MADAME SOYER. (continued 2)

This marvellous dialogue, from which we have taken with our finger and thumb a tit-bit here and there, might be the text for inexhaustible annotation. It occupied no more than two pages; but, as Gibbon has said of Tacitus, “they are the pages of Soyer.” Every topic within the range of human knowledge is touched, by direct exposition or collateral allusion. The metaphysician and the theologian, the physiologist and the moralist, are all challenged to investigate its dogmas, which, let us forewarn them, are so curtly, positively, and oracularly propounded, as, if orthodox, to need no commentary; and if heterodox, to demand accumulated mountains of controversy to overwhelm them. For he, we believe, can hardly be deemed a mean opponent, unworthy of a foeman’s steel-pen, who has at his fingers’ ends “Mullets à la Montesquieu,” “Fillets of Haddock à la St. Paul,” “Saddle of Mutton à la Mirabeau,” “Ribs of Beef à la Bolingbroke,” “Pouding Soufflé à la Mephistophéles,” “Woodcock à la Staël,” and “Filets de Bœuf farcis à la Dr. Johnson.”

The constitution of English cookery is precisely similar to the constitution of the English language. Both were prophetically sketched by Herodotus in his description of the army of Xerxes, which gathered its numbers, and strength, and beauty from “all the quarters in the shipman’s card.” That imperishable mass of noble words—that glorious tongue in which Soyer has prudently written ‘The Gastronomic Regenerator,’ is in itself an unequalled specimen of felicitous cookery. The dishes which furnished the most recherché dinner Soyer ever dressed, the “Dîner Lucullusian à la Sampayo,” being resolved into the chaos whence they arose in faultless proportions and resistless grace, would not disclose elements and ingredients more heterogeneous, remote, and altered from their primal nature, than those which go to the composition of the few sentences in which he tells us of this resuscitation of the cœna of Petronius. A thousand years and a thousand accidents, the deepest erudition and the keenest ingenuity, the most delicate wit and most outrageous folly, have been co-operating in the manufacture of the extraordinary vocabulary which has enabled the Regenerator himself to concoct the following unparalleled receipt for “The Celestial and Terrestrial Cream of Great Britain.” (See p. 719.)

Half a century hence, when the simmering over the roseate fire is silent, may we, with M. Soyer, be present to gaze on the happy consummation of the conceptions of his transcendent imagination!

The Regenerator is too conversant with universal history not to know that his book, in crossing the Tweed northwards, approaches a people more familiar with its fundamental principles than any other inhabitants of these Fortunate Isles. England, for anything we care, may deserve the opprobrious title of perfidious Albion. Scotland—(“Stands Scotland where it did?”)—was ever the firm friend of France. Ages ago, when our southern cousins were incessantly fighting, we were constantly dining, with the French. Our royal and noblest families were mingled by the dearest ties with the purest and proudest blood of the adopted land of Mary. For centuries uninterruptedly was maintained an interchange of every gentle courtesy, and every friendly succour; and when the broadsword was not needed to gleam in the front ranks of Gallic chivalry, the dirk never failed to emit the first flash in the onslaughts of Gallic hospitality. The Soyers of those times—dim precursors of the Regenerator—did not disdain to alight on our hungry shores, and leave monuments of their beneficence, which are grateful to this hour in the nostrils and to the palate of prince and peasant. Nay, we shrewdly conjecture that some time-honoured secrets still dwell with us, of which the memory has long since perished in their birthplace. Boastful we may not suffer ourselves to be. But if M. Soyer ever heard of, or dressed, or tasted precisely as we have dressed and tasted, what is known to us and a very limited circle of acquaintances as “Lamb-toasty,” we shall start instantly from the penultimate habitation of Ultima Thule, commonly known as John O’Groat’s House, expressly to test his veracity, and gratify our voracity. Perhaps he may think it would not be too polite in us to transmit him the receipt. Not for a wilderness of Regenerators! Could we unfold to him the awful legend in connexion with it, of which we are almost the exclusive depositaries, the cap so lightly lying on his brow would be projected upwards to the roof by the instantaneous starting of his hair. The Last Minstrel himself, to whom it was narrated, shook his head when he heard it, and was never known to allude to it again; in reference to which circumstance, all that the bitterest malice could insinuate was, that if the story had been worth remembering, he was not likely to have forgotten it. “One December midnight, a shriek”—is probably as far as we can now venture to proceed. There are some descendants of the parties, whose feelings, even after the lapse of five hundred years, which is but as yesterday in a Highlander’s genealogy, we are bound to respect. In other five hundred years, we shall, with more safety to ourselves, let them “sup full of horrors.”

