THE TROPICAL AGRICULTURIST. [November I, 1887. 
secure but half that custom, and were satisfied with 
a profit of but 2 annas per lb. for all bulked teas below 
pekoe-souchong such a trade would prove remuner- 
ative, and if the scheme were expanded throughout 
the country, it is quite within the reasonable bounds 
of possibility that this trade might be doubled. 
Of course, all this means the expenditure of 
money, and situated as the greater portion of the 
tea interest is at present, funds I fear, are net avail- 
able, and as the tea. must be put within reach of the 
class of customers to be secured at a very low rate 
it will uot bear half-a-dozen profits. But the initial 
cost need not exceed. £1,000 ; and as I believe I am 
correct in stating that "Lockharts" established their 
business upon the principle of devoting the profits 
of one shop, as they matured, to defraying the oost 
of opening others, the adopting of a similar plan by 
the Tea Association should, if properly con dusted, 
prove equally tuccessful. Lockhart's business is assum- 
ing quite gigantic proportions. Then, with regard to 
the country trade among farmers and small holders, 
it muBt be prosecuted, not by the ordinary 'traveller 
of the day,' but by veritable pedlar's carts or trucks 
and though the idea may provoke ridicule among 
some, the comfortable incomes derived by itinerant 
vendors of articles of daily consumption, who supdy 
requirements at the very door of the customers, in 
our outlying villages and agricultural districts generally 
tend to prove that the country trade would prove as 
profitable as the town one, even though it were 
necessary, in the latter case* at the outset, to dis- 
tribute samples gratuitously. Both ideas are not new, 
but were sketched out, much on the same lines as 
I have indicated, so far back as 1871, and again 
urged upon the tea community in the Statesman, 
eight years later. At any rate, with increasing yield 
from our plantations — though the roaming a-field to 
Australia, America, and elsewhere, for fresh markets 
is commendable enough, — those entrusted with pro- 
moting ihe increase of the consumption of India tea 
would do well not to ignore the markets afforded by 
the neighbourhoods I have, drawn attention to. — Tka- 
Pl-ANTtR. — Indian Agriculturist, Sept. 24th. 
TOMATOES. 
" Apples of Paradise !" say the Germans ; " love- 
apples " say the English and Italians. Why " love " 
apples? who has ever explained? whilst the Para- 
disian theory has its reason. There exist old prints 
of the sixteenth century in Germany in which Eve 
is represented on tiptoe trying to reach a bough 
of tomatoes twining round a very tall oak, and 
certain Teutonic doctors of that age have affirmed 
that this Farrt'diexapfel was none other than the 
apple of our fate. 
Be it so ; it has remained for us miserable sinners 
one of the most universal agents of gastronomy. 
The tomato is absolutely an element of perfection, 
for there is scarcely anything that it does not com- 
plete. Only, you must know what to do with it ; 
which is precisely what very few people do. In the 
riist place you must wait for it, tor a half-ripe 
1 i-wmt d" amour is a squashy and an unwholesome 
thug Unless in Spain or in Provence, your tomaio 
is as cairicious as a pastcque, and depends on all 
lie accidents of climate. It is essentially a sun- 
abrnibent, and is capable of no end of vagaries if 
ii s direct contact with Phoebus be intercepted or if 
the muddy rains of northern lands have presumed 
to wash its mddy face. It comes from Persia, and 
hankers after its old birthplace. Spain and Pro- 
vence are its genuine homes in Europe, because it 
in best phased with bleak heat, which you can 
enjoy lo your heart's content in either region. 
When " contrairy," as it shows itself nine times 
out of ten in what are termed temperate atmos- 
\il\eve», it. is addicted to taking you in in an ex- 
j< ji'ly j jovoking manner. It will lie to all ap- 
pearance lovingly enough upon the trclliged wall 
to which it clings, and turn to you a nice plump, 
shining, crimson cushion that suggests a triumphal 
adaptation to the proper " stuffing ;" but when you 
have detached it from its resting-place you find 
that it has only been turning on its protector a 
hard, knobby, yellow surface, indicative of a sour 
and discontented disposition. Throw it away— there 
is nothing to be made of it — and send for ths 
" real thing " (by express train, mind) either from 
Seville or Vaueluse. It will arrive with its bloom 
on it, as do tigs now from Marseilles — none of the 
" shine taken out of it." 
Now granted you have got it, what — in your 
rough imperfect science of the treatments of 
the divine fruit — what are you, or what is 
your cook, going to do with it ? Boil it prob- 
ably, fancying that with a few herbs etc., 
it will make itself into " sauce ; " for that is 
the word with which heathens profane the virtue 
of the tomato. " Mostly employed in sauces " — 
that is copied textually from several of their abomi- 
nably heretical books. The tomato is no adjunct, 
but a substantive, an esculent, standing by itself 
and requiring due homage to be paid to it by the 
creature who has the honour of eating it. 
There are two modes of adapting the use of 
the tomato to man — the hot and the cold. For 
the latter the Spaniard is supreme ; but the Pro- 
vencal alone knows how to dress it hot. The 
people of Bordeaux (where all the women are 
born e«oks) imagine they can supply you with a 
dish of stuffed tomatoes. It is a mistake. Firstly, 
their soft, often hazy, south-western climate does 
not furnish the fruit ; secondly, they have not the 
oil ; and thirdly, they have not the " trick " of it. 
No ! there are a few things for which you must 
go to Provence (of which Messer Francesco Petrarca 
— a rare gourmet in his day — was well aware). 
You must go to Aix for its oil, to Barbantane for 
its asparagus, to Cavaillon for its aubergines and 
its melons — those Sir John Falstaffs of the kitchen- 
garden ; to the Fontaine de Vaucluse for its eels 
and its fat lecque-figues ; but to Avignon for its 
tomatoes farcies. This dish is the business of a 
day. First take a shallow copper tourtiere and see 
how many tomatoes of equal size will fit into it, 
very close together. Next take out each tomato, 
cut off one-third of the upper part, and put it 
(face downwards) into a plate upon a pinch of 
strewn salt. Leave the fruit for about three hours, 
until all the acid juice shall have exuded. This 
prevents the stupid complaint of ignoramuses, that 
" tomatoes are unwholesome, and they are afraid 
of them." When all the "vice" has been taken 
out of them, range your "apples" in the tourtiire, 
with a teaspoonful of oil at the bottom to keep 
them moist and then delicately apply to each one 
a light covering of the forcemeat described below 
introducing the wee-est portion of it into the 
orifices of the cut fruit. When this is complete, 
set it on a charcoal-fire covered over with 
ashes, and let it stew gently till it is ready to 
serve. The time usually required is two hours or 
two hours and a half. 
The " stuffing " consists of yolk aDd white of 
eggs boiled hard, of tarragon and chervil, of bread- 
crumbs (sifted), of an onion or two (cooked), of a 
spice of garlic, the whole well chopped and mixed 
together (not till it is a paste), and atlast having some 
grated Gruyere cheese (de premiere qua h'te) added on 
to it. All this "stuffing" must be so delicately spread 
over the tomatoes that it forms a manner of 
light crust ; and previously to being carried to 
table it must be cunningly "browned" by a very 
skilful hand. The whole time of its stewing it 
has to be unremittingly watched ; for if it gets dry 
oil must be gently dropped in, and if a danger 
