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diff --git a/75832-0.txt b/75832-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a604917 --- /dev/null +++ b/75832-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2294 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75832 *** + + + + + + FIRST LESSONS + + IN THE + + PRINCIPLES OF COOKING. + + +[Illustration: [Logo]] + + + + + FIRST LESSONS + IN THE PRINCIPLES + OF + COOKING. + IN THREE PARTS. + + BY + LADY BARKER, + + _Author of “Stories About,” “A Christmas Cake,” &c. &c._ + + + =London:= + MACMILLAN AND CO. + 1886. + + + + + RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, + BREAD STREET HILL, LONDON, E.C. + _And at Bungay, Suffolk._ + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + PART I. + PAGE + INTRODUCTORY 3 + LESSON I. + THE CHEMICAL COMPOSITION OF OUR FOOD 10 + LESSON II. + BREAD AND BEEF 18 + LESSON III. + FISH 25 + LESSON IV. + VEGETABLES 29 + + PART II. + LESSON V. + THE PREPARATIONS OF FLOUR USED AS FOOD 38 + LESSON VI. + POTATOES AND OTHER VEGETABLES 44 + LESSON VII. + MODES OF PREPARING BROTH OR SOUP FROM BEEF 51 + LESSON VIII. + FUEL AND FIRE 58 + + PART III. + LESSON IX. + BOILING AND STEWING 73 + LESSON X. + BAKING, ROASTING, AND FRYING 79 + LESSON XI. + BACON 86 + LESSON XII. + THE GIST OF THE WHOLE MATTER 88 + + + + + PART I. + _THE CHEMICAL COMPOSITION, AND THE EFFECT UPON THE HUMAN BODY OF THE + VARIOUS SUBSTANCES COMMONLY EMPLOYED AS FOOD._ + + + + + FIRST LESSONS + + IN THE + + PRINCIPLES OF COOKING + + + + + PART I. + INTRODUCTORY. + + +The day has come in English social history when it is absolutely the +bounden duty of every person at the head of a household—whether that +household be large or small, rich or poor—to see that no waste is +permitted in the preparation of food for the use of the family under his +or her care. I am quite aware that such waste cannot be cured by +theories, and that nothing except a practical acquaintance with the +details of household management, supplemented by a conviction of the +necessity of economy, can be expected to remedy the evil. At the same +time, it is possible that ignorance of the fundamental principles of the +chemical composition and of the relative nutritive value of the various +sorts of food within our reach, added to the widespread ignorance of the +most simple and wholesome modes of preparing such food, may be at the +root of much of that waste. + +Many excellent works have been written on household management and +expenditure on both a large and a small scale, but I am not aware of any +book so small as this, which exactly supplies the need I speak of, or +which, laying other details aside, deals only with the subject of the +preparation of food, and yet is not exactly a Cookery Book. + +I shall attempt in this part to give in a condensed form the reasons why +one sort of food is better than another, more nutritious, and therefore +cheaper, and also why certain methods of preparing that food will cause +it to be more easily digested, and render it more wholesome. It must be +stated in this, the very beginning, that these “reasons why” are not the +result of any crude theories of my own, but are drawn from a careful +study of works upon the subject by practical chemists. Whenever the +question is a vexed one, or learned doctors have agreed to differ upon +it, I omit it altogether, confining myself entirely to the discussion of +subjects upon which there is no doubt, and stating the results of years +of patient study and incessant experiments as briefly and simply as I +possibly can. Although it is perhaps somewhat alarming to come across +scientific expressions in so unpretending a little book as this, still I +must entreat my readers not to be scared away by words which are +unfamiliar to them; and I may truthfully add my own experience to bear +out the common assertion that the best and highest method of learning +any subject will always prove the easiest in the long run. + +Instead of helplessly wringing our hands and crying out about the high +price of fuel and food, let us accept the present state of things as the +inevitable and natural result of past years of extravagance and +carelessness on our own part. The sooner we make up our minds that what +we regretfully speak of as the “good old times” with their good old +prices will never come again, the sooner we shall cease to look fondly +back on a cheaper past, and brace ourselves up helpfully and bravely to +face the increased cost of the necessaries of life. It is much more +sensible to do this, instead of going on in our old ignorant way, +buoying ourselves up with hopes of a shadowy millennium of butchers’ +meat, of a future day when carcases of Australian or South American +sheep and oxen shall dangle in English shops. Believe me, that time is a +long way off, and even when it does come there will be many more +thousands of hungry mouths to be filled, so that the supply will only +keep pace—even then rather lagging behind, as it does now—with the +demand of the coming years. If fuel and food cost nearly twice as much +at present as they did ten years ago, then surely it becomes our +imperative duty to see how we can, each of us, according to our +possibilities, make the material for warmth and cooking go twice as far +as they have done hitherto. Nor in making such an attempt are we blindly +groping in the dark, feeling our way step by step along the unaccustomed +paths of scientific experiment. It has all been done for us whilst we +were stupidly spending our capital, by men whose clear sight could +discern the dark days ahead; men who have, many of them, gone to their +rest, before the dawn of these dark days, but who have left behind them +clear instructions how to make the most of certain necessary substances +whose increasing value they foresaw twenty or thirty years ago. If, +therefore, we have the common sense to avail ourselves of the results of +these researches and experiments, which are still carried on day after +day by worthy successors of the great practical chemists I speak of, it +is quite possible we may so utilize their information as to make our +available material go a great deal further. At present we all confess +that the balance is uncomfortably adjusted, and a great many people are +throwing a great many remedies into the uneven scales. Let us try a few +grains of science, and a few more of common sense, and see what the +practical result will be. + +Before we proceed to do this, however, I should like to endeavour to +disabuse my readers’ minds of the idea that economy and stinginess are +synonymous terms. In point of fact they are precisely opposite. An +individual or a household habitually practising economy has a far wider +margin for charity and hospitality than the shiftless people who never +can keep a penny in their purses or a meal in their cupboards through +sheer “waste-riff,” as the north-country people call it. “Take care of +the scraps, and the joints will take care of themselves,” would be a +very good motto in nine-tenths of our middle-class households, and the +practical result of such a theory should be better food and more of it. + +For my own part I have little hope of any real progress being made in +the right direction until it shall have become once more the custom for +ladies to do as their grandmothers did before them, and make it their +business to acquaint themselves thoroughly with the principles and +details of household management. In many cases there may be no actual +pecuniary necessity for such supervision, but it would at all events +serve the good purpose of setting an example, besides teaching servants +the real good and beauty of a wise economy, a liberal thrift. So long as +the world lasts, so long will there be a Mrs. Grundy; but if Mrs. Grundy +can only be induced to go down into her kitchen and insist on a good use +being made of sundry scraps and bones, and odds and ends which at +present may be said to benefit no one, then will she deserve a statue in +the marketplace. If Mrs. A., whose husband’s income may be one or two +thousand a year, is able and capable to show a new cook how such and +such things should be done so as to combine economy with palatableness, +then will Mrs. B., whose income is barely a quarter of that sum, not +consider it beneath her dignity to do so. If this movement is to do any +good, it will have to be inaugurated by people whose social and +pecuniary position makes them, to a certain extent, unaffected by the +pressure which weighs so heavily on their poorer neighbours. And I am +going to attempt, so to speak, to kill two birds with one stone; to +persuade even rich people to insist on a due economy in the consumption +of the necessaries of life, and to assure poor people that it is +possible to make a good deal more of the scanty materials within their +reach than they do at present. When I speak of inducing rich people to +be economical, I have no culinary Utopia in my mind’s eye, when +millionaires will prefer to dine off cold mutton or to lunch on bone +broth. What I mean is, that rich people can surely be made to understand +that it is now-a-days absolutely a greater good to the commonwealth if +their households are so managed that little or no material for human +food can be wasted in them, than if they subscribed ever so liberally to +all the great charities of London. It is just in proportion as people’s +minds are enlarged and their field of mental vision extended by culture +and true refinement, that they will be able to perceive the importance +of the question. For that reason I hope and expect that the warmest +supporters of the attempt now being made by the National School of +Cookery to teach the mass of the English people how to make the most of +the material around them, will be found in the higher ranks of our +society, and that from them it will spread downwards until it reaches +the cottage where the labouring man is fed from year’s end to year’s end +on monotonous and often unwholesome food, as much from lack of invention +as from shallowness of purse. + +Before ending this preliminary lesson I feel it incumbent on me to state +most emphatically that I do not wish or intend to organize a crusade +against cooks! In the course of nearly twenty years’ experience of that +class of servants, I can declare that I have found very little +intentional dishonesty. Waste, extravagance, and bad management I have +met with over and over again, but these evils have almost invariably +arisen from want of opportunities of learning better, and I can scarcely +remember an instance where there has not been an effort made to lay +aside bad habits and acquire fresh ones. It is only too true, as dear +Tom Hood says, that— + + “Evil is wrought by want of thought, + As well as by want of heart.” + +So, if we can even teach our servants to think twice before they throw +things into the pig-tub, it will be taking a step in the right +direction. + +If a cook and her mistress are at daggers drawn, each regarding the +other as a foe to be distrusted, then, indeed, there is little real +economy to be expected. But if a cook sees that her mistress is willing +to give her fair wages for her services, and to consider her comforts in +other ways, whilst at the same time the lady thoroughly understands +_how_ the cook’s duties should be performed, the chances are that the +servant will readily submit to be taught a thousand little helpful and +comfortable ways. Such knowledge on the mistress’s part is not +incompatible with accomplishments and refinement of taste and manner, +but it is not to be learned from reading this book or any other book. It +can only come from study and a possibility of acquiring practical +experience on the subject whilst the future matron is still a young +girl; and if the scheme of the Committee of the National School of +Cookery can be carried out according to their views and intentions, it +will be a woman’s own fault if in future her first visit to her kitchen +be made as an inexperienced bride with a dozen years of apprenticeship +before her ere she can venture even to make a suggestion to her cook, or +dream of “tossing up” some little dainty dish with her own hands. + + + LESSON I. + THE CHEMICAL COMPOSITION OF OUR FOOD. + +The old German poet who wound up each verse of his famous drinking song +by the assertion that “four elements intimately mixed, form all nature +and build up the world,” was not so far wrong after all. The jovial +song-writer referred to his favourite formula for brewing punch; and +according to him the world of conviviality was built up by lemon and +sugar, rum and hot water. + +Now, it is perfectly true that four elements go a great way towards +building up the world; but, setting aside the question of brewing punch, +they are called carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. So universal is +their presence in the living and growing parts of animals and plants, +that they are always spoken of as “organic elements,” and science has +ascertained exactly the proportion in which each should exist in a +healthy condition of the human body. That body is incessantly, but +imperceptibly, undergoing a process which cannot be better described +than by the expression of perennial moulting, only that, whereas certain +animals cast off certain parts of their body—their skin, their hair, or +their feathers—every year, we lose a portion of our weight every day; +that is to say, we should lose it if we did not absorb through our +lungs, the pores of our skin, and our stomachs, sufficient oxygen, +carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen, to supply the loss caused by the wear +and tear of our daily life. There has even been an attempt made to prove +that our vital organs are entirely renewed every forty days or so, but +for this calculation there can be no really satisfactory data, although +there certainly is constant loss and gain going on within us. The +material for repairing this incessant waste which is the inevitable +result of the activity of our nervous and muscular system, is not +supplied alone by the starch, sugar, water, and fat, nor yet by the +milk, meat, and vegetables we consume, but by a due combination of +food-material which shall ensure the proper proportions of albumen, +fibrine, and caseine absolutely required by our changing frames. These +are rather hard words, but their meaning will be quite plain if we take +as familiar examples of the three indispensable ingredients, the white +of an egg, a piece of lean meat, and a bit of cheese. Everyone can +understand that, although these things contain the largest proportion of +one particular substance, still there may be many other substances in +which they are present, all together, and it is just to teach us this, +and to explain to us why we should rather give our attention to +procuring one form of food than another, that a knowledge of the +elements of Practical Chemistry is useful. + +In reading the accounts of the hardships and sufferings of explorers and +travellers, we are often surprised to learn that first one member and +then another of the expedition dropped down and died long before the +supplies were actually exhausted. This is particularly noticeable in the +account of Burke and Wills’ attempt to explore the great plains of South +Australia, where one by one the travellers died, not so much from sheer +lack of some sort of food to eat, as from the unhappy circumstance of +the only attainable food being utterly deficient in the ingredients +without which the human body cannot be nourished. For instance, there +was abundance of an alkaline plant on which the natives almost live at +certain times of the year, and occasionally even a few fish were caught. +But these materials taken by themselves were so weak in life-supporting +properties, that they failed to repair sufficiently the waste caused by +severe exercise and exposure to the weather. A man may be starved to +death, and yet scarcely feel hungry; that is to say, he may be able to +put food into his mouth which will allay the cravings of his appetite, +but which may not have the least power to nourish his body, so that he +will die as surely as though he had nothing to eat. + +Men’s instincts are generally the surest guides, and however much we may +have been disgusted to hear of such facts as of Esquimaux and Samoiedes +living upon blubber and fat, and even eating 8 lbs. or 10 lbs. of flesh +at a meal, Science teaches us that they were unconsciously adopting the +very best means of keeping up the supply of carbon and oxygen, or +internal warmth, which their cold climate rendered absolutely necessary. +So in the same way we often see a sick person take a fancy to some +curious kind of food, and perhaps begin to recover from the moment he +was allowed to have it. The chances are that if we could bring all the +practical chemists in the world into his sick-room, and they were to +analyse the component parts of that particular food, and at the same +time ascertain exactly which of the organic elements of human life was +insufficiently represented in the patient’s system, the result of their +researches would go to prove that the sick man knew exactly what he +wanted to build him up in health, better than anyone else. + +Nature is our surest guide after