[2] Tarchnoff has recently discovered the curious fact that the white of the eggs of birds that are hatched without feathers remains transparent when coagulated, while the eggs which produce chickens and other birds already fledged become opaque when coagulated. This is familiarly illustrated by the difference between plovers’ eggs and hens’ eggs when cooked.

[3] ‘Egg-cement,’ made by thickening white of egg with finely-powdered quicklime, has long been used for mending alabaster, marble, &c. For joining fragments of fossils and mineralogical specimens, it will be found very useful. White of egg alone may be used, if carefully heated afterwards.

[4] Physiological Chemistry, vol. ii. p. 356.

[5] It was given to me in 1868. I have just found that some of it remains unused (December 1884), and that it still retains its characteristic flavour.

[6] The following, from Francatelli’s Modern Cook, is amusing, if not instructive: ‘Take two dozen garden snails, add to these the hind quarters only of two dozen stream frogs, previously skinned; bruise them together in a mortar, after which put them into a stewpan with a couple of turnips chopped small, a little salt, a quarter of an ounce of hay-saffron, and three pints of spring water. Stir these on the fire until the broth begins to boil, then skim it well and set it by the side of the fire to simmer for half an hour; after which it should be strained, by pressure through a tammy cloth, into a basin for use. This broth, from its soothing qualities, often counteracts, successfully, the straining effects of a severe cough, and alleviates, more than any other culinary preparation, the sufferings of the consumptive.’

[7] Carpenter’s Manual of Physiology, 3rd edition, 1846, p. 267.

[8] Londe, Nouveaux ÉlÉments d’HygiÈne, 2nd edition, vol. ii. p. 73.

[9] The necessity for this is not so great as may appear theoretically. I have tried the experiment of having veal cutlets fried in a bath previously used for fish, and was not able to detect any fishy flavour as I expected I should. This was the case even when I knew that the fish fat had been used, and I was consequently far more critical than under ordinary circumstances. Even apple-fritters may be cooked in fat that has been used for fish. I have tried this since the above was written and am surprised at the result.

[10] I have ventured to ascribe this lubricating function to the albumen which envelopes the fibres, though doubtful whether it is quite orthodox to do so. Its identity in composition with the synovial liquor of the joints, and the necessity for such lubricant, justify this supposition. It may act as a nutrient fluid at the same time.

[11] I am greatly disgusted with the cookery-books, especially the pretentious volume of Francatelli’s, on being unable to find any recipe for this delicious Italian dish, and a similar absence of a dozen or two of equally common and excellent preparations familiar to all who have dined at the Lepre (Rome), or other good Italian restaurants.

[12] Forty or fifty years ago these cheese fondus were one of the usual courses at many-course banquets, but now they are rarely found in the menu of such dinners. There is good reason for this. They are far too nutritious to be eaten with a dozen other things. Their proper use is to substitute the joint in an ordinary respectable meal of meat and pudding.

[13] Before the Adulteration Act was passed, mustard flour was usually mixed with well-dried wheaten flour, whereby the redundant oil was absorbed, and the mixture was a dry powder. Now it is different, being pure powdered mustard seed, and usually rather damp. It not only lies closer, but is much stronger. Therefore, in following any recipe of old cookery-books, only about half the stated quantity should be used.

[14] The reader who desires further information on this and kindred subjects will find it clearly and soundly treated (without any of the noxious pedantry that too commonly prevails in such treatises) in Dr. Andrew Combe’s Physiology of Digestion, which, although written by a dying man nearly half a century ago, still remains, like his Principles of Physiology, the best popular work on the subject. Subsequent editions have been edited and brought up to date by his nephew, Sir James Coxe.

[15] In fairness to retailers I should state that the price of arrowroot just now is unusually low; the ordinary range is from twopence to two shillings. People who are afraid of having their arrowroot adulterated should ask themselves what can be used to cheapen the St. Vincent at the above-quoted prices, which are those of the unquestionably genuine article.

