And while, as we have seen, the careful cooking and serving of
food are themselves the result of a developed esthetic sense, they
are at the same time a means of further development. A good
meal, well cooked, and daintily served, has a certain subtle moral
effect not to be disregarded in this age of nervous haste and flaunt-
ing materialism. If we are "but what we eat," we are also in a
very real sense the product of all the influences that play about us
as we eat. The child, contented over his morning bowl of oatmeal,
is not unmindful of the cleanliness and order of the table at which
he sits, and the scent of the orange or the cocoa may be just as re-
fining in its influence a^ the fragrance of the honey-suckle wafted
through the open window. If beautiful surroundings have, as we
now generally agree, their effect upon the sensitive, impressionable
nature of the child, the meal to which he comes gladly three times
a day must play a tremendous part in determining what his future
character will be.
Nor is it only the child who is influenced. A poor meal, served
in slovenly fashion, will upset many a healthy man's temper for
the day. After all, one's philosophy is largely a matter of what one
has had for breakfast.
ENTERTAINING
So saying, with dispatehful looks in haste.
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent —
What choice to choose for delicacy best.
What order so contrived as not to mix
Tastes not well joined, inelegant; but bring
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change.
— ^Milton: Paradise Lost.
ENTERTAINING
A CERTAIN amount of entertaining is necessary, even if one
goes to the extent of believing with Byron that society is
only a polished horde.
Formed of two mighty tribes, the bores and bored;
and to the hostess who does not try to entertain beyond her
means or her strength, the bringing together of friends should
be a pleasure. Too- frequently the pleasure is greater on the
part of guest than of hostess.
Is this because in the rush of our modern life we have lost
sight of the beauty of hospitality, which from very earliest times
has been a sacred thing? We recall pictures of Oriental hospi-
tality, familiar through the pages of the Bible, so striking and
beautiful that we have unconsciously made them the standard
by which the relations of host and guest are to be judged for all
time. The story of the woman of Shunem who constrained the
prophet Elisha to eat bread "as oft as he passed by" is enshrined
in the heart of every true woman.
Naturally to us the present-day oriental customs seem lavish
and absurdly formal; they have, perhaps, lost the spirit of that
olden time in which the bond between host and guest was scarcely
less holy than that between father and son; at any rate, they do
not fall in with our occidental ideas of democracy and frankness.
We can cultivate the fine flower of hospitality without a multi-
tude of senseless wrappings. The naked flower is all we want;
we have all known the misery of being "made company of."
Ceremony, fortunately, is becoming more and more a thing of
the past — ^not because people are less kind, but because the com-
plexity of modern life makes simplicity in social relations a relief
11
ENTERTAINING
Page 5
Presented as published in 1913. 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
And while, as we have seen, the careful cooking and serving of food are themselves the result of a developed esthetic sense, they are at the same time a means of further development. A good meal, well cooked, and daintily served, has a certain subtle moral effect not to be disregarded in this age of nervous haste and flaunting materialism. If we are "but what we eat," we are also in a very real sense the product of all the influences that play about us as we eat. The child, contented over his morning bowl of oatmeal, is not unmindful of the cleanliness and order of the table at which he sits, and the scent of the orange or the cocoa may be just as refining in its influence as the fragrance of the honey-suckle wafted through the open window. If beautiful surroundings have, as we now generally agree, their effect upon the sensitive, impressionable nature of the child, the meal to which he comes gladly three times a day must play a tremendous part in determining what his future character will be.
Nor is it only the child who is influenced. A poor meal, served in slovenly fashion, will upset many a healthy man's temper for the day. After all, one's philosophy is largely a matter of what one has had for breakfast.
So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste. She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent — What choice to choose for delicacy best. What order so contrived as not to mix Tastes not well joined, inelegant; but bring Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change.
— Milton: Paradise Lost.
A CERTAIN amount of entertaining is necessary, even if one goes to the extent of believing with Byron that society is only a polished horde.
Formed of two mighty tribes, the bores and bored;
and to the hostess who does not try to entertain beyond her means or her strength, the bringing together of friends should be a pleasure. Too- frequently the pleasure is greater on the part of guest than of hostess.
Is this because in the rush of our modern life we have lost sight of the beauty of hospitality, which from very earliest times has been a sacred thing? We recall pictures of Oriental hospitality, familiar through the pages of the Bible, so striking and beautiful that we have unconsciously made them the standard by which the relations of host and guest are to be judged for all time. The story of the woman of Shunem who constrained the prophet Elisha to eat bread "as oft as he passed by" is enshrined in the heart of every true woman.
Naturally to us the present-day oriental customs seem lavish and absurdly formal; they have, perhaps, lost the spirit of that olden time in which the bond between host and guest was scarcely less holy than that between father and son; at any rate, they do not fall in with our occidental ideas of democracy and frankness. We can cultivate the fine flower of hospitality without a multitude of senseless wrappings. The naked flower is all we want; we have all known the misery of being "made company of."
Ceremony, fortunately, is becoming more and more a thing of the past — not because people are less kind, but because the complexity of modern life makes simplicity in social relations a relief