any length of time endure the insipidity of
plain food sans sauce. Hence the popularity of such sauces amongst
people who do not observe the correct culinary principle of seasoning
food judiciously, befitting its character, without spoiling but rather
in enhancing its characteristics and in bringing out its flavor at the
right time, namely during coction to give the kindred aromas a chance
to blend well.

Continental nations, adhering to this important principle of cookery
(inherited from Apicius) would not dream of using ready-made (English)
sauces.

We have witnessed real crimes being perpetrated upon perfectly
seasoned and delicately flavored _entrees_. We have watched
ill-advised people maltreat good things, cooked to perfection, even
before they tasted them, sprinkling them as a matter of habit, with
quantities of salt and pepper, paprika, cayenne, daubing them with
mustards of every variety or swamping them with one or several of the
commercial sauce preparations. "Temperamental" chefs, men who know
their art, usually explode at the sight of such wantonness. Which
painter would care to see his canvas varnished with all the hues in
the rainbow by a patron afflicted with such a taste?

Perhaps the craving for excessive flavoring is an olfactory delirium,
a pathological case, as yet unfathomed like the excessive craving for
liquor, and, being a problem for the medical fraternity, it is only of
secondary importance to gastronomy.

To say that the Romans were afflicted on a national scale with a
strange spice mania (as some interpreters want us to believe) would be
equivalent to the assertion that all wine-growing nations were nations
of drunkards. As a matter of fact, the reverse is the truth.

Apicius surely would be surprised at some things we enjoy. _Voila_, a
recipe, "modern," not older than half a century, given by us in the
Apician style or writing: Take liquamen, pepper, cayenne, eggs, lemon,
olive oil, vinegar, white wine, anchovies, onions, tarragon, pickled
cucumbers, parsley, chervil, hard-boiled eggs, capers, green peppers,
mustard, chop, mix well, and serve.

Do you recognize it? This formula sounds as phantastic, as "weird" and
as "vile" as any of the Apician concoctions, confusing even a
well-trained cook because we stated neither the title of this
preparation nor the mode of making it, nor did we name the ingredients
in their proper sequence. This mystery was conceived with an
illustrative pur