YOU are all aware, honorable readers, of the continual tribulation in carving at table, for appetites more or less colossal, and when all eyes are fixed upon you with anxious avidity. Very few persons are perfect in this useful art, which requires not only grace, but a great deal of skill. Others become very nervous; many complain of the knife, which has not the least objection to be found fault with; or else they say, this capon, pheasant, or poularde is not young, and consequently not of the best quality. You may sometimes be right, but it certainly often happens that the greatest gourmet is the worst carver, and complains sadly during that very long process, saying to himself, “I am last to be served; my dinner will be cold.”

Reproaches of this kind are daily addressed to the culinary artiste, who remembers perfectly well having burned his fingers whilst sending up those important removes. To illustrate this just question I will relate a curious and historic anecdote:—having one day served a petit diner, trÈs recherchÉ, for five persons, in which was a poularde À l’ambassadrice, a new and rather voluminous dish of mine, after the first course a message was sent to me that the gentlemen had found that dish so good they regretted I had not sent two poulardes instead of one; at first I took this message for a pleasantry, but a short time after three parts of the poularde came down in a state that if exposed over a laundry door would have served for a sign, without having recourse to those popular words, “mangling done here;” the sight of a dish so greatly disfigured made me collect a few of my little culinary ideas. Nature, says I to myself, compels us to dine more or less once a day; each of those days you are, honorable reader, subject to meet en tÊte-À-tÊte with a fowl, poularde, duck, pheasant, or other volatile species; is it not bad enough to have sacrificed the lives of those animaux bienfaisans to satisfy our indefatigable appetites, without pulling and tearing to atoms the remains of our benefactors? It is high time for the credit of humanity and the comfort of quiet families, to put an end to the massacre of those innocents.

Amongst other tribulations of carving I shall relate a most boufonne anecdote. “If you should, unhappily, be forced to carve at table,” says Launcelot Sturgeon, in his Essays, Moral, Philosophical, and Stomachic, “neither labour at the joint until you put yourself into a heat, nor make such a desperate effort to dissect it as may put your neighbours in fear of their lives; however, if any accident should happen, make no excuses, for they are only an acknowledgment of awkwardness. We remember to have seen a man of high fashion deposit a turkey in this way in the lap of a lady, but with admirable composure, and without offering the slightest apology, he finished a story which he was telling at the same time, and then, quietly turning to her, merely said, ‘Madam, I’ll thank you for that turkey.’” My conscience will not allow me to swear to the authenticity of the fact, but in the course of twelve months past I have witnessed a very similar instance, only the party not possessing the assurance of the fashionable above mentioned, did not continue the conversation, but in his nervous anxiety, endeavouring to replace it on the dish with vivacity, sent it rolling across the table to his right-hand neighbour, who quickly perceiving the imminent danger in which he was placed, fortunately arrested its further progress with his fork. One hearty laugh of the remaining party terminated this scene of confusion.

After a short consideration I found, by a most simple rule, and with the greatest facility, that a bird that would take ten minutes to carve very badly may be done well in two or three by the most inexperienced person. From this process a number of advantages may be derived: first, you may eat your dinner much hotter; secondly, you can make eight or ten pieces of a fowl, or any other bird, where, previously, great difficulty was experienced in making five or six; and each person will thereby be enabled to choose a favorite piece; a large bird, such as turkey, poularde, capon, &c., will be fit to reappear on your table in a very inviting state. I must also observe that the birds are not in the least disfigured, but, on the contrary, their appearance is much improved.

DIRECTIONS FOR CARVING.

