Carving

84. Dinner Serviette.86. Dinner Serviette.85. Dinner Serviette.87. Dinner Serviette.

The accompanying figures illustrate how to fold serviettes, and present details as to the manner of folding them. Fig. 84 is a dinner serviette (folded) with bread inside. Fig. 85 shows first detail of folding, half the length of serviette. Fold the serviette in 3 thicknesses lengthwise, and turn back one half of the top flap in 3 plaits along the centre line. Fig. 86 shows second detail of folding, whole length of serviette. Proceed by folding the serviette at right angles from the centre. Then trace the dotted line and the waved line which equally divides the triangle formed by the second folding.You will then have Fig. 87, third detail of folding. Trace the two waved lines shown, and fold from the outside towards the centre to form a square underneath the triangle, as shown in Fig. 88, fourth detail of folding. Finish by folding back the corners as indicated by the arrows.

88. Dinner Serviette.89. Breakfast Serviette.90. Breakfast Serviette.91. Breakfast Serviette.92. Breakfast Serviette.93. Breakfast Serviette.94. Breakfast Serviette.95. Marie Louise Serviette.

Fig. 89 is a breakfast serviette (folded), with bread inside. Fig. 90 shows first detail of folding, half the length of serviette. Commence by folding the serviette in 3 thicknesses, and form one half of the top flap into a centre plait. Fig. 91 shows second detail of folding. Turn over and fold the serviette in halves as shown in Fig. 91, and trace the waved lines. Then fold from right and left. You will then have Fig. 92, third detail of folding. Take up the top layer, and fold as indicated by the dotted lines of the triangle. Thus you come to Fig. 93, fourth detail of folding, and Fig. 94, fifth detail of folding. The same manipulation is repeated from the opposite side, and the corners placed under the centre plait. To arrive at a satisfactory result the folding must be done very carefully, and serviettes ought to be very slightly starched by the laundress.

The Marie Louise Serviette.—Open the serviette before you; fold it in half, with the edges at the top; plait 4-5 in. of the damask upwards to within 1 in. of the top, as described in Fig. 95; turn the serviette over, and make a similar plait on this side (seeFig. 96); plait this up crossways in the manner of a closed fan, and with the finger and thumb draw out the points between the folds, as described on the left-hand side of Fig. 97; place the lower part of the fan in a wineglass or serviette ring; it will then assume the appearance represented in Fig. 98.

96. Marie Louise Serviette.98. Marie Louise Serviette.97. Marie Louise Serviette.

Carving.—The following excellent instructions are summarised from a series of articles by D. Q. P., published in theQueensome time since.

Fish.—It is scarcely necessary to state that the duties of the carver do not commence until the fish is on the table; but, granting that fish may be easy to cut up, yet it is quite as possible to mangle and destroy its appearance as it is to destroy the look and flavour of a fowl. Fish requires in its way the same qualities and skill. There should be the same knowledge of the general anatomy, and of the choice and ordinary parts. Delicacies and tit-bits abound in all fish. A fish slice should always be used, and the best form for it may be likened to the sole of a Turkish slipper, the pointed toe turning a little upwards, and the handle springing from the centre of the heel. The fork usually accompanying the fish slice is not by some people considered an absolute necessity, an ordinary dinner fork doing such service as is required.

If a spoon or ladle has to be used, care must be taken never to spill, or make a mess, or heap up a great quantity of what is being helped upon a plate at a time. Avoid jerking, or the slipping of knife, fork, or slice, always keeping the elbows well into the sides, and letting the strength necessary to be exercised come from the hands and wrists. Never, either, grasp your carving implements too near the hilt; rather hold them, as well for the sake of appearance as for cleanliness and neatness, as much at the end of the handle as possible.

Cod.—With regard to codfish, the flaky system of apportionment should generally be adopted, though, under certain circumstances, what applies to the cutting up of salmon may be remembered, with the addition that the liver and the sound of cod, playing as they do very important parts, must be dispensed in fair quantities with each helping of the solid. Very requisite, in dealing with these little adjuncts, is it for the carver to calculate to a nicety the proportions which will allow a taste for everybody at the board.

Cod’s head and shoulders is looked upon by some as a vulgar dish. After delicately slicing away in one or two unbroken flakes a small portion of the solid shoulder, a piece of the gelatinous flesh in and about the jowl should also be placed upon the plate, as this is a particularly nutritious and succulent substance. It is impossible to do much more than to dig out this rather unmanageable substance, clearing away the jaw and other bones, and leaving them upon the dish; though, despite the readiness with which the flesh comes away, it is not always easy to get rid of them entirely, and a few may inevitably adhere to the portions distributed. But, as the characteristic of these helpings must be a certain amount of unsightliness, the bones are of little consequence, and must be expected.

Flounders.—Fried flounders are not by any means to be despised; but of course, like fillets, fried or stewed eels, flounder souchet, smelts, whitebait, and such small fry, need no carving; though “helping” must always be considered as a very material element in the carver’s art.

Gurnet.—The gurnet is not so common as either of the foregoing; it is treated with the fish slice precisely upon the same principles as those prescribed for the haddock.

Haddock.—The haddock, which is generally cooked and served in a curled posture, will best recommend itself to the carver who has an eye to excellence in quality and cookery; the flakes should fall right and left, with a creamy suffusion upon the slightest touch of the fish-knife’s point as it is run down the spine. The thickest or shoulder end of the fish is the best; and if there be a preference, the inner side is likely to be the more delicate, and, therefore, suited to the special or appreciative friend, for whom the carver should always have a thought.

Herring.—The last remark also applies to the fresh herring, when of too great dimensions to form one portion by himself; he, like the red mullet, is more delicate when small in size, just enough for one.

John Dory.—The John Dory is to be carved upon precisely the same principles as the turbot, with additional emphasis laid on the importance of the fin, whilst the skin is in itself an exquisite delicacy—never to be tampered with by the carver. The wart-like growths which mar to some extent the back of the turbot are absent in the John Dory, which may be said to be always the better, the larger he is. His head, important as it looks, does not recommend itself, and, as a rule, being filled with parsley, should be left untouched upon the dish.

Mackerel.—Mackerel, though a simple dish for the carver to attack, must not be passed over without a word. When boiled, it should never be hacked by an attempt to divide it through and through; but the fish slice should be inserted from his tail upwards, to his gills, reserving for a special friend the tail quarter, and, if the fish be in roe, perhaps just a suggestion of an unfair share of the latter. The head and backbone are easily disengaged from the remaining underneath side upon the dish, and there is no question that it is better not to turn it over when this part is to be helped. A broiled mackerel, on the contrary, being split, should be cut through and through, bone and all.

Mullet.—The red mullet, again, makes very little demand upon dexterity, nothing being requisite beyond a fair division, longitudinally, into 2 parts, if the fish be too large for one. The so-called liver, usually just visible under the opening of the gill, is a most precious morsel, and must fairly be apportioned, whilst the head itself presents much pretty picking, the brain not being the least. Small red mullet, however, besides being superior in quality to the large, have the advantage of forming just sufficient for a single portion.

Salmon.—Salmon is a fish which offers very little difficulty to the carver, and so long as a due proportion of thick and thin be neatly cut—again in oblong squares—from the side lying uppermost, nothing remains to be attended to. Thethick, however, must always predominate in quantity, and it is better to begin cutting from the left, and also better, as in the case of the turbot, to raise the bone when the upper side is gone than toattempt to turn the fish over to get at the remaining lower side. The head and tail, though usually despised, and rarely seen at table, have nevertheless some very succulent picking on them, but do not offer much of a field for the carver to display his skill upon. He has but “to help” them as neatly as may be. Equally, this is pretty much all he has to do when the fish is brought to table in slices; he has usually but to make an equal division of the slice, taking care, of course, that each half is made up of thick and thin together.

