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OTHER WORKS BY Mk. MATTIEU WILLIAMS. 
 
 Crown 8vo. cloth extra, 75. 6d. 
 
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 London : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 
 
Hee 
 
 CHEMISTRY or COOKERY 
 
 BY 
 
 W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS 
 
 # AUTHOR OF ‘THE FUEL OF THE SUN’ ‘SCIENCE IN SHORT CHAPTERS’ 
 ‘A SIMPLE TREATISE ON HEAT’ ETC, 
 
 #ondow 
 CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 
 1885 
 
 [The right of translation is reserved] 
 
_ LONDON : PRINTED 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., 
 
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PREFACE. 
 
 DURING the infancy of the Birmingham and Midland 
 Institute, when my classes in Cannon Street constituted 
 the whole of its teaching machinery, I delivered a course 
 of lectures to ladies on ‘ Household Philosophy,’ in 
 which ‘The Chemistry of Cookery’ was included. In 
 collecting material for these lectures, I was surprised at 
 the strange neglect of the subject by modern chemists. 
 
 On taking it up again, after an interval of nearly 
 thirty years, I find that (excepting the chemistry of 
 wine cookery), absolutely nothing further, worthy of the 
 name of research, has in the meantime been brought to 
 bear upon it. 
 
 This explanation is demanded as an apology for 
 what some may consider the egotism that permeates this 
 little work. I have been continually compelled to put 
 forth my own explanations of familiar phenomena, my 
 own speculations, concerning the changes effected by 
 cookery, and my own small contributions to the experi- 
 mental investigation of the subject. 
 
 Under these difficult circumstances I have endea- 
 voured to place before the reader a simple and readable | 
 account of what is known of ‘ The Chemistry of Cookery,’ 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 explaining technicalities as they occur, rather than ab- 
 staining from the use of them by means of cumbrous 
 circumlocution or patronising baby-talk. 
 
 With a moderate effort of attention, any unlearned 
 but intelligent reader of either sex may understand all 
 the contents of these chapters ; and I venture to antici- 
 pate that scientific chemists may find in them some 
 suggestive matter. 
 
 If these expectations are justified by results, this 
 preliminary essay will fulfil its double object. It will 
 diffuse a knowledge of what is at present knowable of 
 ‘The Chemistry of Cookery’ among those who greatly 
 need it, and will contribute to the extension of such 
 knowledge by opening a wide and very promising 
 field of scientific research. 
 
 I should add that the work is based on a series of 
 papers that appeared in ‘Knowledge’ during the years 
 
 1883 and 1884, 
 W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS. 
 
 STONEBRIDGE PARK, LONDON, N.W. 
 March 1885. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 I, INTRODUCTORY . ; 3 : ‘ . : R acek 
 Il. THE BOILING OF WATER ; é ; : as 
 
 III, ALBUMEN . : ee : ‘ : : ‘ 19 
 IV. GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT . . 32 
 V. ROASTING AND GRILLING . ; : : ; AF 
 VI. COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER . . , A a) eras 
 VII. FRYING ee Be 
 VIII. STEWING . : : ; 2 ; ; Cera aa 
 IX. CHEESE : : ; : ; ; . eT 27: 
 X. FAT—MILK . .. , : : ; : “2 EAA) 
 XI. THE COOKERY OF VEGETALLES . : : : ass 
 XII. GLUTEN—BREAD_. : , , : ae el On 
 XIII. VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES . ea 
 
 XIV. COUNT RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 227; 
 
 XV. COUNT RUMFORD’S SUBSTITUTE FOR TEA AND 
 
 CSG. i ae a i ee ae Sg 2 i Oe cera 
 
 XVI. THE COOKERY OF WINE ; ee aa 205 
 
 XVI]. THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION... eee err 204 
 SIME ET FOOD. © sw ee ep ws 303 
 XIX. THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION... sty 
 
 INDEX ; : : 4 : fe ee : : peg 25 
 
THE 
 
 Peat kRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 ere LiKe I. 
 
 nei) U CTO RY. 
 
 THE philosopher who first perceived and announced the 
 fact that all the physical doings of man consist simply 
 in changing the places of things, made a very profound 
 generalisation, and one that is worthy of more serious 
 consideration than it has received. 
 
 All our handicraft, however great may be the skill 
 employed, amounts to no more than this. The miner 
 moves the ore and the fuel from their subterranean 
 -resting-places, then they are moved into the furnace, 
 and by another moving of combustibles the working of 
 the furnace is started ; then the metals are moved to the 
 foundries and forges, then under hammers, or squeezers, 
 or into melting-pots, and thence to moulds. The work- 
 
 man shapes the bars, or plates, or castings by removing 
 a part of their substance, and by more and more movings 
 of material produces the engine, which does its work 
 when fuel and water are moved into its fireplace and 
 boiler. 
 
 The statue is within the rough block of marble; the 
 
 B 
 
2 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 sculptor merely moves away the outer portions, and 
 thereby renders his artistic conception visible to his 
 fellow-men. 
 
 The agriculturist merely moves the soil in order that 
 it may receive the seed, which he then moves into it, 
 and when the growth is completed, he moves the result, 
 and thereby makes his harvest. 
 
 The same may be said of every other operation. 
 Man alters the position of physical things in such wise 
 that the forces of Nature shall operate upon them, and 
 produce the changes or other results that he requires. 
 
 My reasons for this introductory digression will be 
 easily understood, as this view of the doings of man and 
 the doings of Nature displays fundamentally the business 
 of human education, so far as the physical proceedings 
 and physical welfare of mankind are concerned. 
 
 It clearly points out two well-marked natural divi- 
 sions of such education—education or training in the 
 movements to be made, and education in a knowledge 
 of the consequences of such movements—z.e. in a know- 
 ledge of the forces of Nature which actually do the work 
 when man has suitably arranged the materials. 
 
 The education ordinarily given to apprentices in the 
 workshop, or the field, or the studio—or, as relating to 
 my present subject, the kitchen—is the first of. these, 
 the second and equally necessary being simply and 
 purely the teaching of physical science as applied to the 
 arts. 
 
 I cannot proceed any further without a protest 
 against a very general (so far as this country is con- 
 cerned) misuse of a now very popular term, a misuse 
 that is rather surprising, seeing that it is accepted by 
 scholars who have devoted the best of their intellectual 
 efforts to the study of words. I refer to the word 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 3 
 
 technical as applied in the designation ‘technical educa- 
 tion.’ 
 
 So long as our workshops are separated from our 
 science schools and colleges, it is most desirable, in order 
 to avoid continual circumlocution, to have terms that 
 shall properly distinguish between the work of the two, 
 and admit of definite and consistent use. The two 
 words are ready at hand, and, although of Greek origin, 
 have become, by analogous usage, plain simple English. 
 I mean the words ¢echnical and technological. 
 
 The Greek noun ¢echne signifies an art, trade, or pro- 
 fession, and our established usage of this root is in 
 accordance with its signification. Therefore, ‘technical 
 education’ is a suitable and proper designation of the 
 training which is given to apprentices, &c., in the strictly 
 technical details of their trades, arts, or professions— 
 z.é. in the skilful moving of things. When we require a 
 name for the science or the philosophy of anything, we 
 obtain it by using the Greek root /ogos, and appending 
 it in English form to the Greek name of the general 
 subject, as geology, the science of the earth; anthro- 
 pology, the science of man; biology, the science of 
 life, &c. 
 
 Why not then follow this general usage, and adopt 
 ‘technology ’ as the science of trades, arts, or professions, 
 and thereby obtain consistent and convenient terms to 
 designate the two divisions of education—technical 
 education, that given in the workshop, &c., and techno- 
 logical education, that which should be given as supple- 
 mentary to all such technical education ? 
 
 In accordance with this, the present work will be 
 a contribution to the technology of cookery, or to the 
 technological education of cooks, whose technical educa- 
 
 tion is'quite beyond my reach. 
 B2 
 
4 THE CHEMISTRY OF ‘COOKERY. 
 
 The kitchen is a chemical laboratory in which are 
 conducted a number of chemical processes by which our 
 food is converted from its crude state to a condition 
 more suitable for digestion and nutrition, and made 
 more agreeable to the palate. 
 
 It is the rationale or ology of these processes that I 
 shall endeavour to explain; but at the outset it is only 
 fair to say that in many instances I shall not succeed 
 in doing this satisfactorily, as there still remain some 
 kitchen mysteries that have not yet come within the 
 firm grasp of science. The zole story of the chemical 
 differences between a roast, a boiled, and a raw leg of 
 mutton has not yet been told. You and I, gentle reader, 
 aided by no other apparatus than a knife and fork, can 
 easily detect the difference between a cut out of the 
 saddle of a three-year-old Southdown and one from a 
 ten-months-old meadow-fed Leicester, but the chemist in 
 his laboratory, with all his reagents, test-tubes, beakers, 
 combustion-tubes, potash-bulbs, &c. &c., and his balance 
 turning to one-thousandth of a grain, cannot physically 
 demonstrate the sources of these differences of flavour. 
 
 Still 1 hope to show that modern chemistry can 
 throw into the kitchen a great deal of light that shall 
 not merely help the cook 1n doing his or her work more 
 efficiently, but shall also elevate both the work and the 
 worker, and render the kitchen far more interesting to all 
 intelligent people who have an appetite for knowledge, 
 as well as for food ; more so than it can be while the 
 cook is groping in rule-of-thumb darkness—is merely a 
 technical operator unenlightened by technological intel- 
 ligence. 
 
 In the course of these papers I shall draw largely on 
 the practical and philosophical work of that remarkable 
 man, Benjamin Thompson, the Massachusetts ’prentice- 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 5 
 
 boy and schoolmaster; afterwards the British soldier 
 and diplomatist, Colonel Sir Benjamin Thompson; then 
 Colonel of Horse and General Aide-de-Camp of the 
 Elector Charles Theodore of Bavaria; then Major- 
 General of Cavalry, Privy Councillor of State and head 
 of War Department of Bavaria; then Count Rumford 
 of the Holy Roman Empire and Order of the White 
 Eagle; then Military Dictator of Bavaria, with full 
 governing powers during the absence of the Elector ; 
 then a private resident in Brompton Road, and founder 
 of the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street; then a 
 Parisian cztoyen, the husband of the ‘ Goddess of Reason.’ 
 the widow of Lavoisier; but, above all, a practical and 
 scientific cook, whose exploits in economic cookery are 
 still but very imperfectly appreciated, though he himself 
 evidently regarded them as the most important of all his 
 varied achievements. 
 
 His faith in cookery is well expressed in the follow- 
 ing, where he is speaking of his experiments in feeding 
 the Bavarian army and the poor of Munich. He says: 
 ‘I constantly found that the richness or quality of a 
 soup depended more upon the proper choice of the 
 _ ingredients, and a proper management of the fire in the 
 combination of these ingredients, than upon the quantity 
 of solid nutritious matter employed ; much more upon 
 the art and skill of the cook than upon the sums laid 
 out in the market.’ 
 
 A great many fallacies are continually perpetrated, 
 not only by ignorant people, but even by eminent 
 chemists and physiologists, by inattention to what is 
 indicated in this passage. In many chemical and physio- 
 logical works may be found elaborately minute tables of 
 the chemical composition of certain articles of food, and 
 with these the assumption (either directly stated or 
 
6 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE, 
 
 implied as a matter of course) that such tables represent 
 the practical nutritive value of the food. The illusory 
 character of such assumption is easily understood. In 
 the first place the analysis is usually that of the article 
 of food in its raw state, and thus all the chemical 
 changes involved in the process of cookery are ignored. 
 
 Secondly, the difficulty or facility of assimilation is 
 too often unheeded. This depends both upon the original 
 condition of the food and the changes which the cookery 
 has produced—changes which may double its nutritive 
 value without effecting more than a small percentage of 
 alteration in its chemical composition as revealed by 
 laboratory analysis. 
 
 In the recent discussion on whole-meal bread, for 
 example, chemical analyses of the bran, &c., are quoted, 
 and it is commonly assumed that if these can be shown 
 to contain more of the theoretical bone-making or brain- 
 making elements, that they are, therefore, in reference to 
 these requirements, more nutritious than the fine flour, 
 But before we are justified in asserting this, it must be 
 made clear that these outer and usually rejected portions 
 of the grain are as easily digested and assimilated as the 
 finer inner flour. 
 
 I think I shall be able to show that the practical 
 failure of this whole-meal bread movement (which is not 
 a novelty, but only a revival) is mainly due to the dis- 
 regard of the cookery question; that whole-meal pre- 
 pared as bread by simple baking is less nutritious than 
 fine flour similarly prepared ; but that whole-meal other- 
 wise prepared may be, and has been, made more nutritious 
 than fine white bread. 
 
 Another preliminary example. <A pound of biscuit 
 contains more solid nutritive matter than a pound of 
 beefsteak, but may not, when eaten by ordinary mortals, 
 do so much nutritive work. Why is this? 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 7 
 
 It is a matter of preparation—not exactly what is 
 called cooking, but equivalent to what cooking should 
 be. It is the preparation which has converted the grass 
 food of the ox into another kind of food which we can 
 assimilate very easily. 
 
 The fact that we use the digestive and nutrient 
 apparatus of sheep, oxen, &c., for the preparation of our 
 food, is merely a transitory barbarism, to be ultimately 
 superseded when my present subject is sufficiently un- 
 derstood and applied to enable us to prepare the con- 
 stituents of the vegetable kingdom in such a manner 
 that they shall be as easily assimilated as the prepared 
 grass which we call beef and mutton, and which we now 
 use only on account of our ignorance of the subject 
 treated in the following chapters. I do not presume to 
 assert or suggest that my efforts towards the removal of 
 this ignorance will transport us at once into a vegetarian 
 millennium, but if they only open the gate and show 
 us that there is a road on which we may travel to- 
 wards great improvements in the preparation of our food 
 as regards flavour, economy, and wholesomeness, my 
 reasonable readers will not be disappointed. 
 
 So much of cookery being effected by the applica- 
 tion of heat, a sketch of the general laws of heat might 
 be included in this introductory chapter, but for the 
 necessary extent of the subject. 
 
 I omit it without compunction, having already 
 written ‘A Simple Treatise on Heat,’ which is divested 
 of technical difficulties by presenting simply the pheno- 
 mena and laws of Nature without any artificial scholastic 
 complications. Messrs. Chatto & Windus have brought 
 out this little essay in a cheap form, and, in spite of the 
 risk of being accused of puffing my own wares, I recom- 
 mend its perusal to those who are earnestly studying 
 the whole philosophy of cookery. 
 
8 THE CHEMISTRY OF - COCK iia 
 
 CHAP AE Kei 
 
 THE BOILING OF WATER. 
 
 As this is one of the most rudimentary of the opera- 
 tions of cookery, and the most frequently performed, it 
 naturally takes a first: place in treating the subject. 
 
 Water is boiled in the kitchen for two distinct 
 purposes: Ist, for the cooking of itself; 2nd, for the 
 cooking of other things. A dissertation on the differ- 
 ence between raw water and cooked water may appear 
 pedantic, but, as I shall presently show, it is consider- 
 able, very practical, and important. 
 
 The best way to study any physical subject is to 
 examine it experimentally, but this is not always pos- 
 sible with everyday means. In this case, however, there 
 is no difficulty. 
 
 Take a thin! glass vessel, such as a flask, or, better, 
 one of the ‘beakers,’ or thin tumbler-shaped vessels, so 
 largely used in chemical laboratories ; partially fill it 
 with ordinary household water, and then place it over 
 the flame of a spirit-lamp, or Bunsen’s, or other smoke- 
 less gas-burner. Carefully watch the result, and the 
 following will be observed: first of all, little bubbles 
 
 1 In applying heat to glass vessels, thickness is a source of weakness 
 or liability to fracture, on account of the unequal expansion of the two 
 sides, due to inequality of temperature, which, of course, increases with 
 the thickness of the glass. Besides this, the thickness increases the 
 leverage of the breaking strain. 
 
THE BOILING OF WATER. 9 
 
 will be formed, adhering to the sides of the glass, but 
 ultimately rising to the surface, and there becoming 
 dissipated by diffusion in the air. 
 
 This is not boiling, as may be proved by trying the 
 temperature with the finger. What, then, is it? 
 
 It is the yielding back of the atmospheric gases 
 which the water has dissolved or condensed within 
 itself. These bubbles have been collected, and by 
 analysis proved to consist of oxygen, nitrogen, and 
 carbonic acid, obtained from the air; but in the water 
 they exist by no means in the same proportions as 
 originally in the airy nor in constant proportions in 
 different samples of water. I need not here go into 
 the quantitative details of these proportions, nor the rea- 
 sons of their variation, though they are very interesting 
 subjects. 
 
 Proceeding with our investigation, we shall find that 
 the bubbles continue to form and rise until the water 
 becomes too hot for the finger to bear immersion. At 
 about this stage something else begins to occur. Much 
 larger bubbles, or rather blisters, are now formed on the 
 bottom of the vessel, immediately over the flame, and 
 they continually collapse into apparent nothingness. 
 Even at this stage a thermometer immersed in the 
 water will show that the boiling-point is not reached. 
 As the temperature rises, these blisters rise higher and 
 higher, become more and more nearly spherical, finally 
 quite so, then detach themselves and rise towards the 
 surface; but the first that make this venture perish 
 in the attempt—they gradually collapse as they rise, 
 and vanish before reaching the surface. The thermo- 
 meter now shows that the boiling-point is nearly 
 reached, but not quite. Presently the bubbles rise 
 completely to the surface and break there. Now the 
 
10 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 ° 
 
 water is boiling, and the thermometer stands at 212 
 Fahr. or 100° Cent. 
 
 With the aid of suitable apparatus it can be shown 
 that the atmospheric gases above named continue to 
 be given off along with the steam for a considerable 
 time after the boiling has commenced ; the complete 
 removal of their last traces being a very difficult, if not 
 an impossible, physical problem. 
 
 After a moderate period of boiling, however, we 
 may practically regard the water as free from these 
 gases. In this condition I venture to call it cooked 
 water. Our experiment so far indicates one of the 
 differences between cooked and raw water, The cooked 
 water has been deprived of the atmospheric gases that 
 the raw water contained. By cooling some of the 
 cooked water and tasting it, the difference of flavour — 
 is very perceptible; by no means improved, though it 
 is quite possible to acquire a preference for this flat, 
 tasteless liquid. 
 
 If a fish be placed in such cooked water it swims for 
 a while with its mouth at the surface, for just there is 
 a film that is reacquiring its charge of oxygen, &c., by 
 absorbing it from the air; but this film is so thin, and 
 so poorly charged, that after a short struggle the fish dies 
 for lack of oxygen in its blood ; drowned as truly and 
 completely as an air-breathing animal when immersed 
 in any kind of water. 
 
 Spring water and river water that have passed 
 through or over considerable distances in calcareous ~ 
 districts suffer another change in boiling. The origin 
 and nature of this change may be shown by another 
 experiment as follows: Buy a pennyworth of lime- 
 water from a druggist, and procure a small glass tube 
 of about quill size, or the stem of a fresh tobacco-pipe 
 
THE BOILING OF WATER. Il 
 
 may be used. Half fill a small wine-glass with the 
 lime-water, and blow through it by means of the tube 
 or tobacco-pipe. Presently it will become turbid. Con- 
 tinue the blowing, and the turbidity will increase up 
 to a certain degree of milkiness. Go on blowing with 
 ‘commendable perseverance, and an inversion of effect 
 will follow ; the turbidity diminishes, and at last the 
 water becomes clear again. 
 
 The chemistry of this is simple enough. From the 
 lungs a mixture of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbonic acid 
 is exhaled. The carbonic acid combines with the 
 soluble lime, and forms a carbonate of lime which is 
 insoluble in mere water. But this carbonate of lime 
 is to a certain extent soluble in water saturated with 
 carbonic acid, and such saturation is effected by the 
 continuation of blowing. 
 
 Now take some of the lime-water that has been thus 
 treated, place it in a clean glass flask, and boil it. After 
 a short time the flask will be found incrusted with a 
 thin film of something. This is the carbonate of lime 
 which has been thrown down again by the action of 
 boiling, which has driven off its solvent, the carbonic 
 acid. This crust will effervesce if a little acid is added 
 to it. 
 
 In this manner our tea-kettles, engine-boilers, &c., 
 become incrusted when fed with calcareous waters, and 
 most waters are calcareous ; those supplied to London, 
 which is surrounded by chalk, are largely so. Thus, 
 the boiling or cooking of such water effects a removal 
 of its mineral impurities more or less completely. Other 
 waters contain such mineral matter as salts of sodium 
 and potassium. These are not removable by mere 
 boiling, being equally soluble in hot or cold, aerated, or 
 non-aerated water. 
 
