Colbert's Sole
The great French minister who organised the financial system under which, to a very large extent, France still exists, would seem to have a surer title to fame in the soup and the fish which he admired than in all his toils of office. So it has been from time immemorial, to the frustration of human effort. A man's greatest works, in which he took pride, perish, and he lives by some trifle of which he thought nothing; for the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong. What is great indeed and what is little we know not; and time makes wonderful havoc in our estimate of magnitudes. The sole of Colbert is now of a surety more to mankind than all his statesmanship.
It is a fried sole, which after being cooked is boned and then filled with maître d'hôtel butter and with lemonjuice. Trim the sole well, removing the head, a good part of the tail, and the black skin. On the side from which the skin has been removed make a slit down the backbone; slide the knife in so as to sever as much as possible the flesh from the ribs, and with the handle of the knife break the backbone in several places, so as to render it easy of removal after the fish is cooked. The sole is then to be fried in the ordinary way; when fried and drained the bones will come away without trouble; the inside of the fish is to be filled with maître d'hôtel butter into which lemon-juice has been worked; and it is to be sent to table with slices of lemon and fried parsley. The sole of Colbert typified his taxes. He ate his fish without bones, and the Government devoured his taxes without a thought of the groans which had been wrung out of them.