By the simple process which I have effected for the jointing of game or small poultry, with a long pointed pair of scissors, separating the sinews which join the wings to the breast, making the incision as small as possible, and also jointing the legs, by passing your finger between the skin and the flesh, pressing the legs over the breast with the left hand, the separation of the joints may be easily effected and having thus detached the four principal parts, the carving, when roasted, will be very simple. But for the jointing of large birds, as turkeys, geese, capons, &c., procure an instrument I invented for that purpose from Bramah’s, Piccadilly, with which a very intelligible printed direction will be given for its use; after having jointed the bird, truss it with a packing-needle and string, as usual, but not pressing them so tightly, or they would become deformed, whilst, on the contrary, if merely brought to their usual shape, they will look as plump as possible, and the process they have previously undergone will be totally imperceptible. In many instances where I have sent poultry to table thus previously jointed, the parties carving have been quite surprised at their unexpected progress in that difficult art. Formerly nothing was more difficult to carve than wild fowl, the continual motion (when alive) of the wings and legs making the sinews almost as tough as wires, puzzling the best of carvers to separate them; my new method has quite abolished such a domestic tribulation. A long and dry description for the carving of each bird separately would be entirely useless, as every one of my readers will have perceived that almost the whole difficulty is defeated by this simple process; I shall therefore leave the subject, making but the following observation, which is, that in everything I dislike a straight line, and still more so in carving any kind of bird, by doing which you not only spoil their appearance, but cut against the grain, causing them to eat dry and, imperceptibly, obliging you to assist some of the guests to very thick pieces, unless the breast is very full and plump. I have here given a simple woodcut of a small turkey, by which you will easily perceive, that by trussing and carving in my new way, as represented, you will be enabled to carve for more people, assisting each to better slices with a middling-sized fowl, or any other bird, than with a larger one trussed and carved in the usual method. Keep, if possible, the legs in the position indicated in the design; any small birds, such as woodcocks, plovers, snipes, or teal, are generally cut into two or four, being easily carved, but for anything above their size the foregoing plan had better be acted upon.

Respecting the carving of any description of joints, it may be more simply explained. For a saddle of mutton or lamb, proceed precisely as directed for the saddle-back (page 644), and for a round or nitchbone of beef, proceed as scientifically explained (pages 641-3) by the carver of this mighty dish.

For the ribs or sirloin of beef, pass the knife between the chinebone and the flesh to about an inch in depth, but only to about the length you think sufficient to cut as many slices from as you may require; then having a sharp knife, cut off the outside slice very thinly (which, if roasted according to my new plan, will be very good, especially where parties have an objection to their meat the least underdone); hold your knife a little in a slanting direction, and continue cutting thin slices from the chine to the end, especially with the ribs, which are more lean, but it is preferable to leave all the ends of the sirloin in the dish as you carve, if not wanted, or after having carved two or three plates you are forced to dig the lean out, which is not only often, but generally done in a club-house where a scientific carver is not employed; if a slice from a fillet of a sirloin is required, the servant must take the joint to the sideboard, and turn it over with a couple of forks; when again placed upon the table, the carver must carefully part some of the fat which covers it, if too much, then cut short slices in a slanting direction, as if from the breast of a fowl, instead of crosswise, for then if clumsily carved and overdone it has a strong resemblance to an old strap.

For a rump of beef, either roasted or stewed, always commence at the fattest end, carving in a slanting direction, by which means you will obtain a correct quantity of that delicate article, if even you should be carving for twenty people, whilst by cutting straight across, some would have the greater proportion fat and the remainder nothing but lean. Any other piece of beef rolled and stewed, and fillets of beef, as served for a remove, all require to be carved in a slanting direction.

For a fillet of veal, proceed in the same manner as directed for a round of beef.

A loin of veal, if cut straight at the commencement, is entirely spoiled, but when carved slantingly (if well done from the best end), and eaten with its own gravy, nothing could be nicer, the remaining is then also very good cold, even the kidney ought to be served the same; and the breasts, either roasted or stewed, require the same style of carving.

