by the housewife for letting her food spoil. To watch any object
with undivided attention, even for a few minutes, is with the majority
of persons a feat as difficult as the fabulous apple-shooting of William
Tell. The mere consciousness that one has to do a thing prevents
one's doing it. Those who doubt this have only to try to look into
another person's eyes without moving a muscle, or laughing, wink-
ing or wavering for five minutes. Nine persons out of ten will fail,
and they will fail because of the double process of attention and con-
sciousness of attention. The conscious effort makes the failure. They
could do the same thing for a much longer time if they were not
trying to do it.
So with cooking: it is an easy thing to cook well, but it needs
attention and pains, which few busy housewives or servants are will-
ing to take. The joint may be only the ancient leg of mutton or rib
of beef, but it needa frequent turning of position toward the fire that
it may get equally roasted, and it needs frequent basting so that it
may be brown and juicy. So, also, with making and baking a
loaf of bread. It costs as much time and trouble to do it wrong and
make it like a leaden lump, or to make it that most delicious of all
bread food, far surpassing the richest cake, a perfect home-made
cottage loaf with a " kissing crust," as children call it in some parts
of the country.
If one is a thoroughly bad cook, as so many who profess
to cook are, he or she should never attempt a perfectly simple
dish, such as a roast joint or a broiled steak. These are too
easily spoiled to bear any trifling. But let the bad cook confine
him or herself to " made dishes," as they are called, in which the
cook's hand is a hidden hand, and all sorts of flavorings disguise
the maltreated meat. The Frenchman can serve you a dish of roast
beef from the loins of a Paris cab-horse " retired from business," and
"a donkey what wouldn't go" made into a curry will pass for venison.
Many of my readers have heard the story of the Englishman who was
travelling in China and who entered a restaurant to allay his hunger.
Unfortunately the attendant, John Chinaman, knew no English, nor
THE KITCHEN IN THE HOME.
399
did the Englishman talk Chinese. He signified by raps upon his
gastronomic region and a movement of the jaws which conveyed the
idea of eating and being hungry that he wanted some dinner. When
it was set before him he " fell to " with an appetite and thought it
the most delicious dish he had ever partaken of. Eager to know
what he was eating, but not knowing how to make himself under-
stood, he said to the Chinaman : " Quack, quacrk," meaning, " Is this
duck ? " for it tasted so to him. The Chinaman gravely shook his
head and replied : " Bow, wow," thus conveying to his hungry cus-
tomer the fact that it was dog. Such is the disguising power of made
gravy and sauces.
Page 252
Presented as published in 1883. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
by the housewife for letting her food spoil. To watch any object with undivided attention, even for a few minutes, is with the majority of persons a feat as difficult as the fabulous apple-shooting of William Tell. The mere consciousness that one has to do a thing prevents one's doing it. Those who doubt this have only to try to look into another person's eyes without moving a muscle, or laughing, winking or wavering for five minutes. Nine persons out of ten will fail, and they will fail because of the double process of attention and consciousness of attention. The conscious effort makes the failure. They could do the same thing for a much longer time if they were not trying to do it.
So with cooking: it is an easy thing to cook well, but it needs attention and pains, which few busy housewives or servants are willing to take. The joint may be only the ancient leg of mutton or rib of beef, but it needa frequent turning of position toward the fire that it may get equally roasted, and it needs frequent basting so that it may be brown and juicy. So, also, with making and baking a loaf of bread. It costs as much time and trouble to do it wrong and make it like a leaden lump, or to make it that most delicious of all bread food, far surpassing the richest cake, a perfect home-made cottage loaf with a " kissing crust," as children call it in some parts of the country.
If one is a thoroughly bad cook, as so many who profess to cook are, he or she should never attempt a perfectly simple dish, such as a roast joint or a broiled steak. These are too easily spoiled to bear any trifling. But let the bad cook confine him or herself to " made dishes," as they are called, in which the cook's hand is a hidden hand, and all sorts of flavorings disguise the maltreated meat. The Frenchman can serve you a dish of roast beef from the loins of a Paris cab-horse " retired from business," and "a donkey what wouldn't go" made into a curry will pass for venison. Many of my readers have heard the story of the Englishman who was travelling in China and who entered a restaurant to allay his hunger. Unfortunately the attendant, John Chinaman, knew no English, nor
THE KITCHEN IN THE HOME.
did the Englishman talk Chinese. He signified by raps upon his gastronomic region and a movement of the jaws which conveyed the idea of eating and being hungry that he wanted some dinner. When it was set before him he " fell to " with an appetite and thought it the most delicious dish he had ever partaken of. Eager to know what he was eating, but not knowing how to make himself understood, he said to the Chinaman : " Quack, quacrk," meaning, " Is this duck ? " for it tasted so to him. The Chinaman gravely shook his head and replied : " Bow, wow," thus conveying to his hungry customer the fact that it was dog. Such is the disguising power of made gravy and sauces.