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                            CAKES AND ALE




                         _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_


                           THE FLOWING BOWL

                  A TREATISE ON DRINKS OF ALL KINDS
                   AND OF ALL PERIODS, INTERSPERSED
                      WITH SUNDRY ANECDOTES AND
                            REMINISCENCES

                                  BY

                            EDWARD SPENCER

                        ('NATHANIEL GUBBINS')

                   Author of "Cakes and Ale," etc.

                  _Crown 8vo., cloth gilt, 2/6 net._

                           SECOND EDITION.

               With cover design by the late PHIL MAY.


              "The Flowing Bowl" overflows with good
              cheer. In the happy style that enlivens its
              companion volume, "Cakes and Ale," the
              author gives a history of drinks and their
              use, interspersed with innumerable recipes
              for drinks new and old, dug out of records
              of ancient days, or set down anew.

                      LONDON: STANLEY PAUL & CO.
                    31, Essex Street, Strand, W.C.




                             CAKES & ALE

                      A DISSERTATION ON BANQUETS

                  INTERSPERSED WITH VARIOUS RECIPES,
                      MORE OR LESS ORIGINAL, AND
                     ANECDOTES, MAINLY VERACIOUS

                                  BY

                            EDWARD SPENCER
                        ('NATHANIEL GUBBINS')

                  AUTHOR OF "THE FLOWING BOWL," ETC.

                           _FOURTH EDITION_

                          STANLEY PAUL & CO.

                    31, ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.C.




                      _First printed April 1897
                      Reprinted May 1897
                      Cheap Edition February 1900
                      Reprinted 1913_




                        TO THE MODERN LUCULLUS

                             JOHN CORLETT

               GRANDEST OF HOSTS, BEST OF TRENCHER-MEN
                              I DEDICATE
                   (WITHOUT ANY SORT OF PERMISSION)

                              THIS BOOK




                               PREFACE


A long time ago, an estimable lady fell at the feet of an habitual
publisher, and prayed unto him:--

"Give, oh! give me the subject of a book for which the world has a
need, and I will write it for you."

"Are you an author, madam?" asked the publisher, motioning his visitor
to a seat.

"No, sir," was the proud reply, "I am a poet."

"Ah!" said the great man. "I am afraid there is no immediate worldly
need of a poet. If you could only write a good cookery book, now!"

The story goes on to relate how the poetess, not rebuffed in the
least, started on the requisite culinary work, directly she got
home; pawned her jewels to purchase postage stamps, and wrote far
and wide for recipes, which in course of time she obtained, by the
hundredweight. Other recipes she "conveyed" from ancient works of
gastronomy, and in a year or two the _magnum opus_ was given to the
world; the lady's share in the profits giving her "adequate provision
for the remainder of her life." We are not told, but it is presumable,
that the publisher received a little adequate provision too.

History occasionally repeats itself; and the history of the present
work begins in very much the same way. Whether it will finish in an
equally satisfactory manner is problematical. I do not possess much of
the divine _afflatus_ myself; but there has ever lurked within me some
sort of ambition to write a book--something held together by "tree
calf," "half morocco," or "boards"; something that might find its way
into the hearts and homes of an enlightened public; something which
will give some of my young friends ample opportunity for criticism. In
the exercise of my profession I have written leagues of descriptive
"copy"--mostly lies and racing selections,--but up to now there has
been no urgent demand for a book of any sort from this pen. For years
my ambition has remained ungratified. Publishers--as a rule, the most
faint-hearted and least speculative of mankind--have held aloof. And
whatever suggestions I might make were rejected, with determination,
if not with contumely.

At length came the hour, and the man; the introduction to a publisher
with an eye for budding and hitherto misdirected talent.

"Do you care, sir," I inquired at the outset, "to undertake the
dissemination of a bulky work on Political Economy?"

"Frankly, sir, I do not," was the reply. Then I tried him with
various subjects--social reform, the drama, bimetallism, the ethics
of starting prices, the advantages of motor cars in African warfare,
natural history, the martyrdom of Ananias, practical horticulture,
military law, and dogs; until he took down an old duck-gun from a peg
over the mantelpiece, and assumed a threatening attitude.

Peace having been restored, the self-repetition of history recommenced.

"I can do with a good, bold, brilliant, lightly treated, exhaustive
work on Gastronomy," said the publisher, "you are well acquainted with
the subject, I believe?"

"I'm a bit of a parlour cook, if that's what you mean," was my humble
reply. "At a salad, a grill, an anchovy toast, or a cooling and
cunningly compounded cup, I can be underwritten at ordinary rates. But
I could no more cook a haunch of venison, or even boil a rabbit, or
make an economical Christmas pudding, than I could sail a boat in a
nor'-easter; and Madam Cook would certainly eject me from her kitchen,
with a clout attached to the hem of my dinner jacket, inside five
minutes."

Eventually it was decided that I should commence this book.

"What I want," said the publisher, "is a series of essays on food,
a few anecdotes of stirring adventure--you have a fine flow of
imagination, I understand--and a few useful, but uncommon recipes. But
plenty of plums in the book, my dear sir, plenty of plums."