all, only unfortunately our +civilization has blunted our instincts, and rendered us more or less +artificial, so that we can hardly tell what _is_ Nature, and are obliged +to call in the aid of Science to teach us. Those who live in hot +countries do not require to provide their systems with internal warmth +by means of food, and we shall generally find that they prefer a diet +which will contain very little carbon. But it often happens that an +Englishman travelling or living in such places will become terrified at +his loss of relish for meat and heating food, and will fly either to his +doctor for tonics, to his cook for pickles to incite his flagging +appetite, or, still worse, to wine or brandy for stimulants to repair +his imaginary weakness. Nature, thus thwarted in her arrangements, turns +sulky, and the man falls ill, accusing the climate of the fault +springing from his own ignorance and folly. In his own country he knows +much better what is good for him; and in mixing bacon with his beans, or +in taking, like the Irishman, cabbage with his potatoes, or, like the +Italian, a strong kind of cheese with his maccaroni, he exhibits so many +purely chemical ways of preparing mixtures nearly similar to each other +in composition and nutritive value. + +In the rudest diet, and in the luxuries of the most refined table, the +main cravings of animal nature are never lost sight of. Besides the +first taste in the mouth, there is an after-taste of the digestive +organs, which requires to be satisfied if we want to arrange a perfect +diet. It is not necessary that a food should yield every kind of +material which the body requires to nourish it, for then one sort of +food might be sufficient for the wants of man. Each sort must fulfil one +or more of the body’s requirements, so that by a wise combination the +whole of its wants may be supplied. It is also to be borne in mind that +our nourishment is not only the solid food which we actually take into +our stomachs, according to the popular idea on the subject, but +comprises the water we drink and the air we breathe. But as these pages +should treat simply of the nourishment for our bodies, which nourishment +must needs be submitted to the action of fire, it is only with the +cooking of food we have to deal. + +In considering the question of the best and cheapest food, and the most +wholesome mode of cooking it, we must keep steadily before us the +principle, that it is not the quantity of food received into the human +body which nourishes it, but the proportion which can be digested of +such food. All else is sheer waste—an encumbrance worse than +useless—whose presence clogs and throws out of gear the delicate +mechanism appointed to deal with it. + +It is generally agreed by scientific chemists, that in casting around +for something like a form of food which could be taken as a type of all +others, there is none so perfect as milk. During the period when the +young of animals as well as of human beings are fed entirely on milk, +they grow very rapidly in the size of every part of their bodies. From +this we infer that milk must contain _all_ the essentials which go to +build up muscle, nerve, bone, and every other tissue. The first lesson +we learn from taking milk as an example of perfect natural food, is that +there should be a certain proportion of liquid mixed with the substances +we consume as food, though, as the animal attains its full size and +there is only waste to be made up, not growth to be provided for, the +necessity for the liquid form of food diminishes. + +Of the flesh-forming substances contained in milk, caseine is the most +important, and in the largest proportions; therefore it is with milk in +the form of cheese that it can best be dealt with as human food in this +place. Now, there is a popular theory that cheese is unwholesome, and it +certainly is an indigestible substance, but still it need only be +avoided by those who suffer from weak digestions. The hardworking man +who labours with his muscles in the open air, and whose stomach is in +the best possible condition to digest his food, does wisely to spend, as +he generally does, what little money he may possess in cheese, for +cheese contains nearly twice the quantity of nutritive matter he would +get in the same weight of cooked meat. Even with delicate feeders, a +small quantity of cheese taken with other food facilitates digestion, +for caseine is easily decomposed or put in a condition which causes +other things to change. When, therefore, we eat a piece of cheese after +a meal, it acts like yeast in bread, and starts a change in the food; +for the chances are that the stomach in trying to digest the cheese will +digest the rest of its contents at the same time. The mouldy cheese +which some people’s instinct leads them to prefer, acts more quickly in +this way than fresh cheese. When cheese is spoken of as a nourishing +article of food, especially to those who labour in the open air, it is +only cheese in which the cream has not been previously separated from +the milk, for the actual nutritive value will depend on the amount of +butter material left in it. The cheap skimmilk cheeses of South Wales +yield so little nourishment in this respect, that they are of but slight +value as flesh-formers, whereas the rich cheeses from Cheddar, Stilton, +and Ayrshire are not only infinitely cheaper than meat, but are also +very nourishing. + +It will perhaps only be necessary to take bread and beef as samples of +food which contain in themselves every element required to build up the +human frame, to repair the daily waste, and to preserve all the +conditions of perfect health. The generality of mankind have found out +the value of these substances for themselves without the aid of science; +but it may be as well to learn something about bread and beef, for the +simple reason that as we cannot always, under all circumstances, make +sure of having them as food, we may be able to select those substances +which come nearest to them in nutritive value, if we understand the +component parts which make them so important. + + + LESSON II. + BREAD AND BEEF. + +Nature is always busy cooking inside us. She is ever separating, +arranging, and making the best of the heterogeneous substances we give +her to deal with, and it is as well to find out what materials are the +easiest for her to manage, and so learn to economize her forces to the +utmost. Of all the food used to repair the incessant waste caused by +muscular exertion in the open air, bread and beef, as we have already +remarked, best fulfil the needs of the human system under those +conditions; and we will first look at the chemical composition of bread. + +It is needless to trace the growth of wheat before it arrives at the +mill to be converted into flour, but when it reaches that stage it comes +within the limits of the inquiry which we propose to ourselves. Wheat is +practically divided into two parts: the bran or outer covering, and the +central grain or fecula; and the object of the miller in the preparation +of flour is to mix the qualities as above mentioned so as to suit his +market, and either to separate the bran entirely or partially from the +grain, or to leave the whole in flour. According to the quality of the +grain and the amount of the husk left in it, the value of the flour +varies, and it is divided into four classes: the “fine households” or +best, “households” or “seconds,” brown meal, and biscuit flour; and the +value must chiefly depend on the estimate which is formed of the +nutritive proportions of the different parts of the bran. + +Many people say, vaguely, “Oh, brown bread is more wholesome than +white”; but it is impossible it can be more nutritious, though it may be +more palatable; for the outer part of the bran is glazed over with a +layer of flint which is quite indigestible. At the same time it must be +acknowledged that our practical experience teaches us that, although the +stomach may find it impossible to assimilate bran itself, yet the +presence of bran in bread stimulates the juices of the stomach to +greater activity, and therefore, like cheese, promotes the digestion of +other things. To a delicate organization it would probably act as an +irritant, and therefore its use should not be persisted in unless there +is absolutely no disarrangement of the digestive system. However finely +the _outer_ bran may be ground, it still remains innutritious, but the +_inner_ husk possesses great value from the large proportion of +nitrogenous matter which it contains. The whiteness of the flour is not +always a test of its purity or nourishing powers, as in cases where the +flour from red wheat has been most thoroughly sifted or “bolted,” it +will still keep a darker tinge than even “seconds” flour obtained from +white wheat, though the red wheat remains the most nutritious. + +It is an instance of what I have before remarked about the instinct +which guides our choice of food, that the navvies, who work perhaps +harder than any other men in the world, make it a point to procure the +very best and purest and most expensive wheaten bread. It is always the +first thing thought of in settling to a job of work in a new place, that +these men should be able to get the finest wheaten bread to eat. In +making this proviso they are really guided by principles of true +economy, for in their case the necessary waste of tissue is so great +that they cannot afford to take into their stomachs any superfluous +matter which will not nourish their bodies. And we will presently see +_why_ pure wheaten bread is the most nourishing of all the cereals, +although there are other forms in which wheaten flour might be used with +advantage, such as when made into maccaroni or sifted into semolina. + +In other countries, where wheaten bread is not the staple article of +food, it is curious to notice how those who have to work hard in the +open air have struck out substitutes for themselves which contain +ingredients as near to wheaten bread in chemical value as can be +procured. Thus the miners of Chili, whose lives are very laborious, feed +on beans and roasted grain; whilst some Hindoo navvies found their +physical powers too low to do a good day’s work when engaged in boring a +tunnel, until they left off eating rice and took to wheaten bread and +flesh. But the wheat grown in a tropical country is never of much value +for nutritive purposes, nor yet that grown in a cold one. A hot summer +in a sunny clime lying within the temperate zone produces the best +grain—that is, grain with the least proportion of water and the greatest +of nitrogen. Rice flour possesses so much less nitrogen than does +wheaten flour that its nutritive value is a good deal lessened, and in +countries where it is the staple food, a very great deal has to be +produced and consumed to afford the inhabitants anything like a +sufficiency of nourishment. The innutritive quality of rice is naturally +the reason why a scarcity of that food causes such fatal results in an +apparently short time. The people who habitually eat it have already +brought their vital powers to so low an ebb, that a very small +diminution of nourishment suffices to lower the life-supporting standard +beneath the possibility of existence. The chief reason why wheat, and +indeed all the cereals, are of such primary importance as food, is, that +whilst nitrogen is absolutely indispensable to the animal body, it +cannot be produced out of substances which do not contain it. The same +is true of carbon, but we must look to flesh to produce that. The chief +ingredients of our blood contain nearly 17 per cent. of nitrogen, +according to Liebig, and he was also convinced that no part of an organ +contains less than the same proportion of that elementary body. The +nitrogenous principle in wheat is called gluten; but it is the +_cerealin_ which acts as a ferment and assists in the digestion of the +other substances. + +In wheat this is what we find—water, gluten, albumen, starch, sugar, +gum, fat, woody fibre, and mineral matter, all in certain proportions, +but there is a great deal more starch than anything else. Next to starch +comes gluten, and we must remember it is in that ingredient the +nitrogenous principle lurks. If these component parts are again classed, +the result will be that wheat stands first as a “force-producer,” and +second as a “flesh-producer;” so, as strength is of more importance to +the navvies than flesh, they may well be excused for being so particular +about their bread. In another place we will speak of the simplest and +best modes of making wheaten flour into bread. Now we must pass on to +beef, and try to show why our national love of this particular form of +flesh-food has had its origin in an instinct of what was best to keep +ourselves in good working or fighting condition. + +Although bread actually produces fibrine, still it is best if we need +only look to it for gluten, albumen, and so forth, and depend upon flesh +for fibrine, where we shall find it ready-made to our hand (or, should I +say to our mouth?) in the fibres of the meat. Of all the forms of meat +used for human food, the flesh of the ox is that generally preferred +where there is any choice in the matter, and it is certainly both +nourishing and easily digested. In comparing the nutritive value of +different kinds of meat, we must distinguish between fat and lean, and +the amount of nourishment is in proportion to the fat or lean of the +meat. Fat (that is, carbon) generates heat, but lean generates heat and +forms flesh as well, for in lean flesh all four “organic elements” are +well represented. In both mutton and pork we get so much fat that the +actual nourishment contained in the same amount of beef (unless +exceptionally fattened) is greater, and it is also the fullest of the +red blood juices. Besides this, the loss in cooking beef is much less +than in cooking mutton, owing to the greater solidity of the flesh and +the smaller proportion of fat. “It is quite certain,” says Liebig, “that +a nation of animal feeders is always a nation of hunters, for the use of +a rich nitrogenous diet demands an expenditure of power and a large +amount of physical exertion, as is seen in the restless disposition of +all the carnivora of our menageries.” Hence it follows that for those +whose daily toil necessitates an expenditure of power, it would be the +truest economy if they were to endeavour to supply the waste of their +muscular system by ever so small a quantity of true flesh-forming food, +instead of being contented with a larger meal of a less nourishing +description, washed down by beer or spirit, which contains no real +nutritive worth. Malt and alcohol possess narcotic and stimulating +properties, and do no harm in moderation—indeed, to the weak or aged +they are of incalculable value. But a strong, healthy labouring man +would keep himself in much better working order if he economized his +beer and increased his animal food. + +I have seen with my own eyes a very forcible illustration of this truth +in the working man of New Zealand as he existed some years ago. In those +days beer and spirit used to be almost unknown except in the young +colonial towns, and the early settlers up the country lived entirely on +bread and mutton, for even potatoes were a rare and precious delicacy +for the first half-dozen years. Such a splendid physical condition of +the human frame it had never before been my good fortune to behold. +Everyone looked in the perfection of health: clear complexions, bright +eyes, and active limbs which seemed not to know fatigue, were the result +of many years of a compulsory and much-abused diet of bread, tea, and +mutton. When I say tea, it was really only used as a stimulant or for +warmth, for cold water was the universal beverage. People might grumble, +but they throve, and the generation whom I saw growing on that diet from +childhood towards man’s estate might challenge the world over to produce +their equals for vigour and strength. + +Perhaps it is rather “bull”-ish of me to insist in one page upon beef, +like motley, being “your only wear,” and then in the next going near to +show that mutton does just as well; but, seriously, one has only to turn +to Sir Francis Head’s account of his ride across the Pampas, to learn +how much exertion can be supported upon dried lean beef. It is not only, +as Sir Francis says, that he endured enormous and incessant fatigue +solely on this beef diet, but that months of such fatigue left him in +splendid physical condition, able to do anything or go anywhere. To +reconcile the two theories, however, I must add that the gallant veteran +confesses his beef diet rendered him somewhat lean and ill-favoured, and +that he did not look so handsome and well as my mutton-fed New Zealand +colonists used to do. + + + LESSON III. + FISH. + +In many parts of the coast of our sea-surrounded home, fish is, from +necessity, the staple food of the inhabitants; and although whole +districts in other parts of the world, such as Dacca, the Mediterranean +coast of Spain, &c., are fed almost entirely on fish, our business lies +only with our own people. There is no doubt that fish, even the +red-blooded salmon, should not be the sole nitrogenous animal food of +any nation; and even if milk and eggs be