‘Weal pie, sez I.’
‘Good,’ sez he, ‘I’ll take one tu;’ so he sets down and eats one of his own weal pies right afore me.’
‘Did that cause your confidence in him?’
‘Yes, it did, sir; when an eatin’-house-keeper sets down afore his customers an’ deliberately eats one of his own weal pies, no man can refuse to feel confidence—it shows him to be an honest man.’
On the jamb of the door of an eating-house on the North Wall, Dublin, the curious might recently read the following announcement printed, conveying alarming intelligence to the gallant tars who frequent that port—‘Sailors’ vitals cooked here.’
Probably none of the foreign epicures, whose numerous dainties I have been placing before you, would eat hare and currant jelly, goose and apple-sauce, fish pies or parsley pasty like the Cornishman, or the squab pie of the Devonshire fisherman.
Now, while we are prone to ridicule others for their choice of food delicacies, we should look at home. Our epicures are extremely fond of woodcocks cooked un-gutted, and the standard dishes of Scotland, the haggis, sheep’s-head, tripe, and black puddings, are not palatable to every one.
We have seen, however, from our deliberate survey that whatever enriches the earth and proclaims the bounty of the Creator, illustrates His indulgent regard for Man as chief of the Animal orders. Rich provision has been made for his wants and for his tastes, making glad the fields, the meadows, the vineyards, the orchards, the waters, and the air, peopled as they are with things made to be quartered, and cooked, and eaten. Every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused if it be received with thanksgiving—‘Let no man judge you in meat or in drink.’ The Creator granted to the use of Man animal food as well as every green herb. Whatsoever is sold in the shambles and is set before you eat, therefore, asking no questions for conscience sake.
In the course of our investigation, we have seen how difficult it is to determine what is food and what really are food delicacies; for thereupon the proverb rises before us—‘What’s one man’s meat, is another man’s poison.’
Some people eat arsenic in considerable quantities, and if not exactly food, they find it conducive to an enjoying state of existence. Certain tribes of Africans and South American Indians eat an unctuous kind of earth, which, if introduced into our workhouses as food, would raise an outcry far and wide. In some countries sea-weed is food, in others it is manure for land. While we ruthlessly destroy snails and frogs, our continental brethren fatten and feed upon them.