"But, suppose my own supply of plums should not hold out, what am I to
do?"

"What do you do--what does the cook do, when the plums for her
pudding run short? Get some more; the Museum, my dear sir, the great
storehouse of national literature, is free to all whose character is
above the normal standard. When your memory and imagination fail, try
the British Museum. You know what is a mightier factor than both sword
and pen? Precisely so. And remember that in replenishing your store
from the works of those who have gone before, you are only following
in their footsteps. I only bar Sydney Smith and Charles Lamb. Let me
have the script by Christmas--d'you smoke?--mind the step--_good_
morning."

In this way, gentle reader, were the trenches dug, the saps laid
for the attack of the great work. The bulk of it is original, and
the adventures in which the writer has taken part are absolutely
true. About some of the others I would not be so positive. Some of
the recipes have previously figured in the pages of the _Sporting
Times_, the _Lady's Pictorial_, and the _Man of the World_, to the
proprietors of which journals I hereby express my kindly thanks for
permission to revive them. Many of the recipes are original; some
are my own; others have been sent in by relatives, and friends of my
youth; others have been adapted for modern requirements from works of
great antiquity; whilst others again--I am nothing if not candid--have
been "conveyed" from the works of more modern writers, who in their
turn had borrowed them from the works of their ancestors. There is
nothing new under the sun; and there are but few absolute novelties
which are subjected to the heat of the kitchen fire.

If the style of the work be faulty, the reason--not the excuse--is
that the style is innate, and not modelled upon anybody else's
style. The language I have endeavoured to make as plain, homely,
and vigorous as is the food advocated. If the criticisms on foreign
cookery should offend the talented _chef_, I have the satisfaction
of knowing that, as I have forsworn his works, he will be unable to
retaliate with poison. And if the criticisms on the modern English
methods of preparing food should attract the attention of the home
caterer, he may possibly be induced to give his steam-chest and his
gas-range a rest, and put the roast beef of Old England on his table,
occasionally; though I have only the very faintest hopes that he will
do so. For the monster eating-houses and mammoth hotels of to-day are
for the most part "run" by companies and syndicates; and the company
within the dining-room suffer occasionally, in order that dividends
may be possible after payment has been made for the elaborate, and
wholly unnecessary, furniture, and decorations. Wholesome food is
usually sufficient for the ordinary British appetite, without such
surroundings as marble pillars, Etruscan vases, nude figures, gilding,
and looking-glasses, which only serve to distract attention from the
banquet. It is with many a sigh that I recall the good old-fashioned
inn, where the guest really received a warm welcome. Nowadays, the
warmest part of that welcome is usually the bill.

It is related of the wittiest man of the nineteenth century, my late
friend Mr. Henry J. Byron, that, upon one occasion, whilst walking
home with a brother dramatist, after the first performance of his
comedy, which had failed to please the audience, Byron shed tears.

"How is this?" inquired his friend. "The failure of my play appears to
affect you strangely."

"I was only weeping," was the reply, "because I was afraid you'd set
to work, and write another."

But there need be no tears shed on any page of this food book. For I
am not going to "write another."




                               CONTENTS


                              CHAPTER I

                              BREAKFAST

  Formal or informal?--An eccentric old gentleman--The ancient
  Britons--Breakfast in the days of Good Queen Bess--A
  few tea statistics--Garraway's--Something about coffee--Brandy
  for breakfast--The evolution of the staff of life--Free
  Trade--The cheap loaf, and no cash to buy it      Pages 1-9


                              CHAPTER II

                       BREAKFAST (_continued_)

  Country-house life--An Englishwoman at her best--Guests'
  comforts--What to eat at the first meal--A few choice
  recipes--A noble grill-sauce--The poor outcast--Appetising
  dishes--Hotel "worries"--The old regime and the new--"No
  cheques"; no soles, and "whitings is hoff"--A
  halibut steak--Skilly and oakum--Breakfast out of the
  rates      10-21


                             CHAPTER III

                       BREAKFAST (_continued_)

  Bonnie Scotland--Parritch an' cream--Fin'an haddies--A knife
  on the ocean wave--_A la Francais_--In the gorgeous East--_Chota
  hazri_--English as she is spoke--Dak bungalow fare--Some
  quaint dishes--Breakfast with "my tutor"--A Don's
  absence of mind      22-33


                              CHAPTER IV

                               LUNCHEON

  Why lunch?--Sir Henry Thompson on overdoing it--The children's
  dinner--City lunches--"Ye Olde Cheshyre Cheese"--Doctor
  Johnson--Ye pudding--A great fall in food--A
  snipe pudding--Skirt, not rump steak--Lancashire hot-pot--A
  Cape "brady"      34-43


                              CHAPTER V

                        LUNCHEON (_continued_)

  Shooting luncheons--Cold tea and a crust--Clear turtle--Such
  larks!--Jugged duck and oysters--Woodcock pie--Hunting
  luncheons--Pie crusts--The true Yorkshire pie--Race-course
  luncheons--Suggestions to caterers--The "Jolly
  Sandboys" stew--Various recipes--A race-course sandwich--Angels'
  pie--"Suffolk pride"--Devilled larks--A light lunch
  in the Himalayas      44-58