For legs of mutton or lamb I also proceed in a new way: the frill, which is placed upon the knuckle-bone, is not only intended to ornament the leg, but likewise to enable you to hold the bone with your left hand, and carving with the right, which would wonderfully facilitate the operation. Instead of cutting across the middle, which opens all parts at once, thus losing a great deal of the succulence, I commence carving at about two inches from the knuckle, beginning with the heel of the knife, drawing it along to the point, cutting six or eight slices at once, more or less if required, then pass the knife beneath the whole, detaching them from the bone, thus helping each person quickly and with very hot meat, the gravy remaining in the meat will keep it moistened in good order for cold, whilst in the general manner you have nothing but dry meat, or if underdone on purpose for cold, the meat will always have a black appearance. This is my way of carving at home, but if objectionable to take the frill with the fingers, make use of the carving-fork; at home I never allow any gravy to be put into the dish, but served separately in a boat, but if the meat is of good quality it will supply (if well roasted) an abundance of good gravy. If for the table of the wealthy, commence carving the leg nearer to the centre, but always in a slanting direction.

For shoulders of mutton or lamb to eat well and delicate, the fat and lean must be well mixed in serving, to accomplish which the joint must be carved in a still more slanting direction than the legs, also beginning rather near to the knuckle.

For necks and loins of mutton, never separate the bones of either with a chopper, or you will partially mutilate the meat, thus losing all the gravy in roasting, and frequently have great difficulty in carving, but separate the joints with a small saw as neatly as possible, cutting in the direction you require to carve.

For ribs of lamb, which should be properly prepared for carving before being roasted, having the centre of the bones broken, with the chine-bone detached; to carve, you must of course follow the bones, which run rather slantingly, helping each person to a cutlet from the neck, with a slice of the breast, but not cut too thick; by following this plan, each person will have partaken of the breast, which, without contradiction, is the most delicate part (but which is most frequently left to be eaten when dry and cold), and if any remain, being evenly carved, will be very presentable to table on the following day.

To carve a ham proceed very similar to the manner directed for the carving of a leg of mutton, commencing two inches from the knuckle, cutting very thin and delicate slices, slanting more and more as you proceed, or you will have nothing but fat left at the extremity.

To carve an ox-tongue, stick your fork into the root, and cut a thin slice off, placing the heel of the knife upon it, which draw along to the point, thus taking the slice off in one cut, leaving it upon the dish, and serving the inner slices cut in the same manner, but very thin and delicate, you will thus have carved the best part of it easily without disfiguring the whole, still having a decent piece remaining for cold, but if you had commenced in the middle you would at once spoil the appearance, and the remainder would eat dry when cold.

Nothing is more creditable to a carver than leaving a piece of either meat, game, or poultry fit to reappear at table in an inviting state.

The above engraving represents a haunch of venison, cooked as No. 540, and ready for carving, the back-bone of the loin being first partly taken out to facilitate the operation, as marked by letters and lines in the drawing. The carving-knife must be sharp; put the point of it an inch deep from letter A to B, and draw it in a slanting direction from letter A to A, so on from B to B, but go a little deeper in, according to the thickness of your haunch, and avoid making a hole through any part of it, as a well must be reserved to give half a spoonful of gravy to every plate, each of two thin slices. If you are to help more than eight or ten persons from the haunch, then carve the loin at the same time as the thickest part, from C C to D D, and give to each guest a slice from each part, by which you will quickly perceive that you have fairly cut the meat, and that each person will have had his proper quantity of fat, and from first to last each slice will be very inviting; serve on very hot plates of silver if possible. Every amateur of venison knows, that without its due quantity of fat it is hardly eatable; I would therefore advise those who still wish to carve haunches on the old system, to calculate how many plates they have to carve for, otherwise they are sure to be misled, if they do not take the trouble to ascertain the number who are to be helped. My new system possesses an advantage, which is, that if six or eight persons only partake of a haunch, the remains of it are in a fine state, and fit to be cut into large slices for another dinner, by merely putting a few spoonfuls of gravy with the slices into a sautÉpan, over a sharp fire for three minutes; turn them carefully, season with little salt, a teaspoonful of currant jelly, turn the slices two or three times over until the jelly is dissolved, serve on a very hot dish, but be careful not to let the slices boil in the pan, or else they will become very tough. If any remain, make a hash as No. 784, or pie, No. 785.

ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL WAY.

When I am called to carve a haunch of venison for eighteen or twenty I proceed as follows: I take off the flat bone, previous to roasting, at the back of the loin, and pass the knife from the knuckle all along the lower part of the flap, which is left about two inches wide; I then begin to cut in a slanting direction, as the drawing represents, from the beginning of the loin, through the leg as far as the knuckle, without reserving a well for gravy, and in fact I have found it to be better, as every slice you cut through the leg produces its own gravy boiling hot, which unavoidably gets cold in the well formed the other way of carving. Do not omit to save some fat for the next day, as your hash or pie would be insipid.

Haunch of mutton or lamb may be carved either way.

For necks of venison, pass your knife across the lower part of the ribs, about four inches below the thickest part, then cut slices in a slanting direction, not interfering with the bone, as I have previously explained. For shoulders, see Shoulder of Mutton, page 645.

SADDLEBACK OF VENISON.

Having made a trial with Mr. Grove of Charing Cross of cutting a buck to produce a saddleback of venison, as I have done of mutton (page 644), we succeeded remarkably well, and obtained a most splendid joint that ever could be placed before an epicure; but if cannot be generally adopted, except in the country, where gentlemen keep their own park of deer, as we found it interfered with both legs, which look like legs of mutton, and deprived them of the best part of the fat, which cannot be dispensed with: in other respects they are excellent for pies.

I have also introduced a sauciÈre, made like a coffee-pot, heated by a spirit-lamp underneath, filled with good veal or beef gravy, to be taken round to each guest; the great heat of the gravy poured over the slices of venison, mixed with the gravy already helped from the haunch, makes a fine thick mixture, by which this delightful and noble joint is really enjoyed; the currant jelly always served ought not to be too sweet or too firm.

French beans, usually served with venison, ought to be very young and green, well dried, and very hot when sent to table; in case they could not be obtained, send up cauliflower or young brocoli with it; however I must here observe, that these vegetables are very unpalatable, as nothing disagrees more with currant jelly than French beans and brocoli. I have substituted tomatas farci, as described No. 1099, when in season, and served on a silver dish: they were much approved of. Plain broiled tomatas must be cut across, with the juice extracted without breaking; then put on the gridiron, with salt and pepper, on a very sharp fire, turn them, when done dish up, add a little butter over each, and send very hot.

CARVING OF POULTRY.

A fowl which has been prepared with the Tendon Separator before roasting, can produce afterwards ten very inviting pieces, suitable to the fancy of as many guests.

In the first place you take a carving fork, which you stick in the breast, between figs. 5 and 6, then you give a cut at the fillet, beginning at 1 down to 2, where you make the point of the knife cut through the joint of the wing, which by twisting a little will easily come asunder. The same operation is done from 3 to 4; and without removing the fork, you slide the knife under the leg at 7, and the same at 8, and both legs will immediately separate. The next cut is to be given at 5 to 6, and afterwards the back is divided in the same direction as the last numbers—as each leg is divided at the joint commonly called drumstick, it completes the ten parts.

A Duck. The best part of a duck is the breast, which should be cut in fillets obliquely, then the wings and the legs, the same as the fowl, and the body in two.

A Pheasant. The best parts are the breast and legs, which are carved the same as a fowl.

A Partridge. The wings and the body are the best parts.

A roast Hare must be cut along the spine, from the neck downwards to obtain the fillets, which ought then to be divided in parts, in the same oblique direction as the ribs. The legs and shoulders are seldom carved, but they are, with the body, excellent in a hash or stewed.

The woodcut at p. xxiii represents one of the most serviceable of instruments. Its object is to relieve carvers, more or less proficient, and must become indispensable for the use of all cooks and poulterers in disjointing the volatile species previous to trussing, roasting, or boiling.

