Part 2
There is little chance to make mistakes in setting the breakfast-table. The hostess has the tray before her, and serves the tea, coffee, or chocolate. At the other end of the table is the principal dish, presided over generally by the master of the house, while biscuit, bread, muffins, or griddle-cakes and potatoes have their posts at the sides. An oatmeal set stands at each place, accompanied by the knife, fork, and spoon, tumbler, napkin, butter-plate—unless the oatmeal course is preceded by one of fruit, when fruit plates, with fruit napkins and finger-bowls, should hold the first place.
With the fresh room, the bright cloth, the shining glass and silver, the vase of flowers, the appetizing food, one must be either very dyspeptic or a confirmed pessimist who does not feel a slight rise of spirits as he takes his place at the breakfast-table.
MORE ABOUT BREAKFAST
In the majority of the homes where fruit is served for breakfast it appears as a first course. Countless are the headaches to which this custom has given rise among those whose stomachs resent the introduction of the acid as the earliest nourishment of the day. The choice should always be given each eater between beginning with fruit or reserving it as a final course. When it is served last it acts as a pleasant neutralizer of the solid or possibly greasy food that has been already consumed, and sends one from the table with what children call "a good taste" in the mouth.
The habit of eating some cereal for breakfast is happily becoming almost universal. There are comparatively few households in which porridge of one sort or another does not appear on the breakfast-table, and it is usually relished by both children and elders. It need not be always of oatmeal. There are numerous varieties of cereals in the market at present, and an occasional change will prevent any one's wearying of the wholesome dish. With cracked wheat, cerealine, wheat-germ meal, wheatena, wheat, oat, and Graham flakes, corn-meal mush, hominy boiled plain, hominy boiled in milk, and a number of others to choose from, there is no reason why any one should have occasion to complain of monotony. Cream adds greatly to the toothsome qualities of any one of these preparations, and may usually, even in the city, be procured in sufficient quantities to allow a modicum for each of the elders. The healthy appetites of the children rarely need this encouragement.
The tea should always be made on the table when it is possible, as by this means there need be no doubt that the water used in its concoction is actually boiling. The "loud-hissing urn" is a decided addition to the beauty and brightness of the table, especially when the "urn" is in the form of a pretty brass or copper kettle, swinging from one of the tall cranes known as a "five-o'clock tea." Some people prefer making the coffee on the table too, and this is possible when a Vienna coffee-pot or a French drip coffee-pot is used. The only trouble is that the coffee in the latter pot is apt to cool before it has stood long enough to extract the full strength of the berry.
The tea-cozy should never be lacking, and it is not a bad plan to have a similar wadded cap with which to cover the coffee-pot. One of the prettiest and best kinds of tea-cozy is the covered Japanese basket with a thick stuffed lining, in which the china teapot is set. These are not costly, and will outwear the ordinary cozy made of silk, woollen, or chamois-skin. When the lining of the basket is worn out, it may easily be renewed.
The substantial part of our American breakfast is not marked by much variety. At nearly all of them will be found the steak, chops, or cutlets, varied once in a while by fish, a hash, or a stew, semi-occasionally by a dish of eggs. Potatoes in some form—stewed, baked, boiled, or fried—are in order, and these are flanked by a plate of hot biscuit or muffins, or oftenest by successive instalments of griddle-cakes.
There is no use in adding further to the diatribes that have been written and spoken against the American breakfast. Such as it is, it appears to be here to stay, and it is a waste of time, breath, and energy to attempt a radical reform. All one can hope to do is possibly to modify it, and lighten its sameness by suggesting dishes that may please the palate and not impair the digestion. The adoption of the Continental breakfast has been vainly urged, and it is an open question whether or not the habit ever survives transportation. The American climate and mode of life differ so much from those of the Continent that other fashions must be followed here than those which prevail there. Many families, who during a long foreign residence have found quite sufficient for their matutinal meal the coffee or chocolate, the rolls and butter, possibly supplemented by fresh eggs or a little marmalade, have conscientiously endeavored to pursue the same custom upon their return to this country. In not a single case within the writer's cognizance has the attempt proved other than a failure, recognized as such at the end of a few months. _Autre pays, autres mœurs._
While the children are still young, the entire family usually breakfasts together. The obligation upon the younger members of reaching their schools at a given hour forces them to be on time, although there are homes in which the wretched practice is observed of permitting the school boys and girls to rush in at the last moment and gulp down a few mouthfuls, hurrying off to their recitations after having thus successfully sown the seeds of future dyspepsia. As the sons and daughters grow into manhood and womanhood, they drift more and more into unpunctual habits. The breakfast-table is left standing well on into the middle of the morning, and sundry _plats_ are kept hot in the oven for Mr. Jack or Miss Mamie, who has been out late the night before. Often the demands of business require the young man to be down in season, but there are no such claims obliging his sister to quit her couch at a—to her—unseasonable hour. As a consequence, what should be one of the family gathering-places becomes little better than a hotel breakfast-room, where the guests come and go as suits themselves. Besides all other considerations, the work of the servants is increased, and their own duties are crowded out by the necessity of being in readiness to serve these tardy ones.