Shell-fish.—Shell-fish likewise only generally has to be “helped,” being usually cut up before it is sent to table, and therefore does not need more than a word of recognition here; but it maybe permissible to add that the lobster has no part, not even the minutest tendril, that is unworthy of attention.

Sole, &c.—In speaking of the turbot and dory, nearly all has been said that is necessary to guide the carver in his handling of brill, large sole, and plaice.

Turbot.—Lying flat upon its back, plunge the point of the fish slice at once into its thickest folds just below the jowl, and run it down in an imaginary central line to the tail; then split the flesh into oblong squares, each terminating with a due proportion of fin; for remember the fin of the turbot is a delicacy which should never be overlooked. A careful eye should be had to the number of guests to be helped; for if recourse must be had to the under side of the fish, it is well to bear in mind that here the carver will find himself amongst a shoal of starry wart-like growths, by no means agreeable to the masticatory functions. Still, of course, when these are eliminated, there is plenty of good eating on this under side or back of the waistcoat, and it is better to lift the bone away from it (in doing which there is no difficulty, if the fish be well cooked) than to attempt to turn him over when the white front has disappeared.

Whiting.—Fried whiting served in this same form should be very large to be so manipulated; but it is a fairer plan for the consumer than cutting the fish deliberately in half. Thus, both the haddock and the whiting should be helped in portions made up of the largest flakes obtainable, and, if the former be stuffed, naturally some of the stuffing must be placed on each plate.

Meat.—The edge of the knife must be of preternaturally dangerous sharpness, and the fork must not have been used too persistently as an instrument for the extraction of corks. Bright, straight, sharp-pointed prongs, and keen-edged flashing blades, are indispensable for good carving. The round form, slight curve, and rather rough surface common to buckhorn handles, afford a grip and purchase absent from the ordinary straight bevel-edged ones of ivory or bone. Remember that for carving joints the handles of the knife and fork are to be short and the blades and prongs long, and that for game and poultry the very reverse of this is necessary, greater firmness of blade and point in the latter case being requisite.

Beef.—First the sirloin. The fillet or under-cut, being always better when eaten hot than cold, should generally claim first attention. It must be cut transversely into thick slices, like a tongue; as also should be the fat at the thinner end, a portion of which should go with each slice of lean from the thicker. The joint must be turned over, to enable the carver to get at it conveniently; and, according to the number of persons to be helped, he should cut so many slices at once, before setting the bone up in its proper position again. By this means he can, when helping from the main bulk of the joint, give a portion of the fillet to each, without having constantly to turn the joint from one side to the other. Some people prefer that both upper and under side of a sirloin should be cut alike—that is, transversely—and, though generally considered an extravagant way, it is not without its advantages; the chief of these notably being that each slice has an equalisation of brown and juicy meat—there being, so to speak, no outside cut, each help having, in a section, brown and underdone in the same slice. A piece of the fat from the flap or lower end of the joint must, of course, accompany every portion, as in the case of the fillet, and it should be remembered that these two sorts of fat are verydifferent in quality; the under, or fillet, being of a far more juicy, delicate, and tender quality than the upper, especially when hot. The upper, however, accompanied as it is by the crackly edge of skin, is exceedingly toothsome, with a flavour peculiarly its own.

The ordinary plan of carving the sirloin, however, recommends itself to most housewives as the better, from the fact that lean and fat go together necessarily with each slice. It is generally advised that, before slices are cut, the point of the knife should be inserted a short distance between the meat and the bone, both of the chine (or short upright bone) and the rib (or long bone). Then the knife has but to be passed dexterously down the face of the meat, and each slice comes away easily and clean from the edges. Only, of course, those who are helped first, in this instance, get the brown or well-done outside, and those later on the under-done or juicy. Therefore it is always necessary for the carver, as an act of common civility, to ask those whom he is helping whether their preference be for well or under done. Slices of roast beef from the upper side cannot well be cut too thin, when carved in the ordinary fashion, excepting perhaps the first or outside slice, which admits, from its crispness, of having a little more substance. The joint should be kept perfectly straight upon the dish—that is to say, at right angles with the line of sight of the carver—nothing looking worse or more awkward than for the meat to be twisted all awry; and in fact no real facility is afforded by doing so, for, if the carver does but stretch his arms out far enough to bring his right hand and wrist well above the joint, he will find that by holding the knife almost perpendicularly, and cutting downwards, he has, with the support from the fork, all the purchase necessary. On no account, either, may he stand up, set his arms akimbo, or bow his back; all the strength requisite can be exercised from his chair, by inclining the body sufficiently forward. The muscular exertion demanded is seldom greater than most ladies, with practice, can supply, and they should not be deterred by any slight sense of fatigue in the early days of their carving career, as it will prove a gentle exercise well calculated to strengthen their hands and wrists, without in any way disfiguring them.

During all pauses in the carving, the knife and fork should be placed on the knife rests, and never thrust and left under the joint; nor, while the carver adds the gravy to the plate of meat in front of him, with the spoon in his right hand, is it well for him to hold both knife and fork in a bunch, as it were, in his left. To do this gives a slovenly, hasty, eating-house sort of effect to the process, especially if, at the same time, the dish be tilted with the left hand, for the easier filling of the spoon. This is always an inelegant proceeding, calculated to endanger the purity of the tablecloth, by the sluicing of the gravy over the edge of the dish, or, even worse, by the capsizing of the joint itself. A carver cannot be too careful never to make a mess; and if every meat dish has, as it should have, a well, there is no excuse for his doing so. A tiny crust of bread put under one end of the dish to cant it a little, in the absence of a gravy well, is at the most all that can be pardoned in the way of disturbing the equilibrium of the dish. If a portion of the garnish of horse-radish is to go with each helping, it must be dispensed with the points of the fork. The gravy spoon should always be put in a vessel of hot water, and placed at the right hand of the dish, up to the moment of using. So essential, too, are hot plates to a perfect condition of roast meat, that a second plate, for a second helping, is strongly to be advocated; and for the same reason, though a dignified calm should characterise the carver’s behaviour, there should be, on the other hand, no approach to dawdling.

Attention to simple details like these distinguishes the good from the bad carver, and renders the execution of the task rather a graceful act than otherwise. In carving the sirloin and similar ribbed joints, a too pliant blade is not desirable. When, however, we are dealing with a round of beef lying flat before us, or the boiled silver side, or a piece of roast so-called boned beef, the knife cannot well be too yielding, nor, again, the slices cut too thin. Never either omit with this sort ofjoint, where one has to cut directly towards the fork, to raise its finger guard, for, if the knife slip, it will run straight up over the bow of the prongs, to the imminent peril of the carver’s hand. For, of course, in manipulating a piece of meat with the surface to be cut lying uppermost, the left or fork hand is higher than the right or knife hand—nearly the reverse of the position necessary in carving a joint standing upright. In this case the knife is held nearly perpendicularly, the fork nearly horizontally—just, indeed, the contrary to the manner of using the tools for a flat joint.

With the aitch-bone, as with the round of beef, it may be desirable to cut rather a thick slice from the outside before beginning to help; but the habit is wasteful, and should be adopted with judgment. These are not difficult joints to carve, if it be always remembered that a knife with a thin pliant blade is absolutely necessary. Of course a delicate morsel of the fat must go with each serving. The brisket of beef is not a joint very usually to be met with; but it has its merits, and has only to be cut neatly across the bones, to prevent its having a jagged, untidy look on its reappearance at table. What has been said concerning the carving of the sirloin of beef applies in all respects to the carving of the ribs, except that, these having no under-cut, the task is rendered less diversified. The beef tongue must likewise be carved precisely upon the same principles as the sirloin, when that joint is cut transversely, like its fillet; the fat at the root of the tongue, of course, not being overlooked.

