he always clung to the culinary processes of Scot-
land. The meals served at his house in Cheyne row
are described as awful examples of old Scotch gas-
tronomic methods. No cook would remain with
him for any length of time, and the revelations
of these functionaries when they left his employ
appalled even natives of his own land. Carlyle
thought he knew something of cookery. A rice
pudding, however, that he frequently concocted
was the cause of many estrangements between
his friends and himself.
Dr. Johnson ridiculed the cooking of the Scotch,
and now a writer in an article in the New Review
calls attention to the rapid if not total disappear-
ance of most of the national dishes of Scotland.
Tartan, pansowdie, scadlips, brochan, and dram-
mock are gone. Even haggis, consisting of a
minced leg of mutton, suet, bread crumbs, spices,
mushrooms, and red wine, enclosed in a skin and
baked in a quick oven, is becoming a thing of the
past.
*
* *
It is claimed that the insidious and fascinating
“ cocktail ” was the invention of Colonel Carter of
Culpeper Court House, Va. “ Many years ago,”
says an anonymous contributor, “ in that locality
there was a wayside inn named ‘ The Cock and
134
The Bachelor and the Chafing-dish.
Bottle,* the semblance of an old English tavern,
and which bore upon its swinging sign a cock and
bottle, meaning thereby that draught and bottled
ale could be had within — the ‘cock,’ in old ver-
nacular, meaning the tap. He, therefore, who got
the last and muddy portion of the tap was said to
have received the ‘cocktail.’ Upon one occasion,
when Colonel Carter was subjected to the indig-
nity of having this muddy beverage put before
him, he threw it angrily upon the floor and ex-
claimed : ‘ Hereafter I will drink cocktails of my
own brewing ; ’ and then and there, inspired evi-
dently by the spirit of Ganymede, he dashed to-
gether bitters, sugar, the oil of lemon peel, and
some old Holland gin, and thus and then and there
was the original cocktail concocted.”
*
* *
Mr. Delmonico says that “ lobster Newberg ”
was so called by him after a gentleman named
Wenberg, who was a great frequenter of the
famous restaurant, and asked for the concoction
so often that it was finally put down on the menu
as a la Wenberg. But his patron not wishing the
notoriety, objected so seriously that Mr. Delmon-
ico finally disguised it by reversing the letters of
the first syllable of the name.
L Envoi.
135
But the amenities of cooking and eating obtain
more or less interest in comparing the atmosphere
of a locality. A foaming glass of beer and a
Swiss-cheese sandwich made out of rye bread are
consumed with a zest by a hungry man in a Ger-
man saloon that could not possibly be obtained in
one’s parlor. Perhaps beans taste better in Bos-
ton than they do in New York, even if the pot is
from the same baker. In Syracuse, or rather a
few miles away from it on the country road, is a
wayhouse kept by an Irishman, and it is a fad
among the Syracusans to drive there and eat
boiled potatoes. They are cooked in brine, and,
when served, the jacket has on a heavy overcoat.
It is declared that there have been many imitators
of these famous boiled potatoes, but without suc-
cess in obtaining the delicious flavor. In Buffalo
there is a woman who bakes brown bread in an
old Dutch oven.
Page 46
Presented as published in 1895. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
he always clung to the culinary processes of Scotland. The meals served at his house in Cheyne row are described as awful examples of old Scotch gastronomic methods. No cook would remain with him for any length of time, and the revelations of these functionaries when they left his employ appalled even natives of his own land. Carlyle thought he knew something of cookery. A rice pudding, however, that he frequently concocted was the cause of many estrangements between his friends and himself.
Dr. Johnson ridiculed the cooking of the Scotch, and now a writer in an article in the New Review calls attention to the rapid if not total disappearance of most of the national dishes of Scotland. Tartan, pansowdie, scadlips, brochan, and drammock are gone. Even haggis, consisting of a minced leg of mutton, suet, bread crumbs, spices, mushrooms, and red wine, enclosed in a skin and baked in a quick oven, is becoming a thing of the past.
*
* *
It is claimed that the insidious and fascinating “ cocktail ” was the invention of Colonel Carter of Culpeper Court House, Va. “ Many years ago,” says an anonymous contributor, “ in that locality there was a wayside inn named ‘ The Cock and
The Bachelor and the Chafing-dish.
Bottle,* the semblance of an old English tavern, and which bore upon its swinging sign a cock and bottle, meaning thereby that draught and bottled ale could be had within — the ‘cock,’ in old vernacular, meaning the tap. He, therefore, who got the last and muddy portion of the tap was said to have received the ‘cocktail.’ Upon one occasion, when Colonel Carter was subjected to the indignity of having this muddy beverage put before him, he threw it angrily upon the floor and exclaimed : ‘ Hereafter I will drink cocktails of my
own brewing ; ’ and then and there, inspired evidently by the spirit of Ganymede, he dashed together bitters, sugar, the oil of lemon peel, and some old Holland gin, and thus and then and there was the original cocktail concocted.”
*
* *
Mr. Delmonico says that “ lobster Newberg ” was so called by him after a gentleman named Wenberg, who was a great frequenter of the famous restaurant, and asked for the concoction so often that it was finally put down on the menu as a la Wenberg. But his patron not wishing the notoriety, objected so seriously that Mr. Delmonico finally disguised it by reversing the letters of the first syllable of the name.
L Envoi.
But the amenities of cooking and eating obtain more or less interest in comparing the atmosphere of a locality. A foaming glass of beer and a Swiss-cheese sandwich made out of rye bread are consumed with a zest by a hungry man in a German saloon that could not possibly be obtained in one’s parlor. Perhaps beans taste better in Boston than they do in New York, even if the pot is from the same baker. In Syracuse, or rather a few miles away from it on the country road, is a wayhouse kept by an Irishman, and it is a fad among the Syracusans to drive there and eat boiled potatoes. They are cooked in brine, and, when served, the jacket has on a heavy overcoat. It is declared that there have been many imitators of these famous boiled potatoes, but without success in obtaining the delicious flavor. In Buffalo there is a woman who bakes brown bread in an old Dutch oven.