Part 12
Caviar frais. Huîtres (Natives). Œufs Grand-Duc. Bouchées Joinville. Truite saumonée au Chambertin. Sarcelles rôties. Salade Espérance. Aspic de homard en Bellevue. Asperges sauce Mousseline. Soufflé au kirsch. Corbeilles de fruits. Café.
VINS.
Eau-de-vie russe. Chablis, 1890. Johannisberg, 1886. Château-Léoville Poyferré, 1878. Romanée-Conti, 1865. Champagne frappé Baïkal (extra-dry), ’84. Château-Yquem, 1869. Grande fine-champagne Napoléon, 1800.
The dinner for four was exquisite, and the wines extraordinary. The total cost was just over twenty-five pounds.
In that delightful book, “Mrs. Brookfield and Her Circle,” by Charles and Frances Brookfield, there is this postscript to a letter written by the husband to his wife: “On the carte of the Carlton Club the day before yesterday (the General Fast) was to be seen these words: ‘The Committee, taking into consideration that the observance of a General Fast has been ordained, have directed that the coffee-room dinner shall be confined strictly to--Two Soups. Fish. Plain Joints. Spring Tarts. Omelettes. Cheese.’”
Another story from the same book, which although it has nothing whatever to do with Lent, has, perhaps, with food and feeding, runs as follows: “The new bishop of New Zealand, in a farewell and pathetic interview with his mother, after his appointment, was thus addressed by her in such sequence as sobs and tears would permit: ‘I suppose they will eat you, my dear--I try to think otherwise, but I suppose they will. Well!--We must leave it in the hands of Providence. But if they do--mind, my dear, and disagree with them.’”
That some at least of the less abstinent monks made very hearty meals and were quite valiant trenchermen, whether it were fast day or no, is a matter of history. At a splendid dinner given by the Legate of Avignon to the Prior of Chartreux, a superb fish, cooked to perfection and likely to have tempted the Pope himself had he been present, was handed to the Prior. He helped himself and was on the eve of eating, when one of the brothers said to him: “My father, do not touch that, it is not _maigre_. I went into the kitchen, and I saw things that would make you shudder; the sauce that you fancy is made from carrots and onions is made from ham and rabbits.” “My brother, you talk too much and are too curious,” replied the father; “the kitchen is not your place, and curiosity is a grievous sin.”
Beckford of “Vathek” fame gives a glowing account of the monastery of Alcobaça, and particularly of the kitchen thereof: “Through the centre of the immense and groined hall, not less than sixty feet in diameter, ran a brisk rivulet of the clearest water, flowing through pierced wooden reservoirs, containing every sort and size of the finest river fish. On one side loads of game and venison were heaped up; on the other vegetables and fruit in endless variety. Beyond a long line of stores, extended a row of ovens, and close to them hillocks of wheaten flour, whiter than snow, rocks of sugar, jars of the purest oil, and pastry in vast abundance, which a numerous tribe of lay-brothers and their attendants were rolling out and puffing up into a hundred different shapes, singing all the while as blithely as larks in a cornfield.” After describing the elaborate composition of the daily banquet of the monks, the author describes “a certain truffle cream which was so exquisite that the Lord Abbot piously gave thanks for it.”
A famous London character in the time of “Frazer’s Magazine” was Serjeant Murphy, M.P. for Cork. An acquaintance of Murphy’s was constantly addicted to boasting of his aristocratic friends. At a dinner-party where there were several Roman Catholics present, conversation centred round the subject of fasting, when the serjeant’s friend struck in: “It is very strange how little the highest ranks regard fast days. I was dining at the Duke of Norfolk’s on a fast day three weeks ago, and there was not a bit of fish at dinner.” “I suppose,” said Murphy, in the midst of the deep silence that followed, “that they had eaten it all in the dining-room.”
Chaucer writes of a man who
Full many a patrich had he in mewe, And many a breme and many a luce in stew.
The stew was, of course, the monkish fish-pond, which has almost disappeared since the Reformation. The luce is the jack or pike of the fishermen, and is often found as a pun upon the family name of Lucy, which bears the pike as a charge. Richard de Lucie, who defended the castle of Falaise against Geoffry of Anjou, was Lord Diss in Norfolk; he was also Sheriff of Essex in the reign of Henry II, and built the castle of Ongar. Sir Richard Lucy, Lord Chief Justice of England, founded Lesnes Priory, near Erith, and dying in 1179, was buried within its walls. An antiquary named Weever, who had seen his tomb in 1630, states that upon the belt of the figure of the knight the fleur-de-lis, or fleur-de-luce, the rebus or name device of the Lucys, was sculptured in many places. The fleur-de-lis was here used in a doubly figurative sense for a pike or spear, to the head of which it bears some resemblance.