‘The Gastronomic Regenerator’ reminds us of no book so much as the Despatches of Arthur Duke of Wellington. The orders of Soyer emanate from a man with a clear, cool, determined mind—possessing a complete mastery of his weapons and materials, and prompt to make them available for meeting every contingency—singularly fertile in conceiving, and fortunate without a check in executing, sudden, rapid, and difficult combinations—overlooking nothing with his eagle eye, and, by the powerful felicity of his resources, making the most of everything—matchless in his “Hors-d’œuvres”—unassailable in his “Removes”—impregnable in his “Pièces de résistance”—and unconquerable with his “Flanks.” His directions are lucid, precise, brief, and unmistakable. There is not a word in them superfluous—or off the matter immediately on hand—or not directly to the point. They are not the dreams of a visionary theorist and enthusiast, but the hard, solid, real results of the vast experience of a tried veteran, who has personally superintended or executed all the operations of which he writes. It may be matter of dispute whether Wellington or Soyer acquired their knowledge in the face of the hotter fire. They are both great Chiefs—whose mental and intellectual faculties have a wonderful similarity—and whose sayings and doings are characterized by an astonishing resemblance in nerve, perspicuity, vigour, and success. In one respect M. Soyer has an advantage over his illustrious contemporary. His Despatches are addressed to an army which as far outnumbers any force ever commanded or handled by the Hero of Waterloo, as the stars in the blue empyrean exceed the gas-lamps of London—an army which, instead of diminishing under any circumstances, evinces a tendency, we fear, of steadily swelling its ranks year by year, and day by day—a standing army, which the strong band of the most jealous republicanism cannot suppress, and which the realization of the bright chimera of universal peace will fail to disband. Before many months are gone, thousands and tens of thousands will be marching and countermarching, cutting and skewering, broiling and freezing, in blind obedience to the commands of the Regenerator. “Peace hath her victories no less than those of war.” But it is not to be forgotten that if the sword of Wellington had not restored and confirmed the tranquillity of the world, the carving-knife of Soyer might not have been so bright.

The confidence of Soyer in his own handiwork is not the arrogant presumption of vanity, but the calm self-reliance of genius. There is a deal of good sense in the paragraph which we now quote. (See p. xl.)

It seems a childish remark to make, that all salts do not coincide in their saltness, nor sugars in their sweetness. The principle, however, which the observation contains within it, is anything but childish. It implies that, supposing the accuracy of a Soyer to be nearly infallible, the faith in his instructions must never be so implicit as to supersede the testimony of one’s own senses, and the admonitions of one’s own judgment. It is with the most poignant recollections that we acknowledge the justice of the Regenerator’s caution on this head. We once, with a friend who shared our martyrdom, tried to make onion soup in exact conformity with what was set down in an Oracle of Cookery, which a foul mischance had placed across our path. With unerring but unreflecting fidelity, we filled, and mixed, and stirred, and watched the fatal caldron. The result was to the eye inexpressibly alarming. A thick oily fluid, repulsive in colour, but infinitely more so in smell, fell with a flabby, heavy, lazy stream into the soup-plate. Having swallowed, with a Laocoonic contortion of countenance, two or three mouthfuls, our individual eyes wandered stealthily towards our neighbour. Evidently we were fellow-sufferers; but pride, which has occasioned so many lamentable catastrophes, made us both dumb and obdurate in our agony. Slowly and sadly, at lengthened intervals, the spoon, with its abominable freight, continued to make silent voyages from the platters to our lips. How long we made fools of ourselves it is not necessary to calculate. Suddenly, by a simultaneous impulse, the two windows of the room favoured the headlong exit of two wretches whose accumulated grievances were heavier than they could endure. Hours rolled away, while the beautiful face of Winander mere looked as ugly as Styx, as we writhed along its banks, more miserably moaning than the hopeless beggar who sighed for the propitiatory obolus to Charon. And from that irrevocable hour we have abandoned onions to the heroines of tragedy. Fools, in spite of all warning, are taught by such a process as that to which we submitted. Wise men take a hint.

