In the 14th century, the refectories and kitchens of the numerous communities of Paris presented a curious scene. Immense coppers contained the pottage and boiled meat, and monster gridirons, on four wheels, covered vast braziers. All the utensils of these kitchens were of remarkable dimensions.
DESCRIPTION OF [PLATE No. XVI.]
No. 1. Roman silver knife handle.
No. 2. Roman silver spoons.
No. 3. A very deep dish of metal, either for sauces or some kind of liquid.
XXIII.
SEASONINGS.
The animal and vegetable kingdoms furnish us with an abundant and wholesome food, whose flavour gastronomic caprice unceasingly modifies by the aid of various substances which we denominate seasonings. It is, above all, the perfect knowledge of these ingredients, the manner of employing them, and their skilful mixture, which constitute the art of the cook. Labour and custom, and a kind of routine which the palate acquires easily, will suffice for those who content themselves with this calling, and who, carefully preserving the timid traditions of the past, view progress as ruin and devastation, and the fruitful boldness of inspiration as ridiculous and fatal innovations.
Heresy, and even schism (pardon these expressions), should be allowed in cookery, as soon as they receive the sanction of the doctors ès-banquets—the sole judges competent in such matters. It is to the art professed by Apicius that the celebrated line of Voltaire appears more peculiarly to apply:—
“Tous les genres sont bons, excepté l’ennuyeux.”