The second service was solid as the first. A huge turkey was dressed plain, flavored by salads and macaroni au parmesan.

When he saw this, the chevalier felt his strength revive; all the other guests were overpowered, excited by the changes of wines, he triumphed over their impotence, and drank their health again and again. Every time he drank their health, he took a slice from the turkey.

Due attention was paid to the side-dishes, and the chevalier stuck to business longer than any one would have thought possible. He only revived when the becfigues appeared, and became fully aroused when truffles were put on the table.

THE TURBOT.

Discord one day sought to effect an entrance into one of the most harmonious houses of Paris. A turbot was to be cooked.

The fish was on the next day to be served to a company of which I was one; it was fresh, fat, and glorious, but was so large that no dish in the house could hold it.

"Let us cut it in half," said the husband.

"Would you thus dishonor it?" said the wife.

"We must, my dear."

"Well, bring the knife, we will soon do it."

"Wait though, our cousin, who is a professor, will soon be here.

He will relieve us from the dilemma."

The gordian knot was about to be released, when I came in hungry, as a man always is at seven P. M.

When I came in I tried in vain to make the usual compliments. No one listened, and for that reason no one replied to me. The subject in discussion was at once submitted to me.

I made up my mind at once, went to the kitchen, found a kettle large enough to boil the whole fish, and did so. There was a procession composed of the master, mistress, servants, and company, but they all approved of what I did. With the fish we boiled bulbous root and other vegetables. [Footnote: From the above it is very clear that Brillat Savarin made what the late D.

Webster called a "chowder."] When the fish was cooked we sat down at the table, our ideas being somewhat sharpened by the delay, and sought anxiously for the time, of which Homer speaks, when abundance expells hunger. [The translator here omits a very excellent recipe for a fish-chowder. Everybody knows it.]

VI.

PHEASANTS.

None but adepts know what a pheasant is. They only can appreciate it.

Everything has its apogee of excellence, some of which, like capers, asparagus, partridges, callow-birds, etc., are eatable only when they are young. Others are edible only when they obtain the perfection of their existence, such as melons and fruits, and the majority of the beasts which furnish us with animal food.

Others are not good until decomposition begins, such as the snipe and pheasant.

When the pheasant is eaten only three days after its death, it has no peculiarity; it has not the flavor of a pullet, nor the perfume of a quail.

It is, however, a highly flavored dish, about half way between chicken and venison.

It is especially good when the pheasant begins to be decomposed-- an aroma and exciting oil is then produced, like coffee, only produced by torrefaction.

This becomes evident by a slight smell and change of color.

Persons possessed, however, of the instincts of gourmandise see it at once, just as a good cook knows whether he should take his bird from the spit or give it a turn or two more.

When the pheasant is in that condition it should he plucked, and not before.

The bird should then he stuffed, and in the following manner:

Take two snipe and draw them so as to put the birds on one plate, and the livers, etc., on another.

Take the flesh and mingle it with beef, lard and herbes fines, adding also salt and truffles enough to fill the stomach of the pheasant.

Cut a slice of bread larger, considerably, than the pheasant, and cover it with the liver, etc., and a few truffles. An anchovy and a little fresh b.u.t.ter will do no harm.

Put the pheasant on this preparation, and when it is boiled surround it with Florida oranges. Do not be uneasy about your dinner.

Drink burgundy after this dish, for long experience has taught me that it is the proper wine.

A pheasant served in this way is a fit dish for angels, if they visited the world as they did in Lot's day.

What I say, experience has already proved. A pheasant thus stuffed by Picard at La Grange [Footnote: Does he refer to La Fayette's estate?] was brought on the table by the cook himself. It was looked on by the ladies as they would have looked at one of Mary Herbault's hats. It was scientifically tasted, and in the interim the ladies eyes shone like stars, and their lips became coral.

I did more than this; I gave a similar proof to the judges of the supreme court. They are aware that the toga is sometimes to be laid aside, and I was able to show to several that good CHEER was a fit companion and reward for the labors of the senate. After a few moments the oldest judge uttered the word excellent. All bowed, and the court adopted the decision. I had observed that the venerable old men seemed to take great delight in smelling the dish, and that their august brows were agitated by expressions of extreme serenity, something like a half smile hanging on their lips.

All this thing, however is naturally accounted for. The pheasant, itself, a very good bird, had imbibed the dressing and the flavor of the truffle and snipe. It thus becomes thrice better.

Thus of all the good things collected, every atom is appreciated and the consequence is, I think the pheasant fit for the table of a prince.

Parve, nec invideo, sine me liber, ibis in aulam.

VII.

GASTRONOMICAL INDUSTRY OF THE EMIGRES.

Toute Francaise, a ce que j'imagine,

Salt, bien ou mal faire, un peu de cuisine.

Belle a.r.s.ene, Act. III.

In a chapter written for the purpose, the advantages France derived from gourmandise in 1815, were fully explained. This was not less useful to emigres; all those, who had any alimentary resources, received much benefit from it.

When I pa.s.sed through Boston, I taught a cook, named Julien, who in 1794 was in his glory, how to serve eggs with cheese. Julien was a skilful lad, and had, he said, been employed by the Archbishop of Bourdeaux. This was to the Americans a new dish, and Julien in return, sent me a beautiful deer he had received from Canada, which those I invited to do honour to it, thought admirable.

Captain Collet also, in 1794 and 1795 earned much money by the manufacture of ices and sherbets.

Women always take care to enjoy any pleasures which are new to them. None can form an idea of their surprise. They could not understand how it could remain so cold, when the thermometer was at 26 [degrees] Reaumur.

When I was at Cologne, I found a Breton n.o.bleman, who thought himself very fortunate, as the keeper of a public house; and I might multiply these examples indefinitely. I prefer however to tell of a Frenchman, who became very rich at London, from the skill he displayed in making salad.

He was a Limousin, and if I am not mistaken, was named Aubignac, or Albignac.

Poor as he was, he went, however, one day to dine at one of the first restaurants of London. He could always make a good dinner on a single good dish.

While he was discussing a piece of roast beef, five or six dandies sat at the next table, and one of them advanced and said, "Sir, they say your people excel in the art of making a salad. Will you be kind enough to oblige us?"