“Nature, says I to myself”—Soyer is speaking—“compels us to dine more or less once a-day.” The average which oscillates between the “more” and the “less,” it requires considerable dexterity to catch. Having read six hundred pages and fourteen hundred receipts, the question is, where are we to begin? Our helplessness is confessed. Is it possible the Regenerator is, after all, more tantalizing than the Barmecide? No—here is the very aid we desiderate. Our readers shall judge of a “Dinner Party at Home.” (See p. 636.)

We shall be exceedingly curions to hear how many hundred parties of eight persons, upon reading this bill of fare in our pages, will, without loss of time, congregate in order to do it substantial honour. Such a clattering of brass and brandishing of steel may strike a new government as symptomatical or preparatory of a popular rising. We may therefore reassure them with the information, that those who sit down with M. Soyer, will have little thought of rising for a long time afterwards.

We have introduced ‘The Gastronomic Regenerator’ to public notice in that strain which its external appearance, its title, its scheme, and its contents, demand and justify. But we must not, even good-humouredly, mislead those for whose use its publication is principally intended. To all intents and purposes M. Soyer’s work is strictly and most intelligibly practical. It is as full of matter as an egg is full of meat; and the household which would travel through its multitudinous lessons must be as full of meat as the Regenerator is full of matter. The humblest, as well as the wealthiest kitchen economy, is considered and instructed; nor will the three hundred receipts at the conclusion of the volume, which are more peculiarly applicable to the “Kitchen at Home,” be, probably, the portion of the book least agreeable and valuable to the general community. For example, just before shaking hands with him, let us listen to M. Soyer, beginning admirably to discourse of the “Choosing and Roasting of plain Joints.” (See p. 637.)

How full of milky kindness is his language, still breathing the spirit of that predominant idea—the tranquillization of the universe by “copious dinners!” He has given up “basting” with success. Men may as well give up basting one another. Nobody will envy the Regenerator the bloodless fillets worthily encircling his forehead, should the aspirations of his benevolent soul in his lifetime assume any tangible shape. But if a more distant futurity is destined to witness the lofty triumph, he may yet depart in the confidence of its occurrence. The most precious fruits ripen the most slowly. The sun itself does not burst at once into meridian splendour. Gradually breaks the morning; and the mellow light glides noiselessly along, tinging mountain, forest, and the city spire, till a stealthy possession seems to be taken of the whole upper surface of creation, and the mighty monarch at last uprises on a world prepared to expect, to hail, and to reverence his perfect and unclouded majesty.

THE MORNING POST.

