Whiting.—Fried whiting served in this same form should be very large to be so manipulated; but it is a fairer plan for the consumer than cutting the fish deliberately in half. Thus, both the haddock and the whiting should be helped in portions made up of the largest flakes obtainable, and, if the former be stuffed, naturally some of the stuffing must be placed on each plate.
Meat.—The edge of the knife must be of preternaturally dangerous sharpness, and the fork must not have been used too persistently as an instrument for the extraction of corks. Bright, straight, sharp-pointed prongs, and keen-edged flashing blades, are indispensable for good carving. The round form, slight curve, and rather rough surface common to buckhorn handles, afford a grip and purchase absent from the ordinary straight bevel-edged ones of ivory or bone. Remember that for carving joints the handles of the knife and fork are to be short and the blades and prongs long, and that for game and poultry the very reverse of this is necessary, greater firmness of blade and point in the latter case being requisite.
Beef.—First the sirloin. The fillet or under-cut, being always better when eaten hot than cold, should generally claim first attention. It must be cut transversely into thick slices, like a tongue; as also should be the fat at the thinner end, a portion of which should go with each slice of lean from the thicker. The joint must be turned over, to enable the carver to get at it conveniently; and, according to the number of persons to be helped, he should cut so many slices at once, before setting the bone up in its proper position again. By this means he can, when helping from the main bulk of the joint, give a portion of the fillet to each, without having constantly to turn the joint from one side to the other. Some people prefer that both upper and under side of a sirloin should be cut alike—that is, transversely—and, though generally considered an extravagant way, it is not without its advantages; the chief of these notably being that each slice has an equalisation of brown and juicy meat—there being, so to speak, no outside cut, each help having, in a section, brown and underdone in the same slice. A piece of the fat from the flap or lower end of the joint must, of course, accompany every portion, as in the case of the fillet, and it should be remembered that these two sorts of fat are very different in quality; the under, or fillet, being of a far more juicy, delicate, and tender quality than the upper, especially when hot. The upper, however, accompanied as it is by the crackly edge of skin, is exceedingly toothsome, with a flavour peculiarly its own.
The ordinary plan of carving the sirloin, however, recommends itself to most housewives as the better, from the fact that lean and fat go together necessarily with each slice. It is generally advised that, before slices are cut, the point of the knife should be inserted a short distance between the meat and the bone, both of the chine (or short upright bone) and the rib (or long bone). Then the knife has but to be passed dexterously down the face of the meat, and each slice comes away easily and clean from the edges. Only, of course, those who are helped first, in this instance, get the brown or well-done outside, and those later on the under-done or juicy. Therefore it is always necessary for the carver, as an act of common civility, to ask those whom he is helping whether their preference be for well or under done. Slices of roast beef from the upper side cannot well be cut too thin, when carved in the ordinary fashion, excepting perhaps the first or outside slice, which admits, from its crispness, of having a little more substance. The joint should be kept perfectly straight upon the dish—that is to say, at right angles with the line of sight of the carver—nothing looking worse or more awkward than for the meat to be twisted all awry; and in fact no real facility is afforded by doing so, for, if the carver does but stretch his arms out far enough to bring his right hand and wrist well above the joint, he will find that by holding the knife almost perpendicularly, and cutting downwards, he has, with the support from the fork, all the purchase necessary. On no account, either, may he stand up, set his arms akimbo, or bow his back; all the strength requisite can be exercised from his chair, by inclining the body sufficiently forward. The muscular exertion demanded is seldom greater than most ladies, with practice, can supply, and they should not be deterred by any slight sense of fatigue in the early days of their carving career, as it will prove a gentle exercise well calculated to strengthen their hands and wrists, without in any way disfiguring them.
During all pauses in the carving, the knife and fork should be placed on the knife rests, and never thrust and left under the joint; nor, while the carver adds the gravy to the plate of meat in front of him, with the spoon in his right hand, is it well for him to hold both knife and fork in a bunch, as it were, in his left. To do this gives a slovenly, hasty, eating-house sort of effect to the process, especially if, at the same time, the dish be tilted with the left hand, for the easier filling of the spoon. This is always an inelegant proceeding, calculated to endanger the purity of the tablecloth, by the sluicing of the gravy over the edge of the dish, or, even worse, by the capsizing of the joint itself. A carver cannot be too careful never to make a mess; and if every meat dish has, as it should have, a well, there is no excuse for his doing so. A tiny crust of bread put under one end of the dish to cant it a little, in the absence of a gravy well, is at the most all that can be pardoned in the way of disturbing the equilibrium of the dish. If a portion of the garnish of horse-radish is to go with each helping, it must be dispensed with the points of the fork. The gravy spoon should always be put in a vessel of hot water, and placed at the right hand of the dish, up to the moment of using. So essential, too, are hot plates to a perfect condition of roast meat, that a second plate, for a second helping, is strongly to be advocated; and for the same reason, though a dignified calm should characterise the carver’s behaviour, there should be, on the other hand, no approach to dawdling.
