Alexis Soyer

Inspection of stores—Methods pursued—Interview with Lord W. Paulet—Scene in a kitchen—Terrible confusion—Only one plate—Underdone and overdone—Receipt for nourishing fare—Mr. Milton—Cordial reception—Plans for a better system—Dr. Taylor—Conversation upon cookery—Importance of culinary science in the medical department—A pleasant night—Value of a greatcoat—Operations commenced—Question of copper vessels—Curious method of marking the lots—A decent trick—Wilful waste—Experiments upon the extra diets—My first-class interpreter.

AT half-past six the next morning I was in the kitchen. The soldiers were at that hour making the coffee and tea for breakfast. I went with the serjeant on duty to inspect the quality of the meat, the quantity allowed, and the place of distribution. I found the meat of a very inferior quality, the method of distribution too complicated. When the weight of the quantity allowed was explained to me I found it correct. I was at first much puzzled at finding that some patients upon full diet received three quarters of a pound, some half a pound, and some a quarter of a pound of meat, accordingly as they were placed upon full, half, or quarter diet allowance—a system unavoidable in a hospital, but which would deceive the best cook. On some days, in providing for a hundred patients, this would make a difference of from ten to twenty pounds of meat, according to the number of half or quarter diets. Yet the same quantity of soup would nevertheless be required.

I made a note of this, and next perceived that every mess took their meat separately. Some messes numbered fifteen, twenty, or even thirty. The meat was spitted upon a rough piece of wood about two feet long, and then tied as tight as possible with a strong cord. Although this was a very bad method, I did not choose to interfere, as it was important for me to show them the evil effects of their system, and ensure a reform by pointing out a better. We then went to the store-rooms, and looked over what the contractor called the mixed vegetables, though they were principally of one kind, and half of these unfit for use. After having seen the rations weighed, I sent orders to the cooks not to commence operations until I arrived. We examined all kinds of preserved meats, soups, sweetmeats, &c. I next went to see the poultry, which I found of very inferior quality, consisting principally of old fowls, badly plucked and drawn. The gizzards, heads, and feet, which make such good broth, were thrown away. Mr. Bailey, whom I had not yet seen, then entered. When I had explained what we had already done, and the plan it would be most advisable to adopt for the future, he promised to bring the contractor, that we might talk the matter over. I examined the bread, which was very good indeed.

Mr. Bailey accompanied me to the various kitchens, where I had ordered the men to proceed as usual, and the same in the extra diet kitchen. During our progress I had the pleasure of meeting and being introduced to most of the medical gentlemen as they were visiting the patients in the corridors and wards. Having been informed that Mr. Milton, the purveyor in chief, had arrived, I called at his office, but unfortunately he had just gone to some storeroom—no one could tell which. I left my compliments, and a message to say that I should call again. I went to see Dr. Cumming, and report progress, and engaged to let him taste some of my cooking the following day. My next visit was to Lord W. Paulet, whom I found surrounded by military gentlemen of all ranks. He called me in, and, in a most good-natured manner, introduced me to his visitors, saying, “Now M. Soyer is come, I fear he will feed the sick soldiers so well, that they will be sorry to recover and leave the hospital.”

“Should such prove to be the case, it will be the best of all bad complaints.”

Some of the company inquired whether I was going to the Crimea.

“I must first make my dÉbut here,” was my reply, “and then we shall see.”

“Monsieur Soyer, what can I do for you?”

“Your lordship can do what I require in two minutes. Will you be kind enough to send me a carpenter or two, and a bricklayer, to do some little matters I wish to have attended to?”

“Certainly; I will drop a line to Captain Gordon, the chief engineer, to that effect. His office is over the way—you had better go and see him.”

“Captain Gordon,” said a soldier, who brought some letters, “is gone to Pera.”

“I am happy to be able to inform your lordship that I am progressing very fast, and that every one is very obliging to me.”

“I am glad to hear that, Monsieur Soyer.”

“I suppose you could not spare time about one o’clock, to go round and see the meals served out?”

“I will try; but I fear I shall hardly have leisure. See what I have to do,” he continued, pointing to a pile of letters which the soldier had just brought in; “as Doctor Macgregor is going round with you, he will give me an account of everything.”