12 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK Ee 
 
 Usually we have no very strong motive for removing 
 either these or the dissolved carbonate of lime, or the 
 atmospheric gases from water, but there is another 
 class of impurities of serious importance. These are 
 the organic matters dissolved in all water that has run 
 over land covered with vegetable growth, or, more 
 especially, that which has received contributions from 
 sewers or any other form of house drainage. Such 
 water supplies nutriment to those microscopic abomina- 
 tions, the zzcrococct, bacillt, bacteria, &c., which are now 
 shown to be connected with blood poisoning. ‘These 
 little pests are harmless, and probably nutritious, when 
 cooked, but in their raw and growing state are horribly 
 prolific in the blood of people who are in certain states 
 of what is called ‘receptivity. They (the bacteria, &c.) 
 appear to be poisoned or somehow killed off by the 
 digestive secretions of the blood of some people, and 
 nourished luxuriantly in the blood of others. As nobody 
 can be quite sure to which class he belongs, or may 
 presently belong, or whether the water supplied to his 
 household is free from blood-poisoning organisms, cooked 
 water is a safer beverage than raw water. I should add 
 that this germ theory of disease is disputed by some 
 who maintain that the source of the diseases attributed 
 to such microbia is chemical poison, the microbia (Ze. 
 little living things) are merely accidental, or creatures 
 fed on the disease-producing poison. In either case 
 the boiling is effectual, as such organic poisons when 
 cooked lose their original virulent properties. 
 
 The requirement for this simple operation of cooking 
 increases with the density of our population, which, on 
 reaching a certain degree, renders the pollution of all 
 water obtained from the ordinary sources almost in- 
 evitable. 
 
THE BOILING OF WATER. 13 
 
 Reflecting on this subject, I have been struck with a 
 curious fact that has hitherto escaped notice, viz. that 
 in the country which over all others combines a very 
 large population with a very small allowance of cleanli- 
 ness, the ordinary drink of the people is boiled water, 
 flavoured by an infusion of leaves. These people, the 
 Chinese, seem in fact to have been the inventors of 
 boiled-water beverages. Judging from travellers’ ac- 
 counts of the state of the rivers, rivulets, and general 
 drainage and irrigation arrangements of China, its 
 population could scarcely have reached its present 
 density if Chinamen were drinkers of raw instead of 
 cooked water. This is especially remarkable in the case 
 of such places as Canton, where large numbers are 
 living afloat on the mouths of sewage-laden rivers or 
 estuaries. 
 
 The ordinary everyday domestic beverage is a weak 
 infusion of tea, made in a large teapot, kept in a padded 
 basket to retain the heat. The whole family is supplied 
 from this reservoir. The very poorest drink plain hot 
 water, or water tinged by infusing the spent tea-leaves 
 rejected by their richer neighbours. 
 
 Next to the boiling of water for its own sake, comes 
 the boiling of water as a medium for the cooking of 
 other things. Here, at the outset, I] have to correct an 
 error of language which, as too often happens, leads by 
 continual suggestion to false ideas. When we speak of 
 ‘poiled beef, ‘boiled mutton, ‘boiled eggs,’ ‘boiled 
 potatoes,’ we talk nonsense; we are not merely using 
 an elliptical expression, as when we say, ‘the kettle 
 boils, which we all understand to mean the contents 
 of the kettle, but we are expounding a false theory of 
 what has happened to the beef, &c.-—as false as though 
 we should describe the material of the kettle that has 
 
14 THE CHEMISTRV OF COOKERY. 
 
 held boiling water as boiled copper or boiled iron. No 
 boiling of the food takes place in any such cases as the 
 above-named—it is merely heated by immersion in 
 boiling water ; the changes that actually take place in 
 the food are essentially different from those of ebulli- 
 tion. Even the water contained in the meat is not 
 boiled in ordinary cases, as its boiling-point is higher 
 than that of the surrounding water, owing to the salts 
 it holds in solution. 
 
 Thus, as a matter of chemical fact, a ‘boiled leg of 
 mutton’ is one that has been cooked, but not boiled ; 
 while a roasted leg of mutton is one that has been par- 
 tially boiled. Much of the constituent water of flesh is 
 boiled out, fairly driven away as vapour during roasting 
 or baking, and the fat on its surface is also boiled, and, 
 more or less, dissociated into its chemical elements, car- 
 bon and water, as shown by the browning, due to the 
 separated carbon. 
 
 As I shall presently show, this verbal explanation is 
 no mere verbal quibble, but it involves important prac- 
 tical applications. An enormous waste of precious fuel 
 is perpetrated every day, throughout the whole length 
 and breadth of Britain and other countries where English 
 cookery prevails, on account of the almost universal 
 ignorance of the philosophy of the so-called boiling of 
 food. 
 
 When it is once fairly understood that the meat is 
 not to be boiled, but is merely to be warmed by immer- 
 sion in water raised to a maximum temperature of 212°, 
 and when it is further understood that water cannot 
 (under ordinary atmospheric pressure) be raised to a 
 higher temperature than 212° by any amount of violent 
 boiling, the popular distinction between ‘simmering’ 
 
THE BOILING OF WATER. 15 
 
 and boiling, which is so obstinately maintained as a 
 kitchen superstition, is demolished. 
 
 The experiment described on pages 8 and 9 showed 
 that immediately the bubbles of steam reach the surface 
 of the water and break there—that is, when simmering 
 commences—the thermometer reaches the boiling-point, 
 and that however violently the boiling may afterwards 
 occur, the thermometer rises no higher. Therefore, as 
 a medium for heating the substances to be cooked, sim- 
 mering water is just as effective as ‘walloping’ water. 
 There are exceptional operations of cookery, wherein 
 useful mechanical work is done by violent boiling ; but 
 in all ordinary cookery simmering is just as effective. 
 The heat that is applied to do more than the smallest 
 degree of simmering is simply wasted in converting 
 water into useless steam. The amount of such waste 
 may be easily estimated. To raise a given quantity of 
 water from the freezing to the boiling point demands 
 an amount of heat represented by 180° in Fahrenheit’s 
 thermometer, or 100° Centigrade. To convert this into 
 steam, 990° Fahr. or 550° Cent. is necessary—just five- 
 and-a-half times as much. 
 
 On a properly-constructed hot-plate or sand-bath a 
 dozen saucepans may be kept at the true cooking tem- 
 perature, with an expenditure of fuel commonly em- 
 ployed in England to ‘boil’ onesaucepan. In the great 
 majority of so-called boiling operations, even simmering 
 isunnecessary. Not only isa ‘boiled leg of mutton’ not 
 itself boiled, but even the water in which it is cooked 
 should not be kept boiling, as we shall presently see. 
 
 The following, written by Count Rumford nearly 
 100 years ago, remains applicable at the present time, in 
 spite of all our modern research and science teaching : 
 
16 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 ‘The process by which food is most commonly pre- 
 pared for the table—BOILING—is so familiar to every- 
 one, and its effects are so uniform and apparently so 
 simple, that few, I believe, have taken the trouble to 
 inquire ow or in what manner these effects are pro- 
 duced ; and whether any and what improvements in 
 that branch of cookery are possible. So little has this 
 matter been an object of inquiry that few, very few in- 
 deed I believe, among the mllions of persons who for 
 so many ages have been daly employed in this process, 
 have ever given themselves the trouble to bestow one 
 serious thought upon the subject. 
 
 ‘The cook knows from experience that if his joint of 
 meat be kept a certain time immersed in boiling water 
 it will be done, as it is called in the language of the 
 kitchen ; but if he be asked what is done to it, or how 
 or by what agency the change it has undergone has been 
 effected—if he understands the question—it is ten to 
 one but he will be embarrassed. If he does not under- 
 stand he will probably answer without hesitation, that 
 “The meat is made tender and eatable by being boiled.” 
 Ask him if the boiling of the water be essential to the 
 process. He will answer, “ Without doubt.” Push him 
 a little further by asking him whether, weve zt posszble to 
 keep the water egually hot without boiling, the meat 
 would not be cooked as soon and as well as if the water 
 were made to boil. Here it is probable he will make 
 the first step towards acquiring knowledge by learning to 
 doubt,’ 
 
 In another place he points to the fact that at Munich, 
 where his chief cookery operations were performed, 
 water boils at 2094° (on account of its elevation), 
 while in London the boiling-point is 212°. ‘Yet nobody, 
 [ believe, ever perceived that boiled meat was less done 
 
THE BOILING OF WATER. 17 
 
 at Munich than at London. But if meat may without 
 the least difficulty be cooked with a heat of 209}° at 
 Munich, why should it not be possible to cook it with 
 the same degree of heat in London? If this can be 
 done in London (which I think can hardly admit of a 
 doubt), then it is evident that the process of cookery, 
 which is called doz/zng, may be performed in water which 
 is not boiling hot.’ 
 
 He proceeds to say, ‘I well know, from my own ex- 
 perience, how difficult it is to persuade cooks of this 
 truth, but it is so important that no pains should be 
 spared in endeavouring to remove their prejudices and 
 enlighten their understandings. This may be done most 
 effectually in the case before us by a method I have 
 several times put in practice with complete success. It 
 is as follows: Take two equal boilers, containing equal 
 quantities of dozing hot water, and put into them two 
 equal pieces of meat taken from the same carcase— two 
 legs of mutton, for instance—and boil them during the 
 same time. Under one of the boilers make a small fire, 
 just barely sufficient to keep the water Jdozling hot, or 
 rather just deginning to boil; under the other make as 
 vehement a fire as possible, and keep the water boiling 
 the whole time with the utmost violence. The meat in 
 the boiler in which the water has been kept only just 
 boiling hot will be found to be quite as well done as that 
 in the other. It will even be found to be much better 
 cooked, that is to say tenderer, more juicy, and much 
 higher flavoured.’ 
 
 Rumford at this date (1802) understood perfectly 
 that the water just boiling hot had the same temperature 
 as that which was boiling with the utmost violence, but 
 did not understand that the best result is obtained at a 
 
 Cc 
 
18 THE CHEMISTRY OF “COOK 
 
 much lower temperature, for in another place he states 
 that if the meat be cooked in water under pressure, so 
 that the temperature shall exceed 212°, it will be done 
 proportionally quicker and as well. My reasons for 
 controverting this will be explained in the following 
 
 chapters, 
 
19 
 
 Pe eee cht TT. 
 
 ALBUMEN. 
 
 IN order to illustrate some of the changes which take 
 place in the cooking of animal food, I will first take the 
 simple case of cooking an egg by means of hot water. 
 These changes are in this case easily visible and very 
 simple, although the egg itself contains all the materials 
 of a complete animal. Bones, muscles, viscera, brain, 
 nerves, and feathers of the chicken—all are produced 
 from the egg, nothing being added, and little or nothing 
 taken away. 
 
 I should, however, add that in eating an egg we do 
 not get guzfe so much of it as the chicken does. Liebig 
 found by analysis that in the white and the yolk there is 
 a deficiency of mineral matter for supplying the bones of 
 the chick, and that this deficiency is supplied by some of 
 the shell being dissolved by the phosphoric acid which 
 is formed inside the egg by the combination of the 
 oxygen of the air (which passes through the shell) with 
 the phosphorus contained in the soft matter of the egg. 
 
 By comparing the shell of a hen’s egg after the 
 chicken is hatched from it with that of a freshly-laid 
 egg, the difference of thickness may be easily seen. 
 
 When we open a raw egg, we find enveloped in a 
 stoutish membrane a quantity of glairy, slimy, viscous, 
 colourless fluid, which, as everybody now knows, is called 
 
 albumen, a Latin translation of its common name, ‘ ¢he 
 C2 
 
20 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKEae, 
 
 white, Within the white of the egg is the yolk, chiefly 
 composed of albumen, but with some other consti- 
 tuents added—notably a peculiar oil, At present I will 
 only consider the changes which cookery effects on the 
 main constituent of the egg, merely adding that this 
 same albumen is one of the most important, if not the 
 one most important, material of animal food, and is 
 represented by a corresponding nutritious constituent 
 in vegetables. 
 
 We all know that when an egg has been immersed 
 during a few minutes in boiling water, the colourless, 
 slimy liquid is converted into the white solid to which it 
 owes its name, This coagulation of albumen is one of 
 the most decided and best understood changes effected 
 by cookery, and therefore demands especial study. 
 
 Place some fresh, raw white of egg in a test-tube or 
 other suitable glass vessel, and in the midst of it im- . 
 merse the bulb of a thermometer. (Cylindrical ther- 
 mometers, with the degrees marked on the glass stem, 
 are made for such laboratory purposes.) Place the tube 
 containing the albumen in a vessel of water, and gra- 
 dually heat this. When the albumen attains a tempera- 
 ture of about 134° Fahr., white fibres will begin to appear 
 within it; these will increase until about 160° is at- 
 tained, when the whole mass will become white and 
 nearly opaque.’ It is now coagulated, and may be 
 called solid. Now examine some of the result, and 
 you will find that the albumen thus only just coagulated 
 is a tender, delicate, jelly-like substance, having every 
 
 ‘ Tarchnoff has recently discovered the curious fact that the white of 
 the eggs of birds that are hatched without feathers remains transparent 
 when coagulated, while the eggs which produce chickens and other birds 
 already fledged become opaque when coagulated. This is familiarly illus- 
 trated by the difference between plovers’ eggs and hens’ eggs when cooked. 
 
ALBUMEN. 21 
 
 appearance to sight, touch, and taste of being easily 
 digestible. This is the case. 
 
 Having settled these points, proceed with the experi- 
 ment by heating the remainder of the albumen (or a 
 new sample) up to 212°, and keeping it for awhile at 
 this temperature. It will dry, shrink, and become horny. 
 If the heat is carried a little further, it becomes con- 
 verted into a substance which is so hard and tough that 
 a valuable cement is obtained by simply smearing the 
 edges of the article to be cemented with white of egg, 
 and then heating it to a little above 212°.) 
 
 This simple experiment teaches a great deal of what 
 is but little known concerning the philosophy of cookery. 
 It shows in the first place that, so far as the coagulation 
 of the albumen is concerned, the cooking temperature 
 is not 212°, or that of boiling water, but 160°, ze 52° 
 below it. Everybody knows the difference between a 
 tender, juicy steak, rounded or plumped out in the 
 middle, and a tough, leathery abomination, that has 
 been so cooked as to shrivel and curl up. The con- 
 traction, drying up, and hornifying of the albumen in 
 the test-tube represents the albumen of the latter, while 
 the tender, delicate, trembling, semi-solid that was co- 
 agulated at 160°, represents the albumen in the first. 
 
 But this is a digression, or rather anticipation, seeing 
 that the grilling of a beefsteak is a problem of profound 
 complexity that we cannot solve until we have mastered 
 the rudiments. We have not yet determined how to 
 practically apply the laws of albumen coagulation as 
 
 1 ¢Egg-cement,’ made by thickening white of egg with finely-powdered 
 quicklime, has long been used for mending alabaster, marble, &c. For 
 joining fragments of fossils and mineralogical specimens, it will be found 
 very useful. White of egg alone may be used, if carefully heated 
 afterwards, 
 
22 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKEa® 
 
 discovered by our test-tube experiment to the cooking 
 of a breakfast egg. The non-professional student may 
 do this at the breakfast fireside. The apparatus required 
 is a saucepan large enough for boiling a pint of water— 
 the materials, two eggs. 
 
 Cook one in the orthodox manner by keeping it in 
 boiling water three-and-a-half minutes. Then place the 
 other in this same boiling water ; but, instead of keeping 
 the saucepan over the fire, place it on the hearth and 
 leave it there, with the egg in it, about ten minutes or 
 more. A still better way of making the comparative 
 experiment is to use, for the second egg, a water-bath, 
 or bain-marie of the French cook—a vessel immersed in 
 boiling, or nearly boiling water, like a glue-pot, and 
 therefore not quite so hot as its source of heat. In this 
 case a thermometer should be used, and the water 
 surrounding the egg be kept at or near 180° Fahr. 
 Time of immersion about ten or twelve minutes. 
 
 A comparison of results will show that the egg that 
 has been cooked at a temperature of more than 30° 
 below the boiling-point of water is tender and delicate, 
 evenly so throughout, no part being hard while another 
 part is semi-raw and slimy. 
 
 I said ‘ten minutes or more, because, when thus 
 cooked, a prolonged exposure to the hot water does no 
 mischief ; if the temperature of 160° is not exceeded, it 
 may remain twice as long without hardening. The 180° 
 is above-named because the rising of the temperature of 
 the egg itself is due to the difference between its own 
 temperature and that of the water, and when that differ- 
 ence is very small, this takes place very slowly, besides 
 which the temperature of the water is, of course, lowered 
 in raising that of the cold egg. 
 
 In order to test this principle severely, I made the 
 
ALBUMEN 23 
 
 following experiment. At 10.30 P.M. I placed a new- 
 laid egg in a covered stoneware jar, of about one-pint 
 capacity, and filled this with boiling water; then wrapped 
 the jar in many folds of flannel—so many that, with the 
 ege, they filled a hat-case, in which I placed the bundle 
 and left it there until breakfast-time next morning, ten 
 hours later. On unrolling, I found the water cooled 
 down to 95°; the yolk of the egg was hard, but the 
 white only just solidified and much softer than the yolk. 
 On repeating the experiment, and leaving the egg in its 
 flannel coating for four hours, the temperature of the 
 water was 123°, and the egg in similar condition—the 
 white cooked in perfection, delicately tender, but the 
 yolk too hard. A third experiment of twelve hours, 
 water at 200° on starting, gave a similar result as regards 
 the state of the egg. 
 
 I thus found that the yolk coagulates firmly at a 
 lower temperature than the white. Whether this is due 
 to a different condition of the albumen itself or to the 
 action of the other constituents on the albumen, requires 
 further research to determine. The albumen of the yolk 
 has received the name of ‘vitellin” and is usually 
 described as another variety differing from that of the 
 white, as it is differently affected by chemical reagents ; 
 but Lehmann! regards it as a mixture of albumen and 
 casein, and describes experiments which justify his con- 
 clusion. The difference of the temperature of coagula- 
 tion does not appear to have been observed, and I cannot 
 understand how the admixture of casein can effect it. 
 
 When eggs are cooked in the ordinary way, the 
 34 minutes’ immersion is insufficient to allow the heat 
 to pass fully to the middle of the egg, and therefore the 
 white is subjected to a higher temperature than the yolk. 
 
 1 Physiological Chemistry, vol. ii. p. 356. 
 
a4 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 In my experiment there was time for a practically 
 uniform diffusion of the heat throughout. 
 
 I shall describe hereafter what is called the ‘ Nor- 
 wegian’ cooking apparatus, wherein fowls, &c., are 
 cooked as the eggs were in my hat-case. 
 
 Albumen exists in flesh as one of its juices, rather 
 than in a definitely-organised condition. It is dis- 
 tributed between the fibres of the lean (ze. the muscles), 
 and it lubricates the tissues generally, besides being an 
 important constituent of the blood itself—of that portion 
 of the blood which remains liquid when the blood is 
 dead—z.e. the serum. As blood is not an ordinary 
 article of food, excepting in the form of ‘ black puddings,’ 
 its albumen need not be here considered, nor the debated 
 question of whether its albumen is identical with the 
 albumen of the flesh. 
 
 Existing thus in a liquid state in our ordinary flesh 
 meats, it is liable to be wasted in the course of cookery, 
 especially if the cook has only received the customary 
 technical education and remains in technological ignor- 
 ance. 
 
 To illustrate this, let us suppose that a leg of mutton, 
 a slice of cod, or a piece of salmon is to be cooked in 
 water, ‘ boiled,’ as the cook says. Keeping in mind the 
 results of the previously-described experiments on the 
 egg-albumen, and also the fact that in its liquid state 
 albumen is diffusible in water, the reader may now stand 
 as scientific umpire in answering the question whether 
 the fish or the flesh should be put in hot water at once, 
 or in cold water, and be gradually heated. The ‘big- 
 endians’ and the ‘little-endians’ of Liliput were not 
 more definitely divided than are certain cookery autho- 
 rities on this question in reference to fish. Referring at 
 
ALBUMEN. 26 
 
 random to the cookery-books that come first to hand, I 
 find them about equally divided on the question. 
 
 Confining our attention at present to the albumen, 
 what must happen if the fish or flesh is put in cold 
 water, which is gradually heated? Obviously a loss of 
 albumen by exudation and diffusion through the water, 
 especially in the case of sliced fish or of meat exposing 
 _ much surface of fibres cut across. It is also evident that 
 such loss of albumen will be shown by its coagulation 
 when the water is sufficiently heated. 
 
 Practical readers will at once recognise in the ‘ scum’ 
 which rises to the surface of the boiling water, and in the 
 milkiness that is more or less diffused throughout it, the 
 evidence of such lossof albumen. This loss indicates the 
 desirability of plunging the fish or flesh at once into 
 water hot enough to immediately coagulate the super- 
 ficial albumen, and thereby plug the pores through which 
 the inner albuminous juice otherwise exudes. 
 