Cream of Egypt l’Ibrahim Pacha. The novelty of the bill of fare which appeared in our columns of Saturday last relating to the banquet given to his Highness Ibrahim Pacha, by the members of the Reform Club, the day previous, having since been the topic of general conversation, our readers will perhaps feel interested in the description of two of the most novel and original dishes served on that occasion. The first, entitled “Cream of Egypt à l’Ibrahim Pacha,” and composed expressly for the occasion by M. Soyer, the chef de cuisine of the club, was the admiration of the whole company, and especially so of the Pacha, who as soon as it was placed before him, quickly perceived the honour intended to be conferred upon him. This dish consisted of a pyramid about two feet and a half high, made of light meringue cake, in imitation of solid stones, surrounded with immense grapes and other fruits, but representing only the four angles of the pyramid through sheets of waved sugar, to show, to the greatest advantage, an elegant cream à l’ananas, on the top of which was resting a highly-finished portrait of the illustrious stranger’s father, Mehemet Ali, carefully drawn on a round-shaped satin carton, the exact size of the top of the cream. The portrait was immediately observed by his Highness, who carefully took it up, and, after showing it to several of his suite, placed it in his bosom. What was his Highness’s astonishment, however, on again looking at the spot, to observe in the cream, as under a glass, a highly-finished portrait of himself, surrounded by a very carefully-executed frame. M. Soyer, having been sent for by the party, was highly complimented by his Highness, through his interpreter. The Pacha desired to know where and how he could procure such a likeness of his father, and how his own was so correctly drawn in the cream? “Please tell his Highness,” says M. Soyer to the interpreter, “that both were executed from the original sketches drawn by our celebrated artist Horace Vernet, whilst in Alexandria. The portrait in the cream is drawn on wafer-paper, which being placed on the damp jelly representing the glass, dissolves, and nothing remains of the wafer-paper but the appearance of the portrait painted in light water-colours. The imitation of the gilt frame is made with the eau de vie of Dantzic and gold water mixed with the jelly, the gold leaf of which forms the frame.” After having been thanked by the Pacha, the pyramidal cream of Egypt was ordered to be shown to each guest by sliding it from one to the other round the table.

Though everything was eatable in it, this magnificent dish was respected, and remained untouched until the end of the banquet, though everybody tried to partake of the fruit which surrounded it.

The next dish which much amused the company was the one entitled the “Gateau Britannique à l’amiral,” being the representation of an old man-of-war, bearing the English and Egyptian flags, drawn on rice-paper, the ship being filled with ice mousseuse aux pêche. and loaded with large strawberries, cherries, grapes, and bunches of currants. It was so placed on the table that Commodore Napier had to help from this cargo the illustrious stranger, who appeared much amused at the incident. The moisture and liquor of the ice gradually melted and imbibed the carcase of the vessel, which was made of a kind of delicate sponge cake. While the gallant commodore was in the act of helping the remainder of the ice, the ship gave way, and formed a complete wreck, which caused great hilarity among the company who were close enough to witness the scene.

NEWSPAPERS, &c. IN WHICH M. SOYER’S WORK HAS BEEN NOTICED.

Athenæum. Bell’s Life. Blackwood’s Magazine. Britannia. Brussels Herald. Builder. Chambers’s Journal. Colburn’s New Monthly. Court Journal. Courrier de l’Europe. Douglas Jerrold. English Gentleman. Era. Examiner. Glasgow Constitutional. Globe. Guardian. Hood’s Magazine. Illustrated News. John Bull. Journal des Débats. La Mode. Dispatch. Literary Gazette. Liverpool Chronicle. L’Observateur Français. Morning Chronicle. Morning Herald. Morning Post. Musical World. Naval and Military Gazette. Observer. Petit Courrier des Dames. Pictorial Times. Punch. Satirist. Sharpe’s Magazine. Spectator. Sun. Sunday Times. Tablet. Times. Weekly Chronicle. Windsor and Eton Journal. Atlas.

From ‘THE TIMES’ of the 19th FEBRUARY, 1847.