This is more particularly shown in the Cantelupe arms, gules, a fess vaire between three leopards’ heads jessant fleur-de-lis. The arms of Lucy are also among the quarterings borne by the family of Lowther, the head of which is, of course, Lord Lonsdale.
Certain fish, evidently intended for pike or luces, in the pavement of the Chapter House at Westminster may possibly allude to the early tradition that St. Peter’s Church was first built by King Lucius.
The ged and the pike are synonymous in North Britain, whence the Scots family of Ged bear for arms, azure, three geds, or pike, hauriant argent; Sir Walter Scott alludes to this play upon the name in Red Gauntlet. “The heralds,” he says, “who make graven images of fish, fowls, and beasts, assigned the ged for their device and escutcheon, and hewed it over their chimneys, and placed above their tombs the fish called a jack, pike, or luce, and in our tongue, a ged.”
Of this family was William Ged, an Edinburgh printer, who employed a stereotyping process as early as 1725. The Geddes, a very ancient family of Tweeddale, bear for arms, gules, an escutcheon between three luces’ heads couped argent.
Much of the good purpose of a close adherence to strict Lenten fare has no doubt been lost by our continued neglect of the manifold uses of herbs.
Amid all the talking and writing about vegetarianism very little attention seems to have been paid to the undoubted importance of the herb garden.
Our forefathers believed implicitly in the virtues of herbs, and extolled them in prose and verse. According to one of the old Roxburghe Ballads:--
Here’s pennyroyal and marygolds, Come, buy my nettle-tops. Here’s water-cresses and scurvy-grass, Come, buy my sage of virtue, ho! Come, buy my wormwood and mugworts. Here’s all fine herbs of every sort; Here’s southernwood that’s very good, Dandelion and horseleek. Here’s dragon’s-tongue and wood-sorrel, With bear’s-foot and horehound. Let none despise the merry, merry cries Of famous London Town!
Most of these formerly well-known herbs, each having its own peculiar curative quality, are nowadays practically unknown, but a reference to old John Parkinson, or the herbals of Gerard or Turner, or the “Acetaria” of John Evelyn, would readily show that they were good for the various ills to which flesh is heir. The very earliest medicaments were largely composed of herbs, and even to-day the learned prescription of a Harley Street two-guinea specialist usually contains at least one ingredient which, under a more formal Latin name, is neither more nor less than a “garden simple” or herb.
The common marigold, for instance, which Gerard calls “the Jackanapes-on-Horseback,” was at one time much used for soups or “pottages.” In Miss Edgeworth’s story of “Simple Susan” she explains how the petals of marigolds were added, as the last touch, to the broth made for an invalid mother. Evelyn compares the common bugloss to the nepenthe of Homer, but adds that what we now call bugloss was not that of the ancients, but rather borage, “for the like virtue named corrago.”
Smallage was, of course, simply wild celery, which Parkinson says is “somewhat like parsley, but greater, greener, and more bitter.” Sweet cicely, or sweet chervil, is a kind of myrrh--“it adds a marvellous good relish to a sallet,” and the roots may be preserved or candied. The genial Culpepper, in his “English Physician Enlarged” (1565), has much to say as to the astrological virtues of the different herbs, and although his ascription of plants to their respective planets must be taken _cum grano salis_, yet he is wonderfully near the mark in many instances which he quotes as to the effect of the herb if taken as a medicine. This, for instance, is what he has to say about balm: “It is a herb of Jupiter and under Cancer, and strengthens nature much in all its actions. It causeth the mind and heart to become merry and reviveth the heart, especially of such who are overtaken in sleep, and driveth away all troublesome cares and thoughts out of the mind arising from melancholy or black choler.”
Nowadays we certainly neglect herbs, although here and there an old-fashioned gardener plants his herbs from year to year. There are still quaint old herb shops in Covent Garden, where the “simples” of our grandmothers may be bought; and there are curious customs at the Guildhall and the Old Bailey of the presentation of bunches of herbs to the presiding justices as a reminiscence of the time when their perfume was supposed to counteract the germs of plague.
