Apricot
The old form of the name is apricock, and this is nearer the right word. The last two syllables are the first two of precocious, with the same meaning. It is a Latin word which went to Arabia, which was there used with the definite article-Al-precoc, like Al-koran and Algebra-which thence passed to Spain as Albarcoque, and came over to England as Apricock. We owe the fruit in England to a Catholic priest, named Wolfe, who became gardener to King Henry VIII. But the best of all our apricots, the Moorpark variety, came over much later. It was at one time called the Temple apricot, from an idea that we owe it to Sir William Temple. It was also called the Anson, because Lord Anson was supposed to have introduced it; but the probability is that it came over to Moorpark much later, when Lord Dunmore resided there. Architecture of the Table There is a great controversy, which is still undecided among the gardeners, whether it is or is not identical with the peach-apricot. It has a peculiarity in this that the stone is perforated, so that a pin can be passed through it. The aperture is not easy to find. It is in a small groove on the thin side, near the base. A very fine fruit, it scarcely deserves the name of Apricock-the early ripe for it does not ripen till the beginning or middle of August.
The apricot is cooked in all the ways prescribed for apples. There is the Charlotte of apricots with bread; there is the beignet, or fritter, of apricots with batter; there is the Condé of apricots with rice; and there is the pie or tart of apricots with pastry. Of all the English fruit pies or tarts, a green apricot one has long been deemed by far the finest; but Mr. Hayward will have it that a green apricot pudding is a much better thing. Of marmalades and compôtes it is needless to speak.
Carême took a great deal of pains to describe how apricots and other fruits may be boiled, passed through a hair sieve, and worked into a Bavarois-or Bavarian cheese. It is better, however, to keep the cream separate, according to one of Francatelli's receipts :- Apricot Jelly with Cream.-Put eighteen ripe apricots, from which the stones have been removed, into a preserving pan, with a pound of loaf sugar and a gill of spring water. Stir this on a brisk stove fire until all the fruit is dissolved. Rub it through a hair sieve, mix two ounces of clarified isinglass with it, and fill a jelly mould with it. When the jelly has set firm, turn it out on a dish, and fill the centre with whipped cream. So with pears, apples, and quinces.
ARCHITECTURE of the Table. This is a department of the art of cookery which has given rise to the grandest enthusiasm and to the gravest discussions. A dish should look tempting and a table should look brilliant; but when Architecture of the Table we peer into a kaleidoscope we have no desire to eat the variegated patterns; and it is not to be supposed that food will be more relished for being arranged as a landscape or a garden, or for being built into picturesque ruins and handsome statuary. There is something childish in this desire to make our edibles pictorial. It may be left to children to eat gingerbread kings and saccharine horses. Nevertheless a great cook, perhaps the greatest of this century-Carême, though he had other titles to our gratitude, is most of all famous for his picturesque pastry; and some of his structures may still be seen in the storerooms of the Tuilleries, if they were not burnt in 1871. It is a mistake, however, to suppose that Carême originated this kind of ornament. Horace Walpole describes how in the last century the Intendant of Gascony gave a magnificent banquet on the birth of the Duke of Burgundy. The centrepiece was covered with wax figures moved by clockwork, which at the conclusion of the feast were set in motion, and gave a representation of the labour of the Dauphiness and the happy birth of an heir to the monarchy. He also tells an anecdote of Lord Albemarle's cook in this country, who prepared a middle dish of gods and goddesses eighteen feet high, and complained bitterly because Lord Albemarle would not demolish the ceiling of his diningroom to make room for the gorgeous structure. In the previous century an English cook, Robert May, contrived an astonishing trophy-a ship with guns charged with veritable powder, and a castle of pies full of live frogs and birds. After the guns were fired the ladies were directed to take eggshells full of perfume and throw them at each other, "to sweeten the stink of powder." Then the lids were to be removed from the castle of pies; the frogs would jump out, making the ladies shriek; the birds would fly forth, putting out the candles; and nobody knows what kisses and struggles and pretty adventures might happen when the lights were out. When the candles were lit again, Arrowroot the company might proceed to the more serious business of mastication.
ARROWROOT is nothing but starch; and it has the same nutritive value as expressed in chemical symbols, however and wherever it is obtained. It contains, that is to say, in a hundred parts, eighteen of water and eighty-two of starch. This is a great fact for the grocers who sell one kind of arrowroot for another. There is absolutely no difference that can as yet be detected in the chemical constitution of the starch in each. There is another difference, however. It is clear to the microscopic eye in the size and form of granules belonging to one starch and to another. Still more, there is a marked difference in the taste and in the digestibility of the different kinds. An invalid can take the Bermuda and Jamaica arrowroots, made from the root of the Maranta arundinacea, when he can take no other. The other arrowroots-East Indian, Brazilian, Tahitan, British-may be wholesome enough, but they are made from different roots (British from potatoes), which are not to be compared with the true West Indian arrowroot, obtained from a root that was in close alliance, if not identical, with some supposed remedy for poisoned arrows.
Arrowroot Sauce is a lemon sauce, thickened with arrowroot.