Mutton.—All details about knife, fork, spoon, dish, position of joint, and of the body, arms, and hands of the carver—referred to when speaking of beef—are equally necessary with regard to haunch and saddle of mutton. The first thing to be done in carving the former being to make at the knuckle end a deep cut across, down to the bone, with the point of the knife, this forms a basis for a well, into which the gravy will run from every succeeding cut, which ought to pass at right angles to the first incision—that is, all along, in continuous and thick (but not too thick) slices—the whole length of the joint. The moment room at the knuckle end, where the first cut was made, is obtained for the insertion of the spoon, a modicum of the gravy which has accumulated in the hollow should be distributed with each helping, as, of course, it is the richest, being absolutely pure essence of meat. Care too must be taken never to forget putting a little extra fat upon each plate, as the haunch of mutton fat is highly prized; and whoever is most expeditious in assisting the guests may be counted the best carver of mutton, for that it should be piping hot is indispensable.

Saddle should be cut very much upon the same principles as the haunch, and presents no great obstacles to the carver. If a preference be given to carving the slices obliquely instead of straight, the thin end of the saddle should then be on the right of the carver. Each side of the chine or backbone is to be dealt with alike, the first slice always taken from as close to the bone as possible. As the fat lying in the region of the kidneys is held in great estimation, a portion of it should go with every helping; and therefore it is advisable for the carver directly the cover is taken off the joint to tilt the saddle a little on one side, and cut away at once from underneath it as much of this same fat as will be required to go the whole round of the table. He should then slip it all into the gravy well, and thus it will be quite ready for him to help from, otherwise, if this be not done at starting, and attempts are made to get at it after he has begun to cut into the joint, he will in all probability spill the rich gravy settling in the channel made by his first incisions—an unpardonable wasting of good stuff—or he will overlook the kidney fat altogether, to the disappointment of everybody concerned; and the fat is not nearly so good cold as hot.

The popular leg of mutton owes perhaps a great deal of its popularity to the ease with which it may be cut up. Little has to be done, save to pass the knife straight down at right angles with the bone, and not obliquely, as one would carve a ham. Then, according to the preference of the guests, tolerably thick slices from either the knuckle or the upper end may be distributed, the knuckle end being always the betterdone, though not always perhaps the choicest in flavour. Many little fancies and predilections for certain tit-bits will be met with: 2 quaint pieces of brownish, crisply-roasted fat, like ears or little wings, protruding from the upper end of the joint, being, with the Pope’s-eye, notable instances. Some are fond of having this joint dished with the under side uppermost, so as to get at the finely grained meat lying under the Pope’s-eye; but this is an extravagant fashion, and one that will hardly find favour in the eyes of economical housewives.

On the butcher’s proper attention to the process known as “jointing” depends mainly the facility with which a loin of mutton is cut up, and we must not attribute blame to the carver who has to struggle against the neglect by that functionary of this important matter. If it has been rightly attended to, the carving knife can be made easily to find its way between the chine bone, and can then, without any let or hindrance, be passed down through the ribs, separating them one after another, again reserving the outside chop for those who prefer the meat brown and well done. The fat and lean go together with each bone, in common sequence, demanding little or no thought from the carver, save perhaps here and there, where an ugly or rugged bit of skin requires to be trimmed off neatly.

Next to the loin of mutton comes the shoulder, as the joint offering the least difficulty to the carver. The knife has but to be passed from the outer edge of the shoulder across the meat towards the carver, until the bone is reached. Take away slice after slice in this direction, and then resorting to the meat lying on either side of the blade bone, according to the quantity required, in this instance cutting lengthways of the joint. When no more can be obtained from the upper side of the joint, it must be turned, and there are many people who do not consider that they have had the best of a shoulder of mutton until this side is attacked. It will now present almost the appearance of a new joint, being quite flat, and offering a succession of juicy slices along its entire length. These have to be dexterously removed, very much upon the principles recommended when flat joints were spoken of. These slices are preferred for hashing, however, by those who think that the quality of the grain of the meat from this part of the joint renders it inferior at the first cooking to the upper.

It is not necessary, with one exception, to say anything about joints of lamb, for they only have to be manipulated according to the rules laid down for mutton. The exception is a fore-quarter of lamb. In removing the shoulder from the breast—the first point to which he directs his attention—hold the shoulder firmly with the fork, and proceed with the point of the knife to cut through the smoking crisp brown skin in a circular line, at the junction of the two joints. Following the same line for a second time, and now thrusting the knife farther into the meat, a very little exertion with the left hand makes it easy to raise the shoulder from the breast, whilst a pat of butter, a little cayenne pepper, some salt, and a good squeeze of lemon are placed between them by the carver. When, in a moment or two, these ingredients have assimilated with the gravy, it is sometimes, for the sake of convenience, thought desirable to place the shoulder upon another dish, hot, and standing ready at the carver’s left hand, or held there by a servant. This done, inquiry is made of those about to be helped as to their preference for brisket, ribs, or a piece of the shoulder. The brisket should be separated from the ribs by one long cut from left to right, and then subdivided at the distance of one or two bones, by cuts at right angles with the line which separated the brisket from the ribs. These again, in like manner, are divided into chops by carving them similarly to the shorter bones of the brisket, and upon the same principle as when cutting up a loin of mutton.

Venison.—Those who have any experience in carving haunches or saddles of mutton have very little to learn with regard to venison; the principles which guide them in dealing with the former have only to be followed out in the latter. A haunch of venison is carved exactly like a haunch of mutton; but, being somewhat larger, it is advised bysome authorities that the broad end of the haunch, instead of the side, should be turned towards the carver for the purpose of giving him greater command over the joint. This system leads to an entire disturbance of the appearance and general arrangement of the table; and a skilled carver should be independent of such twistings to meet his convenience, except under great emergencies. Epicures pretend that there is a vast difference between the flavour of the slices cut close to the vertebræ and those farther removed, and the carver must make concessions to such notions, and give those whom he is helping their slice from the region which they prefer. Never either must he omit to give a dip of the rich gravy always accumulating in the channel whence the slices are taken, nor an ample portion of fat with the lean. Expedition, but without hurry, is essential in carving venison, as, like mutton, it chills very rapidly: but, as on the whole a haunch of venison is not a difficult dish to deal with, there never should be anything to complain of on the score of delay. As the shoulder of venison is usually sent to table stewed and rolled, the bone having been removed, it presents no difficulty whatever to the carver, and being, so to speak, a fat joint, has to be dealt with according to the principles already laid down. Sometimes, however, the shoulder is roasted, as is also the neck; but these—with braised brisket, fillets, and steaks—do not demand any special comment as to their carving; for what has been learned about cutting up sheep should prove sufficient for the comparatively rare occasions when the carver is called upon to discuss deer.

Veal.—The commonest form in which veal offers itself is perhaps a roast breast, and if a carver has had any experience in cutting up fore-quarter of lamb, he will at once recognise the similarity between a breast of veal and the aforesaid joint of lamb after the shoulder has been removed. Like it, the veal is composed of ribs and brisket, and may be cut accordingly, that is, first, by separating in one long incision the ribs from the brisket, and then the rib bones one by one, after the manner of chops generally. The gristly brisket may be cut in squarish portions, inquiring of course always of the guests whether they prefer the latter or the former. The brown, well-cooked parts in veal are usually most esteemed; and if the sweetbread, as it sometimes is, be sent to table with the joint, it ought naturally to be fairly distributed. Once more, in manipulating the roast fillet of veal, the carver has only to remember what has been said respecting a round of beef, with the addition that a portion of the stuffing, which is inserted between the flap and the main bulk of the meat, be served with each helping, and that the brown outside, or first slice, is considered a very choice morsel.

A knuckle of veal, being in shape somewhat like the knuckle end of a leg of mutton when it has been divided, needs but few directions for carving. The slices from the thicker end are the best; that would be to the right of the first incision into the meat.

The butcher is mainly responsible for the good carving of a loin of veal, for if he have not done his jointing properly, it is hardly possible to cut it up decently; whereas, if he has done his work well, the carver has but to feel his way with the point of the knife, on lines already laid down, to be able to disengage the separate portions—never, by the way, overlooking the kidney, and the kidney fat, lying on the under side of the joint.

