Sorrel
The French eat a great deal of sorrel, not merely because it is pleasant to the taste, but because they think it must be good for the health. More than any other people in Europe, they have preserved among them the Sorrel ancient habit of looking to the medicinal value of their food. Most of us eat nowadays to satisfy hunger, or to tickle the palate, whereas our fathers saw a medical virtue in every beast of the field and in every herb that grows. The French keep up this old-world style, and have books which tell them the healing properties and the digestive capabilities of every morsel which enters their mouths. They are a healthy people; but one would imagine them to be sickly from the way they cherish a potage de santé, and study the effects of dishes on every organ of their frames. They have a grand idea that the best way to secure health is to stimulate the alimentary system into violent action. This is a little too suggestive of the African tribes mentioned by Sir Samuel Baker, who believed in Holloway's Pills because of their rapid and irrepressible results; but it is interesting to see the similarity of human nature at opposite poles of culture-the savage and the civilised. In the old herbal system, and in the French practice of the present day, sorrel is much prized for its cooling and cleansing virtues. It may be excellent in this way; but the medical botanists of our day point out that the acid of sorrel-oxalic acid-is a poison, and that too much sorrel cannot be eaten with impunity. Majendie has pointed out that the frequent consumption of oxalic plants by persons disposed to calculous diseases is dangerous, as they tend to produce the mulberry or oxalate of lime calculus, which is not only the most painful of all the stones found in the human bladder, but also the most insidious-not giving the usual signs of alarm beforehand. Pereira has with great caution confirmed this-only saying that the use of sorrel may, under some circumstances, dispose to the formation of mulberry calculi. This is no reason why sorrel should be forbidden. In small quantities, as a last flavouring to soups and sauces, it is harmless, and especially in the more delicate form of woodsorrel. But the French will eat it as a dish oy itself; taking a whole Soubise peck of the leaves to make a purée to go with a fricandeau of veal or with poached eggs. We all like some acid to go with our veal, and sorrel is a favourite accompaniment of certain fish; but after all there is no acid comparable to lemon-juice for delicacy of flavour and for wholesomeness. Let us reserve sorrel for Bonne Femme soup and woodsorrel for Julienne.