Everyday Luncheons/Luncheon Wise and Luncheon Foolish
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LUNCHEON FOOLISH
Judging by the various books on the subject of Luncheons, people do not eat at noon unless they have company. It is very probable that this is often the case, especially among women. The man who goes to a lunch counter and regales his inner self with pie and coffee is not so much of a sinner against health, happiness, and prosperity as the woman who pauses in her daily toil only long enough to nibble at the "left-overs" in the refrigerator.
Far be it from us to advocate an elaborate luncheon for anyone who is not entertaining or being entertained. The apostles of the "simple life" have taught us better than that. In a recent discussion of the subject one woman summarized it thus: "I want something hot and I want to sit down."
What widespread improvement there would be in the feminine disposition if every woman, at noon, sat down and had "something hot"!
Properly to perform its various duties, the body requires energy, and energy comes from food. A furnace supplied at noon with two or three cinders and a shovel full of ashes, would not be expected to heat the house sufficiently during the afternoon. Yet a woman hopes to finish her day creditably on the fuel supplied at noon by cream puffs, ice-cream soda, or nothing at all.
Too much cannot be said in favor of regular hours for meals. Midway between breakfast and dinner there should be a nourishing luncheon, not elaborate in quality or quantity, but sufficient. Expensive machinery is oiled at stated intervals. Furnaces are supplied with coal each day at approximately the same hours. The jewellers who deal in expensive watches will advise winding the watch at exactly the same hour each night. Does not the human body mean as much to the soul that dwells in it as a watch or a furnace?
People who do not take time to eat and sleep, presently are obliged to take time to die. People who, from false notions of economy, live upon improper food, are shortly put to the greater expense of a funeral. It is better to spend the money on porter-house steaks, fresh vegetables, fruits and eggs, than upon wreaths and "gates ajar." The one who leads the procession, with his friends riding behind him in carriages might better have postponed this particular entertainment for a few years, and, it is not too much to say that in most cases it could be done, by taking more time to live while engaged in the business of living.
The gentlemanly bricklayer and the enterprising carpenter has each his "hour" at noon. Men and women higher in the social scale would gasp at the idea of taking a whole hour out of the middle of the day, when the tide of life runs swiftest. And yet, why not?
Periodical literature furnishes many amusing incidents of women who are "taken by surprise" when a guest suddenly appears at luncheon time. One such story tells of a woman at whose house a club committee met, early in the morning. The session was protracted till past the luncheon hour, and presently the hostess excused herself
In half an hour, she appeared and invited the committee into the dining-room. There a table was spread with the snowiest of napery, the most exquisite of china, the most gleaming of silver. The "feast of reason" was simply brown bread and butter and tea, which was offered "without a word of apology."
Leaving out the apology, the committee, as well as the hostess, should have had something more than brown bread and butter and tea. An emergency shelf in the store-room is an ever-present help in time of trouble, and yet the point is simply this—every woman should provide for herself at noon such a luncheon as she would not be ashamed to ask a friend to share with her.
Another story, of a different sort, is told by a well-known authority in household matters. She had two friends, a mother and daughter, who were "very, very poor." She dropped in unexpectedly upon the V. V. P. people and found them at their noon luncheon, which she shared willingly when asked.
The V. V. P. people were seated at a table covered with an immaculate cloth of the very finest quality—probably one of the pattern cloths which come at twenty-five dollars—the china was fine and thin, and the silver solid. The simple and informal luncheon of the V. V. P. people consisted of a cream soup, with whipped cream on it, Hamburg steaks, with a garnish of fringed celery, French fried potatoes, crackers, imported cheese, a fruit salad, tea, and a "delicious apple pudding." With all due respect to the household authority, someone must have hinted to the V. V. P. people that she was coming unexpectedly to luncheon. This also, as the lady takes pains to emphasize, was given "without apology."
The unexpected guest at luncheon has not escaped the finely barbed pen of the satirist. An imaginary hostess was confronted by a large party of women, most of them strangers, who "dropped in" to luncheon. She was distressed only for lack of dessert. "Proceeding to the pantry," writes the satirist, speaking for the imaginary lady, "I discovered on the shelf before me one cupful of butter, two cupfuls of sugar, three cupfuls of flour, four eggs, one cupful of milk, and two teaspoonfuls of baking powder. These materials I at once mixed into a delicious cup cake and the question of dessert was solved."
Another satirist, with a more trenchant pen, writes of another imaginary lady who was confronted by seven unexpected guests for luncheon when there was absolutely nothing in the house. Being a woman of resource, she made no apologies—they never do in the stories—and within half an hour invited her guests to partake of a particularly fine stew. The hilarity of the occasion was marred only by the four-year-old son of the hostess, who persistently mourned for his lost kitten. Surely satire could go no further than this!
A lively form of entertainment has been recently in vogue. Housekeepers gather together, and the hostess distributes pencils and slips of paper. Each woman writes on as many slips of paper five "left-overs" likely to be in any refrigerator at any time. These are all shaken up together and each woman draws five. The problem is to get up the best possible luncheon from the "left-overs" on the five slips, and the one who does the best with her materials gets the prize.
It would seem to be a stirring sort of party, and well calculated to try the wits of the guests. It reminds one, however, of a remark of a famous English critic in reference to the average novel-reader, who takes up a book merely for excitement. "The reader, nowadays," quoth the critic, "is in the position of a toad under a harrow."
This would seem to portray, also, the emotions of a guest at an Emergency Party of the kind described above. If anyone feels inclined to give such a party, the author and publisher of this book would modestly suggest that nothing better could possibly be found for a prize.
A luncheon served for only one or two may be just as dainty as the most formal function, and far more satisfactory. A napkin or a carving cloth, spread on the bare table, is all sufficient when time is of great value. A poached egg on a bit of buttered toast, a tomato, made more savory by a spoonful of mayonnaise, a cup of tea, and some simple dessert, is a wise luncheon, if time be taken to serve and eat it properly. A glass of milk and a piece of cake, taken standing by the refrigerator, is a foolish luncheon, no matter who does it.
In the following pages an effort is made to present recipes for luncheon dishes which are simple, quickly made, and not too great a tax upon the woman who is her own maid. Hygienic preparation, quick cooking, and the economical use of the persistent and impossible left-over, are the principles by which the recipes have been judged.
The menus given in the latter part of the book are intended to be merely suggestive and to show how dainty living is possible when only commonplace materials are at hand.
There is a certain "heartening" quality in a cup of tea, if properly made, but milk, chocolate, lemonade, and the various fruit juices should be used occasionally for the sake of variety. In the suggested menus for everyday luncheons, any preferred beverage may be supplied.
When one eats a hearty breakfast, the noon luncheon should be light and consist mainly of fruit. When breakfast is light, the noon luncheon should be of a more substantial character.
There are few of us, who, if we really give our minds to it, cannot find or make time in which to live rightly, and, by living rightly, we live longer, and gain increased happiness for ourselves and our fellow-men.