At the first glance it may seem harsh to exact the prompt appearance at the breakfast-table of the girl who has danced until after one o'clock in the morning, and whose head has not touched her pillow until an hour or two later. But the habit of self-indulgence fostered by such concessions, does the girl no good. Is it any harder for her to rise betimes than it is for the weary mother, whose domestic cares forbid her lying in bed? Does not this indolence to a certain degree unfit the daughter for the duties that will devolve upon her when she in turn becomes a wife and mother?
One sensible matron, who still held the reins of family government as firmly when her children were grown as when they were first short-coated, always insisted on promptness at the breakfast-table. "Human beings are gregarious," she would say, "and they should eat together. If you are tired and sleepy, take a nap later in the day, but be on hand at breakfast-time."
Of course there may be exceptions to this rule, and here the maternal judgment must appear. More privileges can be allowed to the delicate, nervous girl, than to the strong, robust one; but then the former should avoid late hours and dissipation. An occasional morning nap does no harm; but there is little rhyme or reason in permitting the young, healthy members of the family to be the lie-abeds.
Without encouraging any disposition to "finicalness" concerning food, special attention should be paid to individual preferences in catering for the family breakfast. Children are apt to take whims, and these should not be fostered; but when either a child or an older person has a decided distaste for some article of food, he cannot be forced into a fondness for it. Better is it to humor his idiosyncrasies by preparing something that he will eat. In a private family it may be out of the question to cook a separate breakfast for each one, but a little forethought will enable the housekeeper to so arrange her _menu_ that every one will have at least one dish to his or her taste. This is not a difficult matter, unless there is the unusual combination of a large family and very distinct preferences. Generally there is so much in common that trifling varieties in the bill of fare will accommodate each person.
THE INVALID'S BREAKFAST
For the invalid there is often no possibility of the slight stimulus to appetite produced by the change of air from one room to another. Breakfast, the hardest meal of the day to many well people, is doubly difficult to one who must eat it in the same room where she has spent the night—perhaps many nights—of feverish restlessness, that has given her a detestation of the bed, the bedroom, and everything connected therewith, chiefest of all being the disgust with herself, the weary, distraught being with aching limbs, heavy head, and ill-tasting mouth.
When feasible, the invalid should be taken from bed to eat her regular breakfast, previously strengthening her by a cup of beef-tea, of chicken or oyster broth, or a glass of hot milk, or of hot milk and seltzer. First of all, however, the face and hands should be sponged off in tepid water and dried quickly, and the mouth well rinsed out. Then, refreshed and stimulated by this and the warm draught, a little more elaborate toilet may be made, always allowing a few moments for the settling of the stomach after the food before the dressing begins. A more thorough bathing, a combing of the hair, a change of linen, the slipping on of a warm dressing-gown, and the moving to another couch or an easy-chair will not be a prolonged piece of work if the attendant is quick and deft, and has everything in readiness for bath and toilet.
A great advantage is gained when the invalid can be wheeled or supported into another room, and have a completely changed air and scene in which to take her meal. But when this is impracticable the room should be well aired before the patient is taken out of bed, and as soon as she is established on her couch or in her chair, and this placed as far as possible from the bed, the covers of this should be stripped off and carried from the room. Every piece of cast-off linen, every receptacle containing soiled water, everything that recalls the fact that this is a sleeping-room and that can be removed, should be banished. A screen should be set between the patient and the bed, and if the chamber still seems close, she should be bundled up while another draught of fresh, pure air is allowed to rush into the room. After all this, when a table bearing an attractive breakfast is moved to the invalid's elbow, she is usually quite ready to partake of it.
In many cases it is out of the question for the patient to leave her bed, and then the coaxing of the appetite is a more difficult task. The very fact of being in bed seems to render eating almost an impossibility to some people. The woman who complained petulantly that everything she ate in bed tasted of the blanket and pillows, only voiced the sentiments of a multitude of her sisters. Among some women, breakfast in bed is esteemed a luxury; but it is one thing to take it there from choice, and quite another to be forced to do so by weakness or ill-health. Still, with due care, it may be made less distasteful than would seem practicable at the first glance.
The preliminary sponging, mouth-washing, and hot drink should take place in this as in the other case. Then, after a brief rest, during which the windows should have been opened for a few minutes, and closed long enough to allow the room to regain a comfortable temperature, the task of rearranging the bed and its occupant should be begun. Clean linen and pillows should be at hand, and the patient be sponged off, have her hair combed, be arrayed in another night-dress, moved to the other side of the bed, and provided with a fresh pillow, as expeditiously yet gently as may be. Then, when the soiled clothing has been removed, the room been once more aired and warmed, the patient may be raised on pillows and her breakfast brought to her. There is an admirable little table which may be arranged above the patient's knees, and is a great comfort to any one compelled to take her meals in bed for any length of time.
