“The appearance of this ‘Crème d’Egypte à l’Ibrahim Pacha’ immediately caught his Royal Highness’s attention, who at once perceived the honour conferred upon him. He carefully took off the portrait en carton in his hands to admire it; and after showing it to several of his suite, he affectionately placed it in his bosom near his heart, with the intention of never parting with it again. But what was his astonishment, on looking at the spot where the former portrait had been deposited, at seeing in the cream, as under a glass, the portrait of himself, as highly finished, and as striking a likeness as any miniature painter could have produced, and surrounded by a gilt-like frame! Monsieur Soyer, having been sent for by the party, was highly complimented by his Highness through his interpreter, who desired to know where and how he could procure such a likeness of his father, and how was his own so correctly drawn in the cream? ‘Please tell his Highness,’ said Monsieur Soyer to the interpreter, ‘that both were executed from the original sketches drawn by our celebrated artist Horace Vernet, whilst in Alexandria. The portrait in the cream is drawn on wafer-paper, which, placed on the damp jelly, representing the glass, dissolves, and nothing remains but the appearance of the portrait drawn in light water-colours. The imitation of the gilt frame is made with eau de vie of Dantzic, and gold water mixed with jelly, the gold leaf of which forms the frame. After having been thanked by the Pacha, the pyramidal cream of Egypt was ordered to be shown to each guest, by sliding it from one to the other round the table (which was more than 250 feet), to the great satisfaction and admiration of every one present. Though everything was eatable in it, this magnificent dish was respected, and remained untouched, but every one tried to partake of the fruit which surrounded this extraordinary and appropriate culinary wonder.”
The above is given chiefly for the benefit of our Paris contemporaries, who do us the honour to mention that “le Globe nous fait connaître les étranges discours qu’ils ont, l’un et l’autre (Lord Palmerston and Sir C. Napier), recités à cette occasion.” Waiving the question whether there was anything “strange” in either speech we beg our Paris contemporaries to observe that their compatriot, Monsieur Soyer had effected a most skilful diversion from all delicate topics whatsoever.
“Segnitus irritant animos demisan per aures
Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus.”
Ibrahim Pacha’s interpreter, it now appears, had other things to do than to interpret either political retrospects or prospects, as touched by the several speakers. And surely it might soften the hearts of our jealous friends about the Palais Royal, to see how large a part of the triumph of the day was, in fact, a French triumph. Would we could stop here! But truth compels us to say that our ally, Monsieur Soyer, forces us, in the sequel, to feel strange doubts of his thorough devotion to English interests.
“The next dish which much amused his Highness was the one entitled the Gateau Britannique à l’Amiral, being the representation of an old man-of-war, bearing the English and Egyptian flag drawn on rice-paper, the ship being filled with ice mousseuse aux pêches, and loaded with large strawberries, cherries, grapes, and bunches of currants, being so placed on the table that the brave and gallant Commodore Napier had to help from this cargo the illustrious stranger, who did not cease smiling. During that process the moisture and liquor of the ice, which gradually melted, saturated the hull of the vessel, which was made of a kind of delicate sponge cake. Whilst the gallant commodore was in the act of helping the remains of the ice, the ship gave way, and formed a complete wreck, which caused great hilarity among the company who were close enough to witness the scene.”
The above might form a most fertile text for sinister inferences, if we possessed the talent in that line of some of our Paris contemporaries. We content ourselves with expressing our satisfaction that Monsieur Soyer never has been, and we hope never will be, intrusted with the charge of Surveyor of the Navy, in addition to that of Chef de Cuisine at the Reform Club. We have no objection to his building gateaux Britanniques, which “give way” in the heat of action; but we desire to see no brioche of his contriving in the Mediterranean.
THE SUN.
Who has not heard of the cuisine of the Reform Club? Who has not heard of its chef, Alexis Soyer, and his soufflet monstre à la Clontarf, and his créme de l’Egypte à l’Ibrahim Pacha? Well, here we have the mighty gastronomic magician coming forward, in proprié persona, and informing us of the methods be employs to produce those results which astonish and delight the world. If we mistake not, this book of M. Soyer’s is destined to produce a revolution in the kitchens of England, and to substitute for the fat, greasy, unscientific school of cookery the science of gastronomy, a science which teaches the art of extracting from food, animal and vegetable, the nutritions portions in such a manner as to please the eye and the taste, while at the same time the material is economised to the utmost. The following passage shows that M. Soyer has had considerable experience on the subject of which he treats:
“During the last ten months, I had to furnish 25,000 dinners for the gentlemen of the Reform Club, and 38 dinner parties of importance, comprising above 70,000 dishes, and to provide daily for 60 servants of the establishment, independent of about 15,000 visitors who have seen the kitchen department in that lapse of time.”
The result of that experience we have in this volume. He gives us bills of fare for parties of all sizes, from a coronation banquet to a bachelor’s snug party in chambers. He also gives us plans of kitchens of all sizes, from the magnificent gastronomical laboratory of the Reform Club to my “Kitchen at Home,” which is suited to the means and requirements of the solitary bachelor. Let all those who are tired of the eternal roast and boiled, alternating with chop and steak—who think that mutton broth is not the only potage in the world—that there are methods of dressing fish other than plain boiling and frying, and other sauces than melted butter—purchase M. Soyer’s book. They will find that it is indeed that which it professes itself to be—a Gastronomic Regenerator.