It is easy to cultivate a herb garden, and amid modern “improvements” of flowers of all sorts it imparts a delightful old-world fragrance to the completeness of the pleasaunce. Moreover, herbs make the most exquisite addition to nearly every form of cookery.
Reverting to Lent and its customs, it is notable, according to old John Selden’s “Table Talk” (1689), that “our meats and our sports, much of them, have relation to Church works. The coffin of our Christmas pies in shape long, is in imitation of the cratch; our choosing kings and queens on Twelfth-night hath reference to the three kings. So, likewise, our eating of fritters, whipping of tops, roasting of herrings, Jack of Lents, etc.--they are all in imitation of Church works, emblems of martyrdom. Our tansies at Easter have reference to the bitter herbs; though at the same time, it was always the fashion for a man to have a gammon of bacon to show himself to be no Jew.”
We have it (on perhaps somewhat doubtful authority) that the most ingenious method of fasting is that recorded in the “Mappemonde Papistique,” wherein it appears that a Venetian saint had certain boxes made like mass books, and these book-boxes were filled, some with Malmsey wine, and some with the fleshiest parts of capons and partridges. These were supposed to be books of devotion, and the saint is said to have lived long and grown fat on them.
A peculiarly villainous form of torture was invented by Galeazzo Visconti (1355), which was known as Galeazzo’s Lent, because it was guaranteed to prolong the life of the unfortunate victim for forty days. This seems to have been one of the few traits of inherited family cruelty in a man who otherwise was a sort of Mæcenas of his time. He was a friend and patron of Petrarch, founded, under his direction, the University of Pavia, and brought together a considerable library.
According to Walsh, it is not generally known that the use of flesh, meat, eggs, and milk during Lent was forbidden in England, not only by ecclesiastical but also by statute law, even into the time of William III. Any violation of the law was followed by dire penalties. There is the case of the landlady of the Rose Tavern, St. Catherine’s Tower, London, in whose house during the Lent of 1563 was found a quantity of raw and cooked meat. She and four other women who were proved to have partaken of the forbidden viands were put in the stocks all night. In 1570 was passed a statute making the penalties for violating the Lenten laws sixty shillings and three months imprisonment.
Finally, as an apposite curiosity, I will quote a curious dispensation granted two hundred and seventy-six years ago and formally recorded in the parish register of Wakefield.
“To all people to whom these presents shall come, James Lister, Vicar of Wakefield, and preacher of God’s word, sendeth greeting: Whereas Alice Lister wife of Richard Lister Clerke who now soiourneth with her sonne Willm Paulden of Wakefield, by reason of her old age & many years & state, and long-contynued sickness is become so weake, and her stomack so colde, not able to digest colde meates and fish, who by the counsell of Physicions is advised to absteine from and to forbeare the eateng of all manner of fruits, fish and milk meates: Know yee therefoor for the causes aforesaide and for the better strengthening & recovery of her health, I the saide James Lister do hereby give & grant libertie and licence to her the saide Alice Lister att her will and pleasure att all tymes, as well during the tyme of Lent, as upon other fasting daies and fish daies (exhibiting by the laws to eate flesh) to dresse and eate such kind of fleshe as shal be best agreing to her stomach & weake appetite. In witnes hereof I the saide James Lister have hereunto sett my hand the eight day of ffebuary in the sixt year of the Reine of our Soveraigne Lord Charles by the Grace of God King of England Scotland ffrance and Ireland Defender of the Faith &c and in the yeare of our Lord god 1630 James Lister.”