To a clever carver, sitting at a homely table or public banquet, it matters little whether all eyes are fixed upon him or a fidgety footman is at his elbow. He quietly distributes the several dainties according to the fancy of the guests, and everything goes on in comfort. But to a person inexperienced, the notion of being placed at either end of the table, to stay the ravenous appetite of some of the guests, causes such a nervous excitement, that it is not an uncommon thing to see the splashing of sauce and gravy on those around—perchance the sudden appearance of an unfortunate limb flying with terrific velocity on a lady’s dress, the whole of the company being thus thrown into confusion—the poor carver’s apologies received with black looks, and the harmony of the party placed in jeopardy.

It is with a view to extricate society from such an awkward position that the inventor offers to the public the Tendon Separator, as a medium by which any gentleman may boldly take the carving-knife in hand, and be delighted to comply with the invitation of the Amphytrion: instead of inspiring fear, he will be admired for his ability in gracefully dividing a favorite piece of game or poultry.

The simplicity of the operation will easily convince any one that the Tendon Separator possesses all that is required to remove awkwardness in carving; the only necessity being to divide the tendons in the joints, the toughness of which is the difficulty to be overcome, and often abandoned to make a desperate cut at the bones; hence arise the accidents above mentioned.

The following instructions will enable all cooks and poulterers to prepare game and poultry for the table, perfectly free from opposition to any carver’s knife.

THE TENDON SEPARATOR

Is represented shut when done with, by merely slipping the brass ring to keep the spring in its place, and open when in the act of being used; the straight part of the handle, with the ring, resting in the palm of the hand between the thumb and the fore-finger. When about separating the tendons and otherwise dividing other parts of your fowl or bird, you begin by turning the skin over the wings and cutting the tendons (No. 1, p. xxiv) in each of the joints; and then by taking hold of that part commonly called the drumstick with your right hand and the skin being already turned, you can easily get at the joint (No. 2) by making it come out, to cut the tendons of each leg; on turning the Separator with the points upwards, you give a cut at the breast-bone (No. 4); and, by holding the instrument with both hands, immediately after turning the points downwards, you also give a cut at the back-bone (No. 5), and then, the four tendons being cut, the limbs are brought back to their former position. Then you introduce the instrument into the body at the other end of the bird, and with your left hand you take hold of the thigh-bone, which you also divide at No. 3, and again turning the points downwards, you give another cut at the back-bone No. 5; with little practice the cuts at the breast and back-bone, are made without interfering in the least with the skin; then you truss the bird in the common way, but a packing-needle and thread are to be preferred, as explained at page xv. When roasted, the appearance of the poultry is vastly improved by this simple operation, it looks more plump on account of the sinews having lost their power of contraction whilst roasting; therefore, when the bird

comes to table, the carver has merely to pass the knife in the usual manner to take up the wings and legs, and finds no resistance; the same at the breast and the back, where it may easily be seen whilst carving that it has already been prepared.

Three minutes is about the time taken by this new process to cut into ten parts an ordinary fowl.

For a Turkey or a Goose, the sinews are divided as above, and in the act of carving, instead of cutting the fillets in a straight line with the breast-bone, you separate them obliquely, and all other parts as usual.

Pheasants, Ducks, and all Wild Fowl especially, must be prepared in a similar manner.

A Hare or Rabbit may also have the sinews and back-bone divided; to effect this you lay the hare upon its back, and give six cuts nearly through the back-bone, holding the Separator with both hands, through the belly part; then you truss it for roasting. If it should happen to be a very large hare, the fillets only are carved, and they ought to be cut in thin slices in an oblique direction, instead of straight along the back.

DIRECTIONS FOR LARDING.

My motive for introducing the directions for larding at the commencement of this work, is to give it the importance which it deserves, it having in all former works been generally omitted, or lost amongst a multitude of receipts, which has made me desirous of placing it in a conspicuous place, in the hope that many families in the middle classes of society may be able to partake of that very inexpensive luxury.

