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Dinner

We will first have a few words to say on that somewhat neglected English accompaniment, "appetisers." First appearances go a great way, and the cook should exercise all her art and taste in presenting that delicate organ, the stomach, with a bon bouche to induce it to throw out its gastric juice with no sparing hand, in order to dissolve and digest all the glories that are to follow. Perhaps the very best commencement to a good dinner is half a dozen native oysters--small, round, white, plump, and fat, and resting on a little shell black almost on the outside, but like mother-of-pearl when the delicious little fish has been swallowed. Brown bread and butter is often served with oysters; but when taken as an appetiser at the commencement of dinner they should be eaten quite alone--no pepper, no vinegar, etc. Little natives are excellent appetisers: the large coarse oysters, though admirably adapted for stewing and for a variety of cooking purposes, have rather a contrary effect. It is customary to have little dishes of what we term ho?s d'oeuvres placed in front of each person. I will mention a few of the best:--Olives, sardines, pieces of Dutch herring, filleted anchovies, capers, and small radishes. There is one little appetiser, so pretty and yet so effective, and so admirably adapted to commence a dinner, that I will describe it. First cut out some small round pieces of stale bread the size of small draughtsmen, and fry them of a nice golden-brown colour in some lard, and allow them to get cold. Next stone some olives neatly, and fillet and carefully wash some anchovies. Roll up the filleted anchovies into a little ball, and fill the stoned olives with them. Next place a little drop of mayonnaise sauce, about the size of the top of the little finger, in the centre of each round of fried bread, and place the stoned olive filled with the filleted anchovy on it on end; the mayonnaise sauce, if made properly--viz. as thick as butter--assisting to keep the olive upright. Then place on the top of the olive another little drop (very small) of mayonnaise sauce. The whole should be eaten at one mouthful. The mingled taste of the anchovy and olive, moistened as it is with the mayonnaise sauce, is exceedingly delicious, the crisp fried bread assisting to bring out the flavour.

These pretty little appetisers may be handed round, and a little highly-flavoured aspic jelly may be placed by way of garnish on the dish with them.

We next come to the soup, which we presume the cook to have prepared the day before it is wanted. As a rule, it will always be found best to have clear soup, i.e. if only one soup is supplied. A thick soup at the commencement of dinner is too heavy, and is apt to spoil the appetite for what is to follow. For instance, thick mock-turtle or thick ox-tail soup are admirable for lunch, but at dinner are far better clear than thick. Should there be two soups, of course one should be clear and the other thick; but, as a rule, even then the thick soup should be in the form of a white soup or a bisque, rather than a thick soup that owes its thickness to brown roux. Clear turtle is far superior to thick, both in flavour and in the fact that it does not take away the appetite so readily.

Next follows the fish. If only one kind is served at dinner, regard should be had to what goes before and what comes after. For instance, a rich soup had better be followed by a plain fish. Indeed, the great principle to be constantly borne in mind in ordering a dinner is to avoid a succession of rich things, and also to avoid a repetition of the same flavour. For instance, it is obvious to anyone how exceedingly disagreeable three dishes would be running as follows:--Bisque of lobster for soup, turbot and lobster sauce for fish, and lobster patties for an entree. Still, it will often be found that codfish and oyster-sauce are immediately followed by oyster patties. Some repetition of flavour during a dinner is, however, unavoidable. Suppose, then, in a dinner where there are four entrees, you have lobster sauce with the fish, the same lobster that made the sauce will, in addition, make a very nice dish of lobster cutlets. Warn the servants, however, in handing the entrees to take round the lobster cutlets last of all, so that there is a choice of three different dishes between the lobster sauce and the lobster cutlets. Too often in small houses, where the extent of kitchen range and kitchen utensils is necessarily limited, when delay or confusion arises in a dinner, it is owing to a want of forethought in those who order the dinner. The dinner should so be ordered that at any rate a certain number of the dishes can be prepared and finished beforehand. Again--and such cases are very numerous--where, perhaps, there is only one servant to wait, regard should be had to the dishes ordered. For instance, contrast the trouble to both cook and waiter given by the two fishes--boiled salmon and stewed eels. The stewed eels can be prepared and finished early in the day, and simply require putting into a hot dish. In serving the stewed eels, the waiter has merely to go once to each person. With regard to salmon, it must be, of course, boiled at the last moment; it also requires some fish sauce, as well as cucumber. In addition, therefore, to taking the fish to each person, there is the sauce to be handed, as well as the cucumber, and, probably, in addition to the last sauce, many will ask for some anchovy sauce, or cayenne pepper, etc.; the one waiter will get muddled, and forget to take round the wine.

