This latter fact, shows the very slippery ground on which the assertion rests, that has lately astonished the weak minds of our Southern cattle-feeding brethren, from the mouth of one of their talented but hasty lecturers—that the potatoe contains two or three times the weight of nourishment which exists in the turnip. It is true that some varieties of potatoes contain three times as much as some varieties of turnip—but, on the other hand, some turnips contain as much nourishment as an equal weight of potatoes. But no man can tell, by bare inspection, as yet, to which class of turnips, the more or less watery, his own may belong—whether that which is apparently the most prolific may not in reality be the least so—whether that mode of manuring his land which gives him the greatest weight of raw roots may not give him the smallest weight of real substantial food for his stock. What a wide field, therefore, for experiment? To what useful results might they not be expected to lead? If any of our readers wish to undertake such experiments, or to learn how they are to be performed, we refer them to the pamphlet mentioned in the note.
In connexion with the chapter "on the feeding of sheep," we could have wished to advert to the advantages of shelter, in producing the largest weight of meat from a given weight of turnips, or other food—as illustrated by the experiments of Mr. Childers, Lord Western, and others; but we must refer our readers to the passage itself, (vol. ii. p. 51,) as we must also to the no less important comparative view of the advantages of feeding cattle in close byres and in open hammels, (vol. ii. p. 129,) and to the interesting details regarding the use of raw and steamed food, contained in the chapter upon the feeding of cattle, (vol. ii. p. 120 to 148.)
But our author is so cunning in the qualities of mutton—which, as we have already seen, he can "kill so gently," performing the operation without pain—that we think our readers will enjoy the following passage:—
"The gigot is the handsomest and most valuable part of the carcass, and on that account fetches the highest price. It is either a roasting or a boiling piece. Of black-faced mutton it makes a fine roast, and the piece of fat in it called the pope's eye, is considered a delicate morceau by epicures. A gigot of Leicester, Cheviot, or Southdown mutton makes a beautiful 'boiled leg of mutton,' which is prized the more the fatter it is, as this part of the carcass is never overloaded with fat. The loin is almost always roasted, the flap of the flank being skewered up, and it is a juicy piece. For a small family, the black-faced mutton is preferable; for a large, the Southdown and Cheviot. Many consider this piece of Leicester mutton roasted as too rich, and when warm, this is probably the case; but a cold roast loin is an excellent summer dish. The back-ribs are divided into two, and used for very different purposes. The fore-part, the neck, is boiled and makes sweet barley-broth, and the meat, when well boiled, or rather the whole pottage simmered for a considerable time beside the fire, eats tenderly. The back-ribs make an excellent roast; indeed, there is not a sweeter or more varied one in the carcass, having both ribs and shoulder. The shoulder-blade eats best cold, and the ribs warm. The ribs make excellent chops. The Leicester and Southdowns afford the best mutton-chops. The breast is mostly a roasting-piece, consisting of rib and shoulder, and is particularly good when cold. When the piece is large, as of Southdown or Cheviot, the gristly part of the ribs may be divided from the true ribs, and helped separately. The breast is an excellent piece in black-faced mutton, and suitable to small families, the shoulder being eaten cold, while the ribs and brisket are sweet and juicy when warm. This piece also boils well; or, when corned for eight days, and served with onion sauce, with mashed turnip in it, there are few more savoury dishes at a farmer's table. The shoulder is separated before being dressed, and makes an excellent roast for family use, and may be eaten warm or cold, or corned and dressed as the breast mentioned above. The shoulder is best from a large carcass of Southdown, Cheviot, or Leicester, the black-faced being too thin for the purpose; and it was probably because English mutton is usually large that the practice of removing it originated. The neckpiece is partly laid bare by the removal of the shoulder, the fore-part being fitted for boiling and making into broth, and the best end for roasting or broiling into chops. On this account this is a good family piece, and in such request among the tradesmen of London that they prefer it to any part of the hind-quarter."—(Vol. ii. p. 98.)
