leadenhall, Covent Garden,
-and other markets in London and the provinces, where
-poor men are working at early hours on cold mornings,
-the dram-drinking which prevails so fatally in such
-places would be more effectually superseded than by
-any temperance missions, which are limited to mere
-talking. Such soup is incomparably better than tea or
-coffee. It should be included in the bill of fare of all
-the coffee-palaces and such-like establishments.</p>
-
-<p>Since the above appeared in ‘Knowledge,’ I have
-had much correspondence with ladies and gentlemen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
-who are benevolently exerting themselves in the good
-work of providing cheap dinners for poor school-children
-and poor people generally. I may mention particularly
-the Rev. W. Moore Ede, Rector of Gateshead-on-Tyne,
-a pioneer in the ‘Penny Dinner’ movement, and who
-has published a valuable penny tract on the subject,
-‘Cheap Food and Cheap Cookery,’ which I recommend
-to all his fellow-workers. (He supplies distribution
-copies at 6<i>d.</i> per 100.) His ‘Penny Dinner Cooker,’
-now commercially supplied by Messrs. Walker and
-Emley, Newcastle, overcomes the difficulties I have
-described in the slow cookery of Rumford’s soup. It
-is a double vessel on the glue-pot principle, heated by
-gas.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a><br />
-
-<small>COUNT RUMFORD’S SUBSTITUTE FOR TEA AND COFFEE.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">Take</span> eight parts by weight of meal (Rumford says
-‘wheat or rye meal,’ and I add, or oatmeal), and one
-part of butter. Melt the butter in a clean <i>iron</i> frying-pan,
-and, when thus melted, sprinkle the meal into it;
-stir the whole briskly with a broad wooden spoon or
-spatula till the butter has disappeared and the meal is
-of a uniform brown colour, like roasted coffee, great
-care being taken to prevent burning on the bottom
-of the pan. About half an ounce of this roasted meal
-boiled in a pint of water, and seasoned with salt, pepper,
-and vinegar, forms ‘burnt soup,’ much used by the wood-cutters
-of Bavaria, who work in the mountains far away
-from any habitations. Their provisions for a week (the
-time they commonly remain in the mountains) consist of
-a large loaf of rye bread (which, as it does not so soon
-grow dry and stale as wheaten bread, is always preferred
-to it); a linen bag, containing a small quantity of roasted
-meal, prepared as above; another small bag of salt, and
-a small wooden box containing some pounded black
-pepper; and sometimes, but not often, a small bottle of
-vinegar; but <i>black pepper</i> is an ingredient never omitted.
-The rye bread, which eaten alone or with cold water
-would be very hard fare, is rendered palatable and
-satisfactory, Rumford thinks also more wholesome and
-nutritious, by the help of a bowl of hot soup, so easily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
-prepared from the roasted meal. He tells us that this is
-not only used by the wood-cutters, but that it is also the
-common breakfast of the Bavarian peasant, and adds
-that ‘it is infinitely preferable, in all respects, to that
-most pernicious wash, <i>tea</i>, with which the lower classes
-of the inhabitants of this island drench their stomachs
-and ruin their constitutions.’ He adds that ‘when tea is
-taken with a sufficient quantity of sugar and good cream,
-and with a large quantity of bread-and-butter, or with
-toast and boiled eggs, and, above all, <i>when it is not
-drunk too hot</i>, it is certainly less unwholesome; but a
-simple infusion of this drug, drunk boiling hot, as the
-poor usually take it, is certainly a poison, which, though
-it is sometimes slow in its operation, never fails to produce
-fatal effects, even in the strongest constitutions,
-where the free use of it is continued for a considerable
-length of time.’</p>
-
-<p>This may appear to many a very strong condemnation
-of their favourite beverage; nevertheless, I am
-satisfied that it is sound; and my opinion is not hastily
-adopted, nor borrowed from Rumford, but a conclusion
-based upon many observations, extending over a long
-period of years, and confirmed by experiments made
-upon myself.</p>
-
-<p>I therefore strongly recommend this substitute, especially
-as so many of us have to submit to the beneficent
-domestic despotism of the gentler and more persevering
-sex, one of the common forms of this despotism being
-that of not permitting its male victim to drink cold
-water at breakfast. This burnt soup has the further
-advantage of rendering imperative the boiling of the
-water, a most important precaution against the perils of
-sewage contamination, not removable by mere filtration.</p>
-
-<p>The experience of every confirmed tea-drinker, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
-soundly interpreted, supplies condemnation of his beverage;
-the plea commonly urged on its behalf being,
-when understood, an eloquent expression of such condemnation.
-‘It is so refreshing;’ ‘I am fit for nothing
-when tea-time comes round until I have had my tea, and
-then I am fit for anything.’ The ‘fit for nothing’ state
-comes on at 5 <small>P.M.</small>, when the drug is taken at the
-orthodox time, or even in the early morning, in the case
-of those who are accustomed to have a cup of tea brought
-to their bedside before rising. Some will even plead for
-tea by telling that by its aid one can sit up all night
-long at brain-work without feeling sleepy, provided
-ample supplies of the infusion are taken from time to
-time.</p>
-
-<p>It is unquestionably true that such may be done;
-that the tea-drinker is languid and weary at tea-time,
-whatever be the hour, and that the refreshment produced
-by ‘the cup that cheers’ and is <i>said</i> not to inebriate, is
-almost instantaneous.</p>
-
-<p>What is the true significance of these facts?</p>
-
-<p>The refreshment is certainly not due to nutrition, not
-to the rebuilding of any worn-out or exhausted organic
-tissue. The total quantity of material conveyed from
-the tea-leaves into the water is ridiculously too small for
-the performance of any such nutritive function; and
-besides this, the action is far too rapid, there is not sufficient
-time for the conversion of even that minute quantity
-into organised working tissue. The action cannot be
-that of a food, but is purely and simply that of a stimulating
-or irritant drug, acting directly and abnormally
-on the nervous system.</p>
-
-<p>The five-o’clock lassitude and craving is neither more
-nor less than the reaction induced by the habitual
-abnormal stimulation; or otherwise, and quite fairly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
-stated, it is the outward symptom of a diseased condition
-of brain produced by the action of a drug; it
-may be but a mild form of disease, but it is truly a
-disease nevertheless.</p>
-
-<p>The active principle which produces this result is the
-crystalline alkaloid, the <i>theine</i>,<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> a compound belonging
-to the same class as strychnine and a number of similar
-vegetable poisons. These, when diluted, act medicinally—that
-is, produce disturbance of normal functions as the
-tea does, and, like theine, most of them act specially on
-the nervous system; when concentrated they are dreadful
-poisons, very small doses causing death. The volatile
-oil, of which tea contains about 1 per cent., probably
-contributes to this effect. Johnston attributes the headaches
-and giddiness to which tea-tasters are subject to
-this oil, and also ‘the attacks of paralysis to which, after
-a few years, those who are employed in packing and unpacking
-chests of tea are found to be liable.’ As both
-the alkaloid and the oil are volatile, I suspect that they
-jointly contribute to these disturbances, the narcotic
-business being done by the volatile oil, the paralysis
-supplied by the alkaloid.</p>
-
-<p>The non-tea-drinker does not suffer any of the five-o’clock
-symptoms, and, if otherwise in sound health,
-remains in steady working condition until his day’s work
-is ended and the time for rest and sleep arrives. But the
-habitual victim of any kind of drug or disturber of normal
-functions acquires a diseased condition, displayed by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
-loss of vitality or other deviation from normal function,
-which is temporarily relieved by the usual dose of the
-drug, but only in such wise as to generate a renewed
-craving. I include in this general statement all the
-vice-drugs (to coin a general name), such as alcohol,
-opium, tobacco (whether smoked, chewed, or snuffed),
-arsenic, haschisch, betel-nut, coca-leaf, thorn-apple, Siberian
-fungus, maté, &amp;c., all of which are excessively ‘refreshing’
-to their victims, and of which the use may be,
-and has been, defended by the same arguments as those
-used by the advocates of habitual tea-drinking.</p>
-
-<p>Speaking generally, the reaction or residual effect of
-these on the system is nearly the opposite of that of
-their immediate effect, and thus larger and larger doses
-are demanded to bring the system to its normal condition.
-The non-tea-drinker or moderate drinker is kept
-awake by a cup of tea or coffee taken late at night,
-while the hard drinker of these beverages scarcely feels
-any effect, especially if accustomed to take it at that
-time.</p>
-
-<p>The practice of taking tea or coffee by students, in
-order to work at night, is downright madness, especially
-when preparing for an examination. More than half of
-the cases of breakdown, loss of memory, fainting, &amp;c.,
-which occur during severe examinations, and far more
-frequently than is commonly known, are due to this.</p>
-
-<p>I continually hear of promising students who have
-thus failed; and, on inquiry, have learned—in almost
-every instance—that the victim has previously drugged
-himself with tea or coffee. Sleep is the rest of the brain;
-to rob the hard-worked brain of its necessary rest is
-cerebral suicide.</p>
-
-<p>My old friend, the late Thomas Wright (the archæologist),
-was a victim of this terrible folly. He undertook<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
-the translation of the ‘Life of Julius Cæsar,’ by
-Napoleon III., and to do it in a cruelly short time. He
-fulfilled his contract by sitting up several nights successively
-by the aid of strong tea or coffee (I forget which).
-I saw him shortly afterwards. In a few weeks he had
-aged alarmingly, had become quite bald; his brain gave
-way and never recovered. There was but little difference
-between his age and mine, and but for this
-dreadful cerebral strain, rendered possible only by the
-stimulant (for otherwise he would have fallen to sleep
-over his work, and thereby saved his life), he might still
-be amusing and instructing thousands of readers by fresh
-volumes of popularised archæological research.</p>
-
-<p>I need scarcely add that all I have said above applies
-to coffee as to tea, though not so seriously <i>in this country</i>.
-The active alkaloid is the same in both, but tea contains
-weight for weight above twice as much as coffee. In
-this country we commonly use about 50 per cent. more
-coffee than tea to each given measure of water. On the
-Continent they use about double our quantity (this is
-the true secret of ‘Coffee as in France’), and thus
-produce as potent an infusion as our tea.</p>
-
-<p>I need scarcely add that the above remarks are exclusively
-applied to the <i>habitual</i> use of these stimulants.
-As medicines, used occasionally and judiciously, they are
-invaluable, provided always that they are not used as
-ordinary beverages. In Italy, Greece, and some parts of
-the East, it is customary, when anybody feels ill with
-indefinite symptoms, to send to the druggist for a dose
-of tea. From what I have seen of its action on non-tea-drinkers,
-it appears to be specially potent in arresting the
-premonitory symptoms of fever, the fever headache, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>Since the publication of the above in ‘Knowledge,’ I
-have been reminded of the high authorities who have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
-defended the use of the alkaloids, and more particularly
-of Liebig’s theory, or the theory commonly attributed to
-Liebig, but which is Lehmann’s, published in Liebig’s
-‘Annalen,’ vol. lxxxvii., and adopted and advocated by
-Liebig with his usual ability.</p>
-
-<p>Lehmann watched <i>for some weeks</i> the effects of coffee
-upon two persons in good health. He found that it
-retarded the waste of the tissues of the body, that the
-proportion of phosphoric acid and of urea excreted by
-the kidneys was diminished by the action of the coffee,
-the diet being in all other respects the same. Pure
-caffeine (which is the same as theine) produced a similar
-effect; the aromatic oil of the coffee, given separately,
-was found to exert a stimulating effect on the nervous
-system.</p>
-
-<p>Johnston (‘Chemistry of Common Life’) closely following
-Liebig, and referring to the researches of Lehmann,
-says: ‘<i>The waste of the body is lessened by the
-introduction of theine into the stomach—that is, by the use
-of tea.</i> And if the waste be lessened, the necessity for
-food to repair it will be lessened in an equal proportion.
-In other words, by the consumption of a certain quantity
-of tea, the health and strength of the body will be
-maintained in an equal degree upon a smaller quantity
-of ordinary food. <i>Tea, therefore, saves food</i>—stands to a
-certain extent in the place of food—while, at the same
-time, it soothes the body and enlivens the mind.’</p>
-
-<p>He proceeds to say that ‘in the old and infirm it
-serves also another purpose. In the life of most persons
-a period arrives when the stomach no longer digests
-enough of the ordinary elements of food to make up
-for the natural daily waste of the bodily substance. The
-size and weight of the body, therefore, begin to diminish
-more or less perceptibly. At this period <i>tea comes in as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
-a medicine to arrest the waste</i>, to keep the body from
-falling away so fast, and thus to enable the less energetic
-powers of digestion still to supply as much as is
-needed to repair the wear and tear of the solid tissues.’
-No wonder, therefore, says he, ‘<i>that the aged female, who
-has barely enough income to buy what are called the common
-necessaries of life, should yet spend a portion of her small
-gains in purchasing her ounce of tea. She can live quite as
-well on less common food when she takes her tea along
-with it;</i> while she feels lighter at the same time, more
-cheerful, and fitter for her work, because of the indulgence.’
-(The italics are my own for comparison with
-those that follow.)</p>
-
-<p>All this is based upon the researches of Lehmann
-and others, who measured the work of the vital furnace
-by the quantity of ashes produced—the urea and phosphoric
-acid excreted. But there is also another method
-of measuring the same, that of collecting the expired
-breath and determining the quantity of carbonic acid
-given off by combustion. This method is imperfect,
-inasmuch as it only measures a portion of the carbonic
-acid which is given off. The skin is also a respiratory
-organ, co-operating with the lungs in evolving carbonic
-acid.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Edward Smith adopted the method of measuring
-the respired carbonic acid only. His results were first
-published in ‘The Philosophical Transactions’ of 1859,
-and again in Chapter XXXV. of his volume on ‘Food,’
-International Scientific Series.</p>
-
-<p>After stating, in the latter, the details of the experiments,
-which include depth of respiration as well as
-amount of carbonic acid respired, he says: ‘Hence it
-was proved beyond all doubt that tea is a most powerful
-respiratory excitant. As it causes an evolution of carbon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
-greatly beyond that which it supplies, it follows that it
-must powerfully promote those vital changes in food
-which ultimately produce the carbonic acid to be evolved.
-Instead, therefore, of supplying nutritive matter, it causes
-the assimilation and transformation of other foods.’</p>
-
-<p>Now, note the following practical conclusions, which
-I quote in Dr. Smith’s own words, but take the liberty of
-rendering in italics those passages that I wish the reader
-to specially compare with the preceding quotations from
-Johnston: ‘In reference to nutrition, we may say that
-<i>tea increases waste</i>, since it promotes the transformation
-of food without supplying nutriment, and increases the
-loss of heat without supplying fuel, and <i>it is therefore
-especially adapted to the wants of those who usually eat too
-much</i>, and after a full meal, when the process of assimilation
-should be quickened, but <i>is less adapted to the poor
-and ill-fed</i>, and during fasting.’ He tells us very positively
-that ‘to take tea before a meal is as absurd as
-not to take it after a meal, unless the system be at all
-times replete with nutritive material.’ And, again: ‘Our
-experiments have sufficed to show how tea may be <i>injurious
-if taken with deficient food, and thereby exaggerate
-the evils of the poor;</i>’ and, again: ‘The conclusions at
-which we arrived after our researches in 1858 were, that
-tea should not be taken without food, unless after a
-full meal; or with insufficient food; or by the young
-or very feeble; and that <i>its essential action is to waste
-the system or consume food</i>, by promoting vital action
-which it does not support, and they have not been disproved
-by any subsequent scientific researches.’</p>
-
-<p>This final assertion may be true, and to those who
-‘go in for the last thing out,’ the latest novelty or fashion
-in science, literature, or millinery, the absence of any
-refutation of later date is quite enough.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>But how about the previous ‘scientific researches’ of
-Lehmann, who, on all such subjects, is about the highest
-authority that can be quoted. His three volumes on
-‘Physiological Chemistry,’ translated and republished by
-the Cavendish Society, stand pre-eminent as the best-written,
-most condensed, and complete work on the subject,
-and his original researches constitute a lifetime’s
-work, not of mere random change-ringing among the
-elements of obscure and insignificant organic compounds,
-but of judiciously selected chemical work, having definite
-philosophical aims and objects.</p>
-
-<p>It is evident from the passages I have emphatically
-quoted that Dr. Smith flatly contradicts Lehmann, and
-arrives at directly contradictory physiological results and
-practical inferences.</p>
-
-<p>Are we, therefore, to conclude that he has blundered
-in his analysis, or that Lehmann has done so?</p>
-
-<p>On carefully comparing the two sets of investigations,
-I conclude that there is no necessary contradiction
-<i>in the facts:</i> that both may be, and in all probability are,
-quite correct as regards their chemical results; but that
-Dr. Smith has only attacked half the problem, while
-Lehmann has grasped the whole.</p>
-
-<p>All the popular stimulants, refreshing drugs, and
-‘pick-me-ups’ have two distinct and opposite actions—an
-immediate exaltation which lasts for a certain period,
-varying with the drug and the constitution of its victim,
-and a subsequent depression proportionate to the primary
-exaltation, but, as I believe, always exceeding it either
-in duration or intensity, or both, thus giving as a nett
-or mean result a loss of vitality.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Smith’s experiments only measured the carbonic
-acid exhaled from the lungs <i>during the first
-stage</i>, the period of exaltation. His experiments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
-were extended to 50 minutes, 71 minutes, 65 minutes,
-and in one case to 1 hour and 50 minutes. It is
-worthy of note that, in Experiment 1, 100 grains of
-black tea were given to two persons, and the duration
-of the experiment was 50 and 71 minutes; the average
-increase was 71 and 68 cubic inches per minute, while
-in No. 6, with the same dose and the carbonic acid
-collected during 1 hour and 50 minutes, the average increase
-per minute was only 47·5 cubic inches. These
-indicate a decline of the exaltation, and the curves on
-his diagrams show the same. His coffee results were
-similar.</p>
-
-<p>We all know that the ‘refreshing’ action of tea often
-extends over a considerable period. My own experiments
-on myself show that it continues about three or
-four hours, and that of beer or wine less than one hour
-(moderate doses in each case).</p>
-
-<p>I have tested this by walking measured distances
-after taking the stimulant and comparing with my
-walking powers when taking no other beverage than
-cold water. The duration of the tea stimulation has
-been also measured (painfully so) by the duration of
-sleeplessness when female seduction has led me to drink
-tea late in the evening. The duration of coffee is about
-one-third less than tea.</p>
-
-<p>Lehmann’s experiments extending over weeks (days
-instead of minutes), measured the whole effect of the
-alkaloid and oil of the coffee during both the periods
-of exaltation and depression, and, therefore, supplied a
-mean or total result which accords with ordinary everyday
-experience. It is well known that the pot of tea
-of the poor needlewoman subdues the natural craving
-for food; the habitual smoker claims the same merit for
-his pipe, and the chewer for his quid. Wonderful stories<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
-are told of the long abstinence of the drinkers of maté,
-chewers of betel-nut, Siberian fungus, coca-leaf, and
-pepper-wort, and the smokers and eaters of haschisch, &amp;c.