INDEX
A
Aberdour oysters, 166
Abstinence, 247
“Academy” menu, 139
“Accomplish’d Housewife,” 84
“Accomplish’d Lady Rich’s Closet,” 109
“Acetaria,” 64, 257
Acrostic dinner, 138
Acton, Eliza, 151
“Adam’s Luxury and Eve’s Cookery,” 84
Addison, 106
Ætius, 176
Agris of Rhodes, 112
“Alarm to all Persons,” 84
“Alchemist, The,” 39
“Alice in Wonderland” menu, 142
“All’s Well That Ends Well,” 86
“Almanach des Gourmands,” 44, 225
America and snails, 207
American dinner, 117
„ oysters, 183
Amory, Blanche, 23
Angel pie, 151
Anthony, Saint, 63
Apprenticeship of cooks, 239
“Archidipno,” 71
“Art of Cookery made Plain and Easy,” 85
“Art of Dining,” 88
Artificial snails, 213
Arundel, Earl of, 206, 209
Ashburn (or Ashburner), Mrs., 85
“Atall, Dr.,” 83
Athanasius, Saint, 63
Athenæus, 39, 178
Athenian waiters, 201
Atlantus, 112
Austen, Jane, 22, 27
Austrian snails, 215
Autun, Bishop of, 206
Avignon, Legate of, 252
Ayen, Duc d’, 225
Azèma, 227
B
Baba, 226
Babiroussa, 233
Ball-supper menu, 147
“Ballade of Simpson’s,” 53
Ballantyne, James, 105
_Ballotine de Perdreau Souvaroff_, 152
Banana menu, 142
Banks, Sir Joseph, 71
Banville, Th. de, 42
_Barbe de Capucin_, 103
Barlow on hasty pudding, 43
Baskets, Luncheon, 99
Bavarian menu, 150
“B.C. The First Oyster,” 168
Beans as incentive to murder, 245
Beaufremont, Prince de, 225
Beaumont and Fletcher, 87
Béchamel, Marquis de, 223
Beckford, 252
Beef, Corned, 37
Beef Steaks, Society of, 57
_Béhague_, 12, 13
Bell, Peter, 32
Benger, 156
Bennett, Mrs., 27
Béranger, 42
Berchoux, J., 46, 48
Beresford, Rev. Mr., 82
Berkeley Hotel, 25
Berri, Duchesse de, 222
Bertrand, 223
Besant, Sir Walter, 104
_Bibliophile, Jacob le_, 231
Bill of fare, 139
Bingley, 27
Birch of Cornhill, 31
Black, Professor, 217
Blair, Mrs. Hy. W., 118
Blake, Wm., 93
_Blinis_, 115, 149
Blue Posts, Cork Street, 31
“Book of Menus,” 16
“Book without a Name,” 3
“Book of the Table,” 14
Booth, J. L. C., 202
Borodino, Battle of, 90
_Bortsch_, 22, 115
Boswell, 82
_Boudin de Poulet à la Richelieu_, 225
_Bouillabaisse_, 42
Boulanger, 236
“Bourgeois Gentilhomme,” 234
Bradyphagia, 90
Braithwaite, 239
Brallaghan, 45
Briggs, Richard, 126
Brillat-Savarin, 11, 23, 175, 226
Bristol Waters, 40
“British Birds,” 45, 60, 72
British boy cooks, 239
British Waiters’ Association, 200
Brookfield, Chas., 75, 251
“Brookfield, Mrs., and Her Circle,” 251
Browne, Sir Thomas, 62
Browning, 42
Burke, Edmund, 7
Burns, 42
Byron, Lord, 62, 68
C
Cade, Jack, 63
Cadmus, 15
Café de la France, 232
_Cailles à la Mirepoix_, 222
“Cakes and Ale,” 151
_Canard à la Rouennaise_, 146, 147
Capus, Alfred, 147
Caraffa, Cardinal, 68
Carême, 5, 97, 135, 227, 234
Carlingford oysters, 166
Carlton Club, 251
„ Hotel, 22, 93, 138, 149
Carr, 88
Carroll, Lewis, 170, 189
“Causerie Culinaire,” 228
C. C. R., 61
Cecil, Hotel, 26
Cedd, Saint, 243
Celsinius, 224
Cervantes, 29
Champeaux’ Restaurant, 132
Chapelle, Vincent de la, 225
Chaptal, 70
Chariades, 112
Charles V of Spain, 206
_Chartreuse à la Cardinal_, 225
_Chartreuse à la Mauconseil_, 223
Chartreux, Prior of, 252
Chateaubriand, Origin of, 132
Chatillon-Plessis, 47
