[SPECIMEN ECONOMIC DINNER]
IN A
SUMPTUOUS MODERN AMERICAN HOTEL
The author was invited to dine with some friends one evening in summer at a hotel in New York, and the invitation concluded with "Menu à la Fletcher."
The dinner was to be served in the sitting-room of my host, and when I arrived had not yet been ordered. "You must order the dinner for us," said my host, "and we will agree to your selection." "But I cannot order for any one but myself," said I in reply. "The chief contention I make for natural nutrition is that the appetite is the only true indication of the bodily need, and you must interpret your own appetite both as to estimated quantity required and the sort of food craved."
After some discussion I agreed to stand as go-between and take the symptoms of appetite from each and give the order. The waiter was standing by with pencil in hand and urged a number of expensive dishes that were the specialties of the day. I asked him to "be quiet, please, and let us make our own selection." I first placed the bill of fare in the hands of the daughter of my host and asked her to name the first thing that came into her mind in connection with the order. She replied, "Baked potatoes and—" "Stop," said I; "baked potatoes it is; now it is your turn to choose, R——. What comes first to your mind?" "Green corn," was the answer. "Very well, waiter; one order of baked potatoes, one order of green corn, and a lemon ice. Bring these and we will order more if we require."
The waiter hesitated and was about to protest something when I stopped him with the assurance that the order given was all that we would specify at first, and that if the service was unusual and caused trouble we would submit to an extra service charge to square accounts.
While the order was being filled there was considerable funmaking, but I would give no explanations. The waiter returned shortly with the order as given, and it was laid out to the accompaniment of a complete dinner utensil service. I asked the young lady to please prepare one of the potatoes in the way she liked best, and this was done by taking the mealy heart out of the jacket and mixing it with butter, salt, and pepper to taste. In the meantime the father had taken an ear of corn and was prepared to enjoy it in response to his appetite the same as he would if he were in the woods with a lumberman's appetite and only corn to be had. The large glass of lemon ice was then placed between us as a "centrepiece." "Aren't you going to take your ice now?" queried the young lady. "Not now," replied I. "I must attend to your method of taking your potato to see that you do it economic justice, and I must see that your father does not waste any of that delicious corn. Now, Mary, let me see how much good you can munch out of your first mouthful. Do not swallow any of it until it is actually sucked up by the Swallowing Impulse, and when that happens you will note that only a portion of it is taken and the rest will naturally return to the front of the mouth, if you do not restrain it, and will still be a delicious liquid most agreeable to taste." This happened as suggested, and there were three distinct swallowing acts before the last of the mouthful had disappeared in response to the Swallowing Impulse. "My! but I never realised that potato was so good," exclaimed the young lady; and "Gracious! isn't this corn bully!" echoed the father. "Good!" added I. "If that is true of the first mouthful, I think you will find it true of the other mouthfuls until your appetite for potato and corn is satisfied; and as long as your appetites hold good for them, you are being nourished as your body-needs require." With the slow eating, the appetite of each for the chosen food was soon quieted; one, we will say for illustration of the principle, with a single potato and the other with a single ear of corn. "I think I should relish a little of your second potato if you are not going to take it," said the father, addressing his daughter; and she replied, "Your corn seems nice, father; may I have your second ear in exchange for my potato?" This was agreeable to each, and each partook somewhat of the other's original selection until the appetite of each was so completely satisfied that neither could more than taste a little of my lemon ice as a final delicacy; and as I did not want all of it, the one order sufficed for us. I had breakfasted quite heartily at one o'clock in the afternoon, after having written several thousand words of correspondence, and really wanted but half the generous portion of ice that had been brought. I had ordered it set into ice-water, after placing it ceremonially as a centrepiece, and it had kept its icy consistency waiting for what I thought was likely to happen.