It was then noon, and about dinner-time. So I returned to the kitchen, where all was in the greatest confusion. Such a noise I never heard before. They were waiting for their soup and meat, and using coarse language, without making the least progress in the distribution. The market at old Billingsgate, during the first morning sale, was nothing compared to this military row. Each man had two tin cans for the soup. They kept running about and knocking against each other, in most admirable disorder. Such confusion, thought I, is enough to kill a dozen patients daily. As a natural consequence, several must go without anything; as, owing to the confusion, some of the orderly waiters get more and others less than their allowance. Any attempt to alter this at the time, would have been as wise as endeavouring to stop the current of the Bosphorus. As I did not wish to lose the chance of seeing the rations served out in the wards, I went for Dr. Macgregor, and we called for Mr. Milton—but the latter had not returned. I then fetched Miss Nightingale, and we went through the wards. The process of serving out the rations, though not quite such a noisy scene as that I had before witnessed, was far from being perfect. In the first place, the patients were allowed to eat the meat before the soup. As I was confident that this could not be by the doctor’s order, I asked the reason. The reply was, “we have only one plate.” (What they called a plate, was a round and deep tin dish, which held a pound of meat and a pint of soup.) I therefore recommended them to cut the meat as usual into small pieces, and pour the pint of boiling soup over it. This method had the advantage of keeping the meat hot.

“It will enable the patients,” I said, “to eat both the soup and meat warm, instead of cold—the daily practice, in consequence of the slow process of carving.”

“Very true,” said Dr. Macgregor. “Nay, more, the soup will comfort and dispose the stomach for the better digestion of the meat and potatoes. When the men are very hungry, they will often swallow their food without properly masticating it, and the meat is also probably tough.”

We then tasted both the soup and meat. The former was thin and without seasoning; the latter, mutton, tough and tasteless. The potatoes were watery. All these defects I promised to rectify the next day. We proceeded to a ward where they complained bitterly that the meat was never done; in fact, it was quite raw, and then of course the cook was blamed.

“Now,” said I to Miss Nightingale, “I will wager anything that we shall find some parts very well done, and some, no doubt, too much done, though it is all cooked in the same caldron.”

“How do you account for that, Monsieur Soyer? is it owing to the bad quality of the meat?”

“Not at all; that may come from the same sheep, and yet vary.”

At another mess, the meat was well done; a small piece at the end only being over-cooked.

“I will explain this to you, madam,” said I. “I remarked this morning that the man tied all the joints together very tight, after having put them upon a ‘skewer,’ as he calls it, almost as large as a wooden leg. The consequence is, that when the meat is thrown into boiling water, it is not properly done; the meat swells, and it is impossible for the heat or the water even to get at it.”

“Ah, I noticed that several of the men did exactly as you say this morning,” said Miss Nightingale. “The parts which are well done were placed loose upon the stick; and this explains the mystery—but I shall alter that to-morrow.”

Having afterwards inspected several extra-diet kitchens, and tasted various things, I perceived what I could accomplish, both as regarded convalescents and extra diets. Miss Nightingale having again offered to render any assistance in her power, left us; as she had a great deal to attend to. I retraced my steps to Dr. Cumming’s, and stated my opinion of the present system of cooking; and explained what I proposed doing, of all of which he approved highly. I then returned to the kitchen, and sent a requisition for six rations of everything allowed for making the soup. I proceeded thus:—

To eight pints of water I put four pounds of meat, a quarter of a pound of barley, a little salt and pepper, and the allowance of vegetables, and in about an hour I produced a very good soup—some of which I sent to several doctors. They tasted and praised it highly, as being very nourishing and palatable. I then carried some to Dr. Cumming, who approved of its composition; but expressed his opinion that it would probably be too expensive. I then informed him I had made it with the ration allowance, taking the meat at half-diet scale. He was much pleased with the meat, which he pronounced highly palatable, and thought that the seasoning should be put in with the other ingredients. I explained that I could still improve it by the simple addition of a small quantity of sugar and flour.

“The purveyor will not, I am certain, refuse that,” said he.

“Oh, I am aware of that; but I wish to manage it without increasing the expense. I must accomplish that, if possible.” Miss Nightingale and Dr. Macgregor, to both of whom I sent some, praised it even more than the others had done, particularly the meat, which they stated to be of a very excellent flavour, and they had the opportunity of tasting the former. Mr. Milton came in, and though I had not had the pleasure of seeing that gentleman, from the description I had heard of him, and his pleasing manner, I knew I was not mistaken in saying—“Mr. Milton, allow me to have the honour of tendering my best compliments and thanks for your prompt visit.”

“No person could be more welcome here than you are, Monsieur Soyer. I only regret I was not in my office when you called. I should have been happy to have accompanied you round the wards. Your very just remarks have been repeated to me and the plan you mean to adopt explained, but I fear you will meet with so many difficulties that you will get tired before you have achieved much good.”

“Not at all,” I replied; “you will see a great change by to-morrow, which must be attributed chiefly to the politeness and cordial assistance I have met with from the members of every department—especially your own—which to me is the most important.”

“I have given orders that everything you may require is to be placed at your disposal, if in store; and any alteration or suggestion which is likely to be beneficial will be immediately attended to. You have only to ask for anything you need in the way of cooking utensils, and it shall, if possible, be procured.”

“My great object and delight will be to effect a change with the daily allowance.”