added, the vigour of such +people will not equal that of a flesh-eating community. But of all kinds +of animal food, the fresh herring offers the largest amount of nutriment +for the smallest amount of money, and this statement is the more curious +when we think of the turtle, which is produced in such enormous +quantities on the shores of the West Indian islands, as well as the +estuaries of the Indian coast. Although the flesh of the turtle is +palatable and wholesome, it possesses a cloying peculiarity, insomuch +that, after a year or two, Europeans will suffer hunger to the verge of +starvation rather than touch it. Perhaps this repugnance may be an +instinct arising from the fact that the phosphoric fat of the turtle +renders it difficult of solution in the digestive juices, and therefore +its really nutritious properties are counteracted by this superabundant +richness. + +So we see that the balance has to be very nicely adjusted: the old +proverb, “If a little of a thing is good, a great deal is better,” does +not hold good at all with our food. We have to take great care that, +according to the means within our reach, that supply of the proper +proportions of the organic elements which are as necessary to our bodies +as fuel to a fire, should be kept up. In fact, food is to our body +exactly what fuel is to a fire. If we choke up the range or stove with +dust and bricks, the fire will go out; and so, if we persist in +supplying the furnace of our life with materials which it cannot +possibly assimilate, or use as fuel, the fire of our lives will die out. +If people understood, or would even try to understand—and it is not so +difficult as many things uneducated people learn quite easily—why +certain kinds of food produce certain conditions of the human frame, +there would be far less disease. + +The great mistake is to think that actual want of money is at the root +of the bad food of English labourers. It is not so at all. I do not deny +the poverty nor the toil requisite, alas! to obtain even the scantiest +meal; but anyone with any practical experience of the very poor of our +own country will agree in the assertion that perhaps half of that +pressure is removable by education in the art of making the most of +things. I have often seen a poor woman who had been complaining to me of +the scarcity of fuel, or the want of food, prepare to light her fire, +cook her husband’s dinner, or bake her bread, in the most recklessly +extravagant manner. So with fish. How often at the time of the Irish +famine were the charitable English public startled by hearing that +people were starving on a coast swarming with fish? If it had been +possible to teach the poor ignorant sufferers, that although there was +not quite so much nourishment in fish as in meat, still it would have +made a palatable and wholesome addition to their starvation diet of +Indian maize, much distress would have been warded off. + +The flesh of fish contains fibrine, albumen, and gelatine in small +proportions, and fat, water, and mineral matter go to make up the rest +of the component parts. It is curious to find the difference of fat in +some fishes, especially mackerel, which possesses a very large +proportion, herrings coming next (some people say first), but at all +events they both should be cooked in such a way as to get rid of as much +of this fat as possible. Enough will remain to make the fish nourishing, +but if there be too much fat it renders fish indigestible. This danger +needs to be particularly guarded against with eels. Haddocks, whiting, +smelts, cod, soles, and turbot are all less fatty, and consequently more +digestible, than such fish as salmon, pilchards, sprats, and mackerel. +Raw oysters are more digestible than cooked ones, because the heat +coagulates and hardens the albumen at once, besides making the fibrine +too solid, and rendering it less easy for the gastric juices to +dissolve. + +We must bear in mind that the flesh of all fish _out of season_ is +unwholesome, and often makes people ill. I am afraid Mr. Frank Buckland +and other true lovers of pisciculture would view the sufferings of such +depraved _gourmets_ with great indifference, and it is, indeed, most +shocking to the food-economist to read of the shoals of baby soles an +inch or two long, of diminutive oysters, of the ova of the cod, the roe +of the salmon, and of the fry of the herring, which are brought to our +markets and readily sold in spite of vigilant bye-laws. + +It is not possible in this place to deal with the subject of cooking +fish: cooking it in such a manner that the fat which renders it often +unwholesome shall be eliminated, and the nourishing and gelatinous +portions of the fleshy substance made the most of. + + + LESSON IV. + VEGETABLES. + +I feel that I cannot begin this chapter better than by quoting what Dr. +Letheby says on the subject: + +“Primarily, _all_ our foods are derived from the vegetable kingdom, for +no animal has the physiological power of associating mineral elements +and forming them into food. Within our own bodies there is no faculty +for such conversion; our province is to pull down what the vegetable has +built up, and to let loose the affinities which the plant has brought +into bondage, and thus to restore to inanimate nature the matter and +force which the growing plant had taken from it.” + +It is thus plain that the beef and mutton we eat derive their fibrine, +gluten, and all other necessary ingredients from the vegetables on which +the oxen and sheep have fed, though such food does not apparently +contain any of these substances. It is a curious suggestion which I have +often met with, that if a vegetarian family lived in accordance with the +rules of one of their own peculiar cookery books, each member would +actually consume half an ounce more animal food a day than a man would +do who lived according to the usual scale of diet. + +Vegetables are aliments which dilute the blood, and contain more salts +than albumen. They convey very little nutriment to the blood, as we may +see in the feeble muscles of tropic-dwellers who feed almost entirely on +vegetables. On the other hand, they are of great service, first in the +digestive canal, where they dissolve the albuminous substances of the +meat, and afterwards in the blood itself, where, if they do not actually +nourish, they yet keep the albumen and fibrine in a liquid state, and +enable those substances to perform their proper functions more +vigorously. Of course the cereals would naturally stand first in a +chapter on vegetables, as they, of all the products of the vegetable +kingdom, are the most depended upon by man for food. As, however, wheat, +which is the principal cereal of England, has been noticed in another +chapter, we may as well proceed to examine the nutritive properties of +other vegetables. In such an inquiry the potato comes first, for, owing +to its large proportion of starch, it is the most actually nourishing of +all vegetables. This starch is transformed into fat by the digestive +process, and if potatoes could be eaten with a sufficiency of white of +egg, their nutritive value would be brought very near the meat standard. +Other roots and tubers contain a larger proportion of sugar, and there +is even fat present in some of them, but none are so rich in this +nourishing starch as the potato. A man may, and probably will, look fat +and rosy on a potato diet, yet his muscle will not be in first-rate +condition, nor will he be able to endure prolonged fatigue. In spite, +therefore, of the comparative low price of potatoes, they are not the +most economical food for a labourer, nor can he depend on their +nourishing starch alone to provide him with the requisite bodily +strength. All succulent vegetables are anti-scorbutic, and since the +potato was brought into use as a daily ration in the fleet (not a +hundred years ago), scurvy has gradually died out. If there is any +difficulty in providing potatoes—for during long voyages, when crossing +the tropics, the potatoes will begin to grow, and so become unfit for +food—lime-juice is the next best substitute, for it contains most of the +chemical ingredients which go to make the salts of potash found in all +fresh vegetables, but which is specially present in the potato. It has +often been pointed out that there is really no excuse for scurvy +now-a-days, for potatoes, cabbages, turnips, and carrots can be pressed +into a very small space, and yet carry their potash about with them. +Indeed, this process has lately been carried to great perfection. Other +vegetables are less actually nutritious than the potato, and the palate +grows sooner tired of them, but yet one hundred pounds of potatoes +contain barely as much nitrogenous matter,—that is to say, positive +nourishment,—as thirteen pounds of wheat. + +As the wholesomeness and digestibility of vegetables depend much on how +they are cooked, it is perhaps useless to enter here into a longer +explanation why vegetables, though they constitute the entire food of +animals whose flesh contains the highest forms of nourishment, will not, +of themselves, supply man with the food he requires to keep his muscles +strong and vigorous. In the countries where the inhabitants are +compelled by the necessities of the climate to live chiefly on them, +Nature is so bountiful that she does not call upon man to cultivate the +ground as we are obliged to do. Therefore, it stands to reason that in a +climate where severe manual labour is necessary to produce food, a diet +of a muscle-relaxing, fat-forming nature is a very poor economy. + + + + + PART II. + _THE BEST MODES OF PREPARING SOME SORTS OF FOOD FOR USE, WITH A SIMPLE + EXPLANATION OF THEIR RESPECTIVE ACTIONS._ + + + + + PART II. + REMARKS. + + +The very first principle of cooking is cleanliness. No skill or +flavouring can make up for the lack of it, and if it be present, there +is good hope of every other culinary virtue. But cleanliness is an +elastic term, and I wish it to be clearly understood that I would fain +stretch its interpretation to the utmost limit. Even the sacred +frying-pan would I ruthlessly scour, all unheeding the old-fashioned, +and, let us add, dirty axiom, that it should be left with the fat in it. +It is quite true that the fat which has been used to fry potatoes, or +fritters, or anything _except_ fish, may be poured out of the saucepan +into a daintily clean basin or empty jam-pot and used again and again, +but I would have every cook taught to clean her frying-pan thoroughly +every time she uses it. The fat in which fish has been fried should +_never_ be used for frying anything else, and an economical housewife +will take care that the fish is fried last. I have sometimes been met +with the assertion that it is too much trouble and takes too much time +to keep everything in a kitchen as clean as it ought to be kept. To that +I reply, that if a girl be brought up by a tidy mother or mistress to +understand and appreciate the value and beauty of cleanliness, she will +never be able to endure any other state of things. I declare that I have +observed greater dirt among the saucepans and a deeper shade of black +over everything in kitchens where neither poverty nor want of time could +be pleaded in excuse, than in a place where one pair of willing hands +has had to keep the living-room of half a dozen people tidy. + +I am not sure that I do not detest surface-cleanliness, with its +deceptive whiteness, more than genuine honest dirt about which there is +no concealment, for the sham snowiness is apt to throw youthful +housekeepers off their guard. For their encouragement I can assure them +that it is not such a superhuman task as it appears to see that +everything under their sceptre is kept scrupulously clean, for the +advantages of cleanliness over dirt are as patent as light over +darkness, and ninety-nine servants out of a hundred will soon come to +acknowledge this themselves. People of all ranks and classes differ in +this respect according to their instincts and training, and in many a +fine house a dirty cook would find things more after her own heart than +in a two-roomed cottage. + +Let us, for a moment, take the case of a girl who has been a housemaid +or nursemaid in a small family, and who marries a decent young artisan +earning from 15_s._ to 25_s._ a week. Here is enough money for comfort +_if_ the wife knows how to manage and is clean and tidy in herself. How +far will that, or twice that sum, go if she be an ignorant slattern? The +chances are that such a girl knows absolutely nothing of cooking, and +that she will have to arrive at even the smallest amount of such +knowledge through a long series of unpalatable meals and wasted food. +Perhaps it may be years before she attains to the production of any dish +which can fairly be called wholesome or nourishing; but surely she is +not to be blamed for her ignorance. She has gone straight from her +school to a situation whose duties have never taken her into the +kitchen, and she finds herself at twenty-five years of age at the head +of a working man’s home, with no more notion of how to manage their +income comfortably than if she were an infant. She has hitherto had no +opportunity of learning how to cook; but if she has been taught to be +thoroughly clean and tidy in her habits and ways, she may rest assured +that half the battle is won. The other half, the National School of +Cookery at South Kensington steps in to help her to win, and it is to be +hoped that in due time, by the establishment of branch institutions all +over the kingdom, by means of lectures and demonstrations (for cooking +cannot be taught by theory), any young woman in such a position will +know where to go if she wants to learn how to cook the food her +husband’s wages enable her to provide. But _cleanliness_ she must teach +herself, and practise it diligently in her little kitchen, for without +it she can never be a good cook, no matter how successful she be in the +matter of bread, or how deftly she may handle her frying or sauce pan. + + + LESSON V. + THE PREPARATIONS OF FLOUR USED AS FOOD. + +It is well known that so far as actual nutritive power goes, both oats +and barley, to say nothing of maize, rye, the millets, and rice, contain +as much (oats, indeed, more) valuable material for the maintenance of +the human body as wheat does; that is to say, they all contain certain +proportions of starch, protein, or the nutritive ingredient, represented +by oily or fatty matter, besides sundry saline particles. All these are +indispensable to the building up of the human body. Why then do we find +wheat more cultivated and used in greater quantities by all the +civilized nations than any of the other cereals? The only reason can be +that wheaten flour alone, of all these farinaceous foods, will make +fermented bread. + +I used at one time to think that bread-making must be the very simplest +thing in the world, but when I came to be face to face with flour and +yeast I found it was not so easy a matter to produce light good bread. +These pages are not written therefore for the instruction of bakers or +those fortunate people who have learned, at an age and under +circumstances when learning is easy, how to make bread, but with the +hope that they may prove ever so slight a practical help to those who +are as profoundly ignorant as I was, not so long ago. + +First of all the yeast has to be thought of. When near a town this thorn +in the path of the anxious bread-maker is removed by the facility with +which brewer’s or ready-prepared baker’s yeast can be procured. Brewer’s +yeast is simply the scum which rises to the top of the malt during the +process of fermentation, and is of no use to the beer, or wort. The +brewer is therefore glad to dispose of it, and the baker takes it off +his hands. But he does not put it raw into his bread. A special ferment +is first obtained from mealy potatoes, by boiling them in water, mashing +them, and allowing them to cool to a temperature of about 80° of +Fahrenheit. Yeast is then added to them, and in a few hours they will +get into a state of active fermentation with a sort of cauliflower head. +Water should now be gently poured into this mixture, and it must be +strained, after which a very little flour should be lightly sprinkled +into it. In five or six hours the whole will rise to a fine _sponge_, +when more water must be added, and a little salt, and then the yeast is +fit to use. It may now be bottled, but it is not advisable to make a +great deal at a time. On account of the fermentation, yeast-bottles can +only be kept from bursting by plugging their mouths with soft paper or +cotton-wool. If neither the fresh yeast from the brewers (which will not +keep by itself for more than a day or two) or the dried yeast, which +keeps a long time, can be obtained, then it will be necessary to boil +some dried hops in a very little water, put some sugar to them, and add +this compound when in a state of fermentation to the mashed potatoes +instead of the brewer’s yeast. + +Having procured or made the yeast, the next thing is to put the flour in +a large tin milk-pan, make a hole in the centre of the soft white heap, +and pour in a small cupful of yeast mixed with a large cupful of warm +water. A little of the flour is stirred in to this liquid so