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of him who proves it, or of him who believes it. In some countries,



this stuff is eaten by choice; in England only dire need can compel

to its consumption. Lentils and haricots are not merely insipid;



frequent use of them causes something like nausea. Preach and

tabulate as you will, the English palate--which is the supreme



judge--rejects this farinaceous makeshift. Even as it rejects

vegetables without the natural concomitant of meat; as it rejects



oatmeal-porridge and griddle-cakes for a mid-day meal; as it rejects

lemonade and ginger-ale offered as substitutes for honest beer.



What is the intellectual and moral state of that man who really

believes that chemicalanalysis can be an equivalent for natural



gusto?--I will get more nourishment out of an inch of right

Cambridge sausage; aye, out of a couple of ounces of honest tripe;



than can be yielded me by half a hundredweight of the best lentils

ever grown.



X

Talking of vegetables, can the inhabited globe offer anything to vie



with the English potato justly steamed? I do not say that it is

always--or often--to be seen on our tables, for the steaming of a



potato is one of the great achievements of culinary art; but, when

it IS set before you, how flesh and spirit exult! A modest palate



will find more than simple comfort in your boiled potato of every

day, as served in the decent household. New or old, it is beyond



challenge delectable. Try to think that civilized nations exist to

whom this food is unknown--nay, who speak of it, on hearsay, with



contempt! Such critics, little as they suspect it, never ate a

potato in their lives. What they have swallowed under that name was



the vegetable with all its exquisite characteristics vulgarized or

destroyed. Picture the "ball of flour" (as old-fashioned housewives



call it) lying in the dish, diffusing the softest, subtlest aroma,

ready to crumble, all but to melt, as soon as it is touched; recall



its gust and its after-gust, blending so consummately with that of

the joint, hot or cold. Then think of the same potato cooked in any



other way, and what sadness will come upon you!

XI



It angers me to pass a grocer's shop, and see in the window a

display of foreign butter. This is the kind of thing that makes one



gloom over the prospects of England. The deterioration of English

butter is one of the worst signs of the moral state of our people.



Naturally, this article of food would at once betray a decline in

the virtues of its maker; butter must be a subject of the dairyman's



honest pride, or there is no hope of its goodness. Begin to save

your labour, to aim at dishonest profits, to feel disgust or



contempt for your work--and the churn declares every one of these

vices. They must be very prevalent, for it is getting to be a rare



thing to eat English butter which is even tolerable. What! England

dependent for dairy-produce upon France, Denmark, America? Had we



but one true statesman--but one genuine leader of the people--the

ears of English landowners and farmers would ring and tingle with



this proof of their imbecility.

Nobody cares. Who cares for anything but the show and bluster which



are threatening our ruin? English food, not long ago the best in

the world, is falling off in quality, and even our national genius



for cooking shows a decline; to anyone who knows England, these are

facts significant enough. Foolish persons have prated about "our



insular cuisine," demanding its reform on Continental models, and

they have found too many like unto themselves who were ready to



listen; the result will be, before long, that our excellence will be

forgotten, and paltry methods be universally introduced, together



with the indifferent viands to which they are suited. Yet, if any

generality at all be true, it is a plain fact that English diet and



English virtue--in the largest sense of the word--are inseparably

bound together.



Our supremacy in this matter of the table came with little taking of

thought; what we should now do is to reflect upon the things which



used to be instinctive, perceive the reasons of our excellence, and

set to work to re-establish it. Of course the vilest cooking in the






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