 But this is not all. There are other juices besides 
 the albumen ; these are the most important of the /lav- 
 ouring constituents, and, zwzth the other constituents of 
 animal food, have great nutritive value ; so much so, that 
 animal food is quite tasteless and almost worthless with- 
 out them. I have laid especial emphasis on the above 
 qualification, lest the reader should be led into an error 
 originated by the bone-soup committee of the French 
 Academy, and propagated widely by Liebig—that of 
 regarding these juices as a concentrated nutriment when 
 taken alone. 
 
 They constitute collectively the extvactum carnts, 
 which, with the addition of more or less gelatine (the 
 less the better), is commonly sold as Liebig’s ‘ Extract 
 of Meat.’ It is prepared by simply mincing lean 
 
26 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE 
 
 meat, exposing it to the action of cold water, and then 
 evaporating down the solution of extract thus obtained. 
 
 I shall return to this on reaching the subjects of clear 
 soups and beef-tea, at present merely adding as evidence 
 of the importance of retaining these juices in cooked 
 meat, that the extracts of beef, mutton, and pork may 
 be distinguished by their specific flavours. Some Extract 
 of Kangaroo, sent to me many years ago from Australia 
 by the Ramornie Company, made a soup that was curi- 
 ously different in flavour from the other extract similarly 
 prepared by thesamecompany. Epicures pronounced it 
 very choice and ‘gamey.’' When these juices are removed 
 from the meat, mutton, beef, pork, &c., the remaining 
 solids are all alike,so far asthe palate alonecan distinguish. 
 
 Let us now apply these principles practically to the 
 case of a leg of mutton. First,in order to seal the pores, 
 the meat should be put into boiling water ; the water 
 should be kept boiling for five or ten minutes. A coat- 
 ing of. firmly-coagulated albumen will thus envelop the 
 joint. Now, instead of boiling or ‘simmering’ the water, 
 set the saucepan aside, where the water will retain a 
 temperature of about 180°, or 32° below the boiling- 
 point. Continue this about half as long again, or double 
 the usual time given in the cookery-books for boiling a 
 leg of mutton, and try the effect. It will be analogous 
 to that of the egg cooked on the same principles, and 
 appreciated accordingly. 
 
 The usual addition of salt to the water is very desir- 
 able. It has a threefold action: first, it directly acts on 
 the superficial albumen with coagulating effect ; second, 
 it slightly raises the boiling-point of the water; and 
 
 1 It was given to me in 1868. I have just found that some of it re- 
 mains unused (December 1884), and that it still retains its characteristic 
 flavour, 
 
ALBUMEN. 27 
 
 third, by increasing the density of the water, the ‘ exos- 
 mosis’ or oozing out of the juices is less active. These 
 actions are slight, but all co-operate in keeping in the 
 juices. 
 
 I should add that a leg of mutton for boiling should 
 be fresh, and not ‘hung’ as for roasting. The reasons 
 for this hereafter. 
 
 ‘Please, mum, the fish would break to pieces,’ would 
 be the probable reply of the unscientific cook, to whom 
 her mistress had suggested the desirability of cooking 
 fish in accordance with the principles expounded above. 
 Many kinds of fish would thus break if the popular 
 notions of ‘ boiling’ were carried out, and the fish sud- 
 denly immersed in water that was agitated by the act of 
 ebullition. But this difficulty vanishes when the true 
 theory of cookery is understood and practically applied 
 by cooking the fish from beginning to end without ever 
 boiling the water at all. 
 
 In the case of the leg of mutton, chosen as a previous 
 example, the plunging in boiling water and maintenance 
 of boiling-point for a few minutes was unobjectionable, 
 as the most effectual means of obtaining the firm coagu- 
 lation of a superficial layer of albumen ; but, in the case 
 of fragile fish, this advantage can only be obtained in a 
 minor degree by using water just below the boiling- 
 point ; the breaking of the fish by the agitation of the 
 boiling water does more than merely disfigure it when 
 served—it opens outlets to the juices, and thereby depre- 
 ciates the flavour, besides sacrificing some of the nutri- 
 tious albumen. 
 
 To demonstrate this experimentally, take two equal 
 slices from the same salmon, cook one according to Mrs, 
 Beeton and other authorities by putting it into cold 
 water, or pouring cold water over it, then heating up to 
 
28 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE ae 
 
 the boiling-point. Cook the other slice by putting it into 
 water nearly boiling (about 200° Fahr.), and keeping it 
 at about 180° to 200°, but never boiling at all. Then 
 dish up, examine, and taste. The second will be found 
 to have retained more of its proper salmon colour and 
 flavour ; the first will be paler and more like cod, or other 
 white fish, owing to the exosmosis or oozing out of its 
 characteristic juices. When two similar pieces of split 
 salmon are thus cooked, the difference between them is 
 still more remarkable. I should add that the practice of 
 splitting salmon for boiling, once so fashionable, is now 
 nearly obsolete, and justly so. 
 
 I was surprised, and at first considerably puzzled, at 
 what I saw of salmon-cooking in Norway. As this fish 
 is so abundant there (1d. per lb. would be regarded as a 
 high price in the Tellemark), I naturally supposed that 
 large experience, operating by natural selection, would 
 have evolved the best method of cooking it, but found 
 that, not only in the farmhouses of the interior, but at 
 such hotels as the ‘Victoria, in Christiania, the usual 
 
 cookery was effected by cutting the fish into small pieces — 
 
 and soddening it in water in such wise that it came to 
 table almost colourless, and with merely a faint sugges- 
 tion of what we prize as the rich flavour of salmon. A 
 few months’ experience and a little reflection solved the 
 problem. Salmon is so rich, and has so special a flavour, 
 that when daily eaten it soon palls on the palate. Every- 
 body has heard the old story of the clause in the inden- 
 tures of the Aberdeen apprentices, binding the masters 
 not to feed the boys. on salmon more frequently than 
 twice aweek. If thestory is not true it ought to be, for 
 full meals of salmon every day would, ere long, render 
 the special flavour of this otherwise delicious fish quite 
 sickening. 
 
 CW 
 
ALBUMEN. 29 
 
 By boiling out the rich oil of the salmon, the Norwe- 
 gian reduces it nearly to the condition of cod-fish, con- 
 cerning which I learned a curious fact from two old 
 Doggerbank fishermen, with whom I had a long sailing 
 cruise from the Golden Horn to the Thames, They 
 agreed in stating that cod-fish is like bread, that they 
 and all their mates lived upon it (and sea-biscuits) day 
 after day for months together, and never tired, while 
 richer fish ultimately became repulsive if eaten daily. 
 This statement was elicited by an immediate experience. 
 We were in the Mediterranean, where bonetta were 
 very abundant, and every morning and evening I amused 
 myself by spearing them from the martingale of the 
 schooner, and so successfully that all hands (or rather 
 mouths) were abundantly supplied with this delicious 
 dark-fleshed, full-blooded, and high-flavoured fish. I 
 began by making three meals a day on it, but at the 
 end of about a week was glad to return to the ordinary 
 ship’s fare of salt junk and chickens. 
 
 The following account of an experiment of Count 
 Rumford’s is very interesting and instructive. Hesays: 
 ‘I had long suspected that it could hardly be possible 
 that precisely the temperature of 212° (that of boiling 
 water) should be that which is best adapted for cooking 
 all sorts of food ; but it was the unexpected result of. an 
 experiment that I made with another view which made 
 me particularly attentive to this subject. Desirous of 
 finding out whether it would be possible to roast meat 
 on a machine that I had contrived for drying potatoes, 
 and fitted up in the kitchen of the House of Industry at 
 Munich, I put a shoulder of mutton into it, and after 
 attending to the experiment three hours, and finding 
 that it showed no signs of being done, I concluded that 
 the heat was not sufficiently intense, and despairing of 
 
30 THE CHEMISTRY: OF COOKERaa 
 
 success I went home, rather out of humour at my ill 
 success, and abandoned my shoulder of mutton to the 
 cookmaids. 
 
 ‘It being late in the evening and the cookmaids 
 thinking, perhaps, that the meat would be as safe in the 
 drying machine as anywhere else, left it there all night. 
 When they came in the morning to take it away, intend- 
 ing to cook it for their dinner, they were much surprised 
 at finding it already cooked, and not merely eatable, but 
 perfectly well done, and most singularly well tasted. 
 This appeared to them the more miraculous, as the fire 
 under the machine was quite gone out before they left 
 the kitchen in the evening to go to bed, and as they had 
 locked up the kitchen when they left it, and taken away 
 the key. 
 
 ‘This wonderful shoulder of mutton was immediately 
 brought to me in triumph, and though I was at no great 
 loss to account for what had happened, yet it certainly 
 was quite unexpected ; and when I tasted the meat I 
 was very much surprised indeed to find it very different, 
 both in taste and flavour, from any I had ever tasted. 
 It was perfectly tender ; but though it was so much done 
 it did not appear to be in the least sodden or insipid; 
 on the contrary, it was uncommonly savoury and high 
 flavoured.’ 
 
 What I have already explained concerning the co- 
 agulation of albumen will render this result fairly intel- 
 ligible. It will be still more so after what follows 
 concerning the effect of heat on the other constituents 
 of a shoulder of mutton. 
 
 The Norwegian cooking apparatus, to which I have 
 already alluded, and which is now commercially sup- 
 plied in England, does its work in a somewhat similar 
 manner. It consists of an inner tin pot with well-fitting 
 
ALBUMEN. 31 
 
 lid, which fits into a box, having a thick lining of ill- 
 conducting material—such as felt, wool, or sawdust (it 
 should be two or three inches thick bottom and sides). 
 A fowl, for example, is put into the tin, which is then 
 filled up with boiling water and covered with a close- 
 fitting cover lined like the box, and firmly strapped 
 down. This may be left for ten or twelve hours, when 
 the fowl will be found most delicately cooked. For 
 yachtsmen and ‘camping-out’ parties, &c., it is a very 
 luxurious apparatus. 
 
32 THE CHEMISTRY Of COCKE 
 
 CHAPTER a 
 
 GELATIN, -FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT: 
 
 GELATIN is a very important element of animal food; 
 it is, in fact, the main constituent of the animal tissues, 
 the walls of the cells of which animals are built up being 
 composed of gelatin. I will not here discuss the question 
 of whether Haller’s remark, ‘ Dimidium corporis humani 
 gluten est’ (‘half of the human body is gelatin ’), should 
 or should not now, as Lehmann says, ‘be modified to 
 the assertion that half of the solid parts of the animal 
 body are convertible, by boiling with water, into gelatin, 
 Lehmann and others give the name of ‘glutin’ to the 
 component of the animal tissue as it exists there, and 
 gelatin to it when acted upon by boiling water. Others 
 indicate this difference by naming the first ‘gelatin,’ and 
 the second ‘ gelatine.’ 
 
 The difference upon which these distinctions are 
 based is directly connected with my present subject, as 
 it is just the difference between the raw and the cooked 
 material, which, as we shall presently see, consists 
 mainly in solubility. — 
 
 Even the original or raw gelatin varies Ber lbs 
 
 in this respect. There is a decidedly practical difference 
 between the solubility of the cell-walls of a young 
 chicken and those of an old hen. The pleasant fiction 
 which describes all the pretty gelatine preparations of 
 the table as ‘ calf’s-foot jelly, is founded on the greater 
 
Bei, LIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT. 33 
 
 solubility of the juvenile hoof, as compared to that of 
 the adult ox or horse, or to the parings of hides about to 
 be used by the tanner. All these produce gelatin by 
 boiling, the calves’ feet with comparatively little boiling. 
 
 Besides these differences there are decided varieties, 
 or, I might say, species of gelatin, having slight differ- 
 ences of chemical composition and chemical relations. 
 There is Chondrin, or cartilage gelatin, which is ob- 
 tained by boiling the cartilages of the ribs, larynx, or 
 joints for eighteen or twenty hours in water. Then 
 there is Fzbrozn, obtained by boiling spiders’ webs and 
 the silk of silkworms or other caterpillars. These exist 
 as a liquid inside the animal, which solidifies on ex- 
 posure. The fibres of sponge contain this modification 
 of gelatin. 
 
 Another kind is C/ztzz, which constituted the animal 
 food of St. John the Baptist, when he fed upon locusts 
 and wild honey. It is the basis of the bodily structure 
 of insects; of the spiral tubes which permeate them 
 throughout, and are so wonderfully displayed when we 
 examine insect anatomy by aid of the microscope ; also 
 of their intestinal canal, their external skeleton, scales, 
 hairs, &c. It similarly forms the true skeleton and 
 bodily framework of crabs, lobsters, shrimps, and other 
 crustacea, bearing the same relation to their shells, 
 muscles, &c., that ordinary gelatin does to the bones 
 and softer tissues of the vertebrata ; it is ‘the bone of 
 their bones, and the flesh of their flesh.’ It is obtainable 
 by boiling these creatures down, but is more difficult of 
 solution: than the ordinary geiatin of beef, mutton, fish, 
 and poultry. To this difficulty of solution in the 
 stomach, the nightmare that follows lobster suppers is 
 probably attributable. 
 
 I once had an experience of the edibility of the shells 
 
 D 
 
34 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 of a crustacean. When travelling, I always continue the 
 pursuit of knowledge in restaurants by ordering any- 
 thing that appears on the bill of fare that I have never 
 heard of before, or cannot translate or pronounce. Ata 
 Neapolitan restaurant I found ‘Gambero di Mare’ on 
 the Carta, which I translated ‘ Leggy things of the sea, 
 or sea-creepers, and ordered them accordingly. They 
 proved to be shrimps fried in their shells, and were very 
 delicious—like whitebait, but richer. The chitin of the 
 shells was thus cooked to crispness, and no evil conse- 
 quences followed. If reduced to locusts, I should, if 
 possible, cook them in the same manner, and, as they 
 have similar chemical composition, they would doubtless 
 be equally good. 
 
 Should any epicurean reader desire to try this dish 
 (the shrimps, I mean), he should fry them as they come 
 from the sea, not as they are sold by the fishmonger, 
 these being already boiled in salt water; usually in sea 
 water by the shrimpers who catch them, the chitin being 
 indurated thereby. 
 
 The introduction of fried and tinned locusts as an 
 epicurean delicacy would be a boon to suffering humanity, 
 by supplying industrial compensation to the inhabitants 
 of districts subject to periodical plagues of locust in- 
 vasion. The idea of eating them appears repulsive at 
 first, so would that of eating such creepy-crawly things 
 as shrimps, if no adventurous hero had made the first 
 exemplary experiment. Chitin is chitin, whether elabo- 
 rated on the land or secreted in the sea. The vegetarian 
 locust and the cicala are free from the pungent essential 
 oils of the really unpleasant cockchafer. 
 
 That curious epicurean food, the edible birds’-nests, 
 which has been a subject of much controversy concern- 
 ing its composition, is commonly described as a delicate 
 
Gelatin FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT. 35 
 
 kind of gelatin. This does not appear to be quite 
 correct. It is certainly gelatinous in its mechanical 
 properties, but it more nearly resembles the material 
 of the slime and organic tissue of snails, a substance to 
 which the name of muczu has been given. Thus the 
 birds’-nest soup of the East and the snail soup of the 
 West are nearly allied, and that made from callipash 
 and callipee supplies an intermediate reptilian link. 
 
 The birds’-nests, when cleaned for cooking, are en- 
 tirely composed of the dried saliva of swallows, or rather 
 swiftlets (collocalia), and this saliva probably contains 
 some amount of digestive ferment or pepsin, which may 
 render it more digestible than the vulgar product from 
 shin of beef, and consequently more acceptable to feeble 
 epicures.. Those who have sufficient vital energy to 
 supply their own saliva will probably prefer the vulgar 
 concoction to the costly secretion. The bird saliva sells 
 for its own weight in silver, when freed from adhering 
 impurities.} 
 
 Those who are disposed to bow too implicitly to 
 mere authority in scientific matters will do well to study 
 the history and the treatment which gelatin has received 
 from some of the highest of these authorities. Our 
 grandmothers believed it to be highly nutritious, pre- 
 
 1 The following, from Francatelli’s Modern Cook, is amusing, if not 
 instructive: ‘Take two dozen garden snails, add to these the hind 
 quarters only of two dozen stream frogs, previously skinned; bruise them 
 together in a mortar, after which put them into a stewpan with a couple of 
 turnips chopped small, a little salt, a quarter of an ounce of hay-saffron, 
 and three pints of spring water. Stir these on the fire until the broth be- - 
 gins to boil, then skim it well and set it by the side of the fire to simmer 
 for half an hour; after which it should be strained, by pressure through a 
 tammy cloth, into a basin for use. This broth, from its soothing qualities, 
 often counteracts, successfully, the straining effects of a severe cough, and 
 alleviates, more than any other culinary preparation, the sufferings of the 
 consumptive,’ 
 
 D2 
 
36 THE CHEMISTRY OF COUR Ae 
 
 pared it in the form of jellies for invalids, and estimated 
 the nutritive value of their soups by the consistency of 
 the jelly which they formed on cooling, which thickness 
 is due to the gelatin they contain. Isinglass, which is 
 simply the swim-bladder of the sturgeon and similar 
 fishes cut into shreds, was especially esteemed, and sold 
 at high prices. This is the purest natural form of 
 gelatin. 
 
 Everybody believed that the callipash and callipee 
 of the alderman’s turtle soup contributed largely to his 
 proverbial girth, and those who could not afford to pay 
 for the gelatin of the reptile, made mock turtle from 
 the gelatinous tissues of calves’-heads and pigs’-feet. 
 
 About fifty or sixty years ago, the French Academy 
 of Sciences appointed a bone-soup commission, consist- 
 ing of some of the most eminent savants of the period. 
 They worked for above ten years upon the problem 
 submitted to them, that of determining whether or not 
 the soup made by boiling bones until only their mineral 
 matter remained solid, is, or is not, a nutritious food for 
 the inmates of hospitals, &c. In the voluminous report 
 which they ultimately submitted to the Academy, they 
 decided in the negative. 
 
 Baron Liebig became the popular exponent of their 
 conclusions, and vigorously denounced gelatin, as not 
 merely a worthless article of food, but as loading the 
 system with material that demands wasteful effort for 
 its removal. 
 
 The Academicians fed dogs on gelatin alone, found 
 that they speedily lost flesh, and ultimately died of 
 starvation. A multitude of similar experiments showed 
 that gelatin alone will not support animal life, and 
 hence the conclusion that pure gelatin is worthless as 
 an article of food, and that ordinary soups containing 
 
GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND. THE JUICES OF MEAT. 37 
 
 gelatin owed their nutritive value to their other con- 
 stituents. According to the above-named report, and 
 the statements of Liebig, the following, which I find on 
 a wrapper of Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat,’ is justifiable: 
 ‘This Extract of Meat differs essentially from the 
 gelatinous product obtained from tendons and muscular 
 fibre, inasmuch as it contains 80 per cent. of nutritive 
 matter, while the other contains 4 or 5 per cent.’ Here 
 the 4 or 5 per cent. allowed to exist in the ‘ gelatinous 
 product’ (ze. ordinary kitchen stock or glaze), is attri- 
 buted to the constituents it contains over and above the 
 pure gelatin. 
 
 The following, from a text-book largely used by 
 medical students,! shows the estimation in which gelatin 
 was held at that date: ‘But there is another azotised 
 compound, Gelatin, that is furnished by animals, to 
 which nothing analogous exists in Plants; and this is 
 commonly reputed to possess highly nutritious pro- 
 perties. It may be confidently affirmed, however, as 
 a result of experiments made upon a large scale, that 
 Gelatin is incapable of being converted into Albumen 
 in the animal body, so that it cannot be applied to the 
 nutrition of the albuminous tissues. And, although it 
 might @ priorz be thought not unlikely that Gelatin, 
 taken in as food, should be applied to the nutrition of 
 the gelatinous tissues, yet neither observation nor ex- 
 periment bears out such a probability.’ Further on, 
 Dr. Carpenter says: ‘The use of gelatin as food would 
 seem to be limited to its power of furnishing a certain 
 amount of combustive material that may assist in main- 
 taining the heat of the body.’ 
 