Third Edition.—Yes! a third edition of this truly national work now lies before us. The public, as we shrewdly foresaw, have not failed to appreciate the labour of its author. Alexis Soyer has received the reward that sooner or later is bestowed upon the philanthropist and the patriot. It may possibly be remembered that when the incomparable cook of the Reform Club was overcome, to use his own words, with “a thrill of horror,” by the request of several persons of distinction, “particularly the ladies,” who urged him to publish a cookery book, he suddenly recollected having been in “a most superb library,” where all at once his attention was attracted by the 19th edition of a voluminous work, which was supported on either side by the glories of a Milton and a Shakspeare. When the Regenerator found courage to open the precious volume, to his great disappointment he discovered “a receipt for ox-tail soup.” “The terrifying effect produced upon me,” says Monsieur Soyer, “by this succulent volume made me determine that my few ideas, whether culinary or domestic, should never encumber a sanctuary which ought to be entirely devoted to works worthy of a place in the temple of the Muses.” Alas, how rash are human resolutions! How little, in the obscurity of our spring-time, do we dream of the dazzling splendour that awaits our coming summer! Every library, from the London to the British Museum, from Brocket Hall to the Palace of the Tuileries, has welcomed the Regenerator to its choicest shelf, and edition follows edition with a rapidity which, in the case of so ponderous a work, is positively marvellous. Like Byron, M. Soyer finds himself famous in a morning. We do not grudge him his greatness, but we confess we do envy the succeeding generations, who, destined to be the offspring of men that have been taught by Soyer to eat—not to appease hunger, but to elevate the soul,—will have acquired a delight in existence for which their grosser grandfathers were physically unfit. We welcome with all respect the third appearance of this true child of civilization. We can do no more.

ARNEY’S PATENT JELLY & BLANC MANGE POWDERS.

For the last eighteen months, I have invariably used the above production, and must acknowledge that these Powders combine all the requisites generally expected in a new invention. It is well known that cooks, in the country in particular, are very often disappointed in obtaining calf’s feet, and it also happens at times that they do not always succeed in producing a clear and fine jelly, although good in taste, not pleasing to the sight; the above Powders obviate all disappointments. They can be in store, and used when required; then is an economy in the cost, economy of time, and a certainty of having a brilliant jelly at any time.—A. Soyer.

As these Powders are prepared with the very best material, they are equal to calf’s feet; and although already flavoured, can be altered according to taste.

Sold at 1s. per Packet, or 2s. per Bottle, at 33, Frith Street, Soho Square; and at Arney’s Factory, Willow Mills, Mitcham Common, Surrey.

One Packet at 1s. will make a Jelly of one pint and a half; and a Bottle at 2s. three pints.

MAKEPEACE’S CULINARY HERBS.

I feel justified, from experience, in very strongly recommending “Makepeace’s Culinary Herbs”, which are admirably prepared for kitchen purposes, and of inestimable value for sea voyages. Their convenience and utility are decidedly of the greatest advantage in a well-organised kitchen; the cook having at all seasons of the year every species of herb used in cookery, which hitherto could only be partially obtained. The flavour is kept in high perfection; and the appearance of these herbs are really pleasing to the sight. Amongst the great variety of them, parsley, sage, tarragon, and winter savoy are particularly useful; the onion, garlic, and eschalot powders, when sprinkled over hot joints, steaks, or chops, impart a most delicious flavour to it. The veal and pork stuffing are very fine, and save an immense deal of trouble. In fact, I may say that no exception can be made, as all these excellent herbs are prepared, regardless of trouble and expense, in a most careful and scientific manner; which is a great credit to the patience of the inventor, and a benefit to society.—A. Soyer.

Sold in neat Boxes, sorted at 1s. and 2s. per Bottle, at 33, Frith Street, Soho Square and at Makepeace’s Factory, Mitcham, Surrey.

SOYER’S MODEL KITCHEN.

From the Times, Sept. 28, 1847.

“To the Editor of the Times.

“Sir,—The great interest you manifested in February last, when I made known my intention of erecting by subscription a model kitchen for the poor, was handsomely responded to by the public, and the scheme being considered by Government likely to be (at that distressing period) of immense advantage for Ireland, I was requested to lay my plans before the Lords of the Treasury, and being approved of, I willingly accepted the invitation of erecting my model kitchen in Dublin, instead of London, as I at first intended.

