264 COOKERY OF THE PARTRIDGE 
Fawssett (for whom, on the contrary, I have a great 
respect), I should dwell ona fatal little avowal of hers 
in reference to another preparation—partridge salmis 
—that ‘if you have not quite enough partridge, some 
cunningly cut mutton will taste just the same.’ No 
doubt most meat will ‘taste just the same’ in this sort 
of cookery ; but salmis of partridge when well made 
is such a good thing that nobody need be angry at 
its being surreptitiously ‘extended’ in this fashion. 
Salmis ot partridge, indeed, comes, I think, next to 
salmis of grouse and salmis of wild duck. It is in- 
finitely better than salmis of pheasant, which is con- 
fusion ; and, like other salmis, it is by no means always 
or even very often done as it ought to be done by 
English cooks. There are two mistakes as to dishes 
of this kind into which these excellent persons are 
wont to fall. The first is te make the liquid part of 
the preparation—call it sauce, gravy, or what you 
please—too liquid, and, so to speak, too detached from 
the solid. The second is to procure body and flavour 
by the detestable compounds known as ‘browning’ 
or by illegitimate admixture of ready-made sauces. 
Ina proper salmis (which, it ought not to be necessary 
to say, can only be made with red wine, though some 
English books desperately persevere in recommending 
‘sherry ’ for such purposes), the gravy should be quite 