 Subsequent experiments, however, have refuted these 
 conclusions. I must not be tempted to describe them 
 
 1 Carpenter’s Manual of Physiology, 3rd edition, 1846, p. 267. 
 
38 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 in detail, but only to state the general results, which are, 
 that while animals fed on gelatin soup, formed into a 
 soft paste with bread, lost flesh and strength rapidly, 
 they recovered their original weight when to this same 
 food only a very small quantity of the sapid and odorous 
 principles of meat were added. Thus, in the experi- 
 ments of MM. Edwards and Balzac, a young dog that 
 had ceased growing, and had lost one-fifth of its original 
 weight when fed on bread and gelatin for thirty days, 
 was next supplied with the same food, but to which was 
 added, twice a day, only two tablespoonfuls of soup 
 made from horseflesh. There was an increase of weight 
 on the first day, and, ‘in twenty-three days the dog had 
 gained considerably more than its original weight, and 
 was in the enjoyment of vigorous health and strength.’ - 
 
 All this difference was due to the savoury consti- 
 tuents of the four tablespoonfuls of meat soup, which 
 soup contained the juices of the flesh, to which, as 
 already stated, its flavour is due. 
 
 The inferences drawn by M. Edwards from the 
 whole of the experiments are the following: ‘1. That 
 gelatin alone is insufficient for alimentation. 2. That, 
 although insufficient, it is not unwholesome. 3. That 
 gelatin contributes to alimentation, and is sufficient 
 to sustain it when it is mixed with a due proportion 
 of other products which would themselves prove in- 
 sufficient if given alone. 4. That gelatin extracted 
 from bones, being identical with that extracted from 
 other parts—and bones being richer in gelatin than _ 
 other tissues, and able to afford two-thirds of their 
 weight of it—there is an incontestable advantage in 
 making them serve for nutrition in the form of soup, 
 jellies, paste, &c., always, however, taking care to provide 
 a proper admixture of the other principles in which the 
 
GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT. 39 
 
 gelatin-soup is defective. 5. That to render gelatin- 
 soup equal in nutritive and digestible qualities to that 
 prepared from meat alone, it is sufficient’ fo mzx one- 
 fourth of meat-soup with three-fourths of gelatin-soup ; 
 and that, in fact, no difference is perceptible between 
 soup thus prepared and that made solely from meat. 6. 
 That in preparing soup in this way, the great advan- 
 tage remains, that while the soup itself is equally 
 nourishing with meat-soup, three-fourths of the meat 
 which would be requisite for the latter by the common 
 process of making soup are saved and made useful in 
 another way——-as by roasting, &c. 7. That jellies ought 
 always to be associated with some other principles to 
 render them both nutritive and digestible.’ ! 
 
 The reader may make a very simple experiment on 
 himself by preparing first a pure gelatin-soup from 
 isinglass, or the prepared gelatin commonly sold, and 
 trying to make a meal of this with bread alone. Its 
 insipidity will be evident with the first spoonful. If he 
 perseveres, it will become not merely insipid, but posi- 
 tively repulsive; and, should he struggle through one 
 meal and then another, without any other food between, 
 he will find it, in the course of time (varying with con- 
 stitution and previous alimentation), positively nauseous. 
 
 Let him now add to it some of Liebig’s ‘Extract of 
 Meat, and he will at once perceive the difference. Here 
 the natural appetite foreshadows the result of continuing 
 the experiment, and points the way to correcting the 
 errors of the Academicians and Baron Liebig. The 
 jellies that we take at evening parties, or the jujubes 
 used as sweetmeats, are flavoured with something posi- 
 tive. I have tasted ‘Blue-Ribbon’ jellies that were 
 wretchedly insipid. This was not merely owing to the 
 
 1 Londe, Mouveaux Eléments d’ Hygiene, 2nd edition, vol. ii. p. 73. 
 
ie THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 absence of alcohol, of which very little can remain in 
 such preparations, but rather to the absence of the 
 flavouring ingredients of the wine. 
 
 I venture to suggest the further, deliberate, and 
 scientific extension of this principle, by adding to bone- 
 soup, or other form of insipid gelatin, the potash, salts, 
 phosphates, &c., which are found in the juices of meat 
 and vegetables. They may either be prepared in the 
 manufacturing laboratory, like Parrish’s ‘Chemical Food,’ 
 or ‘Syrup of phosphates, or extracted from fruits, as 
 commercial limejuice is extracted. I recommend those 
 who are interested to manufacture and offer for sale a 
 good preparation of limejuice gelatin. 
 
 It would seem that gelatin alone, although contain- 
 ing the elements required for nutrition, requires some- 
 thing more to render it digestible. We shall probably 
 be not far from the truth if we picture it to the mind as 
 something too smooth, too neutral, too inert, to set the 
 digestive organs at work, and that it therefore requires 
 the addition of a decidedly sapid something that shall 
 make these organs act. I believe that the proper function 
 of the palate is to determine our selection of such ma- 
 terials ; that its activity is in direct sympathy with that 
 of all the digestive organs; and that if we carefully 
 avoid the vitiation of our natural appetites, we have in 
 our mouths, and the nervous apparatus connected there- 
 with, a laboratory that is capable of supplying us with 
 information concerning some of the chemical relations 
 of food which is beyond the grasp of the analytical 
 machinery of the ablest of our scientific chemists. 
 
 What is the chemistry of the cookery of gelatin? 
 What are the chemical changes effected by cookery 
 upon gelatin? Or, otherwise stated, what is the chemical 
 difference or differences between cooked and raw gelatin ? 
 
GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT. 4i 
 
 I find no satisfactory answer to these questions in any 
 of our text-books, and therefore will do what I can 
 towards supplying my own solution of the problem. 
 
 In the first place, it should be understood that raw 
 gelatin, or animal membrane as it exists in its organised 
 condition, is not soluble in cold water, and not immedi- 
 ately in hot water. Genuine isinglass is the membrane 
 of the swim-bladder of the sturgeon (that of other fishes 
 is said to be sometimes substituted). In its unprepared 
 form it is not easily dissolved, but if soaked in water, 
 especially in warm water, for some time, it swells. The 
 same with other forms of membrane. This swelling I 
 regard as the first stage of the cookery. On examina- 
 tion, I find that it is not only increased in bulk but also 
 in weight, and that the increase of weight is due to some 
 water that it has taken into itself. Here, then, we have 
 crude gelatin plus water, or hydrated gelatin. Proceed- 
 ing further, by boiling this until it all-dissolves, and then 
 allowing it to harden by very slow evaporation, I find 
 that it still contains some of its acquired water, and that 
 I cannot drive away this newly-acquired water without 
 destroying some of its characteristic properties—its 
 solubility and gluey character. Before returning to its 
 original weight as crude isinglass, it becomes somewhat 
 carbonised. 
 
 Hence, I infer that the cookery of gelatin consists 
 in converting the original membrane more or less com- 
 pletely into a hydrate of its former self. According to 
 this, the ‘ prepared gelatin’ sold in the shops is hydrated 
 gelatin, completely hydrated, seeing that it is com- 
 pletely and readily soluble. 
 
 The membranes of our ordinary cooked meat are, if 
 I am right, partially hydrated, in varying degrees, and 
 thereby prepared for solution in the course of digestion. 
 
42 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 The varying degrees are illustrated by the differences in 
 a knuckle of veal or a calf’s head, according to the 
 length of time during which it has been stewed, ze. 
 subjected to the hydrating process. 
 
 The second stage of the cookery of gelatin is the 
 solution of this hydrate, as in soups, &c. 
 
 Carpenters’ glue is crude hydrated gelatin, made by 
 stewing or hydrating hoofs of horses, cattle, &c., or the 
 waste cuttings of hides. The carpenter knows that if he 
 allows his solution of glue to boil (such a solution boils 
 at a higher temperature than pure water), it loses its 
 tenacity, becomes cindery, or, as I should say, dehy- 
 drated or dissociated, without returning to the original 
 condition of the organised membranes. 
 
 Even a frequent reheating at the glue-pot tempera- 
 ture ‘weakens’ the glue, and therefore he prefers fresh 
 glue, and puts but a little at a time into his glue-pot. 
 
 The applications of this theory will appear as I 
 proceed. 
 
 A sheep or an ox, a fowl or a rabbit, is made up, like 
 ourselves, of organic structures and blood, the organs 
 continually wasting as they work, and being renewed by 
 the blood ; or, otherwise described, the component mole- 
 cules of these organs are continually dying of old age as 
 their work is done, and replaced by new-born successors 
 generated by the blood. 
 
 These molecules are, for the most part, cellular, each 
 cell living a little life of its own, generated with a definite 
 individuality, doing its own life-work, then shrivelling in 
 decay, dying in the midst of vital surroundings, suffering 
 cremation, and thereby contributing to the animal heat 
 necessary for the life of its successors, and even giving 
 up a portion of its substance to supply them with 
 absorption-food. The cell walls are mainly composed of 
 
GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT. 43 
 
 gelatin, or the substance which produces gelatin, as 
 already explained, while the contents of the cell are 
 albuminous matter or fat, or the special constituents of 
 the particular organ it composes. A description of all 
 these constituents would carry me too far into details. 
 I must, therefore, only refer to those which constitute 
 the bulk of animal food, and which are altered in the 
 process of cooking. 
 
 In the lean of meat, z.e. the muscles of the animal, 
 we have the albuminous juices already described, the 
 gelatinous membranes, sheaths, and walls of the muscle 
 fibre, and the fibre itself. This is composed of muscle- 
 fibrin, or syntonin, as Lehmann has named it. Living 
 blood consists of a complex liquid, in which are sus- 
 pended a multitude of minute cells, some red, others 
 colourless. When the blood is removed and dies, it 
 clots or partially solidifies, and is found to contain a 
 network of extremely fine fibre, to which the name of 
 fibrin is applied. A similar change takes place in the 
 substance of the muscle after death. It stiffens, and 
 this stiffening, or rzgor mortis, is effected by the forma- 
 tion of a clot analogous to the coagulation of the blood. 
 
 The chief difference between blood-fibrin and muscle- 
 fibrin or syntonin is, that the latter is readily soluble in 
 water, to which only =;45 of hydrochloric acid has been 
 added, while in sucha solution blood-fibrin only becomes 
 swollen. If the gastric juice contains a little free hydro- 
 chloric acid, this difference is important in reference 
 to food. I should, however, add that the existence of 
 such free acid in the human gastric juice is disputed, 
 especially by Gruenewaldt and Schroeder. 
 
 The conflict of able chemists on this point and 
 others concerning the composition of this fluid leads me 
 to suppose that the secretions of the human stomach 
 
Ad THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 vary with the food habitually taken; that flesh-eaters 
 acquire a gastric juice similar to that of carnivorous 
 animals, while vegetable feeders are supplied with di- 
 gestive solvents more suitable to their food. 
 
 This idea is supported by the testimony of rigid 
 vegetarians. They tell me that at first the pure vege- 
 tarian diet did not appear to satisfy them, but after 
 a while it became as sustaining as their former food. 
 This is explained if, in consequence of the modification 
 of the gastric and other digestive juices, the vegetarian 
 food became more completely digested after vegetarian 
 habits became established. 
 
 The properties of fibrin, so far as cookery is con- 
 cerned, place it between albumen and gelatin; it is 
 coagulable like albumen, and soluble like gelatin, but 
 in a minor degree. Like gelatin, it is tasteless and 
 non-nutritious alone. This has been proved by feeding 
 animals on lean meat, which has been cut up and sub- 
 jected to the action of cold water, which dissolves out 
 the albumen and other juices of the flesh, and leaves 
 only the muscular fibre and its envelopes. The experi- 
 ment has been made in laboratories, and also on a larger 
 scale in Australia, where the lean beef from which the 
 ‘Extract of Meat’ had been taken out by cold water was 
 given to dogs, pigs, and other animals ; but, after taking 
 a few mouthfuls, they all rejected it, and suffered starva- 
 tion when it was forced upon them without other food. 
 
 The same is the case with the spontaneously coagu- 
 lated fibrin of the blood ; it is, when washed, a yellowish 
 opaque fibrous mass, without smell or taste, insoluble in 
 cold water, alcohol, or ether, but imperfectly soluble if 
 digested tor a considerable time in hot water. 
 
 The following is the chemical composition of these 
 three constituents of lean meat, according to Mulder: 
 
GELATIN, FIBRIN, AND THE JUICES OF MEAT. 45 
 
 — Albumen Gelatine Fibrin 
 
 Carbon . : ; : 53°5 50°40 52°7 
 Hydrogen. ; : Ve) 6°64 6'9 
 Nitrogen : ; 15°5 18°34 15°4 
 Oxygen . : : : 22°0 24°62 23°5 
 Sulphur . : : : 1°6 — ae 
 Phosphorus . ; : O°4 — 0°3 
 | 100°O | 100°00 100°O 
 
 There are two other constituents of lean meat which 
 are very different from either of these, viz. Kreatine and 
 Kreatinine, otherwise spelled ‘creatine’ and ‘creatinine.’ 
 They exist in the juice of the flesh, and are freely 
 soluble in cold or hot water, from which solution they 
 may be crystallised by evaporating the solvent, just as 
 we may crystallise common salt, alum, &c. They thus 
 have a resemblance to mineral substances, and still more 
 so to some of the active constituents of plants, such as 
 the alkaloids ¢hezne and caffezne, upon which depend the 
 stimulating or ‘refreshing’ properties of tea and coffee. 
 Like these, they are highly nitrogenous, and many 
 theories have been based upon this, both as regards 
 their exceptionally nutritious properties and their func- 
 tions in the living muscle. One of these theories is that 
 they are the dead matter of muscle, the first and second 
 products of the combustion which accompanies muscular 
 work, urea being the final product. According to this 
 their relation to the muscle is exactly the opposite of 
 that of the albuminous juice, this being probably the 
 material from which the muscle is built up or renewed. 
 The following is their composition, according to Liebig’s 
 analyses, and does not support this hypothesis : 
 
46 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 _ ; Kreatine Kreatinine 
 
 Carbon ; : 36°64 42°48 
 
 Hydrogen . : 6°87 6°19 
 
 Nitrogen . ; d 32°06 37°17 
 
 Oxygen tis. : : 24°43 14°16 
 
 100‘00 100°00 
 
 They appear to undergo no change in cooking unless 
 excessively heated ; may be used uncooked, as in cold- 
 drawn extract of meat. 
 
 The juices of lean flesh also contain a little lactic 
 acid—the acid of milk—but this does not appear to be 
 an absolutely essential constituent. Besides these there 
 
 are mineral salts of considerable nutritive importance, - 
 
 though small in quantity. These, with the kreatine and 
 kreatinine, are the chief constituents of beef-tea properly 
 so-called, and will be further treated when I come to that 
 preparation. At present it is sufficient to keep in view 
 the fact that these juices are essential to complete the 
 nutritive value of animal food, 
 
47 
 
 CHAriT ER V. 
 ROASTING AND GRILLING. 
 
 I MAY now venture to state my own view of a somewhat 
 obscure subject—viz. the difference between the roast- 
 ing or grilling of meat and the stewing of meat. It 
 appears to me that, as regards the nature of the opera- 
 tion, it consists simply in the difference between the 
 cooking media; that a grilled steak or chop, or a 
 roasted joint is meat that has been stewed in its own 
 juices instead of stewed in water; that in both cases the 
 changes taking place in the so/zd parts of the meat are 
 the same in kind, provided always that the roasting or 
 grilling is properly performed. The albumen is coagu- 
 lated in all cases, and the gelatinous and fibrous tissues 
 are softened by being heated in a liquid solvent. I shall 
 presently apply this definition in distinguishing between 
 good and bad cookery. 
 
 In the roasted or grilled meat the juices are retained 
 in the meat (with the exception of those which escape 
 as gravy on the dish), while in stewing the juices go 
 more or less completely into the water, and the loosen- 
 ing of the fibres and solution of the gelatin and fibrin 
 may be carried further, inasmuch as a larger quantity of 
 solvent is used. 
 
 Roasting and grilling may be regarded as our 
 national methods of flesh cookery, and stewing in water 
 that of our continental neighbours. The difference 
 
48 THE. CHEMISTRY “OF COCK#za. 
 
 between the flavour of English roast beef and French 
 bouilli or Italian manzo is due to the retention or the 
 removal of the saline and highly-flavoured soluble mate- 
 rials. (Concentrated kreatine and kreatinine are pun- 
 gently sapid.) The Frenchman takes them out of his 
 bourlli, or boiled meat, and transfers them to his Jdouz//on, 
 or soup, which, with him, is an essential element of a 
 meal. If he ate his meat without soup, he would be 
 like the dogs fed on gelatin by the bone-soup com- 
 missioners. To the Englishman, with his roast or 
 srilled meat, soup is merely a luxury, not an absolutely 
 necessary element of a complete dietary. 
 
 What we call boiled meat, as a boiled leg of mutton 
 or round of beef, is an intermediate preparation. The 
 heat is here communicated by water, and the juices 
 partially retained. | 
 
 Not only do we, in roasting and grilling our meat, 
 keep the juices within it, but we concentrate them con- 
 siderably by evaporating away some of the water by which 
 they are naturally diluted. This is my explanation of 
 the rationale of the chief difference between boiled meat 
 and roasted or grilled meat. A further difference—that 
 due to browning—is discussed in the chapter on Frying. 
 Those accustomed to such concentration of flavour 
 regard the milder results of boiling as insipid, for, by 
 this process and by stewing, where much water is used, 
 the juices are further diluted instead of being concen- 
 trated. 
 
 It is a fairly debatable question whether the sim- 
 plicity of taste which finds satisfaction in the milder diet 
 is better and more desirable than the appetite for strong 
 meat. The difference has some analogy to that between 
 the thirst for light wine and that for stiff grog. 
 
 The application of the principles above expounded 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. 49 
 
 to the processes of grilling and roasting is simple 
 enough. As the meat is to be stewed in its own juices, 
 it is evident that these juices must be retained as com- 
 pletely as possible, and that in order to succeed in this, 
 we have to struggle with the evaporating energy of the 
 ‘dry heat’ which effects the cookery, and may not only 
 concentrate the juices by driving off some of their solvent 
 water, but may volatilise or decompose the flavouring 
 principles themselves. We must always remember that 
 these organic compounds are very unstable, most of 
 them being decomposed when raised to a temperature 
 above the boiling-point of water. ‘The repulsive energy 
 of heat drives apart or ‘ dissociates’ their loosely-com- 
 bined elements, and when thus wholly or partially dis- 
 sociated, all the characteristic properties of the original 
 compound vanish, and others take their place. 
 
 It should be clearly understood that the so-called 
 ‘dry heat’ may be communicated by convection or by 
 radiation, or both. When water is the heating medium, 
 there is convection only—z.e. heating by actual contact 
 with the heated body. In roasting and grilling there is 
 also some convection-heating due to the hot air which 
 actually touches the meat; but this is a very small 
 element of efficiency, the work being chiefly done, when 
 well done, by the heat which is radiated from the fire 
 directly to the surface of the meat, and which, in the 
 case of roasting in front of a fire, pdsses through the 
 intervening air with very little heating effect thereon. 
 
 I am not perpetrating any far-fetched pedantry in 
 pointing out this difference, as will be understood at 
 once by supposing a beefsteak to be cooked by sus- 
 pending it in a chamber filled with hot dry air. Such 
 air is actively thirsting for the vapour of water, and 
 will take into itself, from every humid substance it 
 
 E 
 
50 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 touches, a quantity proportionate to its temperature. 
 The steak receiving its heat by convection—z.e. the heat 
 conveyed by such hot air, and communicated by contact 
 —would be desiccated, but not cooked. 
 
 This distinction is so important, that I will illustrate 
 it still further, my chief: justification for such insistence 
 being that even Rumford himself evidently failed to 
 understand it, and it has been generally misunderstood 
 or neglected. 
 
 Let us suppose the hot air used for convection cook- 
 ing to be at the cooking-point, as the hot water in stewing 
 should be, what will follow its application to the meat? 
 Evaporation of the water in the juices, and with that 
 evaporation a lowering of temperature at the surface of 
 the meat, keeping it below the cooking-point. If the air 
 be heated above this, the evaporation will go on with 
 proportionate rapidity. As nearly 1,000 degrees of heat 
 are lost as temperature, and converted into expansive 
 force whenever and wherever evaporation of water 
 occurs, the film of hot, dry air touching the meat is 
 cooled by this evaporation, and sinks immediately, to be 
 replaced by a rising film of lighter, hotter, and drier air. 
 This drinks in more vapour, cools and sinks, to give 
 place to another, and so on till the inner juices gradually 
 ooze between the fibres to the porous surface, where 
 they are carried away by the hot, dry air, and a hard, 
 leathery, unmasticable mass of desiccated gelatin, albu- 
 men, fibrin, &c., is produced. 
 
 Now, let us suppose a similar beefsteak to be cooked 
 by radiant heat, with the least possible co-operation of 
 convection. 
 
 To effect this, our source of heat must be a good 
 radiator. Glowing solids are better radiators than ordi- 
 nary flames ; therefore coke, or charcoal, or ordinary coal, 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. 5i 
 
 after its bituminous matter has done its flaming, should 
 be used, and the steak or chop may be placed in front 
 or above a surface of such glowing carbon. In ordinary 
 domestic practice it is placed on a gridiron above the 
 coal, and therefore I will consider this case first. 
 
