The majority—even of those who are accustomed to fecep- tions and the giving of dinners—suppose that a certain routine alone is necessary, together with some culinary practice, in order to write a menu; and few imagine that a good deal more is needed than the mere inscription of Courses epee a slip of pasteboard. In reality the planning of these alimentary programmes is among the most difficult problems of our art, and it is in this very matter that perfection is so rarely reached. In the course of more than forty years’ experience as a chef, I have been responsible for thousands of menus, some of which have since become classical and have ranked among the finest served in modern times; and I can safely say, that in spite of the familiarity such a period of time ought to give one with the work, the setting-up of a presentable menu is rarely accom- plished without lengthy labour and much thought, and for all that the result is not always to my Satisfaction. From this it may be seen how slender are the claims of those who, without any knowledge of our art, and quite unaware of the various properties belonging to the substances we use, pretend to arrange a proper menu. However difficult the elaboration of a menu may be, it is but the first and by no means the only difficulty which results from the rapidity with which meals are served nowadays. The number of dishes set before the diners being considerably reduced, and the dishes themselves having been deprived of all the advantages which their sumptuous decorations formerly lent them, they must recover, by means of perfection and delicacy, sufficient in the way of quality to compensate for their dimin- ished bulk and reduced splendour. They must be faultless in regard to quality; they must be savoury and light. The choice of the raw material, therefore, is a matter demanding vast experience on the part of the chef; for the old French adage which says that ‘‘ La sauce fait passer le poisson’ has long since ceased to be true, and if one do not wish to court disapproba- tion—often well earned—the fish should not be in the slightest degree inferior to its accompanying sauce. While on the subject of raw material, I should like, en passant, to call attention to a misguided policy which seems to be spreading in private houses and even in some commercial establishments; I refer to the custom which, arising as it doubt- PREFACE 1X less does from a mistaken idea of economy, consists of entrusting the choice of kitchen provisions to people unacquainted with the profession, and who, never having used the goods which they have to buy, are able to judge only very superficially of their- quality or real value, and cannot form any estimate of their probable worth after the cooking process. If economy were verily the result of such a policy none would object to it. But the case is exactly the reverse; for, in the matter of provisions, as in all commercial matters, the cheapest is the dearest in the end. To obtain good results, good material in a sufficient quantity must be used, and, in order to obtain good material, the latter should be selected by the person who is going to use it, and who knows its qualities and properties. Amphitryons who set aside these essential prin- ciples may hope in vain to found a reputation for their tables.

AI-modernized reading of the original text

The majority—even of those who are accustomed to feceptions and the giving of dinners—suppose that a certain routine alone is necessary, together with some culinary practice, in order to write a menu; and few imagine that a good deal more is needed than the mere inscription of Courses on a slip of pasteboard. In reality the planning of these alimentary programmes is among the most difficult problems of our art, and it is in this very matter that perfection is so rarely reached. In the course of more than forty years’ experience as a chef, I have been responsible for thousands of menus, some of which have since become classical and have ranked among the finest served in modern times; and I can safely say, that in spite of the familiarity such a period of time ought to give one with the work, the setting-up of a presentable menu is rarely accomplished without lengthy labour and much thought, and for all that the result is not always to my Satisfaction. From this it may be seen how slender are the claims of those who, without any knowledge of our art, and quite unaware of the various properties belonging to the substances we use, pretend to arrange a proper menu. However difficult the elaboration of a menu may be, it is but the first and by no means the only difficulty which results from the rapidity with which meals are served nowadays. The number of dishes set before the diners being considerably reduced, and the dishes themselves having been deprived of all the advantages which their sumptuous decorations formerly lent them, they must recover, by means of perfection and delicacy, sufficient in the way of quality to compensate for their diminished bulk and reduced splendour. They must be faultless in regard to quality; they must be savoury and light. The choice of the raw material, therefore, is a matter demanding vast experience on the part of the chef; for the old French adage which says that ‘‘ La sauce fait passer le poisson’ has long since ceased to be true, and if one do not wish to court disapprobation—often well earned—the fish should not be in the slightest degree inferior to its accompanying sauce. While on the subject of raw material, I should like, en passant, to call attention to a misguided policy which seems to be spreading in private houses and even in some commercial establishments; I refer to the custom which, arising as it doubt- PREFACE 1X less does from a mistaken idea of economy, consists of entrusting the choice of kitchen provisions to people unacquainted with the profession, and who, never having used the goods which they have to buy, are able to judge only very superficially of their- quality or real value, and cannot form any estimate of their probable worth after the cooking process. If economy were verily the result of such a policy none would object to it. But the case is exactly the reverse; for, in the matter of provisions, as in all commercial matters, the cheapest is the dearest in the end. To obtain good results, good material in a sufficient quantity must be used, and, in order to obtain good material, the latter should be selected by the person who is going to use it, and who knows its qualities and properties. Amphitryons who set aside these essential principles may hope in vain to found a reputation for their tables.

A guide to modern cookery