as to make +it rather more of a paste, and then the whole is covered with a clean +cloth and set to _work_ during the whole night. Great care must be taken +not to put it in too hot a place, as it will become dry and crusty in +the morning, and make heavy, tasteless bread. On the other hand, if the +temperature be too low, the flour will be dull and cold, the mixture +will not have penetrated it, and the bread will not rise. But, supposing +that the happy medium has been hit, and that the gas contained in the +yeast has made its subtle way among the flour, then more water must be +added by degrees and a very little salt. The whole mass should then be +lightly kneaded by _very_ clean hands, and when it has attained a +certain elastic consistency it should be quickly cut into separate +portions, dropped into well-floured tins (only half fill them with the +dough), which must instantly be placed in the oven. The oven should be +fairly hot to begin with, and its heat increased until the end. From +time to time a clean knife should be thrust into the loaf; if it comes +out with a tarnish on the bright blade, as though it had been breathed +upon, then the bread is not sufficiently baked, and there is no use in +taking it out of the oven until the knife can be readily drawn out with +a perfectly undimmed surface. The real art of bread-making consists in +the dough not being too stiff at first to resist the entrance of the +gas, nor too soft to permit the gas to pass through it quickly. It +should also be sufficiently kneaded so that the gas may become well +distributed throughout the mass, yet not over-kneaded, in which case a +good deal of it will have escaped, and the bread will consequently be +heavy. + +The difference between biscuits and bread is that there is no yeast in +the composition of the former; they are also for the most part +unleavened and very highly dried. Though valuable as a temporary +substitute for bread, they can never be so wholesome from the absence of +the water which is absorbed in the process of drying or baking. Biscuits +should invariably be taken with ever so small a quantity of liquid, for +by themselves they either absorb too much fluid from the juices of the +stomach, and so produce indigestion, or they fail to obtain as much +fluid as they require from those sources, and therefore remain a long +time undigested. Cakes are made by the substitution of soda or carbonic +acid for yeast, and the addition of sugar, fat, and eggs. Of all these +materials the sugar is the wholesomest and should be the most freely +used. The other ingredients are more difficult of digestion. + +Before leaving the subject of bread, it will be as well to notice the +extraordinary difference between batches of bread. It is no reason +because a household receives excellent bread one week—either from the +baker’s shop or its own kitchen—that the next week’s baking will not be +heavy and bad. This is because we trust so entirely to the good old rule +of thumb in our kitchens, scorning to make the temperature of the oven a +certainty by means of a thermometer. Half, and more than half, of the +hard baking and the over or under boiling and frying with which we are +afflicted arises from the extraordinary prejudice which exists against +the daily use of this indispensable little instrument. It is the only +reliable way of making sure of the oven, or the water, or the fat being +of exactly the right temperature; and yet what cook who “respects +herself” would at present deign to use a thermometer, still less even a +charming little contrivance which has been invented specially for her +use, and is called a frimometer? + +But to touch upon some of the other uses of flour. We are apt to look +upon macaroni as a luxury for the tables of the rich, when it is really +so low in price that it is within the reach of those who have any choice +at all as to what they shall eat. It is considered a foreign +composition, unworthy to take a place among the more solid flesh-formers +dear to the heart of the Englishman; but if he understood what it is +made from, he might perhaps modify his contempt for one of the most +nourishing and wholesome forms in which he can eat wheaten flour. +Maccaroni, then, is made by the simplest imaginable process, and there +is no reason in the world why its manufacture should not be carried on +in England, as indeed it is. The finest wheaten flour is made into a +peculiar smooth paste or dough, and afterwards driven through a cylinder +which cuts it into ribands or tubes. Wheaten flour contains, of course, +precisely the same amount of nourishment, whether it be made into bread +or into the _pasta_ from which macaroni is cut; but whereas bread can +scarcely be cooked again (except as toast), there are many ways in which +macaroni can be dressed so as to form a delicious food. Simply boiled +with milk and a little sugar it would be a wholesome and agreeable +change in children’s diet, and we must remember that for children who +are born with soft bones—that is, with too little phosphate of lime in +their bones—a diet of wheat will tend, more than anything else, to form +this deposit. When I say wheat, I include macaroni therefore, and +semolina, which is the very small grain left after grinding wheat in a +coarse mill. Such a mode of grinding gives but a small proportion of +flour, and a certain larger residue of coarse flour or fine grains, and +these grains are known as “semolina.” They are chiefly obtained from the +most nourishing of all the wheats, the red-grained wheat grown in +Southern Europe, and especially in the Danubian Principalities. + + + LESSON VI. + POTATOES AND OTHER VEGETABLES. + +Although it is rather a departure from the plan I pursued in the First +Part to speak in this lesson about potatoes, it is natural to me to do +it, because, so far as my practical experience—which was once +_in_-experience, remember—goes, it is almost as difficult to boil a +potato properly as to bake good bread. In the first place, we have one +of the highest chemical authorities on our side for saying that on both +wholesome and economical grounds potatoes should always be boiled _in_ +their skins. They do not look quite so well if they have to be peeled +afterwards, but not only is the actual material wasted by the process of +peeling—especially where there are no pigs to eat the peelings—but a +great deal of the starchy substance, which is exactly what makes the +potato so nourishing, is wasted. In roasted or baked potatoes, which +have been peeled before cooking, the loss in weight from the skin and +the drying is actually a quarter of the whole. It is curious to learn +that potatoes which come to us from the bog lands of Ireland are far +less watery and produce more starch than those which are grown on the +dry, light soils of Yorkshire. This innate dryness is one reason why the +Irish potato contains so much more nourishment than an English one. The +potato was first grown by Sir Walter Raleigh in his garden at Youghal, +in Ireland, and it is not much more than a century since its cultivation +became general in England. The first potatoes grown in England came from +a ship wrecked on Formby Point, near Liverpool. The tubers were planted +by chance on the soil close by, which closely resembled that of Ireland, +and no part of their new home has ever suited them better. The potato, +though, as we have seen, of a certain appreciable value as a +flesh-former, is not to be depended upon entirely as a force-producer, +for the proportion of water in 100 parts is 75·2. Next to water, its +peculiarly nourishing starch is most largely represented, and stands at +15·5. From this starch also a _pasta_ can be made which gives a fair +macaroni, but of course the advantages of the wheaten paste would be +absent. + +In ordinary kitchens where a steamer is used, the process of boiling a +potato is easy enough, and that dry mealiness dear to the heart of a +good cook can be reckoned upon. But if only a saucepan be attainable, +then, having well washed—nay, even scrubbed and _brushed_—your potatoes, +put them into it with _cold_ water; add a little salt when the water +boils; at first it should only be allowed to boil slowly, but it may +boil as fast as you like during the last five minutes. Some varieties of +the potato can be cooked much sooner than others; there is often the +difference between them of twenty minutes and three-quarters of an hour. +From time to time they must be tried with a fork, which should go in +freely when they are sufficiently boiled. The potatoes being now cooked +enough, pour off as much water as can possibly be got rid of. Sprinkle a +little more salt, take off the lid of the saucepan and set it on again +in such a manner that the steam can escape, but keep the saucepan for a +few minutes on the oven to dry the potatoes thoroughly. The saucepan +should be lightly shaken from time to time to prevent the potatoes +sticking to the bottom. Then serve either in a wooden bowl, with a clean +cloth or a napkin, or else in a dish with perforated holes in the cover +so that the vapour can escape. If potatoes form the principal diet of a +family, eggs should be added where practicable, and milk, or dripping, +or any sort of fat, as the potato itself is very deficient in albumen +and fat. + +Next to the potato, the cabbage is the most widely cultivated of all +vegetables, yet it is far inferior to the others in the nutriment +contained in a given weight. In point of value the parsnip ranks next to +the potato as a flesh-former, and possesses six per cent. of carbon. +Parsnips are followed closely by carrots and onions, though the latter +are principally used as a relish. But all vegetables are chiefly +valuable for their anti-scorbutic properties, and as a flavouring for +insipid food. Lentils are particularly nutritious, and the food sold +under the name of “Revalenta Arabica” is only the meal of the lentil +after being freed from its indigestible outer skin. In peas we find a +great deal of caseine; hence, in an analytical table they rank next to +wheat as a flesh and force-producer, whereas we should find the other +vegetables relegated under the head of “Non-nitrogenous substances,” +that is to say, substances which, taken by themselves without milk, +butter, or fat of any kind, are absolutely incapable of producing either +flesh or force. In Ireland it is the milk taken with the potato which +makes it so nourishing. If potatoes were eaten quite alone, the consumer +would need to eat an enormous quantity to keep himself in any sort of +condition, and he would never be able to do any amount of real hard work +in the open air. + +It is quite certain that sufficient value is not attached in England to +the importance of the cultivation of vegetables. If a few leeks or sweet +herbs, a row of potatoes, or a dozen cabbages, were planted in many a +tiny spot beside a cottage door, which spot at present is but a puddle +or a down-trodden mass of caked mud, the hungry mouths inside would +stand a better chance of being filled. When a poor woman has to go with +her pence in her hand and buy every onion or potato or sprig of thyme +which she wants to improve the flavour of the family meal, the chances +are she will look upon them—and very justly, too—as luxurious additions +to the bill of fare, and do without them as much as possible. All over +France the poorest peasant has her “flavourings” close to her hand; and +it is difficult to over-estimate the boon which a few common vegetables +and herbs are, when used to assist in converting a scrap of bacon, a +bone, and a little pea-meal into a warm, comforting, nourishing mid-day +meal. + +Mr. Ruskin attaches great importance to the cultivation of the land—the +making the best of every inch of our own native soil; but I fear he +wants to try experiments, and grow all sorts of curious things in every +conceivable part of the British Isles, whereas I only confine my +ambition to those little shabby nooks and odds and ends of ground which +lurk around stray cottages, whose occupants evidently prefer sitting in +the tap-room of the “Chequers” to digging for an hour in a scrap of +garden morning and evening. Perhaps, if, in time, we are able to show +the working man how enormously his culinary comfort can be increased by +a little vegetable flavouring, he may take to planting and cultivating +even a square rood of ground, if that be all he can call his own. I say +nothing of the gain to health, for that is so easily ascertained by his +own or his neighbour’s experience. The seeds of common vegetables are +very easily procured—in fact, they can almost be had for the asking; +and, at all events, one day’s beer-money would go a long way towards +keeping a family in onions for a year if laid out in seed. A little soup +or stew thus flavoured without extra expense, would surely be a vast +gain on the hunch of dry bread and mug of weak, cold coffee, which I +have often seen a labourer eating for his dinner. Then there only +remains the trouble to be considered; and a lazy man will have to make +twice as much exertion in the long run to keep body and soul together. + +I repeat: it is not actual money which is absolutely wanting in such +cases. It is that the few pence are generally laid out in the most +improvident way—in a way which becomes gross extravagance when it is +contrasted with what the same pittance would produce if properly +managed. I have no hope of this little book, or any other book, great or +small, working a miraculous and thorough reform, and converting every +cottage in the country into a smiling abode of peace and plenty. What I +_do_ aim at and look forward to is, first, to arouse attention to the +subject in those whose social rank is _above_ that of the hand-to-mouth +working man; and next, to induce rich people to take as much trouble and +spend as much money in providing their servants and workmen with the +opportunity of learning _how_ to cook their food, as they now do in +teaching them and their children to read and write. + +Mr. Ruskin, in his “Fors Clavigera,” insists very strongly that in his +model farm, his land bought out of the proceeds of the “St. George’s +Fund,” every girl shall be taught “at a proper age to cook all ordinary +food exquisitely.” But I would go a step beyond, and I would have every +boy taught also. I don’t know about the cooking exquisitely! I should be +satisfied, at first, if every boy and girl could be taught to cook even +a little. For a knowledge of cooking, at all events in its simplest +form, appears to me to be every whit as necessary for a man, if he is to +move about the world at all, as it is for a girl. If the man does _not_ +move about, and is fortunate enough to marry a girl trained and taught +cooking either at Mr. Ruskin’s model farm or at the National School of +Cookery, then he may forget, or lay aside, his culinary lore as quickly +as he pleases! But if he emigrates, or enlists as a soldier, or does any +of the hundred and one things which men are obliged to do in these busy +days, the chances are that he will find ever so slight a knowledge of +cooking a very great boon and blessing to him. + +One thing is very puzzling to me, though I know not why it should be +brought in _àpropos_ of vegetables. It is the staunch conservatism, +where food or cooking is concerned, of the working classes of England. +In politics they are very often to a man, nay, even to a woman, advanced +Liberals, to say the least of it. They are much more ready to advocate +and adopt sweeping changes in things of which, after all, they cannot +know a great deal; but they distrust anyone who suggests that they could +improve the matters which lie close around them, and with which they are +at least familiar. “My ould grandmother did it that way, and she lived +till ninety,” is an unanswerable argument against making the scrap of +meat into a _pot-au-feu_, and adding vegetables and meat to it, instead +of frizzling and burning the same scanty portion of meat in a greasy +frying-pan over a smoky fire. I feel persuaded, therefore, that the +great reform in cooking and economic management of our food-material +must _begin_ in the classes above the working man. When he sees and +learns by experience that an ounce of meat, properly dressed, will go +further in actual nourishment and strength-imparting qualities than two +ounces heated in his old barbarous method, he may perhaps be induced to +consent to his “missis” or the “gals” being “learned” how to cook. My +own private hope—and I would almost say expectation—is, that an increase +in the artisan’s or the working man’s comfort at home,—such comfort as +better cooked food and more of it must surely bring,—will lead to his +wages finding their way oftener into the butcher’s shop than the +public-house. A well-fed man is very seldom a drunkard; and it may be +that in the spread and development of an attempt at culinary reform, two +birds may, all unconsciously, be killed with one stone. In improving +cottage comforts we may perhaps strike a great blow (with our +frying-pans and soup-kettles!) at the shining glasses and quart pots of +the gin-palace. God grant that it be so! + + + LESSON VII. + MODES OF PREPARING BROTH OR SOUP FROM BEEF. + +The reason I have placed this subject in a separate lesson is because of +its enormous