                              CHAPTER VI

                                DINNER

  Origin--Early dinners--The noble Romans--"Vitellius the
  Glutton"--Origin of haggis--The Saxons--Highland hospitality--The
  French invasion--Waterloo avenged--The bad
  fairy "_Ala_"--Comparisons--The English cook or the foreign
  food torturer?--Plain or flowery--Fresh fish and the flavour
  wrapped up--George Augustus Sala--Doctor Johnson
  again                                                     59-72


                             CHAPTER VII

                         DINNER (_continued_)

  Imitation--Dear Lady Thistlebrain--Try it on the dog--Criminality
  of the English caterer--The stove, the stink,
  the steamer--Roasting v. baking--False economy--Dirty
  ovens--Frills and fingers--Time over dinner--A long-winded
  Bishop--Corned beef      73-81


                             CHAPTER VIII

                         DINNER (_continued_)

  A merry Christmas--Bin F--A _Noel_ banquet--Water-cress--How
  Royalty fares--The Tsar--_Bouillabaisse_--_Tournedos_--_Bisque_--
  _Vol-au-vent_--_Pre sale_--Chinese banquets--A fixed
  bayonet--_Bernardin Salmi_--The duck-squeezer--American
  cookery--"Borston" beans--He couldn't eat beef               82-96


                              CHAPTER IX

                         DINNER (_continued_)

  French soup--A regimental dinner--A city banquet--_Baksheesh_--Aboard
  ship--An ideal dinner--Cod's liver--Sleeping in the
  kitchen--A _fricandeau_--Regimental messes--Peter the
  Great--Napoleon the Great--Victoria--The Iron Duke--Mushrooms--A
  medical opinion--A North Pole banquet--Dogs
  as food--Plain unvarnished fare--The Kent Road
  cookery--More beans than bacon                               97-110


                              CHAPTER X

                              VEGETABLES

  Use and abuse of the potato--Its eccentricities--Its origin--Hawkins,
  not Raleigh, introduced it into England--With or
  without the "jacket"?--Don't let it be _a-la_-ed--Benevolence
  and large-heartedness of the cabbage family--Pease on
  earth--Pythagoras on the bean--"Giving him beans"--"Haricot"
  a misnomer--"Borston" beans--Frijoles--The
  carrot--Crecy soup--The Prince of Wales--The Black
  Prince and the King of Bohemia                              111-122


                              CHAPTER XI

                       VEGETABLES (_continued_)

  The brief lives of the best--A vegetable with a pedigree--
  Argenteuil--The Elysian Fields--The tomato the emblem of
  love--"Neeps"--Spinach--"Stomach-brush"--The savoury
  tear-provoker--Invaluable for wasp-stings--Celery merely
  cultivated "smallage"--The "_Apium_"--The parsnip--O
  Jerusalem!--The golden sunflower--How to get pheasants--A
  vegetarian banquet--"Swelling wisibly"                     123-133


                             CHAPTER XII

                               CURRIES

  Different modes of manufacture--The "native" fraud--"That
  man's family"--The French _kari_--A Parsee curry--"The
  oyster in the sauce"--Ingredients--Malay curry--Locusts--When
  to serve--What to curry--Prawn curry--Dry curry,
  champion recipe--Rice--The Bombay duck               134-146


                             CHAPTER XIII

                                SALADS

  Nebuchadnezzar _v._ Sydney Smith--Salt?--No salad-bowl--French
  origin--Apocryphal story of Francatelli--Salads _and_
  salads--Water-cress and dirty water--Salad-maker born
  not made--Lobster salad--Lettuce, Wipe or wash?--Mayonnaise--Potato
  salad--Tomato ditto--Celery ditto--A
  memorable ditto                                        147-157


                             CHAPTER XIV

                        SALADS AND CONDIMENTS

  Roman salad--Italian ditto--Various other salads--Sauce for
  cold mutton--Chutnine--Raw chutnee--Horse-radish sauce--Christopher
  North's sauce--How to serve a mackerel--_Sauce
  Tartare_--Ditto for sucking pig--Delights of making
  _Sambal_--A new language                                158-169


                              CHAPTER XV

                                SUPPER

  Cleopatra's supper--Oysters--Danger in the Aden bivalve--Oyster
  stew--Ball suppers--Pretty dishes--The _Taj Mahal_--Aspic--Bloater
  paste and whipped cream--Ladies' recipes--Cookery
  colleges--Tripe--Smothered in onions--North
  Riding fashion--An hotel supper--Lord Tomnoddy at the
  "Magpie and Stump"                                      170-180


                             CHAPTER XVI

                         SUPPER (_continued_)

  Old supper-houses--The Early Closing Act--Evans's--Cremorne
  Gardens--"The Albion"--Parlour cookery--Kidneys fried
  in the fire-shovel--The true way to grill a bone--"Cannie
  Carle"--My lady's bower--Kidney dumplings--A Middleham
  supper--Steaks cut from a colt by brother to "Strafford"
