HELPS OVER HARD PLACES—HINTS TO THE HOSTESS—DON'TS FOR THE TABLE—THE EMERGENCY MISTRESS—PASSING THE LOVING CUP.
One's dinner should be distinguished by that elusive element of informality, which tactfully introduced, is the making of a dinner, in quite the same proportion that its ineffectual simulation is the marring of the feast.
The housewife has many emergencies to face. How to work out of difficulties never met with before taxes all of her ingenuity. She must not allow her perplexity to appear if she is dealing with children or servants, as that would cause them to lose faith in her infallible wisdom.
Does company come in without warning and the sense of hospitality constrain one to invite them to lunch or dinner, the careful Martha is ready for the emergency, and if too late to send to market and what is prepared must be supplemented with something else, she has plenty of canned goods in her storeroom and improvises some dainty dish without a suggestion of flurry. If not so thoughtful she graciously serves her guest with what she has, and never by word or look implies that the call is inopportune.
The true "emergency mistress" is the quiet woman whose friends characterize her as having "plenty of common sense." She stores her mind with useful knowledge and her pantry shelves with abundance of supplies; her work basket always has thread of all colors and needles of every size therein. She has patches to match every garment worn by her children.
The American eatertainer is prone to excess in the quantity which he offers to his guests. He does this out of a mistaken idea of hospitality, not from any fear of being called mean if he should give only a small repast.
As a rule a dinner should consist of not more than five or six chief courses, i. e., soup, fish, entree, roast and vegetable, each one served separately, followed by an entremet of some sort, and fruit.
The art of dinner-giving consists in properly combining such dishes as are appropriate to follow each other on the same evening. I have seen a menu composed of turtle soup, salmon, venison and woodcocks, all excellent things in their way, but when brought together only leaving a sense of excessive oiliness and richness.
As an entree the roti should consist of game, and vice-versa. The salad served with poultry and game should be green salad with a simple dressing of oil and vinegar. No set rules can be laid down.
It is true the caterer is an important element in the modern art of dinner-giving—he "saves all the trouble;" but he is a stereotyped quantity. You know just what he will serve, just how he will serve it, and how enthusiastically grateful you would be if he would occasionally leave out croquettes, for instance, and surprise you with a less hackneyed delicacy.