It is in the entrée that meat flavourings are carried to their highest pitch, and it is the entrée which is usually the most harmful course at the dinner.
If the entrée were discarded in favour of a vegetable course, it would indeed be a blessing. If you have entrées at all, let them be absolutely simple, such as the one which has been chosen for our specimen dinner.
You may be surprised when we say that meat is more digestible than farinaceous food, and yet that when treating dyspepsia we avoid meat as far as possible. But the apparent contradiction is readily dispelled.
Indigestion is usually due to disease of the stomach, and failure of its power for digestion. Meat is digested practically only in the stomach; farinaceous foods are not digested in the stomach, but lower down in the alimentary canal. It is only when indigestion is due to failure of the stomach that it is benefited by the avoidance of meat. In many forms of dyspepsia a farinaceous diet gives the greatest trouble of all.
Of the joint we will say nothing at present. Horse-radish is a good aromatic digestive stimulant. It used to be used much more frequently than it is, because of its anti-scorbutic properties.
Not many years ago a whole dinner-party was poisoned by eating aconite root in mistake for horse-radish. Nor has this accident happened but once; many cases of poisoning in this way have been recorded. And it is a very terrible thing, for a little aconite root may kill a dozen persons at a time. Aconite root is the root of the blue monk’s-hood (Aconitum Napellus), one of our native English plants. It is rare in the wild state, but is frequently grown in gardens for the sake of its fine spikes of dark blue blossoms. How the aconite root can be mistaken for horse-radish we cannot quite see, for the poisonous root is carrot-shaped, rarely more than three inches long, almost scentless, and with a bitter “mawkish” taste. The smallest quantity of the root produces, when chewed, tingling, followed by prolonged numbness of the tongue and cheeks. All parts of the monk’s-hood are extremely poisonous, but the root is the most deadly part.
And now for a few words about vegetables, the most neglected, yet one of the most important food-stuffs.
It is impossible to over-estimate the value of the potato as an article of diet. Alone it is not a good food, but it is the ideal vegetable to have with meat.
An Irishman asked a companion to dinner, and in answer to the question as to the fare, replied, “Just an illigant pace of corned bafe and pertaters.” To which his friend replied, “My own dinner to a tay, barring the bafe.” Let us hope that he accepted the invitation, for corned beef and potatoes make a good, if rough, meal, but potatoes alone are not sufficient.
It has been questioned by many persons if the introduction of the potato has proved an advantage, for it has driven out the older vegetables, such as salsify and celeriac. But if we look upon the potato merely in the light of a usurper of the place formerly occupied by other vegetables, we must still consider it as an immense boon to mankind.