Manners and Social Usages, Mrs John M. E. W. Sherwood [always you kirsty moseley .txt] 📗

A hungry man can make a comfortable dinner of

cold ham and a baked potato.

 

Every country householder should try to have a vegetable garden, for

pease, beans, young turnips, and salads fresh gathered are very

superior to those which even the best grocer furnishes. And of all

the luxuries of a country dinner the fresh vegetables are the

greatest. Especially does the tired citizen, fed on the esculents of

the corner grocery, delight in the green pease, the crisp lettuce,

the undefiled strawberries. One old epicure of New York asks of his

country friends only a piece of boiled salt pork with vegetables, a

potato salad, some cheese, five large strawberries, and a cup of

coffee. The large family of salads help to make the country dinner

delightful. Given a clear beef soup, a slice of fresh-boiled salmon,

a bit of spring lamb with mint sauce, some green pease and fresh

potatoes, a salad of lettuce, or sliced tomatoes, or potatoes with a

bit of onion, and you have a dinner fit for a Brillat-Savarin; or

vary it with a pair of boiled chickens, and a jardiniere made of

all the pease, beans, potatoes, cauliflower, fresh beets, of the day

before, simply treated to a bath of vinegar and oil and pepper and

salt. The lady who has conquered the salad question may laugh at the

caprices of cooks, and defy the hour at which the train leaves.

 

What so good as an egg salad for a hungry company? Boil the eggs

hard and slice them, cover with a mayonnaise dressing, and put a

few lettuce leaves about the plate, and you have a sustaining meal.

 

Many families have cold meats and warm vegetables for their midday

dinner during the summer. This is not healthy. Let all the dinner be

cold if the meats are; and a dinner of cold roast beef, of salad,

and cold asparagus, dressed with pepper, oil, and vinegar, is not a

bad meal.

 

It is better for almost everybody, however, to eat a hot dinner,

even in hot weather, as the digestion is aided by the friendly power

of the caloric. Indeed dyspepsia, almost universal with Americans,

is attributed to the habit which prevails in this country above all

others of drinking ice-water.

 

Carafes of ice-water, a silver dish for ice, and a pair of ice-tongs, should be put on the table for a summer dinner. For desserts

there is an almost endless succession, and with cream in her dairy,

and a patent ice-cream freezer in her cuisine, the housekeeper

need not lack delicate and delicious dishes of berries and fruits.

No hot puddings should be served, or heavy pies; but the fruit tart

is an excellent sweet, and should be made � ravir; the pastry

should melt in the mouth, and the fruit be stewed with a great deal

of sugar. Cream should be put on the table in large glass pitchers,

for it is a great luxury of the country and of the summer season.

 

The cold custards, Charlotte-Russe, and creams stiffened with

gelatine and delicately flavored, are very nice for a summer dinner.

So is home-made cake, when well made: this, indeed, is always its

only “excuse for being.”

 

Stewed fruit is a favorite dessert in England, and the gooseberry,

which here is but little used, is much liked there. Americans prefer

to eat fruit fresh, and therefore have not learned to stew it.

Stewing is, however, a branch of cookery well worth the attention of

a first-class housekeeper. It makes even the canned abominations

better, and the California canned apricot stewed with sugar is one

of the most delightful of sweets, and very wholesome; canned peaches

stewed with sugar lose the taste of tin, which sets the teeth on

edge, and stewed currants are delicious.

 

Every housekeeper should learn to cook macaroni well. It is worth

while to spend an hour at Martinelli’s, for this Italian staple is

economical, and extremely palatable if properly prepared. Rice, too,

should have a place in a summer bill of fare, as an occasional

substitute for potatoes, which some people cannot eat.

 

For summer dinners there should never be anything on the table when

the guests sit down but the flowers and the dessert, the ice-pitchers or carafes, and bowls of ice, the glass, china, and

silver: the last three should all be simple, and not profuse.

 

Many families now, fearing burglars, use only plated spoons, knives,

forks, and dishes at their country houses. Modern plate is so very

good that there is less objection to this than formerly; but the

genuine housekeeper loves the real silver spoons and forks, and

prefers to use them.

 

The ostentatious display of silver, however, is bad taste at a

country dinner. Glass dishes are much more elegant and appropriate,

and quite expensive enough to bear the title of luxuries.

 

Avoid all greasy and heavy dishes. Good roast beef, mutton, lamb,

veal, chickens, and fresh fish are always in order, for the system

craves the support of these solids in summer as well as in winter;

but do not offer pork, unless in the most delicate form, and then in

small quantities. Fried salt pork, if not too fat, is always a

pleasant addition to the broiled bird.

 

Broiled fish, broiled chicken, broiled ham, broiled steaks and

chops, are always satisfactory. The grid-iron made St. Lawrence fit

for Heaven, and its qualities have been elevating and refining ever

since. Nothing can be less healthy or less agreeable to the taste at

a summer dinner than fried food. The frying-pan should have been

thrown into the fire long ago, and burned up.

