Partridge.—Roast partridge usually coming, as it does, at the close of the feast, a very small portion of bird should be served to each guest; in this case, cut him up precisely as you would a chicken, and all at once, without removing the fork; and, by thus making him go as far as possible, you do as much justice to the excellence of the bird as the vagaries of custom will allow. Of course, the choicest morsels, the wings, the breast, and the merrythought, that is, should go to the more delicate appetites; but that is no reason why legs and back should be comparatively wasted, as they often are, when accompanied on the plate by more fleshy pieces, or be left neglected by the carver on the dish. He who knows anything of the flavour of game will be as well contented with the head and back, or leg of a young partridge in good condition as with any other part of it, if it come at the customary tail end of a dinner, and when a mere taste is all that is expected or desirable. But when the partridge appears as a very important element at a choice repast, then hand him over bodily one bird on a hot-water plate to each guest, and so evade all carving responsibilities; or, short of this, cleave him in twain, fairly from beak to tail, as a pigeon, and let no more than two discuss him; or, once again, at the most, cut him into three, as also directed with the pigeon.
Pheasant.—Treat the pheasant with similar deference; for, if young and in good condition, though one part may be better than another, there is no part open to disdain. According to the size of the bird so may you cut him up, but, as a rule, his breast will yield a sufficient number of slices to make it advisable to deal with him in the manner advocated for a turkey; otherwise he has to be dissected entirely as if he were a chicken, remembering at the same time that, according to the position he occupies in the menu, so should your helping be proportioned. If he represent in any way the pièce de résistance, be fairly bountiful, not giving a slice of the breast alone to one person, but some extra “snack” of picking with it, thus letting the choice, and the less choice, morsels be duly blended. On the other hand, if the pheasant come up to table at the usual conventional time, the slices from the breast will be generally enough to go round, if the carver allows no slice to reach the magnitude of anything beyond a taste. He may know if a cock pheasant (cock pheasants are generally the better) be young or old by a glance at the spurs—the short and blunt indicating youth, sharp and long the reverse; and it is well for the carver to note this at starting, as it will prepare him for the amount of strength he will have to put forth in separating the joints. Bread sauce and gravy, as with the partridge, are served separately; but should there be a toast beneath the bird upon the dish, a piece of the toast must go with each portion, a search for the stuffing be entered on, and some of it dispensed.
Grouse.—Beyond putting a very strong emphasis on the value of the back of the grouse, we need only refer to what has been said of the partridge to know how to deal with him. He is worthy in every way of the same high consideration, either as one, two or three portions; but if cut up into this latter or more quantities, a piece of the back must go with each, if the carver regard justice as a leading element of his craft. The habit now of not sending up the bird’s head is, some think, reprehensible; as, like that of the pheasant and partridge, the skull if split in two offers a delicate morsel in the shape of the brain. A piece of the toast, too, usually to be found beneath the grouse should find its way to everybody’s plate.
Blackcock.—Being of the genus grouse, here will be the place to say what one has to say about the blackcock; and once more a knowledge of the chicken’s anatomy will be the key to the whole position. The tenderness and delicacy of the flesh, however, of game birds make them less favourable subjects for the young carver to experimentalise upon. The thigh of this bird is held by the epicure as the portion which attains the culminating flavour. Therefore, though slices may be cut from the breast to begin with in the usual fashion, they may not trench upon this tit-bit, which should be preserved intact for the special friend or friends, since there are two thighs. To decapitate this bird, and to send him to table headless, is to deprive some one of an exquisite bonne bouche. When cut in two, there is very pretty picking about the head; and whilst on the dish it serves at once to mark this distinguished member of the feathered community.
Capercailzie.—The capercailzie, though very seldom met with at the ordinary English dinner table, may not be overlooked here, for, though a very much larger bird than grouse or blackcock, it is yet to be ranked amongst the same species. In fact, it is a woodland grouse, and sometimes attains the size of a goodly turkey; which is as much as to say, from our point of view, that we should treat him accordingly.
Ptarmigan.—Ptarmigan, too, though less uncommon and smaller than the capercailzie, would not need any especial dissection, and has merely to be cut up according to his size; whilst of course the buttered toast on which he is served may, or may not, be partaken of; and it is just as well for the carver to inquire.
In dispensing any rare or unusual bird it is quite essential that the carver should point out to those at table who are unacquainted with its precise character what it is, and recommend this or that particular part to their consideration. Also in the matter of toast, when it may contain the trail of game, the carver should be very careful not to give any of it to those who may happen to dislike it. There are many people who will only eat game when it is quite fresh, and who would shudder at the thought of consuming the trail.
Dinners
Dinners.—To commence with the manner of eating soup. In olden days it was customary to “drink” it out of a basin. In these days no one “drinks” soup—it is “eaten”; whether it be mock turtle or the clearest Julienne, it is eaten out of a soup plate at dinner, and with a tablespoon. To use a dessertspoon for this purpose is not comme il faut. There is a reason in this: soup is nothing if not hot; and, as it is the custom to give but a very small help of soup—about half a ladleful to each person—it is eaten quicker and hotter with a large spoon. The reason for small helps of soup is that the various courses to follow do not render it expedient to commence with a plateful of soup. At ball suppers, when soup is served in soup plates, it is also eaten with a tablespoon; but when served in small cups a spoon is not used, and it is actually drunk, although fashion does not sanction the expression “I have drunk some soup.”
For fish, the two dinner forks are now superseded by the little silver fish knife and fork. When oysters are given, however, they precede the soup, and are eaten with an ordinary dinner fork, and not with the fish fork. In eating oysters the shell is steadied on the plate with the fingers of the left hand; the oysters are not cut, but are eaten whole. Large dinners are ordered mainly with a view to please the palates of men with epicurean tastes; it is not expected that ladies should eat of the most highly seasoned and richest dishes, but should rather select the plainest. This particularly applies to young ladies and young married ladies; and there are certain things that young ladies are not supposed to eat of at dinner, although handed to them in their turn—as, for instance, marrow patties, foie gras patties, snipe with trail, woodcock with trail, caviare, bloater cheese. Small helps of fish are always given.