Condiments, Spices and Flavors

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
The cover was prepared by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
Condiments, if properly used, assure digestion and hasten the absorption of food by the system.—THEODORE CHILD.
Copyright, 1894, by MARY E. GREEN, M. D.
In this pamphlet no attempt has been made to give specific directions as to the uses of spices and condiments. It must be borne in mind that their usage results neither from the demands of fashion nor of a vitiated sense of taste, but from their own germicidal and preservative qualities. From the spiced and perfumed mummies of the Pharaohs to the spiced apple and pickled pear of our own store-rooms, the same reason for the use of spices exists—their antiseptic qualities. A short account of the divers kinds and qualities of these excellent substances may lead, it is hoped, to a more intelligent use of them in cookery. Nothing has been said about adulteration, for, while most of the adulterants of spices are harmless, still, fraud lies in the fact that the buyer pays a high price for an article part of which is worthless. As every housewife cannot be her own chemist, her safeguard lies in buying only of reliable spice houses.
Maxim as ancient as the time of Democritus of Abdera reads: “Whatever pleases the palate nourishes.” Modern science has proven the truth of this maxim and has given us acceptable reason why condiments are no more necessary in palace of connoisseur than in hut of barbarian, why they are as eagerly used by the native of Labrador as by the swarthy son of the tropics; why they are the property of Mohammedan, Confucian, Buddhist, Gentile and Jew, of all castes, races and civilizations. Acting principally upon the nervous system through the sense of smell, condiments stimulate the flow of both the saliva and gastric juices. They materially aid digestion, and the familiar phrase, “to make the mouth water,” states a physiological fact. From this standpoint the fragrant aroma of steaming coffee and the savory odor of a stew are as truly condiments as pepper and salt; for condiments are the magic wand which transforms most commonplace of foods into essences, subtle and delicious. They are equally appropriate to the steaming potage of the French peasant and the sacrificial altars of Palestine and Greece. Nothing more closely tests the skill of the cook than his use of these appetizing flavors. Like genii of the fairy tale, they are willing, versatile and obedient as slaves; when master their pathway is strewn with sorrowful though most aromatic wrecks of soups and hors d’œuvres . They should permeate food as incense does the atmosphere, delicate, impalpable and as indescribable as they are requisite. The too abundant use of a certain condiment or spice, the lack of another or the injudicious mingling of certain others will ruin the finest pudding, sauce or soup ever compounded.