Many compliments to you, my dear Mrs. L.
At your request I here inclose the list you require, and which will show you how circumscribed the middle classes are in respect to the variation of their meals, in the way of meat and manner of cooking it. I do not disapprove of your idea in wishing me here to give a series or list of those provisions; but, on the other hand, I must tell you frankly my opinion, it being a subject which for some years I have made a study, indeed quite a hobby. If I am wrong, let any one who knows better correct me; you will allow I am always open to conviction and improvement, no matter how trifling, which often leads to an important one.
I shall therefore name all joints of meat which, though numerous, offer but little variation when continually dressed the same way, and observe that everybody has the bad habit of running only upon a few which are considered the best. They are as follow:
Those in beef are the sirloin, ribs, round, silver-side, aitch-bone.
In mutton—leg, saddle, haunch, loin.
Lamb—fore-quarter and leg.
Veal—fillet, loin.
Pork—leg, sparerib, loin.
Every one of these joints are of the most expensive parts, because generally used, although many of the other parts are equally as good, as I shall prove to you, in the receipts which I shall write for the dinner, what can be done in the way of made dishes out of those parts which are rarely or never used in this country by the middle classes, which will more clearly develope to you my ideas on the subject Besides, there is this advantage, that if a small tradesman were to follow these receipts, and buy every other time he goes to the butcher what he now considers a second-class joint, he would not only be conferring a public benefit, but also one on himself, and be the means of diminishing the price of those now considered the first class, which at the present moment bear too high a price in proportion, but which his pride causes him to purchase.
To prove to you that my argument is correct, look carefully over the inclosed list, which contains all the joints that are cut from beef, veal, mutton, lamb, pork, and you will find that ten of the prime are in daily use to one of the other, and principally for a want of the knowledge of cookery; leaving the science of cooking our food to a fierce or slow fire, or plunging our expensive provisions into an ocean of boiling water, which is thrown away, after having absorbed a great portion of the succulence of the meat. Try the receipt for the Pot-au-feu; taste the broth and eat the meat, and tell me which plan you consider the best. Do not think that I object to our plain joint, because, now and then, I am rather partial to them; but why not manage to make use of the broth, by diminishing the quantity of water, and simmering them, instead of galloping them at a special railway-train speed? Were the middle classes only but slightly acquainted with the domestic cookery of France, they would certainly live better and less expensively than at present, very often, four or five different little made dishes may be made from the remains of a large Sunday’s joint, instead of its appearing on the table of a wealthy tradesman for several days cold, and often unsightly, and backed by a bottle of variegated-colored pickles, made with pyroligneous acid, which sets my teeth on edge merely in thinking of it, and balanced by a steaming dish of potatoes, which, seen through the parlor window by the customers in the shop, would make them think there was a grand gastronomic festivity taking place at Mr. A.’s or B.’s, the butterman or greengrocer; this may be excusable once or twice, on a hot summer’s day, with an inviting salad, seasoned with merely salt, pepper, oil, and vinegar, but the continual repetition of that way of living in winter is, I consider, a domestic crime.