-Not only is the sense of hunger allayed, but less food is
-demanded for sustaining life.</p>
-
-<p>It is a curious fact that similar effects should be
-produced, and similar advantages claimed, for the use
-of a drug which is totally different in its other chemical
-properties and relations. ‘White arsenic,’ or arsenious
-acid, is the oxide of a metal, and far as the poles
-asunder from the alkaloids, alcohols, and aromatic resins
-in chemical classification. But it does check the waste of
-the tissues, and is eaten by the Styrians and others with
-physiological effects curiously resembling those of its
-chemical antipodeans above named. Foremost among
-these physiological effects is that of ‘making the food
-appear to go farther.’</p>
-
-<p>It is strange that Liebig or any physiologist who
-accepts his views of vital chemistry, should claim this
-diminution of the normal waste and renewal of tissue
-as a merit, seeing that, according to Liebig, life itself is
-the product of such change, and death the result of its
-cessation. But in the eagerness that has been displayed
-to justify existing indulgences, this claim has been extensively
-made by men who ought to know better than
-to admit such a plea.</p>
-
-<p>I speak, as before, of the <i>habitual</i> use of such drugs,
-not of their occasional medicinal use. The waste of the
-body may be going on with killing rapidity, as in fever,
-and then such medicines may save life, provided always
-that the body has not become ‘tolerant,’ or partially
-insensible, to them by daily usage. I once watched a
-dangerous case of typhoid fever. Acting under the
-instructions of skilful medical attendants, and aided by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
-a clinical thermometer and a seconds watch, I so applied
-small doses of brandy at short intervals as to keep
-down both pulse and temperature within the limits of
-fatal combustion. The patient had scarcely tasted
-alcohol before this, and therefore it exerted its maximum
-efficacy. I was surprised at the certain response
-of both pulse and temperature to this most valuable
-medicine and most pernicious beverage.</p>
-
-<p>The argument that has been the most industriously
-urged in favour of all the vice-drugs, and each in its
-turn, is that miserable apology that has been made for
-every folly, every vice, every political abuse, every social
-crime (such as slavery, polygamy, &amp;c.), when the time
-has arrived for reformation. I cannot condescend to
-seriously argue against it, but merely state the fact that
-the widely-diffused practice of using some kind of stimulating
-drug has been claimed as a sufficient proof of the
-necessity or advantage of such practice. I leave my
-readers to bestow on such a plea the treatment they
-may think it deserves. Those who believe that a rational
-being should have rational grounds for his conduct
-will treat this customary refuge of blind conservatism
-as I do.</p>
-
-<p>I recommend tea drinkers who desire to practically
-investigate the subject for themselves to repeat the experiment
-that I have made. After establishing the
-habit of taking tea at a particular hour, suddenly relinquish
-it altogether. The result will be more or less
-unpleasant, in some cases seriously so. My symptoms
-were a dull headache and intellectual sluggishness during
-the remainder of the day—and if compelled to do any
-brain-work, such as lecturing or writing, I did it badly.
-This, as I have already said, is the diseased condition
-induced by the habit. These symptoms vary with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
-amount of the customary indulgence and the temperament
-of the individual. A rough, lumbering, insensible
-navvy may drink a quart or two of tea, or a few gallons
-of beer, or several quarterns of gin, with but small results
-of any kind. I know an omnibus-driver who makes
-seven double journeys daily, and his ‘reglars’ are half
-a quartern of gin at each terminus—<i>i.e.</i> 1¾ pints daily,
-exclusive of extras. This would render most men helplessly
-drunk, but he is never drunk, and drives well and
-safely.</p>
-
-<p>Assuming, then, that the experimenter has taken
-sufficient daily tea to have a sensible effect, he will suffer
-on leaving it off. Let him persevere in the discontinuance,
-in spite of brain languor and dull headache.
-He will find that day by day the languor will diminish,
-and in the course of time (about a fortnight or three
-weeks in my case) he will be weaned. He will retain
-from morning to night the full, free, and steady use of
-all his faculties; will get through his day’s work without
-any fluctuation of working ability (provided, of course,
-no other stimulant is used). Instead of his best faculties
-being dependent on a drug for their awakening, he will
-be in the condition of true manhood—<i>i.e.</i> able to do his
-best in any direction of effort, simply in reply to moral
-demand; able to do whatever is right and advantageous,
-because his reason shows that it is so. The sense of
-duty is to such a free man the only stimulus demanded
-for calling forth his uttermost energies.</p>
-
-<p>If he again returns to his habitual tea, he will again
-be reduced to more or less of dependence upon it. This
-condition of dependence is a state of disease precisely
-analogous to that which is induced by opium and other
-drugs that operate by temporary abnormal cerebral
-exaltation. The pleasurable sensations enjoyed by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
-opium-eater or smoker or morphia injector are more
-intense than those of the tea-drinker, and the reaction
-proportionally greater.</p>
-
-<p>I must not leave this subject without a word or two
-in reference to a widely prevailing and very mischievous
-fallacy. Many argue and actually believe that because
-a given drug has great efficiency in curing disease, it
-must do good if taken under ordinary conditions of
-health.</p>
-
-<p>No high authorities are demanded for the refutation
-of this. A little common sense properly used is quite
-sufficient. It is evident that a medicine, properly so-called,
-is something which is capable of producing a
-disturbing or alterative effect on the body generally or
-some particular organ. The skill of the physician consists
-in so applying this disturbing agency as to produce
-an alteration of the state of disease, a direct conversion
-of the state of disease to a state of health, if possible
-(which is rarely the case), or more usually the conversion
-of one state of disease into another of milder
-character. But, when we are in a state of sound health,
-any disturbance or alteration must be a change for the
-worse, must throw us out of health to an extent proportionate
-to the potency of the drug.</p>
-
-<p>I might illustrate this by a multitude of familiar
-examples, but they would carry me too far away from
-my proper subject. There is, however, one class of such
-remedies which are directly connected with the chemistry
-of cookery. I refer to the condiments that act as ‘tonics,’
-excluding common salt, which is an article of food,
-though often miscalled a condiment. Salt is food simply
-because it supplies the blood with one of its normal and
-necessary constituents, chloride of sodium, without which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
-we cannot live. A certain quantity of it exists in most
-of our ordinary food, but not always sufficient.</p>
-
-<p>Cayenne pepper may be selected as a typical example
-of a condiment properly so-called. Mustard is a food
-and condiment combined; this is the case with some
-others. Curry powders are mixtures of very potent
-condiments with more or less of farinaceous materials,
-and sulphur compounds, which, like the oil of mustard,
-of onions, garlic, &amp;c., may have a certain amount of
-special nutritive value.</p>
-
-<p>The mere condiment is a stimulating drug that does
-its work directly upon the inner lining of the stomach,
-by exciting it to increased and abnormal activity. A
-dyspeptic may obtain immediate relief by using cayenne
-pepper. Among the advertised patent medicines is a
-pill bearing the very ominous name of its compounder,
-the active constituent of which is cayenne. Great relief
-and temporary comfort is commonly obtained by using
-it as a ‘dinner pill.’ If thus used only as a temporary
-remedy for an acute and temporary, or exceptional,
-attack of indigestion all is well, but the cayenne, whether
-taken in pills or dusted over the food or stewed with it
-in curries or any otherwise, is one of the most cruel of
-slow poisons when taken <i>habitually</i>. Thousands of poor
-wretches are crawling miserably towards their graves,
-the victims of the multitude of maladies of both mind
-and body that are connected with chronic, incurable
-dyspepsia, all brought about by the habitual use of
-cayenne and its condimental cousins.</p>
-
-<p>The usual history of these victims is, that they began
-by over-feeding, took the condiment to force the stomach
-to do more than its healthful amount of work, using but
-a little at first. Then the stomach became tolerant of
-this little, and demanded more; then more, and more,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
-and more, until at last inflammation, ulceration, torpidity,
-and finally the death of the digestive powers, accompanied
-with all that long train of miseries to which I
-have referred. India is their special fatherland. Englishmen,
-accustomed to an active life at home, and a climate
-demanding much fuel-food for the maintenance of animal
-heat, go to India, crammed, maybe, with Latin, but
-ignorant of the laws of health; cheap servants promote
-indolence, tropical heat diminishes respiratory oxidation,
-and the appetite naturally fails.</p>
-
-<p>Instead of understanding this failure as an admonition
-to take smaller quantities of food, or food of less nutritive
-and combustive value, such as carbohydrates instead of
-hydrocarbons and albumenoids, they regard it as a
-symptom of ill-health, and take curries, bitter ale, and
-other tonics or appetising condiments, which, however
-mischievous in England, are far more so there.</p>
-
-<p>I know several men who have lived rationally in
-India, and they all agree that the climate is especially
-favourable to longevity, provided bitter beer, and all
-other alcoholic drinks, all peppery condiments, and flesh
-foods are avoided. The most remarkable example of
-vigorous old age I have ever met was a retired colonel
-eighty-two years of age, who had risen from the ranks,
-and had been fifty-five years in India without furlough;
-drunk no alcohol during that period; was a vegetarian
-in India, though not so in his native land. I guessed
-his age to be somewhere about sixty. He was a Scotchman,
-and an ardent student of the works of both George
-and Dr. Andrew Combe.</p>
-
-<p>A correspondent inquires whether I class cocoa
-amongst the stimulants. So far as I am able to learn, it
-should not be so classed, but I cannot speak absolutely.
-Mere chemistry supplies no answer to this question. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
-is purely a physiological subject, to be studied by observation
-of effects. Such observations may be made
-by anybody whose system has not become ‘tolerant’ of
-the substance in question. My own experience of cocoa
-in all its forms is that it is not stimulating in any sensible
-degree. I have acquired no habit of using it, and yet I
-can enjoy a rich cup or bowl of cocoa or chocolate just
-before bed-time without losing any sleep. When I am
-occasionally betrayed into taking a late cup of coffee
-or tea, I repent it for some hours after going to bed.
-My inquiries among other people, who are not under
-the influence of that most powerful of all arguments,
-the logic of inclination, have confirmed my own experience.</p>
-
-<p>I should, however, add that some authorities have
-attributed exhilarating properties to the <i>theobromine</i> or
-nitrogenous alkaloid of cocoa. Its composition nearly
-resembles that of theine, as the following (from Johnston)
-shows:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Composition of cocoa">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left"><small>Theine</small></td>
-<td align="left"><small>Theobromine</small></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Carbon</td>
-<td align="right">49·80</td>
-<td align="right">46·43</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Hydrogen</td>
-<td align="right">5·08</td>
-<td align="right">4·20</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Nitrogen</td>
-<td align="right">28·83</td>
-<td align="right">35·85</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Oxygen</td>
-<td align="right"><span class="u">16·29</span></td>
-<td align="right"><span class="u">13·52</span></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">100·00</td>
-<td align="right">100·00</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-<p>It exists in the cocoa bean in about the same proportion
-as the theine in tea, but in making a cup of
-cocoa we use a much greater weight of cocoa than of
-tea in a cup of tea. If, therefore, the properties of
-theobromine were similar to those of theine, we should
-feel the stimulating effects much more decidedly.</p>
-
-<p>The alkaloid of tea and coffee in its pure state has
-been administered to animals, and found to produce
-paralysis, but I am not aware that theobromine has
-acted similarly.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Another essential difference between cocoa and tea
-or coffee is that cocoa is, strictly speaking, a food. We
-do not merely make an infusion of the cacao bean, but
-eat it bodily in the form of a soup. It is highly nutritious,
-one of the most nutritious foods in common
-use. When travelling on foot in mountainous and
-other regions, where there was a risk of spending the
-night <i>al fresco</i> and supperless, I have usually carried a
-cake of chocolate in my knapsack, as the most portable
-and unchangeable form of concentrated nutriment, and
-have found it most valuable. On one occasion I went
-astray on the Kjolenfjeld, in Norway, and struggled for
-about twenty-four hours without food or shelter. I had
-no chocolate then, and sorely repented my improvidence.
-Many other pedestrians have tried chocolate in like
-manner, and all I know have commended its great
-‘staying’ properties, simply regarded as food. I therefore
-conclude that Linnæus was not without strong
-justification in giving it the name of <i>theobroma</i> (food for
-the gods), but to confirm this practically the pure nut,
-the whole nut, and nothing but the nut (excepting the
-milk and sugar added by the consumer) should be used.
-Some miserable counterfeits are offered—farinaceous
-paste, flavoured with cocoa and sugar. The best sample
-I have been able to procure is the ship cocoa prepared
-for the Navy. This is nothing but the whole nut unsweetened,
-ground, and crushed to an impalpable paste.
-It requires a little boiling, and when milk alone is used,
-with due proportion of sugar, it is a <i>theobroma</i>. Condensed
-milk diluted, and without further sweetening,
-may be used.</p>
-
-<p>The following are the results of the analyses of two
-samples of cocoa by Payen:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="two samples of cocoa">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Cacao butter</td>
-<td align="right">48</td>
-<td align="right">50</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Albumen, fibrin, and other nitrogenous matter&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">21</td>
-<td align="right">20</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Theobromine</td>
-<td align="right">4</td>
-<td align="right">2</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Starch, with traces of sugar</td>
-<td align="right">11</td>
-<td align="right">10</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Cellulose</td>
-<td align="right">3</td>
-<td align="right">2</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Colouring matter, aromatic essence</td>
-<td align="center" colspan="2">traces</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Mineral matter</td>
-<td align="right">3</td>
-<td align="right">4</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Water</td>
-<td align="right"><span class="u">&nbsp;&nbsp;10</span></td>
-<td align="right"><span class="u">&nbsp;&nbsp;12</span></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">100</td>
-<td align="right">&nbsp;&nbsp;100</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The very large proportion of fat shows that the
-Italians are right in their mode of using their breakfast
-cup of chocolate. They cut their roll into ‘fingers,’ and
-dip it in the ‘aurora’ instead of spreading butter on it.</p>
-
-<p>Vegetable food generally contains an excess of cellulose
-and a deficiency of fat; therefore cocoa, with its
-excess of fat and deficiency of cellulose, is theoretically
-indicated as a very desirable adjunct to an ordinary
-vegetarian dietary. The few experiments I have made
-by perpetrating the culinary heresy of adding cocoa to
-oatmeal-porridge and other <i>purées</i>, to mashed potatoes,
-turnips, carrots, boiled rice, sago, tapioca, &amp;c., prove
-that vegetarians have much to learn in the cookery of
-cocoa. During two months’ sojourn in Milan my daily
-breakfast consisted of bread, grapes, and powdered
-chocolate. Each grape was bitten across, one-half
-eaten pure and simple, then the cut and pulpy face of
-the other half was dipped in the chocolate powder, and
-eaten with as much as adhered to it. I have never
-been better fed.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a><br />
-
-<small>THE COOKERY OF WINE.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">In</span> an unguarded moment I promised to include the
-above in this work, and will do the best I can to fulfil
-the rash promise; but the utmost result of this effort
-can only be a contribution to a subject which is too profoundly
-mysterious to be fully grasped by any intellect
-that is not sufficiently clairvoyant to penetrate paving-stones,
-and see through them to the interiors of the
-closely-tiled cellars wherein the mysteries are manipulated.</p>
-
-<p>I will first define what I mean by the cookery of
-wine. Grape juice in its unfermented state may be
-described as ‘raw wine,’ or this name may be applied to
-the juice after fermentation. I apply it in the latter
-sense, and shall use it as describing grape juice which
-has been spontaneously and recently fermented without
-the addition of any foreign materials, or altered by
-keeping, or heating, or any other process beyond
-fermentation. All such processes and admixture which
-affect any chemical changes on the raw material I shall
-describe as cookery, and the result as cooked wine.
-When I refer to wine made from other juice than that
-of the grape it will be named specifically.</p>
-
-<p>At the outset a fallacy, very prevalent in this
-country, should be controverted. The high prices
-charged for the cooked material sold to Englishmen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
-has led to absurdly exaggerated notions of the original
-value of wine. I am quite safe in stating that the
-average market value of rich wine in its raw state, in
-countries where the grape grows luxuriantly, and where,
-in consequence, the average quality of the wine is the
-best, does not exceed sixpence per gallon, or one penny
-per bottle. I speak now of the newly-made wine.
-Allowing another sixpence per gallon for barrelling and
-storage, the value of the commodity in portable form
-becomes twopence per bottle. I am not speaking of
-thin, poor wines, produced by a second or third pressing
-of the grapes, but of the best and richest quality, and,
-of course, I do not include the fancy wines—those produced
-in certain vineyards of celebrated châteaux—that
-are superstitiously venerated by those easily-deluded
-people who suppose themselves to be connoisseurs of
-choice wines. I refer to ninety-nine per cent. of the
-<i>rich</i> wines that actually come into the market. Wines
-made from grapes grown in unfavourable climates
-naturally cost more in proportion to the poorness of the
-yield.</p>
-
-<p>As some of my readers may be inclined to question
-this estimate of average cost, a few illustrative facts may
-be named. In Sicily and Calabria I usually paid at the
-roadside or village ‘osterias’ an equivalent to one halfpenny
-for a glass or tumbler holding nearly half a pint
-of common wine, thin, but genuine. This was at the
-rate of less than one shilling per gallon, or twopence per
-bottle, and included the cost of barrelling, storage, and
-innkeeper’s profit on retailing. In the luxuriant wine-growing
-regions of Spain, a traveller halting at a railway
-refreshment station and buying one of the sausage sandwiches
-that there prevail, is allowed to help himself to
-wine to drink on the spot without charge, but if he fills<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
-his flask to carry away he is subjected to an extra charge
-of one halfpenny. It is well known to all concerned
-that at vintage-time of fairly good seasons, in all
-countries where the grape grows freely, a good empty
-cask is worth more than the new wine it contains when
-filled; that much wine is wasted from lack of vessels,
-and anybody sending two good empty casks to a
-vigneron can have one of them filled in exchange for
-the other. Those who desire further illustrations and
-verification should ask their friends—<i>outside of the trade</i>—who
-have travelled in Southern wine countries, and
-know the language and something more of the country
-than is to be learned by being simply transferred from
-one hotel to another under the guidance of couriers,
-ciceroni, valets de place, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>Thus the five shillings paid for a bottle of rich port
-is made up of one penny for the original wine, one
-penny more for cost of storage, &amp;c., about sixpence for
-duty and carriage to this country, and twopence for
-bottling, making tenpence altogether; the remaining
-four shillings and twopence is paid for cookery and
-wine-merchant’s profits.</p>
-
-<p>Under cookery I include those changes which may
-be obtained by simply exposing the wine to the action
-of the temperature of an ordinary cellar, or the higher
-temperature of ‘Pasteuring,’ to be presently described.</p>
-
-<p>In the youthful days of chemistry the first of these
-methods of cookery was the only one available, and
-wine was kept by wine-merchants with purely commercial
-intent for a considerable number of years.</p>
-
-<p>A little reflection will show that this simple and
-original cookery was very expensive, sufficiently so to
-legitimately explain the rise in market value from tenpence
-to five shillings or more per bottle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Wine-merchants require a respectable profit on the
-capital they invest in their business—at least ten per cent.
-per annum on the prime cost of the wine laid down.
-Then there is the rental of cellars and offices, the
-establishment expenses—such as wages, sampling, sending
-out, advertising, losses by bad debts, &amp;c.—to be
-added. The capital lying dead in the cellar demands
-compound interest. At ten per cent. the principal
-doubles in about seven and one-third years. Calling it
-seven years, to allow very meagrely for establishment
-expenses, we get the following result:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="wine">
-<tr>
-<td align="left" colspan="5">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left">£</td>
-<td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>s.</i></td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;<i>d.</i></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">When</td>
-<td align="right">7</td>
-<td align="left">&nbsp;years old the</td>
-<td align="left">tenpenny</td>
-<td align="left">wine is worth&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">8</td>
-<td align="left">per bottle.</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="left">14</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">3</td>
-<td align="right">4</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="left">21</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">6</td>
-<td align="right">8</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="left">28</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="right">0</td>
-<td align="right">13</td>
-<td align="right">4</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="left">35</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-<td align="right">1</td>
-<td align="right">6</td>
-<td align="right">8</td>
-<td align="center">”</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p>Here, then, we have a fair commercial explanation
-of the high prices of old-fashioned old wines; or of what
-I may <i>now</i> call the traditional value of wine.</p>
-
-<p>Of course, this is less when a man lays down his
-own wine in his own cellar, in obedience to the maxim,
-‘Lay down good port in the days of your youth, and
-when you are old your friends will not forsake you.’