 The object to be attained is to raise the juices of the 
 meat throughout to about the temperature of 180° Fahr. 
 as quickly as possible, in order that the cookery may be 
 completed before the water of these juices shall have 
 had time to evaporate excessively ; therefore the meat 
 should be placed as near to the surface of the glowing 
 carbon as possible. But the practical housewife will 
 say that, if placed within two or three inches, some of 
 the fat will be melted and burn, and then the steak will 
 be smoked. 
 
 Now, here we require a little more chemistry. There 
 is smoking and smoking; smoking that produces a 
 detestable flavour, and smoking that does no mischief 
 at all beyond appearances. The flame of an ordinary 
 coal fire is due to the distillation and combustion of 
 tarry vapours. If such a flame strikes a comparatively 
 cool surface like that of the meat, it will condense and 
 deposit thereon a film of crude coal tar and coal naphtha, 
 most nauseous and rather mischievous; but if the flame 
 be that which is caused by the combustion of its own 
 fat, the deposit on a mutton-chop will be a little mutton 
 juice, on a beefsteak a little beef juice, more or less 
 blackened by mutton-carbon or beef-carbon. But these 
 have no other flavour than that of cooked mutton 
 and cooked beef; therefore they are perfectly innocent, 
 in spite of their black, guilty appearances. 
 
 If any of my readers are sceptical, let them appeal 
 to experiment by putting a mutton-chop to the torture, 
 
 and taking its own confession. To do this, divide the 
 K2 
 
52 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 chop in equal halves, then hold one half over a flaming 
 coal, immersing it in the flame, and thus cook it. Now 
 cut a bit of fat off the other, throw this fat on a surface 
 of clear, glowing, flameless coal or coke, and, when a — 
 good blaze is thus. obtained, immerse the half chop 
 recklessly and unmercifully into zhzs flame; there let 
 it splutter and fizz, let it drop more fat and make more 
 flame, but hold it there nevertheless for a few minutes, 
 and then taste the result. 
 
 In spite of its blackness, it will be (if just warmed 
 through to the above-named cooking temperature) a 
 deliciously-cooked, juicy, nutritious, digestible morsel, 
 apparently raw, but actually more completely cooked 
 than if it had been held twice as long, at double the 
 distance, from the surface of the fire. | 
 
 For further instruction, make a third experiment by 
 imitating the cautious unscientific cook, who, ignorant of 
 the difference between the condensation products of coal 
 and those from beef and mutton fat, carefully raises 
 the gridiron directly the flame from the dropping fat 
 threatens the object of her solicitude. The result will 
 be an ordinary domestic chop or steak. I apply this 
 adjective, because in this particular effort of cookery, 
 the grilling of chops and steaks, domestic cookery is 
 commonly at fault. The majority of our City men find 
 that while the joint cooked at home is better than that 
 they usually get at restaurants and hotels, the chops 
 and steaks are inferior. 
 
 I believe that this inferiority is due, in the first place, 
 to the want of understanding of the difference between 
 coal-flame and fat-flame ; and in the second, to the ad- 
 vantage afforded to the ‘ grill-room ’ cook by his specially- 
 constructed fire, with a large surface of glowing coke 
 surmounted by a sloping grill, whereon he can expose 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. 53 
 
 his chops and steaks to a maximum of radiant heat 
 with a minimum of convection heat; the hot air which 
 passes in a current over the coke surface having 
 such small depth that it barely touches the bars of the 
 grill. (This may be seen by watching the course of 
 flame produced by the droppings of the fat.) The same 
 obliquity of draught prevents the serious blacking of 
 the meat, which, although harmless, is unsightly and 
 calculated to awaken prejudice. 
 
 The high temperature rapidly imparted by radiation 
 to the surface of the meat forms a thin superficial crust 
 of hardened and semi-carbonised albumen and fibre, 
 that resists the outrush of vapour, and produces within 
 a certain degree of high pressure, which probably acts 
 in loosening the fibres. A well-grilled chop or steak is 
 ‘puffed’ out—made thicker in the middle ; an ill-cooked, 
 desiccated specimen is shrivelled, collapsed, and thinned 
 by the slow departure or dissociation of its juices. 
 
 Happy little couples, living in little houses with only 
 one little servant—or, happier still, with no servant at 
 all—complain of their little joints of meat, which, when 
 roasted, are so dry, as compared with the big succulent | 
 joints of larger households. A little reflection on the 
 principles above applied to the grilling of steaks and 
 chops will explain the source of this little difficulty, and 
 show how it may be overcome. 
 
 I will here venture upon a little of the mathematics 
 of cookery, as well as its chemistry. While the weight 
 or quantity of material in a joint increases with the cube 
 of its through-measured dimensions, its surface only in- 
 creases with their square—or, otherwise stated, we do 
 not nearly double or treble the surface of a joint of 
 given form when we double or treble its weight ; and 
 vice versa, the less the weight, the greater the surface 
 
54 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 in proportion to the weight. This is obvious enough 
 when we consider that we cannot cut a single lump of 
 anything into halves without exposing or creating two 
 fresh surfaces where no surfaces were exposed before. 
 As the evaporation of the juices is, under given condi- 
 
 tions, proportionate to the surface exposed, is is evident - 
 
 that this process of converting the inside middle into 
 two outside surfaces must increase the amount of evapo- 
 ration that occurs in roasting. 
 
 What, then, is the remedy for this? It is twofold. 
 First, to seal up the pores of these additional surfaces as 
 completely as possible; and secondly, to diminish to the 
 utmost the time of exposure to the dry air. Logically 
 following up these principles, I arrive at a practical 
 formula which will probably induce certain orthodox 
 cooks to denounce me as a culinary paradoxer. It is 
 this: That the smaller the joint to be roasted, the higher 
 the temperature to which tts surface should be exposed. 
 The roasting of a small-joint. should, in fact, be con- 
 ducted in nearly the same manner as the grilling of a 
 _ chop or steak described in my last. The surface should 
 be crusted or browned—burned, if you please—as 
 speedily as possible, in such wise that the juices within 
 shall be held there under high pressure, and only allowed 
 to escape by burst and splutters, rather than by steady 
 evaporation. 
 
 The best way of doing this is a problem to be solved 
 by the practical cook. I only expound the principles, 
 and timidly suggest the mode of applying them. Ina 
 metallurgical laboratory, where I am most at home, I 
 could roast a small joint beautifully by suspending it 
 inside a large red-hot steel-smelter’s crucible, or, better 
 still, in an apparatus called a ‘ muffle, which is a fireclay 
 tunnel open in front, and so arranged in a suitable fur- 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. se 
 
 nace as to be easily made red-hot all round. A small 
 joint placed on a dripping-pan and run into this would 
 be equally heated by all-round converging radiation, and 
 exquisitely roasted in the course of ten to thirty minutes, 
 according to its size. Some such an apparatus has yet 
 to be invented in order that we may learn the flavour 
 and tenderness of a perfectly-roasted small joint of beef 
 or mutton. 
 
 For roasting large masses of meat, a different pro- 
 ceeding is necessary. Here we have to contend, not 
 with excessive surface in proportion to bulk—as in the 
 grilling of chops and steaks, and the roasting of small 
 joints—but with the contrary, viz. excessive bulk in 
 proportion to surface. If a baron of beef were to be 
 treated according to my prescription for a steak, or for 
 a single small wing rib, or other joint of three to five 
 pounds weight, it would be charred on its surface long 
 before the heat could reach its centre. 
 
 A considerable time is here inevitably demanded. 
 Of course, the higher the initial outside temperature, 
 the more rapidly the heat will penetrate ; but we cannot 
 apply this law to a lump of meat as we may to a mass 
 of iron. We may go on heating the outside of the iron 
 to redness, but not so the meat. So long as the surface 
 of the meat remains moist, we cannot raise it to a higher 
 temperature than the boiling-point of the liquid that 
 moistens it. Above this, charring commences. A little 
 of such charring, such as occurs to the steak or small 
 joint during the short period of its exposure to the great 
 heat, does no harm ; it simply ‘ browns’ the surface ; but 
 if this were continued during the roasting of a large 
 joint, a crust of positively black charcoal would be 
 formed, with ruinous waste and general detriment. 
 
 As Rumford proved long ago, liquids are very bad 
 
56 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 conductors, and when their circulation is prevented by 
 confinement between fibres, as in the meat, the rate at 
 which heat will travel through the humid mass is very 
 slow indeed. As few of my readers are likely to fully 
 estimate the magnitude of this difficulty, I will state a 
 fact that came under my own observation, and at the 
 time surprised me. 
 
 About five-and-twenty years ago I was visiting a 
 friend at Warwick during the ‘ mop,’ or ‘statute fair ’— 
 the annual slave market of the county. In accordance 
 with the old custom, an ox was roasted whole in 
 the open public market-place. The spitting of the 
 carcass and starting the cookery was a disgusting sight. 
 We are accustomed to see the neatly-cut joints ordi- 
 narily brought to the kitchen; but the handling and 
 impaling of the whole body of a huge beast by half a 
 dozen rough men, while its stiffened limbs were stretch- 
 ing out from its trunk, presented the carnivorous character 
 of our ordinary feeding very grossly indeed. 
 
 Nevertheless I watched the process, partook of some 
 of its result, and found it good. The fire was lighted 
 before midnight, the rotation of the beast on the hori- 
 zontal spit began shortly after, and continued until the 
 following midday, all this time being necessary for the 
 raising of the inner parts of the flesh to the cooking 
 temperature of about 180° Fahr. 
 
 Compare this with the grilling of a steak, which, 
 when well done, is done in a few minutes, or the roast- 
 ing of the small joint as above within thirty minutes, 
 and you will see that I am justified in dwelling on the 
 ereat differences of the two processes, and the necessity 
 of very varied proceeding to meet these different con- 
 ditions. 
 
 The difference of time is so great that the smaller 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. 57 
 
 relative surface is insufficient to compensate for the 
 evaporation that must occur if the grilling principle, 
 or the pure and simple action of radiant heat, were only 
 made available, as in the above ideal roasting of the 
 small joint. 
 
 What, then, is added to this ? How is the desiccating 
 difficulty overcome in the large-scale roasting? Simply 
 by dasting. 
 
 All night long and all the next morning men were 
 continuously at work pouring melted fat over the surface 
 of the slowly-rotating carcass of the Warwick ox, skil- 
 fully directing a ladleful to any part that indicated undue 
 dryness. 
 
 By this device the meat is more or less completely 
 enveloped in a varnish of hot melted fat, which assists 
 in the communication of heat, while it checks the 
 evaporation of the juices. In such roasting the heat 
 is partially communicated by convection through the 
 medium of a fat-bath, as in stewing it is all supplied 
 by a water-bath. 
 
 I have made some experiments wherein this prin- 
 ciple is fully carried out. Ina suitably-sized saucepan 
 I melted a sufficient quantity of mutton-dripping to 
 form a bath, wherein a small joint of mutton could be 
 completely immersed. The fat was then raised to a 
 high temperature, 350° (as shown by Davis’ ¢ryometer, 
 presently to be described). Then I immersed the joint 
 in this, keeping up the high temperature for a few 
 minutes. Afterwards I allowed it to fall below 200°, and 
 thus cooked the joint. It was good and juicy, though a 
 little of the gravy had escaped and was found in the 
 fat after cooling. The experiment was repeated with 
 variations of temperature; the best result obtained 
 when it was about 4oo° at the beginning, and kept 
 
58 THE CHEMISTRY (OF COCKE Tas 
 
 up to above 200° afterwards. I used loins and half-legs 
 of mutton, exposing considerable surface. | 
 
 I find that Sir Henry Thompson, in a lecture de- 
 livered at the Fisheries Exhibition, and now reprinted, 
 has invaded my subject, and has done this so well that 
 I shall retaliate by annexing his suggestion, which is 
 that fish should be voasted. He says that this mode of 
 cooking fish should be general, since it is applicable to 
 all varieties. I fully agree with him, but go a little 
 further in the same direction by including, not only 
 roasting ina Dutch or American oven Jefore the fire, but 
 also in the side-ovens of kitcheners and in gas-ovens, 
 which, when used as I have explained, are roasters—zz. 
 they cook by radiation, without any of the drying anti- 
 cipated by Sir Henry. 
 
 The practical housewife will probably say this is not 
 new, seeing that people who know what is good have 
 long been in the habit of enjoying mackerel and had- 
 docks (especially Dublin Bay haddocks) stuffed and 
 baked, and cods’ heads similarly treated. The Jews do 
 something of the kind with halibut’s head, which they 
 prize as the greatest of all piscine delicacies. The John 
 Dory is commonly stuffed and cooked in an oven by 
 those who understand his merits. 
 
 The excellence of Sir Henry Thompson’s idea con- 
 sists in its breadth as applicable to a// fish, on the basis of 
 that fundamental principle of scientific cookery on which 
 I have so continually and variously insisted, viz. the re- 
 tention and concentration of the natural juices of the 
 viands. 
 
 He recommends the placing of the fish entire, if of 
 moderate size, in a tin or plated copper dish adapted to 
 the form and size of the fish, but a little deeper than its 
 thickness, so as to retain all the juices, which on exposure 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. 89 
 
 to the heat will flow out ; the surface to be lightly spread 
 with butter with a morsel or two added, and the dish | 
 placed before the fire in a Dutch or American oven, or 
 the special apparatus made by Burton of Oxford Street, 
 which was exhibited at the lecture. 
 
 To this I may add, that if a closed oven be used, 
 Rumford’s device of a false bottom, shown in Fig. 3, p. 72 
 (see next chapter), should be adopted, which may be 
 easily done by simply standing the above-described fish- 
 dish, on any kind of support to raise it a little, in a 
 larger tin tray or baking-dish, containing some water. 
 ‘The evaporation of the water will prevent the drying up 
 of the fish or of its natural gravy ; and if the oven ven- 
 tilation is treated with the contempt I shall presently 
 ~ recommend, the fish, if thick, will be better cooked and 
 more juicy than in an open-faced oven in front of the 
 fire. 
 
 This reminds me of a method of cooking fish which, 
 in the course of my pedestrian travels in Italy, I have 
 seen practised in the rudest of osterias, where my fellow- 
 guests were carbonari (charcoal burners), waggoners, 
 road-making navvies, &c. Their staple ‘agro,’ or fast- 
 day material, is split and dried codfish imported from 
 Norway, which in appearance resembles the hides that 
 are imported to the Bermondsey tanneries. A piece is 
 hacked out from one of these, soaked for awhile in water, 
 and carefully rolled in a piece of paper saturated with 
 olive oil. A hole is then made in the white embers of 
 the charcoal fire, the paper parcel of fish inserted and 
 carefully buried in ashes of selected temperature. It 
 comes out wonderfully well cooked considering the nature 
 of the raw material. Luxurious cookery ex papillote is 
 conducted on the same principle and especially applied 
 to red mullets, the paper being buttered and the sauce 
 
60 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE 
 
 enveloped with the fish. Inall these cases the retention 
 of the natural juices is the primary object. 
 
 I should add that Sir Henry Thompson directs, as a 
 matter of course, that the roasted fish should be served 
 
 in the dish wherein it was cooked. He suggests that 
 
 ‘portions of fish, such as fillets, may be treated as well 
 as entire fish; garnishes of all kinds, as shell-fish, &c., 
 may be added, flavouring also with fine herbs and con- 
 diments according to taste.’ ‘Fillets of plaice or skate 
 with a slice or two of bacon; the dish to be filled or 
 garnished with some previously-boiled haricots,’ is wisely 
 recommended as a savoury meal for a poor man, and one 
 that is highly nutritious. A chemical analysis of six- 
 pennyworth of such a combination would prove its 
 nutritive value to be equal to fully eighteen-pennyworth 
 of beefsteak. 
 
 Some people may be inclined to smile at what I am 
 about to say, viz. that such savoury dishes, serving to 
 vary the monotony of the poor hard-working man’s ordi- 
 nary fare, afford considerable moral, as well as physical, 
 advantage, 
 
 An instructive experience of my own will illustrate 
 this. When wandering alone through Norway in 1856, 
 I lost the track in crossing the Kjolen fjeld, struggled on 
 for twenty-three hours without food or rest, and arrived 
 in sorry plight at Lom, a very wild region. After a few 
 hours’ rest I pushed on to a still wilder region and still 
 rougher quarters, and continued thus to the great Jos- 
 tedal table-land, an unbroken glacier of 500 square 
 miles ; then descended the Jostedal itself to its opening 
 on the Sogne fjord—five days of extreme hardship with 
 no other food than flatbrod (very coarse oatcake), and 
 bilberries gathered on the way, varied on one occasion 
 with the luxury of two raw turnips. Then I reached a 
 
ROASTING AND GRILLING. 61 
 
 comparatively luxurious station (Ronnei), where ham 
 and eggs and claret were obtainable. The first glass of 
 claret produced an effect that alarmed me—a craving 
 for more and for stronger drink, that was almost irre- 
 sistible. I finished a bottle of St. Julien, and nothing 
 but a violent effort of will prevented me from then 
 ordering brandy. 
 
 I attribute this to the exhaustion consequent upon _ 
 the excessive work and insufficient unsavoury food of 
 the previous five days; have made many subsequent 
 observations on the victims of alcohol, and have no 
 doubt that overwork and scanty, tasteless food is the 
 primary source of the craving for strong drink that so 
 largely prevails with such deplorable results among the 
 class that is the most exposed to such privation. I do 
 not say that this is the only source of such depraved 
 appetite. It may also be engendered by the opposite 
 extreme of excessive luxurious pandering to general 
 sensuality. , 
 
 The practical inference suggested by this experience 
 and these observations is, that speech-making, pledge- 
 signing, and blue-ribbon missions can only effect tem- 
 _ porary results unless supplemented by satisfying the 
 natural appetite of hungry people by supplies of food 
 that are not only nutritious, but savoury and varzed. Such 
 food need be no more expensive than that which is 
 commonly eaten by the poorest of Englishmen, but it 
 must be far better cooked. 
 
 Comparing the domestic economy of the poorer 
 classes of our countrymen with that of the correspond- 
 ing classes in France and Italy (with both of which Iam 
 well acquainted), I find that the raw material of the 
 dietary of the French and Italians is inferior to that of — 
 the English, but a far better result is obtained by better 
 
62 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 cookery. The Italian peasantry are better fed than the 
 French. In the poor osterias above referred to, not only 
 the Friday salt fish, but all the other viands, were incom- 
 parably better cooked than in corresponding places in 
 England, and the variety was greater than is common in 
 many middle-class houses. The ordinary supper of the 
 . froughs’ above-named was of three courses: first, a 
 ‘minestra, te. asoup of some kind, continually varied, 
 or a savoury dish of macaroni ; then a ragofit or savoury 
 stew of vegetables and meat, followed by an excellent 
 salad ; the beverage, a flask of thin but genuine wine. 
 When I come to the subject of cheese, I will describe 
 their mode of cooking and using it. 
 
 My first walk through Italy extended from the Alps 
 to Naples, and from Messina to Syracuse. I thus spent 
 nearly a year in Italy during a season of great abund- 
 ance, and never saw a drunken Italian. A few years 
 after this I walked through a part of Lombardy, and 
 found the little osterias as bad as English beershops or 
 low public-houses. It was a period of scarcity and 
 trouble, ‘the three plagues,’ as they called them—the 
 potato disease, the silkworm fungus, and the grape dis- 
 ease—had brought about general privation. There was 
 no wine at all; potato spirit and coarse beer had taken 
 its place. Monotonous ‘ polenta,’ a sort of paste or por- 
 ridge made from Indian corn meal, to which they give 
 the contemptuous name of ‘ miserabile, was then the 
 general food, and much drunkenness was the natural 
 consequence, 
 
63 
 
 CHAPTER VI, 
 
 COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER. 
 
 IN the third volume of his ‘Essays, Political, Econo- 
 mical, and Philosophical, page 129, Count Rumford in- 
 troduces this subject, with the following apology, which 
 I repeat and adopt. He says: ‘I shall, no doubt, be 
 criticised by many for dwelling so long on a subject 
 which to them will appear low, vulgar, and trifling ; but 
 I must not be deterred by fastidious criticisms from 
 doing all I can do to succeed in what I have undertaken. 
 Were I to treat my subject superficially, my writing 
 would be of no use to anybody, and my labour would be 
 lost ; but by investigating it thoroughly, I may, perhaps, 
 engage others to pay that attention to it which, from its 
 importance, it deserves.’ 
 
