But stop a moment : — is it inevUahle ? Let us consider
that point. The fons et oriqo jnali, it seems to me, are to
be detected without difficulty. Think, first of all, of the
distances which as a rule separate our kitchens from our
houses, and the fact that the room is part and parcel of a
block of godowns — not unfrequently within easy access of
the stables. Setting aside other considerations for a mo-
ment, do we not at once perceive here two grave evils : —
in the first place that proper supervision of the kitchen is
almost out of the question ; and, in the second, that pro-
miscuous gatherings of outsiders, — the friends, relations,
and children (a fruitful source of dirtiness) of our servants,
— can take place in it undetected ? Again : the room is
generally constructed with as little ventilation and light
as possible, its position w4th regard to the sun is never
thought of, and arrangements for its pi-oper drainage are
rare. As there is no scullery, or place for washing up, &c.,
the ground in the immediate vicinity of the kitchen re-
ceives the foul liquid (as well as all refused matter) which
is carelessly thrown out upon it. The consequence is that
hard by many a cook-room in this Presidency, there is a
noisome cesspool containing an inky looking fluid, the
exhalations from which can scarcely improve the more
delicate articles of food which are sent from the house for
preparation.
Now follow me into the room. It is as black as Erebus.
The pungent smoke from yonder wood fire, upon which
some water for a bath is being boiled, penetrates every
crevice. There is no chimney, you see, so the wall, up
which the smoke is creeping towards an opening in the
roof, is lined by an ancient coating of soot. Observe tlie
mass of patriarchal looking cobwebs depending from the
49S OUR KITCHENS IN INDIA.
rafters, and the floor of motlier-eartli, gi-easy, black, and
cruelly uneven in its surface.
Pull yourself together now, for we are about to examine
the kitchen table. It is, to begin ^vith, a piece of furni-
ture ^vhicll it would be gross flattery to call a dresser. It
is small, and \cyj rickety. In colour it is a remarkably
warm burnt umber. The legs which support it arc be-
grimed with dust which has become coagulated from time
to time by grease, and smoked a rich sable. If you wished
to do so, you could scrape off this filtliy tegument with
your pen-knife to the depth of the sixteenth of an inch.
The top of the table is notched and scored all over Avith
wounds inflicted by the chopper, the edges are all worn
down, and there are tell-tale marks which prove that it is
the custom of the chef and his assistants to mince parslc}',
herbs, onions, aye the meat itself of which those "chicken
cutlets" that he delights to give you are made, upon the
oily, nut-brown board.
Page 274
Presented as published in 1885. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
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But stop a moment : — is it inevUahle ? Let us consider
that point. The fons et oriqo jnali, it seems to me, are to
be detected without difficulty. Think, first of all, of the
distances which as a rule separate our kitchens from our
houses, and the fact that the room is part and parcel of a
block of godowns — not unfrequently within easy access of
the stables. Setting aside other considerations for a mo-
ment, do we not at once perceive here two grave evils : —
in the first place that proper supervision of the kitchen is
almost out of the question ; and, in the second, that pro-
miscuous gatherings of outsiders, — the friends, relations,
and children (a fruitful source of dirtiness) of our servants,
— can take place in it undetected ? Again : the room is
generally constructed with as little ventilation and light
as possible, its position w4th regard to the sun is never
thought of, and arrangements for its pi-oper drainage are
rare. As there is no scullery, or place for washing up, &c.,
the ground in the immediate vicinity of the kitchen re-
ceives the foul liquid (as well as all refused matter) which
is carelessly thrown out upon it. The consequence is that
hard by many a cook-room in this Presidency, there is a
noisome cesspool containing an inky looking fluid, the
exhalations from which can scarcely improve the more
delicate articles of food which are sent from the house for
preparation.
Now follow me into the room. It is as black as Erebus.
The pungent smoke from yonder wood fire, upon which
some water for a bath is being boiled, penetrates every
crevice. There is no chimney, you see, so the wall, up
which the smoke is creeping towards an opening in the
roof, is lined by an ancient coating of soot. Observe tlie
mass of patriarchal looking cobwebs depending from the
49S OUR KITCHENS IN INDIA.
rafters, and the floor of motlier-eartli, gi-easy, black, and
cruelly uneven in its surface.
Pull yourself together now, for we are about to examine
the kitchen table. It is, to begin ^vith, a piece of furni-
ture ^vhicll it would be gross flattery to call a dresser. It
is small, and \cyj rickety. In colour it is a remarkably
warm burnt umber. The legs which support it arc be-
grimed with dust which has become coagulated from time
to time by grease, and smoked a rich sable. If you wished
to do so, you could scrape off this filtliy tegument with
your pen-knife to the depth of the sixteenth of an inch.
The top of the table is notched and scored all over Avith
wounds inflicted by the chopper, the edges are all worn
down, and there are tell-tale marks which prove that it is
the custom of the chef and his assistants to mince parslc}',
herbs, onions, aye the meat itself of which those "chicken
cutlets" that he delights to give you are made, upon the
oily, nut-brown board.