It is not very easy to describe the exact method of carving calf’s head, but a little experience and examination of its organic development soon suggests what has to be done. When upon the dish, the nose and mouth should be to the right of the carver, and the first incision should be made right down to the bone, and running all along from the back of the nearest ear down towards the nose, and slices be cut away in the same direction. With each of these should go a piece of what is called the sweetbread of the throat, a substance to be found under the ear, and, so to speak, at right angles with the line of the first incision, and it should be cut towards the carver in the direction in which it lies. Calf’s head has a multitude of succulent morsels, to wit, the ears, the flesh round the eyes, and the eyes themselves. Also the palate, which, lying under thehead, is to be got at when the jaw bone is removed; and where, likewise, some nice lean becomes accessible. On a separate dish, of course, the tongue and brains are served, of which every one is invited to partake.

Sheep’s head is held to be a very vulgar dish, and a lamb’s head, perhaps, only one degree less so. Still he who is unfortunate enough at any time to find himself with the responsibility of carving or helping such viands may take courage if he has any knowledge of what is demanded of him when similarly situated with a calf’s head, the heads of the smaller animals being then very easy of manipulation.

Pork.—Like calf’s head, a sucking pig seems at first sight to be rather an appalling dish, and undoubtedly a little experience is requisite before one becomes quiteau faitwith the business. But the whole substance is so tender, and yields so readily to the knife, that after a slight knowledge of the anatomy of the animal has been acquired, all difficulties vanish. The little piglet generally appears upon the board divided into four parts; the head, like the body, being cloven in twain, a cheek being placed at either end of the carcase. In dealing with the latter, the shoulder has first to be removed by passing the knife circularly round its junction with the body, pretty much as one does with fore-quarter of lamb. The leg is then treated after the same fashion, when the ribs will be open to view, for gentle division. Each side of the animal is disposed of in the same way; the larger joints being considered, perhaps, the least delicate (if, where all is delicacy, there can be a “least”) are usually offered to the robuster appetites at table. As in the case of all dishes abounding in choice morsels, the epicure is sure to have his fancies about sucking pig—one preferring the ribs, another the neck, and a third the meat from the shoulder.

Concerning leg of pork, really little or nothing additional has to be said. The knife only needs to be carried straight down through the crackling to the very bone; as each slice is taken away, such stuffing, gravy, &c., as accompany it, is distributed either from the joint itself or from sauceboats. Allowing for a slight difference in form, it has to be treated like most of the leg joints that come to table, and the same may be said of the loin. As you dispose of a loin of mutton, so do you of a loin of pork, the due value of the crackling, fat, and brown tit-bits being kept in mind. The butcher here again is responsible for the jointing, and the cook for the judicious scoring of the crackling.

Ham alone remains to be noticed in this part of our subject, and according as one wishes to have fine or economical slices, must it be carved. In the first case, the start is made upon the prime part at once; in the second, from quite the lower end of the knuckle, advancing gradually at a gentle angle towards the thicker and prime part of the meat. A pliant, very sharp knife is indispensable, as the slices cannot well be too thin, or too evenly and smoothly cut. It is of little concern to the carver whether the ham be hot or cold, and the same may be said of joints generally.

Odd Dishes.—Very little need be said about “helping” dishes of meat, as part of the carver’s duty, even where no actual knife and fork execution is required. A rump steak, for instance, hardly needs to be carved, but it has to be cut and helped very neatly, and not distributed in irregular mis-shapen hunks, but rather, as a rule, in oblong finger-shaped pieces, with a nice modicum of fat attached, if possible, but certainly going with each portion of lean. And because meat pies again have to be cut and helped, not carved, the carver, so called, must not look upon them as beneath his consideration.

If he thinks that hashes, curries, ragouts, what-not, do not give him a fair field for the display of his skill with knife and fork, and that, therefore, it does not signify how they are helped, he will be grievously mistaken.

Except where a great number of portions have to be served, avoid the use of the knife sharpener at table: it has always an eating-house effect about it. It is disagreeable to the ear and if executed with the flourish of dexterity, not unfrequently is likely to splash right and left; for unless the knife be wiped previously, and this is a veryawkward and unsightly process, some of the juices of the meat inevitably cling to it, to be scraped off against the sharpener, which in its turn is made greasy, and therefore jeopardises the purity of the tablecloth. If, however, a sharpener has to be brought into play, the simplest and most efficacious is the ordinary round butcher’s steel, always supposing the power of using it properly in conjunction with the knife has been acquired. Short of this, the little contrivance consisting of a series of discs overlapping each other, so as to form a wedge-shaped socket with the finest of thin edges conceivable, into which the edge of the knife is dropped and then pushed gently backwards and forwards, is very useful, and may be recommended as fully answering its purpose, and if carefully manipulated entirely without risk. It also is cleaner, less unsightly, and creates less unpleasant noise than the common steel, whilst a child might manage it. At any rate, ladies should always use it in preference to any other sharpening instrument. The habit of feebly drawing the edge of the carving knife downwards, to and fro, against the back edge of another knife, should only be thought of under very pressing circumstances; it is an extremely inelegant action.

Poultry.—Once learn its anatomy and the best method of separating its limbs, and very little more knowledge will enable you to manipulate skilfully any of the feathered tribe. The chicken should lie upon its back at right angles with our line of sight, and its tail end to our left hand. The fine plump breast tempts naturally the insertion of the fork, which should be driven firmly, but delicately, and almost perpendicularly into it, a little to the left of the centre, a prong on either side of the ridge of the breast bone. Secure hold should be at once got by this process of the whole carcase, for if it be intended to cut up the entire fowl at once it may be, and should be all but done without once removing the fork. The next process is to separate the wing, or both wings, and this is done by passing the knife sharply along the line of the breast, as far outside the breast bone as will leave a fair share of meat attached to it, and yet give an ample portion to the wing. Thus, cutting from left to right, and downwards, as we approach the right extremity of the bird, let the knife diverge a little farther outwards, so as to clear the merrythought, and strike the joint of the wing. Unless the creature be of preternatural antiquity, the junction is easily severed, and bone and flesh come away almost with a touch. Having removed both wings in this way, lower the fork hand so as to cant the chicken a little on to its side, and then pass the blade of the knife under the projecting elbow, as we may call it, of the leg, and, forcing it outwards, disengage it too from the body by severing with the point of the knife the joint by which it is still slightly held. Then turn the bird bodily over on to its other side, without removing the fork, and dispose of the second leg in a similar fashion. Restoring then the chicken to its original position, pass the knife transversely across the breast a little to the right of the highest point of the breast bone. Cut down gently, inclining the edge of the blade to the right, press outwards and upwards slightly, and the merrythought comes away. There must be no tearing of the skin; every incision of the knife must go clean through that, for nothing looks worse than to see one portion with the skin half torn away, and hanging in a long ribbon from another. The merrythought is now disposed of by just separating the little joints by which it is still attached when the upper end of its bone has been separated from the breast, and having a nice clean edged covering of skin. Again turn the carcase on to its side, and by an action with the knife, similar to that by which you removed the legs, force away by an upward pressure the two side bones one after the other, that is the two bones which the removal of the merrythought has revealed. There is nothing now to prevent the knife being swept clean through the ribs, and so disengage breast and back. At this stage the fork is withdrawn from the breast, which has now become a trim, tempting, and oblong portion; the back only remains to be dealt with. Turning it over, press the knife firmly down upon the right end of it, and holding it so steadily, lift the left extremity with the fork, and the back is immediately dislocated near thecentre; complete the separation by severing with the knife such portions of skin and flesh as may yet cause the joints still to adhere one to the other. Arrange then all these various portions neatly on the dish, and still assuming that the demolition of the whole bird was necessary, it will be ready to serve, remembering that a piece of the liver should go with that wing which has it not. On some occasions—carving for a large number of children to wit—it may be necessary to divide each leg into two portions by severing the thigh bone from the drumstick, as it is called.