 This subject of roasting occupied a large amount of 
 Count Rumford’s attention while he was in England 
 residing in Brompton Road, and founding the Royal 
 Institution. His efforts were directed not merely to. 
 cooking the meat effectively, but to doing so econo- 
 mically. Like al! others who have contemplated thought- 
 fully the habits of Englishmen, he was shocked at the 
 barbaric waste of fuel that everywhere prevailed in this 
 country, even to a greater extent then than now. 
 
 The first fact that necessarily presented itself to his 
 mind was the great amount of heat that is wasted, when 
 an ordinary joint of meat is suspended in front of an 
 
64 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 ordinary coal fire to intercept and utilise only a small 
 fraction of its total radiation. 
 
 As far as I am aware, there is no other country in 
 Europe where such a process is indigenous. I say ‘in- 
 digenous,’ because there certainly are hotels where this 
 or any other English extravagance is perpetrated to 
 please Englishmen who choose to pay for it. What is 
 usually called roast meat in countries not inhabited by 
 English-speaking people, is what we should call ‘baked 
 meat,’ the very name of which sets all the gastronomic 
 bristles of an orthodox Englishman in a position of 
 perpendicularity. 
 
 I have a theory of my own respecting the origin of 
 this prejudice. Within the recollection of many still 
 living, the great middle class of Englishmen lived in 
 town; their sitting-rooms were back parlours behind 
 their shops, or factories, or warehouses ; their drawing- 
 rooms were on the first-floor, and kitchens in the base- 
 ment. 
 
 They kept one general servant of the ‘Marchioness’ 
 type. The corresponding class now live in suburban 
 villas, keep cook, housemaid, and parlour-maid, besides 
 the gardener and his boy, and they dine at supper-time. 
 
 In the days of the one marchioness and the basement 
 kitchen, these citizens ‘of credit and renown’ dined at 
 dinner-time, and were in the habit of placing a three- 
 legged open iron triangle in a brown earthenware dish, 
 then spreading a stratum of peeled potatoes on said dish, 
 
 and a joint of meat above, on the open triangular support. . 
 
 This edifice was carried by the marchioness to the 
 bakehouse round the corner at about 11 A.M., and brought 
 back steaming and savoury at I P.M. 
 
 This was especially the case on Sundays; but there 
 were exceptions, as when, for example, the condition of 
 
COUNT RUMPORD’S ROASTER. 65 
 
 the mistress’s wardrobe offered no particular motive for 
 going to church, and she stayed at home and roasted the 
 Sunday dinner. The experience thus obtained demon- 
 strated a material difference between the flavour of the 
 roasted and the baked meat very decidedly in favour of 
 the home roasted. Why? 
 
 The principal reason was, I believe, that the baker’s 
 large bread-oven contained at dinner-time a curious 
 medley of meats—mutton, beef, pork, geese, veal, &c., 
 including stuffing with sage and onions, besides the pos- 
 sibility of a joint or two that had been hung longer than 
 was necessary for procuring tenderness. The vapours of 
 these would induce a confusion of flavours in the milder 
 meats, fully accounting for the observed superiority of 
 -the home-roasted joints. 
 
 A little reflection on the principles already expounded 
 will show that, theoretically regarded, a given piece of 
 meat would be better roasted in a closed chamber radi- 
 ating heat from all sides towards the meat than it could 
 be when suspended in front of a fire and heated only on 
 one side, while the other side was turned away to cool 
 more or less, according to the rate of rotation. 
 
 If I agreed with the popular belief in the advantage 
 of open-air exposure to direct radiation from glowing 
 coal, I should suggest that for large joints a special roast- 
 ing fire be constructed, by building an upright cylinder 
 of fire-brick, and erecting within this a smaller cylinder 
 or grating of iron bars, so that the fuel should be placed 
 between these, and thus form an upright cylindrical ring 
 or shirt of fire, enclosed outside by the bricks, but open 
 and glowing towards the inside of the hollow cylinder, 
 in the midst of which the meat should be suspended to 
 receive the radiation from ‘all sides. 
 
 The whole apparatus might stand under a dome, 
 
 F 
 
66 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK Eee 
 
 terminating in an ordinary chimney, like a glass-house 
 or a steel-maker’s cementing furnace; or, in this re- 
 spect, like those wondrous kitchens of the old seraglio 
 at Constantinople, where each apartment is a huge 
 chimney, outspreading downwards, so that the cooks, 
 and their materials and apparatus, as well as the huge 
 fires themselves, are all under the great central chimney 
 shaft. 
 
 I do not, however, recommend such an apparatus, 
 even to the most wealthy and luxurious epicure, because 
 I am convinced, not merely from theoretical considera- 
 tions, but also from practical experiments, that all kinds 
 of meat may be not merely as well roasted in a close oven 
 as before an open fire, but that the close chamber, pro- 
 perly managed, produces Jetter results in every respect 
 than can possibly be obtained by roasting in ‘the open 
 air. 
 
 To obtain such results there must be no compromise, 
 no concession to any false theory respecting a necessity 
 for special ventilation, excepting in the case of semi- 
 putrid game or venison, which require to be carbonised 
 and disinfected as well as cooked, and, of course, also 
 demand the speedy removal of their noxious vapours. 
 
 Not so with fresh meats. There is nothing in the 
 vapour of beef that can injure the flavour of beef, nor in 
 the vapour of mutton that is damaging to mutton, and so 
 on with the rest. But there is much that can, and does 
 actually improve them ; or, more strictly speaking, pre- 
 vents the deterioration to which they are liable when 
 roasted before an open fire. I will endeavour to explain 
 this. 
 
 Carefully-conducted experiments have demonstrated 
 the general law that atmospheric air is a vacuum to the 
 vapour of water and other similar vapours, while each 
 
COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER. 67 
 
 particular vapour is a plenum to itself, though not to 
 other vapours ; or, otherwise stated, if a given space, at 
 a given temperature, be filled with air, the quantity of 
 aqueous vapour that it is capable of holding is the same 
 as though this space contained no air at all, nor any- 
 thing else. But this same space may contain a much 
 smaller quantity of aqueous vapour, and yet be abso- 
 lutely impenetrable to aqueous vapour, provided its 
 temperature is unaltered. 
 
 Thus, if a bell-glass, filled with air, under ordinary 
 pressure, at the temperature of 100° Fahr., be placed 
 over a dish of water at the same temperature, a quantity of 
 vapour, equal to 1-30th (in round numbers) of the weight 
 of the air, will rise into the bell-glass, and there remain 
 diffused throughout. If there were less air, or no air at 
 all (temperature remaining the same), the bell-glass would 
 obtain and hold the same quantity of vapour. 
 
 If, instead of being filled with air, it contained at the 
 outset only this 1-30th of aqueous vapour, it would now 
 be an impenetrable plenum, behaving like a solid to 
 aqueous vapour—no more could be forced into it while 
 its temperature remained the same. 
 
 But while thus charged with aqueous vapour, there 
 would still be room for vapour of alcohol, or turpentine, 
 or ether, or chloroform, &c. It would be a vacuum to 
 these, though a plenum to itself. On the other hand, if 
 the alcohol, turpentine, ether, or chloroform were allowed 
 to evaporate into the bell-glass, a certain quantity of 
 either of these vapours would presently enter it, and then 
 this vapour would act like a solid mass in resisting the 
 entry of any more of its own kind, while it would be 
 freely pervious to the vapour of water or that of the 
 other liquids. 
 
 A practical example will further illustrate this. Some 
 F 2 
 
68 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKiTe. 
 
 years ago I was engaged in the distillation of paraffin 
 oil, and had a few thousand gallons of the crude liquid 
 in a still with a tall head and a rising condenser. In 
 spite of severe firing, the distillation proceeded very 
 slowly. Then I threw into the still, just above the 
 surface of the oil, a jet of steam. The rate of distillation 
 immediately increased with the same firing, although the 
 steam was of much lower temperature than the boiling 
 oil, and, therefore, wasted much heat. The rationale of 
 this was, that at first an atmosphere of oil vapour stood 
 over the oil, and this was impervious to more oil vapour, 
 but on sweeping this out and replacing it by steam, the 
 atmosphere above the liquid oil was permeable by oil 
 vapour. This principle is largely applied in similar 
 distillations. 
 
 Always keeping in view that the primary problem in 
 roasting is to raise the temperature throughout to the 
 cooking heat without desiccation of the natural juices of 
 the meat, and applying to this problem the laws of 
 vapour diffusion expounded in my last, it is easy enough 
 to understand the theoretical advantages of roasting in 
 a closed oven, the space within which speedily becomes 
 saturated with those particular vapours that resist 
 further vaporisation of these juices. 
 
 In all open-air roasting, whether by the one-sided 
 fire of ordinary construction or the surrounding fire that 
 I have suggested, convection currents are necessarily at 
 work desiccating and toughening the meat in spite of 
 the basting, though tempered thereby. 
 
 I say ‘theoretical,’ because I despair of practically 
 convincing any thoroughbred Englishman that baked 
 meat is better than roasted meat by any reasoning 
 whatever. If, however, he is sufficiently ‘un-English’ 
 to test the question experimentally, he may possibly 
 
COUNT RUMFORD'S ROASTER. 69 
 
 convince himself. To do this fairly, a large joint of 
 meat should be equally divided, one half roasted in 
 front of the fire, the other in a non-ventilated oven over 
 a little water by a cook who knows how to heat the 
 oven. This condition is essential, as some intelligence 
 is demanded in regulating the temperature of an oven, 
 while any barbarian can carry out the modern modifica- 
 tion of the ordinary device of the savage, who skewers 
 a bit of meat, and holds this near enough to a fire to 
 make it frizzle. 
 
 Having settled this question to my own satisfaction 
 more than twenty years ago, I now amuse myself 
 occasionally by experimenting upon others, and con- 
 tinually find that the most uncompromising theoretical 
 haters of baked meat practically prefer it to orthodox 
 roasted meat, provided always that they eat it in 
 ignorance. } 
 
 Part II. of Count Rumford’s ‘Tenth Essay’ is de- 
 voted to his roaster and roasting generally, and occupies 
 ninety-four pages, including the special preface. This 
 preface is curious now, as it contains the following 
 apology for delay of publication: ‘During several 
 months, almost the whole of my time was taken up 
 with the business of the Royal Institution; and those 
 who are acquainted with the objects of that noble esta- 
 blishment will, no doubt, think that I judged wisely in 
 preferring its interest to every other concern.’ 
 
 To those who attend the fashionable gatherings held 
 on Friday evenings in ‘ that noble establishment’ during 
 the London season, it is almost comical to read what its 
 founder says concerning the object for which it was 
 instituted—viz. the noble purpose of DIFFUSING THE 
 KNOWLEDGE AND FACILITATING THE GENERAL IN- 
 TRODUCTION OF NEW AND USEFUL INVENTIONS AND 
 
70 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 IMPROVEMENTS, ‘The capitals are Rumford’s, and he 
 illustrates their meaning by reference to ‘the repository 
 of this new establishment, where specimens of pots and 
 kettles, ovens, roasters, fireplaces, gridirons, tea-kettles, 
 kitchen-boilers, &c., might be inspected. 
 
 Some years ago, when I was sufficiently imprudent 
 to accept an invitation to describe Rumford’s scientific 
 researches in ove Friday evening lecture, rigidly limited 
 to fifty-seven minutes (and consequently muddled my 
 subject in the vain struggle to condense it), I tried 
 to find the original roaster, but failed; all that remained 
 of the original ‘repository’ being a few models put out 
 of the way as though they were empty wine-bottles. I 
 am not finding fault, as the noble work that has been 
 done there by Davy, Faraday, and Tyndall must have 
 profoundly gladdened the supervising soul of Rumford — 
 (supposing that it does such spiritual supervision), in, 
 spite of his neglected roaster, which I must now describe 
 without further digression. 
 
 It is shown open and out of its setting in Fig. 1, and 
 there seen as a hollow cylinder of sheet-iron, which, for 
 ordinary use, may be about 18 inches in diameter and 
 24 inches long, closed permanently at one end, and bya 
 hinged double door of sheet-iron (dd) at the other. The 
 doubling of the door is for the purpose of retaining the 
 heat by means of an intervening Jining of ill-conducting 
 material. Or a single door of sheet-iron, with a panel 
 of wood outside, may be used. The whole to be set 
 horizontally in brickwork, as shown in Fig. 4, the door- 
 front being flush with the front of the brickwork. The 
 flame of the small fire below plays freely all round it by 
 filling the enveloping flue-space indicated by the dotted 
 lines on Fig. 4. Inside the cylinder is a shelf to support 
 
COUNT RUMFORD'’S ROASTER. 71 
 
 the dripping-pan (d) Fig. 1, which is separately shown 
 in Figs, 2 and 3. 
 This dripping-pan is an important element of the 
 
 apparatus. Fig. 3 shows it in cross section, made up of 
 two tin-plate dishes, one above the other, arranged to 
 
 Hic. 2, 
 
 leave a space (w) between. This space contains water, 
 haif to three-quarters of an inch in depth. Above is a 
 gridiron, shown in plan, Fig. 2, on which the meat rests ; 
 
re THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKEAY 
 
 the bars of this are shown in section in Fig. 3. The 
 object of this arrangement is to prevent the fat which 
 
 \ °° Se 
 
 Bigs: 
 
 drips from the meat from being overheated and filling 
 the roaster with the fumes of burnt—ze. partially de- 
 
COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER. 73 
 
 composed, fat and gravy, to the tainting influence of 
 which Rumford attributed the English prejudice against 
 baked meat. So long as any water remains the dripping 
 cannot be raised more than two or three degrees above 
 Z12. 
 
 The tube v, Fig. 1, is for carrying away vapour, if 
 necessary. This tube may be opened or closed by 
 means of a damper moved by the little handle shown 
 on the right. The /eat of the roaster is regulated by 
 means of the register c, Fig. 4, in the ash-pit door of the 
 fire-place, its dryness by the above-named damper of the 
 steam tube v, and also by the blowpipes, 0 /. 
 
 These are iron tubes, about 2} in. in diameter, placed 
 underneath, so as to’be in the midst of the flame as 
 it ascends from the fire into the enveloping flue, shown 
 by the dotted lines, Fig. 4, where their external openings 
 are shown at 6 2, Og, and the plugs by which they may 
 be opened or closed in Fig. 1. It is evident that by 
 removing these plugs, and opening the damper of the 
 steam pipe, a blast of hot dry air will be delivered into 
 the roaster at its back part, and it must pass forward to 
 escape by the steam pipe. As these blowpipes are 
 raised to a red heat when the fire is burning briskly, the 
 temperature of this blast of air may be very high; 
 with even a very moderate fire, sufficiently high to desic- 
 cate and spoil the meat if they were kept open during all 
 the time of cooking. They are accordingly to be kept 
 closed until the last stage of the roasting is reached ; 
 then the fire is urged by opening the ash-pit register, 
 and when the blowpipes are about red-hot, their plugs 
 are removed, and the steam-pipe damper is opened for a 
 few minutes to brown the meat by means of the hot 
 wind thus generated. 
 
 It will be observed that a special fire directly under 
 
74 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOki ie. 
 
 the roaster is here designed, and that this fire is enclosed 
 in brickwork. This is a general feature of Rumford’s 
 arrangements. The economy of the whole device will 
 be understood by the fact that in a test experiment at 
 the Foundling Institution of London, he roasted 112 lbs. 
 of beef with a consumption of only 22 lbs. of coal ae 
 pennyworth, at 25s. per ton). 
 
 Rumford tells us that ‘when these roasters were first 
 proposed, and before their merit was established, many 
 doubts were entertained respecting the taste of the food 
 prepared in them,’ but that, after many practical trials, it 
 was proved that ‘meat of every kind, without any ex- 
 ception, roasted in a roaster, is better tasted, higher 
 flavoured, and much more juicy and delicate than when 
 roasted on a spit before an open fire. These italics are 
 in the original, and the testimony of competent judges 
 is quoted. 
 
 I must describe one experiment in detail. Two legs 
 of mutton from the same carcass made equal in weight 
 before cooking were roasted, one before the fire and the 
 other in a roaster. When cooked, both were weighed, 
 and the joint roasted in the roaster proved to be heavier 
 than the other by 6 per cent. They were brought upon 
 table at the same time, ‘and a large and perfectly 
 unprejudiced company was assembled to eat them.’ 
 Both were found good, but a decided preference given to 
 that cooked in the roaster; ‘it was much more juicy, 
 and was thought better tasted.’ Both were fairly eaten 
 up, nothing remaining of either that was eatable, and 
 the fragments collected. ‘Of the leg of mutton which 
 had been roasted in the roaster, hardly anything visible 
 remained, excepting the bare bone, while a considerable 
 heap was formed of scraps not eatable which remained 
 of that roasted on a spit.’ 
 
COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER. 75 
 
 This was an eloquent experiment; the gain of 6 per 
 cent. tells of juices retained with consequent gain of 
 flavour, tenderness, and digestibility, and the subsequent 
 testimony of the scraps describes the difference in the 
 condition of the tendonous, integumentary portions of 
 the joints, which are just those that present the toughest 
 practical problems to the cook, especially in roasting. 
 
 But why are these roasters not in general use? Why 
 did they die with their inventor, notwithstanding the 
 fact, mentioned in his essay, that Mr. Hopkins, of Greek 
 Sireet, Soho, had sold above 200, and others were 
 making them? 
 
 Those of my Pda who have had practical ex- 
 perience in using hot air or in superheating steam, will 
 doubtless have already detected a weak point in the 
 ‘blowpipes.’ When iron pipes are heated to redness, or 
 thereabouts, and a blast of air or steam passes through 
 them, they work admirably for a while, but presently 
 the pipe gives way, for iron is a combustible substance, 
 and burns slowly when heated and supplied with abun- 
 dant oxygen, either by means of air or water ; the latter 
 being decomposed, its hydrogen set free, while its 
 oxygen combines with the iron, and reduces it to friable 
 oxide. Rumford does not appear to have understood 
 this, or he would have made his blowpipes of fire-clay or 
 other refractory non-oxidisable material. 
 
 The records of the Great Seal Office contain specifica- 
 tions of hundreds of ingenious inventions that have failed 
 most vexatiously from this defect; and I could tell of 
 joint-stock companies that have been ‘floated’ to carry 
 out inventions involving the use of heated air or super- 
 heated steam that have worked beautifully and with 
 apparent economy while the shares were in the market, 
 and then collapsed just when the calls were paid up, the 
 
76 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE 
 
 cost of renewal of superheaters and hot-air chambers 
 having worse than annulled the economy of working 
 fuel described in the prospectus. ‘Thus a vessel driven 
 by heated air, as a substitute for steam, was fitted up 
 with its caloric engine, and crossed the Atlantic with 
 passengers on board. The voyage practically demon- 
 strated a great saving of coal; the patent rights were 
 purchased accordingly for a very large amount, and 
 shares went up buoyantly until the oxidation of the 
 creat air chamber proved that the engine burned iron as 
 well as coal at a ruinous cost. 
 
 Although no mention is made by Rumford af such 
 destruction of the blowpipes, he was evidently conscious 
 of the costliness of his original roaster, as he describes 
 another which may be economically substituted for it. 
 This has an air chamber formed by bringing down the 
 body of the oven so as to enclose the space occupied by 
 the blowpipes shown in Fig. 1, and placing the dripping- 
 pan on a false bottom joined to the front face of the 
 roaster just below the door, but not extending quite to 
 the back. An adjustable register door opens at the front 
 into this air chamber, and when this is opened the air 
 passes along from front to back under the false bottom, 
 and rises behind to an outlet pipe like that shown at 7, 
 Fig. 1. In thus passing along the hot bottom of the oven 
 the air is heated, but not so greatly as by the blow- 
 pipes, which being surrounded by the flame on all sides, 
 are heated above as well as below, and the air in passing 
 through them is much more exposed to heat than in 
 passing through the air-chamber. 
 
 To increase the heat transmitted in the latter, Rum- 
 ford proposes that ‘a certain quantity of iron wire, in 
 loose coils, or of iron turnings, be put into the air 
 chamber.’ 
 
COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER. 77 
 
 This modification he called a ‘ roasting-oven,’ to dis- 
 tinguish it from the first.described, the ‘roaster.’ He 
 states that the roasting-oven is not quite so effective as 
 the roaster, but from its greater cheapness may be largely 
 used. This anticipation has been realised. The modern 
 ‘kitchener, which in so many forms is gradually and 
 steadily supplanting the ancient open range, is an appa- 
 ratus in which roasting in the open air before a fire is 
 superseded by roasting in a closed chamber or roasting- 
 oven. Having made three removals within the last 
 twelve years, each preceded by a tedious amount of 
 house-hunting, I have seen a great many kitchens of 
 newly-built houses, and find that about 90 per cent. of 
 these have closed kitcheners, and only about I0 per cent. 
 are fitted with open ranges of the old pattern. Bottle- 
 jacks, like smoke-jacks and spits, are gradually falling 
 into disuse. 
 