Nothing but experience and practice would enable a person to lard well, I have, therefore, given the few following directions, so that a person might improve himself after once commencing. I have been induced to do so from the fact of having had many female cooks with me for improvement, many of whom could send up very good dinners, but few of them have scarcely known, or had any idea of larding, being in the habit of having it done by their poulterer whilst in London, and in the country avoiding it entirely: I shall, therefore, endeavour to explain, first, the choice of the bacon; secondly, the manner of cutting it; and lastly, the best mode of larding.

Choose the firmest bacon you can obtain, quite fat, and not at all red, or it would break and cause a deal of trouble. To cut it, take off the piece of lean at the bottom, lay it upon a board with the rind upwards, and beat gently with a cutlet-bat, trim the sides, and cut it into bands the breadth that you may require your lardons in length; if for a fillet of beef, two inches; for fricandeau, turkey, poularde, fowl, pheasant, or sweetbread, an inch and a half; and for lamb’s sweatbreads much smaller. Take one of the bands, place it before you with the rind downwards, and with a sharp knife cut it in slices, (but not separating it from the rind), of the thickness you require for the article you are about to lard, then place your hand at the top, press lightly, and draw your knife straight along as if cutting the bacon in slices, so as to form the lardons square at each end, commencing cutting from the heel of the knife, and finishing at the point.

To lard, the French method is so familiar to me that I cannot but recommend it, especially to inexperienced hands. If a fricandeau, lay it lengthwise upon a clean napkin across your hand, forming a kind of bridge with your thumb at the part you are about to commence at, having previously taken all the skin from the veal with a knife, then with the point of your larding-needle make three distinct lines across, half an inch apart, run your needle into the third line (at the further side of the fricandeau), and bring it out at the first, placing one of the lardons in it, draw the needle through, leaving out a quarter of an inch of the end of the bacon at each line: proceed thus to the end of the row; then make another line half an inch distant, stick in another row of lardons, bringing them out at the second line, leaving the ends of the bacon out all of the same length; make the next row again at the same distance, bringing the ends out between the lardons of the first row, proceeding in like manner until you have larded the whole surface in chequered rows: proceed in a similar way with everything you lard, the difference being only in the size of the lardons, and in the case of poultry or game, previously scald the breasts. By following closely the above simple directions any cook may be able, if not to lard well, at any rate to lard well enough for every-day use, which would give practice, and likewise competence, to lard articles required upon more particular occasions.

MEAT AND POULTRY.

A FEW THINGS I OBJECT TO, THAT IS, NOT TO USE IN COOKERY COMESTIBLES WHEN OUT OF, OR BEFORE, THEIR PROPER SEASON.

For Butcher’s Meat, see page 637, Kitchen at Home.

In Poultry. I never use turkeys before Michaelmas, and not after the latter end of March.

Ditto turkey poults before the end of June, and not after September.

Capons, poulardes, pullets, and fowls, I use all the year round. I begin about March with the spring chickens, till the beginning of July.

Geese are in season almost all the year round.

Goslings, or green geese, commence early in the spring, and are called so till the end of September, thus there is hardly any difference between them and the Michaelmas geese.

Ducks and ducklings the same.

Rabbits and pigeons may be used all the year round; but it is only in the early part of the spring that I use tame rabbits.

Guinea-fowls are used when pheasants go out, which is about the latter end of January, and are used till the end of May. Their eggs are very good, more delicate than the common ones.

I never use grouse before the 14th Aug., nor after the 22d December.

Black cocks and gray hens about the same time as grouse, but they are more uncertain.

Ptarmigans are sent from Norway about the middle of January, and continue till March, but that depends upon the weather.

Though the shooting season for partridges is the first of September, and lasts till the end of January, I never cook one before the 3d, except being desired to do so, but I often keep some for three weeks after the shooting season is over.

The same with pheasants, which begins from the 1st of October till the end of January. By hanging them by the necks and putting a piece of garlic in the beak and a little cayenne, I one cold winter kept one six weeks after the shooting time had expired, which I afterwards presented to a party of real gourmets, who said it was the best they had partaken of during the season.