“Having successfully proved that the system was of paramount importance, both as regards the large quantity of superior food that could be produced, and the immense saving that could be effected, the Government then purchased my model kitchen, and the South Union Relief Committee of Dublin have had the use of it ever since the 24th of April.

“As I am certain, Sir, that my subscribers and the public will feel interested in the result of my plan, the following brief statement will, I hope, awaken all local boards (if at all anxious), and adopt a system which must save, on a very moderate calculation, at least 50 per cent. at any period of either scarcity or plenty.

“I leave to those who are better acquainted than I am with statistics what would be the amount saved to the ratepayers all through the country.

“From the opening of my model kitchen by me, on the 6th of April last, to the 24th, the number of rations of 2½ lb. each was40,000

“From the 26th of April to the 22d of May, by the South Union Relief Committee, the number of rations, averaging 12,600 per day, was300,000

“From the 24th of May to the 31st of July, also by the South Union Relief Committee, the number of rations per day varying from 1,750 to 23,640, was729,279

“From the 2d of August to the 14th, averaging 6,500 a-day, was78,000

“Making 2,868,179 lb. of food, and of rations1,147,279

“To supply that number of rations by the old plan of preparing food in different depôts, would have cost, at 3d. per ration (which is rather under the average), the sum of£15,536

“But, according to my plan of preparing food with my model kitchen, as it was estimated in a report made to the Relief Committee by its Secretary, on the 23d of April last, the cost of each ration, including coals, expenses of house, carriage, labour, &c. came to 1⅜d., making altogether, for 2,863,197 lb. of solid food, a sum of7,788

“Effecting a saving in favour of the South Union Committee of 50 per cent., or a sum of£7,768

“In support of the above statement, I beg to observe that the ratepayers of the North Union of Dublin have paid 3s. 4d. in the pound, whilst those of the South Union only paid 1s. This result, Sir, speaks volumes in favour of my system. In addition to the model kitchen, Messrs. Brown & Co., of Great Suffolk Street, Borough, have erected one of their patent steam-plate ovens, which can bake on an average 1,000 loaves of 4 lb each every 12 hours with three bushels of coke. The 1,000 loaves require 11 sacks of flour, consequently, 22 sacks can be worked in 24 hours, 132 sacks per week, at about 1d. per sack for fuel. What with the savings in baking, and also the new process of making bread, I have introduced, I calculate that full 25 per cent. can be saved on the cost of bread at all times.

“Therefore, admitting that the model kitchen, the new oven, and the new bread could only save 35 or 40 per cent. to the ratepayers, the system cannot be otherwise than particularly interesting to the whole community.

“I am, Sir, yours most respectfully, “A. SOYER.

“Reform Club, Sept. 23.”

Under the Patronage of the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of London.

SOYER’S PAROCHIAL MODEL KITCHEN,

FOR THE

POOR WEAVERS OF SPITALFIELDS.

From the Times of February 21.

“Sir—Having lately been introduced by several gentlemen of distinction to the Reverend Joseph Brown, the benevolent pastor of Saint Matthias, Spitalfields, with the view of relieving, if possible, at a trifling expense, the sufferings of that industrious but distressed class of society, the Weavers of Spitalfields; and having, with that gentleman, visited several of their abodes, we found, in many of the houses, five or six in a small room, entirely deprived of the common necessaries of life—no food, no fire, and hardly any garment to cover their persons, and that during the late severe frost. In one of the attics we visited we inquired of a woman how they subsisted. Her husband, she said, had no employment during the last four months, and that they merely lived on what he could get by begging in the streets; she added, that she and her children had not tasted a bit of food for twenty-four hours, the last of which consisted of apples partly decayed, and bits of bread given to her husband, which food we may consider, if even plentiful, to be pernicious to health. The only piece of furniture in that gloomy abode of misery was the weaving machine, now at rest, and which, in time of prosperity, was used to provide food, and made, if not a wealthy, at least a happy home for those now wretched and destitute families, and the scientific production of which has often, and even now, adorns the persons of thousands of the aristocracy and gentry of the country.

