Shooting, like Racing Luncheons, depend entirely on
the party and kind of shooting. The Author cannot do
better than quote the article in the World of the i8th of
November, 1885, with which he quite agrees :
Something of the kind is an absolute necessity : it ought to be
made a pleasure : it may be made an unutterable bore. As to its
necessity, no one will question that who has ever attempted or
been compelled to do without it. A fisherman will probably miss
his lunch, but its loss will not affect his basket. A huntsman will
miss it still more, but, if need be, he will contrive to finish the
run without it. But in shooting it is essential. An empty
stomach at the end of a long day is as good a friend as feather
and fur need desire, though happily, from the human point of
view, it is not a friend which often comes to their assistance. All
but a few monomaniacs will support the principle of the institution ;
difficulties arise only upon the question of its form.
It should be a cheery enough repast, though, of course, some
of the conditions of its success are beyond human control.
Nothing can be more joyless than consuming damp sandwiches
upon a dripping rock, with a howling wind to roll up the storm-
clouds over the Ben behind you. A situation of this sort subdues
even a Scotch keeper’s omnivorous capacity for remnants, and the
dogs get a larger share than usual of the crumbs which fall from
their master’s table. Yet the lunch on the moor is the lunch of
the highest possibilities, which only require for their realisation a
fine day. A lunch amid the purple heather, with a cloudless sky
overhead, and just a ruffle of mountain breeze to tone down the
SHOOTING LUNCHEONS.
53
effect of the blazing sun, which enables you to appreciate the cool
waters of the burn brattling down the hillside into the blue loch
below — such a lunch knows no rival in this present vale of tears.
The lunch under the road-oak in mild September comes next,
but longo intervallo. Lowest of all we place the bestial profusion
of the hot lunch, in which a precious hour of December daylight
is all too often wasted. The rough surroundings of the moor go
far to prevent the possibility of a vulgarly elaborate lunch. This
is sometimes allowed to mar the simplicity of partridge-shooting.
But its natural place is amid the pomp and pageantry of a big day
in the coverts. It is an evil at all times ; but it is particularly evil
where it is most frequently found, because the work of a day’s
covert-shooting is rarely hard enough to justify it. . . .
An overgrown lunch is justly abhorred by all men who are
really keen on sport; but, at the same time, it is possible to err in
the opposite direction. When lunch is reduced to a small packet
of sandwiches per head, accompanied by a request from the host
to distribute any that may be over amongst the keepers, one is
inclined to suspect that this is common stinginess trying to
attitudinise as hardy simplicity. Simplicity, it is true, should be
the soul of a shooting lunch ; but then it should be simplicity in
sufficient quantities. A good packet of sandwiches, a hard-boiled
egg, and a hunk of cake will amply satisfy most men. But of
course in a large party some allowances must be made for
individual varieties of taste. Sandwiches are by far the most
convenient form of food for the purpose ; but then some men
dislike them extremely.
Page 12
Presented as published in 1887. 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
A modernized reading is not available for this page yet. You are seeing the original text.
Shooting, like Racing Luncheons, depend entirely on
the party and kind of shooting. The Author cannot do
better than quote the article in the World of the i8th of
November, 1885, with which he quite agrees :
Something of the kind is an absolute necessity : it ought to be
made a pleasure : it may be made an unutterable bore. As to its
necessity, no one will question that who has ever attempted or
been compelled to do without it. A fisherman will probably miss
his lunch, but its loss will not affect his basket. A huntsman will
miss it still more, but, if need be, he will contrive to finish the
run without it. But in shooting it is essential. An empty
stomach at the end of a long day is as good a friend as feather
and fur need desire, though happily, from the human point of
view, it is not a friend which often comes to their assistance. All
but a few monomaniacs will support the principle of the institution ;
difficulties arise only upon the question of its form.
It should be a cheery enough repast, though, of course, some
of the conditions of its success are beyond human control.
Nothing can be more joyless than consuming damp sandwiches
upon a dripping rock, with a howling wind to roll up the storm-
clouds over the Ben behind you. A situation of this sort subdues
even a Scotch keeper’s omnivorous capacity for remnants, and the
dogs get a larger share than usual of the crumbs which fall from
their master’s table. Yet the lunch on the moor is the lunch of
the highest possibilities, which only require for their realisation a
fine day. A lunch amid the purple heather, with a cloudless sky
overhead, and just a ruffle of mountain breeze to tone down the
SHOOTING LUNCHEONS.
53
effect of the blazing sun, which enables you to appreciate the cool
waters of the burn brattling down the hillside into the blue loch
below — such a lunch knows no rival in this present vale of tears.
The lunch under the road-oak in mild September comes next,
but longo intervallo. Lowest of all we place the bestial profusion
of the hot lunch, in which a precious hour of December daylight
is all too often wasted. The rough surroundings of the moor go
far to prevent the possibility of a vulgarly elaborate lunch. This
is sometimes allowed to mar the simplicity of partridge-shooting.
But its natural place is amid the pomp and pageantry of a big day
in the coverts. It is an evil at all times ; but it is particularly evil
where it is most frequently found, because the work of a day’s
covert-shooting is rarely hard enough to justify it. . . .
An overgrown lunch is justly abhorred by all men who are
really keen on sport; but, at the same time, it is possible to err in
the opposite direction. When lunch is reduced to a small packet
of sandwiches per head, accompanied by a request from the host
to distribute any that may be over amongst the keepers, one is
inclined to suspect that this is common stinginess trying to
attitudinise as hardy simplicity. Simplicity, it is true, should be
the soul of a shooting lunch ; but then it should be simplicity in
sufficient quantities. A good packet of sandwiches, a hard-boiled
egg, and a hunk of cake will amply satisfy most men. But of
course in a large party some allowances must be made for
individual varieties of taste. Sandwiches are by far the most
convenient form of food for the purpose ; but then some men
dislike them extremely.