I always use wild ducks, widgeons, teal, pintails, larks, golden plovers, snipes, woodcocks from the commencement of November till the end of March, after which the flesh becomes rank and unfit for table.

Young pea-fowls are very good, and make a noble roast, see p. 401, and are in season from January till June, but they are very uncertain.

Plovers’ eggs, my favorite, an unparalleled delicacy, come about the middle of March, and are not considered good after the latter end of May; but when I can get them fresh in June, I do not discontinue their use, because they are, in my estimation, worthy of the patronage of the greatest gourmet. I have paid for them, at the beginning of the season, three shillings and sixpence each; they are the black plover or peweet’s eggs.

FISH.

For the last few years there has been quite an alteration in the seasons for these golden and silvery inhabitants of the deep.

Except the Cod-fish, which come in September, and by strictness of rule must disappear in March, the season for all other sea-fish becomes a puzzle; but the method I follow during the season is as follows:

Crimped Gloucester is plentiful in June and part of July, but it may be procured almost all the year round.

Common Salmon from March to July.

Salmon Peale from June to July.

Spey Trout from May to July.

Sturgeon, though not thought much of, is very good in June.

Turbot are in season all the year round.

John Dories depend entirely upon chance, but may be procured all the year round for the epicure, May excepted.

The original season of Yarmouth Mackerel is from the 12th of May till the end of July; now we have Christmas mackerel; then the west of England mackerel, which are good at the beginning of April.

Haddock and Whiting all the year round.

Skate all the winter.

Smelts from the Medway are the best, and are winter fish, the Yarmouth and Carlisle are good, but rather large; the Dutch are also very large, which often lose in the estimation of the epicure.

Brill is like turbot as to season.

Slips are similar to soles, good all the year round.

Gurnets are rather a spring fish.

Flounders and Diamond Plaice, are in full season from June to July.

Red Mullets vary very much now, but the beginning of the season was formerly the 12th of May; we had none this year except at a very extravagant price. I always use them when they are to be obtained.

Fresh Herrings are in season from November to January.

River Eels all the year round.

Lobsters in the spring and part of the summer. Prawns ditto.

Crabs are best in May.

Oysters begin in August, but are not very good till September.

Barrelled Oysters begin on the 15th of September, and last till the end of February.

Barrelled Cod, Lent fish, are best in winter or about March.

Sprats come in about the 8th of November.

Crawfish is a very favorite dish of the greatest epicures of France, and also of a few of the English; the author regrets that in fulfilment of an agreement between himself and M. Sampayo he is restricted from giving the receipt of Crawfish À la Sampayo, which has appeared in his Bill of Fare, No. 609. The reason of the enormous expense of this dish is that two large bottles of truffes du PÉrigord, which do not cost less than four guineas, are stewed with them in champagne.

VEGETABLES AND FRUIT.

The seasons for these delicacies are the principal guide for the epicure; but though either can be obtained by artificial means at a great expense, they do not repay in flavour their exorbitant price.

HOW EVERYTHING SHOULD BE IN COOKING.

All clear soup must not be too strong of meat, and must be of a light brown, sherry, or straw colour.

All white or brown thick soups must be rather thinnish, lightly adhering to the back of the spoon.

All purÉes must adhere little more to the back of the spoon.

Any Italian paste must be very clear, rather strong, and the colour of pale sherry.

All kinds of fish sauce should be thicker for boiled fish than for broiled or fried.

Brown sauce should be a little thinnish and the colour of a horse-chesnut.

White sauce should be of the colour of ivory, and thicker than brown sauce.

Cream, or Dutch sauce, must be rather thick, and cannot be too white.

Demi-glace requires to be rather thin, but yet sufficiently reduced to envelope any pieces of meat, game, poultry, &c., with which it is served.

Every description of fish should be well done, but not over-boiled, broiled, stewed, or fried.