Chaucer, 62
Cheese recipe, 52
Cheremetoff, Prince, 187
“Cheshire Cheese,” Fleet Street, 31, 46
Chesterton, G. K., 129
_Chicorée de Bruxelles_, 103
Chinese Books on Behaviour, 110
„ menu, 119
„ restaurant, 118
Christmas cookery, 125
„ dinner, 128
„ menus, 127, 128
Cicero, 176
Clams, 117
Clark, Sir Andrew, 157
Cleopatra, 63
“Clinker, Humphry,” 6, 40
Close, 148
Clough, Arthur Henry, 43
Cochin, 49
Cogan, 67
Coigny, Duc de, 225
“Cloister and the Hearth,” 245
Colchester epitaph, 166
„ Oyster Feast, 180
Coleridge, S., 42
“Colin Clout,” 248
Collins, Mortimer, 45, 59, 72
Commodus, 224
“Compleat Cook,” 84
_Consommé Sarah Bernhardt_, 227
“Cook Book, The Poetical,” 43
“Cookery, Art of,” 44
Cookery and Food Association, 90
Cookery of snails, 211
„ Roman, 40
“Cook-maid’s Garland,” 54
“Cook’s Director,” 84
Cooper, E. H., 238
_Cordon Bleu_, 3
Corks, 193
Corned Beef, 37
Corneille, 108
_Cornez le diner_, 37
Cosmopolitan dining in London, 113, 117
_Côtelettes de Mouton à la Maintenon_, 221
Coventry, Lady, 104
“Coy Cook Maid, The,” 55
Crabbe, 42
“Cranford,” 28
_Crêtes de Coq_, 102
Criterion Restaurant, 34
_Croustades à la Coquelin_, 227
_Cruzada_, 246
_Cuisinière Poétique, la_, 42
“Culina Famulatrix Medicinæ,” 88
Culpepper, 258
“Cupboard Papers,” 16
Curry, 123
D
D’Albignac, 71
Dallas, E. S., 11, 14
_Dampfnudeln_, 115
Dartmoor mutton, 204
D’Aubigné, 71
Decoration of dinner-table, 159, 161
Defoe, Daniel, 212
“Deipnosophists, The,” 45
Delaney, Mrs., 206
“Délices de la Campagne,” 178
_Demi-deuil_, 23
“De Opsoniis,” 224
Derby-day dinner, 134
„ menu, 134
Desvergers, 75
“Deutsche Medizinische Wochenschrift,” 201
Dickens, Charles, 179, 180
Didius Julianus, 224
Didsbury, P. Z., 190
Dieting, 157
Dieudonné’s Restaurant, 114
Digestion, 92
Dilly, Edward and Charles, 82
_Diner, Le_, 43
Dining fads, 157
Dining in the open air, 95
Dinner, American, 117
„ Christmas, 128
„ Derby-day, 134
„ French, 114
„ German, 115
„ Indian, 124
„ Italian, 114, 123
„ Japanese, 141
„ King Edward’s, 134
„ Parisian, 132
„ Queen’s Guard, 130
„ Royal Wedding, 136
Dionysius, 39
Dipsychus, 43
“Dr. Salmon’s Cookery,” 84
Dodsley on butter, 43
Doran, Dr., 71
Douillet, Le Père, 224
Dresden, Battle of, 90
Driver’s oyster house, 171
Dryden, 42
Dumas, Alex., fils, 74
„ „ père, 4, 42, 228
E
Earl’s Court Exhibition, 95
Eating songs, 41
Echo Pits, Guildford, 209
Edgeworth, Miss, 258
Edinburgh Oyster Feast, 181
Einhorn, Dr. Max, 90
Elephants’ feet, 233
Elliott, Thos., of Tuzzliehope, 105
Elsey, F. H., 208, 209
_Emigré_ salad maker, 71
“English Art of Cookery,” 126
English Menu, 139
“English Physician Enlarged,” 258
“Englishman, An, in Paris,” 228
“Eothen,” 245
“Epicure’s Almanack,” 31
“Epicure’s Year Book,” 16
Epicureanism, 45
Epitaph on Colchester man, 166
Erasmus, 245
Escoffier, 138
_Escudella_, 115
_Estofado_, 115
_Etude sur la Moutarde_, 234
Euphagia, 90, 91
Euthymus, 112
Evans’s, Covent Garden, 34
Evelyn, John, 64, 209, 257
F
Faddism, 156
“Family Cook,” 84
Fasts: different kinds, 247
Feast of Shells, Edinburgh, 181
„ Oysters, Colchester, 180
Fernie, Dr. W. T., 207
_Filets de Lapereau à la Berri_, 222