Boiled or roast, such is the mode of cutting up a fowl. Supposing, however, that some special part alone is wanted, say the merrythought, it can hardly be got at without first cutting the wing, or wings; not perhaps disengaging them entirely, but certainly so far as to get at the particular joint required. It ensures neatness in the long run, and it is highly essential that a bird, if it reappears at table, should look neither hacked nor mangled. If a fowl approach the proportions of a capon, it will seldom be well to drive the fork into the breast at starting, because then the first thing to be done is to make the breast yield the utmost number of slices; these should be cut, to begin with, from as close to the wing as possible, working upwards on either side till the breast bone be reached. Only when these, the choicest parts of the bird, are distributed, will it be necessary to go into the dissection of the carcase as aforesaid; and it must not be forgotten that under this method the wings are reduced to what may be called a mere picking.

Very special fancies are found to predominate amongst all who partake of poultry, and it is essential that the carver does not neglect to consult each individual’s predilections. A very little experience, too, will show how indispensable it is to have poultry carving knife and fork in exquisite order. The knife must be firm and sharp-pointed, or it will never disengage anything like stubborn joints.

Duck.—The anatomy of the fowl once mastered, that of the duck or duckling becomes immediately patent to the most casual observer. The slight difference which exists in their general conformation, and which arises chiefly from the legs of the duck being set farther back on the body, is not sufficient to require much additional comment; but it may be said that, whereas the wing of the “flyer” is held in the highest repute, so is the leg of the “swimmer”; and when a very small and tender duckling is under the knife, one wing and leg taken off together, without division, will be no more than enough for one portion. The stuffing is got at by cutting open at its lower end, by a semicircular incision, the little apron of skin just below the breast. This should be done so neatly that it falls back into its place when the spoon is withdrawn, and must on no account be left jagged. Nevertheless, the carver should never put any of the stuffing upon a plate without first asking whether it will be agreeable. Some housewives, when a pair of ducks or ducklings appear, allow only one of them to be stuffed, and this is perhaps wise. As with a large chicken, so with a large duck, the most must be made of its breast by cutting the utmost number of long and delicate slices that it will yield, commencing always as close to the wing as possible. Very marked will be the difference in the apparent amount of separate portions which will be got off a duck by a good and a bad carver; and it is only a little exaggeration to say that the good one will make the bird go twice as far as the bad. All sorts of odd out-of-the-way tit-bits can be got off the carcase by any one who has had the wit to keep a watchful eye on a dexterous knight of the carving knife and fork—for practical carving is learned more thoroughly by watching an expert than by any other means. Amongst the tit-bits of a duck some people look upon the feet as very pretty picking, and they should always appear at table, not only for the above reason, but as giving a character to the dish.

Turkey.—The turkey, though looked upon as the king of the poultry yard, is not by any means a subject that calls for a very unusual amount of skill on the part of the carver. Beyond the fact that care should be taken to cut neatly a succession of long slices from the breast, each with its nice little edge of untorn skin, there is really notmuch for the knife and fork to do. The cutting of slices from the breast should begin as close to the wing as possible, and proceed upwards on both sides, to the ridge of the breast bone. Some people prefer exactly to reverse this process; but it is not important. The stuffing under the breast is got at precisely as in the case of duck. The severing of the wings and legs is only on rare occasions necessary at table, as the breast of the bird usually yields an ample supply for an average number of guests. But in the event of the carver being called on to disjoint a leg or wing, he will only have to draw upon his acquaintance with the anatomy of the chicken. When, on the following day, the remains of a turkey appear in the form of a grill or a devil, the cook should have made any carving of the dish unnecessary.

Goose.—Though the anatomy is similar again to that of the chicken, the greater size and strength of the bird give greater toughness to the joints, and call for the exercise of more force of wrist and hand in their separation. The point of the strong sharp blade must be made to find its way between the bones, as any attempt to cut through them will lead to disaster. Supposing the whole of the breast to be gone, then, and that the leg and wing bones have to be operated on, proceed upon the principles enunciated in the case of the chicken. Turn the bird on one side, and, after forcing with the blade of the knife the projecting angles or elbows of the bones back from the carcase, when coming to the leg, separate the thigh from its socket, which will be a less easy task than in the case of the pinion-bone of the wing. The merrythought, if comparatively a small item for so large a bird as a goose, must be disengaged. The dissection of the remainder of the bird, upon its reappearance as a hash or what-not, will generally devolve upon the cook; but, come in what guise it may, most excellent picking may be found in every quarter. Stuffing is an element of roast goose never to be overlooked; it is to be found and reached in the same way as in the duck. The skin of the apron and elsewhere is, as usual, on no account to be torn off or left ragged, particularly as with this bird it is accounted very choice in flavour.

Guinea Fowl.—Guinea fowl, peahen, or peacock, and other such “strange fowl” as are on rare occasions put before a carver, being in their anatomy sufficiently similar to the turkey for all practical purposes, may be passed over here. Boiled or roast, they must be treated with the same discrimination.

Rabbit.—A rabbit for roasting is somewhat differently trussed to when it is intended for boiling; in the latter case the head is placed on the dish to the right of the carver, and in the former to the left. In both cases, however, the back is the chief point to operate upon. If roast, separate the back on either side from the legs and shoulders; then divide the back into two equal parts; then disengage leg and shoulder one from the other, jointing them according to the number of portions required. If boiled, a very similar process may be adopted; the knife’s point has but to be inserted where a joint appears, and it yields to the slightest pressure. Very seldom is the rabbit substantial enough to justify its treatment after the manner of the hare—that is, by taking slices out of the back, and so on, down to the limbs, without disengaging them; but where the bulk of the animal is sufficient to allow of this, it is certainly the more tempting, easy, and appetising method.

Pigeon.—Beyond bringing into play the strength and neatness which are demanded whenever actual bone has to be severed, there is little to be done with knife and fork. If the bird be divided cleanly into two equal parts by a sharp strong cut right through everything, as it were, from beak to tail, each portion must be further manipulated by those before whom it is placed; the carver has no further concern with it. But should it be necessary to divide a pigeon into 3 portions, then 2 legs and 2 wings will make 2 out of the 3—if, in cutting them off, the carver is careful to leave enough meat on the breast to allow of that being presented as the third.

Game.—Woodcock.—When a woodcock is under the knife and fork, the carver will be very careful to examine the toast, to see that all the trail is upon it, or rather thatthe liver, which is the essential element of the trail, is not still left within the body. To do this he may with a slight touch of the knife, when he has secured the breast with the fork, force back the legs, and so, by disengaging the back, turn the bird as it were inside out; the liver will then fall upon the toast, and should be spread upon it evenly, with the addition of a little pat of butter, pepper, and salt, and a squeeze of lemon. As to cutting up the woodcock, the task is very simple. The bird may be divided into 2 or 3—the breast for one, and each leg and wing for the second and third portions; but, as the back is very small, and yet very choice, it had better be reserved for the special friend, seeing that there is not enough of it to divide; the thighs, however, are accounted almost equalbonnes bouches.

Snipe.—Perhaps the next amongst the “trail birds” to rank with the woodcock, who is the king of them all, is the snipe. He will generally, upon his modicum of toast, form not too large a portion for one good appetite; but he may be made to do for two less robust, by splitting him exactly in twain upon the usual plan. This is a bird that brooks no delay in the helping. He should be eaten hissing hot.

Plover.—The plover calls for no special directions. Larger than the snipe, but smaller than the woodcock, he may be treated according to the appetites—halved, trebled, or presented upon one plate whole, with the toast as a matter of course. If for plover or snipe we read “quail,” what has been said above will be all that is necessary. The ortolan also might be included. The hints anent the disposal of the liver, &c., on the toast, under the woodcock, may be taken to apply, more or less, to all similar arrangements. The carver should be careful to eliminate the little sandbag or crop, which sometimes may be found in close proximity to the liver; otherwise, if spread upon the toast, its grit will render the whole entirely uneatable.