Attention to simple details like these distinguishes the good from the bad carver, and renders the execution of the task rather a graceful act than otherwise. In carving the sirloin and similar ribbed joints, a too pliant blade is not desirable. When, however, we are dealing with a round of beef lying flat before us, or the boiled silver side, or a piece of roast so-called boned beef, the knife cannot well be too yielding, nor, again, the slices cut too thin. Never either omit with this sort of joint, where one has to cut directly towards the fork, to raise its finger guard, for, if the knife slip, it will run straight up over the bow of the prongs, to the imminent peril of the carver’s hand. For, of course, in manipulating a piece of meat with the surface to be cut lying uppermost, the left or fork hand is higher than the right or knife hand—nearly the reverse of the position necessary in carving a joint standing upright. In this case the knife is held nearly perpendicularly, the fork nearly horizontally—just, indeed, the contrary to the manner of using the tools for a flat joint.
With the aitch-bone, as with the round of beef, it may be desirable to cut rather a thick slice from the outside before beginning to help; but the habit is wasteful, and should be adopted with judgment. These are not difficult joints to carve, if it be always remembered that a knife with a thin pliant blade is absolutely necessary. Of course a delicate morsel of the fat must go with each serving. The brisket of beef is not a joint very usually to be met with; but it has its merits, and has only to be cut neatly across the bones, to prevent its having a jagged, untidy look on its reappearance at table. What has been said concerning the carving of the sirloin of beef applies in all respects to the carving of the ribs, except that, these having no under-cut, the task is rendered less diversified. The beef tongue must likewise be carved precisely upon the same principles as the sirloin, when that joint is cut transversely, like its fillet; the fat at the root of the tongue, of course, not being overlooked.
Mutton.—All details about knife, fork, spoon, dish, position of joint, and of the body, arms, and hands of the carver—referred to when speaking of beef—are equally necessary with regard to haunch and saddle of mutton. The first thing to be done in carving the former being to make at the knuckle end a deep cut across, down to the bone, with the point of the knife, this forms a basis for a well, into which the gravy will run from every succeeding cut, which ought to pass at right angles to the first incision—that is, all along, in continuous and thick (but not too thick) slices—the whole length of the joint. The moment room at the knuckle end, where the first cut was made, is obtained for the insertion of the spoon, a modicum of the gravy which has accumulated in the hollow should be distributed with each helping, as, of course, it is the richest, being absolutely pure essence of meat. Care too must be taken never to forget putting a little extra fat upon each plate, as the haunch of mutton fat is highly prized; and whoever is most expeditious in assisting the guests may be counted the best carver of mutton, for that it should be piping hot is indispensable.
Saddle should be cut very much upon the same principles as the haunch, and presents no great obstacles to the carver. If a preference be given to carving the slices obliquely instead of straight, the thin end of the saddle should then be on the right of the carver. Each side of the chine or backbone is to be dealt with alike, the first slice always taken from as close to the bone as possible. As the fat lying in the region of the kidneys is held in great estimation, a portion of it should go with every helping; and therefore it is advisable for the carver directly the cover is taken off the joint to tilt the saddle a little on one side, and cut away at once from underneath it as much of this same fat as will be required to go the whole round of the table. He should then slip it all into the gravy well, and thus it will be quite ready for him to help from, otherwise, if this be not done at starting, and attempts are made to get at it after he has begun to cut into the joint, he will in all probability spill the rich gravy settling in the channel made by his first incisions—an unpardonable wasting of good stuff—or he will overlook the kidney fat altogether, to the disappointment of everybody concerned; and the fat is not nearly so good cold as hot.
The popular leg of mutton owes perhaps a great deal of its popularity to the ease with which it may be cut up. Little has to be done, save to pass the knife straight down at right angles with the bone, and not obliquely, as one would carve a ham. Then, according to the preference of the guests, tolerably thick slices from either the knuckle or the upper end may be distributed, the knuckle end being always the better done, though not always perhaps the choicest in flavour. Many little fancies and predilections for certain tit-bits will be met with: 2 quaint pieces of brownish, crisply-roasted fat, like ears or little wings, protruding from the upper end of the joint, being, with the Pope’s-eye, notable instances. Some are fond of having this joint dished with the under side uppermost, so as to get at the finely grained meat lying under the Pope’s-eye; but this is an extravagant fashion, and one that will hardly find favour in the eyes of economical housewives.