importance in the sick-room. More delicate children are +reared into health and strength, and more lives are saved, by good +beef-tea than most of us have any idea of. This is the more +extraordinary when we remember that even the strongest and best beef-tea +contains an almost infinitesimal amount of actual nourishment. So that +it is not to its capacity for supplying to the wasted and feeble human +frame either strength or nourishment that we must attribute its +wonderful efficacy. If the strongest beef-tea be analysed, the meat +would be found to have lost in the process of turning into liquid nearly +all its albumen, fibrine, and caseine. In other words, it would have +parted with its most important constituents; and we might suppose it +therefore to be valueless to the human system. But Experience steps in +where Chemistry stops and shakes her head, and Experience declares that +well-made beef-tea possesses a reparative power on a weakened digestion +which nothing else in the world except milk can come near. It may not +actually contain all the elements of nourishment within itself, as milk +does, but it is a wonderful assimilator. It soothes and repairs and +collects the enfeebled organs and juices, and enables them to return to +their proper functions. Therefore we say that beef-tea is nourishing, +when it is not in the least nourishing in itself, but it has the power +of making ready for other substances to nourish. + +Although every sort of meat can be made into soup or broth, beef makes +the best and wholesomest. For one reason of this we must search in the +fibrine, which holds more red juice than that of any other meat, and it +is this red juice which we particularly want. Everybody knows that the +leanest meat is the best for soup-making; the least particle of fat is +out of place in broth or soups, and indeed renders it absolutely +unwholesome as well as nauseous. + +In many emergencies beef-tea has to be prepared at almost a moment’s +notice, and then I would recommend that the meat be as thoroughly freed +from fat as possible, chopped finely, and soaked in its own weight of +cold water for ten minutes or so. Then heat it slowly to boiling-point, +let it boil for two or three minutes, and you will have a strong and +delicious beef-tea, better than can be obtained by boiling in the +ordinary way for many hours. Another method is to place the +finely-chopped meat in a large, clean jam-pot, with a little water and a +pinch of salt. The mouth of the vessel should be closed by means of a +tightly-tied bladder or a thick paste all over it, as if it were a +meat-pudding, and placed in a saucepan half full of cold water. The +saucepan should then be covered with its own lid and set upon or by the +side of the fire to simmer slowly. If there be no time to let the +beef-tea or essence in the jam-pot get cold, it must be skimmed as +clearly as possible, and any extra globules of fat floating on the +surface removed by a careful application of white blotting paper. Some +people do not add any water at all to the cut-up beef, under the +impression that the essence must be stronger without the addition. But +my individual experience teaches me that whereas the difference in +nutritive value is very slight, sick people do not like the beef-tea +thus prepared, and will not take it so readily as when it has been made +after the following manner. It is necessary, however, to state that the +process I am now going to describe _cannot_ be hurried, and that it is +therefore imperative to have one day’s notice when beef-tea made in this +way is required. + +Take two or three pounds of the leanest beef to be procured, add one +quart of water, and two shank bones of mutton, which bones should be +well washed before using. A pinch of salt, and another pinch of grated +lemon-peel, or a tiny bit of the peel itself, are all I should add, for +a sick person’s throat is generally too tender for pepper, and his +palate too delicate for anything like flavouring or sauces. The lean +meat and shank bones are to be put into a saucepan, whose white +enamelled lining should be daintily and scrupulously clean, and the +saucepan, with its lid fitting very close indeed, set by the side of a +moderately good fire to simmer slowly the whole day long. It must never +approach boiling, and yet the action of fire upon its contents should be +decided, though gentle. At the last moment before shutting up for the +night, strain the soup through a fine hair sieve into a clean basin, and +in the morning you should find, beneath a preserving scum of fat, about +a pint of clear, solid, beef jelly, which can either be eaten cold, or +warmed, without the addition of one drop of water, into a delicious +_clean_-tasting cup of beef-tea. In cold weather double the quantity may +be made, but in that case it should be poured into _two_ basins, and the +fat left to hermetically seal the second basin until it be wanted in its +turn for use. In hot weather the beef-tea should be prepared fresh +_every_ day for the next day’s consumption. I have seen beef-tea +rendered perfectly colourless and white by repeated strainings through +fine muslin sieves, but I do not know that this is any particular +advantage. + +In some cases, such as the terrible state of the intestines after +typhoid fever, beef-tea is no use as a reparative agent when prepared +after the above fashion. The meat should then not be cooked at all, only +cut up as lean and fresh and full of red juice as possible, and soaked +for ten or twelve hours in a small quantity of _cold_ water. This will +give a liquid which has never been submitted to the action of fire, and +which looks and tastes like the gravy of under-done meat, but it is of +the highest reparative value to the lacerated stomach. A judicious nurse +will take care that her patient never _sees_ this sort of beef-tea until +he has learned to drink it freely, which he will do if not at first +disgusted by the sight of the clear red fluid. + +I have dwelt thus minutely on the value and process of making beef-tea +because I believe it to be the strongest resource of the culinary art in +sickness; but the proper preparation of soup is of great importance in +all households. It is at once an economical, wholesome and savoury form +of nourishing food; yet, to many a _plain_ cook, soup, unless she has +costly materials bought expressly for its manufacture, merely means +greasy hot water flavoured by a _soupçon_ of plate-washing! No soup +should be used the same day it is made, on account of the impossibility +of removing all the scum and fat. But, supposing that a scrag end of +mutton, or the trimmings of cutlets, or bones with a fair amount of meat +left on, should have been simmering gently all the preceding day, and +allowed to get cold at night, so that the layer of fat (which can be +used for other purposes) is easily removed, then we should proceed this +way, always imagining it is wanted for the use of a poor and economical +family. To the clear, fat-free soup, add half a tea-cupful of +well-washed pearl barley or rice—and we must remember that the inferior +and cheaper kind of rice does just as well as the best for this +purpose—a few cleaned and cut-up vegetables, a little onion, pepper and +salt, a sprig or two of herbs tied together, a little pea-meal, any cold +potatoes left from yesterday’s dinner, and the whole allowed to simmer +together, without removing the remains of the meat and bones, until it +be wanted, great care being taken that it should not boil away. The +result of this simmering _ought_ to be a nice, warm, comforting, +_clean_-tasting basin of broth, very different to the weak, greasy +liquid which results from a hastier preparation. It is a very common +mistake with all cooks, except the very best, to put too much water in +the first instance to their materials for soup, and so produce a good +deal of weak, tasteless meat-tea, instead of a smaller quantity of +strong, good soup. English people do not use macaroni half so freely as +they might, for, apart from its nutritive value as offering such a pure +form of wheaten flour, it is exceedingly cheap. Boiled with ever so +little soup made in the way just described (before the addition of the +rice or vegetables), it would form an excellent and wholesome change to +the smallest bill of fare. + +All cooks prefer beef to anything else for making soup, but a very +nourishing and delicate broth can be made from two parts of veal and one +part of lean beef, or from chicken or rabbit, though the latter is not +advisable for sick people. Everyone knows the value of good, fat-cleared +mutton broth such as I have just described, but there is a good deal of +truth in the instinct which leads the sick person to prefer beef-tea, +and the healthy labouring man to buy a couple of pounds of beef instead +of double the quantity of any other meat. Beef contains most iron, which +in the state of oxide is one of the chief constituents of the blood: and +we must bear in mind that the nutriment of all carnivorous animals is +derived from the blood originally. A diet, therefore, to be +strengthening, must contain a certain amount of iron, and we do not +obtain this so readily from any other meat as from beef. + + + LESSON VIII. + FUEL AND FIRE. + +The object of cooking is to render the flesh of animals and vegetable +substances easier of mastication, and therefore easier of digestion. How +this object is carried out in most English households let each declare +for himself. And yet there is nothing in the world so simple and so +certain in its effects as the action of fire upon food, if only we can +learn to apply and to regulate that action according to certain laws. I +propose therefore to devote a short lesson to each of the simplest +processes of cooking. + +But before doing so I may be permitted here to say a word or two about +the management of the kitchen fire. Few ladies, or even those servants +whose duties lie entirely upstairs, and who see a bright or blazing fire +every time they go into the kitchen, can have any idea how difficult a +thing it is to keep up a good fire all day. When I say a “good fire,” I +mean a good _cooking_ fire—a clear, bright fire, which, without being a +roaring furnace, shall yet be equal to any emergency. It can only be +managed by constant small additions of coal, unless a great deal of +cooking is imminent, and then of course more fuel must be added each +time. But a really good cook will so contrive as to have a small, bright +fire all day long, even when she is not actually cooking. Whenever I +hear that a bit of bread cannot be toasted, or a cup of soup warmed, +because the fire has “just been made up,” I know what has happened. The +cook has allowed the fire to burn down to the last bar of the grate, and +then she has emptied half a coal-scuttle on the few live embers. For +about two hours, therefore, it is useless to expect any cooking from +_that_ fire, and it will be fortunate if no sudden call be made for its +services. Now, if the cook had watched her fire, and had kept it +supplied from time to time with small portions of coal, this emergency +would never have arisen. She could screw up her fireplace to very small +dimensions and yet keep an excellent fire, fit for any unexpected +demand. It is doubtful whether, when she acts on the momentary impulse +of trying to make up for lost time, a cook has any idea of the mischief +she does. Letting the kitchen fire, burn low and then flinging on coals, +is not only an inconvenient, but it is a recklessly extravagant +proceeding. The fire and fireplace have become thoroughly chilled, and +the fresh fuel evaporates almost entirely in the form of smoke for a +long time before the remainder is in a state to use for cooking. + +If this rule of preventing waste by constantly adding small portions of +fuel were better understood and acted upon, cooks would not have such a +bitter prejudice against the use of coke. It is, of course, absolutely +valueless to a half-extinguished fire, especially when, instead of being +put on in small quantities, it is flung on in shovelfuls. But to an +already clear, well-established fire, nothing is so satisfactory or +economical an addition as a few lumps of coke judiciously put on. If +frying or broiling is to be done, the fire _cannot_ be too clear, and +coke, if it be properly managed, will give the clearest fire in the +world, but then it requires a certain amount of intelligence and +willingness on the part of the cook to use it to advantage. When I use +the word cook, I do not mean only a regular servant, but any young woman +who is acting, for perhaps the first time in her life, the part of cook +in her husband’s, or father’s, or brother’s house. She will find her +culinary labours much simplified if she keeps the needs of the kitchen +fire always before her mind. I don’t mean to say that such a one may not +what is called “make up” her fire, and leave it untouched between +breakfast and dinner, and dinner and tea, because the chances are a +hundred to one she will not need it, and her duties probably call her +elsewhere; but a cook in a house where there is a family, and perhaps +sickness, or even very young children, ought never for one moment to +forget or neglect her fire all through the day. + +I _could_ give her scientific reasons about radiation, and use many long +words to prove to her why, if she keeps her grate well blacked and +polished, she will find her fire burns better and gives out more heat, +but I prefer to appeal to everybody’s experience and common sense if +such warmth and brilliancy be not the result of a beautifully clean and +shining fireplace. + +To Sir Benjamin Thomson (an English knight and an American by birth, but +better known to us by his Bavarian title of Count Rumford) we owe +perhaps more improvement in the economical management of fuel and the +construction of stoves and fireplaces, with due regard to that economy, +than to anyone else in modern times. He was induced to turn his +attention to the subject by the scarcity of fuel on the Continent, and +his ideas naturally expanded and enlarged themselves by constant +practice. At last he succeeded in inventing a method of heating houses +and of cooking food which did not require much more than half the usual +amount of fuel, and this economy in firing became such a mania with him +that the joke of the day used to be that his highest ambition was to be +able to cook his own dinner by means of his neighbour’s smoke. + +However that may have been, it is very certain that to Count Rumford we +owe a great increase of our knowledge on such subjects, and the reason I +mention him particularly in this place is that he never seemed to weary +of insisting on the necessity of a well-kept brightly-blacked fireplace +to the due economy of the fuel used in it. He explained incessantly how +that kind of heat which is absorbed by either black or white surfaces is +totally devoid of light, and may almost be considered as pure, radiant +heat. So that the first point to be taught, in ever so humble a kitchen, +is that the fireplace should be exquisitely clean, besides well and +brightly blacked, in order to give the fuel which will be used in it a +fair chance of giving out, by radiation, every particle of its latent +heat. + +The next thing to be considered is the division and arrangement of that +fuel, beginning from even the starting-point of lighting the fire. A +careful housewife—careful either on her own account or her +mistress’s—will only use half as much wood or shavings to start her fire +with as a thriftless one, because she will take trouble to learn that +there is a scientific but perfectly simple mode of laying and lighting a +fire. She will be told in theory, and prove for herself by practice, +that she must thoroughly clear out her grate, clean and brighten it up +to the highest pitch, and then place in it whatever is her lightest +material, her paper, or dry grass, or shavings, whatever she has at her +command. Next come the slender twigs or dried sprays of heather of the +country, or the neatly-cut firewood of the town. Unless all this is +thoroughly dried over-night, it will be worse than useless, and it is in +attention to details of this sort that true economy consists. A damp +bundle of wood or twigs will smoulder, and be consumed without making +any appreciable difference in the state of the fire, whereas half the +quantity, when thoroughly dry, will start a satisfactory blaze in a few +minutes. Then should the cinders be thoroughly and carefully sifted; and +nowa-days I have no hesitation in saying this is as imperatively +necessary in a palace as in a cottage, on account of the increased price +of coal. No cinders should be relegated to the dusthole at all, for +everything, except actual dust or the hard flakes (called clinkers) left +by coke, can be used. The largest cinders may be laid lightly on the +logs of the blazing sticks, the smaller ones being thrown up, later, at +the back. Cinders are the best material in the world for starting a +fire, and even small lumps of coal should only be sparingly used at +first. Above all, a beginner should be taught that her fire will _never_ +light or burn up if she does not take care to establish a free +circulation of air beneath. I am, of course, speaking of ordinary open +fireplaces. Stoves and other patent fireplaces are generally constructed +on entirely different principles, and require special instruction for +the management of their fuel, but this is easily obtained from the +person who fixes them. + +Taking it for granted, then, that our ideal cook thoroughly understands +how to light her fire, and is impressed with a due sense of the +importance of a well-blacked shining kitchen-range, or humbler tiny +fireplace—the rule is the same everywhere—and that she is one of those +capable people who would disdain to shelter themselves behind the excuse +of an ill-tempered chimney or a “bad draught,” we will presently proceed +to see what she should cook upon her fire. + + + + + PART III. + _THE PRINCIPLES OF DIET AND A FEW CHEAP AND EASY RECIPES._ + + + + + PART III. + REMARKS. + + +The first principle of diet is that the stomach should not be asked to +receive more than it can digest; and the second, that the food should be +suitable to each person’s digestion. We are very tyrannical to our +stomachs, and they, in their turn, generally retaliate upon us sooner or +later. If a certain form of diet agrees with one individual, it is no +absolute rule that it should suit our neighbour; but we too often insist +on feeding others according to what we imagine agrees with ourselves. +Especially is this the case with children’s diet, and few grown-up +people make allowance for the healthy appetite of girls or boys who are +still growing, or understand how much food-material the +rapidly-expanding frame requires. + +My own firm conviction is that no schoolboy ever gets as much nourishing +food as he requires, and that is the secret why boys of fourteen or +fifteen years old scarcely ever look anything but thin and pinched. The +general remark is, “Oh, they are growing so fast!” So they are, and that +is the exact reason why their food should be particularly nourishing, +more so than at any other time of their lives. Instead of that, an +English schoolboy gets _two_ slops and only _one_ nourishing meal a day, +during the years of his life when he requires the greatest amount of +nutritive food. Think of the actual force-producers contained in a +schoolboy’s breakfast and tea (or supper), and think of the amount of +exercise his restless young limbs will take or have taken in the course +of the day. After a game of football or cricket, or a paper-chase, a boy +sits down generally—I might almost say invariably—to a meal of weak tea, +skim milk, bread, and perhaps cheese or a little butter. I am not, of +course, speaking of cheap schools. When a person undertakes to feed and +teach and board a boy for a sum between 20_l._ and 50_l._, or even more, +it is well-nigh impossible, at the present scale of prices, to give him +better, or even as good food as what I have described; but it does +appear to me a shame that at the more expensive schools to which boys +are sent by parents of fairly good means, the scale of diet should be +kept so low, and the proportion of really nutritive food so small. +Perhaps the only exceptions to this rule are to be found in the liberal +tables of some of our best public schools, but even there the boys, +without being absolutely starved, do not get enough to eat, and two +meals out of the three will probably contain insufficient nourishment. +In girls’ schools, I fancy, this evil is still more decided, and a poor +diet whilst a child is growing rapidly is the root of delicate +constitutions, feeble frames, and general “breaking down” at the outset +of life. + +There should also be the greatest imaginable difference in diet between +different classes of workers; for although a certain section of the +community monopolizes to itself the honourable title of _the_ “Working +Class,” the term embraces many more thousands than the labouring man +imagines. The popular idea, for instance, among the poor and ignorant +masses who work for their daily bread, is that the Lady who rules over +this country leads a blissful life of idleness, seated on her throne all +day, orb and sceptre in hand, and gazing placidly before her into space. +Now, I believe it to be a fact that few people in all Her wide dominions +work really harder, in every sense of the word, than our dear and good +Queen. At the head of the workers her Majesty may well claim to take her +place, and then will come a crowd of men and women who wear good clothes +and live in fine, or at all events decent, houses, and yet work +absolutely harder, all the year round, than any day labourer in the +Midland Counties. + +The diet for work of this nature must necessarily be very different to +that required by the man who exercises his muscles in the open air, and +whose appetite and digestion possess far larger capacities of receiving +and assimilating food than those of the poor brain worker who uses up +his life-power at a much quicker rate. The absence of fresh air, and the +want therefore of constantly renewed supplies of oxygen to the blood +through the lungs, prevent the man who works indoors with his head or +his hands from feeling so hungry, yet the exhaustion of his nervous +system demands as urgently that it should be renewed by means of food. +At the same time the digestion of such a one is weaker, and cannot +manage gross substances. For these workers, then, a diet where the +cooking is so perfect, however simple it may be, that there shall be as +little strain as possible thrown upon the gastric juices, is of the +first importance. To brain-workers albumen is even more necessary than +fibrine, and raw eggs afford this in its purest form. There is a popular +fallacy that eggs beaten up in milk are rendered doubly nourishing, but +if the egg be fresh and good the combination is rather more fitted to +hinder than to promote digestion. It would be better to beat the egg up +in a little brandy or wine, and wine is the best. Fibrine, in the form +of meat, should be sparingly used by those who live by their brains, and +the meat should be of the best quality, and always very well and +delicately cooked. Fish supplies most easily the phosphorus which is +needed by such a system, and good pure milk and cream are also very +essential articles of diet. + +But to the man who exercises his muscles in the open air a very +different regimen must be prescribed. The labourer instinctively stops +the gaps between his scanty meals with cheese, which is the best thing +for him, and he enriches his poor diet of potatoes with bacon. Some day, +when his wife has learned how to make the most of every scrap of meat, +he ought to be able to vary his food with a good drop of warm nourishing +broth. If only he could be persuaded to diminish his beer and increase +his allowance of meat, he would find himself in a far better condition +for work. + +The diet of our soldiers, and even of our sailors, appears to me—in +spite of tables showing the proportions of flesh-formers and starch, of +gluten, and heaven knows what, swallowed daily by every soldier—to be +really insufficient for a healthy man with a good appetite. They may be +supplied with food enough to prevent anything like actual starvation, +and even to keep them in some sort of condition, but I question whether +a British soldier ever knows what it is to feel thoroughly satisfied +after his meals for one whole day. It is just possible, is it not, that +the men would be easier kept away from the canteen if they had as much +as they could eat? Tables of food-proportions are very well in their +way, but I know that I have seen working men in New Zealand, and growing +boys of eighteen and twenty years old in colonies where meat was cheap, +consume fibrine—or, in other words, eat plain roast meat—in quantities +which would soon leave the most liberal military dietary several pounds +behind. + +It is not at all certain that, in spite of danger and discomforts, our +soldiers do not really fare better abroad, or in time of war, than at +home in peace. In the face of a national excitement we are not so very +particular as to the number of ounces of meat to be dealt out to the men +who have to stand between us and ruin, so the soldier has then a better +chance of occasionally getting as much as he can eat. If he could cook +his own food, he would be still better off; and anyone who saw those +good-looking German soldiers cooking their rations in the little tent +behind the School of Cookery last summer, must remember how deftly they +set about their preparations, and how savoury was the result of a +pea-sausage and a bone or two. No doubt every year brings its +improvements in these matters, and if a soldier who fought under +Marlborough could see the rations and barrack accommodation of his +modern brethren-in-arms, he would indeed think they had nothing to +complain of in the way of food and shelter. But still there is ample +room for improvement, and I would endorse the suggestion often made +before, that the British soldier be taught to cook, and to make the most +of his rations by such cooking. Each man might take it in turn to try +his hand over the fire, and there might be some regimental emulation in +the form of small prizes for clever contrivances to vary the food, and +so forth. + +I am aware that the food is not nearly so monotonous as it used to be a +short time since, when all the meat eaten by soldiers was invariably +boiled; but still I question whether the mess dinner of the rank and +file is anything like so savoury and palatable as the dinner to be had a +few years ago in Paris, at one Madame Roland’s, near the Marché des +Innocents. For twopence she gave you cabbage soup with a slice of +_bouilli_ (beef) in it, a large piece of excellent bread, and a glass of +wine, which it must be admitted, however, was rather thin. Some 600 +workmen used to throng daily round her table in a shed, and yet she +calculated that she gained a farthing by each guest. In Glasgow, +Manchester, and elsewhere, similar public dining places have been +established on the cheapest possible scale, and found to answer very +well; but although a workman may be able to get a fairly good and +nutritive dinner at such an institution, it is not the less necessary +that his wife should know how to cook his food decently for him at home. + + + LESSON IX. + BOILING AND STEWING. + +There is all the difference in the world between boiling meat which is +to be eaten, and meat whose juices are to be extracted in the form of +soup. If the meat is required as nourishment, of course you want the +juices kept in. To do this it is necessary to plunge it into boiling +water, which will cause the albumen in the meat to coagulate suddenly, +and act as a plug or stopper to all the tubes of the meat, so that the +nourishment will be tightly kept in. The temperature of the water should +be kept at boiling-point for five minutes, and then as much cold water +must be added as will reduce the temperature to 165°. If the whole be +kept at this temperature for some hours, you have all the conditions +united which give to the flesh the quality best adapted for its use as +food. The juices are kept in the meat, and instead of being called upon +to consume an insipid mass of indigestible fibres, we have a tender +piece of meat, from which, when cut, the imprisoned juices run freely. +If the meat be allowed to remain in the boiling water without the +addition of any cold to it, it becomes in a short time altogether +cooked, but it will be as hard as iron, and utterly indigestible, and +therefore unwholesome. + +If soup is to be made out of meat, then it stands to reason we want all +the juices which we can possibly extract from the meat to mix with the +water. Therefore the meat should be put into _cold_ water, with a little +salt and a few vegetables (if in a poor family a few crusts of bread may +be added at the last minute), and allowed to simmer as long as possible. +It is undoubtedly the most economical form of nourishment which exists, +and it is an absurd prejudice to suppose that the same amount of meat is +invariably more valuable to the human system if it be frizzled in a +greasy frying-pan, so that it becomes burnt outside but remains raw +within, and eaten in this state as “good solid food,” dear to the heart +(but surely not to the stomach) of a true Englishman. In the first +place, even a pound of meat will only feed one person in a solid form, +whereas, if to exactly the same weight of meat be added a pint of cold +water, a few vegetables, or even herbs, a couple of potatoes, a bone or +two, a scrap of bacon, an onion—almost anything which comes handy—we +have at once the _pot-au-feu_ of the French peasant, and produce a warm, +savoury, wholesome meal for two or three persons. It may be as well to +mention that the scum which rises on the top of the water whilst meat is +boiling is _always_ useless and unwholesome, and should be got rid of as +completely as possible. The way to help this scum to rise, so as to be +able to get rid of it, is to keep pouring in a little cold water from +time to time. This will always have the effect of sending up some of the +obnoxious substance to the top, from whence it should speedily be +removed. + +Stewing occupies a sort of middle position between roasting and boiling, +and must be carefully attended to, if the meat is not to be hardened +instead of softened by the process. It is desirable to dip meat into +boiling water for stewing as well as boiling, unless indeed it should +have been soaked before. What, for instance, makes hashed mutton a +byword of nastiness? Because an ignorant cook plunges her chunks of cold +meat into a greasy gravy when it is at boiling-point, thereby thoroughly +and hopelessly hardening the meat, and then serves up the mess with +large pieces of half-toasted bread. Now, is this way more extravagant? I +can answer for its being more palatable. Make a nice little gravy of any +cold stock—and a good cook will _always_ have a small basin or cup full +of stock by her—add an onion finely shredded and fried, a little pepper +and salt, and, if it is to be had, a teaspoonful of ketchup. Let the +mixture come to boiling-point, without boiling over, and strain it into +another saucepan. If you have only one saucepan, strain it into a basin, +quickly clean out your saucepan, and pour the gravy back into it, +setting it aside to let it get nearly quite cold. _Then_, and not until +then, lay in thinly-cut, small slices of the cold meat, and let the +gravy and the meat warm thoroughly and gradually together, _without_ +boiling, but don’t allow it to stew too long. Whilst it is getting +ready, have the frying-pan ready with a little boiling fat (not that +which fish has been fried in, remember), and put into it some small, +thin, three-cornered pieces of bread, which will quickly fry into a +crisp toast. Serve these round the hash, which, by the way, should not +be swamped in gravy, and I can answer that a certain cockney millionaire +friend of mine will no longer issue this solemn warning to his family: +“Never eat ’ashes away from ’ome.” + +But to return to stewing. If it be properly understood and practised, +stewed meat makes a very agreeable and palatable change from the +monotonous boiling and roasting which alternate on the middle-class +daily bill of fare. A shoulder of mutton stewed, Indian fashion, with a +handful of well-washed rice, a few Sultana raisins, half a dozen cloves, +and a teaspoonful of currie powder to flavour it, makes an agreeable +change. Some meats are far more wholesome also when stewed than when +roast; as veal, for instance, and many kinds of fish. Eels are +invariably more wholesome stewed than boiled—though _all_ fish is +wholesomer boiled than fried, for stewing is a more gradual process than +boiling, and the fat is more surely got rid of. If it should ever be +necessary to cook a beefsteak which has not yet had time to become +tender by keeping, then, for the sake of the digestion of the family, it +would be better to stew it, and this is the way it should be done. + +The meat should first be cut into convenient, but large-sized pieces +(all the fat having been removed) and lightly fried on both sides in +butter or clarified dripping. This will make it of a nice brown colour, +and prevent the pale flabby appearance it would otherwise present. Then +get a saucepan and put the meat into it, with a little sliced onion, +turnips and carrots (which are also improved by being half-fried first), +pepper and salt, and a teaspoonful of any sauce you prefer. If there is +any stock, add it, but if not, put in about half a pint of water, and +let it all simmer very gently for two or three hours. At the last moment +skim it well, for it is odious if it be greasy; stir in a few pinches of +flour to thicken the gravy, and let it all boil up together for a couple +of minutes before serving. Some people are very fond of fat with all +their food, though they should bear in mind that fat affords no +nourishment whatever to the human body. It merely goes to make fat. A +stout person should therefore not eat much fat, and a thin one should. +The function of fat, as we all know, is like starch or sugar, to keep up +the heat of the animal, and a certain proportion is even present in +healthy animal muscle; so it does not do to buy lean meat, although all +the fat on the joint need not be sent up