20 French Cookery. [July, 



chestnuts form a culinary resource ; and also those willing artichokes, 

 which, in lending themselves to the caprices of the artiste, now sport 

 it, as a hors-d'oeuvre ; now shine, as an entremet ; and sometimes (per- 

 haps too often) run a race of glory even with an entree itself. 



In October culinary prospects begin to brighten. The sea, in recover- 

 ing from the lassitude occasioned by the heat of summer, flings on its 

 surface the shame-faced and modest whiting, whose debut is crowned 

 with an honourable and encouraging success. Beef, too, begins to 

 acquire a respectable and continued rotundity ; and mutton and veal 

 obtain that conscientious appreciation, which, when good, they unques- 

 tionably deserve. 



In November, fresh herrings first make their appearance ; but it 

 grieveth us to think they are not held in just appreciation by the great 

 and little vulgar. Endowed with the most edifying modesty, the her- 

 ring does not glorify himself; but, like the violet, he hides his head, 

 and is only betrayed by his perfume. In this month turkeys arrive at 

 " men's estate," and may be, therefore, eaten " at discretion." 



In December, butchers' meat, game, poultry, and vegetables, are all 

 excellent. The golden plover and the lapwing again appear, " plei7is 

 de sue et de saveur.'' Thus is Christmas ushered in with circumstances 

 the most favourable — " aiix plaisirs de la bonne chere." 



Thus have we gone the round of the whole year, and pointed out the 

 products of the months of which it is composed. The most important 

 task, however, yet remains to us. We have spoken merely of the " raw 

 material" of "^ edibles;" but we have said little or nothing regarding 

 them in the "manufactured" state. It first behoves us, however, to 

 define what a dinner is. A dinner, then, is composed of four courses, 

 or, as a Frenchman would say, " de quatre services."' The first course 

 ought to present a solid and obstinate resistance ; because it is sup- 

 posed to be assailed by hungering jaws and a virgin appetite. This 

 course consists of releves and entries. The roasts are escorted by sal- 

 lads, as a kind of household troop ; and some complimentary vegetables 

 give us their presence as a kind of honorary body-guard to the second 

 service. The cntreinets, which grace the third course, appear with an 

 aerial agihty, attaining the eminence of the salle a manger, as it 

 were, in a bound, range themselves round some grave and imposing 

 dish, with a courteous acquiescence, and a deep sense of profound vene- 

 ration. After this comes the dessert, " to greet the eyes and glad the 

 heart" of jessamy men and languishing women. It should be observed, 

 however, that the " hor.s-d' ceuvre" remain on the table till the third 

 course. They are the culinary stone on which the appetite is whetted. 

 Nor must the attendants forget, that at each act of the nutritive drama, 

 the table, like the stage, should be entirely denuded ; but the pause, as 

 Hamlet says, should be " exceeding brief." The servants retire after 

 the entremets. At the dessert, each guest serves himself according to 

 his taste ; and those whose views extend beyond their reach, pray their 

 neighbours to lend a helping hand. 



This is the definition, and these are the maxims in whose spirit 

 it should be demolished. It is needful, however, that we should 

 speak of the manner in which the materiel should be dressed, and 

 served — that we should say what soups are most sanative — what rotis 

 the most renowned, and what salmis the most seductive ; but previously 

 a grave question arises — should oysters be eaten before soup.^ The 