-He may be satisfied with a much smaller rate of interest
-than the man engaged in business fairly demands.
-Still, when wine thus aged was thrown into the market,
-it competed with commercially cellared wine, and obtained
-remarkable prices, especially as it has a special
-value for ‘blending’ purposes, <i>i.e.</i> for mixing with newer
-wines and infecting them with its own senility.</p>
-
-<p>But why do I say that <i>now</i> such values are traditional?
-Simply because the progress of chemistry
-has shown us how the changes resulting from years of
-cellarage may be effected by scientific cookery in a few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
-hours or days. We are indebted to Pasteur for the
-most legitimate—I might say the only legitimate—method
-of doing this. The process is accordingly
-called ‘Pasteuring.’ It consists in simply heating the
-wine to the temperature of 60° C. = 140° Fahr., the
-temperature at which, as will be remembered, the visible
-changes in the cookery of animal food commences. It
-is worthy of note that this is also the exact temperature
-at which diastase acts most powerfully in converting
-starch into dextrin. Pasteuring is a process demanding
-considerable skill; no portion of the wine during its
-cookery must be raised above 140°, yet all must reach
-it; nor must it be exposed to the air.</p>
-
-<p>The apparatus designed by Rossignol is one of the
-best suited for this purpose. It is a large metallic
-vat or boiler with air-tight cover and a false bottom,
-from which rises a trumpet-shaped tube through the
-middle of the vat, and passing through an air-tight
-fitting in the cover. The chamber formed by the false
-bottom is filled with water by means of this tube, the
-object being to prevent the wine at the lower part from
-being heated directly by the fire which is below the
-water chamber. A thermometer is also inserted air-tight
-in the lid, with its bulb half-way down the vat.
-To allow for expansion a tube is similarly fitted into the
-lid. This is bent syphon-like, and its lower end dipped
-into a flask containing wine or water, so that air or
-vapour may escape and bubble through, but none enter.
-Even in drawing off from the vat the wine is not
-allowed to flow through the air, but is conveyed by a
-pipe which bends down, and dips to the bottom of the
-barrel. The apparatus is bulky and expensive.</p>
-
-<p>If heated with exposure to air, the wine acquires a
-flavour easily recognised as the ‘<i>goût de cuit</i>,’ or flavour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
-of cooking. When Pasteur’s method is properly conducted
-the only changes effected are those which would
-be otherwise produced by age. I have heard of many failures
-made by English wine-merchants in their attempts
-at Pasteuring, and am not at all surprised, seeing how
-secretly and clumsily these attempts have been made.</p>
-
-<p>The changes thus produced are somewhat obscure.
-One effect is probably that which more decidedly occurs
-in the maturing of whisky and other spirits distilled
-from grain, viz. the reduction of the proportion of
-amylic alcohol or fusel oil, which, although less abundantly
-produced in the fermentation of grape juice than
-in grain or potato spirit, is formed in varying quantities.
-Caproic alcohol and caprylic alcohol are also produced
-by the fermentation of grape juice or the ‘marc’ of
-grapes—<i>i.e.</i> the mixture of the whole juice and the
-skins. These are acrid, ill-flavoured spirits, more conducive
-to headache than the ethylic alcohol, which is
-proper spirit of good wine. Every wine-drinker knows
-that the amount of headache obtainable from a given
-quantity of wine, or a given outlay of cash, varies with
-the sample, and this variation appears to be due to
-these supplementary alcohols or ethers.</p>
-
-<p>Another change appears to be the formation of
-ethers having choice flavours and bouquets; <i>œnanthic
-ether</i>, or the ether of wine, is the most important of
-these, and it is probably formed by the action of the
-natural acid salts of the wine upon its alcohol. Johnston
-says: ‘So powerful is the odour of this substance,
-however, that few wines contain more than one forty-thousandth
-part of their bulk of it. Yet it is always
-present, can always be recognised by its smell, and is
-one of the general characteristics of all grape wines.’
-This ether is stated to be the basis of <i>Hungarian wine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
-oil</i>, which, according to the same authority, has been
-sold for flavouring brandy at the rate of sixty-nine
-dollars per pound. I am surprised that up to the
-present time it has not been cheaply produced in large
-quantities. Chemical problems that appear far more
-difficult have been practically solved.</p>
-
-<p>The paternal tenderness with which wine is regarded,
-both by its producers and consumers, is amusing. They
-speak of it as being ‘sick,’ describe its ‘diseases,’ and their
-remedies as though it were a sentient being; and these
-diseases, like our own, are now attributed to bacilli,
-bacteria, or other microbia.</p>
-
-<p>Pasteur, who has worked out this question of the
-origin of diseases in wine as he is so well known
-to have done in animals, recommends (in papers read
-before the French Academy in May and August 1865),
-that these microbia be ‘killed’ by filling the bottles
-close up to the cork, which is thrust in just with
-sufficient firmness to allow the wine on expanding to
-force it out a little, but not entirely, thus preventing
-any air from entering the bottle. The bottles are then
-placed in a chamber heated to temperatures ranging
-from 45° to 100° C. (113° to 212° Fahr.), where they remain
-for an hour or two. They are then set aside,
-allowed to cool, and the cork driven in. It is said that
-this treatment kills the microbia, gives to the wine an
-increased bouquet and improved colour—in fact, ages it
-considerably. Both old and new wines may be thus
-treated.</p>
-
-<p>I simply state this on the authority of Pasteur,
-having made no direct experiments or observations on
-these diseases, which he describes as resulting in acetification,
-ropiness, bitterness, and decay or decomposition.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>There is, however, another kind of sickness which I
-have studied, both experimentally and theoretically. I
-refer to the temporary sickness which sometimes occurs
-to rich wines when they are moved from one cellar to
-another, and to light wines when newly exported from
-their native climate to our own. Genuine wines are
-the most subject to such sickness;—the natural, unsophisticated
-wines, those that have not been subjected to
-‘fortification,’ to ‘vinage,’ to ‘plastering,’ ‘sulphuring,’
-&amp;c.—processes of cookery to be presently described.</p>
-
-<p>This sickness shows itself by the wine becoming
-turbid, or opalescent, then throwing down either a crust
-or a loose, troublesome sediment.</p>
-
-<p>Those of my readers who are sufficiently interested
-in this subject to care to study it practically should make
-the following experiment:</p>
-
-<p>Dissolve in distilled water, or, better, in water slightly
-acidulated with hydrochloric acid, as much cream of
-tartar as will saturate it. This is best done by heating
-the water, agitating an excess of cream of tartar in it,
-then allowing the water to cool, the excess of salt to
-subside, and pouring off the clear solution. Now add
-to this solution, while quite clear and bright, a little clear
-brandy, whisky, or other spirit, and mix them by shaking.
-The solution will become ‘sick,’ like the wine. Why is
-this?</p>
-
-<p>It depends upon the fact that the bitartrate of potash,
-or cream of tartar, is soluble to some extent in water,
-but almost insoluble in alcohol. In a mixture of alcohol
-and water its solubility is intermediate—the more alcohol
-the smaller the quantity that can be held in solution
-(hydrochloric and most other acids, excepting tartaric,
-increase its solubility in water). Thus, if we have a
-saturated solution of this salt either in pure water or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
-acidulated water, or wine, the addition of alcohol throws
-some of it down in solid form, and this makes the solution
-sick or turbid. When pure water or acidulated
-water is used, as in the above-described experiment,
-crystals of the salt are freely formed, and fall down
-readily; but with a complex liquid like wine, containing
-saccharine and mucilaginous matter, the precipitation
-takes place very slowly; the particles are excessively
-minute, become entangled with the mucilage, &amp;c., and
-thus remain suspended for a long time, maintaining the
-turbidity accordingly.</p>
-
-<p>Now, this bitartrate of potash is the characteristic
-natural salt of the grape, and its unfermented juice is
-saturated with it. As fermentation proceeds, and the
-sugar of the grape-juice is converted into alcohol, the
-capacity of the juice for holding the salt in solution
-diminishes, and it is gradually thrown down. But it
-does not fall alone. It carries with it some of the
-colouring and extractive matter of the grape-juice. This
-precipitate, in its crude state called <i>argol</i>, or <i>roher Weinstein</i>,
-is the source from which we obtain the tartaric
-acid of commerce, the cream of tartar, and other salts of
-tartaric acid.</p>
-
-<p>Now let us suppose that we have a natural, unsophisticated
-wine. It is evident that it is saturated with the
-tartrate, since only so much argol was thrown down
-during fermentation as it was unable to retain. It is
-further evident that if such a wine has not been exhaustively
-fermented, <i>i.e.</i> if it still contains some of the
-original grape-sugar, and if any further fermentation of
-this sugar takes place, the capacity of the mixture for
-holding the tartrate in solution becomes diminished, and
-a further precipitation must occur. This precipitation
-will come down very slowly, will consist not merely of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
-pure crystals of cream of tartar, but of minute particles
-carrying with it some colouring matter, extractives, &amp;c.,
-and thus spoiling the brilliancy of the wine, making it
-more or less turbid.</p>
-
-<p>But this is not all. Boiling water dissolves ⅙th of
-its weight of cream of tartar, cold water only <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>180</sub></small>th, and,
-at intermediate temperatures, intermediate quantities.
-Therefore, if we lower the temperature of a saturated
-solution, precipitation occurs. Hence, the sickening of
-wine due to change of cellars or change of climate,
-even when no further fermentation occurs. The lighter
-the wine, <i>i.e.</i> the less alcohol it contains naturally, the
-more tartrate it contains, and the greater the liability to
-this source of sickness.</p>
-
-<p>This, then, is the temporary sickness to which I
-have referred. I have proved the truth of this theory
-by filtering such sickened wine through laboratory filtering
-paper, thereby rendering it transparent, and obtaining
-on the paper all the guilty disturbing matter. I found
-it to be a kind of argol, but containing a much larger proportion
-of extractive and colouring matter, and a smaller
-proportion of tartrate than the argol of commerce. I
-operated upon rich new Catalan wine.</p>
-
-<p>This brings me at once to the source or origin of
-a sort of wine-cookery by no means so legitimate as the
-Pasteuring already described, as it frequently amounts
-to serious adulteration. The wine-merchants are here
-the victims of their customers, who demand an amount
-of transparency that is simply impossible as a permanent
-condition of unsophisticated grape-wine. To anybody
-who has any knowledge of the chemistry of wine, nothing
-can be more ludicrous than the antics of the pretending
-connoisseur of wine who holds his glass up to the light,
-shuts one eye (even at the stage before double vision<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
-commences), and admires the brilliancy of the liquid,
-this very brilliancy being, in nineteen samples out of
-twenty, the evidence of adulteration, cookery, or sophistication
-of some kind. Genuine wine made from pure
-grape-juice without chemical manipulation is a liquid
-that is never reliably clear, for the reasons above stated.
-Partial precipitation, sufficient to produce opalescence, is
-continually taking place, and therefore the unnatural
-brilliancy demanded is obtained by substituting the
-natural and wholesome tartrate by salts of mineral acids,
-and even by the free mineral acid itself. At one time
-I deemed this latter adulteration impossible, but have
-been convinced by direct examination of samples of
-<i>high-priced</i> (mark this, not <i>cheap</i>) dry sherries that they
-contained free sulphuric and sulphurous acid.</p>
-
-<p>The action of this free mineral acid on the wine will
-be understood by what I have already explained concerning
-the solubility of the bitartrate of potash. This
-solubility is greatly increased by a little of such acid,
-and therefore the transparency of the wine is by such
-addition rendered stable, unaffected by changes of temperature.</p>
-
-<p>But what is the effect of such free mineral acid on
-the drinker of the wine? If he is in any degree pre-disposed
-to gout, rheumatism, stone, or any of the lithic
-acid diseases, his life is sacrificed, with preceding tortures
-of the most horrible kind. It has been stated, and
-probably with truth, that the late Emperor Napoleon III.
-drank dry sherry, and was a martyr of this kind. I
-repeat emphatically that, generally speaking, high-priced
-dry sherries are far worse than cheap Marsala, both as
-regards the quantity they contain of sulphates and free
-acid.</p>
-
-<p>Anybody who doubts this may convince himself by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
-simply purchasing a little chloride of barium, dissolving
-it in distilled water, and adding to the sample of wine
-to be tested a few drops of this solution.</p>
-
-<p>Pure wine, containing its full supply of natural tartrate,
-will become cloudy to a small extent, and gradually.
-A small precipitate will be formed by the
-tartrate. The wine that contains either free sulphuric
-acid or any of its compounds will yield <i>immediately</i> a
-copious white precipitate like chalk, but much more
-dense. This is sulphate of baryta. The experiment may
-be made in a common wine-glass, but better in a cylindrical
-test-tube, as, by using in this a fixed quantity in
-each experiment, a rough notion of the relative quantity
-of sulphate may be formed by the depth of the white
-layer after all has come down. To determine this <i>accurately</i>,
-the wine, after applying the test, should be filtered
-through proper filtering paper, and the precipitate and
-paper burnt in a platinum or porcelain crucible and then
-weighed; but this demands apparatus not always available,
-and some technical skill. The simple demonstration
-of the copious precipitation is instructive, and those
-of my readers who are practical chemists, but have not
-yet applied this test to such wines, will be astonished, as
-I was, at the amount of precipitation.</p>
-
-<p>I may add that my first experience was upon a
-sample of dry sherry, brought to me by a friend who
-bought his wine of a respectable wine-merchant, and
-paid a high price for it, but found that it disagreed with
-him; it contained an alarming quantity of free sulphuric
-acid. Since that I have tested scores of samples, some
-of the finest in the market, sent to me by a conscientious
-importer as the best he could obtain, and these contained
-sulphate of potash instead of bitartrate.</p>
-
-<p>My friend, the sherry-merchant, could not account<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
-for it, though he was most anxious to do so. This was
-about three years ago. By dint of inquiry and cross-examination
-of experts in the wine trade, I have, I
-believe, discovered the origin of the sulphate of potash
-that is contained in the samples that the British wine-merchant
-sells as he buys, and conscientiously believes
-to be pure.</p>
-
-<p>At first I hunted up all the information I could
-obtain from books concerning the manufacture of sherry;
-learned that the grapes are usually sprinkled with a little
-powdered sulphur as they are placed in the vats prior to
-stamping. The quantity thus added, however, is quite
-insufficient to account for the sulphur compounds in the
-samples of wine I examined. Another source is described
-in the books—that from sulphuring the casks. This process
-consists simply of burning sulphur inside a partially-filled
-or empty cask, until the exhaustion of free oxygen
-and its replacement by sulphurous acid renders further
-combustion impossible. The cask is then filled with the
-wine. This would add a little of sulphurous acid, but
-still not sufficient.</p>
-
-<p>Then comes the ‘plastering,’ or intentional addition
-of gypsum (plaster of Paris). This, if largely carried
-out, is sufficient to explain the complete conversion of
-the natural tartrates into sulphates of potash, and such
-plastering is admitted to be an adulteration or sophistication.
-I obtained samples of sherry from a reliable
-source, which I have no doubt the shipper honestly
-believed to have been subjected to no such deliberate
-plastering; still,from these came down an extravagantly
-excessive precipitate on the addition of chloride of
-barium solution.</p>
-
-<p>I afterwards learned that ‘Spanish earth’ was used
-in the fining. Why Spanish earth in preference to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
-isinglass or white of egg, which are quite unobjectionable
-and very efficient? To this question I could get
-no satisfactory answer directly, but learned vaguely that
-the fining produced by the white of egg, though complete
-at the time, was not permanent, while that effected
-by Spanish earth, containing much sulphate of lime, is
-permanent. The brilliancy thus obtained is not lost by
-age or variations of temperature, and the dry sherries
-thus cooked are preferred by English wine-drinkers.</p>
-
-<p>The sulphate of potash which, by the action of
-sulphate of lime, is made to replace bitartrate, is so
-readily soluble that neither changes of temperature nor
-increase of alcohol, due to further fermentation, will
-throw it down; and thus the wine-maker and wine-merchant,
-without any guilty intent, and ignorant of
-what he is really doing, sophisticates the wine, alters its
-essential composition, and adds an impurity in doing
-what he supposes to be a mere clarification or removal
-of impurities.</p>
-
-<p>I have heard of genuine sherries being returned as
-bad to the shipper because they were genuine, and had
-been fined without sophistication.</p>
-
-<p>My own experience of genuine wines in wine-growing
-countries teaches me that such wines are rarely brilliant;
-and the variations of solubility of the natural salt of the
-grape, which I have already explained, shows why this
-is the case. If the drinkers of sherry and other white
-and golden wines would cease to demand the conventional
-brilliancy, they would soon be supplied with
-the genuine article, which really costs the wine-merchant
-less than the cooked product they now insist upon having.
-This foolish demand of his customers merely gives him
-a large amount of unnecessary trouble and annoyance.</p>
-
-<p>So far, the wine-merchant; but how about the consumer?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
-Simply that the substitution of a mineral acid—the
-sulphuric for a vegetable acid (the tartaric)—supplies
-him with a precipitant of lithic acid in his own
-body; that is, provides him with the source of gout,
-rheumatism, gravel, stone, &amp;c., with which <i>English</i> wine-drinkers
-are proverbially tortured.</p>
-
-<p>I am the more urgent in propounding this view of
-the subject, because I see plainly that not only the
-patients, but too commonly their medical advisers, do
-not understand it. When I was in the midst of these
-experiments I called upon a clerical neighbour, and
-found him in his study with his foot on a pillow, and
-groaning with gout. A decanter of pale, choice, very
-dry sherry was on the table. He poured out a glass for
-me and another for himself. I tasted it, and then perpetrated
-the unheard-of rudeness of denouncing the wine
-for which my host had paid so high a price. He knew
-a little chemistry, and I accordingly went home forthwith,
-brought back some chloride of barium, added it to
-his choice sherry, and showed him a precipitate which
-made him shudder. He drank no more dry sherry, and
-has had no serious relapse of gout.</p>
-
-<p>In this case his medical adviser prohibited port and
-advised dry sherry.</p>
-
-<p>The following from ‘The Brewer, Distiller, and Wine
-Manufacturer,’ by John Gardner (Churchill’s ‘Technological
-Handbooks,’ 1883), supports my view of the
-position of the wine-maker and wine-merchant. ‘Dupré
-and Thudicum have shown by experiment that this
-practice of plastering, as it is called, also reduces the
-yield of the liquid, as a considerable part of the wine
-mechanically combines with the gypsum and is lost.’
-When an adulteration—justly so-called—is practised,
-the object is to enable the perpetrator to obtain an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
-increased profit on selling the commodity at a given
-price. In this case an opposite result is obtained. The
-gypsum, or Spanish earth, is used in considerable quantity,
-and leaves a bulky residuum, which carries away
-some of the wine with it, and thus increases the cost to
-the seller of the saleable result.</p>
-
-<p>Having referred so often to dry wines, I should
-explain the chemistry of this so-called dryness. The
-fermentation of wine is the result of a vegetable growth,
-that of the yeast, a microscopic fungus (<i>Penicillium
-glaucum</i>). The must, or juice of the grape, obtains the
-germ spontaneously—probably from the atmosphere.