 

The housekeeper living near the sea has an ample store to choose

from in the toothsome crab, clam, lobster, and other crustacea. The

fresh fish, the roast clams, etc., take the place of the devilled

kidneys and broiled bones of the winter. But every housewife should

study the markets of her neighborhood. In many rural districts the

butchers give away, or throw to the dogs, sweetbreads and other

morsels which are the very essence of luxury. Calf’s head is

rejected by the rural buyer, and a Frenchman who had the

physiologie du go�t at his finger-ends, declared that in a country

place, not five miles from New York, he gave luxurious dinners on

what the butcher threw away.

 

CHAPTER XXXV. LUNCHEONS, INFORMAL AND SOCIAL.

 

The informal lunch is perhaps less understood in this country than

in any other, because it is rarely necessary. In the country it is

called early dinner, children’s dinner, or ladies’ dinner; in the

city, when the gentlemen are all down town, then blossoms out the

elaborate ladies’ lunch.

 

But in England, at a country house, and indeed in London, luncheon

is a recognized and very delightful meal, at which the most

distinguished men and women meet over a joint and a cherry tart, and

talk and laugh for an hour without the restraint of the late and

formal dinner.

 

It occupies a prominent place in the history of hospitality, and

Lord Houghton, among others, was famous for his unceremonious

lunches. As it is understood to be an informal meal, the invitations

are generally sent only a short time before the day for which the

recipient is invited, and are written in the first person. Lord

Houghton’s were apt to be simply, “Come and lunch with me tomorrow.”

At our prominent places of summer resort, ladies who have

houses of their own generally give their male friends a _carte

blanche_ invitation to luncheon. They are expected to avail

themselves of it without ceremony, and at Newport the table is

always laid with the “extra knife and fork,” or two or three, as may

be thought necessary. Ladies, however, should be definitely asked to

this meal as to others.

 

It is a very convenient meal, as it permits of an irregular number,

of a superfluity of ladies or gentlemen; it is chatty and easy, and

is neither troublesome nor expensive.

 

The hour of luncheon is stated, but severe punctuality is not

insisted upon. A guest who is told that he may drop in at half-past

one o’clock every day will be forgiven if he comes as late as two.

 

Ladies may come in their hats or bonnets; gentlemen in lawn-tennis

suits, if they wish. It is incumbent upon the hostess but not upon

the host to be present. It is quite immaterial where the guests sit,

and they go in separately, not arm-in-arm.

 

Either white or colored tablecloths are equally proper, and some

people use the bare mahogany, but this is unusual.

 

The most convenient and easy-going luncheons are served from the

buffet or sidetable, and the guests help themselves to cold ham,

tongue, roast beef, etc. The fruit and wine and bread should stand

on the table.

 

Each chair has in front of it two plates, a napkin with bread, two

knives, two forks and spoons, a small salt-cellar, and three

glasses—a tumbler for water, a claret glass, and a sherry glass.

 

Bouillon is sometimes offered in summer, but not often. If served

well, it should be in cups. Dishes of dressed salad, a cold fowl,

game, or hot chops, can be put before the hostess or passed by the

servant. Soup and fish are never offered at these luncheons. Some

people prefer a hot lunch, and chops, birds on toast, or a

beefsteak, with mashed potatoes, asparagus, or green pease, are

suitable dishes.

 

It is proper at a country place to offer a full luncheon, or to have

a cold joint on the sideboard; and after the more serious part of

the luncheon has been removed, the hostess can dismiss the servants,

and serve the ice-cream or tart herself, with the assistance of her

guests. Clean plates, knives, and forks should be in readiness.

 

In England a “hot joint” is always served from the sideboard. In

fact, an English luncheon is exactly what a plain American dinner

was formerly—a roast of mutton or beef, a few vegetables, a tart,

some fruit, and a glass of sherry. But we have changed the practice

considerably, and now our luxurious country offers nothing plain.

 

In this country one waiter generally remains during the whole meal,

and serves the table as he would at dinner—only with less ceremony.

It is perfectly proper at luncheon for any one to rise and help

himself to what he wishes.

 

Tea and coffee are never served after luncheon in the drawing-room

or dining-room. People are not expected to remain long after

luncheon, as the lady of the house may have engagements for the

afternoon.

 

In many houses the butler arranges the luncheon, table with flowers

or fruit, plates of thin bread-and butter, jellies, creams, cakes,

and preserves, a dish of cold salmon mayonnaise, and decanters of

sherry and claret. He places a cold ham or chicken on the sideboard,

and a pitcher of ice-water on a sidetable, and then leaves the

dining-room, and takes no heed of the baser wants of humanity until

dinner-time. An underman or footman takes the place of this lofty

being, and waits at table.

 

In more modest houses, where there is only a maid-servant or one

man, all arrangements for the luncheon and for expected guests

should be made immediately after breakfast.

 

If the children dine with the family at luncheon, it, of course,

becomes an important meal, and should include one hot dish and a

simple dessert.

 

It is well for people living in the country, and with a certain

degree of style, to study up the methods of making salads and cold

dishes, for these come in so admirably for luncheon that they often

save a hostess great mortification. By attention