“That would certainly be as well; but I fancy it cannot be done. The provisions here are of a quality very inferior to what we get in London.”

“You are quite right, if they are all like those I saw this morning. Favour me by tasting these two soups. Julien! please to give Mr. Milton two small basins of soup—one of mine, and one of that made at the hospital.” On tasting mine first he pronounced it very good and palatable, and of an excellent flavour. The other, although made with exactly the same materials, he could hardly swallow. It had no seasoning, had a blackish appearance, and was quite tasteless.

“There is no comparison,” said Mr. Milton.

“All the soup will in future be like the sample I have made, and I can greatly improve it by the addition of a few pounds of brown sugar and a little flour extra.”

“Monsieur Soyer, I beg you will not regard such trivial expenses, at any rate for the present; what is required you shall have.”

“I see the fresh vegetables are very bad—as you have a quantity of preserved ones, I shall mix them.”

“In future we must try and get better meat, poultry, and eggs; and, above all, charcoal. I am aware you have justly complained of them. Have you seen our bread?”

“Yes, I have, and very good it is too.”

“That is really all we can manage to my satisfaction. As regards the meat and poultry, I will send you the contractor; but the charcoal is in the commissariat department. I shall write an official letter respecting it. I see,” he continued, looking at some, “it is all dust, and seems quite wet.”

“Pray send off a letter; and if you will give me the name of the gentleman who is at the head of that department, I shall be happy to make his acquaintance; and beg of him not to allow any delay, as I consider this the most important matter of all.”

I repeated the reason for saying this which I have before mentioned.

After listening attentively to my remarks, Mr. Milton said:—

“You may well call it the most important, and the sooner it is altered the better.”

We parted. I then told the soldier cooks to have the boilers thoroughly cleaned, and everything in from the stores by eight o’clock the next morning, as I intended making the soup myself. I left Julien, my head man, with them to superintend matters.

Having called upon Doctor Taylor, I had a long conversation with him upon cookery. In the course of this he said,—

“On finding that the cooking was so badly done, I took upon myself, not only to superintend the men, but also to cook and teach them; and I must say I found them very willing. How could I expect them to know anything about it? they had never been taught to do it.”

“True, Doctor; and, as soon as they begin to know a little about it, they are recalled to their regiments, and replaced by new-comers as ignorant as they were themselves at first.”

“Exactly; and I tell you what, Monsieur Soyer, though we may be very good doctors, and possess a thorough knowledge of medical science, we still need the aid of culinary science; for the one without the other will produce but very unsatisfactory results. Since I have turned my attention to it, I am more and more fortified in the opinion which I have expressed before several medical boards, that a doctor, to be well qualified, should have some knowledge of the art of cookery, and this he ought to acquire in the first stage of his medical education.”

“Indeed, Doctor, it is not with the view of elevating my profession, to which I have now devoted my attention for more than twenty-seven years, that I say I am persuaded that this science has been too lightly treated. In corroboration of your just remark, I have, as you will find, already stated in my various works upon cookery, that to make a good cook it is of paramount importance that a man should possess some chemical as well as medical knowledge.”

“I agree with you, Monsieur Soyer,” said he.

“As soon as my kitchen is ready, Doctor, I hope you will favour me with a visit.”

“With much pleasure. Let me know when it is finished.”

To my great regret, I was obliged to see about returning to Pera, some delay having taken place in the completion of my house. On reaching the landing-place not a caique was to be had, the weather was so bad they could not cross. A friend offered me shelter for that night at a small restaurant kept by a Greek called Demetri. There were seventeen of us lying on straw sofas, with the privilege of covering ourselves with our great coats, if fortunate enough to possess one. Rooms were at a premium in Scutari. It was also necessary for anybody who wished to have the benefit of his great-coat to keep awake all night; for no sooner did you begin to doze than some of your sleeping partners, who happened to be wide awake, endeavoured to appropriate the coveted garment to their use; and the weather being very chilly, this proved anything but pleasant. Unfortunately, after passing an uncomfortable night, I did not feel much refreshed, and was almost unfit to undertake the difficult task I had before me. However, I was up at six, and in the kitchen by seven. None of my orders had been attended to. My own people were not there as they ought to have been; and the men told me they could not get the rations till ten o’clock, that being the usual time for issuing them.

“Really,” said I; “and pray who told you so?”

“The serjeant and some of the orderlies,” was the reply.

“We shall see all about that; come with me.”

The truth is, I did find it very difficult to get anything; but, in less than half-an-hour after I had been to the purveyor’s head-quarters my new regiment began to manoeuvre admirably under my command. By eight o’clock everything was ready for the cooking, except my cooks, who had been sleeping in a store-room upon some straw, and had a regular fray with the allied rats. These animals, it appears, had come to welcome them to Scutari.

