Breakfast, luncheon, and tea / by Marion Harland.

  • Marion Harland
Date:
[1875?]
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Breakfast, luncheon, and tea / by Marion Harland. Source: Wellcome Collection.

Provider: This material has been provided by The University of Leeds Library. The original may be consulted at The University of Leeds Library.

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    their bills of fare, who have railed at soups as “ slops,” and entries as “ trash,” talk, after the year’s travel in foreign lands their husband’s earnings and their own pinching have gained for them. How they groan over native cookery and the bondage of native mistresses, and tell how cheaply and luxuriously one can live in dear Paris. “ Will the time ever come,” they cry, “ when we, too, can sit at ease in our frescoed saloons surrounded by no end of artificial flowers and mirrors, and order our meals from a restaurant ? ” To which I, from the depths of my home-loving heart, reply, “ Heaven forbid ! ” Have you ever thought how large a share the kitchen and dining-room have in forming the distinctive characteristics of the home ? 11 is no marvel that the man who has had his dinners from an eating-house all his life should lack a word to describe that which symbolizes to the Anglo-Saxon all that is dearest and most sacred on earth. I avow, without a tinge of shame, that I soon tire, then sicken of restaurant and hotel dainties. I like the genuine wholesomeness of home-fare. “ Madame,” said a Frenchman whom I once met at an American watering-place, “ one of my compatriots could produce one grand repast—one that should not want for the beautiful effects, with the contents of that pail—tub—bucket —of what the peoples here call the svill,” pointing to a mass of dinner ddbris set just without a side door. “ Monsieur,” I rejoined with a grimace that matched his, “ moi,je riaime pas le svill l” He was right, without doubt, in the implication that very much is thrown away as refuse which could be reproduced upon the table to the satisfaction and advantage of host and guest. Perhaps my imagination was more to blame than he for my unlucky recollection of his countrywoman’s recom- mendation of a mayonnaise to a doubting guest: “ You need not fear to partake, madame. The fish has been preserved from putrefaction by a process of vinegar and charcoal! ” It is a substantial comfort to the Anglo-Saxon stomach for its owner to know what he is eating. Call it prejudice, if you like, but it may have something to do with making one “ true clear through,” as my Yankee girl puts it. “ But such poetic repasts ! ” sighs my travelled acquaint- ance. “ Such heavenly garnishes, and flowers everywhere, and the lQveliest side-dishes, and everything so exquisitely