Cassell's dictionary of cookery

When coffee is not quite bright it will often settle bright when allowed to stand for some time. Indeed, the old-fashioned plan of putting the coffee into a coffee-pot and boiling it over the fire is b}^ no means a bad method, only the coffee must be allowed a long time to settle. At any rate, this method has the advantage of getting all the goodness out of the coffee. The Mocha coffee is the best, the aroma being superior to any other kind. Coffee, too, should be coarsely ground. Indeed, some persons maintain that it is best pounded in a mortar very coarsely, and not ground at all. Much less wine is drunk after dinner now than formerly, and good strong black coffee should be served up very soon after dinner is finished. Boiling milk should always accompany coffee. WINE. We now come to another subject in reference to dinner, and that is the wine. It is not, however, on the manufacture of wines that I shall treat, but on the selection of wine. It is, of course, of the utmost importance that during dinner the fluid food should be adapted to and kept in harmony with the solid food. There can be no doubt that all persons, not merely wine merchants but the public generally, approach the subject of wine with an immense amount of prejudice, which it is absolutely impossible to get rid of entirely. The late Mr. Francatelli, who was formerly chef to Her Majesty the Queen, and recently the manager of the " Freemasons' Tavern," and with whom I have had many conversations on the subject of the principles of cookery, has justly observed in his famous work, " The Modern Cook," that " the palate is as capable, and nearly as worthy, of education as the eye and the ear." Now we should recollect that our palate, especially on the subject of wine, has undergone an unconscious education, and we have certain fixed standards of excellence that are after all really only arbitrary standards. It will be found in this country that the universal feeling among the people is in favour of a good heavy port or sherry. In all the large London hospitals it is found that the poor absolutely despise any other kind of wine. On the other hand, the best-educated palates invariably prefer, at any rate with food, a light wine, such as hock or claret. We unconsciously in judging of all kinds of new wines compare them with certain good wines to which we are accustomed— such as Clos-Yougeot — the king of Burgundies— or Chateau Margaux, Chateau Lafitte, or Chateau Latour— the best of the clarets — or to some fine hock, sherry, port, or Madeira. Again, all sparkling wines are unconsciously compared with champagne, such as Pommery and Greno, or to sparkling hock or Moselle. Now, although these wines are admirable in themselves, it does not follow that they and they only are standards of perfection. To say which is the finest-flavoured wine would be as impossible as to say which is the most beautiful colour, or which is the most beautiful piece of music. The world is changing very rapidly, and probably in no previous part of our history have we as a nation undergone so rapid and complete a change as during the past few years. Let any one contrast the general mode of living now with what it was only twenty-five years ago. The change has undoubtedly been in favour of increase of luxmy. Our fathers used to be content with a glass or so of sheny at dinner, and a