Nothing should be left untried to render the invalid's breakfast tempting. The tray should be covered with a spotless cloth, the china, silver, and glass should be of the best the house affords, and the same napkin should never be offered a second time.
The tea or coffee cup and the egg-glass should be filled with boiling water, that they may not cool what is put into them. A pretty little pot should hold the tea or coffee, and there should be a tiny cream-jug and sugar-bowl. A vase containing a few flowers, preferably those without a heavy perfume, should grace the tray, and in the preparation of the food every evidence should be given of the loving thoughtfulness that has left unsought no means of lightening the discomfort of the sufferer. Where there is no bed-table, there should be another tray, smaller than that in which the breakfast is brought. This may then be placed on a stand or chair beside the bed, while the other holds the cup or plate upon the patient's lap. A large napkin or clean towel should always protect the bedclothes from food that may possibly be spilled upon them, for few things are more unpleasant to a sick person, especially to one afflicted with a squeamish stomach, than the sight of a spot of egg, coffee, or grease on sheet or spread. When such an accident occurs, the stained article should always be promptly exchanged for a fresh one.
The meal over, every vestige of food and every reminder of the repast should be at once removed, the patient's face and hands again sponged off, the pillows shaken and turned, and the invalid's position changed. Should any odor of food remain, the room may once more be aired.
Peace and quiet must reign while the invalid eats. If visitors are to be admitted it must not be at that time. Only one or possibly two members of the family, and those the quietest ones, may be present, and the conversation must be pleasant and cheery. No distressing topics must be broached, no references except encouraging ones made to the invalid's state of health. In the delicately balanced condition of nerves which generally afflicts a sick person, very little will serve to upset the equilibrium and to effectually banish appetite.
All that love's ingenuity can suggest should be done to provide a variety of food for the invalid. After a little while she usually tires of what impatient men, under similar circumstances, stigmatize as "slops," and wearies for something more substantial and appetizing than gruels, broths, and soft toast. In those cases where solid food is forbidden by the physician, catering is more difficult, but often a convalescent is permitted to eat a greater variety of food than is offered her. Cream soups, clear soups, broiled birds, a bit of tenderloin steak, a lamb chop, a tiny baked omelet, raw, stewed, and roast oysters, broiled and fricasseed chicken, poached and soft-boiled eggs, a bit of venison, dishes of rice, sago, and tapioca, jellies, custards, blanc-manges, fruits, plain ice-cream—there is almost no end to the dainty _menus_ that can be arranged. Every meal should be a surprise; there should be no discussion in the invalid's presence of what she can eat, although every reasonable wish she expresses for any article of food should be gratified, if feasible. The sick one's lot is hard enough at the best, and no expedient should be left untried to ameliorate it.
A BREAKFAST-PARTY
Large breakfasts, or _déjeûners à la fourchette_, are not a very common form of entertainment in this country, and yet they may be made charming. Unlike luncheons, where there are usually only women present, both men and women may be invited to a breakfast. The hour is usually twelve, although it may be a little earlier or later. One o'clock is the latest hour which it is advisable to set for a breakfast.
The number of guests invited is optional, but a small party, consisting of from six to twelve, is pleasanter than a crush. Indeed, unless one has an exceptionally spacious _salle à manger_, it is difficult to accommodate comfortably more than a dozen guests, and an over-crowded table is always unpleasant. The writer preserves a vivid memory of a dinner she once attended where fourteen people were packed about a table of the proper size for ten guests. There was hardly room for the waiters to pass the dishes between the _convives_. Each one elbowed his neighbor, and what might have been a delightful repast became a struggle at close quarters with the difficulties of getting through the courses without nudging his next companion, knocking over his glass, or materially interfering with his eating.
At a ceremonious breakfast the table should be spread with a handsome breakfast or lunch cloth, either of pure white, hem-stitched or adorned with drawn-work, or one containing more or less color. If the table is very handsome, the cloth may be left off. The floral ornamentation is less formal than at a dinner. There may be a bowl of flowers in the centre of the table, but quite as pretty as this are three or four graceful vases scattered here and there, each holding a few choice blossoms, and supplemented, if the table is large, by a few tiny globes or little dishes filled with short-stemmed flowers that look well, massed, like pansies, violets, primroses, etc., mixed with plenty of delicate feathery green. If a central ornament for the table is desired, there is nothing prettier than a wicker or metal basket filled with growing ferns, grasses, or lycopodium, with possibly one or two plants in bloom among them.
