The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1882-01-07
PRICE 8 CENTS.
Notes By an Epicure.
Boston Courier.1

He who can endure tasteless soup is capa-
BILE of constructing universe without light.
A vegetable soup without turnip has no
raison d'etre; without carrot, no SAVIOR; with
out green peas, no delicacy; and without cauli-
flower, utterly fails of the heights possible to
its being. 1t should be clear as topaz, or
like century-old Amontillado; of salt it must
have barely enough; of pepper, a little--a mere
Soupeon.
The PURGE is voluptuous; to it belong savors
musky, penetrating, languid; the consouanae is
nervous; it must have caloric-of spice and Of
fire-and flavors with UerUe and chic.
Men are dangerously and deceitfully wicked,
and cooks do chiefly display their innate de-
pravity by abuses heaped upon fish. AS a race
cooks seem to feel an irresistible impulse to
revenge upon every denizen of the deep given
into their hands the indignity once shown by
marine citizen to the erratic and somewhat
profane prophet Jonah. The cook vino can
send fish to the table properly cooked and
properly served is deserving of canonization
were he as deeply stepped in CORY guilt as
Borgia or o Cenci.
Only a palate informed by an aesthetic soul
can appreciate mushrooms; and to serve trnf-
hes to any but the most elevated Of the inner
brotherhood of gastronomes is crime of bias
phemy which should be punished by breaking
on the wheel.
A traveller may eat steak, hunter may
satisfy his hunger upon roast sirloin, but
only an artist or poet should be allowed to-
partake of the delights OF Ftet dc 6@1J du1
chG1nptg1lonS.
/ can pardon the man who deceives me; he
may have the purest OF motives; the man who
should elope with my wife-did possess one
could forgive-his feelings might have over
powered him; but the man who could cold
bloodedly drink claret from colored glass is
inexcusable; he can have no object but to out
rage the highest instincts OF the soul and to
insult the eternal veritieS.
There is one instant in the existence Of roast
sirloin when it is fit food for men, before which
it is suited to carnivorous beasts and after
which it should be relegated to the maids and
footmen; when the outside is crisp and brown
and weIl-done, and the inside is juicy and red
and rare the whole being as hot as Puritan's
holy rage at anabaptists, and tender as his con-
science. For this instant the roast is an epic;
before il is tradition, and after 1t is prose.
Salads are a religion. Time, which destroys
creeds, rounds and mellows into ripe complete
ness the art of compounding this dish for the
gods. The ability of skilfully and artistically
concocting salad argues mental perfection
beside which all mere moral excellence sinks
into insignifcance. To mix salad is solemn
rite, ceremony only to be undertaken with
deliberation, gravity and reverence. The
herbs must be purified till they are like maid
ems eye, the oil Is 10 De poured uko lrlenuSulp,
not too lavisbly; the salt sprinkled like that
small touch of truth which is compatible with
happiness and love; the vinegar dashed in like
healthy hearty hatred, but not so freely as to
embitter. He who has once made good salad,
neither cutting nor bruising the herbs. who
has been betrayed into no mixture Herewith
of fish, flesh or fowl, degrading the whole to
the vulgar level of a mongrel mayonnaise, who
has added exactly the proper dash OF white
wine and served it COOL piquant, green, fra
grant, cracking, appealing to all five senses at
once, has achieved the triumph of being, and
has nobly vind1cated his claim to existence.
Biscuit gIdce is like young love, delicate,
coy, ethereal. Who has not seen 1t served up
on lace paper like valentine, and remembered
with mildly-thrilling joy the time when he
sent rhyming posies to some childish Doris or
Chloe long since married to some other man?
Creams are like vulgar passions sherbets, like
marriages deS coRUenGnces; but biscuit gtdce is
the first love, the very poetry OF ices.
He who presumes to serve chocolate without
dash of eognac is recklessly Indifferent to the
best gifts of the gods.
Cafe noir makes still possible in this materi-
alistic world belief in the supernatural. Can
too much care, then, be lavished upon the prep
aration of this antidote against the scepticism
of the age, this only panacea for the evils OF
doubt, dismay and despair? Alternate my
friends, ruin my reputation, and destroy my
credit but spare, oh, spare my CAFE NOR.