by French methods. We like the eifort, but decline the argument by which it is ushered in. It professes to arise from a wish to put a check on what they term the fearful loaste in English kitchens. Of course this does not mean waste in the kitchens of the wealthy, but in the establish- ments of those who have reason to avoid waste of every kind. And when we proceed to investigate the items of the alleged waste, we find them to consist of stale lumps of bread, bacon-rind, and bare bones of boiled or roast joints. It is seventy years since Louis Proust proved by scientific inquiry that bones contribute nothing useful to bouillon, and he concluded his argument with the exclamation, ‘ Voila com me les os font du bouillon ’ ! And here they are again like the ever-returning Crispinus. We shall below prove at length, after Proust, the complete fallacy of the proposition that bones could either make or help to make such a liquid as could have any value in cookery. We shall prove that the boiling of bones as contemplated by the so-called economists is neither economical, nor typically French, nor based on sound doctrine in any sense. This is by no means equivalent to flogging a dead horse, when* it is considered that this lamenting about alleged English extravagance, and praising of alleged French thrift, has become a standing exercise of aspirants to culinary authorship, so that even a prominent medical journal could publish the following : ‘ The French cook makes excellent and nutritious soup out of materials which the English housewife throws away as useless ; while her pot-au-fm is composed of stray scraps carefully husbanded, which cost her nothing, but which, when skilfully combined, constitute a useful and inexpen- sive food.’ This is the acme of misrepresentation of economical! French cookery — of stray scraps, costing, nothing. Such cookery of scraps is not only not feasible, but its allegation is merely degrading. Even the simplest; OBJECTS AND RESULTS OF COOKERY 19 cookery, and all cookery whatsoever, requires in the first place soiincl materials costing money, and such only are worth the trouble of cooking and expense of the fire ; ‘ scraps ’ are accidents to be taken care of, no doubt, but the very last objects on which to bestow either expense or labour, or on which to waste words in cookery-books or elsewhere. Let no one think that the danger of these errors is small, for now they have crept into public schools, and are taught systematically. I quote from an article ‘ On Housekeeping Schools,’ by Mrs., now Lady, Priestley, in No. 188 of the Nineteenth Century BevieiVi October, 1892, p. 659, the following experience : ‘ Being curious to know how simple cookery was taught in our Board Schools, I dropped in upon a demonstration class one day, and found the making of “ potato-soup ” and “how to heat up cold meat” on the programme of the day. A girl was singled out to say how potato-soup should be made. The answer was : ‘ “ You must chop up your bones, or cut up your meat, to draw out the nutriment.” ‘ Mistress ; “ Surely there’s a better word than nutriment, isn’t there ?” ‘ Girls : “ Yes, mistress.” And up went all hands. ‘ Mistress : “ What is it, then?”

AI-modernized reading of the original text

by French methods. We like the effort, but decline the argument by which it is ushered in. It professes to arise from a wish to put a check on what they term the fearful waste in English kitchens. Of course this does not mean waste in the kitchens of the wealthy, but in the establishments of those who have reason to avoid waste of every kind. And when we proceed to investigate the items of the alleged waste, we find them to consist of stale lumps of bread, bacon-rind, and bare bones of boiled or roast joints. It is seventy years since Louis Proust proved by scientific inquiry that bones contribute nothing useful to bouillon, and he concluded his argument with the exclamation, ‘ Voila com me les os font du bouillon ’ ! And here they are again like the ever-returning Crispinus. We shall below prove at length, after Proust, the complete fallacy of the proposition that bones could either make or help to make such a liquid as could have any value in cookery. We shall prove that the boiling of bones as contemplated by the so-called economists is neither economical, nor typically French, nor based on sound doctrine in any sense. This is by no means equivalent to flogging a dead horse, when* it is considered that this lamenting about alleged English extravagance, and praising of alleged French thrift, has become a standing exercise of aspirants to culinary authorship, so that even a prominent medical journal could publish the following : ‘ The French cook makes excellent and nutritious soup out of materials which the English housewife throws away as useless ; while her pot-au-fm is composed of stray scraps carefully husbanded, which cost her nothing, but which, when skilfully combined, constitute a useful and inexpensive food.’ This is the acme of misrepresentation of economical! French cookery — of stray scraps, costing, nothing. Such cookery of scraps is not only not feasible, but its allegation is merely degrading. Even the simplest; cookery, and all cookery whatsoever, requires in the first place soiincl materials costing money, and such only are worth the trouble of cooking and expense of the fire ; ‘ scraps ’ are accidents to be taken care of, no doubt, but the very last objects on which to bestow either expense or labour, or on which to waste words in cookery-books or elsewhere. Let no one think that the danger of these errors is small, for now they have crept into public schools, and are taught systematically. I quote from an article ‘ On Housekeeping Schools,’ by Mrs., now Lady, Priestley, in No. 188 of the Nineteenth Century BevieiVi October, 1892, p. 659, the following experience : ‘ Being curious to know how simple cookery was taught in our Board Schools, I dropped in upon a demonstration class one day, and found the making of “ potato-soup ” and “how to heat up cold meat” on the programme of the day. A girl was singled out to say how potato-soup should be made. The answer was : ‘ “ You must chop up your bones, or cut up your meat, to draw out the nutriment.” ‘ Mistress ; “ Surely there’s a better word than nutriment, isn’t there ?” ‘ Girls : “ Yes, mistress.” And up went all hands. ‘ Mistress : “ What is it, then?”

The spirit of cookery