Beef and mutton must be underdone even for joints, removes, and entrees.

Lamb requires to be more done.

Veal and pork must be well done.

Venison must be underdone, red in the middle, and full of gravy, but not raw.

Poultry, either broiled, stewed, boiled, or roasted, must be done thoroughly, not cutting in the least red, but must be still full of gravy.

Pheasants and partridges must be well done through, yet full of gravy.

Grouse, black cocks, gray hens, and ptarmigans, must cut reddish, with plenty of gravy, but not too much underdone.

All kinds of water-fowl must be very much underdone, so that the blood and gravy follow the knife in carving.

Plovers must be rather underdone, but done through.

Rabbits and pigeons must be well done.

Second-course savoury dishes must be rather highly seasoned, but with a little moderation.

Pastry should, when baked, be clear, light, and transparent, and of a beautiful straw colour; the body of a croustade the same.

Large pies, timbales, and casseroles of rice must be of a yellowish brown colour.

Jellies require to be rather white and transparent for fruits, and not too firm, but better so than too delicate.

Orange jellies should be of a deep orange colour, and all fruit jellies as near as possible to the colour of the fruit.

Creams should be very light and delicate, but fruit creams must be kept of the colour of the fruits they are made of.

For all the demi-glacÉ removes the ice must be firm, but not the least hard.

All kinds of soufflÉ or fondu must be well done through, or they would be very indigestible, clog the delicate palate, and prevent the degustation of the generous claret which flows so freely after dinner on the table of the real epicure.

I recommend sugar in almost all savoury dishes, as it greatly facilitates digestion and invigorates the palate, but always increase or diminish the quantity according to the taste of your employer.

I often introduce onions, eschalots, or even a little garlic in some of my most delicate dishes, but so well blended with other flavours that I never have a single objection even by those who have a great dislike to it.

Horseradish and herbs of every description may always be used with discretion to great advantage.

Contrary to the expressed opinion of every other previous publication, I say that too much seasoning is preferable to too little, as your employer can correct you by saying there is too much of this or that, and you can soon get it to his taste; but while you fear over-seasoning you produce no flavour at all; by allowing each guest to season for himself, your sauce attains a diversity of flavours. The cook must season for the guest, not the guest for the cook.

I have always found great advantage in dressing the greatest part of my entrÉes on a thin roll of mashed potatoes;[2] this has never been found objectionable, as it is so thin that it is imperceptible when covered with the sauces, and serves to prevent any entrÉes dressed in crown from being upset, before going on table, by the carelessness of the servant; for large removes, as turkey À la Nelson (No. 510), &c., after forming the ship (see engraving), egg, bread-crumb, and set in a moderate oven to brown, fix in your croustade, and dish up; the potatoes may be eaten, but not the croustade, which is merely an embellishment. Borders may also be made of forcemeat, as for ris de veau (No. 673), but gives much more trouble without being better; also of rice, by preparing it as for casserole au riz (p. 260); it may be used as mashed potatoes. Make but few preserves, only those that are indispensable; you will have a continual enjoyment of earlier stock, as Nature closely watches our wants and liberally supplies our wishes. The real gourmet, though anxious to produce novelty, never attempts to over-force the produce of the various seasons.

BRAISED ROAST TURKEY, CAPON, OR FOWL.

Peel and wash two onions, one carrot, one turnip, cut them in thin slices, also a little celery, a bunch of parsley, two bay-leaves, lay three sheets of paper on the table, spread your vegetables, and pour over them two or three tablespoonfuls of oil; have your turkey, or poularde, trussed the same as for boiling; cover the breast with thin slices of bacon, and lay the back of the bird on the vegetables; cut a few slices of lemon, which you lay on the breast to keep it white, tie the paper round with string, then pass the spit and set it before the fire; pour plenty of fat over to moisten the paper and prevent from burning, roast three hours at a pretty good distance from the fire: capons will take two hours, poulardes one hour and a half, fowls one hour, and chickens half an hour.