to table. However, it is +necessary to serve a certain portion of fat with stewed steak, but do +not let it stew _with_ the meat, for it will only melt and rise to the +surface in the scum which has to be so carefully removed. Rather keep +the fat till the last moment, cut it into little pieces a couple of +inches long, and put it by itself in the frying-pan or on a gridiron for +a minute or two just to cook it, and serve it in golden brown nodules on +the top of the stewed meat. + +_All_ nice cooking—be its materials ever so simple—is more or less +troublesome; but I have always found (and the experience of others bears +out my own) that bad cooks will take quite as much trouble to spoil +food. It is therefore a great pity that when a woman is conscious of her +own deficiencies and is anxious and willing to improve by learning, she +should not have the opportunity of doing so. But unfortunately cooking +is not to be learned from a book, nor from a lecture. It is an art in +which practical experience, supplementing theoretical information, alone +can be of any use. It is doubtless a great advantage to intelligent +beginners to have the why and wherefore of everything explained to them +either by voice or page, but it is equally necessary for them to see +with their own eyes and try with their own hands the result of these +instructions, for half-an-hour’s practice is worth a week’s theorizing, +in cooking as well as in other things. + + + LESSON X. + BAKING, ROASTING, AND FRYING. + +The same principle which has been advocated in boiling holds good with +regard to roasting. If you wish to retain all the juices in the meat, +place it close to the fire for five minutes _at first_, and then remove +it to a greater distance until the last five minutes, when it should be +brought near the fire again. It is possible, by this method, to roast a +joint thoroughly, so that it shall be perfectly well cooked, and yet, +when carved, the imprisoned juices shall flow out readily. All meat +ought to be well floured and sprinkled with a pinch or two of salt +before putting it to the fire, and it should be kept constantly basted +with clear dripping. Some things, such as hare, are better basted with +milk; and poultry, or any very small joint, is much improved by being +covered with lard or oiled paper. Instead of larding game or poultry, it +is often preferable to _bard_ it, _i.e._ to cover the breast with a thin +slice of fat bacon, which may be served up with it as with quails. + +We must remember that the object in cooking is to present meat, and +indeed all food, to the palate in an agreeable form without changing its +composition more than we can help, or losing its nutritive value. Raw +meat, quite apart from other objections, is so tough that it would be +impossible to masticate or digest enough of it to satisfy hunger, +whereas the application of heat is intended to force the juices to +expand, thus separating the fibres and making mastication easy and +pleasant. + +The loss of weight in roasting, especially if the joint be a fat one, is +very considerable. As much as 4 lb. 4 oz. have been lost in roasting a +joint of 15 lbs. weight in the ordinary manner. Although meat actually +loses more of its weight by roasting than by boiling, yet, if no account +be taken of the matters extracted, it contains, when roasted, a larger +proportion of nutritive elements than the larger mass of boiled meat, +and in a given weight is more nutritious. Meat is often baked, and +though this method maybe harmless and agreeable as a change, it is not +such a wholesome form of cooking as roasting. + +The primitive manner of baking meat is the only one which ensures it +from becoming dry and tasteless, namely, to enclose it in a crust of +some sort. The gipsies to this day bake their meat and poultry—we will +not inquire how this latter item is added to the bill of fare—in a sort +of mud mould or case, covering up feathers and all; and the Indians and +Maoris generally cook in the same way. A fowl, or a piece of meat of any +sort, is delicious when enclosed in a flour-and-water case—dough, in +fact—and baked in the embers of a camp fire. If the meat were put in the +fire without this protection, it would simply get burnt. + +Frying is the simplest, the commonest, and, if properly done, the +wholesomest form of cooking food, but it is perhaps the least +understood, and more often results in burning the outside of the meat +whilst the inside is left raw. To begin with, a clear, smokeless fire is +indispensable for frying, and it is equally necessary to have a +perfectly clean frying-pan. Of course the best oil, or the best fresh +butter, would offer the most perfect conditions of the fat in which +anything should be fried; but good, pure, clear fat, and clarified +dripping, make capital substitutes. Cold meat is excellent when lightly +fried and served up with yesterday’s vegetables and potatoes (also cut +up and fried), but the excellence depends entirely on the delicate yet +savoury flavouring, the clearness of the fire, and the goodness of the +fat in which the frying process is carried on. It is also very important +that the fat should be actually boiling. Here again we are met by +prejudice, for ninety-nine cooks out of a hundred will allege that they +are “respectable women” when asked to use a frimometer or a thermometer, +and prefer to go on ascertaining the temperature of their fat by +guesswork or by means of a sprig of parsley. It is more economical to +roast the flesh of young animals, such as lamb, chicken, veal, or pork, +because such flesh contains an undue proportion of albumen and gelatine +in the tissues, and these substances will to a great extent be lost in +the boiling. + +If I had to cook a dish of cutlets and potatoes, or a tender rump-steak +and potatoes, this is the way I should do it, or, to speak quite +truthfully, those are the directions I should give for its being done. +First, I must say that whenever it is practicable to use a gridiron in +the place of a frying-pan, and to broil meat instead of frying, it +should be done. But, at the same time, I _have_ tasted such excellent +cutlets served out of a frying-pan, that it shows it is not an +invariable rule. It is the attention to small details which makes all +the difference in nice cooking, and if persons thoroughly understand the +value of these important trifles, they learn to do the thing always that +way, and so it becomes no more trouble to them than is the slatternly +method which results in grease and cinders, heartburn and disgust. Well, +then, let us imagine that we are rich enough to possess a frying-pan +_and_ a gridiron, and that our fire, however small, is clear and bright, +without a film of smoke, for it is of no use trying to fry or broil +unless the fire is in a proper condition. In spite of what has been said +in a former place about cooking potatoes in their skins, potatoes for +frying must needs be peeled, well washed, and cut rapidly up with a +sharp knife into thin slices. Again, they should be thrown into a basin +of water for a moment, and then laid on a clean cloth, slice by slice, +to be thoroughly dried. All this time the nice, clear fat should have +been melting on the fire, and when it is actually boiling throw in the +potatoes, keeping the frying-pan frequently moving so that they shall +not stick to its bottom. A couple or three minutes ought to crisp them +to a beautiful golden brown colour; then skim them swiftly out of the +boiling fat, throw them into a large, fine wire sieve (which would be +all the better for having been warmed to receive them), sprinkle a pinch +of salt over them, and turn them into a very hot dish, every particle of +fat having been left behind in the sieve. Although the potatoes have +been mentioned first, the meat should really have preceded them in the +order of cooking, as it is the easiest to keep hot. If you are going to +have cutlets, trim them from the best end of a neck of mutton very +neatly. There is no occasion to throw away the scraps; they should +either go into the stockpot, or, if strict economy be necessary, they +may afterwards be made into a pudding or pie. The chine-bone must be +sawn off, and the seven or eight chops (which are all you will be able +to get off a moderate-sized neck of mutton) neatly pared, and only about +an inch of bare bone left to each cutlet for a handle. The cutlets +should then be sprinkled with a little salt and pepper, and laid for a +moment in a dish of oil; then put them on the gridiron, or into the +frying-pan, but in this latter case add a little more oil, and broil or +fry them for six or seven minutes. They ought by that time to be nicely +done, and should be served hot. Beefsteak can be cooked exactly in the +same way, only from its larger size the gridiron is more strictly +indispensable. A frying-pan is a very serviceable implement in the hands +of a skilful manager. I trust she will make it a point of keeping it +scrupulously clean, and then she can serve up the cold vegetables left +from yesterday in this fashion at a moment’s notice. Melt a little fat +or butter in your frying-pan, shred an onion into it with a spoonful of +chopped parsley, a little salt and pepper, and a sprig of any savoury +herb or bit of lemon-peel which comes handy. Then cut up the +vegetables—cabbage, turnips, carrots, and so forth—into small pieces, +and fry the whole, lightly tossing the contents of your frying-pan all +the time, so that they may not get into a burnt fat-soaked mass. On a +sudden call for a late supper, such a dish as this forms a capital +addition to the cold meat or fried bacon and eggs. + +Of all the uses, however, to which a housewife turns her frying-pan, I +suppose an omelet is the least in demand, and yet it is at once the +cheapest and easiest way in the world to cook eggs with other things. +All it requires is vigilance and knack. Don’t _over_-beat your eggs, +just whisk them up (three are quite enough for a manageable omelet), +whites and all, lightly and swiftly, beat in with them a pinch of salt, +a little pepper, some finely-chopped parsley, or a teaspoonful of grated +cheese, or shredded bacon, or even shredded fish; almost anything mixes +well in an omelet, provided it is cut fine enough. Have the frying-pan +ready on the fire with butter enough in it to fairly cover its surface +when melted, which it should do without browning. Into this clear liquid +butter pour the contents of your basin (your eggs, &c.), holding the +frying-pan with the left hand, and gently stirring the mixture with a +wooden spoon in the other. The omelet will set almost immediately, and +then the stirring should be discontinued, and the gentle shaking carried +on _incessantly_: the edges being lightly turned up with the wooden +spoon every now and then. If you turn your head, or cease shaking for a +moment, the omelet will be spoiled. Four minutes should be quite enough +to cook the inside thoroughly, and yet leave the outside of a rich, +yellowish-brown colour, but the time required to attain this result will +entirely depend on the fire. Too fierce a fire will burn the omelet +before it has had time to set or become thoroughly cooked, and yet a +clear brisk fire is necessary. As soon as it begins to assume the shape +of a small plate and the colour of a golden pippin, take your wooden +spoon once more and dexterously double it over, serve it in an +exceedingly hot dish, and eat it whilst it is still sputtering and +frothing. The only things requisite in an omelet are, presence of mind +and promptness of action. Timidity and hesitation have ruined many an +omelet, and it is better to practise as often as may be necessary, +before serving up a failure. + +In fritters, the yolks of the eggs and the dissolved butter are beaten +into a batter, and the slices of fruit, previously dipped in +finely-powdered sugar, dropped into the mixture, to which, by the way, +the well-whisked whites of the eggs must be added at the last moment. +Then the slices of fruit, with the batter adhering to them, may be +placed in the buttered frying-pan for a moment or two just to get +lightly cooked, and the pan should be kept well shaken during the +process. + + + LESSON XI. + BACON. + +American bacon is considerably lower in price than English bacon, but it +shrinks more when boiled, and you can get a larger number of slices from +a given weight of English bacon than can be obtained from the other. +Pork is the great stand-by of the poor man’s dietary, by reason of its +strong flavour as well as its low price, and the relish it affords to +monotonous and insipid fare. The dripping from fried bacon is often +preferred by children to the rancid stuff sold as butter to the poor; +and in any case the fat from bacon is more palatable with cabbage or +potatoes than the suet of either beef or mutton could possibly be. It is +easier to carry when cold into the fields; and another great advantage +of bacon is that it requires less fire to cook it, and fewer utensils. +From a scientific point of view, a diet in which bacon is the principal +meat, needs to be largely supplemented by milk and other highly +nitrogenous food, for it contains very little nitrogen itself, and we +know that nitrogen is of great importance to the blood. Bacon supplies a +fair amount of carbon, and does not therefore require the aid of bread. +With the addition of a little pea-meal, the liquor in which bacon has +been boiled makes a good soup, and it would be improved both in flavour +and nutritive value by a few potatoes and an onion being boiled in it. + +But as a general rule, however valuable the pig may be in an economical +sense, it is quite certain that pork is less wholesome than almost any +other meat. For the reasons why this should be so, we must go in the +first place to the habits and ways of the animal itself, its absence of +any guiding instinct about food—for quantity, not quality, appears to be +the first principle of a pig’s diet—and the motionless life it leads. +Pigs which are turned out in a field run about too much to grow fat, and +therefore, if it be necessary to use the animal for food, it is speedily +relegated to its sty. There it never does anything except sleep and eat, +and this want of exercise tells not only on the inordinate growth of fat +which is laid up outside the body, but upon the muscles and fibres of +the flesh, which become hard and indigestible. The pig stores up in its +body three times more of its food than the ox, and from its large +proportion of fat is not of equal value with beef or mutton in +nourishing the system of those who need to make much muscular exertion. +The leg of pork is the part of the body which, if deprived of its large +proportion of fat, approaches the most nearly to the nourishing elements +of beef or mutton. However, I do not for a moment expect that any +scientific theories for or against pork will have any ill effect on the +keeping of pigs or the curing of bacon. Happy is the family which can +keep a pig; therefore, what does it matter whether it be a “highly +nitrogenous food” or not? Piggy pays the rent, and furnishes the +“childer” with many a savoury bite besides. In fact, if any food can, in +these high-priced days, be called economic, bacon deserves the name, for +it goes further than any other meat. My remarks, therefore, must be +taken to apply only to those who have a choice, and who therefore should +use it more as a relish than as the principal ingredient in the family +bill of fare. + + + LESSON XII. + THE GIST OF THE WHOLE MATTER. + +Now let us sum up what we have been trying to teach and to learn in this +little book. To begin with, we will run through the first part, which is +perhaps rather alarming on account of its hard words, and see what has +been said. + +No one will deny the importance of urging rich and poor alike, in the +present state of things, to try and economize the fuel and food which +they may have at their disposal. When I use the word economize, and +apply it to rich people, I mean it to bear a wider significance than +when I speak of the very poor, with whom it is an absolute necessity. It +is just because there is not this absolute necessity on the score of +expenditure, that a due attention to the principles of economy in food +and fuel sits so gracefully on a rich person. I do not mean that only +two fires should be lighted in a splendid mansion, or that its inmates +should gather every day around a dinner of bonesoup or a lunch of bread +and cheese. That would of course be absurd nonsense, and no one is so +short-sighted as not to perceive that such economy would starve a good +many thousand people in other grades of life. What I mean is, that in +all households, beginning with those costly establishments where the +duty devolves on a steward or housekeeper, there should be such +arrangements, such training, such recognized principles, that the +possibility of _waste_ should be reduced to the lowest point. Everyone +will acknowledge that in what are called “great kitchens,” the +“waste,”—the broken victuals, scraps, crusts, bones, and so forth—would +feed many a poor and hungry family. All I say, then, is: “Let it feed +such families: don’t let it be thrown away, or sold as refuse.” When we +have made the most of everything, there will still be quite enough +refuse