Nor is he less skilful in the humble food and cooking of the farm-labourer; indeed, he seems never satisfied until he fairly exhausts all the useful matter contained in every subject upon which he touches. He not only breeds, and feeds, and kills, and cooks, but he does the latter with such relish, that we have several times fancied that we could actually see him eating his own mutton, beef, and pork. And, whether he luxuriates over a roast of the back-ribs of mutton, "so sweet and so varied," or complains that "the hotel-keepers have a trick of seasoning brown-soup, or rather beef-tea, with a few joints of tail, and passing it off for genuine ox-tail soup,"—(vol. ii. p. 169,) or describes the "famous fat brose, for which Scotland has long been celebrated," as formed by skimming off the fat when boiling the hough, pouring it upon oatmeal, and seasoning with pepper and salt; or indulges in the humbler brose of the ploughman in his bothy, he evidently enjoys every thing set before him so much, that we are sure he must lay on the fat kindly. We should not wonder if he is himself already nicked; and we cannot more warmly testify our good wishes, than by expressing a hope, that, when he is fully ripe, the grim surgeon will operate upon him without pain, and kill him gently.
One of Mr. Stephens's humbler dishes is the following:—
"The only time Scotch farm-servants indulge in butcher-meat is when a sheep falls, as it is termed; that is, when it is killed before being affected with an unwholesome disease, and the mutton is sold at a reduced price. Shred down the suet small, removing any flesh or cellular membrane adhering to it; then mix amongst it intimately 1/2 oz. of salt and a tea-spoonful of pepper to every pound of suet; put the mixture into an earthen jar, and tie up tightly with bladder. One table spoonful of seasoned suet will, at any time, make good barley-broth or potato-soup for two persons. The lean of the mutton may be shred down small, and seasoned in a similar manner, and used when required; or it may be corned with salt, and used as a joint." —Vol. ii. p. 105.
How much of the natural habits and manners of a country, and of the circumstances and inner life of the various classes of its inhabitants, is to be learned from a study of their cookery!
Reader, what a mystery hangs over the handling of a fat beast! A feeder approaches a well filled short-horn—he touches it here—he pinches it there—he declares it to have many good points about it; but pronounces the existence of defects, where the uninitiated see only beauties. The points of a fat ox, how mysterious they are, how difficult to make out! The five points of Arminianism, our old vicar used to say, were nothing to them. But here, too, Mr. Stephens is at home. Listen to his simple explanation of the whole:
"The first point usually handled is the end of the rump at the tail-head, although any fat here is very obvious, and sometimes attains to an enormous size, amounting even to deformity. The hook-bone gets a touch, and when well covered, is right…. To the hand, or rather to the points of the fingers of the right hand, when laid upon the ribs, the flesh should feel soft and thick and the form be round when all is right, but if the ribs are flat the flesh will feel hard and thin from want of fat. The skin, too, on a rounded rib, will feel soft and mobile, the hair deep and mossy, both indicative of a kindly disposition to lay on flesh. The hand then grasps the flank, and finds it thick, when the existence of internal tallow is indicated…. The palm of the hand laid along the line of the back will point out any objectionable hard piece on it, but if all is soft and pleasant, then the shoulder-top is good. A hollowness behind the shoulder is a very common occurrence; but when it is filled up with a layer of fat, the flesh of all the fore-quarter is thereby rendered very much more valuable. You would scarcely believe that such a difference could exist in the flesh between a lean and a fat shoulder. A high narrow shoulder is frequently attended with a ridged back-bone, and lowset narrow hooks, a form which gets the appropriate name of razor-back, with which will always be found a deficiency of flesh in all the upper part of the animal, where the best flesh always is. If the shoulder-point is covered, and feels soft like the point of the hook-bone, it is good, and indicates a well filled neck-vein, which runs from that point to the side of the head. The shoulder-point, however, is often bare and prominent. When the neck-vein is so firmly filled up as not to permit the points of the fingers inside of the shoulder-point, this indicates a well tallowed animal; as also does the filling up between the brisket and inside of the fore legs, as well as a full, projecting, well covered brisket in front. When the flesh comes down heavy upon the thighs, making a sort of double thigh, it is called lyary, and indicates a tendency of the flesh to grow on the lower instead of the upper part of the body. These are all the points that require touching when the hand is used; and in a high-conditioned ox, they may be gone over very rapidly."—Vol. ii. p. 165.