Salad plants, in particular, are not appreciated as they should be. Read this wail, for an illustration, from a Covent Garden market report in the London "Telegraph": "Nothing short of a prolonged heat wave induces people to eat liberally of this health-giving vegetable. It was pitiful, yesterday, to see stacks of first-rate lettuce utterly neglected. The very best samples, carefully selected and packed in boxes, realized no more than 6d. per score—a score, by the way, being twenty-two heads. Any amount remained unsold."
Tomatoes are getting to be almost as popular as in America. In England, as elsewhere, there are those who maintain that "no salad is perfect without the inclusion of a little tomato"; and of course the delicious "love-apples," as they used to be called, are eaten in many other ways, raw or cooked, grilled tomatoes being an English specialty.
That England is a great fruit country no American can admit, however much he may enjoy the luscious hot-house and wall-grown peaches, nectarines, melons, pears, and grapes. Fruit needs, above all things, sunshine, and of sunshine we have a great deal more at home, especially in California. At Covent Garden and in the fruit shops of the metropolis there are indeed some tempting displays, but the prices are apt to stagger the visitor from across the Atlantic, who seldom pays more than a nickel for a peach or two—say two shillings a dozen at most—whereas in England peaches grown in orchards sell at retail for six to ten shillings a dozen, while those grown in hot-houses bring from fifteen shillings ($3.65) to a guinea ($5.11) per dozen. If you told the average Londoner that in New York one can often buy five or six good cantaloupes for a shilling, he would not believe you without an affidavit signed by the Consul General.
It may be said that owing to their cooler climate the inhabitants of the British Isles do not need fruit as much as we do, and that is true. Yet in all climates, seasons, and conditions of the weather fruit is healthful, and its Flavor is a great appetizer and aid to digestion. It is therefore encouraging to notice that strenuous efforts are being made not only to remove the old reproach that English grapes and other hot-house products have more beauty than Flavor, but also to raise and import orchard fruits in such abundance as to bring them within the reach of the purchaser of moderate means.
The growth of the banana trade strikingly illustrates this point. In the first years of this century this sweet and nutritious fruit was seldom seen in English markets. To-day there is a whole fleet of steamers occupied exclusively in bringing bananas from the West Indies and elsewhere to British ports. The change was greatly accelerated by the shrewdness of the importers, who freely advertised the merits of their goods in the newspapers, citing sample recipes for cooking them from a little book which is offered free.
This method of educating the public to try new foods and dainties doubtless has a great future. The Germans have a saying: Was der Esel nicht kennt das frisst er nicht, which politely translated means "the public must be taught to eat things it does not know."
A decade ago one seldom saw any grapefruit in England. It was Mrs. John Lane who taught Londoners the art of enjoying this most wholesome and palatable fruit—the queen of the citrus tribe. Its juice is the most marvelous combination of sour, bitter, and sweet in existence, and its charm grows on you from day to day. Mrs. Lane induced her greengrocer to keep some in stock, but ere long he confided to her that they were "bloomin' sour" and mostly a dead loss, for customers never bought them more than once. "They're forever asking me how to eat 'em," he said, "and how should I know!"—here he wiped his hands hesitatingly on his apron—"but if I could tell 'em how, why the trade would be grateful; anyhow, I'd be."
So Mrs. Lane wrote a little pamphlet in which she explained the secret of serving grapefruit sweetened in such ways that all may enjoy it. It is entitled "The Forbidden-Fruit or Shaddock; or Grapefruit, How to Serve and How to Eat It." (John Lane, Vigo Street, London.)
Doubtless this pamphlet had much to do with increasing the number of grapefruit eaters in Britain, now said to be very large. It is well to know that there are many varieties, and that some are far inferior to others; so if you eat one and it does not please you, don't be rash and say you do not like grapefruit. Try the other kinds. The best are neither too sour nor too bitter, and they have a "wild" fragrance as exquisite in its way as the marine tang of live oysters. When you get one of these you need none of the sugar, or the liqueur, or maraschino cherries nearly always served with grapefruit. Just peel off the yellow skin, cut the fruit lengthwise, separate the sections with your fingers, remove the membranes, and you have a pile of pulp resembling so many crab tails, which dissolve in the mouth and flood the palate with ambrosial Flavor.