I do not mean that this is necessarily the case; but when persons give little dinners, and know that their servants are not altogether first class, a little forethought in ordering will often save an infinity of trouble. It is, indeed, quite possible to order a dinner, and a small one too, that implies so many saucepans in use at once that the establishment is not equal to the task, nor the fireplace large enough to hold the saucepans, even were they in sufficient quantity. Avoid, also, in ordering dinner, to have too many entrees or other dishes that can only be done at the last moment. For instance, fried oysters, kromeskies, mutton-cutlets, and a savoury omelet, would be a sore trial to a cook were they ordered as four entrees together. The probable result would be that the kromeskies and fried oysters would be cooked before and warmed up in the oven, and in consequence the outsides of the kromeskies would be heavy and the oysters tough. The cutlets would also be cooked and kept warm for a time. Now of all dishes there is probably none so dependent on immediate serving as cutlets. Warmed-up cutlets are never fit to eat. Indeed, the cook should never begin to cook cutlets till three or four minutes before they are wanted. They should be red and juicy inside, or they are not worth eating. A nice mutton cutlet--i.e. as I have said, red inside and not blue, and black out--is a certain sign that the cook is a good one.

No dinner can be properly served unless there is a perfectly good understanding between the cook and those waiting at table. It will be found very desirable for the cook to arrange beforehand some signal with those upstairs, in order that she may know when to commence getting any particular dish ready. It is so easy for those waiting to touch the dining-room bell in order to warn the cook. Too often the cook, from over-anxiety, will become fidgety, and get everything ready too soon, the result being a series of over-cooked dishes, either half cold or having that warmed-up taste which so often spoils them. It is far better at dinner to have occasional pauses than to have a series of spoilt dishes. Indeed, a little management on the part of the host or hostess will very often smooth over these awful pauses in the middle of dinner. A little intentional delay over eating what was last handed and a brisk conversation are great helps. The wine can also always be taken round while waiting for the cook to send up the next dish. In fact, after persons have had some soup or fish and an entree, a pause is rather agreeable than otherwise, unless it is accompanied by a dead silence, which makes everybody uncomfortable.

Probably the most constant failure at dinner-parties--I use the expression in distinction to everyday dinners--is the piece de resistance. Cooks will hurry with the joint. How often will it be seen that the joint is placed on the table immediately the fish is removed, and there kept till all the entrees have been handed round and eaten and the plates removed! In addition to this, probably the cook took the joint off the spit or out of the oven long before it was even sent to table. Indeed, I have known cooks take down the joint because, they said, they wanted to get at the fire. The consequence is that when the cover is removed no steam rises, the meat is warm, but not hot, and alas! alas! the gravy in the well of the dish is caked over with an icy sheet of fat. In fact, the joint is not worth eating. What should happen is, that after the last entree has been eaten, and a hot plate put round to each person, the joint should arrive. Never mind waiting even two or three minutes; when the cover is lifted, the rush of steam--for we presume a hot and a really hot cover--will more than make amends for the slight delay. A nice hot haunch or leg of mutton with the gravy in it red and that outside steaming is one of the nicest dishes sent to table. On the other hand, lukewarm, flabby mutton and cold gravy are absolutely disagreeable. Nothing spoils a dinner more than the feeling that the roof of the mouth has got, so to speak, encrusted in mutton fat.

Now, sending a joint up to table as we have said, hot and at the right moment, requires management and forethought, and very often the cook does not possess either of these requirements. The mistress of the house, when she finds the cook wanting in these respects, should take the responsibility on herself. Indeed, sometimes it is necessary to give positive orders with regard to the joint being taken down. The cook may be fussing downstairs in the firm belief that she will be all behindhand, and that the people above will be kept waiting. However, let her fuss, but obey her orders, and not take the joint off the spit till she hears the bell ring. After one or two successful results, the cook will herself see how feasible it is to wait, and she may be rewarded afterwards, perhaps, by hearing from the neighbours' servants that their master or mistress has said they like dining at Mr.----'s--the dinner always comes up so nice and hot.

We have before called attention to the fact that in nearly all private houses at dinner-parties the game is invariably over-cooked. What cooks should do, is to endeavour to learn by experience. For instance, let every cook, when she sends up the soup, look at the kitchen clock--suppose the dinner is for ten persons, and that it consists of soup, fish, four entrees, two joints, and game. Let her then again look at the kitchen clock when the game is asked for, and act accordingly another time. It is quite impossible to lay down any exact rule for the length of a dinner, which indeed varies, some houses being always--I don't know why--quicker than others. Perhaps the difference is dependent on the host's conversational powers.