“I am quite convinced, Sir, that the wearers of those luxuries possess at all times the most charitable feelings towards their fellow-creatures in distress; and when they are made aware, through the medium of your powerful journal, of the facts of the present lamentable position of those who have by their industry so often gratified their sights and wishes, none of them will, I am certain, refuse a small token of charity towards the relief of those unfortunate martyrs of industry, whose poverty no one can blame, but whom everybody must pity. After having witnessed such distressing scenes, I immediately proposed that my Subscription Kitchen for the Poor, which was being made at Messrs. Bramah and Prestige’s factory, should be erected, without any loss of time, in the most populous district of Spitalfields, where there are no less than 10,000 poor people in one parish, and hardly any wealthy families among them to give them relief.

“I am happy to inform you, Sir, that my first experiment, made last Saturday, has been most successful, having been able to make a most excellent peas panada and meat soup in less than one hour and a half, and that at a very moderate expense—the quickness and saving of which are partly owing to the contrivance of my new steam apparatus, and which food was distributed, without any confusion, in less than twenty minutes, to about THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY children, who were selected for the occasion from the different schools, the remainder of the food, with bread, being given away to many poor families in the neighbourhood.

“The kitchen will remain open daily, and nothing will be given away except to those who are proved to be quite destitute; a quart of food or soup, and a quarter of a pound of bread, will be given for one penny.

“All information respecting the issuing of tickets and receiving of subscriptions will be made known by advertisements.

“I am aware that every nobleman, gentleman, and tradesman have to support their own poor, and therefore propose that not more than a guinea should be received from any one as a subscription; but from 6d. to the above sum will be most thankfully received, and disposed of with the greatest economy.

“I beg to observe, that any of the subscribers who should wish to keep their names private, will be pleased to make a private mark, that they may see it correctly entered in a catalogue, which will be published monthly, with an account of all the subscriptions received, expenses incurred, the quantity of ingredients consumed, with a correct list of the poor relieved.

“I trust, under all these circumstances, you will be good enough to give a place to this letter in your journal.

“With the highest consideration, “I am, Sir, your most obliged, “A. SOYER.

“Reform Club, Feb. 17.”

SOYER’S CULINARY INNOVATION.

MINIATURE KITCHEN FOR THE NAVY.

BY AN OBSERVER.

THE indefatigable Gastronomic Regenerator, Mons. Soyer, whose mind is always catering for the comfort and the taste of all classes of society, has not only given us a most useful work on Cookery, containing thousands of excellent receipts, but also various plans for the construction of kitchens, such as the matchless Kitchen of the Reform Club, the Kitchen of the Wealthy, his Kitchen at Home, the Bachelor’s, and the Cottage Kitchen.

But when the late famine took place in Ireland, his attention was quickly drawn to the shortest and most economical means of relieving a vast number of the destitute, and that, by the erection of a Model Kitchen on a plan entirely new, and which proved of the utmost importance in Dublin, both as regards superiority of wholesome food, and its immense saving in preparation, which can be tested daily by rich and poor in merely consulting that excellent sixpenny little book, the ‘Poor Man’s Regenerator,’ containing twenty-three invaluable receipts for the working class and the poor.

What leads us to the above introductory remarks is, that for a little while we find him abandon the inhabitants of terra firma for the wide ocean, to show us that he can devote also a portion of his time and exertion to the comfort of seafaring life in the fitting up of a commodious Miniature Kitchen on board every-sized vessel laying claim to real improvement.

Lately the beautiful and splendid steam-ship the Guadalquiver, built at Liverpool, left that wealthy mercantile town for the Spanish Main with a kitchen such as never was before attempted to be erected.

