It will thus be perceived how little understood, even at this advanced age, is the term in question, and how few, comparatively, there are who comprehend the true significance of the pleasures of the table—pleasures where grossness does not enter, but where taste, refinement, the amenities, and hygiene assert their sway. Life is short at its longest; but who shall harvest its sweetnesses so fully as the accomplished gastronomer! The rustling forest glades, radiant in the pomp of October, may be summoned by the appearance of a finely larded grouse; the tinkle of liberated brooks be heard with the advent of the first April trout; the flute of the whitethroat be recalled by the floral tributes to the table; and all that is sunshine in nature be distilled when the cork sets free a noble vintage of the Médoc or the Marne.
If the term "gastronomy" was imperfectly understood until the definition in the "Physiology," as much may be said of the word gourmandise, which oftener served as a designation of gluttony than as a synonym of refined epicureanism.
Gourmandise, Savarin defines as "an impassioned, rational, and habitual preference for all objects which flatter the sense of taste. It is opposed to excess in eating and drinking. Physically, it is an indication of the wholesome state of the organs on which nutrition depends, and, morally, it marks implicit resignation to the commands of the Creator, who, in ordering man to eat that he may live, invites him to do so by appetite, encourages him by flavour, and rewards him by pleasure. It is, moreover, most favourable to beauty, imparting more brilliancy to the eye, freshness to the skin, more support to the muscles; and as it is certain in physiology that it is the depression of muscles that causes wrinkles, those formidable enemies of beauty, it is equally true that, all things being equal, those who know how to eat are comparatively ten years younger than those ignorant of that science." It was also left for him to discover that gourmandise, when it is shared, has a marked influence on the happiness which may be found in the conjugal state.
"POUR VOIR DE BONS REFRAINS ÉCLORE, BUVONS ENCORE!"
Frontispiece of "Le Caveau Moderne" (1807)
Let us follow the accomplished chancellor farther in his physiological studies, and refer to the thirteenth Meditation, which treats of "gastronomic tests." In a previous chapter a famous bill of fare of the renowned Rocher de Cancale has been presented, which it may be well to compare with what approaches nearest to a menu or series of menus in the "Physiology." It will then be for the reader to decide whether he would rather have assisted at the feast of the Rocher alluded to, or at that prescribed by Savarin for an income of thirty thousand francs in the early part of the century. In both instances the list of accompanying wines is wanting, and therefore the menus are necessarily incomplete as a dinner chronicle of the times. Happily, the long and heavy dinners of former days have given place to repasts of a far more simple nature, as the heavy wines of Oporto and the South and the highly saccharine products of the vine have been replaced by lighter and more wholesome kinds. It is possible now to dine well and generously and escape a headache or an indigestion the following morning.
By "gastronomic tests," which the author claims as a personal discovery that will honour the nineteenth century, he understands dishes of acknowledged flavour, of an excellence so undoubted that the mere sight of them ought to move, in a well-organised man, every faculty of taste; so that all those whose faces under such circumstances neither flash with desire nor beam with ecstasy may justly be noted as unworthy of the honours of the banquet and its attending pleasures. A test destined for a man of limited means, he explains, would have little reference to a head clerk, and would scarcely be perceived when a select few dine together at a capitalist's or a diplomatist's. Should such dishes as a truffled turkey seem out of keeping for an income of fifteen thousand francs, and the list of the "third series" appear too elaborate for an income of double that sum, due consideration should be taken of the value of the franc at the period to which the author refers. It is also to be presumed that such a bill of fare was not often served by any one person, and was therefore more highly prized and more easily digested.
Gastronomic Tests.
First Series.
For a Presumed Income of 5000 Francs a Year (Mediocrity).
A large fillet of veal, well larded with bacon, done in its own gravy.
A country-fed turkey stuffed with Lyons chestnuts.
Fattened pigeons larded and cooked to a turn.
Eggs dressed à la neige.
A dish of Sauerkraut bristling with sausages and crowned with Strassburg bacon.
Remarks.—"Bless me! that looks all right! Come on! let us do honour to it!"
Second Series.
For a Presumed Income of 15,000 Francs (Comfort).
A fillet of beef underdone in the middle, larded and done in its own gravy.
A haunch of venison, accompanied by a gherkin sauce.
A boiled turbot.
A leg of mutton présalé, done à la provençale.
A truffled turkey.
Early green peas.
Remarks.—"Ah, my dear friend, what a delightful sight! This is truly a wedding-feast."
Third Series.
For a Presumed Income of 30,000 Francs or more (Riches).
A fowl of about seven pounds stuffed with truffles till it becomes almost round.
An enormous Strassburg pâté de foie gras, in the shape of a bastion.
A large Rhein carp à la Chambord, richly dressed and decorated.
Truffled quails, with marrow, spread on buttered toast au basilic.
A river pike larded, stuffed, and smothered in a cream of crayfish secundum artem.
A pheasant done to perfection, with his tail-feathers stuck in, lying on toast à la Sainte-Alliance.
A hundred early asparagus, each half an inch thick, with sauce à l'osmazôme.
Two dozen ortolans à la provençale, as described in some of the cookery-books already mentioned.
A pyramid of vanilla and rose meringues—a test sometimes useless unless in the case of ladies and abbés.
Remarks.—"Ah, my dear sir (or my lord), what a genius that cook of yours is! It is only at your table that one meets such dishes."
In order that any test should produce its full effect, the author advises that it be served plenteously, the rarest of dishes losing its influence when not in abundant proportion, as the first impression it produces on the guests is naturally checked by the fear of being stingily served, or, in certain cases, of being obliged to refuse out of politeness—a conclusion one may see verified frequently at a European table-d'hôte when the parsimonious though perhaps extortionate landlord deals out the roast or the fish through the intermedium of the maligned garçon or Kellner. There are certain dishes, nevertheless, whose zest consists in their very daintiness and lack of exuberance, such as numerous entrées, in the savouring of which even the forks and knives should be small and the proportions of the dish be restricted rather than augmented. But the rules in the "Physiology" as to a perfect dinner still hold good in the main, and will well bear reiteration: