If one has nothing for dinner but soup, hash, and lettuce, put them on the table in style: serve them in three courses, and one will imagine it a much better dinner than if carelessly served.
Let it be remembered that the above is the rule prescribed for every-day living. With large dinner parties, the plan might be changed, in one respect, i. e., in having the dishes, in courses, put on the table for exhibition, and then taken off, to be carved quickly and delicately at a side-table by an experienced butler. This gives the host time to entertain his guests at his ease, instead of being absorbed in the fatiguing occupation of carving for twelve or fourteen people.
These rules in France constitute an invariable and daily custom for private dinners, as well as for those of greater pretensions. Every thing is served there also as a separate course, even each vegetable, unless used as a garnish. In America and England this plan is not generally liked, although in both these countries it is adopted by many. Americans like, at least, one vegetable with each substantial, a taste, it is to be hoped, that will not be changed by the dictates of fashion. Then, if dishes are to be carved at a side-table, the one-vegetable plan causes the placing of the principal dish on the table before carving to appear more sensible.
When the butler places a dish on the table, and tarries a moment or so for every one to look at it, if it does not happen to be so very attractive in appearance the performance seems very absurd; but when, after putting on the substantial dish, he places a vegetable dish at the other end of the table, his taking the substantial to carve seems a more rational proceeding.
I would suggest, when there is only one dish for a course, which is to be taken off the table to be carved, that the dish should be put on first; then, that the butler should return for the plates, instead of placing the plates on first, as should be done in all other cases.
At small dinners, I would not have the butler to be carver. It is a graceful and useful accomplishment for a gentleman to know how to carve well. At small dinners, where the dishes can not be large, the attendant labor must be light; and, in this case, does it not seem more hospitable and home-like for the gentleman to carve himself? Does it not disarm restraint, and mark the only difference there is between home and hotel dinners?
In “Gastronomie,” M. M. believes in a compromise on the carving question. He says, “There were professional carvers, and this important art was anciently performed at the sound of music, and with appropriate gesticulations. We wish our modern gourmands would follow the very good example of Trimalchio in this respect, and, if they must have their viands carved on the sideboard by servants, take care that, like his carvers, they are trained to his art. We shall take the opportunity of entering our protest against an innovation which is going too far. That some of the more bulky pieces, the pièces de résistance, should be placed on the sideboard, well and good, though even to this Addison objected, and not without reason; but that the fish and the game should be both bestowed and distributed, like rations to paupers, by attendants, who, for the most part, can not distinguish between the head and the tail of a mullet, the flesh and fin of a turbot, etc., is enough to disturb the digestion of the most tolerant gastronome. We must say that we like to see our dinner, especially the fish, and to see every part of it, in good hands.”
Then, again, without paying a high price, one can not secure a waiter who is a good carver. I am almost inclined to say one must possess the luxury of a French waiter for carving at the side-table. English waiters are good. The Irish are generally too awkward. Negroes are too slow. The French are both graceful and expeditious.
Well, what can be done, then, when one has a dinner party, with no expert carver, and the dishes are too large for the host to attempt? I would advise in this case that the dinner should be served from the side. A very great majority of large and even small dinners are served in this manner.
The table, as usual, is decorated with flowers, fruits, etc., but the dishes (plats) are not placed upon it; consequently the host has no more duty to perform in the serving of the dinner than the guest. A plate is placed on the table before each person, then the dish, prettily decorated or neatly carved, if necessary, is presented to the left side, so that each person may help himself from the dish. When these plates are taken off, they are replaced by clean ones, and the dish of the next course is presented in like manner. Many prefer to serve every course from the side, as I have just indicated; others make an exception of the dessert, which the hostess may consider a pretty acquisition to the table, while the dish should not be an awkward one to serve.