To give our readers an idea of the completeness of this Marine Miniature Kitchen, they will be surprised when we say that in a confined space of seventeen feet long and eight wide, a range with vertical bars, smoke-jack, screen, spits and dripping pan are erected, where roasting may be done in great perfection: next is a bain-marie, for keeping soups and sauces very hot, without the danger of burning or of being upset in rough weather: three charcoal stoves, hot plate, gridiron; and a steam boiler for dressing vegetables, and even meat or fish, is found to be a very great convenience. There is also a good oven for baking bread, pastry, and biscuits, and a hot closet above; a kitchen table, with drawers and sliding shelves, under which is a cupboard for preserves, a pestle and mortar, vegetable and washing boxes; under the stove and hot plate are two recesses for fuel; above the stoves are placed rows of shelves, upon which blocks of wood are fixed for each saucepan; on the edges of the shelves the sauté pans, covers, and ladles are suspended, and secured with bands of India rubber to prevent the rattling: in fact a complete ‘batterie de cuisine’ is at the disposal of the cook; and the last but not the least ingenious design is a moveable balance grating, with something new in its contrivance, as it prevents the upsetting of any saucepans used upon it in stormy weather. Two perpendicular pieces of iron of about fifteen inches are fixed into a circle, the size of the charcoal stove, at the extreme points of the square, where pins of iron are fixed to keep the circle in its place; between the two uprights is the grating, supported by two rods on each side, finishing in a point, and turning at the end like a hook, to go into the holes perforated at the top of the uprights, thus acting like the compass, the saucepans are thus always on a level; and by merely turning the circle to whatever point is required, this balance grating will support its burthen over the fire constantly on a level, despite the rolling of the vessel. Outside, leading to the deck, are rows of hooks covered over to hang up meat, game, and poultry. In fact, the whole of the fittings are so contrived that they have the appearance of fixture.

This kitchen is also well ventilated and fire-proof, and in it a recherché dinner can easily be dressed for one hundred persons, being the average number of passengers likely to be taken up by the Guadalquiver on the coast of Cuba, in connexion with the railroad constructed right through the Island.

For a kitchen in a vessel of less dimension, one steam pan, the hot plate and oven would be sufficient, and only a few of the useful articles mentioned would be required, thereby considerably diminishing the expense, and then possess a kitchen very superior to those now constructed.

FOOTNOTES:

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

when add two tablespoonfuls=> then add two tablespoonfuls {pg 29}

two tablespoonfuls of liason=> two tablespoonfuls of liaison {pg 37 x 2}

when fill it up and your consommé=> then fill it up and your consommé {pg 54}

have ready boiled a a quart=> have ready boiled a quart {pg 183}

have an ox tonge=> have an ox tongue {pg 210}

eight square dieces=> eight square pdieces {pg 402}

with which garnish the ballotins=> with which garnish the ballotins {pg 426}

Pocure ten fine heads => Procure ten fine heads {pg 451}

Brussels Sprouts sauté au buerre=> Brussels Sprouts sauté au beurre {pg 462}

cream served upon in was cut=> cream served upon in was cut {pg 483}

and a a little powdered cinnamon=> and a little powdered cinnamon {pg 497}

into a a round bowl=> into a round bowl {pg 525}

when completly but thinly=> when completely but thinly {pg 541}

a little powdered cinamon=> a little powdered cinnamon {pg 497}

see if coloured sufficently=> see if coloured sufficiently {pg 510}

cotelettes de mouton en suprise=> cotelettes de mouton en surprise {pg 555}

untill becoming very light=> until becoming very light {pg 564}

make a litttle white sauce=> make a little white sauce {pg 648}

but six tablespoonfuls of salad-oil=> put six tablespoonfuls of salad-oil {pg 658}

with a little scraped horeradish=> with a little scraped horseradish {pg 660}

place upon you dish=> place upon your dish {pg 666}