-Two distinct effects are produced by this fermentation
-or growth of fungus: first, the sugar of the must is converted
-into alcohol; second, more or less of the albuminous
-or nitrogenous matter of the must is consumed
-as food by the fungus. If uninterrupted, this fermentation
-goes on either until the supply of sufficient sugar
-is stopped, or until the supply of sufficient albuminous
-matter is stopped. The relative proportions of these
-determine which of the two shall be first exhausted.</p>
-
-<p>If the sugar is exhausted before the nitrogenous food
-of the fungus, a dry wine is produced; if the nitrogenous
-food is first consumed, the remaining unfermented sugar
-produces a sweet wine. If the sugar is greatly in excess,
-a <i>vin de liqueur</i> is the result, such as the Frontignac,
-Lunel, Rivesaltes, &amp;c., made from the muscat grape.</p>
-
-<p>The varieties of grape are very numerous. Rusby,
-in his ‘Visit to the Vineyards of Spain and France,’
-gives a list of 570 varieties, and, as far back as 1827,
-Cavalow enumerated more than 1,500 different wines in
-France alone.</p>
-
-<p>From the above it will be understood that, <i>cæteris
-paribus</i>, the poorer the grape the drier the wine; or that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
-a given variety of grape will yield a drier wine if grown
-where it ripens imperfectly, than if grown in a warmer
-climate. But the quantity of wine obtainable from a
-given acreage in the cooler climate is less than where
-the sun is more effective, and thus the <i>naturally</i> dry
-wines cost more to produce than the <i>naturally</i> sweet
-wines.</p>
-
-<p>The reader will understand, from what has already
-been stated concerning the origin of the difference between
-natural sweet wines and natural dry wines, that
-the conversion of either one into the other is not a difficult
-problem. Wine is a fashionable beverage in this
-country, and fashions fluctuate. These fluctuations are
-not accompanied with a corresponding variation in the
-chemical composition of any particular class of grapes,
-but somehow the wine produced therefrom obeys the
-laws of supply and demand. For some years past the
-demand for dry sherry has dominated in this country,
-though, as I am informed, the weathercock of fashion is
-now on the turn.</p>
-
-<p>One mode of satisfying this demand for dry wine is,
-of course, to make it from a grape which has little sugar
-and much albuminous matter, but in a given district this
-is not always possible. Another is to gather the grapes
-before they are fully ripened, but this involves a sacrifice
-in the yield of alcohol, and probably of flavour. Another
-method, obvious enough to the chemist, is to add as
-much albuminous or nitrogenous material as shall continue
-to feed the yeast fungus until all, or nearly all, the
-sugar in the grape shall be converted into alcohol, thus
-supplying strength and dryness (or salinity) simultaneously.
-Should these be excessive, the remedy is simple
-and cheap wherever water abounds. It should be noted
-that the quantity of sugar naturally contained in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
-ripe grape varies from 10 to 30 per cent.—a very large
-range. The quantity of alcohol varies proportionally
-when the must is fermented to dryness. According to
-Pavy, ‘there are dry sherries to be met with that are free
-from sugar,’ while in other wines the quantity of remaining
-sugar amounts to as much as 20 per cent.</p>
-
-<p>White of egg and gelatin are the most easily available
-and innocent forms of nitrogenous material that
-may be used for sustaining or renewing the fermentation
-of wines that are to be artificially dried. My inquiries in
-the trade lead me to conclude that this is not understood
-as well as it should be. Both white of egg and gelatin
-(in the form of isinglass or otherwise) are freely used
-for fining, and it is well enough known that wines that
-have been freely subjected to such fining keep better
-and become drier with age, but I have never yet met a
-wine-merchant who understood why, nor any sound explanation
-of the fact in the trade literature. When thus
-added to the wine already fermented, the effect is doubtless
-due to the promotion of a slow, secondary fermentation.
-The bulk of the gelatin or albumen is carried
-down with the sediment, but some remains in solution.
-There may be some doubt as to the albumen thus
-remaining, but none concerning the gelatin, which is
-freely soluble both in water and alcohol. The truly
-scientific mode of applying this principle would be to
-add the nitrogenous material to the must.</p>
-
-<p>I dwell thus upon this because, if fashion insists so
-imperatively upon dryness as to compel artificial drying,
-this method is the least objectionable, being a close imitation
-of natural drying, almost identical; while there
-are other methods of inducing fictitious dryness that are
-mischievous adulterations.</p>
-
-<p>Generally described, these consist in producing an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
-imitation of the natural salinity of the dry wine by the
-addition of factitious salts and fortifying with alcohol.
-The sugar remains, but is disguised thereby. It was a
-wine thus treated that first brought the subject of the
-sulphates, already referred to, under my notice. It contained
-a considerable quantity of sugar, but was not
-perceptibly sweet. It was very strong and decidedly
-acid; contained free sulphuric acid and alum, which, as
-all who have tasted it know, gives a peculiar sense of
-dryness to the palate.</p>
-
-<p>The sulphuring, plastering, and use of Spanish earth
-increase the dryness of a given wine by adding mineral
-acid and mineral salts. In a paper recently read before
-the French Academy by L. Magnier de la Source
-(‘Comptes Rendus,’ vol. xcviii. page 110), the author
-states that ‘plastering modifies the chemical characters
-of the colouring matter of the wine, and not only does
-the calcium sulphate decompose the potassium hydrogen
-tartrate (cream of tartar), with formation of calcium
-tartrate, potassium sulphate, and free tartaric acid, but
-it also decomposes the neutral organic compounds of
-potassium which exist in the juice of the grape.’ I quote
-from abstract in ‘Journal of the Chemical Society’ of
-May 1884.</p>
-
-<p>In the French ‘Journal of Pharmaceutical Chemistry,’
-vol. vi. pp. 118-123 (1882), is a paper, by P. Carles, in
-which the chemical and hygienic results of plastering
-are discussed. His general conclusion is, that the use
-of gypsum in clearing wines ‘renders them hurtful as
-beverages;’ that the gypsum acts ‘on the potassium
-bitartrate in the juice of the grape, forming calcium tartrate,
-tartaric acid, and potassium sulphate, a large proportion
-of the last two bodies remaining in the wine.’
-Unplastered wines contain about two grammes of <i>free<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
-acid</i> per litre; after plastering, they contain ‘double or
-treble that amount, and even more.’</p>
-
-<p>A German chemist, Griessmayer, and more recently
-another, Kaiser, have also studied this subject, and arrive
-at similar conclusions. Kaiser analysed wines which
-were plastered by adding gypsum to the must, that is to
-the juice before fermentation, and also samples in which
-the gypsum was added to the ‘finished wine,’ <i>i.e.</i> for
-fining, so-called. He found that ‘in the finished wine,
-by the addition of gypsum, the tartaric acid is replaced
-by sulphuric acid, and there is a perceptible increase in
-the calcium; the other constituents remain unaltered.’
-His conclusion is that the plastering of wine should
-be called adulteration, and treated accordingly, on the
-ground that the article in question is thereby deprived
-of its characteristic constituents, and others, not normally
-present, are introduced. This refers more especially
-to the plastering or gypsum fining of finished wines.
-(Biedermann’s ‘Centralblatt,’ 1881, pp. 632, 633.)</p>
-
-<p>In the paper above named, by P. Carles, we are told
-that ‘owing to the injurious nature of the impurities of
-plastered wines, endeavours have been made to free
-them from these by a method called “deplastering,” but
-the remedy proves worse than the defect.’ The samples
-analysed by Carles contained barium salts, barium chloride
-having been used to remove the sulphuric acid. In
-some cases excess of the barium salt was found in
-the wine, and in others barium sulphate was held in
-suspension.</p>
-
-<p>Closely following the abstract of this paper, in the
-‘Journal of the Chemical Society,’ is another from the
-French ‘Journal of Pharmaceutical Chemistry,’ vol. v.
-pp. 581-3, to which I now refer, by the way, for the instruction
-of claret-drinkers, who may not be aware of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
-the fact that the phylloxera destroyed all the claret
-grapes in certain districts of France, without stopping
-the manufacture or diminishing the export of claret
-itself. In this paper, by J. Lefort, we are told, as a
-matter of course, that ‘owing to the ravages of the
-phylloxera among the vines, substitutes for grape-juice
-are being introduced for the manufacture of wines; of
-these, the author specially condemns the use of beet-root
-sugar, since, during its fermentation, besides ethyl
-alcohol and aldehyde, it yields propyl, butyl, and amyl
-alcohols, which have been shown by Dujardin and
-Audigé to act as poisons in very small quantities.’</p>
-
-<p>In connection with this subject I may add that the
-French Government carefully protects its own citizens
-by rigid inspection and analysis of the wines offered for
-sale to French wine-drinkers; but does not feel bound
-to expend its funds and energies in hampering commerce
-by severe examination of the wines that are exported to
-‘John Bull et son Île,’ especially as John Bull is known
-to have a robust constitution. Thus, vast quantities of
-brilliantly coloured liquid, flavoured with orris root,
-which would not be allowed to pass the barriers of Paris,
-but must go somewhere, is drunk in England at a cost
-of four times as much as the Frenchman pays for genuine
-grape-wine. The coloured concoction being brighter,
-skilfully cooked, and duly labelled to imitate the products
-of real or imaginary celebrated vineyards, is preferred
-by the English <i>gourmet</i> to anything that can be
-made from simple grape-juice.</p>
-
-<p>I should add that a character somewhat similar to
-that of natural dryness is obtained by mixing with the
-grape-juice wine a secondary product, obtained by adding
-water to the <i>marc</i> (<i>i.e.</i> the residue of skins, &amp;c., that
-remains after pressing out the must or juice); a minimum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
-of sugar is dissolved in the water, and this liquor is fermented.
-The skins and seeds contain much tannic acid
-or astringent matter, and this roughness imposes upon
-many wine-drinkers, provided the price charged for the
-wine thus cheapened be sufficiently high.</p>
-
-<p>Some years ago, while resident in Birmingham, an
-enterprising manufacturing druggist consulted me on a
-practical difficulty which he was unable to solve. He
-had succeeded in producing a very fine claret (Château
-Digbeth, let us call it) by duly fortifying with silent
-spirit a solution of cream of tartar, and flavouring this
-with a small quantity of orris root. Tasted in the dark
-it was all that could be desired for introducing a new
-industry to Birmingham; but the wine was white, and
-every colouring material that he had tried producing
-the required tint marred the flavour and bouquet of the
-pure Château Digbeth. He might have used one of the
-magenta dyes, but as these were prepared by boiling
-aniline over dry arsenic acid, and my Birmingham friend
-was burdened with a conscience, he refrained from
-thus applying one of the recent triumphs of chemical
-science.</p>
-
-<p>This was previous to the invasion of France by the
-phylloxera. During the early period of that visitation,
-French enterprise being more powerfully stimulated and
-less scrupulous than that of Birmingham, made use of
-the aniline dyes for colouring spurious claret to such an
-extent that the French Government interfered, and a
-special test paper named Œnokrine was invented by
-MM. Lainville and Roy, and sold in Paris for the purpose
-of detecting falsely-coloured wines.</p>
-
-<p>The mode of using the Œnokrine is as follows:
-‘A slip of the paper is steeped in pure wine for about
-five seconds, briskly shaken, in order to remove excess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
-of liquid, and then placed on a sheet of white paper to
-serve as a standard. A second slip of the test-paper
-is then steeped in the suspected wine in the same
-manner, and laid beside the former. It is asserted that
-<small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>100,000</sub></small> of magenta is sufficient to give the paper a
-violet shade, whilst a larger quantity produces a carmine
-red. With genuine red wine the colour produced is a
-greyish blue, which becomes lead-coloured on drying.’ I
-copy the above from the ‘Quarterly Journal of Science’
-of April 1877. The editor adds that the inventors of
-this paper have discovered a method of removing the
-magenta from wines without injuring their quality, ‘a
-fact of some importance, if it be true that several hundred
-thousand hectolitres of wine sophisticated with
-magenta are in the hands of the wine-merchants’ (a
-hectolitre is = 22 gallons).</p>
-
-<p>Another simple test that was recommended at the
-time was to immerse a small wisp of raw silk<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> in the
-suspected wine, keeping it there at a boiling heat for a
-few minutes. Aniline colours dye the silk permanently;
-the natural colour of the grape is easily washed out. I
-find on referring to the ‘Chemical News,’ the ‘Journal
-of the Chemical Society,’ the ‘Comptes Rendus,’ and
-other scientific periodicals of the period of the phylloxera
-plague, such a multitude of methods for testing false
-colouring materials that I give up in despair my original
-intention of describing them in detail. It would demand
-far more space than the subject deserves. I will, however,
-just name a few of the more harmless colouring
-adulterants that are stated to have been used, and for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
-which special tests have been devised by French and
-German chemists:</p>
-
-<p>Beet-root, peach-wood, elderberries, mulberries, log-wood,
-privet-berries, litmus, ammoniacal cochineal, Fernambucca-wood,
-phytolacca, burnt sugar, extract of
-rhatany, bilberries; ‘jerupiga’ or ‘geropiga,’ a compound
-of elder juice, brown sugar, grape juice, and
-crude Portuguese brandy’ (for choice tawny port);
-‘tincture of saffron, turmeric, or safflower’ (for golden
-sherry); red poppies, mallow flowers, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>Those of my readers who have done anything in
-practical chemistry are well acquainted with blue and
-red litmus, and the general fact that such vegetable
-colours change from blue to red when exposed to an
-acid, and return to blue when the acid is overcome by
-an alkali. The colouring matter of the grape is one of
-these. Mulder and Maumené have given it the name of
-<i>œnocyan</i> or <i>wine-blue</i>, as its colour, when neutral, is blue;
-the red colour of genuine wines is due to the presence
-of tartaric and acetic acid acting upon the wine-blue.
-There are a few purple wines, their colour being due to
-unusual absence of acid. The original vintage which
-gave celebrity to port wine is an example of this.</p>
-
-<p>The bouquet of wine is usually described as due to
-the presence of ether, <i>œnanthic</i> ether, which is naturally
-formed during the fermentation of grape juice, and is
-itself a variable mixture of other ethers, such as caprilic,
-caproic, &amp;c. The oil of the seed of the grape contributes
-to the bouquet. The fancy values of fancy wines
-are largely due, or more properly speaking <i>were</i> largely
-due, to peculiarities of bouquet. These peculiar wines
-became costly because their supply was limited, only a
-certain vineyard, in some cases of very small area, producing
-the whole crop of the fancy article. The high<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
-price once established, and the demand far exceeding
-the possibilities of supply from the original source, other
-and resembling wines are now sold under the name of
-the celebrated locality with the bouquet or <i>a</i> bouquet
-artificially introduced. It has thus come about in the
-ordinary course of business that the dearest wines of
-the choicest brands are those which are the most likely
-to be sophisticated. The flavouring of wine, the imparting
-of delicate bouquet, is a high art, and is costly.
-It is only upon high-priced wines that such costly operations
-can be practised. Simple ordinary grape-juice—as
-I have already stated—is so cheap when and where
-its quality is the highest, <i>i.e.</i> in good seasons and suitable
-climates, that adulteration with anything but water
-renders the adulterated product more costly than the
-genuine. When there is a good vintage it does not pay
-even to add sugar and water to the marc or residue, and
-press this a second time. It is more profitable to use
-it for making inferior brandy, or wine oil, <i>huile de marc</i>,
-or even for fodder or manure.</p>
-
-<p>This, however, only applies where the demand is for
-simple genuine wine, a demand almost unknown in
-England, where connoisseurs abound who pass their
-glasses horizontally under their noses, hold them up to
-the light to look for beeswings and absurd transparency,
-knowingly examine the brand on the cork, and otherwise
-offer themselves as willing dupes to be pecuniarily immolated
-on the great high altar of the holy shrine of
-costly humbug.</p>
-
-<p>Some years ago I was at Frankfort, on my way to
-the Tyrol and Venice, and there saw, at a few paces
-before me, an unquestionable Englishman, with an ill-slung
-knapsack. I spoke to him, earned his gratitude
-at once by showing him how to dispense with that knapsack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
-abomination, the breast-strap. We chummed, and
-put up at a genuine German hostelry of my selection,
-the Gasthaus zum Schwanen. Here we supped with a
-multitude of natives, to the great amusement of my
-new friend, who had hitherto halted at hotels devised
-for Englishmen. The handmaiden served us with wine
-in tumblers, and we both pronounced it excellent. My
-new friend was enthusiastic; the bouquet was superior
-to anything he had ever met with before, and if it could
-only be fined—it was not by any means bright—it would
-be invaluable. He then took me into his confidence.
-He was in the wine trade, assisting in his father’s
-business; the ‘governor’ had told him to look out in
-the course of his travels, as there were obscure vineyards
-here and there producing very choice wines that
-might be contracted for at very low prices. This was
-one of them; here was good business. If I would help
-him to learn all about it, presentation cases of wine
-should be poured upon me for ever after.</p>
-
-<p>I accordingly asked the handmaiden, ‘Was für
-Wein?’ &amp;c. Her answer was, ‘Apfel-Wein.’ She
-was frightened at my burst of laughter, and the young
-wine-merchant also imagined that he had made acquaintance
-with a lunatic, until I translated the answer,
-and told him that we had been drinking cider. We
-called for more, and <i>then</i> recognised the ‘curious’
-bouquet at once.</p>
-
-<p>The manufacture of bouquets has made great progress
-of late, and they are much cheaper than formerly.
-Their chief source is coal-tar, the refuse from gas-works.
-That most easily produced is the essence of bitter
-almonds, which supplies a ‘nutty’ flavour and bouquet.
-Anybody may make it by simply adding benzol (the
-most volatile portion of the coal-tar), in small portions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
-at a time, to warm, fuming nitric acid. On cooling and
-diluting the mixture, a yellow oil, which solidifies at a
-little above the freezing point of water, is formed. It
-may be purified by washing first with water, and then
-with a weak solution of carbonate of soda to remove
-the excess of acid. It is now largely used in cookery
-as essence of bitter almonds. Its old perfumery name
-was Essence of Mirbane.</p>
-
-<p>By more elaborate operations on the coal-tar product,
-a number of other essences and bouquets of curiously
-imitative character are produced. One of the most
-familiar of these is the essence of jargonelle pears,
-which flavours the ‘pear drops’ of the confectioner so
-cunningly; another is raspberry flavour, by the aid of
-which a mixture of fig-seeds and apple-pulp, duly
-coloured, may be converted into a raspberry jam
-that would deceive our Prime Minister. I do not say
-that it now is so used (though I believe it has been),
-for the simple reason that wholesale jam-makers now
-grow their own fruit so cheaply that the genuine article
-costs no more than the sham. Raspberries can be
-grown and gathered at a cost of about twopence per
-pound.</p>
-
-<p>With wine at 60<i>s.</i> to 100<i>s.</i> per dozen the case is different.
-The price leaves an ample margin for the conversion
-of ‘Italian reds,’ Catalans, and other sound
-ordinary wines into any fancy brands that may happen
-to be in fashion. Such being the case, the mere fact that
-certain emperors or potentates have bought up the whole
-produce of the château that is named on the labels does
-not interfere with the market supply, which is strictly
-regulated by the demand.<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></p>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p>
-<p>Visiting a friend in the trade, he offered me a glass
-of the wine that he drank himself when at home, and
-supplied to his own family. He asked my opinion of it.