Wild fowl.—Like turkey or goose, wild duck (and indeed all wild fowl, including the teal and widgeon) offers to the carver the most tempting of breasts, whence to cut away a succession of delicate slices; but he may not remove these until he has inserted sparingly a sprinkling of cayenne pepper between the scorings he has made with his knife, and given an ample squeeze of lemon over them, to drive the pepper well into the interstices. The breast alone is held to be the choice portion of the bird, though there is pretty picking elsewhere, but further dissection of him, when necessary, for immediate or future purposes, such as hashes, &c., may be carried on upon the oft-referred-to chicken principles.

Landrail.—The landrail, not often met with at table, may be easily carved by treating him like a snipe; he is trussed in the same manner, but of course is trailless.

Hare.—The hare stands pre-eminent amongst game, and is so generally popular, and yields so much capital eating, that it should be looked upon as a very special dish for the carver. The head on the left of the carver and the body lying at right angles to the line of sight, slices are cut out of the back all along its length from left to right. Clean, neat, and regular should they be, each with its nice little edge of brown skin; and when, from both sides of the spine, all the meat has been cut away, both the legs must be disengaged by a sharp incision, much after the manner in which the wing of a chicken is removed. Then the shoulders, by a semicircular cut round the joint, are displaced, the point of the knife feeling for the junction at the socket of the bone. Next, in the same way, let the knife travel to about the centre of the back, the carver feeling with its point for a favourable nick in the vertebræ through which, with some little exercise of strength, he may drive the blade, and so divide the body in two. The stuffing must be served in moderation with each portion; and, as the remnants of a hare are generally turned to good account, it is as well, except under extraordinary circumstances, not to serve any of the bones upon the plates, but to cut as neat-looking slices as may be from shoulders and legs. Plenty of gravy should also be helped from the dish by the carver, in addition to that served separately; otherwise the portions may look unattractively dry when first placed before the guest. All partsof a hare are so full of flavour, that, beyond the fact that the back is usually the most tender, there is little superiority in it. The ears and brain are amongst the extra little tit-bits affected by the connoisseur.

Partridge.—Roast partridge usually coming, as it does, at the close of the feast, a very small portion of bird should be served to each guest; in this case, cut him up precisely as you would a chicken, and all at once, without removing the fork; and, by thus making him go as far as possible, you do as much justice to the excellence of the bird as the vagaries of custom will allow. Of course, the choicest morsels, the wings, the breast, and the merrythought, that is, should go to the more delicate appetites; but that is no reason why legs and back should be comparatively wasted, as they often are, when accompanied on the plate by more fleshy pieces, or be left neglected by the carver on the dish. He who knows anything of the flavour of game will be as well contented with the head and back, or leg of a young partridge in good condition as with any other part of it, if it come at the customary tail end of a dinner, and when a mere taste is all that is expected or desirable. But when the partridge appears as a very important element at a choice repast, then hand him over bodily one bird on a hot-water plate to each guest, and so evade all carving responsibilities; or, short of this, cleave him in twain, fairly from beak to tail, as a pigeon, and let no more than two discuss him; or, once again, at the most, cut him into three, as also directed with the pigeon.

Pheasant.—Treat the pheasant with similar deference; for, if young and in good condition, though one part may be better than another, there is no part open to disdain. According to the size of the bird so may you cut him up, but, as a rule, his breast will yield a sufficient number of slices to make it advisable to deal with him in the manner advocated for a turkey; otherwise he has to be dissected entirely as if he were a chicken, remembering at the same time that, according to the position he occupies in the menu, so should your helping be proportioned. If he represent in any way thepièce de résistance, be fairly bountiful, not giving a slice of the breast alone to one person, but some extra “snack” of picking with it, thus letting the choice, and the less choice, morsels be duly blended. On the other hand, if the pheasant come up to table at the usual conventional time, the slices from the breast will be generally enough to go round, if the carver allows no slice to reach the magnitude of anything beyond a taste. He may know if a cock pheasant (cock pheasants are generally the better) be young or old by a glance at the spurs—the short and blunt indicating youth, sharp and long the reverse; and it is well for the carver to note this at starting, as it will prepare him for the amount of strength he will have to put forth in separating the joints. Bread sauce and gravy, as with the partridge, are served separately; but should there be a toast beneath the bird upon the dish, a piece of the toast must go with each portion, a search for the stuffing be entered on, and some of it dispensed.

Grouse.—Beyond putting a very strong emphasis on the value of the back of the grouse, we need only refer to what has been said of the partridge to know how to deal with him. He is worthy in every way of the same high consideration, either as one, two or three portions; but if cut up into this latter or more quantities, a piece of the back must go with each, if the carver regard justice as a leading element of his craft. The habit now of not sending up the bird’s head is, some think, reprehensible; as, like that of the pheasant and partridge, the skull if split in two offers a delicate morsel in the shape of the brain. A piece of the toast, too, usually to be found beneath the grouse should find its way to everybody’s plate.

Blackcock.—Being of the genus grouse, here will be the place to say what one has to say about the blackcock; and once more a knowledge of the chicken’s anatomy will be the key to the whole position. The tenderness and delicacy of the flesh, however, of game birds make them less favourable subjects for the young carver to experimentalise upon. The thigh of this bird is held by the epicure as the portion which attains the culminating flavour. Therefore, though slices may be cut from the breast to begin within the usual fashion, they may not trench upon this tit-bit, which should be preserved intact for the special friend or friends, since there are two thighs. To decapitate this bird, and to send him to table headless, is to deprive some one of an exquisitebonne bouche. When cut in two, there is very pretty picking about the head; and whilst on the dish it serves at once to mark this distinguished member of the feathered community.

Capercailzie.—The capercailzie, though very seldom met with at the ordinary English dinner table, may not be overlooked here, for, though a very much larger bird than grouse or blackcock, it is yet to be ranked amongst the same species. In fact, it is a woodland grouse, and sometimes attains the size of a goodly turkey; which is as much as to say, from our point of view, that we should treat him accordingly.

Ptarmigan.—Ptarmigan, too, though less uncommon and smaller than the capercailzie, would not need any especial dissection, and has merely to be cut up according to his size; whilst of course the buttered toast on which he is served may, or may not, be partaken of; and it is just as well for the carver to inquire.

In dispensing any rare or unusual bird it is quite essential that the carver should point out to those at table who are unacquainted with its precise character what it is, and recommend this or that particular part to their consideration. Also in the matter of toast, when it may contain the trail of game, the carver should be very careful not to give any of it to those who may happen to dislike it. There are many people who will only eat game when it is quite fresh, and who would shudder at the thought of consuming the trail.

Dinners.—To commence with the manner of eating soup. In olden days it was customary to “drink” it out of a basin. In these days no one “drinks” soup—it is “eaten”; whether it be mock turtle or the clearest Julienne, it is eaten out of a soup plate at dinner, and with a tablespoon. To use a dessertspoon for this purpose is notcomme il faut. There is a reason in this: soup is nothing if not hot; and, as it is the custom to give but a very small help of soup—about half a ladleful to each person—it is eaten quicker and hotter with a large spoon. The reason for small helps of soup is that the various courses to follow do not render it expedient to commence with a plateful of soup. At ball suppers, when soup is served in soup plates, it is also eaten with a tablespoon; but when served in small cups a spoon is not used, and it is actually drunk, although fashion does not sanction the expression “I have drunk some soup.”

