It is not a nice thing to talk or write of, as I have admitted. And this is not because the act of mastication is unseemly. The measured movement of the jaws in the decorous disposition of whatever is committed to them is no more grotesque than the “winking as usual,” enjoined by the photographer. This is emphatically true when food is cut small before it is eaten.
The stomach is long-suffering and kind, but not omnipotent. The salivary glands are her natural and most efficient allies. The “bolter” cuts off supplies from this source. The chunks of solid matter, washed down with scalding liquid or iced water, are more than the other gastric juices can manage. The result is as sure as the addition of two and two, followed by the subtraction of four.
A judicious mother who has made physiology a study for her children’s sake, teaches her little ones to chew the well-cooked cereals that form the staple of their breakfast. Furthermore, she teaches that it is indecent to swallow anything except liquids without chewing it. The rule is not arbitrary. Each child comprehends the office of the saliva, that the motion of chewing excites it, and that to take crude lumps of anything into the stomach is absolutely wrong.
In the chance that other mothers may imitate her example lies the only hope of the American stomach. The adult bolter is joined to his evil practice. He is feeding with egg-coal an engine that was built to be run with pea coal, adding to the mischief done the delicate machinery the outrage of chunking in and packing down the fuel.
SOUPS
It is a progressive age and the average American housewife is slowly coming to some appreciation of the nutritive value of soups as an article of daily food. As a rule of wide application, she does not yet credit how easy it is to prepare them. Some one says that the motto for the would-be soup-maker should be, “strong stock and no grease.” What might be a good soup is unpalatable if globules of grease float on the surface, and it takes a hungry man, without a fastidious taste, to enjoy it under these circumstances. See to it then that all meat-stocks are perfectly skimmed when very cold, that every vestige of fat may be removed.
A good soup stock
Four pounds of beef marrow bones, well cracked; one pound of coarse lean beef chopped as for beef-tea, and the same of lean veal; one large onion, one carrot, one turnip, six refuse stalks of celery, a cabbage leaf; seven quarts of cold water; prepare and salt to taste.
Put the meat and vegetables, the latter cut up small, into a large pot, cover with the water and set at the side of the range where it will not reach the scalding point under an hour. Keep closely covered and let it simmer, always scalding hot, never boiling hard, for six hours. Remove from the fire, season and set in a cool place until next day. Remove the fat, strain out bones and vegetables, pressing hard to extract all the nourishment and set away in the refrigerator until needed.
At least one dozen varieties of soups and broths can be founded upon this stock.