Upon inspecting the boilers, my first fear was realized—there was nothing but copper—all the tinning had worn away. And very difficult was it to ascertain this fact, these immense and deep caldrons being securely screwed to the marble basement, and extremely difficult, not only to remove, but also to tin when removed. I consider it most advisable that all large establishments should have their cooking apparatus made of malleable iron, which is extremely clean, is much cheaper, and does not require tinning: the lid may be made of copper for appearance’ sake, but not so the boiler. The kitchen battery of the wealthy alone should be copper, as they can afford to employ professional persons for the preparation of their diet, who never would attempt using them when coppery. (For my important visit to the Consumptive Hospital at Brompton, see Addenda.)

That day I was obliged to use them. Having put the proper quantity of water into each copper, with the meat, barley, vegetables, and salt and pepper, we lighted the fires; and after allowing the ingredients to simmer for two hours and a half, an excellent soup was made; I only adding a little sugar and flour to finish it.

The receipt for this excellent soup, so highly approved of and immediately adopted by the medical men, will be found in my Hospital Diets, with a scale of proportions from ten to a hundred.

The meat was so poor that there was no fat to skim off the soup. It was therefore served out at once, as described in the receipt. Several doctors went round with me, and asked the men how they liked it. They were all highly delighted with it, and praised it very much. I also took care that the rations of meat should not be tied together on the skewer.

The orderlies were now ordered not to tie their rations of meat so tight. Upon inspection I found that they had a most curious method of marking their different lots. Some used a piece of red cloth cut from an old jacket; others half a dozen old buttons tied together; old knives, forks, scissors, &c., but one in particular had hit upon an idea which could not fail to meet with our entire approval. The discovery of this brilliant idea was greeted with shouts of laughter from Miss Nightingale, the doctors, and myself. It consisted in tying a pair of old snuffers to the lot.

All this rubbish was daily boiled with the meat, but probably required more cooking. On telling the man with the snuffers that it was a very dirty trick to put such things in the soup, the reply was—“How can it be dirty, sir? sure they have been boiling this last month.”

When all the dinners had been served out, I perceived a large copper half full of rich broth with about three inches of fat upon it. I inquired what they did with this?

“Throw it away, sir.”

“Throw it away?” we all exclaimed.

“Yes, sir; it’s the water in which the fresh beef has been cooked.”

“Do you call that water? I call it strong broth. Why don’t you make soup of it?”

“We orderlies don’t like soup, sir.”

“Then you really do throw it away?”

“Yes, sir; it is good for nothing.”

I took a ladle and removed a large basinful of beautiful fat, which, when cold, was better for cooking purposes than the rank butter procured from Constantinople at from ten to fifteen piastres per pound. The next day I showed the men how to make a most delicious soup with what they had before so foolishly thrown away. This method they were henceforward very glad to adopt. Not less than seventy pounds of beef had been daily boiled in this manner, and without salt. It would hardly be credited, but for its truth I can appeal to Miss Nightingale and others who were present.

Nothing was needed but a sharp look-out after the cooks in order to ensure complete success. The day after I had the coppers tinned. The next thing was to have a charcoal stove built, an oven, a store-room, and a larder partitioned off; and a kitchen dresser and chopping-block made. Through the kindness of the Chief Engineer, Captain Gordon, these things were accomplished in a few days, and at a trifling expense. If not a very magnificent, it was, as will be seen, a very spacious and handy kitchen.

In a few days I made experiments in small quantities upon all the various extra diets, such as chicken, mutton, and veal broth, the cooking of fowls, beef and mutton tea, &c. I did not forget the beverages, such as rice water, lemonades, arrow-root, panada ditto, barley water, sago jelly, &c.; rice pudding, sago, bread, vermicelli and macaroni ditto. The receipts will be found in the Addenda, under the head of “Hospital Diets.”

A gentleman, Mr. Black, who was a first-class interpreter, was then introduced to me by the Purveyor-in-Chief, and appointed to assist me in any way I might require his aid. He was highly recommended by Miss Nightingale, and a number of first-class doctors, as well as by Lord William Paulet. It is with gratitude that I acknowledge the great assistance I received from that gentleman during his stay with me, and the energy he displayed in procuring everything I required. He spoke French fluently, also the Turkish, Greek, and Armenian languages. This rendered him invaluable to me, as I was obliged to employ people speaking those different languages in my numerous kitchens. And what was more remarkable still, he was the husband of the celebrated Maid of Athens, whose company I had the pleasure of enjoying several times; and although this interesting personage is now in her tenth lustre, some remains of the eulogy of the great Byron seem still engraved on the physiognomy of the once celebrated Greek beauty; and she informed me that when Lord Byron wrote his poem on her, she was but ten years of age, he at the time residing opposite the house of her parents at Athens.