in the world, without adding to it portions of food which would +be a boon and a blessing to a starving child. The same with fuel. Let +people who can afford to pay for coals have as many fires as they +choose, but let them take care that the coals are fairly used and made +the most of, cinders and all, so will there be more left in the market +for those to whom a hundredweight of coal is of more importance than is +a ton to a rich man. Let such people have grates and stoves, and all the +new inventions for the economy of fuel, and then, if everybody makes a +conscience of being careful with their coals—economical without being +stingy, but insisting on every cinder being duly used, or even given +away, instead of finding its way into the dusthole—we shall not perhaps +have constant alarms of scarcity and famine prices. + +So much can rich people do to help; but those in the lower grades of +society can do a great deal more; and I am persuaded that the chief +reason a great deal more is not done is because people don’t know how to +do it. The mistress of a middle-class household considers that she +fulfils the whole duties of her position by giving a few languid orders +to her servants, which they obey or not, according to their several +dispositions. By all means let her confine herself to this feeble style +of housekeeping until she knows _how_ the things should be done, for +until then it is better she should not interfere. If everything was +exactly as it should be, if cooks knew not only how to lay and light +fires, but to cook exquisitely, it would be very delightful, and we +might all live happy ever after. But, unfortunately, we seem to be a +long way from such a desirable state of things; and complaints of the +bad, and an outcry for good, servants grow louder every year. Now, it +appears to me that good mistresses are just as much needed as good +servants, mistresses who are capable of explaining kindly and clearly to +a servant how and why their duties—or such portion of their duties as +they are ignorant of—should be performed. Explanation is a good deal +better than scolding, and the practical knowledge from which such +explanations should spring is quite compatible with the utmost +refinement and cultivation of the mind. I don’t want ladies to do the +servants’ work; I only want them to have the opportunity of learning to +explain how such work should be performed, and to understand, even in +theory, why and wherefore certain causes bring about certain results in +domestic economy. + +Let us take the mistress of an ordinary middle-class household, a +household where the husband works hard to make an income of from 500_l._ +to 1,000_l._ a year, on which four or five children have to be educated +and set forth in the world, and perhaps relations to be helped besides +(for poor people generally have to help their relations). Ten years ago +it would have been, for that rank of life, almost a large income. +Nowadays it is a very small one, and it has therefore become more than +ever of grave importance that the person on whom its management chiefly +depends should know something besides music and drawing. Well, then, +this typical lady shall be amiable, intelligent, anxious to do her best +for her family and household, and yet what state of things shall we be +tolerably sure to find in such a house? In the nursery, “Missis” is all +that is capable and useful. She thoroughly understands how to provide +for the health and pretty toilettes of her nice little children. She and +Nurse get on very well; they have a mutual respect and confidence in +each other’s “knowledgeableness,” and a thorough belief in each other’s +capacity. All is right at the top of the house. On the next story the +lady is not quite so certain of her ground. She has indeed slender +theories on the subject of dust, and, we will hope, a wholesome love of +fresh air, but a new housemaid will probably find that she can do pretty +much as she likes in her own department. + +But it is not till we come down to the kitchen that we begin to suspect +there is a screw loose somewhere. _If_ our lady has been fortunate +enough to stumble upon a cook who for 14_l._ or 16_l._ a year will cook +savoury meals for her every day of her life; a cook who is as clean as +she is clever, and as honest as she is sober, then indeed there will be +peace and harmony in that establishment, unless the cook should happen +to have a bad temper. But how is it if the cook be merely an ignorant, +honest, “willing” young woman? Who is to teach her? How and where is she +to be trained? That has hitherto been the great difficulty of English +middle-class life, and it is to remove, or at all events to give those +who wish it an opportunity of removing it, that the National School of +Cookery is to be established at South Kensington. Everything cannot be +done in a moment; unsuspected needs will crop up, an extended sphere +will necessitate wider arrangements; but I can safely affirm that the +point which will be steadily kept in view by the Committee is this great +need of the English people—the want of some place where a girl or woman +can be taught how to cook. It is not necessary for ladies to bend over +the fire and harden their palms with saucepan handles, for it is easier +to teach an educated person by theory than an uneducated one; and a lady +will carry away a great deal of useful knowledge from a lecture where a +cook-maid would have been swamped by words and phrases above her +capacity. There will therefore be both forms of education; but, so far +as my own experience goes, and speaking confidentially, I should have +been very thankful for both opportunities of practical instruction +before I went to New Zealand. I might then perhaps have been saved many +an anxious moment, to say nothing of constant culinary discomfiture. I +_did_ go down to a friend’s kitchen more than once, and try what +knowledge I could pick up, but I was so bewildered by the size and +splendour of the _batterie-de-cuisine_, and the cook would persist in +regarding my desire for information as either a whim or a joke on my +part, so that it ended by my learning nothing whatever which proved of +any practical use to me. To begin with, I could not explain to the cook +what I wanted to know; I could not even say where my ignorance began or +where it ended, though indeed I found out afterwards that it would have +been well to have established some infallible test for ascertaining when +the kettle boiled. What experiments even in this line were necessary +when I set up for myself! including one recipe of turning the kitchen +poker into a sort of tuning-fork, and holding the handle to my ear, +whilst the poker-point rested on the lid of the kettle. That method soon +fell into disfavour, for it used generally to result in upsetting the +whole affair and extinguishing the kitchen fire. + +Well, then, to return to the purpose of this slender volume. If it even +awakens a sense of ignorance in its readers, something will have been +gained, for I am much mistaken in my knowledge of women of my own class +and position in life, as well as of those in a higher rank, if, when +once they feel the need of practical instruction and improvement in +their domestic arrangements, the next step will not be to endeavour to +acquire that knowledge. Also, I hope and believe that the artisan’s +young wife, who feels the commissariat and cooking a heavy burthen on +her mind and her hands, will set to work to learn how and why certain +food-substances are more wholesome and therefore more economical than +others, and in what fashion they should be cooked so as to make them go +further and render them palatable. + +Lower than this grade in our social scale it seems hard to go. It is too +much to expect the crowds whose daily bread is a perpetual miracle, to +have the time and the means to learn to cook better. When it is +generally a matter of chance and locality what sort of food they can +provide for themselves and their children, it seems a bitter mockery to +tell them this, that, and the other is the most nourishing diet, or to +recommend rump-steaks to them instead of bread and dripping. But here, +those rich and benevolent people, whose comforts and luxuries have been +and will be secured to themselves and their families for many a day, may +possibly find another outlet for that spring of human sympathy and +charity which—whatever pessimists may say to the contrary—runs bright +and sparkling beneath our natures, and wells up to make many a green and +blessed spot in our own lives and those of others. + +Let us look for a moment at our country villages, and think how often it +happens that the Squire’s and the Rector’s wife is asked to take some +well-behaved cottage-girl and “learn” her to cook. + +With the best will in world, what can these kind ladies do? With a sigh +they will consent, and return home to announce—probably with some +trepidation—to their cook, that “a new girl” is coming. This means a +year of misery and discomfort to everybody. The cook does not care about +teaching the girl, and will most likely take but slender pains to do so. +The girl feels that she is only on sufferance in the kitchen, and is in +a false position there, besides. It will probably be very difficult, if +not impossible, for her to get anything like a regular useful lesson +from her aggrieved instructress. Everything that is broken in the +kitchen is laid to her charge, and at the end of the year I question +whether, even under the most favourable circumstances, such a girl can +possibly have learned anything which will be of real practical value to +her. As soon as ever she begins to have a dawning idea on the subject of +a muttonchop, she must go elsewhere and make room for another beginner. +Now, the same money which would keep this girl for a year, would give +her proper instruction in a proper place. + +How constantly it happens that a young woman who is happily placed as +housemaid or nursemaid, or apprenticed to a trade, loses her mother, and +it becomes absolutely necessary that she should give up her situation +and return home to fill, as best she may, her mother’s vacant place. +Such a girl has probably never cooked a meal for herself in her life. +She may return home with an earnest and affectionate desire to do her +best for her father’s and brothers’ comfort, but can she know by +inspiration how to cook their meals? Even in my own limited experience I +have repeatedly heard laments on this score, and felt myself at the same +time quite powerless to help beyond the vague suggestion that the +beginner should ask Mrs. So-and-so to show her a little how to cook; +Mrs. So-and-so knowing probably very little herself. + +Many hundreds and thousands of people in London and our other cities and +watering-places live, at all events for a certain portion of the year, +in lodgings, or, as they are more elegantly styled, furnished +apartments. Imagine a monster meeting of lodgers in the Albert Hall, +assembled to proclaim their greatest grievance. Would there not be one +universal roar of “The food”? + +I have occasionally lived in lodgings myself, and I can speak from my +own experience, feeling confident that it will represent the experience +of a considerable portion of the houseless community. I found invariably +civility, generally cleanliness (or at all events that is a remediable +evil), and, with scarcely any exception, _vile food_. When I complained, +the stereotyped answer, given in a very hopeless tone, used to be: +“Well, ma’am, I know it’s not exactly right, but it’s the gal; you see, +she don’t know nothing, and I can’t cook myself, not to say well.” Now, +why can’t the “gal” cook, poor soul? Has she ever been taught, or had +even a chance of learning? Do we put ever so willing a man to fire an +Armstrong gun or set up type without the slightest previous instruction +on the subject? Why should a “gal” be taken from her school life (this +is imagining the most favourable conditions), and suddenly be expected +to know how to cook, especially when her teacher is confessedly as +ignorant as herself? The only bright exception to this rule is when a +girl has had the rare good fortune to be trained in some charitable +institution, where she has been properly taught to _cook_ as well as to +scrub and clean, and to keep herself neat and tidy, even whilst she is +working. Yet, as I write the words “rare good fortune,” a remorseful +pang comes over me; for, however such training may benefit the poor +child and her employers in after years, it has probably been necessary, +in order for her to be admitted into such an institution, that she +should have been a waif or stray, an orphan, or a poor deserted child, +or exceptionally wretched in some way, and it is from her very +homelessness and helplessness that what I find myself calling her “rare +good fortune” has sprung. + +I have already alluded in another place (page 36) to the case of the +domestic servant who has been a housemaid or a nursemaid, or waited on +ladies, and who perhaps marries and finds herself in a nice little home +which it becomes her duty to keep bright and clean. She can do +everything except cook, but I venture to say she will find this a great +difficulty, and there will be a good deal of unconscious waste and +extravagance before even the Rubicon of fried bacon is passed. + +It would be a good opportunity for this class of servants to learn +cooking at the National School when families go out of town for the +autumn, and two or three servants are left in an empty house to while +away a couple of months as best they can. I do not want to curtail or +interfere with any one’s holiday, but it could scarcely be a grievance +to a young woman who is perhaps looking forward to a little home of her +own some not very distant day, to have the opportunity of taking lessons +in the art of cooking her husband’s meals. Many of our subscribers may +be fortunate enough to possess cooks who are masters or mistresses of +their science, and to whom the word instruction dare not be mentioned. +What I would venture to suggest to such people is, that although they +may not need instruction for their cooks, they might utilize the +advantages which their subscriptions will give them, for the benefit of +their younger servants or even of their tenants’ daughters. + +The great point which I have reason to believe the Committee of the +National School of Cookery will insist upon is, _thoroughness_. No one +will be allowed to run, or try to run, before she can walk. The +elementary knowledge of how to light and manage a kitchen fire, of +scrupulous cleanliness in pots and pans, of attention to a thousand +small but all-important details, will be taught and insisted upon before +the learner is allowed to do anything worthy of the name of cooking. She +will then probably be surprised to find how comparatively easy it will +be to acquire the art, and she may be very sure she will not be allowed +to try a second thing until she can do the first, if it be only boiling +a kettle or toasting a piece of bread to perfection. + +Such is the plan for complete beginners—who, by the way, generally prove +the most successful pupils;—but for servants or artisans’ wives who wish +to “better” themselves in their kitchens, there will be a different mode +of instruction, into which we need not enter here. Ladies will also have +an opportunity either of sitting in a chair and listening to a lecture +or series of lectures on cooking, beginning with a muttonchop and ending +with a _soufflé_, or they may turn back their sleeves, take off their +rings and bracelets, and try for themselves. It will be hard if any +eager inquirer does not find some course or class to meet her needs; and +it is to be hoped that whatever excuse may hereafter be urged for our +national bad cookery, the reproach of the want of a place and +opportunity of instruction will be done away with for ever. + +There is but one parting remark I have to make. It is this. The National +School of Cookery is not a mercantile undertaking. I have no wish to +attempt to throw discredit upon such undertakings, but simply to state +the School of Cookery at South Kensington is not one. There will be no +question of dividends or bonuses, nor will there be shareholders whose +interests and pockets must be considered. The School has every reason to +expect that it will be liberally supported by contributions and +donations; if it finds itself mistaken in that expectation, it will +close its doors, and there will be no harm done to anybody. It is +managed by a Committee of gentlemen whose names are a sufficient +guarantee for their actions, and no one of them will be individually a +penny the richer or the poorer, whether the undertaking succeeds or not. +If the School be well and liberally supported, it will be a sign that +the need of improvement in cooking is felt by all classes, and for every +shilling subscribed it is the intention of the Committee to afford means +of instruction. The more money which is forthcoming, the more +widely-spread will be the benefit which the promoters of the National +School of Cookery hope and believe it is capable of producing. + + + THE END. + + + LONDON: RICHARD CLAY & SONS, PRINTERS. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75832 *** |