plication and confusion which often appears in culinary directions and receipts. But the gastronomic art is a simpler one than the effusions of some of its professors might lead the wholly uneducated to believe; and the complicated productions originated by some of its past and greatest practitioners are as unnecessary as are the long and complicated prescriptions formerly in vogue with the leading physicians of past time. Both were the natural outgrowth of an age when every branch of technical education was a "mystery," and when those who had attained the meaning thereof magnified their craft in the eyes of the vulgar by obscuring what is simple in a cloud of pedantic terms and processes. But that age and its delusions are passing away, and it is high time for simplicity in the practice of cookery to take the place of some useless and extravagant combinations and treatment which tradition has handed down.
At the present day it appears desirable, before all things, to secure the highest quality of all produce, both animal and vegetable; a respectable standard being rarely attained throughout our country in regard to the products of the latter kingdom. Great Britain has long held, and still maintains, the first place as to quality for her beef and mutton; in no other country in Europe—I can not speak of America—is it possible to obtain these meats so tender, juicy, and well developed. The saddle, the haunch, the sirloin, and the round, so admirable on occasions, are only in danger of suffering here, like intimate friends, from too great familiarity with their charms. But even our standard of quality in meat has been gradually lowered, from the closer struggle, year by year, to produce a fat animal in a shorter space of time than formerly; a result which is accomplished by commencing to feed almost exclusively on oil-cake at a very early period of life. The result of this process is, that size and weight are attained by a deposit of fat, rather than by the construction of muscular fiber, which alone is true meat; while, as a necessary consequence, the characteristic flavor and other qualities of fully developed beef and mutton are greatly wanting in modern meat.
Much more unsatisfactory is the supply of vegetable and dairy produce to our great city, particularly of the former. It must be confessed that our market at Covent Garden, in relation to capabilities for effective distribution of fresh vegetables, etc., would disgrace a town one fifth of the size of London. Nineteen twentieths of its inhabitants can not obtain fresh green food on any terms, and those who succeed pay an exorbitant price. I think I am right in saying that a really new-laid egg is a luxury which a millionaire can scarcely insure by purchase; he may keep fowls, and with due care obtain it, not otherwise. The great staple of our bread, commonly called "baker's bread," is unpalatable and indigestible; and I suppose no thoughtful or prudent consumer would, unless compelled, eat it habitually—used as it nevertheless is by the great majority of the inhabitants of this