For fish, the two dinner forks are now superseded by the little silver fish knife and fork. When oysters are given, however, they precede the soup, and are eaten with an ordinary dinner fork, and not with the fish fork. In eating oysters the shell is steadied on the plate with the fingers of the left hand; the oysters are not cut, but are eaten whole. Large dinners are ordered mainly with a view to please the palates of men with epicurean tastes; it is not expected that ladies should eat of the most highly seasoned and richest dishes, but should rather select the plainest. This particularly applies to young ladies and young married ladies; and there are certain things that young ladies are not supposed to eat of at dinner, although handed to them in their turn—as, for instance, marrow patties, foie gras patties, snipe with trail, woodcock with trail, caviare, bloater cheese. Small helps of fish are always given.

Some entrées are eaten with a knife and fork, others with a fork only. All entrées that offer any resistance to a fork being passed through them require the aid of both knife and fork, such as cutlets, filet de bœuf, sweetbreads, &c.; but when rissoles, patties, quenelles, boneless curry, vol-au-vents, timbales, minces, &c., are eaten, the fork is used and the knife is discarded. In the case of the lighter entrées, the contact of the knife is supposed to militate against their delicate flavour, and with regard to the pastry of patties and vol-au-vents, it would be considered bad style were a knife to be used in addition to the fork.

When game is eaten, it is needless to say that the old licence for holding a bonedelicately between the fingers and thumb has long since expired. The leg of a chicken, pheasant, duck, or wild duck is never given to a guest as a help, save on those occasions when there are more guests present than there are helps from breasts and wings to offer them. Under these circumstances the carver is reduced to the necessity of falling back upon the legs; but in this case only the upper part of the thigh is given, the drumstick being cut off—thus a guest has little difficulty in separating the meat from the bone. The wing of a bird, however, is a very usual help given to a lady. Formerly it was thought a correct thing to sever the wing at the joint, and then to cut the meat from the bone; but this required a certain amount of strength in the wrist and dexterity of action, as, if the bird happened to be not of the youngest, there was a chance that a nervous or clumsy young lady would lodge one half of the wing on the tablecloth; so the fair recipients of a wing in the present day do not run this risk or take this trouble, but simply cut off from the bone the meat that is easily got at, leaving those morsels about which there is the slightest difficulty. An inexperienced carver occasionally gives the gizzard with the wing, and some inexperienced young ladies make an attempt to eat it; the gizzard should not be left in the wing by the carver. In the case of small pigeons, golden plovers, snipe, quails, larks, &c., a whole bird is given to each help, and the proper way to eat these birds is to cut the meat from the breast and wings, and to eat each morsel at the moment of cutting it; the bird should not be turned over and over on the plate, or cut in half, or otherwise dissected. The legs of Bordeaux pigeons are not as a rule eaten, and half a bird only is given, as there is sufficient meat on the wing and breast to satisfy an ordinary second-course appetite; when the legs of smaller birds are eaten, such as snipe or golden plover, the meat is cut off as from breast or wing. Young ladies, as a rule, do not eat these birds, or any second-course delicacy of this description; a help of chicken or pheasant, on the contrary, is usually accepted by them.

On the subject of vegetables there is but little to be said; when large potatoes are served in their skins, a salad plate is offered at the same time, so this difficulty is thus provided for. When asparagus first comes into season, it is often given in the second course instead of in the first, in which case it is eaten as a separate dish; when it is handed with meat or poultry, it is eaten on the same plate containing either; and although served on toast, the toast is not meant to be eaten, and it is merely intended to receive the superfluous moisture from the asparagus. In eating asparagus, elderly gentlemen still hold the stalks in their fingers; the younger generation cut off the points of the asparagus with a knife and fork; but asparagus tongs render helping an easy matter. Seakale is often given in the second course when first in season; the toast on which this is served is also not eaten. When mushrooms are served on toast, this toast is generally eaten. Seakale is eaten with a knife and fork. Artichokes are an awkward and untidy vegetable to eat: they are only given in the second course as a separate vegetable. The outside leaves are removed with the knife and fork, and the inner leaves, which surround the heart or head of the artichoke, are conveyed to the mouth with the fingers, and sucked dry; epicures consider these a “dainty morsel,” but at a dinner party young ladies would not attempt to eat them.

Savouries are not eaten by young ladies when they dine out, and seldom in the home circle. Savouries of the description of macaroni with cheese, cheese fondus, cheese straws, cheese soufflés,choufleur au gratin, olives, &c.—these things are not supposed to suit the palates of young ladies. In eating sweets, a dessertspoon is only used for compotes of fruit or fruit tarts, or those dishes where juice or syrup prevails to the extent of rendering a dessertspoon necessary. But whenever it is possible to use a fork in preference to a spoon, it is always better to do so; and jellies, creams, blancmanges, ice puddings, &c., are always eaten with a fork.

As a matter of course, young ladies do not eat cheese at dinner parties. The usual mode of eating cheese is to cut it in small square pieces, and place it with the knife on a morsel of bread, and then convey the bread to the mouth with the fingers. Whencelery is given with cheese, it is cut into fair-sized mouthfuls, which are put in the mouth with the fingers, and bites are not taken from a stick of celery held between the fingers schoolboy fashion. Salad is always eaten with the joint, off small salad plates, placed on the left side of the dinner plate; it is eaten with the knife and fork.

To turn from dinner to dessert. Ices are eaten with a small gold ice spoon. Fruits that require peeling—such as peaches, apricots, nectarines, &c.—are peeled with a dessert knife and fork, and eaten with a spoon and fork, as are oranges. Pears and apples are peeled and eaten with a knife and fork, as is pine or melon; with the latter a spoon also is required. Strawberries are also eaten with a spoon and fork when cream is given with them, otherwise they are held by their stalks and dipped into powdered sugar. Cherries, gooseberries, grapes, and currants are also eaten with the fingers, and so on down the gamut of fruit. A slice of dessert cake is broken and eaten as bread would be, and is not cut with the knife into small pieces. The finger glasses are used after fruit has been eaten, and the tips of the fingers are then dipped into the water and dried on the serviette with as little parade as possible, always bearing in mind that the serviette is not a chamber towel or the finger glass a washhand basin, and also that, when the serviette is used for wiping the lips, it should be done quickly and deftly, attracting as little notice as possible, as it is not a pretty sight to see a person deliberately occupied in wiping their mouth or their moustache again and again during dinner; a lady must be a very untidy eater who requires to wipe her mouth constantly during dinner.

When liqueurs are handed with the ices, young ladies are not expected to take them, and, as a rule, a young lady would not drink more than half a glass of sherry with soup or fish, one glass of champagne during dinner, or a glass of sherry if champagne is not given, and half a glass of sherry at dessert. A married lady would perhaps drink a glass and a half of champagne at dinner, in addition to a glass of sherry with fish or soup. Some ladies drink less than this, and others perhaps a little more, and if a lady does not intend drinking more wine than remains in her glass, she should make a little motion of dissent when the butler is about to replenish it. Otherwise a good glass of wine is sent away untasted; and in all cases when a lady only intends drinking half a glass of wine, it would be no breach of etiquette for her to say to the butler at the moment of his offering her wine, “Only half a glass, please;” good wine is a costly luxury, and should never be unnecessarily wasted, even by a guest at a dinner party.

Bills of Fare.—The following are selected from a very large number, which have been published from time to time in theQueen.

For 2.—(a) Brunoise. Sole au gratin. Filets de bœuf aux champignons. Pommes de terre sautés. Roast blackcock. Stuffed tomatoes. Tartelettes Piémontaises. (b) Potage à la Cussy. Perches sur le gril. Poule au riz à la Milanaise. Haricots verts en salade. Omelette au jambon. (c) Consommé au riz. Filets de soles à la Béchamel. Côtelettes du mouton panées aux tomates. Haricots verts à la Lyonnaise. Parmesan. Tourte de Reine-claudes. (d) Brunoise. Friture d’éperlans. Hachis de veau aux œufs pochés. Cailles rôties. Salade de laitue et cresson. Gateau de pommes de terre.