 When these kitcheners were first introduced, a great 
 point was made by the manufacturer of the distinction 
 between the roasting and the baking-oven ; the first being 
 provided with a special apparatus for effecting ventila- 
 tion by devices more or less resembling that in Rum- 
 ford’s roasting-oven. Gradually these degenerated into 
 mere shams, and now in the best kitcheners even a pre- 
 tence to ventilation is abandoned. Having reasoned out 
 my own theory of the conditions demanded for perfect 
 roasting some time ago (about 1860, when I lectured on 
 ‘ Household Philosophy,’ to a class of ladies at the Bir- 
 mingham and Midland Institute), I have watched the 
 gradual disappearance of these concessions to popular 
 prejudice with some interest, as they show how practical 
 experience has confirmed my theory, which, as already 
 expounded, isthat the meat should be cooked by the action 
 of radiant heat, projected towards zt from all sides, while 
 
78 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE 
 
 zt 1s zmmersed in an atmosphere nearly saturated with tts 
 OWN VAPOULs. 
 
 Let it be clearly understood that I refer to the vapours 
 as they rise from the meat, and not to the vapour of 
 burnt dripping, which Rumford describes. The acrid 
 properties of the products of such partial dissociation 
 are far better understood by modern chemists than they 
 were in Rumford’s time. 
 
 His water dripping-pan effectually prevents their for- 
 mation. It is still manufactured of the precise pattern 
 shown in the drawing, copied from Rumford’s, and cooks 
 who understand their business at all use it as a matter 
 of course. 
 
 The few domestic fireplace-ovens that existed in 
 Rumford’s time were clumsily heated by raking some of 
 the fire from the grate into a space left below the oven. 
 Those of the best modern kitcheners are heated by flues 
 going round them, generally starting from the top, which 
 thus attains the highest temperature. The radiation from 
 this does the ‘browning’ for which beets: blow- 
 pipes were designed. 
 
 Here I differ from my teacher, as,according to my 
 view of the philosophy of roasting, the browning, or the 
 application of the highest temperature, should take place 
 at the beginning rather than the end of the process, in 
 order that a crust of firmly coagulated albumen may 
 surround the joint and retain the juices of the meat. All 
 that is necessary to obtain this effect in a sufficient 
 degree is to raise the roasting-oven to an excessive 
 temperature before the meat is put in. Supposing an 
 equal fire is maintained all the while, this excessive 
 initial temperature will presently decline, because, when 
 the meat is in the oven, the radiant heat from its sides 
 is intercepted by the joint and doing work upon it; 
 
COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER. 79 
 
 heat cannot do work without a corresponding fall of tem- 
 perature. While the oven is empty the radiations from 
 each side cross the open space to reinforce the tempe- 
 rature of the other sides. 
 
 When I first decided to write on this subject I made 
 some designs for kitchen thermometers intending to have 
 them made, and to recommend their use; but was not 
 successful. When a man condemns his own inventions, his 
 verdict may be safely accepted without further inquiry. 
 
 I afterwards learned that Messrs. Davis & Co. had 
 already constructed special oven thermometers, to be so 
 attached to the oven-door that the bulb should be inside 
 and the tube having the expansion of the mercury out- 
 side, and therefore readable without opening the door, 
 as shown in Fig. 5, and another for standing inside the 
 oven, Fig. 6. | 
 
 I learned by these thermometers the cause of my own 
 failure. I tried to do too much—to construct one form 
 of thermometer to do all kinds of kitchen work. A 
 thermometer suitable for the oven is not applicable to 
 trying the temperature of a fat-bath used in frying. I 
 accordingly wrote to Messrs. Davis asking them to devise 
 a thermometer for this purpose. They have done so. It 
 is described in the next chapter. 
 
 Is there, then, any difference at all between roasting 
 and baking? There is. In roasting, the temperature, ~ 
 after the first start, is maintained about uniformly 
 throughout ; while in baking bread by the old-fashioned 
 method, the temperature continually declines from the 
 beginning to the end of the process ; but in order that a 
 dweller in cities, or the cook of an ordinary town house- 
 hold, may understand this difference, some explanation 
 is necessary. The old-fashioned oven, such as was gene- 
 rally used in Rumford’s time, and is still used in country 
 
80 ITHE CHEMISTRY OF CCORiaa 
 
 houses and by old-fashioned bakers, is an arched cavity 
 of brick with a flat brick floor. This cavity is closed by 
 a suitable door, which in its primitive, and perhaps its 
 best form, was a flat tile pressed against the opening and 
 
 Pie.G. 
 
 luted round with clay. Such ovens were, and still are, 
 heated by simply spreading on the brick floor a sufficient 
 quantity of wood—preferably well-dried twigs; these, 
 being lighted, raise the temperature of the arched roof 
 
COUNT RUMFORD’S ROASTER: ~ 8 
 
 to a glowing heat, and that of the floor in a somewhat 
 lower degree. When this heating is completed (the judg- 
 ment of which constitutes the chief element of skill in 
 thus baking) the embers are carefully brushed out from the 
 floor, the loaves, &c.,inserted by means of a flat battledore 
 with a long handle, called a ‘peel,’ and the door closed 
 and firmly luted round, not to be opened until the ope- 
 ration is complete. Baked clay is an excellent radiator, 
 and therefore the surface of bricks forming the arched 
 roof of the oven radiates vigorously upon its contents 
 below, which are thus heated at top by radiation from 
 the roof, and at bottom by direct contact with the floor 
 of the oven. The difference between the compact bottom 
 crust, and the darker bubble-bearing top crust of an 
 ordinary loaf is thus explained. 
 
 As the baking of a large joint of meat is a longer 
 Operation than the baking of bread, there is another 
 reason besides that already given for the inferiority of 
 meat when baked in a baker’s oven constructed on this 
 principle. The slow cooling-down must tend to produce 
 a flabbiness and insipidity similar to that of the roast 
 meat which is served at restaurants where a joint remains 
 ‘in cut’ for two or three hours. Of this I speak theore- 
 tically, not having had an opportunity of tasting a joint 
 that has been cooked in a brick oven of the construction 
 above described ; but I have observed the advantage of 
 maintaining a steady heat throughout the process of 
 roasting (after the first higher heating above described), 
 in the iron oven of a kitchener, or American stove, or 
 gas oven. 7 
 
 Another and somewhat original method of roasting 
 is that which is carried out in ‘Captain Warren’s Cooking 
 Pot,’ concerning the practical result of which I hear con- 
 flicting opinions. It is a large pot containing water, 
 
 G 
 
82 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 inside which is suspended—like the glue chamber of a 
 glue-pot—an inner vessel. The meat to be cooked is 
 placed without water in this inner closed vessel, which 
 dips into the water of the outer vessel, the steam from 
 which is led away by a side opening or pipe. This 
 outer water being kept boiling, the meat is surrounded 
 only by its own vapour, in the midst of which it is 
 cooked at a low temperature. 
 
 The result is similar to boiled meat, with the advan- 
 tage of retaining those juices that pass away into the 
 water in ordinary boiling. This advantage is unques- 
 tionable, and so far the apparatus may be safely recom- 
 mended. But some of the claims made in the pro- 
 spectuses that are freely distributed are questionable. 
 
 The method of roasting with Warren’s pot is to cook 
 the meat as above described in its own vapour, then 
 dredge with flour, and hang before the fire twenty 
 minutes. The result is a tender imitation of roast meat, 
 but more like boiled than roasted meat in flavour. This 
 is much approved by many, but I am told that meat 
 thus cooked and eaten daily palls upon the appetite. I 
 know one, a youth (not one of our fastidious fops of the 
 period), who, fed upon this at school during a few years, 
 ~ has thereby acquired a fixed aversion to boiled meat of 
 all kinds. 
 
 Regarding the subject theoretically, it appears to me 
 that the method recommended by Captain Warren, and 
 followed by those who use his cooker, should be reversed 
 for roasting; that the meat should have the twenty 
 minutes before the fire—orina hot oven—before, instead 
 of after, its stewing in its own vapour. Some experi- 
 ments I have made confirm this view so far as they go, 
 but are not sufficiently numerous to settle the question. 
 
 For stewing of all kinds, and for such concoctions as 
 
 ead 
 
COUNT RUMFORD'S ROASTER. 83 
 
 Rumford’s soup (see Chapter XIV.), it is an admirable 
 apparatus, and the contrivances for carrying the steam 
 from the outer vessel to a vegetable steamer above the 
 cooking chamber, before described, is very ingenious and 
 effective. 
 
 The statement in the prospectus, that the ‘ nourish- 
 ing juices’ otherwise wasted ‘are by that mode con- 
 densed, and form at the bottom of the vessel a rich 
 gelatinous body,’ is misleading. 
 
 Gelatin is not volatile ; the gelatinous body at the 
 bottom of the vessel is not composed of condensed 
 vapours, though condensed vapour of water is concerned 
 in its formation. It. is simply some of the gelatin of 
 the joint dissolved by the water which condenses upon 
 it, and finally drips down from the joint, carrying with it 
 the dissolved gelatin. 
 
84 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 CHARTER Wi 
 
 FRYING. 
 
 THE process of frying follows next in natural order to 
 those of roasting and grilling. A little reflection will 
 show that in frying the heat is not communicated to the 
 food by radiation from a heated surface at some distance, 
 but by direct contact with the heating medium, which 
 is the hot fat commonly, but erroneously, described as 
 ‘boiling fat.’ 
 
 As I am writing for intelligent readers who desire to 
 understand the philosophy of the common processes of 
 cookery, so far as they are understandable, this fallacy 
 concerning boiling fat should be pushed aside at once. 
 
 Generally speaking, ordinary animal fats are not 
 boilable under the pressure of our atmosphere (one of 
 the constituent fatty acids of butter, butyric acid, is an 
 exception ; it boils at 314° Fahr.). Before reaching their 
 boiling-point, ze. the temperature at which they pass 
 completely into the state of vapour, their constituents 
 are more or less dissociated or separated by the repulsive 
 agency of the heat, new compounds being in many cases 
 formed by recombinations of their elements. 
 
 When water is heated to 212° it is converted com- 
 pletely into a gas, which gas, on cooling below 212°, re- 
 turns to the fluid state without any loss. In like manner 
 if we raise an essential oil, such as turpentine, to 320°, 
 or oil of peppermint to 340°, or orange-peel oil to 345°, 
 
FRVING. 8s 
 
 or patchouli to 489°, and other such oils to certain other 
 temperatures, they pass into a state of vapour, and these 
 vapours, when cooled, recondense into their original form 
 of liquid oil without alteration. Hence they are called 
 ‘volatile oils, while the greasy oils which cannot thus be 
 distilled (in which class animal fats are included) are 
 called ‘ fixed oils.’ 
 
 A very simple practical means of distinguishing 
 these is the following: make a spot of the oil to be 
 tested on clean blotting-paper. Heat this by holding it 
 above a spirit-lamp flame, or by toasting before a fire. 
 If the oil is volatile the spot disappears ; if fixed, it 
 remains as a spot of grease until the heat is raised high 
 enough to char the paper, of which charring (a result of 
 the dissociation above-named) the oil partakes. 
 
 But the practical cook may say, ‘This is wrong, for 
 the fat in my frying-pan does boil. I see it boil, and I 
 hear it boil” The reply to this is, that the lard, or 
 dripping, or butter that you put into your frying-pan is 
 oil mixed with water, and that it is not the oil but the 
 water that you see boiling. To prove this, take some 
 fresh lard, as usually supplied, and heat it in any con- 
 - venient vessel, raising the temperature gradually. Pre- 
 sently it will begin to splutter. If you try it witha 
 thermometer you will find that this spluttering-point 
 agrees with the boiling-point of water, and if you use a 
 retort you may condense and collect the splutter-matter, 
 and prove it to be water. So long as the spluttering 
 continues the temperature of the melted fat, ze. the oil, 
 remains about the same, the water vapour carrying away 
 the heat. When all the water is driven off the liquid 
 becomes quiescent, in spite of its temperature rising 
 from 212° to above 400°, when a pungent smoky vapour 
 comes off and the oil grows darker; this vapour is not 
 
86 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE 
 
 vapour of lard, but vapour of separated and recombined 
 constituents of the lard, which is now suffering dis- 
 sociation, the volatile products passing off while the 
 non-volatile carbon (ze. lard-charcoal) remains behind, 
 colouring the liquid. If the heating be continued, a. 
 residuum of this carbon, in the form of soft coke or char- 
 coal, will be all that remains in the heated vessel. 
 
 We may now understand what happens when some- 
 thing humid—say a sole—is put into a frying-pan which 
 contains fat heated above 212°. Water, when suddenly 
 heated above its boiling-point, is a powerful explosive, 
 and may be very dangerous, simply because it expands 
 to 1,728 times its original bulk when converted into 
 steam. Steam-engine boilers and the boilers of kitchen 
 stoves sometimes explode by becoming red-hot while 
 dry, and then receiving a little water which suddenly 
 expands to steam. 
 
 The noise and spluttering that is started immediately 
 the sole is immersed in the hot fat is due to the explo- 
 sion of a multitude of small bubbles formed by the con- 
 finement of the suddenly expanding steam in the viscous 
 fat, from which it releases itself with a certain degree of 
 violence. It is evident that to effect this amount of 
 eruptive violence, the temperature must be considerably 
 above the boiling-point of the exploding water. If it 
 were only just at the boiling-point, the water would boil 
 quietly. 
 
 As we all know, the flavour and appearance of a 
 boiled sole or mackerel are decidedly different from 
 those of a fried sole or mackerel, and it is easy to under- 
 stand that the different results of these cooking processes 
 are to some extent due to the difference of temperature 
 to which the fish is subjected. It will be at once under- 
 stood that my theory of the chief difference between 
 
FRYING. 87 
 
 roasted or grilled meat and boiled meat applies to fried 
 fish ; that the flavouring juices are retained when the fish 
 is fried, while more or less of them escape into the water 
 when boiled. 
 
 Besides this, the surface of the fried fish, like that of 
 the roasted or grilled meat, is ‘browned.’ What is the 
 nature, the chemistry of this browning? 
 
 I have endeavoured to find some answer to this 
 question, that I might quote with authority, but no 
 technological or purely chemical work within my reach 
 supplies such answer. Rumford refers to it as essential 
 to roasting, and provides for it in the manner already 
 described, but he goes no farther into the philosophy of 
 it than admitting its flavouring effect. 
 
 I must therefore struggle with the problem in my 
 own way as I best can. Has the gentle reader ever 
 attempted the manufacture of ‘hard-bake,’ or ‘toffy,’ or 
 ‘butter-scotch,’ by mixing sugar with butter, fusing the 
 mixture, and heating further until the well-known hard, 
 brown confection is produced? I venture to call this 
 fried sugar. If heated simply without the butter it may 
 be called baked sugar. The scientific name for this 
 baked sugar is caramcel. 
 
 The chemical changes that take place in the brown- 
 ing of sugar have been more systematically studied than 
 those which occur in the constituents of flesh when’ 
 browned in the course of ordinary cookery. Believing 
 them to be nearly analogous, I will state, as briefly as 
 possible, the leading facts concerning the sugar. __ 
 
 Ordinary sugar is crystalline, ze. when it passes 
 from the liquid to the solid state it assumes regular 
 geometrical forms. If the solidification takes place un- 
 disturbed and slowly, the geometric crystals are large, 
 as in sugar-candy; if the water is rapidly evaporated 
 
83 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK iia. 
 
 with agitation, the crystals are small, and the whole mass 
 is a granular aggregation of crystals, such as we see in 
 loaf sugar. If this crystalline sugar be heated to about 
 320° Fahr. it fuses, and without any change of chemical 
 composition undergoes some sort of internal physical 
 alteration that makes it cohere in a different fashion. 
 (The learned name for this action is alotropism, and the 
 substance is said to be al/otropic, other conditioned ; or 
 dimorphic, two-shaped). Instead of being crystalline the 
 sugar now becomes vitreous, it solidifies as a transparent. 
 amber-coloured glass-like substance, the well-known 
 barley-sugar, which differs from crystalline sugar not 
 only in this respect, but has a much lower melting-point ; 
 it liquefies between 190° and 212°, while loaf-sugar does 
 not fuse below 320°. Left to itself, vitreous sugar returns 
 gradually to its original condition, loses transparency, 
 and breaks up into small crystals. In doing this it 
 gives out the heat which during its vitreous condition 
 had been doing the work of breaking up its crystalline 
 structure, and therefore was not manifested as tempera- 
 ture: 
 
 This return to the crystalline condition is retarded 
 by adding vinegar or mucilaginous matter to the heated 
 sugar; hence the confectioners’ name of ‘ barley-sugar,’ 
 which, in one of its old-fashioned forms, was prepared 
 by boiling down ordinary sugar in a decoction of pearl 
 barley. 
 
 The French cooks and confectioners carry on the 
 heating of sugar through various stages bearing different 
 technical names, one of the most remarkable of which is 
 a splendid crimson variety, largely used in fancy sweet- 
 meats, and containing no foreign colouring matter, as 
 commonly supposed. Though nothing is added, some- 
 thing is taken away, and this is some of the chemically- 
 
FRVING. 89 
 
 combined water of the original sugar, in the parting 
 with which not only a change of colour occurs, but also 
 a modification of flavour, as anybody may prove by 
 experiment. 
 
 When the temperature is gradually raised to 420°, 
 the sugar loses two equivalents of water, and becomes 
 caramel—a dark-brown substance, no longer sweet, but 
 having a new flavour of its own. It further differs from 
 sugar by being incapable of fermentation. 
 
 The first stage of this cookery of sugar has now an 
 archeological interest in connection with one of the lost 
 arts of the kitchen, viz. the ‘spinning’ of sugar. Within 
 the reach of my own recollection no evening party could 
 pretend to be stylish unless the supper-table was deco- 
 rated with a specimen of this art—a temple, a pagoda, 
 or something of the sort done in barley-sugar. These 
 were made by raising the sugar to 320°, when it fused 
 and became amorphous, or vitreous, as already described. 
 The cook then dipped a skewer into it; the melted 
 vitreous sugar adhered to this, and was drawn out as a 
 thread, which speedily solidified by cooling, While in 
 the act of solidification it was woven into the desired 
 form, and the skilful artist did this with wonderful 
 rapidity. I once witnessed with childish delight the 
 spinning of a great work of art by the Duke of Cumber- 
 land’s French cook in St. James’s Palace. It was a ship 
 in full sail, the sails of edible wafer, the hull a basket- 
 work of spun sugar, the masts of massive sugar-sticks, 
 and the rigging of delicate threads of the same. As 
 nearly as I can remember, the whole was completed in 
 about an hour. 
 
 But to return from high art below stairs to chemical 
 science. The conversion of sugar into caramel is, as 
 already stated, attended with a change of flavour; a 
 
90 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK 
 
 kind of bitterness replaces the sweetness, This peculiar 
 flavour, judiciously used, is a powerful adjunct to 
 cookery, and one which is shamefully neglected in our 
 ordinary English domestic kitchens. To test this, go to 
 one of those Swiss restaurants originally instituted in 
 this country by that enterprising Ticinese, the late Carlo 
 Gatti, dnd which are now so numerous in London and 
 our other large towns; call for maccheront al sugo; 
 notice the rich brown gravy, the ‘sugo. Many an 
 English cook would use half a pound of gravy beef to 
 produce the like; but the basis of this is a halfpenny- 
 worth or less of what I call a caramel compound, as an 
 example of which I copy the following recipe from the 
 
 Household Edition of Gouffée’s ‘ Royal Cookery Book:’ 
 
 ‘Melt half a pound of butter; add one pound of flour; 
 mix well, and leave on a slow fire, stirring occasionally 
 until it becomes of a light mahogany colour. When 
 cool it may be kept in the larder ready for use.’ Gouffé 
 calls this ‘Liaison au Roux ;’ the English for Zazson is 
 a thickening. It is really fried flour. Burnt onion is 
 another form of caramel, with a special flavour super- 
 added. Plain sugar caramel is improved by the use of 
 a little butter, as in making toffee. Thus prepared it is 
 really a fried sugar rather than a baked sugar. Beurre 
 nowr (black butter) is another of the caramelised prepa- 
 rations used by continental cooks. 
 
 While engaged upon your macaroni, look around at 
 the other dishes served to other customers. Instead of 
 the pale slices of meat spread out in a little puddle of 
 pale watery liquid, that are served in English restaurants 
 of corresponding class, you will see dainty morsels, 
 covered with rich brown gravy, or surrounded by vege- 
 tables immersed in the same. This ‘sugo’ is greatly 
 varied according to the requirements, by additions of 
 
FRYING. 91 
 
 stock-broth, tarragon vinegar, ketchup, &c., but burnt 
 flour, burnt sugar, or burnt onions, or burnt something 
 is the basis of it all. 
 