-I replied that I thought it was genuine grape-juice, resembling
-that which I had been accustomed to drink at
-country inns in the Côte d’Or (Burgundy) and in Italy.
-He told me that he imported it directly from a district
-near to that I first named, and could supply it at 12<i>s.</i>
-per dozen with a fair profit. Afterwards, when calling
-at his place of business in the West-end, he told me that
-one of his best customers had just been tasting the
-various samples of dinner claret then remaining on the
-table, some of them expensive, and that he had chosen
-the same as I had, but what was my friend to do? Had
-he quoted 12<i>s.</i> per dozen, he would have lost one of
-his best customers, and sacrificed his reputation as a
-high-class wine-merchant; therefore he quoted 54<i>s.</i>, and
-both buyer and seller were perfectly satisfied: the wine-merchant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
-made a large profit, and the customer obtained
-what he demanded—a good wine at a ‘respectable price.’
-He could not insult his friends by putting cheap 12<i>s.</i>
-trash on <i>his</i> table.</p>
-
-<p>Here arises an ethical question. Was the wine-merchant
-justified in making this charge under the circumstances;
-or, otherwise stated, who was to blame for
-the crookedness of the transaction? I say the customer;
-my verdict is, ‘Sarve him right!’</p>
-
-<p>In reference to wines, and still more to cigars, and
-some other useless luxuries, the typical Englishman is
-a victim to a prevalent commercial superstition. He
-blindly assumes that price must necessarily represent
-quality, and therefore shuts his eyes and opens his mouth
-to swallow anything with complete satisfaction, provided
-that he pays a good price for it at a respectable establishment,
-<i>i.e.</i> one where only high-priced articles are
-sold.</p>
-
-<p>If any reader thinks I speak too strongly, let him
-ascertain the market price per lb. of the best Havanna
-tobacco leaves where they are grown, also the cost of
-twisting them into cigar shape (a skilful workwoman can
-make a thousand in a day), then add to the sum of these
-the cost of packing, carriage, and duty. He will be rather
-astonished at the result of this arithmetical problem.</p>
-
-<p>If these things were necessaries of life, or contributed
-in any degree or manner to human welfare, I should
-protest indignantly; but seeing what they are and what
-they do, I rather rejoice at the limitation of consumption
-effected by their fancy prices.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a><br />
-
-<small>THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">In</span> my introductory chapter I said, ‘The fact that we
-use the digestive and nutrient apparatus of sheep, oxen,
-&amp;c., for the preparation of our food is merely a transitory
-barbarism, to be ultimately superseded when my
-present subject is sufficiently understood and applied to
-enable us to prepare the constituents of the vegetable
-kingdom to be as easily assimilated as the prepared
-grass which we call beef and mutton.’</p>
-
-<p>This sentence, when it appeared in ‘Knowledge,’
-brought me in communication with a very earnest body
-of men and women, who at considerable social inconvenience
-are abstaining from flesh food, and doing it
-purely on principle. Some people sneer at them, call
-them ‘crotchetty,’ ‘faddy,’ &amp;c., but, for my own part, I
-have a great respect for crotchetty people, having learned
-long ago that every first great step that has ever been
-taken in the path of human progress was denounced as
-a crotchet by those it was leaving behind. This respect
-is quite apart from the consideration of whether I agree
-or disagree with the crotchets themselves.</p>
-
-<p>I therefore willingly respond to the request that I
-should explain more fully my view of this subject. The
-fact that there are now in London eight exclusively
-vegetarian restaurants, and all of them flourishing, shows
-that it is one of wide interest.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>At the outset it is necessary to brush aside certain
-false issues that are commonly raised in discussing this
-subject. The question is not whether we are herbivorous
-or carnivorous animals. It is perfectly certain that we
-are neither. The carnivora feed on flesh <i>alone</i>, and eat
-that flesh raw. Nobody proposes that we should do
-this. The herbivora eat raw grass. Nobody suggests
-that we should follow <i>their</i> example.</p>
-
-<p>It is perfectly clear that man cannot be classed with
-the carnivorous animals, nor the herbivorous animals,
-nor with the graminivorous animals. His teeth are not
-constructed for munching and grinding raw grain, nor
-his digestive organs for assimilating such grain in this
-condition.</p>
-
-<p>He is not even to be classed with the omnivorous
-animals. He stands apart from all as <span class="smcap">The Cooking
-Animal</span>.</p>
-
-<p>It is true that there was a time when our ancestors
-ate raw flesh, including that of each other.</p>
-
-<p>In the limestone caverns of this and other European
-countries we find human bones gnawed by human teeth,
-and split open by flint implements for the evident purpose
-of extracting the marrow, according to the domestic
-economy of the period.</p>
-
-<p>The shell mounds that these prehistoric bipeds have
-left behind, show that mussels, oysters, and other mollusca
-were also eaten raw, and they doubtless varied the
-menu with snails, slugs, and worms, as the remaining
-Australian savages still do. Besides these they probably
-included roots, succulent plants, nuts, and such fruit as
-then existed.</p>
-
-<p>There are many among us who are very proud of
-their ancient lineage, and who think it honourable to go
-back as far as possible and to maintain the customs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
-of their forefathers; but they all seem to draw a line
-somewhere, none desiring to go as far back as to
-their inter-glacial troglodytic ancestors, and, therefore,
-I need not discuss the desirability of restoring their
-dietary.</p>
-
-<p>All human beings became cooks as soon as they
-learned how to make a fire, and have all continued to be
-cooks ever since.</p>
-
-<p>We should, therefore, look at this vegetarian question
-from the point of view of prepared food, which excludes
-nearly all comparison with the food of the brute creation.
-I say ‘nearly all,’ because there is one case in
-which all the animals that approach the nearest to ourselves—the
-mammalia—are provided naturally with a
-specially prepared food, viz. the mother’s milk. The
-composition of this preparation appears to me to throw
-more light than anything else upon this vegetarian controversy,
-and yet it seems to have been entirely overlooked.</p>
-
-<p>The milk prepared for the young of the different
-animals in the laboratory or kitchen of Nature is surely
-adapted to their structure as regards natural food requirements.
-Without assuming that the human dietetic
-requirements are identical with either of the other
-mammals, we may learn something concerning our approximation
-to one class or another by comparing the
-composition of human milk with that of the animals in
-question.</p>
-
-<p>I find ready to hand in Dr. Miller’s ‘Chemistry’,
-vol. iii., a comparative statement of the mean of several
-analyses of the milk of woman, cow, goat, ass, sheep, and
-bitch. The latter is a moderately carnivorous animal,
-nearly approaching the omnivorous character commonly
-ascribed to man. The following is the statement:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Milk of some mammals">
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="btlr">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Woman</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Cow</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Goat</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Ass</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Sheep</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Bitch</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Water</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">88·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">87·4</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">82·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">90·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">85·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">66·3</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Fat</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">1·4</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">14·8</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Sugar and soluble salts</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·9</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">5·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·5</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">6·4</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">4·2</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·9</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Nitrogenous compounds and insoluble salts&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·9</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·6</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">9·0</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">1·7</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">5·7</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">16·0</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p>According to this it is quite evident that Nature
-regards our food requirements as approaching much
-nearer to the herbivora than to the carnivora, and has
-provided for us accordingly.</p>
-
-<p>If we are to begin the building-up of our bodies on a
-food more nearly resembling that of the herbivora than
-that of the carnivora, it is only reasonable to assume
-that we should continue on the same principle.</p>
-
-<p>The particulars of the difference are instructive. The
-food which Nature provides for the human infant differs
-from that provided for the young carnivorous animal, just
-in the same way as flesh food differs from the cultivated
-and cooked vegetables and fruit within easy reach of man.</p>
-
-<p>These contain less fat, less nitrogenous matter, more
-water, and more sugar (or starch, which becomes sugar
-during digestion) than animal food.</p>
-
-<p>Those who advocate the use of flesh food usually do
-so on the ground that it is more nutritious, contains more
-nitrogenous material and more fat than vegetable food.
-So much the worse for the human being, says Nature,
-when <i>she</i> prepares the food.</p>
-
-<p>But as a matter of practical fact there are no flesh-eaters
-among us, none who avail themselves of this higher
-proportion of albuminoids and fat. We all practically
-admit every day in eating our ordinary English dinner,
-that this excess of nitrogenous matter and fat is bad;
-we do so by mixing the meat with that particular vegetable
-which contains an excess of the carbo-hydrates<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>
-(starch) with the smallest available quantity of albuminoids
-and fat. The slice of meat, diluted with the lump
-of potato, brings the whole down to about the average
-composition of a fairly-arranged vegetarian repast. When
-I speak of a vegetarian repast, I do not mean mere cabbages
-and potatoes, but properly selected, well cooked, nutritious
-vegetable food. As an example, I will take Count
-Rumford’s No. 1 soup, already described, without the
-bread, and in like manner take beef and potatoes without
-bread. Taking original weights, and assuming that
-the lump of potato weighed the same as the slice of meat,
-we get the following composition according to the table
-given by Pavy, page 410:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="nutrients off beef and potatoes">
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="btlr">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Water</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Albumen</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Starch</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Sugar</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Fat</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Salts</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Lean beef</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">72·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">19·30</td>
-<td align="center" class="br">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="center" class="br">&mdash;</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">3·60</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">5·10</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Potatoes</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">75·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">2·10</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">18·80</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·20</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">0·20</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">0·70</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="right" class="blr">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">147·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">21·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">18·80</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·20</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·80</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">5·80</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Mean composition of mixture&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">73·50</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">10·70</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">9·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">1·60</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">1·90</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">2·90</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p>Rumford’s soup (without the bread afterwards added)
-was composed of equal measures of peas and pearl
-barley, or barley meal, and nearly equal weights. Their
-percentage composition as stated in the above-named
-table is as follows:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Nutrients of peas and barley">
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="btlr">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Water</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Albumen</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Starch</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Sugar</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Fat</td>
-<td align="left" class="btrb">Salts</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Peas</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">15·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">23·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">55·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·10</td>
-<td align="right" class="br">2·50</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">Barley meal</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">15·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">6·30</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">69·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">4·90</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">2·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">2·00</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blr">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">30·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">29·30</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">134·80</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">6·90</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">4·50</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">4·50</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left" class="blrb">Mean composition of mixture&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">15·00</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">14·65</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">62·40</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">3·45</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">2·25</td>
-<td align="right" class="brb">2·25</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>Here, then, in 100 parts of the material of Rumford’s
-halfpenny dinner, as compared with the ‘mixed diet,’ we
-have 40 per cent. more of nitrogenous food, more than
-six and a half times as much carbo-hydrate in the form
-of starch, more than double the quantity of sugar, about
-17 per cent. more of fat, and only a little less of salts
-(supplied by the salt which Rumford added). Thus the
-‘mixed diet’ falls short in all the costly constituents, and
-only excels by its abundance of very cheap water.</p>
-
-<p>This analysis supplies the explanation of what has
-puzzled many inquirers, and encouraged some sneerers
-at this work of the great scientific philanthropist, viz.
-that he allowed less than five ounces of solids for each
-man’s dinner. He did so and found it sufficient, because
-he was supplying far more nutritious material than beef
-and potatoes; his five ounces was more satisfactory than
-a pound of beef and potatoes, three-fourths of which is
-water, for which water John Bull blindly pays a shilling
-or more per pound when he buys his prime steak.</p>
-
-<p>Rumford added the water at pump cost, and, by long
-boiling, caused some of it to unite with the solid materials
-(by the hydration I have described), and then
-served the combination in the form of porridge, raising
-each portion to 19¾ ounces.</p>
-
-<p>I might multiply such examples to prove the fallacy
-of the prevailing notions concerning the nutritive value
-of the ‘mixed diet,’ a fallacy which is merely an inherited
-epidemic, a baseless physical superstition.</p>
-
-<p>I will, however, just add one more example for comparison—viz.
-the Highlander’s porridge. The following
-is the composition of oatmeal—also from Pavy’s table:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Pavy's table of oatmeal">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Water</td>
-<td align="right">15·00</td></tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Albumen&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">12·60</td></tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Starch</td>
-<td align="right">58·40</td></tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Sugar</td>
-<td align="right">5·40</td></tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Fat</td>
-<td align="right">5·60</td></tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Salts</td>
-<td align="right">3·00</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>Compare this with the beef and potatoes above, and
-it will be seen that it is <i>superior in every item excepting
-the water</i>. One hundred ounces of oatmeal contain 1·9
-ounce more of albumen than is contained in 100 ounces
-of beef and potatoes mixed in equal proportions. The
-100 ounces of oatmeal supplies 39·6 ounces more of
-carbo-hydrate (starch). The 100 ounces of oatmeal is
-superior to the extent of 3·8 ounces in sugar. It has the
-advantage by 3·7 ounces in fat, and 0·9 ounce in salts,
-but the mixed diet beats the oatmeal by containing
-58½ ounces more water; nearly four times as much.
-This deficiency is readily supplied in the cookery.</p>
-
-<p>These figures explain a puzzle that may have suggested
-itself to some of my thoughtful readers—viz. the
-smallness of the quantity of dry oatmeal that is used in
-making a large portion of porridge. If we could, in like
-manner, see our portion of beef or mutton and potatoes
-reduced to dryness, the smallness of the quantity of
-actually solid food required for a meal would be similarly
-manifest. An alderman’s banquet in this condition
-would barely fill a breakfast cup.</p>
-
-<p>I cannot at all agree with those of my vegetarian
-friends who denounce flesh-meat as a prolific source of
-disease, as inflaming the passions, and generally demoralising.
-Neither am I at all disposed to make a religion
-of either eating, or drinking, or abstaining. There
-are certain albuminoids, certain carbo-hydrates, certain
-hydro-carbons, and certain salts demanded for our sustenance.
-Excepting in fruit, these are not supplied by
-nature in a fit condition for <i>our</i> use. They must be prepared.
-Whether we do <i>all</i> the preparation in the kitchen
-by bringing the produce of the earth directly there, or
-whether, on account of our ignorance and incapacity as
-cooks, we pass our food through the stomach, intestines,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
-blood-vessels, &amp;c., of sheep and oxen, as a substitute for
-the first stages of scientific cookery, the result is about
-the same as regards the dietic result.</p>
-
-<p>Flesh feeding is a nasty practice, but I see no grounds
-for denouncing it as physiologically injurious, excepting
-in the fact that the liability to gout, rheumatism, and
-neuralgia is increased by it.</p>
-
-<p>In my youthful days I was on friendly terms with a
-sheep that belonged to a butcher in Jermyn Street. This
-animal, for some reason, had been spared in its lamb-hood,
-and was reared as the butcher’s pet. It was well-known
-in St. James’s by following the butcher’s men
-through the streets like a dog. I have seen this sheep
-steal mutton-chops and devour them raw. It preferred
-beef or mutton to grass. It enjoyed robust health, and
-was by no means ferocious.</p>
-
-<p>It was merely a disgusting animal, with excessively
-perverted appetite; a perversion that supplies very
-suggestive material for human meditation.</p>
-
-<p>My own experiments on myself, and the multitude
-of other experiments that I am daily witnessing among
-men of all occupations who have cast aside flesh food
-after many years of mixed diet, prove incontestably that
-flesh food is quite unnecessary; and also that men and
-women who emulate the aforesaid sheep to the mild
-extent of consuming daily about two ounces of animal
-tissue combined with six ounces of water, and dilute
-this with such weak vegetable food as the potato, are
-not measurably altered thereby so far as physical health
-is concerned.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></p>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p>
-<p>On economical grounds, however, the difference is
-enormous. If all Englishmen were vegetarians and fish-eaters,
-the whole aspect of the country would be changed.
-It would be a land of gardens and orchards, instead of
-gradually reverting to prairie grazing-ground as at
-present. The unemployed miserables of our great towns,
-the inhabitants of our union workhouses, and all our
-rogues and vagabonds, would find ample and suitable
-employment in agriculture. Every acre of land would
-require three or four times as much labour as at present,
-and feed five or six times as many people.</p>
-
-<p>No sentimental exaggeration is demanded for the
-recommendation of such a reform as this.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a><br />
-
-<small>MALTED FOOD.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">A few</span> years ago the ‘farmers’ friends’ were very
-sanguine on the subject of using malt as cattle food. At
-agricultural meetings throughout the country the iniquitous
-malt-tax was eloquently denounced because it stood
-in the way of this great fodder reform. Then the malt-tax
-was repealed, and forthwith the subject fell out of
-hearing. Why was this?</p>
-
-<p>The idea of malt feeding was theoretically sound.
-By the malting of barley or other grain its diastase is
-made to act upon its insoluble starch, and to convert
-this more or less completely into soluble dextrin, a
-change which is absolutely necessary as a part of the
-business of digestion. Therefore, if you feed cattle on
-malted grain instead of raw grain, you supply them
-with a food so prepared that a part of the business of
-digestion is already done for them, and their nutrition is
-thereby advanced.</p>
-
-<p>From what I am able to learn, the reason why this
-hopeful theory has not been carried out is simply that
-it does not ‘pay.’ The advantage in fattening the cattle
-is not sufficient to remunerate the farmers for the extra
-cost of the malted food.</p>
-
-<p>This may be the case with oxen, but it does not
-follow that it should be the same with human beings.
-Cattle feed on grass, mangold-wurzels, &amp;c., in their raw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>
-state, but we cannot; and, as I have already shown,
-we are not graminivorous in the manner they are; we
-cannot digest raw wheat, barley, oats, or maize.</p>
-
-<p>We cannot do this because we are not supplied with
-such effective natural grinding apparatus as they have
-in their mouths, and, further, because we have a much
-smaller supply of saliva and a shorter alimentary canal.</p>
-
-<p>We can easily supply our natural deficiencies in the
-matter of grinding, and do so by means of our flour mills,
-but at first thought the idea of finding an artificial
-representative of the saliva of oxen does not recommend
-itself. When, however, it is understood that the chief
-active principle of the saliva so closely resembles the
-diastase of malt that it has received the name of
-‘animal diastase,’ and is probably the same compound,
-the aspect of the problem changes.</p>
-
-<p>Not only is this the case with the secretion from
-the glands surrounding the mouth, but the pancreas
-which is concerned in a later stage of digestion is a
-gland so similar to the salivary glands that in ordinary
-cookery both are dressed and served as ‘sweetbreads;’
-the ‘pancreatic juice’ is a liquid closely resembling
-saliva, and contains a similar diastase, or substance that
-converts starch into dextrin, and from dextrin to sugar.
-Lehmann says, ‘It is now indubitably established that
-the pancreatic juice possesses this sugar-forming power
-in a far higher degree than the saliva.’</p>
-
-<p>Besides this, there is another sugar-forming secretion,
-the ‘intestinal juice,’ which operates on the starch of the
-food as it passes along the intestinal canal.</p>
-
-<p>This being the case, we should, in exercising our
-privilege as cooking animals, be able to assist the
-digestive functions of the saliva, the pancreatic and intestinal
-secretions, just as we help our teeth by the flour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>
-mill, and the means of doing this is offered by the
-diastase of malt.</p>
-
-<p>In accordance with this reasoning I have made some
-experiments on a variety of our common vegetable
-foods, by simply raising them—in contact with water—to
-the temperature most favourable to the converting
-action of diastase (140° to 150° Fahrenheit), and then
-adding a little malt extract or malt flour.</p>
-
-<p>This extract may be purchased ready made, or prepared
-by soaking crushed or ground malt in warm
-water, leaving it for an hour or two or longer, and then
-pressing out the liquid.</p>
-
-<p>I find that oatmeal-porridge when thus treated is
-thinned by the conversion of the bulk of its insoluble
-starch into soluble dextrin; that boiled rice is similarly
-thinned; that a stiff jelly of arrowroot is at once rendered
-watery, and its conversion into dextrin is demonstrated
-by its altered action when a solution of iodine is added
-to it. It no longer becomes suddenly of a deep blue
-colour as when it was starch.</p>
-
-<p>Sago and tapioca are similarly changed, but not so
-completely as arrowroot. This is evidently because they
-contain a little nitrogenous matter and cellulose, which,
-when stirred, give a milkiness to the otherwise clear and
-limpid solution of dextrin.</p>
-
-<p>Pease-pudding when thus treated behaves very instructively.