For 2 or 3.—(a) Croûte au pot. Boiled salmon, fennel sauce. Roast quails. Watercress salad. Asparagus. Cream cheese. Gooseberry tartlets. (b) Bonne femme soup. Sole au gratin. Boiled mutton cutlets. Carrots à la maître d’hôtel. Rice soufflé. (c) Potage aux pointes d’asperges. Whitebait. Filet de bœuf rôti à la Française. New potatoes au beurre. Lettuce salad. Cheese fondue. (d) Spring soup. Red mullets in papers. Fricandeau with spinach. Asparagus. Macaroni cheese. Iced gooseberry fool. (e) Potage à la jardinière. Saumon grillé à la Tartare. Côtelettes de mouton aux concombres. Roast grouse. Watercress. Salad of French beans. Greengage tartlets. (f) Grouse soup. Fried eels. Stewed steak. Mashed potatoes. Vegetable marrow au gratin. Macaroni cheese. Apple tart. (g) Tomato soup. Grey Mullet. Sauceblanche. Braised loin of mutton. Potatoes à la Lyonnaise. Stuffed vegetable marrow. Cheese fritters. Plum tart. (h) Julienne. Fried fillets of sole, tartare sauce. Hashed venison. French beans au beurre. Macaroni au gratin. Apricot omelet. (i) Consommé aux haricots verts. Filets de maquereaux à l’Italienne. Croquettes de volaille. Côtelettes de mouton à la Nivernaise. Tomates farcies. Gruyère. Tourte aux abricots. (j) Consommé au riz. Truite saumonée grillée à la Tartare. Grenadins de bœuf à l’Espagnole. Salade de homard en aspic. Génoises. Compôte de framboises et groseilles. (k) Potage au vermicelle. Rougets sauce aux câpres. Rissoles de homard. Fricassée de poulet. Haricots verts à la Lyonnaise. Omelette au parmesan. Salade de fruits. (l) Potage au pauvre homme. Côtelettes de mouton, pommes de terre à la maître d’hôtel. Asperges, sauce poivrade. Omelette au jambon. (m) Croûte au pot. Filets de sole à l’Italienne. Braised loin of mutton. Navets glacés. Salade de choufleurs. Cheese straws. Caramel custards. (n) Potage au macaroni. Saumon sauté au beurre. Cuisses de poulets au riz à la Turque. Broccoli sprout salad. Fondue au Parmesan. (o) Potage aux œufs pochés. Croustades de volaille à la suprême. Filets de bœuf grillés aux pommes de terre. Choufleurs au gratin. Chartreuse de pêches. (p) One dozen oysters. Consommé de volaille aux quenelles. Chartreuse de perdrix. Grenadins de bœuf à l’Espagnole. Petits soufflés au Parmesan. Salade d’oranges. (q) Purée of celery. Fried smelts. Lark, steak, and kidney pudding. Mashed potatoes. Spanish onions stuffed. Cheese. Apple fritters. (r) Purée of lentils. Boiled haddock and egg sauce. Hashed mutton. Mashed potatoes. Seakale. Cheese. Ginger pudding. (s) Potage au pauvre homme. Raie au beurre noir. Côtelettes de mouton au naturel. Purée de pommes de terre. Omelette au Parmesan. Tartelettes de pommes. (t) Julienne. Cabillaud à la crème. The legs of a turkey devilled, purée of chestnuts. Cauliflower salad. Mince pies. (u) Potage au macaroni. Sole au gratin. Civet de lièvre aux champignons. Choux de Bruxelles à la maître d’hôtel. Mirlitons aux confitures. (v) Onion soup. Broiled whiting. Stewed steak. Haricot bean salad. Fig pudding. (w) Chestnut soup. Mutton croquettes and cauliflower. Roast teal. Celery à la sauce blanche. Cheese. Sweet omelet. (x) Potage à la purée de laitues. Vol-au-vent of cod. Epigrammes de mouton aux tomates. Chartreuse de perdrix. Œufs au gratin. Biscuit au mocha. (y) Croûte au pot. Côtelettes de mouton en papillote. Stewed steak. Mashed potatoes. Vegetable marrow au gratin. New Forest cream cheese. Pommes au beurre. (z) Purée of endives. Slices of cod, Italian sauce. Quenelles of rabbit, with minced olives. Roast partridges. Tomatoes stuffed with mushrooms. Fondue. Génoise pastry, with whipped cream.

For 3 in August.—Lazagne. Rougets en papillote. Côtelettes de mouton à la Soubise. Grenadins de chevreuil, sauce groseille. Artichauts, sauce blanche. Roast grouse. Croûte d’ananas.

For 3 in September.—Potage à la jardinière. Filets de soles à la cardinal. Cromesquis de perdreaux. Côtelettes de mouton à la Soubise. Haricots verts à la poulette. Grouse. Pouding soufflé purée de prunes.

For 3 or 4.—(a) Potage à la purée d’asperges. Whitebait. Côtelettes d’agneau aux concombres. Cailles rôties, salade de laitue. Macaroni au gratin. Gooseberry tartlets. (b) Potage à la jardinière. Sea bream, sauce piquante. Fricassée de poulets. Filet de bœuf rôti à la Française. New potatoes au beurre. Green artichokes à la sauce blanche. Petits soufflés au Parmesan. Compote d’oranges. (c) Purée de gibier Cabillaud à la crème. Aloyau rôti à l’Anglaise. Choux de Bruxelles au jus. Pommes de terre au naturel. Macaroni au gratin. Beignets de pommes. (d) Potage aux pâtés d’Italie. Filets de soles à la Orly. Fricandeau aux épinards. Wild ducks, bigarrade sauce. Salade pommes de terre. Stewed cheese. Rice soufflé. (e) Palestine soup. Fried whitings. Croquettes of beef, Brussels sprouts. Roast pheasant. Watercresses. Scolloped oysters. Omnibus pudding. (f) Brunoise. Sole à la ravigotte. Filets de bœuf à la jardinière. Plovers (3 or 4). Croustades aux huîtres. Beignets soufflés.(g) Oyster soup. Baked John Dory. Mutton cutlets en papillote. Roast pheasant. Cauliflower au gratin. Génoises au chocolat. (h) Croûte au pot. Rouget grondin au Madère. Côtelettes de mouton, purée de pommes de terre. Bécasses rôties (3 or 4). Chouxfleur en salade. Pommes à la Condé. (i) Macaroni soup. Cod and oyster sauce. Roast goose, apple sauce, potatoes, Brussels sprouts. Cheese. Damson tart. Vanille custards. (j) Potage à la royale. Matelotte de harengs aux champignons. Croustades de volaille. Grenadins de veau à la macédoine. Filet de bœuf rôti à la Française. Salade de cresson. Tomates au gratin. Gruyère. Charlotte de pommes. Omelette au rhum. (k) Potage à la Sévigné. Oyster kromeskies. Côtelettes à la Maintenon. Roast capercailzie. Watercress salad. Peas (preserved) à la Française. Ramequins. Sir Watkin Wynn’s pudding. (l) Consommé aux nouilles. Sea bream au Madère. Veal cutlets à la Milanaise. Braised fowls à la jardinière. Fondue au Parmesan. Bakewell pudding. Salad of oranges. (m) Celery soup. Haddock and egg sauce. Grenadins of beef à l’Espagnole. Cauliflowers à la crème. Potatoes sautées. Larks à la minute. Stewed cheese. Mirlitons au cassis. (n) Brunoise. Maquereaux grillés, à la maître d’hôtel. Fricandeau—New potatoes à la Lyonnaise. Boiled ham—Petits pois à l’Anglaise. Œufs au gratin. Beignets d’oranges. (o) Consommé aux pointes d’asperges. Fried fillet of soles, cold tartare sauce. Ris de veau aux champignons. Rumpsteak au beurre d’anchois. Pommes de terre sautées. Salade de laitue. York cream cheese. Soufflé à la vanille.

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