In setting the table for a large breakfast, a plate, napkin, water-glass, and a butter-plate holding a tiny pat or ball of butter, are laid at each place, and a salt-cellar also, if individual salts are used. At the right of each plate is the silver butter-knife, and one other knife; to the left is the fork. The taste of the hostess must decide the point of placing more small silver than is needed at each course by the plates when the table is first spread. Laying it all at once saves waiting, but some good authorities ordain that a waiter should bring in a fresh knife and fork with each course for each guest, while others, equally reliable, advocate placing the knife and fork upon a cold plate in front of each person at the beginning of every course. The guest instantly removes them, and a hot plate is substituted by the waiter for the cold one before the next dish is passed. This system involves much additional waiting, and should not be attempted unless an exceptionally well-trained butler is in charge.
The little dishes of bonbons, _marrons_, and _glacé_ fruits that are always _en règle_ at a luncheon should not appear on the breakfast-table. There may, however, be olives, radishes, and salted almonds placed here and there.
The first course should consist of fruit. The plates, holding each its doily, finger-bowl, fruit-knife, fork, and spoon, may be on the table when the guests enter the room, or be put there as soon as they are seated. The variety of fruit offered must be decided by the time of year. When they are in season, nothing could be more delicious than big strawberries, served uncapped. These may be passed in a dish, and each guest allowed to help himself. Sugar into which to dip the berries may then be served to each. Prettier still is it to place in front of each guest a plate bearing a tiny decorated basket filled with the berries. The sugar may be in tiny individual sugar-cellars or be passed in a bowl. Unless the berries are fine large ones, it is better to serve them hulled, and to eat them with sugar and cream. In that case they are eaten from saucers.
Peaches, pears, apricots, nectarines, etc., in summer, and oranges, apples, mandarins, bananas, and the like in winter, all add greatly to the beauty of a breakfast-table when they are garnished with leaves and heaped upon a large flat salver, or in a cut-glass bowl, or an open-work one of china or silver.
After the fruit may come a course of oysters cooked _à la poulette_, broiled, steamed, panned, or in croquettes. For these may be substituted lobster or crab in some form, if preferred, or both the oysters and the other may be served in successive courses. Next may come some such _entrée_ as sweetbreads roasted, broiled, fricasseed, or in _vol-au-vent_ with mushrooms, or chickens may be served in some such dainty form as _pâtés_, _timbales_, _à la marengo_, or _au suprême_. Next are chops, cutlets, or small beef tenderloins, with potatoes in some fanciful style. There should be no other vegetable. French bread or rolls must be passed frequently.
The next course may consist of a game pie, either cold or hot, or of boned fowl, and may be followed by a salad. The name of these is legion, but the plain lettuce salad is better reserved for dinner, and in its stead at breakfast there may be served something like tomatoes and lettuce with mayonnaise dressing, celery mayonnaise garnished with radishes, and accompanied by crackers and cheese, or a fruit-salad of oranges, grape fruit, or pineapple.
The dessert may be of any cold sweets, and if ices are used they should be of the punch order—one of the many varieties known as Roman, Siberian, creole, cardinal, etc. If crackers and cheese are not served with the salad, they may be passed at the close of the breakfast. Brie, Gorgonzola, or Roquefort may be used.
At a breakfast of ceremony the tea or coffee tray is never placed on the table, but breakfast coffee or cocoa is served in large cups after the fruit, and is passed by the butler, instead of being poured by the hostess. Tea may also be offered. Wines are not strictly _selon les règles_ at a breakfast, although occasionally claret is served about the middle of the meal.
The waiting at such a breakfast as this is about as ceremonious as it would be at a luncheon. No large dishes are placed on the table, but everything is passed by the butler or waitress. Each dish may go the rounds, and the guests be allowed to help themselves, or a plate containing a portion may be placed by the butler in front of each person. The guest always helps himself to cheese and _hors-d'œuvres_, but the ices are served separately on plates. _Bouquets de corsage_, _boutonnières_, cards and _menus_ are not necessary at a breakfast.
A wedding breakfast is conducted on much the same line as that described above, except that there are usually fewer hot and more cold dishes served, such as salmon, lobster, or chicken _à la mayonnaise_, boned turkey and chicken, _pâté-de-foie-gras_, jellied tongue and fowl, and a greater variety of such sweets as creams and jellies. Wines, too, are quite _comme il faut_.
The giving of a breakfast need not be a matter of dread to the hostess who has confidence in her cook and waitress. The _menu_ suggested may be so modified or increased as to make it as simple or as elaborate as preference may dictate. A breakfast is a pleasant style of entertainment, for, while both sexes are admitted, as at dinner, there is not the formality of dress essential at that meal, the men appearing in morning coats, and the women in handsome high-necked and long-sleeved house or calling costumes.
FAMILY BREAKFASTS FOR SPRING