FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   312   313   314   315   316   317   318   319   320   321   322   323   324   325   326   327   328   329   330   331   332   333   334   335   336  
337   338   339   340   341   342   343   344   345   346   347   348   349   350   351   352   353   354   355   356   357   358   359   360   361   >>   >|  
nerous one--were brought on the table and carved in full view of the client, that might give the right sense of earnestness and reality to the thing; but they don't do that, they pass the sliced meat around on a dish, and so you are perfectly calm, it does not stir you in the least. Now a vast roast turkey, stretched on the broad of his back, with his heels in the air and the rich juices oozing from his fat sides ... but I may as well stop there, for they would not know how to cook him. They can't even cook a chicken respectably; and as for carving it, they do that with a hatchet. This is about the customary table d'hote bill in summer: Soup (characterless). Fish--sole, salmon, or whiting--usually tolerably good. Roast--mutton or beef--tasteless--and some last year's potatoes. A pate, or some other made dish--usually good--"considering." One vegetable--brought on in state, and all alone--usually insipid lentils, or string-beans, or indifferent asparagus. Roast chicken, as tasteless as paper. Lettuce-salad--tolerably good. Decayed strawberries or cherries. Sometimes the apricots and figs are fresh, but this is no advantage, as these fruits are of no account anyway. The grapes are generally good, and sometimes there is a tolerably good peach, by mistake. The variations of the above bill are trifling. After a fortnight one discovers that the variations are only apparent, not real; in the third week you get what you had the first, and in the fourth the week you get what you had the second. Three or four months of this weary sameness will kill the robustest appetite. It has now been many months, at the present writing, since I have had a nourishing meal, but I shall soon have one--a modest, private affair, all to myself. I have selected a few dishes, and made out a little bill of fare, which will go home in the steamer that precedes me, and be hot when I arrive--as follows: Radishes. Baked apples, with cream Fried oysters; stewed oysters. Frogs. American coffee, with real cream. American butter. Fried chicken, Southern style. Porter-house steak. Saratoga potatoes. Broiled chicken, American style. Hot biscuits, Southern style. Hot wheat-bread, Southern style. Hot buckwheat cakes. American toast. Clear maple syrup. Virginia bacon, broiled. Blue poin
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   312   313   314   315   316   317   318   319   320   321   322   323   324   325   326   327   328   329   330   331   332   333   334   335   336  
337   338   339   340   341   342   343   344   345   346   347   348   349   350   351   352   353   354   355   356   357   358   359   360   361   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

chicken

 

American

 

tolerably

 

Southern

 
months
 

potatoes

 

tasteless

 

variations

 
oysters
 

brought


writing
 
present
 

mistake

 

sameness

 

trifling

 

fortnight

 

discovers

 

apparent

 

fourth

 

robustest


appetite
 

Saratoga

 

Broiled

 

biscuits

 

Porter

 

butter

 
apples
 
stewed
 

coffee

 
Virginia

broiled

 

buckwheat

 
Radishes
 

selected

 

dishes

 
affair
 
private
 

modest

 

arrive

 

precedes


generally

 

steamer

 

nourishing

 
string
 

juices

 
oozing
 

turkey

 

stretched

 

earnestness

 
client