22. German Cookery.—I am not going into a disquisition on continental cookery in general, nor on German in particular. Man has been characterized as a “cooking animal,” and if refinement in this noble art and science be a proof of civilization, our Gallic and Saxon neighbours must stand unrivalled. The New Zealander, who roasts his hog, his dog, and his prisoner in the same oven, sinks very low on the gastronomic scale—not on account of his canine or cannibal predilections, but because he cannot so mystify and transform the original materials of his laboratory—the genera and species of his animal and vegetable stock—as to defy Orfila himself to ascertain whether they had been inhabitants of the air, the earth, or the “waters under the earth.” As I think I have made a small discovery that may prove of some importance in the cuisine of my native land, I shall here communicate it, pro bono publico.
In almost all the cities, towns, and even villages of Germany, we find on the bill of fare certain dishes that are great favourites with John Bull—namely, beef-steaks—mutton-chops—veal cutlets—pork-chops—lamb-chops, &c. To be sure the titles are not very easily pronounced; but the kind host is always ready to furnish you with rind-fleisch, schwein-fleisch, lamms-fleisch, kalbfleisch, or hammelfleisch, without doubt or delay. When these come on the table, they are so nicely browned, and crusted over with bread-crumbs, flower, butter and other mysterious compounds, that, except by the external figure, and the protuberant rib, no discrimination between the different dishes could possibly be made. Nor will the taste detect schweins-fleisch from any of the other fleshes. All agree, however, in the tenderness, flavour, and delicacy of the steaks, chops, and cutlets. Then, again, they remark, how well the fat is taken off, leaving nothing but the meat; while the bone comes out as easy and as clean as if it had been boiled and scraped in a separate vessel! These eulogies attracted my attention, and I began to examine the chops and steaks accurately. A very slight dissection demonstrated, beyond a doubt, that all was a composition. A few further intrusions into the cuisines explained the whole matter, without difficulty. The cold meat, of every description, is pounded in a mortar, with pepper, salt, and spices. When wanted, it is pressed into moulds (like butter) according to the shape required—an old rib or bone is thrust into one end of the chop—the whole is well covered with crumbs of bread, flour, or other habiliments—made smoking hot in the oven—and brought to table as most delicious mutton-chops, veal cutlets, pork-chops, beef-steaks—or—anything you please to demand.
Do I blame or criticise this ingenious manufacture? Far from it. The pounded and compounded chops and steaks are better than original ones—are easy of digestion—require little or no mastication—are savoury to the taste, and warm to the stomach—and, what is of some consequence, they are economical, and always ready for dressing at any hour of the day or night. The only part of the compound to which I object, is the bony-part. These bones remain in the kitchen, like heir-looms, serving from generation to generation, as far as I know, and if the cook takes the trouble to wash them daily, with the spoons’ and forks, my objection vanishes at once. The above discovery explained an enigma which often puzzled me when travelling on the Continent—namely, the impossibility of getting cold meat at a hotel—even a few hours after the most splendid table-d’hôte.
I can have no reason—or at all events no right, to question the taste of our continental neighbours in the preparation of their food. To German cookery, German spas, German baths, and German waggons, I owe the loss of fifteen pounds in weight, and that in a late tour of two months. But then the lost flesh was London fed—and I gained in strength far more in proportion than I lost in weight. This may prove a valuable hint to the race of aldermen, and many others besides.
23. Gallic and German Patriotism compared.—The temperature of a Frenchman’s patriotism seldom reaches the boiling, or even the fever point, unless he is, in act or imagination, the aggressor or agitator. It requires the fuel of pride, ambition, glory, revolution, or conquest, present or prospective, to keep up the steam of national enthusiasm among our Gallic neighbours. Not so beyond the Rhine. A German’s patriotism rises in proportion as “Faderland” is borne down by misfortunes, or trode upon by the foot of the haughty foreigner. The flame of devotion to country never burns with greater intensity in a German’s breast, than when it is apparently extinguished by the pressure of the victorious enemy. Both these propositions are proved by history. Every one knows the sacrifices which the people of France made in the late war, while Napoleon was trampling on the liberties of Europe. Yet, when the tide of his glory ebbed, and the energies of Germany and other countries carried forward the contest into the heart of France—the French nation sunk into apathy, stupor, or indifference. So, on a recent occasion, when the thunder of British cannon demolished the ramparts of a Syrian despot—a vice-regal slave-driver—and reverberated from the pyramids to Montmartre, the flame of patriotism glowed in every Frenchman’s breast, from the Mediterranean to the Moselle—and already the Marsellaise hymn depicted the Eagles, as pluming their wings and wafting their flight over the Alps and the Rhine—over the Tyber and the Thames! For, although the word “patriotism” means, in all other languages, the love of natal soil, yet in the French vocabulary, it signifies the love of revolution at home, or of conquest and spoliation beyond the limits of France.[96] The wanton and threatening insult, though only prospective and intentional, which she lately held out to Europe, called forth a “German Marsellaise,” tuned to true patriotic principles, and containing no menace—no allusion to former invasions of France, and capture of her capital. The whole burthen of the song, and conclusion of each verse, breathed only the firm resolution to resist aggression, and preserve their “Faderland” independent.
“No, never shall they have it, our free-born German Rhine,
Till deep beneath its surges, our last man’s bones recline!”
German patriotism, in the long run, will prove superior to Gallic ambition. The love of country is a nobler and safer passion than the love of conquest.[97]
The French tell us that the English are detested on the Continent—but to adduce any reason for this, would be quite unlike a Frenchman—whose assertion needs not the vulgar auxiliary of proof. The only plausible cause which he might urge for this anti-Britannic hatred, is the fact that the English assisted the continental nations to drive the French back over the Rhine, and up to the Boulevards—hence the detestation of Germany, Russia, Spain, &c. against England! This is quite the Gallic style of ratiocination.
24. Prisons.—There would seem to be two, if not more, kinds of liberty—political and personal; or national and individual. They do not always run parallel. When our Gallic neighbours placed the Cap of Liberty on the head of a Courtezan, and worshipped her as a Goddess, the prisons were overflowing, and most of the inmates lost their caps—in which their heads happened to be at the time! No one will contend that Germany is overburthened with political liberty—but I believe that the proportion of out-door to in-door prisoners there, is as great as in this country. To say the truth there are not many temptations to take up free quarters within the walls of a German prison—for although Howard, that great practical reformer of “proved,” that is to say, approved abuses, was there; yet the hard labour, low fare, bastinado for men, and whip for women, afford little encouragement to transgression of the laws. To the honour of Austria be it said, that the functionaries are strictly enjoined to apply the whip and bastinado, with all due regard to the moral feelings of the prisoners, and with the most scrupulous attention to the forms and ceremonies prescribed for those occasions!