-Instead of remaining as a fairly uniform
-paste, it partially separates into paste and clear liquid,
-the paste being the cellulose and vegetable casein, the
-liquid a solution of the dextrin or converted starch.</p>
-
-<p>Mashed turnips, carrots, potatoes, &amp;c., behave similarly,
-the general results showing that so far as starch is
-concerned there is no practical difficulty in obtaining a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
-conversion of the starch into dextrin by means of a very
-small quantity of maltose.</p>
-
-<p>Hasty pudding made of boiled flour is similarly
-altered. Generally speaking, the degree of visible alteration
-is proportionate to the amount of starch, but the
-more intimately it is mixed with the cellulose, the more
-slowly the change occurs.</p>
-
-<p>I have made malt-porridge by using malt flour
-instead of oatmeal. I found it rather too sweet, but
-on mixing about one part of malt flour with four to
-eight parts of oatmeal, an excellent and easily digestible
-porridge is obtained, and one which I strongly recommend
-as a most valuable food for strong people and
-invalids, children and adults.</p>
-
-<p>Further details of these experiments would be tedious,
-and are not necessary, as they display no chemical
-changes that are new to science, and the practical results
-may be briefly stated without such details, as follows.</p>
-
-<p>I recommend, first, the production of malt flour by
-grinding and sifting malted wheat, malted barley, or
-malted oats, or all of these, and the retailing of this at
-its fair value as a staple article of food. Every shopkeeper
-who sells flour or meal of any kind should sell this.</p>
-
-<p>Secondly, that this malted flour, or the extract
-made from it as above described, be mixed with the
-ordinary flour used in making pastry, biscuits, bread, &amp;c.,<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a>
-and with all kinds of porridge, pastry, pea-soup, and
-other farinaceous preparations, and that when these are</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p>
-<p>cooked they should be slowly heated at first, in order
-that the maltose may act upon the starch at its most
-favourable temperature (140° to 150° Fahr.).</p>
-
-<p>Thirdly, when practicable, such preparations as porridge,
-pea-soup, pastry, &amp;c., should be prepared by first
-cooking them in the usual manner, then stirring the malt
-meal or malt extract into them, and allowing the mixture
-to remain for some time. This time may vary from a few
-minutes to several hours or days—the longer the better.
-I have proved by experiments on boiled rice, oatmeal-porridge,
-pease-pudding, &amp;c., that complete conversion
-may thus be effected. When the temperature of 140°
-to 150° is carefully obtained, the work of conversion is
-done in half an hour or less. At 212° it is arrested. At
-temperatures below 140°, it proceeds with a slowness
-varying with the depression of temperature. The most
-rapid result is obtained by first cooking the food as
-above, then reducing the temperature to 150°, and adding
-the malt flour or malt extract, and maintaining the
-temperature for a short time. The advantage of previous
-cooking is due to the preliminary breaking-up and
-hydration of the starch granules.</p>
-
-<p>Fourthly, besides the malt meal or malt flour, I recommend
-the manufacture of what I may call ‘pearl malt,’
-that is, malt treated as barley is treated in the manufacture
-of pearl barley. This pearl malt may be largely
-used in soups, puddings, and for other purposes evident
-to the practical cook. It may be found preferable to the
-malt flour for some of the above-named purposes, especially
-for making a <i>purée</i> like Rumford’s soup.</p>
-
-<p>I strongly recommend such a soup to vegetarians—<i>i.e.</i>
-the Rumford soup No. 1, already described, but with
-the admixture of a little pearl malt with the pearl barley
-(or malt flour failing the pearl malt). A small proportion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
-of malt (one-twentieth, for example) has a considerable
-effect, but a larger amount is desirable. In all
-cases this quantity may be regulated by experience and
-according to whether a decided malt flavour is or is not
-preferred.</p>
-
-<p>I have not yet met with any malted maize commercially
-prepared, but my experiments on a small
-scale show that it is a very desirable product.</p>
-
-<p>As regards the action of vegetable diastase on cellulose,
-whether it is capable of breaking it up or effecting
-its hydration and conversion into digestible sugar, I am
-not yet able to speak positively, but the following facts
-are promising.</p>
-
-<p>I treated sago, tapioca, and rice with the maltose as
-above, and found that at a temperature of 140° to 150°
-all the starch disappears in about half an hour, as proved
-by the iodine test. Still the liquid was not clear: flocculi
-of cellulose, &amp;c., were suspended in it. I kept this on
-the top of a stove several days, where the temperature
-of the liquid varied from 100° to 180° while the fire was
-burning, but fell to that of the atmosphere during the
-night. The quantity of the insoluble matter considerably
-diminished, but it was not entirely removed.</p>
-
-<p>This led me to make further experiments, still in
-progress, on the ensilage of human food with the aid of
-diastase. These experiments are on a small scale, and
-are sufficiently satisfactory to justify more effective
-trials on a larger scale. It is well known that ordinary
-ensilage succeeds much better on a large than on a small
-scale, and I have no doubt that such will be the case
-with my diastase ensilage of oatmeal, pease-pudding,
-mashed roots, &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p>I am also treating such vegetable food material with
-various acids for the same purpose.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>When by these or other means we convert vegetable
-tissue into dextrin and sugar, as it is naturally converted
-in the ripening pear, and as it has been artificially converted
-in our laboratories, we shall extend our food
-supplies in an incalculable degree. Swedes, turnips,
-mangold-wurzels, &amp;c., will become delicate diet for invalids;
-horse beans, far more nutritious than beef; delicate
-biscuits and fancy pastry, as well as ordinary bread,
-will be produced from sawdust and wood shavings, plus
-a little leguminous flour to supplement the nitrogenous
-requirement.</p>
-
-<p>This may even be done now. Long ago I converted
-an old pocket-handkerchief and part of an old shirt into
-sugar, but not profitably as a commercial transaction.
-Other chemists have done the like in their laboratories.
-It is yet to be done in the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>I should add that the sugar referred to in all the
-above is not cane sugar, but the sugar corresponding to
-that in the grape and in honey. It is less sweet than
-cane or beet sugar, but is a better food.</p>
-
-<p>I have already spoken of the difficulty presented by
-the opposite nature of the solvents demanded by the
-casein and the cellulose in my experiments on the ensilage
-of pease-pudding. The action of diastase indicates
-a possible solution of this difficulty. Let us suppose
-that a sufficient amount of potash is used to dissolve
-the casein, its solution separated as described (pages
-218-219), the insoluble fibrous remainder treated with
-maltose or malt flour, and its action allowed to proceed
-to fermentation and effecting the formation of acetic
-acid. Will this acid, by means of ensilage, act upon
-the cellulose as the acid of the unripe pear acts upon its
-cellulose?</p>
-
-<p>This is another of the questions that I can only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
-suggest, not having had time and opportunity to supply
-experimental answer.</p>
-
-<p>Do fruits contain diastase?</p>
-
-<p>Two kinds of food are described by Pavy (‘Treatise
-on Food and Dietetics,’ page 227), in the preparation of
-which the conversion of starch into dextrin appears to
-be effected. As I have no acquaintance with these,
-never met with them either in Scotland or Wales, I will
-quote his description:</p>
-
-<p>‘<i>Sowans</i>, <i>seeds</i>, or <i>flummery</i>, which constitutes a very
-popular article of diet in Scotland and South Wales, is
-made from the husks of the grain (oats). The husks,
-with the starchy particles adhering to them, are separated
-from the other parts of the grain and steeped in water
-for one or two days, until the mass ferments and becomes
-sourish. It is then skimmed and the liquid boiled down
-to the consistence of gruel. In Wales this food is called
-<i>sucan</i>. <i>Budrum</i> is prepared in the same manner, except
-that the liquid is boiled down to a sufficient consistency
-to form, when cold, a firm jelly. This resembles blancmange,
-and constitutes a light, demulcent, and nutritious
-article of food, which is well suited for the weak
-stomach.’</p>
-
-<p>Here it is evident that solution takes place and a
-gummy substance is formed; this and the fermentation
-and sourish taste all indicate the action of the diastase
-of the seed converting the starch into dextrin and sugar,
-the latter passing at once into acetic fermentation.
-Having only just met with this passage, I am unable to
-supply any experimental evidence, but suggest to any
-of my readers who may be on the spot where either of
-these preparations are made, the simple experiment of
-adding a little diluted tincture of iodine to the sowans
-or budrum, preferably to the latter. If any of the starch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
-remains as starch, a deep blue tint will be immediately
-struck; if this is not the case it is <i>all</i> converted.</p>
-
-<p>I have just received a letter (while the proofs of this
-sheet are in course of correction) from a retired barrister
-in his seventy-third year, who, after a successful career
-in India, ‘retired in 1870 to enjoy the <i>otium cum dig</i>.’
-Among other interesting particulars relating to animal
-and vegetable diet, he tells me that ‘somehow I did
-not, with a purely vegetable diet, excite saliva sufficient
-for digestion, and being constitutionally a gouty subject,
-I have suffered very much from gout until comparatively
-lately (say the last eight months), when an idea came
-into my head that by the use of potash I might get rid
-of the calcareous deposit accompanying gout, and have
-been taking 30 drops of liquor potassæ in my tea with
-very good effect. But within the last ten days, thanks
-to your article in “Knowledge” of January 16, 1885, I
-have, as it were by magic, become young again. I was
-not aware that the diastase of malt had the same powers
-as the salivary secretions. When I read your article, I
-commenced the experiment on my morning food, namely,
-oatmeal-porridge, of which for several years I have
-cooked daily four ounces, of which I could never eat
-more than half without feeling distended for an hour or
-two, and then again feeling hungry and a craving for
-more food. Since I followed your directions I have
-been able to eat comfortably nearly the whole (five
-ounces with the malt). I feel no distension for the time
-nor craving afterwards; I am comfortably satisfied for
-hours; but what is more, the diastased porridge has had
-the effect of removing the tendency to costiveness, which
-was sore trouble, and it has rendered my joints supple,
-and destroyed the tendency of my finger and toe-nails
-to grow rapidly and brittle. All this seems to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>
-changed, as if by magic. I, therefore, write to you as a
-public benefactor, to thank you for your seasonable
-hints.’</p>
-
-<p>I quote this letter (with the permission of the writer,
-Mr. A. T. T. Petersen) the more willingly and confidently
-from the fact that I have lately adopted as
-a regular supper diet a porridge made of oatmeal, to
-which about one-sixth or one-eighth of malt flour is
-added. I find it in every respect advantageous, far
-better than ordinary simple oatmeal-porridge. The following
-from Pavy, p. 229, indicates further the desirability
-of assisting the salivary glands and pancreas in
-digesting this otherwise excellent food. Speaking of
-oatmeal-porridge, he says: ‘It is apt to disagree with
-some dyspeptics, having a tendency to produce acidity
-and pyrosis, and cases have been noticed among those
-who have been in the daily habit of consuming it, where
-dyspeptic symptoms have subsided upon temporarily
-abandoning its use.’</p>
-
-<p>My readers should try the following experiment. It
-supplies a striking demonstration of the potency of the
-diastase of malt.</p>
-
-<p>Make a portion of oatmeal-porridge in the usual
-manner, but unusually thick—a pudding rather than a
-porridge; then, while it is still hot (150° or thereabouts)
-in the saucepan, add some <i>dry</i> malt flour (equal to one-eighth
-to one-fourth of the oatmeal used). Stir this dry
-flour into it and a curious transformation will take place.
-The dry flour instead of thickening the mixture acts like
-the addition of water, and converts the thick pudding
-into a thin porridge. I find that this paradox greatly
-astonishes the practical cook.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</a><br />
-
-<small>THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION.</small></h2>
-
-
-<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">I have</span> repeatedly spoken of the nitrogenous and
-non-nitrogenous constituents of food, assuming that the
-nitrogenous are the more nutritious, are the plastic or
-flesh-building materials, and that the non-nitrogenous
-materials cannot build up flesh or bone or nervous
-matter, can only supply the material of fat, and by their
-combustion maintain the animal heat.</p>
-
-<p>In doing so I have been treading on loose ground—I
-may say on a scientific quicksand. When I first taught
-practical physiology to children in Edinburgh, many
-years ago, this part of the subject was much easier to
-teach than now. The simple and elegant theory of
-Liebig was then generally accepted, and appeared quite
-sound.</p>
-
-<p>According to this, every muscular effort is performed
-at the expense of muscular tissue; every mental effort,
-at the expense of cerebral tissue; and so on with all
-the forces of life. This consumption or degradation of
-tissue demands continual supplies of food for its renewal,
-and as all the working organs of the animal are
-composed of nitrogenous tissue, it is clearly necessary,
-according to this, that we should be supplied with nitrogenous
-food to renew them, seeing that the nitrogen of
-the air cannot be assimilated by animals at all.</p>
-
-<p>But besides doing mechanical and mental work, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>
-animal body is continually giving out heat, and its temperature
-must be maintained. Food is also demanded
-for this, and the non-nitrogenous food is the most readily
-combustible, especially the hydro-carbons or fats; the
-carbo-hydrates—starch, sugar, &amp;c.—also, but in lower
-degree. These, then, were described as fuel food, or
-heat-producers.</p>
-
-<p>This view is strongly confirmed by a multitude of
-familiar facts. Men, horses, and other animals cannot
-do continuous hard work without a supply of nitrogenous
-food; the harder the work the more they require, and
-the greater becomes their craving for it. On the other
-hand, when such food is eaten in large quantities by idle
-people, they become victims of inflammatory disease, or
-their health otherwise suffers, according, probably, to
-whether they assimilate or reject it.</p>
-
-<p>Man is a cosmopolitan animal, and the variations
-of his natural demand for food in different climates
-affords very direct support to Liebig’s theory. Enormous
-quantities of hydro-carbon, in the form of fat, are
-consumed by the Esquimaux and by Europeans when
-they winter in the Arctic regions. They cannot live
-there without it. In hot climates <i>some</i> fuel food is required,
-and the milder form of carbo-hydrates is chosen,
-and found to be most suitable; rice, which is mainly
-composed of starch, is an example. Sugar also. Offer
-an Esquimaux a tallow candle and a rice or tapioca
-pudding; he will reject the latter, and eat the former
-with great relish.</p>
-
-<p>A multitude of other facts might be stated, all supporting
-Liebig’s theory.</p>
-
-<p>There is one that just occurs to me as I write, which
-I will state, as it appears to have been hitherto unnoticed.
-Some organs which act in such wise that we can <i>see</i> their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>
-mode of action are visibly disintegrated and consumed
-by their own activity, and may be seen to demand the
-perpetual renewal described by Liebig. There are glands
-of cellular structure which cast off their terminal cells
-containing the fluid they secrete; do their work by
-giving up their own structural substance at their peripheral
-working surface.</p>
-
-<p>Where, then, is the quicksand? It is here. If muscular
-and mental work were done at the expense of the
-nitrogenous muscular and cerebral tissues, the quantity
-of nitrogen excreted should vary with the amount of
-work done. This was formerly stated to be the case
-without hesitation, as the following passage from Carpenter’s
-‘Manual of Physiology’ (3rd edition, 1856,
-page 256), shows: ‘Every action of the nervous and
-muscular systems involves the death and decay of a
-certain amount of the living tissue, as is indicated by
-the appearance of the products of that decay in the
-excretions.’</p>
-
-<p>More recent experiments by Fick and Wislicenus,
-Parkes, Houghton, Ranke, Voit, Flint, and others are
-said to contradict this by showing that the waste nitrogen
-varies with the quantity of nitrogenous food that is eaten,
-but not with the muscular work done. For the details of
-these experiments I must refer the reader to standard
-<i>modern</i> physiological treatises, as a full description of
-them would carry me too far away from my immediate
-subject. (Dr. Pavy’s ‘Treatise on Food’ has an introductory
-chapter on ‘The Dynamic Relations of Food,’
-in which this subject is clearly treated in sufficient detail
-for popular reading.)</p>
-
-<p>It is quite the fashion now to rely upon these
-later experiments; but for my own part, I am by no
-means satisfied with them—and for this reason, that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>
-excretions from the skin and from the lungs were not
-examined.</p>
-
-<p>It is just these which are greatly increased by exercise,
-and their normal quantity is very large, especially
-those from the skin, which are threefold, viz. the insensible
-perspiration, which is transpired by the skin as invisible
-vapour; the sweat, which is liquid, and the solid particles
-of exuded cuticle.</p>
-
-<p>Lavoisier and Seguin long ago made very laborious
-experiments upon themselves in order to determine the
-amount of the insensible perspiration. Seguin enclosed
-himself in a bag of glazed taffeta, which was tied over
-him with no other opening than a hole corresponding to
-his mouth; the edges of this hole were glued to his lips
-with a mixture of turpentine and pitch. He carefully
-weighed himself and the bag before and after his enclosure
-therein. His own loss of weight being partly from
-the lungs and partly from the skin, the amount gained
-by the bag represented the quantity of the latter; the
-difference between this and the loss of his own weight
-gave the amount exhaled from the lungs.</p>
-
-<p>He thus found that the largest quantity of <i>insensible</i>
-exhalation from the lungs and skin together amounted
-to 3½ oz. per hour, or at the rate of 5¼ lbs. per day. The
-smallest quantity was 1 lb. 14 oz., and the mean was
-3 lbs. 11 oz. Three-fourths of this was cutaneous.</p>
-
-<p>These figures only show the quantity of insensible
-perspiration during repose. Valentin found that his
-hourly loss by cutaneous exhalation while sitting
-amounted to 32·8 grammes, or rather less than 1¼ oz.
-On taking exercise, with an empty stomach, in the sun,
-the hourly loss increased to 89·3 grammes, or nearly
-three times as much. After a meal followed by violent
-exercise, with the temperature of the air at 72° F., it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>
-amounted to 132·7 grammes, or nearly 4½ times as much
-as during repose. A robust man, taking violent exercise
-in hot weather, may give off as much as 5 lbs. in an
-hour.</p>
-
-<p>The third excretion from the skin, the epithelial or
-superficial scales of the epidermis, is small in weight,
-but it is solid, and of similar composition to gelatin.
-It should be understood that this increases largely with
-exercise. The practice of sponging and ‘rubbing down’
-of athletes removes the excess; but I am not aware of
-any attempt that has been made to determine accurately
-the quantity thus removed.</p>
-
-<p>Does the skin excrete nitrogenous matter that may
-be, like urea, a product of the degradation or destruction
-of muscular tissue?</p>
-
-<p>The following passage from Lehmann’s ‘Physiological
-Chemistry’ (vol. ii. p. 389), shows that the skin throws out
-plenty of nitrogen obtained from somewhere: ‘It has
-been shown by the experiments of Milly, Jurine, Ingenhouss,
-Spallanzani, Abernethy, Barruel, and Collard di
-Martigny, that <i>gases</i>, and especially <i>carbonic acid</i> and
-<i>nitrogen</i>, are likewise exhaled with the liquid secretion of
-the sudiparious glands. According to the last-named
-experimentalist the ratio between these two gases is very
-variable; thus, in the gas developed after vegetable food
-there is a preponderance of carbonic acid, and, after
-animal food, there is an excess of nitrogen. Abernethy
-found that on an average the collective gas contained
-rather more than two-thirds of carbonic acid and rather
-less than one-third of nitrogen.’ But it appears that less
-gas is exhaled when there is much liquid perspiration.</p>
-
-<p>Lehmann’s summary of the experiments of Abernethy,
-Brunner, and Valentin (vol. ii. p. 391), gives the
-amount of hourly exudation, under ordinary circumstances,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>
-as 50·71 grammes of water, 0·25 of a gramme of
-carbon, and 0·92 of a gramme of nitrogen. This amounts
-to 21½ grammes of nitrogen per day in the <i>insensible</i>
-perspiration; three-quarters of an ounce avoirdupois,
-or as much nitrogen as is contained in one pound and a
-half of natural living muscle.</p>
-
-<p>That the liquid perspiration contains compounds of
-nitrogen, and just such compounds as would result from
-the degradation of nitrogenous tissue, is unquestionable.
-As Lehmann says (vol. ii. p. 389), ‘the sweat very
-easily decomposes, and gives rise to the secondary formation
-of ammonia.’ Simon and Berzelius found salts
-of ammonia in the sweat: that the ammonia is combined
-both with hydrochloric acid and with organic acids:
-that it probably exists as carbonate of ammonia in
-alkaline sweat.</p>
-
-<p>The existence of urea in sweat appears to be
-uncertain; some chemists assert its presence, others
-deny it. Favre and Schottin, for example, who have
-both studied the subject very carefully, are at direct
-variance. I suspect that both are right, as its presence
-or absence is variable, and appears to depend on the
-condition of the subject of the experiment.</p>
-
-<p>Favre describes a special nitrogenous acid which he
-discovered in sweat, and names it <i>hydrotic</i> or <i>sudoric acid</i>.
-Its composition corresponds, according to his analysis,
-to the formula C<sub>10</sub>H<sub>8</sub>NO<sub>13</sub>.</p>
-
-<p>I have summarised these facts, as they show clearly
-enough that conclusions based on an examination of the
-quantity of nitrogen excreted by the kidneys alone (and
-such is the sole basis of the modern theories), are of little
-or no value in determining whether or not muscular work
-is accompanied with degradation of muscular tissue.
-The well known fact that the total quantity of excretory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
-work done by the skin increases with muscular work,
-while that from the kidneys rather diminishes, indicates
-in the plainest possible manner that an examination of
-the skin secretion should be primary in connection with
-this question. To entirely neglect this in such a research
-is a scientific parallel to the histrionic feat of
-performing the tragedy of ‘Hamlet’ with the Prince of
-Denmark omitted.</p>
-
-<p>Seeing that it has been entirely neglected, I am
-justified in expressing, very plainly and positively, my
-opinion of the worthlessness of all the modern research
-upon which the alleged refutation of Liebig’s theory of
-the destruction and renewal of living tissue in the performance
-of vital work is based, and my rejection of the
-modern alternative hypothesis concerning the manner in
-which food supplies the material demanded for muscular
-and mental work.</p>
-
-<p>I may be accused of rashness and presumption in
-thus attempting to stem the overwhelming current of
-modern scientific progress. Such, however, is not the
-case. It is modern scientific <i>fashion</i>, rather than scientific
-<i>progress</i>, that I oppose. We have too much of this
-millinery spirit in the scientific world just now; too
-much eagerness to run after ‘the last thing out,’ and
-assume, with undue readiness, that the ‘latest researches’
-are, of course, the best—especially where fashionable
-physicians are concerned.</p>
-
-<p>Having summarised Liebig’s theory of the source of
-vital power, and its supposed refutation by modern experiments,
-I will now endeavour to state the alternative
-modern hypothesis, though not without difficulty, nor
-with satisfactory result, seeing that the recent theorists
-are vague and self-contradictory. All agree that vital
-power or liberated force is obtained at the expense of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>
-some kind of chemical action of a destructive or oxidising
-character, and is, therefore, theoretically analogous
-to the source of power in a steam-engine; but when they
-come to the practical question of the demand for working
-fuel or food, they abandon this analogy.</p>
-
-<p>Pavy says (‘Treatise on Food and Dietetics,’ page 6):
-‘In the liberation of actual force, a complete analogy
-may be traced between the animal system and a steam-engine.
-Both are media for the conversion of latent into
-actual force. In the animal system, combustible material
-is supplied under the form of the various kinds of food,
-and oxygen is taken in for the process of respiration.
-From the chemical energy due to the combination of
-these, force is liberated in an active state; and, besides
-manifesting itself as heat, and in other ways peculiar to
-the animal system, is capable of performing mechanical
-work.’ In another place (page 59 of same work), after
-describing Liebig’s view, Dr. Pavy says: ‘The facts which
-have been already adduced’ (those above described on the
-nitrogen eliminated by the kidneys), ‘suffice to refute this
-doctrine. Indeed, it may be considered as abundantly
-proved that food does not require to become organised
-tissue before it can be rendered available for force-production.’
-On page 81 he says: ‘While nitrogenous
-matter may be regarded as forming the essential basis
-of structures possessing active or living properties, <i>the
-non-nitrogenous principles may be looked upon as supplying
-the source of power</i>. The one may be spoken of as holding
-the position of the instrument of action, while the
-other supplies the motive power. Nitrogenous alimentary
-matter may, it is true, by oxidation contribute to
-the generation of the moving force, but, as has been explained,
-in fulfilling this office there is evidence before us
-to show that it is split up into two distinct portions, one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>
-containing <i>the nitrogen, which is eliminated as useless, and
-a residuary non-nitrogenous portion which is retained and
-utilised in force-production</i>.’</p>
-
-<p>The italics are mine, for reasons presently to be explained.
-Pavy’s work contains repetitions and further
-illustrations of this attribution of the origin of force to
-the non-nitrogenous elements of food.</p>
-
-<p>Then we have a statement of the experiments of
-Joule on the mechanical equivalent of heat, connected
-with experiments of Frankland with the apparatus that
-is used for determining the calorific value of coal, &amp;c.—viz.
-a little tubular furnace charged with a mixture of
-the combustible to be tested, and chlorate of potash.
-This being placed in a tube, open below, and thrust
-under water, is fired, and gives out all its heat to the
-surrounding liquid, the rise of temperature of which
-measures the calorific value of the substance (see <a href="#Fig_7">fig. 7</a>,
-page 21, ‘Simple Treatise on Heat’).</p>
-
-<p>From this result is calculated the mechanical work
-obtainable from a given quantity of different food materials.
-That from a gramme is given as follows:</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="work from food">
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Beef fat</td>
-<td align="right">27,778</td>
-<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="btrb1">&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="left" rowspan="4">—Units of work, or number of pounds lifted one foot.</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Starch (arrowroot)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
-<td align="right">11,983</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Lump sugar</td>
-<td align="right">10,254</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td align="left">Grape sugar</td>
-<td align="right">10,038</td>
-</tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<p>In Dr. Edward Smith’s treatise on ‘Food,’ the foot-pound
-equivalent of each kind of food is specifically stated
-in such a manner as to lead the student to conclude
-that this represents its actual working efficiency <i>as food</i>.
-Other modern writers represent it in like manner.</p>
-
-<p>Here, then, comes the bearing of these theories on my
-subject. A practical dietary or <i>menu</i> is demanded, say,
-for navvies or for athletes in full work; another for
-sedentary people doing little work of any kind.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>According to the new theory, the best possible food
-for the first class is fat, butter being superior to lean
-beef in the proportion of 14,421 to 2,829 (Smith), and
-beef fat having nearly eight times the value of lean
-beef. Ten grains of rice give 7,454 foot-pounds of working-power,
-while the same quantity of lean beef gives
-only 2,829; according to which 1 lb. of rice should supply
-as much support to hard workers as 2½ lbs. of beefsteak.
-None of the modern theorists dare to be consistent when
-dealing with such direct practical applications.</p>
-
-<p>I might quote a multitude of other palpable inconsistencies
-of the theory, which is so slippery that it
-cannot be firmly grasped. Thus, Dr. Pavy (page 403),
-immediately after describing bacon fat as ‘the most efficient
-kind of force-producing material,’ and stating that
-‘the <i>non-nitrogenous</i> alimentary principles appear to
-possess a higher dietetic value than the <i>nitrogenous</i>,’ tells
-us that ‘the performance of work may be looked upon
-as necessitating a <i>proportionate supply</i> of <i>nitrogenous</i>
-alimentary matter,’ and his reason for this admission
-being that such nitrogenous material is required for the
-nutrition of the muscles themselves.</p>
-
-<p>A pretty tissue of inconsistencies is thus supplied!
-Non-nitrogenous food is the best force-producer—it corresponds
-to the fuel of the steam-engine; the nitrogenous
-is necessary only to repair the machine. Nevertheless,
-when force production is specially demanded, the food
-required is not the force-producer, but the special builder
-of muscles, the which muscles, according to theory, are
-<i>not</i> used up and renewed in doing the work.</p>
-
-<p>It must be remembered that the whole of this modern
-theoretical fabric is built upon the experiments which
-are supposed to show that there is no more elimination
-of nitrogenous matter during hard work than during<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span>
-rest. Yet we are told that ‘the performance of work
-may be looked upon as necessitating a proportionate
-supply of nitrogenous alimentary matter,’ and that such
-material ‘is split up into two distinct portions, one containing
-the nitrogen, which is eliminated as useless.’
-This thesis is proved by experiments showing (as
-asserted) that such elimination is not so proportioned.</p>
-
-<p>In short, the modern theory presents us with the
-following pretty paradox. The consumption of nitrogenous
-food is proportionate to work done. The elimination
-of nitrogen is <i>not</i> proportionate to work done.
-The elimination of nitrogen <i>is</i> proportionate to the
-consumption of nitrogenous food.</p>
-
-<p>I have tried hard to obtain a rational physiological
-view of the modern theory. When its advocates compare
-our food to the fuel of an engine, and maintain that its
-combustion <i>directly</i> supplies the moving power, what do
-they mean?</p>
-
-<p>They cannot suppose that the food is thus oxidised
-as food, yet such is implied. The work cannot be done
-in the stomach, nor in the intestinal canal, nor in the
-mesenteric glands, nor in their outlet, the thoracic duct.
-After leaving this, the food becomes organised living
-material, the blood being such. The question, therefore,
-as between the new theory and that of Liebig, must be
-whether work is effected by <i>the combustion of the blood
-itself</i> or by the degradation of the working tissues, which
-are fed and renewed by the blood. Although this is so
-obviously the only rational physiological question, I
-have not found it thus stated.</p>
-
-<p>Such being the case, the supposed analogy to the
-steam-engine breaks down altogether; the food is
-certainly assimilated, is converted into the living material
-of the animal itself before it does any work, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>
-therefore it must be the wear and tear of the machine
-itself which supplies the working power, and not that of
-the food as mere fuel material shovelled directly into the
-animal furnace.</p>
-
-<p>I thus agree with Playfair, who says that the modern
-theory involves a ‘false analogy of the animal body
-to a steam-engine,’ and that ‘incessant transformation
-of the acting parts of the animal machine forms the
-condition for its action, while in the case of the steam-engine
-it is the transformation of fuel external to the
-machine which causes it to move.’ Pavy says that ‘Dr.
-Playfair, in these utterances, must be regarded as writing
-behind the time.’ He may be behind as regards the
-<i>fashion</i>, but I think he is in advance as regards the
-<i>truth</i>.</p>
-
-<p>My readers, therefore, need not be ashamed of clinging
-to the old-fashioned belief that their own bodies
-are alive throughout, and perform all the operations of
-working, feeling, thinking, &amp;c., by virtue of their own
-inherent self-contained vitality, and that in doing this
-they consume their own substance, which has to be perpetually
-replaced by new material, its quality depending
-upon the manner of working and the matter and manner
-of replacement.</p>
-
-<p>The course of our own evolution thus depends upon
-ourselves; we may, according to our own daily conduct,
-be building up a better body and a better mind, or one
-that shall be worse than the fair promise of the original
-germ. Therefore the philosophy of the preparation of
-the material of which the body and brain are built up
-and renewed must be worthy of careful study. This
-philosophy is ‘<span class="smcap">The Chemistry of Cookery</span>.’</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="chapter"></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX">INDEX.</a></h2>
-
-
-<div class="unindent">
-<span class="smcap">Acids</span>, mineral and vegetable, <a href="#Page_224">224</a><br />
-<br />
-Aërated bread, <a href="#Page_206">206</a><br />
-<br />
-Albumen, <a href="#Page_19">19</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">coagulation of, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">of flesh, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">loss of in boiling fish and meat, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Allotropism, <a href="#Page_88">88</a><br />
-<br />
-Alum in bread, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br />
-<br />
-Animal diastase, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br />
-<br />
-Apple fritters, <a href="#Page_101">101</a><br />
-<br />
-Argol, <a href="#Page_273">273</a><br />
-<br />
-Arrowroot, <a href="#Page_179">179</a><br />
-<br />
-Arsenic eating, <a href="#Page_256">256</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Bain-marie</span>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br />
-<br />
-Baked meat, prejudice against, <a href="#Page_64">64</a><br />
-<br />
-Baking <i>versus</i> roasting of meat, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br />
-<br />
-Barley sugar, <a href="#Page_88">88</a><br />
-<br />
-Basting, <a href="#Page_57">57</a><br />
-<br />
-Bavarian beggars and Count Rumford, <a href="#Page_229">229</a><br />
-<br />
-Birds’-nests, edible, <a href="#Page_35">35</a><br />
-<br />
-Blood-fibrin, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br />
-<br />
-‘Boiled meat’ is not boiled, <a href="#Page_14">14</a><br />
-<br />
-Boiling of fat, <a href="#Page_84">84</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of water, <a href="#Page_8">8</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Bone-soup Commission of French Academy, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br />
-<br />
-Borized meat, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">milk, <a href="#Page_171">171</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Bosch <i>v.</i> butter, <a href="#Page_167">167</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>v.</i> butterine, <a href="#Page_144">144</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Boussingault’s experiments on bread, <a href="#Page_207">207</a><br />
-<br />
-Bread, <a href="#Page_197">197</a><br />
-<br />
-British gum, <a href="#Page_182">182</a><br />
-<br />
-Browning of roasted meat, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rationale of, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Budrum, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br />
-<br />
-Butter, <a href="#Page_163">163</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and infection, <a href="#Page_166">166</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Calcareous water</span>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br />
-<br />
-Cancer and flesh eating, <a href="#Page_301">301</a><br />
-<br />
-Caramel, <a href="#Page_87">87-89</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a disinfectant, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Carnivorous, a sheep, <a href="#Page_301">301</a><br />
-<br />
-Casein, <a href="#Page_127">127</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">changes of, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">vegetable, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Cayenne pepper, <a href="#Page_260">260</a><br />
-<br />
-Cellular tissue, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a><br />
-<br />
-Cheese, cookery of, <a href="#Page_136">136</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">digestibility of, <a href="#Page_135">135</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in soup, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nutritive value of, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">phosphates in, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">porridge, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pudding, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">solubility of, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Chemical analysis and nutritive value of food, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br />
-<br />
-Chinese and cooked water, <a href="#Page_13">13</a><br />
-<br />
-Chitin, <a href="#Page_33">33</a><br />
-<br />
-Chondrin, <a href="#Page_33">33</a><br />
-<br />
-Cocoa, <a href="#Page_261">261</a><br />
-<br />
-‘Coffee as in France,’ 96<br />
-<br />
-Colloids and crystalloids, <a href="#Page_115">115</a><br />
-<br />
-Composition of albumen, gelatin, and fibrin, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">kreatine and kreatinine, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Condensed milk, <a href="#Page_129">129</a><br />
-<br />
-Condiments, <a href="#Page_259">259</a><br />
-<br />
-Convection in roasting, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br />
-<br />
-Cooked water, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br />
-<br />
-Cream, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br />
-<br />
-Crust of bread, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a><br />
-<br />
-Curd of milk, <a href="#Page_127">127</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Dextrin</span>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in bread, <a href="#Page_200">200</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Diastase, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a><br />
-<br />
-Diastased porridge, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a><br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span><br />
-Difference between vegetable and animal food, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a><br />
-<br />
-Diffusion of liquids, <a href="#Page_112">112</a><br />
-<br />
-Digestion of starch, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br />
-<br />
-Dinner of a French or Swiss peasant, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br />
-<br />
-Diosmosis, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br />
-<br />
-Disinfection of water by boiling, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">by toast, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Dissociation of flavours, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br />
-<br />
-Dolby’s extractor, <a href="#Page_120">120</a><br />
-<br />
-Domestic chops and steaks, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br />
-<br />
-Dough, <a href="#Page_197">197</a><br />
-<br />
-Dripping, <a href="#Page_159">159</a><br />
-<br />
-Drunkenness and cookery, <a href="#Page_61">61</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Economical frying</span>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a><br />
-<br />
-Effects of diastased porridge, <a href="#Page_311">311</a><br />
-<br />
-Eggs, cookery of, <a href="#Page_22">22</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nutritive value of, <a href="#Page_19">19</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of feathered and featherless young birds, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Endosmosis and exosmosis, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br />
-<br />
-English stewing, <a href="#Page_124">124</a><br />
-<br />
-Ensilage of human food, <a href="#Page_214">214</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">by means of diastase, <a href="#Page_308">308</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Excretion of nitrogen from the skin, <a href="#Page_316">316</a><br />
-<br />
-Expansion of well-grilled meat, <a href="#Page_53">53</a><br />
-<br />
-Experiment with Rumford’s roaster, <a href="#Page_74">74</a><br />
-<br />
-Explosion of water, <a href="#Page_86">86</a><br />
-<br />
-Extract of meat, <a href="#Page_117">117</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Fat</span>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">action of heat on, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">bath for joints, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">for frying, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Fermentation of bread, <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br />
-<br />
-Ferments, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br />
-<br />
-Fibrin, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br />
-<br />
-Fish, boiling of, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cooked in paper, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">roasting, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">with cheese, <a href="#Page_153">153</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Flames, different kinds of, and grilling, <a href="#Page_51">51</a><br />
-<br />
-Flavouring power of the juices of meat, <a href="#Page_26">26</a><br />
-<br />
-Flesh feeding, a temporary barbarism, <a href="#Page_7">7</a><br />
-<br />
-Flummery, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br />
-<br />
-Fondu, <a href="#Page_136">136</a><br />
-<br />
-Forces of nature co-operating with man, <a href="#Page_2">2</a><br />
-<br />
-Frozen meat, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a><br />
-<br />
-Fruit jelly, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br />
-<br />
-Frying, <a href="#Page_84">84</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">kettle, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">theory of, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Fuel wasted in boiling, <a href="#Page_15">15</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Gastric juice</span>, modification of, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br />
-<br />
-Gelatin, fibrin, and the juices of meat, <a href="#Page_32">32</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">hydration of, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">solubility of, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Gluten, <a href="#Page_194">194</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fibrin and gluten casein, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Glycerine, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br />
-<br />
-Green-pea clear soup, <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br />
-<br />
-Grilling of chops and steaks, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br />
-<br />
-Gum arabic, <a href="#Page_183">183</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Hasty pudding and cheese</span>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a><br />
-<br />
-Hot rolls from stale bread, <a href="#Page_208">208</a><br />
-<br />
-Hydration of gelatin, <a href="#Page_41">41</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of starch, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Incrustation of boilers</span>, kettles, &amp;c., <a href="#Page_11">11</a><br />
-<br />
-Isinglass, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a><br />
-<br />