_Filets de Sole à la Belle Otèro_, 227
_Filets de Sole en Goujon_, 145
_Filets de Volaille à la Bellevue_, 222
Fillets of kangaroo, 233
Fin Bec, 16
First oyster, 168, 169
_Fleisch Brühe_, 115
Fletcher, Horace, 156
Flowers, Japanese grammar of, 160
Food and Cookery Association, 241
“Fool’s Year, A,” 238
Fortnum and Mason, 153
Fourcroy, 70
Francatelli, 212
“Francillon,” 74
Francis of Assisi, St., 243
“Frazer’s Magazine,” 253
French dinner, 114
Fronto, Julius, 224
Fulvius Hirpinus, 177
G
Galen, 65
Galeazzo’s Lent, 261
Galitzine, Prince Léon, 143
Gallienne, R. de, 41
Gambrinus Restaurant, 115
Gardeton, César, 173
Garum, 40
Gascoign Powder, 78
Gaskell, Mrs., 28
_Gaspacho_, 115
“Gastronome, La,” 48
Gastronomes, Réunion des, 17
“Gastronomie pour rire,” 173
Gaudet, 71
Gautier, Th., 42
Gay, 42, 184
Ged, Wm., 255, 256
“Génie, Le, du Christianisme,” 133
Graham, Cunninghame, 29
Grammar of flowers, Japanese, 160
Grand International Hotel, Chicago, 53
“Grand Dictionnaire de la Cuisine,” 232
Gravelot, 49
Green peas from Algiers, 101
Greville Memoirs, 38
Grignon, 234
Gubbins, Mr., 151
Guildford, 209
Gunter’s, 31
“Gentlewoman’s Delight,” 67
George III, 10
„ IV, 57, 135
Gerard’s Herbal, 257
German dinner, 115
„ snails, 214
_Gigot à la Mailly_, 223
_Gigot à la Richelieu_, 225
Gilly-flowers, 66
Gipsies and snails, 207
Gladstone, Mr., 89
Globe Tavern, 126
Gloucestershire snails, 208
Godwin-Austen, Lt.-Col., 209
Goethe, 42, 106
Golden Cross Hotel, 31
Gorse, De la, 225
Gourmands, Almanach des, 44, 225
Gourmets, Female, 23
Goutant, Duc de, 225
H
Halcyons’ nests, 234
Hall, Herbert Byng, 167
Hampshire snails, 208
Hampton’s oyster house, 171
Hardy, Thomas, 170
Hare, W. R., 174
_Haricots verts gris_, 102
Harrison, Wm., 108
Hatchett’s Restaurant, 31
Havana, 141
“Haven of Health,” 67
Hayward, Abraham, q.c., 88
Hearn, Lafcadio, 57
Heine, 42
Helford natives, 166
_Helicin_, 207
_Helix caperata_, 204
„ _pomatia_, 208
Héloise and Abélard, 175
Henry VIII, 244
Heraldic fish, 254
Herbs, 256
Herb shops, 259
Hertford, Lord, 104
Herrick, Robert, 213
Hetzel, P. J., 80
Hieronymus, Saint, 63
Hill, Dr. John, 82
„ Miss, 9
Hirst, Francis W., 217
Hocco, 234
Hoffmann, 90
Holborn Restaurant, 34
Holbrook, Mr., 28
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 183
_Homard à l’Americaine_, 53
Honours, Musical, 36
Hood, Tom, 182
Horace, 176
Horsley, Canon, 209
Hôtel Chapeau Rouge, Dunkirk, 248
Hôtel de la Cloche et de la Bouteille, 233
Hotels, British, 98
Hot-weather dining, 77, 163, 164
Hot-weather menus, 163, 164
“Household of Sir Thomas More,” 93
“Housekeeper’s Oracle,” 6
_Huîtres de Marennes_, 171
„ _d’Ostende_, 171
Hunter, Dr., 88
Hutton, Professor, 217
Huxley, Professor, 168
I
“Illustrated Index of British Shells,” 208
“Impressions de Voyage,” 228
Indian dinner, 124
„ restaurant, 123
Isouard, Nicolo, 186
Italian dinner, 114
„ menu, 123
„ snails, 209
“Italie et la France,” 138
J
Jackanapes-on-horseback, 258
Japanese dinner, 141
„ grammar of flowers, 160
„ menu, 120, 141
„ salad, 74
Jaucourt, M. de, 9
Jenner, Dr., 52
Jerome K. Jerome, 200
Jerrold, Blanchard, 16
Jersey oysters, 166