The success of dinner very much depends upon the forethought of those who wait. First, let the cloth be laid a good hour before dinner, and let the waiter remember this one great principle of success--Let everything required be in the room if possible beforehand. No dinner can be successful when the waiter or waiter or waitress has first to run downstairs to get some more bread, then to disappear again for the red-currant jelly to hand with the mutton, or the mustard with the beef, and so on throughout the dinner. It is so easy to look ahead. Again, it is shocking bad management to have to open fresh sherry in the middle of the meal. If champagne be served, either have enough or don't give any. I consider one bottle of champagne sent round for eight or ten persons far worse than giving none at all. Have also the wires of the champagne bottles taken off beforehand--it saves time. It also saves time to put a good-sized piece of bread to each person at starting. It is quite ridiculous to see what small pieces of bread, or what tiny rolls, are put round at some houses. Some persons' dinners are quite spoilt for the want of bread, and bread is one of those things that even good waiters are very apt to forget to hand of their own accord. It is not pleasant at dinner, unless you are very intimate with the people, to have to ask for things. Let each person remember in how many instances their dinner has been spoilt by the want of bread, and at any rate resolve that in their own houses they will take precautions not to spoil the dinners of their guests. It is a good plan to tell the waiter to hand round some bread early in the repast, and have it cut up, some large pieces, and some small. Some persons are what may be termed greedy bread-eaters, and by this means you give them a chance to help themselves. It is exceedingly annoying to have a nice piece of partridge or woodcock getting cold on one's plate, and to see it and smell it while waiting for bread.

It will always, too, be advisable to have the bread so kept that it is what may be called a happy medium between being too new and too dry. New bread should never be eaten with meat, as it is exceedingly indigestible. The meat in sandwiches which is cut from new bread is apt to turn bad very quickly, and it will be found that new bread eaten at dinner has the unpleasant tendency of causing the dinner to disagree.

One very important point essential to the good order of a dinner is that the cook or head-waiter should calculate beforehand the probable number of plates, knives, and forks that will be required, and to be prepared, so that the supply of either does not fail. We will take the ordinary and simple case of a dinner-party of twelve persons, the dinner consisting of soup and fish, four entrees, two joints--say, roast beef and boiled fowl--game, and sweets--the latter being pie and pudding--and four side dishes.

Now there are probably very few establishments that would be capable of going through a dinner of this description without washing up some things during the time it is actually proceeding. First, there will be required twelve soup plates and twelve dessert-spoons. Now, unless the plate chest is of an unusual magnitude, these same dessert-spoons will probably be again required for the sweets, as should these latter be at all of good quality a relay of spoons may very possibly be required for them. But it is the large forks that will be found to require the greatest care. For instance, supposing in the dinner we have mentioned that each person takes fish, two entrees, a slice off one of the joints, and some game--a fair average, we believe, of what ordinary healthy people would eat. This means sixty large silver forks, and probably the establishment only boasts twenty-four. What is universally done, even at large public dinners, is for the forks to be quickly washed immediately they are taken out of the room. For this purpose there should be two good-sized jugs outside the dining-room door, one containing hot soda and water, and the other plain cold water; also there should be handy a couple of cloths. As the forks are cleared away, let them be first wiped on a dishcloth, then plunged into the hot soda and water, and shaken backwards and forwards for a few seconds, and then plunged into the cold water and again rinsed, and then dried on a clean cloth. A dozen forks can by this means be washed under a minute. Now exactly the same principle applies to the plates as to the forks, only these latter, of course, must be washed up downstairs. In the dinner in question, sixty large plates would be as requisite as the sixty large forks. Should there be therefore two persons waiting at table, another person acting as a messenger between the dining-room and kitchen and the cook downstairs; if each and every one of these persons understands his and her duty, there should be no delay, no confusion, and above all no talking or whispering on the part of those waiting. The cook downstairs should have ready at the commencement of the meal two large tubs, one full of hot water with plenty of soda in it, the other full of plain hot water. The plates should be treated just like the forks, first scraped or wiped--the former is the best, and there are indiarubber combs sold for the purpose--next plunged into the hot soda and water, and again wiped with a dishcloth; then rinsed for a few seconds in the hot water without soda, and then allowed to drain on the rack, or they may be quickly wiped. In washing up in the ordinary method, it is customary to wash the plates in hot soda and water first, and then rinse them in cold water. In washing up, however, during dinner, recollect it is necessary that the plates should be hot. Consequently, by rinsing them in hot water to get rid of the soda and water the temperature of the plates is maintained, though, of course, if there is sufficient time it will be advisable to stand the plates on the plate-warmer.