-Italian cookery, <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of cheese, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Johnston on tea and coffee</span>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a><br />
-<br />
-Juices of meat, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Kitchen a chemical laboratory</span>, the, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br />
-<br />
-Kitchener-ovens and roasters, <a href="#Page_7">7</a><br />
-<br />
-Kreatine and kreatinine, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Lard</span>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dissociation of, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Leaven, <a href="#Page_206">206</a><br />
-<br />
-Leg of mutton, how to boil, <a href="#Page_26">26</a><br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span><br />
-Legumin, <a href="#Page_212">212</a><br />
-<br />
-Lehmann on coffee, <a href="#Page_251">251</a><br />
-<br />
-‘Liaison au roux,’ 90<br />
-<br />
-Liebig on gelatin, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on tea and coffee, <a href="#Page_251">251</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Liebig’s extract of meat, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a><br />
-<br />
-Lignin, <a href="#Page_174">174</a><br />
-<br />
-Lime in bread, <a href="#Page_205">205</a><br />
-<br />
-Lobster suppers, <a href="#Page_33">33</a><br />
-<br />
-Locusts as food, <a href="#Page_34">34</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Maceration</span>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a><br />
-<br />
-Magnesia in bread, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br />
-<br />
-Malt, action on various foods, <a href="#Page_305">305</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">directions for using, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Malted food, <a href="#Page_303">303</a><br />
-<br />
-Man, the cooking animal, <a href="#Page_295">295</a><br />
-<br />
-Man’s work on earth, <a href="#Page_1">1</a><br />
-<br />
-Marie Antoinette’s pie-crust, <a href="#Page_176">176</a><br />
-<br />
-Milk, a carrier of infection, <a href="#Page_164">164</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">composition of, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cooking of, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dietetic value of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">for herbivora, carnivora, and man, <a href="#Page_296">296</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">supply to London, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Muscle fibrin, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">New and stale bread</span>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a><br />
-<br />
-Nitrogenous principles of plants and animals compared, <a href="#Page_195">195</a><br />
-<br />
-Norwegian cooking apparatus, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a><br />
-<br />
-Nutrition, fashionable theory of, <a href="#Page_315">315</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">inconsistencies of fashionable theory of, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Liebig’s theory of, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Playfair on the physiology of, <a href="#Page_324">324</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the physiology of, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Nutritive value of food as affected by cookery, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of gelatin, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Œnanthic ether</span>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a><br />
-<br />
-Oils for frying, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">volatile and fixed, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Old hens, how to roast, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br />
-<br />
-Oleomargarine, <a href="#Page_146">146</a><br />
-<br />
-Oven, construction of, <a href="#Page_80">80</a><br />
-<br />
-Oysters and invalids, <a href="#Page_180">180</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Parmesan cheese</span>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br />
-<br />
-Pasteuring of wine, <a href="#Page_269">269</a><br />
-<br />
-Peasants’ food in Italy and France, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br />
-<br />
-Pease-pudding, <a href="#Page_214">214-218</a><br />
-<br />
-Pectin, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br />
-<br />
-Penny dinners, <a href="#Page_244">244</a><br />
-<br />
-Phosphates in milk and cheese, <a href="#Page_133">133</a><br />
-<br />
-Phosphorus in bones and brain, <a href="#Page_134">134</a><br />
-<br />
-Popped corn, <a href="#Page_210">210</a><br />
-<br />
-Porridge <i>v.</i> flesh, <a href="#Page_299">299</a><br />
-<br />
-Potage and stewed meat, <a href="#Page_116">116</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">value of, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Potash bitartrate, solubility of, <a href="#Page_272">272</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">food, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in cheese cookery, <a href="#Page_141">141</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in potatoes, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">scurvy, gout, &amp;c., <a href="#Page_142">142</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Potatoes in bread, <a href="#Page_202">202</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a curse of Ireland, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and cheese porridge, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and scurvy, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cookery of, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nutritive value of, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Purification of fat, <a href="#Page_101">101</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Radiation and convection in roasting</span>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in grilling, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Rahat Lakoum, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br />
-<br />
-Rationale of roasting, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br />
-<br />
-Reaction from tea, <a href="#Page_257">257</a><br />
-<br />
-Rennet, <a href="#Page_129">129</a><br />
-<br />
-Rice and cheese, <a href="#Page_153">153</a><br />
-<br />
-‘Risotto à la Milanese,’ 150<br />
-<br />
-Roasting an ox, <a href="#Page_56">56</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and grilling, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">before open fire, evils of, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">large joints, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">small joints, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Rumford, Count of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on boiling meat, <a href="#Page_16">16</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on military rations, <a href="#Page_241">241</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the pleasure of eating, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>Rumford’s cookery, <a href="#Page_227">227</a><br />
-<br />
-Rumford’s experiment on low temperature roasting, <a href="#Page_29">29</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">roaster, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">roasting oven, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">soup, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">soup compared with flesh food, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Sago</span>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br />
-<br />
-Saliva and diastase, <a href="#Page_304">304</a><br />
-<br />
-Salivary diastase, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br />
-<br />
-Salmon cooking in Norway, <a href="#Page_28">28</a><br />
-<br />
-Samp, <a href="#Page_240">240</a><br />
-<br />
-Sauer-kraut, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br />
-<br />
-Sawdust as food, <a href="#Page_175">175</a><br />
-<br />
-Science in the kitchen, <a href="#Page_4">4</a><br />
-<br />
-Seeds as food, <a href="#Page_194">194</a><br />
-<br />
-Sheep, a carnivorous and cannibal, <a href="#Page_301">301</a><br />
-<br />
-Sherbet, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br />
-<br />
-Shrimps, fried, <a href="#Page_34">34</a><br />
-<br />
-Simmering and boiling, <a href="#Page_14">14</a><br />
-<br />
-Small joints and their cookery, <a href="#Page_53">53</a><br />
-<br />
-Smith, Dr., on tea, <a href="#Page_254">254</a><br />
-<br />
-Snail soup, <a href="#Page_35">35</a><br />
-<br />
-Soluble and insoluble casein, <a href="#Page_130">130</a><br />
-<br />
-Solution of vegetable casein, <a href="#Page_217">217</a><br />
-<br />
-South Kensington food exhibits, <a href="#Page_211">211</a><br />
-<br />
-Sowans, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br />
-<br />
-Specific sapidity of food, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br />
-<br />
-Spinning of sugar, <a href="#Page_89">89</a><br />
-<br />
-Starch, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a><br />
-<br />
-Stearic acid, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br />
-<br />
-Stewing, <a href="#Page_111">111</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and albumen, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Stirabout and cheese, <a href="#Page_153">153</a><br />
-<br />
-Sulphate of copper in bread, <a href="#Page_205">205</a><br />
-<br />
-Super-heaters, cost of, <a href="#Page_75">75</a><br />
-<br />
-Syntonin, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Tapioca</span>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a><br />
-<br />
-Tea and coffee, Rumford’s substitute for, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">physiological action of, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Technical and technological education, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br />
-<br />
-Temperature for stewing, <a href="#Page_118">118</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of vegetable cookery, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Tenderness, true and false, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br />
-<br />
-Testing the temperature of fat bath, <a href="#Page_100">100</a><br />
-<br />
-Thermometers for the kitchen, <a href="#Page_79">79</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">for fat bath, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Thomson, Sir Henry, on roasting of fish, <a href="#Page_58">58</a><br />
-<br />
-Tinned meat, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br />
-<br />
-Toast and water, <a href="#Page_92">92</a><br />
-<br />
-Tripe and cheese, <a href="#Page_154">154</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Unfermented bread</span>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Vapours of roasting meat</span>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br />
-<br />
-Vegetable casein, <a href="#Page_211">211</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">diet, economy of, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fibrin, casein and gluten, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">food and mixed diet compared, <a href="#Page_297">297</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">juices, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">-marrow <i>au gratin</i>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tissue, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></span><br />
-<br />
-Vegetables, the cookery of, <a href="#Page_173">173</a><br />
-<br />
-Vegetarian question, the, <a href="#Page_294">294</a><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Warren’s cooking-pot</span>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a><br />
-<br />
-Waste of fuel in boiling, <a href="#Page_15">15</a><br />
-<br />
-Water-bath cookery, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><br />
-<br />
-Water in fish, <a href="#Page_86">86</a><br />
-<br />
-Whole-meal bread, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a><br />
-<br />
-Wine, artificial bouquet of, <a href="#Page_291">291</a><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">artificial colour of, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">bouquet of, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cookery of, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cost of, <a href="#Page_265">265-292</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">drying of, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">natural colour of, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pasteuring of, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">plastering of, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sickness of, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sulphuric acid in, <a href="#Page_276">276</a></span><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">Yolk of egg, its coagulation</span>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a><br />
-</div>
-
-<div class="copyright"><br /><br />
-<i>Spottiswoode &amp; Co. Printers, New-street Square, London.</i><br />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1">[1]</a> In applying heat to glass vessels, thickness is a source of weakness
-or liability to fracture, on account of the unequal expansion of the two
-sides, due to inequality of temperature, which, of course, increases with
-the thickness of the glass. Besides this, the thickness increases the
-leverage of the breaking strain.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2">[2]</a> Tarchnoff has recently discovered the curious fact that the white of
-the eggs of birds that are hatched without feathers remains transparent
-when coagulated, while the eggs which produce chickens and other birds
-already fledged become opaque when coagulated. This is familiarly illustrated
-by the difference between plovers’ eggs and hens’ eggs when cooked.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3">[3]</a> ‘Egg-cement,’ made by thickening white of egg with finely-powdered
-quicklime, has long been used for mending alabaster, marble, &amp;c. For
-joining fragments of fossils and mineralogical specimens, it will be found
-very useful. White of egg alone may be used, if carefully heated
-afterwards.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4">[4]</a> <i>Physiological Chemistry</i>, vol. ii. p. 356.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5">[5]</a> It was given to me in 1868. I have just found that some of it remains
-unused (December 1884), and that it still retains its characteristic
-flavour.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6">[6]</a> The following, from Francatelli’s <i>Modern Cook</i>, is amusing, if not
-instructive: ‘Take two dozen garden snails, add to these the hind
-quarters only of two dozen stream frogs, previously skinned; bruise them
-together in a mortar, after which put them into a stewpan with a couple of
-turnips chopped small, a little salt, a quarter of an ounce of hay-saffron,
-and three pints of spring water. Stir these on the fire until the broth begins
-to boil, then skim it well and set it by the side of the fire to simmer
-for half an hour; after which it should be strained, by pressure through a
-tammy cloth, into a basin for use. This broth, from its soothing qualities,
-often counteracts, successfully, the straining effects of a severe cough, and
-alleviates, more than any other culinary preparation, the sufferings of the
-consumptive.’</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7">[7]</a> Carpenter’s <i>Manual of Physiology</i>, 3rd edition, 1846, p. 267.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8">[8]</a> Londe, <i>Nouveaux Éléments d’Hygiène</i>, 2nd edition, vol. ii. p. 73.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9">[9]</a> The necessity for this is not so great as may appear theoretically.
-I have tried the experiment of having veal cutlets fried in a bath previously
-used for fish, and was not able to detect any fishy flavour as I expected I
-should. This was the case even when I knew that the fish fat had been
-used, and I was consequently far more critical than under ordinary circumstances.
-Even apple-fritters may be cooked in fat that has been used for
-fish. I have tried this since the above was written and am surprised at
-the result.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10">[10]</a> I have ventured to ascribe this lubricating function to the albumen
-which envelopes the fibres, though doubtful whether it is quite orthodox to
-do so. Its identity in composition with the synovial liquor of the joints,
-and the necessity for such lubricant, justify this supposition. It may act
-as a nutrient fluid at the same time.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11">[11]</a> I am greatly disgusted with the cookery-books, especially the pretentious
-volume of Francatelli’s, on being unable to find any recipe for
-this delicious Italian dish, and a similar absence of a dozen or two of
-equally common and excellent preparations familiar to all who have dined
-at the Lepre (Rome), or other good Italian restaurants.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12">[12]</a> Forty or fifty years ago these cheese <i>fondus</i> were one of the usual
-courses at many-course banquets, but now they are rarely found in the
-<i>menu</i> of such dinners. There is good reason for this. They are far too
-nutritious to be eaten with a dozen other things. Their proper use is to
-substitute the joint in an ordinary respectable meal of meat and pudding.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13">[13]</a> Before the Adulteration Act was passed, mustard flour was usually
-mixed with well-dried wheaten flour, whereby the redundant oil was
-absorbed, and the mixture was a dry powder. Now it is different, being
-pure powdered mustard seed, and usually rather damp. It not only lies
-closer, but is much stronger. Therefore, in following any recipe of old
-cookery-books, only about half the stated quantity should be used.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14">[14]</a> The reader who desires further information on this and kindred
-subjects will find it clearly and soundly treated (without any of the
-noxious pedantry that too commonly prevails in such treatises) in Dr.
-Andrew Combe’s <i>Physiology of Digestion</i>, which, although written by a
-dying man nearly half a century ago, still remains, like his <i>Principles of
-Physiology</i>, the best popular work on the subject. Subsequent editions
-have been edited and brought up to date by his nephew, Sir James Coxe.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15">[15]</a> In fairness to retailers I should state that the price of arrowroot just
-now is unusually low; the ordinary range is from twopence to two shillings.
-People who are afraid of having their arrowroot adulterated should
-ask themselves what can be used to cheapen the St. Vincent at the above-quoted
-prices, which are those of the unquestionably genuine article.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16">[16]</a> Shortly after the close of the Great Exhibition of 1851, when the
-South Kensington Museum was only in embryo, I had occasion to call on
-Dr. Lyon Playfair at the ‘boilers,’ and there found the Prince hard at
-work giving instructions for the arrangement and labelling of these analysed
-food products and the similarly displayed materials of industry, such as
-whalebone, ivory, &amp;c. I then, by inquiry, learned how much time and
-labour he was devoting, not only to the general business of the collection,
-but also to its minor details.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17">[17]</a> Such lixivium is essentially a dilute solution of carbonate of potash
-in very crude form, not conveniently obtained by burners of pit coal. I
-tried the experiment of soaking some ordinary Indian corn in a solution
-of carbonate of potash, exceeding the ten or twelve hours specified by
-Count Rumford. The external coat was not removed even after two days’
-soaking, but the corns were much swollen and softened. I suspect that
-this difference is due to the condition of the corn which is imported here.
-It is fully ripened, dried, and hardened, while that used by the Indians
-was probably fresh gathered, barely ripe, and much softer.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18">[18]</a> Ordinary tea contains about 2 per cent. of this. It may easily be
-obtained by making a strong infusion and <i>slowly</i> evaporating it to dryness,
-then placing this dried extract on a watch-glass or evaporating-dish, covering
-it with an inverted wineglass, tumbler, or conical cap of paper. A
-white fume rises and condenses on the cool cover in the form of minute
-colourless crystals. The tea itself may be used in the same manner as the
-dried extract, but the quantity of crystals will be less.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19">[19]</a> In repeating these experiments I find that the best form of silk is that
-which the Coventry dyers technically call ‘boiled silk,’ <i>i.e.</i> raw silk boiled
-in potash to remove its resinous varnish. In this state the aniline dyes
-attach themselves to the fibre very readily and firmly.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20">[20]</a> The following is from <i>Knowledge</i> of August 15, 1884. It is editorial,
-not mine, though I have heard these ‘Spirit Flavours’ spoken of by
-experts as ordinary merchandise. The Hungarian wine oil is one of them:
-‘I have just obtained what is expressively known as “a wrinkle” from
-a wholesale price-list of a distiller which has fallen (no matter how) into
-my hands. That it was never intended to be seen by any mortal eyes
-outside of “the trade” goes without saying. In this highly instructive
-document I find, under the head of “Spirit Flavours,” “the attention of
-consumers in Australia and India” (we needn’t say anything about England)
-“is particularly called to these very useful and excellent flavours.
-One pound of either of these essences to fifty gallons of plain spirit” (let
-us suppose potato spirit) “will make immediately a fine brandy or old
-tom, &amp;c., without the use of a still.—See <i>Lancet</i> report.” This is followed
-by a list of prices of these “flavours,” and then follows a similar one of
-“Wine Aromas.” A cheerful look-out all this presents, upon my word!
-The confiding traveller calls at his inn for some old brandy, and they make
-it in the bar while he is waiting. He orders a pint of claret or port, and
-straightway he is served with some that has been two and a half minutes
-in bottle! After the perusal of this price-list, I have come to the conclusion
-that in the case of no articles of consumption whatever is the motto
-<i>Caveat emptor</i> more needful to be attended to than in that of (so called)
-wines and spirits.’</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21">[21]</a> Since the above was written I have met with some alarming revelations
-concerning the increasing prevalence of cancer, which, if confirmed,
-will force me to withdraw this conclusion. This horrible disease has increased
-in England with increase of prosperity—with increase of luxury in
-feeding—which in this country means more flesh food. In the ten years
-from 1850 to 1860, the deaths from cancer had increased by 2,000; from
-1860 to 1870 the increase was 2,400; from 1870 to 1880 it reached 3,200,
-above the preceding ten years. The proportion of deaths is far higher
-among the well-to-do classes than among the poorer classes. It seems to
-be the one disease that increases with improved general sanitary conditions.
-The evidence is not yet complete, but as far as it goes it points most
-ominously to a direct connection between cancer and excessive flesh feeding
-among people of sedentary habits. The most abundant victims appear to
-be women who eat much meat and take but little out-of-door exercise.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22">[22]</a> I have lately learned that a patent was secured some years ago for
-‘malt bread,’ and that such bread is obtainable from bakers who make it
-under a license from the patentee. The ‘revised formula’ for 1884, which
-I have just obtained, says: ‘Take of wheat meal 6 lbs., wheat flour
-6 lbs., malt flour 6 oz., German yeast 2 oz., salt 2 oz., water sufficient.
-Make into dough (without first melting the malt), prove well, and bake in
-tins.’</p></div></div>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;">
-<img src="images/cover-plain.jpg" width="395" height="600" alt="original without words" />
-<div class="caption">Original cover</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;">
-<img src="images/cover-back.jpg" width="398" height="600" alt="back cover" />
-</div>
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<div class="tnote"><div class="center">
-<b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></div>
-
-<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Larger vulgar fractions
-had been printed with a hyphen instead of a slash. This was changed
-to a slash for conformity. (1-30th is now <small><sup>1</sup>/<sub>30</sub></small>th)</p>
-
-<p>Page 54, “is” changed to “it” (exposed, it is evident)</p>
-
-<p>Page 81, “judgment” changed to “judgement” (the judgement
-of which)</p>
-
-<p>Page 108, while it seems that this sentence is missing an object:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>When common sense and true sentiment supplant
-mere unreasoning prejudice, vegetable oils and vegetable
-fats will largely supplant those of animal origin
-in every element of our dietary.</p></div>
-
-<p>It has been quoted in just that manner across numerous publications.</p>
-
-<p>Page 109, “facts” changed to “fats” (the chemistry of fats)</p>
-
-<p>Page 328, the text refers to the now more usually spelled “sauerkraut”
-as “sour-kraut” in the text and “Sauer-kraut” in the index. These
-usages were retained as printed.</p>
-
-<p>Page 328, “fath” changed to “fat” (for fat bath)</p>
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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