[16] Shortly after the close of the Great Exhibition of 1851, when the South Kensington Museum was only in embryo, I had occasion to call on Dr. Lyon Playfair at the ‘boilers,’ and there found the Prince hard at work giving instructions for the arrangement and labelling of these analysed food products and the similarly displayed materials of industry, such as whalebone, ivory, &c. I then, by inquiry, learned how much time and labour he was devoting, not only to the general business of the collection, but also to its minor details.

[17] Such lixivium is essentially a dilute solution of carbonate of potash in very crude form, not conveniently obtained by burners of pit coal. I tried the experiment of soaking some ordinary Indian corn in a solution of carbonate of potash, exceeding the ten or twelve hours specified by Count Rumford. The external coat was not removed even after two days’ soaking, but the corns were much swollen and softened. I suspect that this difference is due to the condition of the corn which is imported here. It is fully ripened, dried, and hardened, while that used by the Indians was probably fresh gathered, barely ripe, and much softer.

[18] Ordinary tea contains about 2 per cent. of this. It may easily be obtained by making a strong infusion and slowly evaporating it to dryness, then placing this dried extract on a watch-glass or evaporating-dish, covering it with an inverted wineglass, tumbler, or conical cap of paper. A white fume rises and condenses on the cool cover in the form of minute colourless crystals. The tea itself may be used in the same manner as the dried extract, but the quantity of crystals will be less.

[19] In repeating these experiments I find that the best form of silk is that which the Coventry dyers technically call ‘boiled silk,’ i.e. raw silk boiled in potash to remove its resinous varnish. In this state the aniline dyes attach themselves to the fibre very readily and firmly.

[20] The following is from Knowledge of August 15, 1884. It is editorial, not mine, though I have heard these ‘Spirit Flavours’ spoken of by experts as ordinary merchandise. The Hungarian wine oil is one of them: ‘I have just obtained what is expressively known as “a wrinkle” from a wholesale price-list of a distiller which has fallen (no matter how) into my hands. That it was never intended to be seen by any mortal eyes outside of “the trade” goes without saying. In this highly instructive document I find, under the head of “Spirit Flavours,” “the attention of consumers in Australia and India” (we needn’t say anything about England) “is particularly called to these very useful and excellent flavours. One pound of either of these essences to fifty gallons of plain spirit” (let us suppose potato spirit) “will make immediately a fine brandy or old tom, &c., without the use of a still.—See Lancet report.” This is followed by a list of prices of these “flavours,” and then follows a similar one of “Wine Aromas.” A cheerful look-out all this presents, upon my word! The confiding traveller calls at his inn for some old brandy, and they make it in the bar while he is waiting. He orders a pint of claret or port, and straightway he is served with some that has been two and a half minutes in bottle! After the perusal of this price-list, I have come to the conclusion that in the case of no articles of consumption whatever is the motto Caveat emptor more needful to be attended to than in that of (so called) wines and spirits.’

[21] Since the above was written I have met with some alarming revelations concerning the increasing prevalence of cancer, which, if confirmed, will force me to withdraw this conclusion. This horrible disease has increased in England with increase of prosperity—with increase of luxury in feeding—which in this country means more flesh food. In the ten years from 1850 to 1860, the deaths from cancer had increased by 2,000; from 1860 to 1870 the increase was 2,400; from 1870 to 1880 it reached 3,200, above the preceding ten years. The proportion of deaths is far higher among the well-to-do classes than among the poorer classes. It seems to be the one disease that increases with improved general sanitary conditions. The evidence is not yet complete, but as far as it goes it points most ominously to a direct connection between cancer and excessive flesh feeding among people of sedentary habits. The most abundant victims appear to be women who eat much meat and take but little out-of-door exercise.

[22] I have lately learned that a patent was secured some years ago for ‘malt bread,’ and that such bread is obtainable from bakers who make it under a license from the patentee. The ‘revised formula’ for 1884, which I have just obtained, says: ‘Take of wheat meal 6 lbs., wheat flour 6 lbs., malt flour 6 oz., German yeast 2 oz., salt 2 oz., water sufficient. Make into dough (without first melting the malt), prove well, and bake in tins.’