 To further test the flavouring properties of browning, 
 take some eels cut up as usual for stewing ; divide into 
 two portions ; stew one brutally—by this I mean simply 
 in a little water—serving them with this water as a pale 
 gravy or juice. Let the second portion be well fried, 
 fully caramelised or browned, then stewed, and served 
 with brown gravy. Compare the result. Make a corre- 
 sponding experiment with a beefsteak. Cut it in two 
 portions; stew one brutally in plain water; fry the 
 other, then stew it and serve brown. 
 
 Take a highly-baked loaf—better one that is black 
 outside ; scrape off the film of crust that is quite black, 
 z.e. completely carbonised, and you will come to a rich 
 brown layer, especially if you operate upon the bottom 
 crust. Slice off a thin shaving of this and eat it criti- 
 cally. Mark its high flavour as compared with the 
 comparatively insipid crumb of the same loaf, and note 
 especially the resemblance between this flavour and that 
 of the caramel from sugar, and that of the browned eels 
 and browned steak. A delicate way of detecting the 
 flavour due to the browning of bread is to make two 
 bowls of bread and milk in the same manner, one with 
 the crust the other with the crumb of the same loaf. I 
 am not suggesting these as examples of better or worse 
 flavour, but as evidence of the fact that much flavour of 
 some sort is generated. It may be out of place, as I 
 think it is, in the bread and milk, or it may be added 
 with much advantage to other things, as it is by the cook 
 who manipulates caramel and its analogues skilfully. 
 
 The largest constituent of bread is starch. Excluding 
 water, it constitutes about three-fourths of the weight of 
 
92 THE CHEMISTRY OF COGKE Ra. 
 
 good wheaten flour. Starch differs but little from sugar 
 in composition. It is easily converted into sugar by 
 simply heating it with a little sulphuric acid, and by 
 other means, of which I shall have to speak more fully 
 hereafter, when I come to the cookery of vegetables. 
 When simply heated, it is converted into dextrin or 
 ‘British gum,’ largely used as a substitute for gum 
 arabic. If the heat is continued a change of colour 
 takes place; it grows darker and darker, until it 
 blackens just as sugar does, the final result being nearly 
 the same. Water is driven off in both cases, but in 
 carbonising sugar we start with more water, sugar being 
 starch plus water or the elements of water. ‘Thus the 
 brown material of bread-crust or toast is nearly identical 
 with sugar caramel. 
 
 I have often amused myself by watching what occurs - 
 when toast and water is prepared, and I recommend my 
 readers to repeat the observation. Toast a small piece 
 of bread to blackness, and then float it on water in a 
 glass vessel. Leave the water at rest, and direct your 
 attention to the under side of the floating toast. Little 
 threadlike streams of brown liquid will be seen descend- 
 ing in the water. This is a solution of the substance 
 which, if I mistake not, is a sort of caramel, and which 
 ultimately tinges all the water. 
 
 Some years ago I commenced a course of experi- 
 ments with this substance, but did not complete them. 
 In case I should never do so, I will here communicate 
 the results attained. I found that this starch caramel is 
 a disinfectant, and that sugar caramel also has some dis- 
 infecting properties. I am not prepared to say that it 
 is powerful enough to disinfect sewage, though at the 
 time I had a narrow escape from the Great Seal Office, 
 where I thought of patenting it for this purpose as a 
 
FRYING. 93 
 
 non-poisonous disinfectant that may be poured into 
 rivers in any quantity without danger. Though it may 
 not be powerful enough for this, it has an appreciable 
 effect on water slightly tainted with decomposing organic 
 matter. 
 
 This is a very curious fact. We do not know who 
 invented toast and water, nor, so far as I can learn, has 
 any theory of its use been expounded, yet there is extant 
 a vague popular impression that the toast has some sort 
 of wholesome effect on the water. I suspect that this 
 must have been originally based on experience, probably 
 on the experience of our forefathers or foremothers, 
 living in country places where stagnant water was a 
 common beverage, and various devices were adopted to 
 render it potable. 
 
 Gelatin, fibrin, albumen, &c.—z.e. all the materials 
 of animal food—as already shown, are composed, like 
 starch and sugar, of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, with, 
 in the case of these animal substances, the addition of 
 nitrogen; but this does not prevent their partial car- 
 bonisation (or ‘caramelising, if I may invent a name to 
 express the action which stops short of blackening). 
 Animal fat is a hydrocarbon which may be similarly 
 browned, and, if I am right in my generalisation of all 
 these browning processes, an important practical conclu- 
 sion follows, viz. that cheap soluble caramel made by 
 skilfully heating common sugar or flour is really, as well 
 as apparently, as valuable an element in gravies, &c., as 
 the far more expensive colouring matter of brown meat 
 gravies, and that our English cooks should use it far 
 more liberally than they usually do. 
 
 The preparation of sugar caramel is easy enough ; 
 the sugar should be gradually heated till it assumes a 
 rich brown colour and has lost its original sweetness. If 
 
94 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 carried just far enough, the result is easily soluble in hot 
 water, and the solution may be kept for a long time, as 
 it is by cooks who understand its merits. In connection 
 with the idea of its disinfecting action, J may refer to 
 the cookery of tainted meat or ‘high’ game. A hare 
 that is repulsively advanced when raw may, by much 
 roasting and browning, become quite wholesome ; and 
 such is commonly the case in the ordinary cooking of 
 hares. If it were boiled or merely stewed (without pre- 
 
 liminary browning) in this condition, it would be quite 
 
 disgusting to ordinary palates. | 
 
 A leg of mutton for roasting should be hung until it 
 begins to become odorous ; for boiling it should be as 
 fresh as possible. This should be especially remembered 
 now that we have so much frozen meat imported from 
 the antipodes. When duly thawed it is in splendid 
 condition for roasting, but is not usually so satisfactory 
 when boiled. I may here mention incidentally that such 
 meat is sometimes unjustly condemned on account of its 
 displaying a raw centre when cooked. This arises from 
 imperfect thawing. The heat required to thaw a given 
 weight of ice and bring it up to 60° is about the same 
 as is demanded for the cookery of an equal quantity of 
 meat, and therefore, while the thawed portion of the 
 meat is being cooked, the frozen portion is but just 
 thawed, and remains quite raw. 
 
 A much longer time is demanded for thawing—ze, 
 supplying 142° of latent heat—than might be supposed. 
 To ascertain whether the thawing is completed, drive an 
 iron skewer through the thickest part of the joint. If 
 there is a core of ice within it will be distinctly felt by 
 its resistance. 
 
 A correspondent asks me which is the most nutri- 
 tious—a slice of English beef in its own gravy or the 
 
FRVING. 95 
 
 browned morsel as served in an Italian restaurant with 
 the caramel addition to the gravy? 
 
 This is a very fair question, and not difficult to answer. 
 If both are equally cooked, neither overdone nor under- 
 done, they must contain, weight for weight, exactly the 
 same constituents in equally digestible form, so far as 
 chemical composition is concerned. Whether they will 
 actually be digested with equal facility and assimilated 
 with equal completeness depends upon something else 
 not measurable by chemical analysis, viz. the relish 
 with which they are respectively eaten. To some 
 persons the undisguised fleshiness of the English slice, 
 especially if underdone, is very repugnant. To these 
 the corresponding morsel, cooked according to Gouffé 
 rather than Mrs. Beeton, would be more nutritious. To 
 the carnivorous John Bull, who regards such dishes as 
 ‘nasty French messes’ of questionable composition, the 
 slice of unmistakable ox-flesh, from a visible joint, would 
 obtain all the advantages of appreciative mastication, 
 and that sympathy between the brain and the stomach 
 which is so powerful that, when discordantly exerted, it 
 may produce the effects that are recorded in the case of 
 the sporting traveller who was invited by a Red Indian 
 chief to a ‘dog-fight,’ and ate with relish the savoury 
 dishes at what he supposed to be a preliminary banquet. 
 Digestion was tranquilly and healthfully proceeding, 
 under the soothing influence of the calumet, when he 
 asked the chief when the fight would commence. On 
 being told that it was over, and that, in the final ragott 
 he had praised so highly, the last puppy-dog possessed 
 by the tribe had been cooked in his honour, the normal 
 course of digestion of the honoured guest was completely 
 reversed. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of caramel, I should say a 
 
96 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE, 
 
 few words about French coffee, or ‘ Coffee as in France,’ 
 of which we hear so much. There are two secrets 
 upon which depend the excellence of our neighbours 
 in the production of this beverage. First, economy in 
 using the water; second, flavouring with caramel. As 
 regards the first, it appears that English housewives 
 have been demoralised by the habitual use of tea, and 
 apply to the infusion of coffee the popular formula for 
 that of tea, ‘a spoonful for each person and one for the 
 pots : 
 
 The French after-dinner coffee-cup has about one- 
 third of the liquid capacity of a full-sized English 
 breakfast-cup, but the quantity of solid coffee supplied 
 to each cupful is more than equal to that ordinarily 
 allowed for the larger English measure of water. 
 
 Besides this, the coffee is commonly, though not unit- 
 versally, flavoured with a specially and skilfully-pre- 
 pared caramel, instead of the chicory so largely used in 
 England. Much of the so-called ‘French coffee’ now 
 sold by our grocers in tins is caramel flavoured with 
 coffee rather than coffee flavoured with caramel, and 
 many shrewd English housewives have discovered that 
 by mixing the cheapest of these French coffees with an 
 equal quantity of pure coffee they obtain a better result 
 than with the common domestic mixture of three parts 
 coffee and one of chicory. 
 
 A few months ago a sample of ‘coffee-finings’ was 
 sent to me for chemical examination, that I might cer- 
 tify to its composition and wholesomeness. I described 
 it in my report as ‘a caramel, with a peculiarly rich 
 aroma and flavour, evidently due to the vegetable juices 
 or extractive matter naturally united with the saccharine 
 substance from which it is prepared.” I had no definite 
 information of the exact nature of this saccharine sub- 
 
FRYING. 97 
 
 stance, but have since learned that it was a bye-product 
 of sugar refining. 
 
 Neither the juice of the beetroot nor the sap of the 
 sugar-cane consists entirely of pure sugar dissolved in 
 pure water. They both contain other constituents com- 
 mon to vegetable juices, and some peculiar to themselves. 
 These mucilaginous matters, when roughly separated, 
 carry down with them some sugar, and form a sort of 
 coarse sweetwort, capable by skilful treatment of pro- 
 ducing a rich caramel well suited for mixing with 
 coffee. tat 
 
 Returning to the subject of frying, we encounter a 
 good illustration of the practical importance of sound 
 theory. A great deal of fish and other kinds of food 
 is badly and wastefully cooked in consequence of the 
 prevalence of a false theory of frying. It is evident that 
 many domestic cooks (not hotel or restaurant cooks) 
 have a vague idea that the metal plate forming the 
 bottom of the frying-pan should directly convey the 
 heat of the fire to the fried substance, and that the bit 
 of butter or lard or dripping put into the pan is used to 
 prevent the fish from sticking to it or to add to the rich- 
 ness of the fish by smearing its surface. 
 
 The theory which I have propounded above is that 
 the melted fat cooks by convection of heat, just as water 
 does in the so-called boiling of meat. If this is correct, 
 it is evident that the fish, &c., should be completely 
 immersed in a bath of melted fat or oil, and that the 
 turning over demanded by the greased-plate theory 
 is unnecessary. Well-educated cooks understand this 
 distinctly, and use a deeper vessel than our common 
 frying-pan, charge this with a*quantity of fat sufficient 
 to cover the fish, which is simply laid upon a wire sup- 
 port, or frying-basket and left in the hot fat until the 
 
 H 
 
98 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 browning of its surface, or of the flour or bread-crumbs 
 with which it is coated indicates the sufficiency of the 
 cookery. The illustration is from Gouffe’s excellent 
 cookery-book already quoted, and is introduced because 
 I have found it so little understood by English house- 
 wives. Frying-kettles may now be purchased at all 
 our best English ironmongers, though until recently 
 
 they were difficult to obtain. My lectures and papers 
 have largely extended the demand and consequent 
 supply. 
 
 At first sight the deep fat bath appears extravagant, 
 as compared with the practice of greasing the bottom 
 of the pan with a little dab of fat, but any housewife 
 
 who will apply to the frying of sprats, herrings, &c., the © 
 
FRYING. 99 
 
 method of quantitative inductive research, described and 
 advocated by Lord Bacon in his ‘Novum Organum 
 Scientiarum, may prove the contrary. 
 
 ‘Must I read the “Novum Organum,” and buy 
 another dictionary, in order to translate all this?’ she 
 may exclaim in despair. ‘No!’ is my reply. This 
 Baconian inductive method, to which we are indebted 
 for all the triumphs of modern science, is nothing more 
 nor less than the systematic and orderly application of 
 common sense and definite measurement to practical 
 questions. In this case it may be applied simply by 
 frying a weighed quantity of any kind of fish or cutlet, 
 &c., in a weighed quantity of fat used as a bath; then 
 weighing the fat that remains and subtracting the latter 
 weight from the first, to determine the quantity con- 
 sumed. If the frying be properly performed, and this 
 quantity compared with that which is consumed by the 
 method of merely greasing the pan-bottom, the bath 
 frying will be proved to be the more economical as well 
 as the more efficient method. 
 
 The reason of this is simply that much or all of the 
 fat is burnt and wasted when only a thin film is spread 
 on the bottom of the pan, while no such waste occurs 
 when the bath of fat is properly used. The temperature 
 at which the dissociation of fat commences is below that 
 required for delicately browning the surface of the fish 
 itself, or of the flour or bread-crumbs, and therefore no 
 fat is burnt away from the bath, as it is by the over- 
 heated portions of a merely greased frying-pan ; and as 
 regards the quantity adhering to the fish itself, this may 
 be reduced to a minimum by withdrawing it from the 
 bath when the whole is uniformly at the maximum 
 cooking temperature, and allowing the fluid fat to drain 
 
 off at once. It may be supposed that by complete 
 H 2 
 
100 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK@ ia 
 
 immersion of the fish in the fat-bath, more fat will soak 
 into it, but such is not the case; the water amidst the 
 fibres of the fish is boiling and driving out steam so 
 rapidly that no fat can enter if the heat is well main- — 
 tained to the last moment, and the frying not continued 
 too long. When cooked on the greased plate, one side 
 is necessarily cooling, and the fat settling down into the 
 fish to occupy the pores left vacuous by the condensing 
 steam, while the other is being heated from below. 
 
 The temperature of the fat-bath may be tested by 
 the ordinary cook’s method—that of throwing into it a 
 small piece of bread-crumb about the size of anut. If it 
 frizzles and produces large bubbles of steam, the full tem- 
 perature of frying in the hottest of fat is reached ; if it 
 frizzles slightly, and only gives out small steam-bubbles, 
 you have the temperature demanded for slow frying. 
 
 The bath-frying demands separate supplies of fat! 
 —one for fish, another for cutlets and other similar 
 kinds of meat, a third for such goody-goodies as apple- 
 fritters—a most wholesome and delicious dish, too 
 rarely seen on English tables. I suspect that the pre- 
 valence oi the greased frying-pan is the reason of its 
 rarity. Cooked by this barbaric device, apples are 
 scarcely eatable, but when thin slices are immersed in a 
 bath of melted fat at a temperature of about 300° Fahr., 
 the water of their juice is suddenly boiled, and as this 
 water is contained in a multitude of little bladderlike 
 
 1 The necessity for this is not so great as may appear theoretically. 
 I have tried the experiment of having veal cutlets fried in a bath previously 
 used for fish, and was not able to detect any fishy flavour as I expected I 
 should. This was the case even when I knew that the fish fat had been 
 used, and I was consequently far more critical than under ordinary circum- 
 stances. Even apple fritters may be cooked in fat that has been used for 
 fish. I have tried this since the above was written and am surprised at _ 
 the result. 
 
FRVING. Io! 
 
 cells, they burst, and the whole structure is puffed out 
 to a most delicate lightness, far more suitable for fol- 
 lowing solid meats than soddened fruit enveloped in 
 heavy indigestible pudding-paste. Another advantage 
 is that with proper apparatus (wire basket, kettle, and 
 store of special fat) the fritters can be prepared and 
 cooked in about one-tenth of the time demanded for the 
 preparation and cookery of an apple pudding or pie. A 
 few seconds of immersion in the fat-bath is sufficient. 
 
 The fat used in frying requires occasional purification. 
 I may illustrate the principle on which it should be con- 
 ducted by describing the method adopted in the refining 
 of mineral oils, such as petroleum or the paraffin distil- 
 lates of bituminous shales. These are dark, tarry liquids 
 of treacle-like consistency, with a strong and offensive 
 odour. Nevertheless they are, at but little cost, converted 
 into the ‘crystal oil’ used for lamps, and that beautiful 
 pearly substance, the solid, translucent paraffin now so 
 largely used in the manufacture of candles. Besides 
 these, we obtain from the same dirty source an inter- 
 mediate substance, the well-known ‘ Vaseline,’ now be- 
 coming the basis of most of the ointments of the 
 pharmacopeeia. This purification is effected by agitation 
 with sulphuric acid, which partly carbonises and partly 
 combines with the impurities, and separates them in the 
 form of a foul and acrid black mess, known technically 
 as ‘acid tar. When I was engaged in the distillation 
 of cannel and shale in Flintshire, this acid tar was a 
 terrible bugbear. It found its way mysteriously into 
 the Alyn river and poisoned the trout ; but now, if I am 
 correctly informed, the Scotch manufacturers have turned 
 it to profitable account. 
 
 Animal fat and vegetable oils are similarly purified. 
 Very objectionable refuse fat of various kinds is thus 
 
102 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 made into tallow, or material for the soap-maker, and 
 
 grease for lubricating machinery. Unsavoury stories — 
 
 have been told about the manufacture of butter from 
 Thames mud or the nodules of fat that are gathered 
 therefrom by the mudlarks, but they are all false (see 
 paper on ‘The Oleaginous Product of Thames Mud’ in 
 ‘Science in Short Chapters’). It may be possible to 
 purify fatty matter from the foulest of admixtures, and 
 do this so completely as to produce a soft, tasteless fat, 
 ze. a butter substitute, but such a curiosity would cost 
 more than half a crown per pound, and therefore the 
 market is safe, especially as the degree of purification 
 required for soap-making and machinery grease costs 
 but little and the demand for such fat is very great. 
 These methods of purification are not available in 
 the kitchen, as oil of vitriol is a vicious compound. 
 During the siege of Paris some of the Academicians 
 devoted themselves very earnestly to the subject of the 
 purification of fat in order to produce what they termed 
 ‘siege butter’ from the refuse of slaughter-houses, &c., 
 and edible salad oils from crude colza oil, from the rancid 
 fish oils used by the leather-dresser, &c. Those who are 
 specially interested in the subject may find some curious 
 papers in the ‘Comptes Rendus’ of that period. In vol. 
 Ixx1. page 36, M. Boillot describes his method of mixing 
 kitchen-stuff and other refuse fat with lime-water, agitat- 
 ing the mixture when heated, and then neutralising with 
 an acid. The product thus obtained is described as ad- 
 mirably adapted for culinary operations, and the method 
 is applicable to the purpose here under consideration. ~ 
 Further on in the same volume is a ‘ Note on Suets 
 and Alimentary Fats’ by M. Dubrunfaut, who tells us 
 that the most tainted of alimentary fats and rancid oils 
 may be deprived of their bad odours by ‘appropriate 
 
FRYING. 103 
 
 frying. His method is to raise the temperature of the 
 fateto 140 to 150 Cent. (284° to. 302° Fahr.) in a 
 frying-pan; then cautiously sprinkle upon it small 
 quantities of water. The steam carries off the volatile 
 fatty acids which produce the rancidity in such as fish 
 oils, and also removes the neutral offensive fatty matters 
 that are decomposable by heat. In another paper by 
 M. Fua this method is applied to the removal of cellular 
 tissue of crude fats from slaughter-houses. It is really 
 nothing more than the old farmhouse proceeding of 
 ‘rendering’ lard, by frying the membranous fat until 
 the membranous matter is browned and aggregated into 
 small nodules, which constitute the ‘ scratchings ’"—a deli- 
 cacy greatly relished by our British ploughboys at pig- 
 killing time, but rather too rich in pork-fat to supply a 
 suitable meal for people of sedentary vocations. 
 
 The action of heat thus applied and long-continued 
 is similar to that of the strong sulphuric acid. The im- 
 purities of the fat are organic matters more easily de- 
 composable than the fat itself, or otherwise stated, they 
 are dissociated into carbon and water at about 300° 
 Fahr., which is a lower temperature than that required 
 for the dissociation of the pure oil or fat. By maintain- 
 ing this temperature, these compounds become first 
 caramelised, then carbonised nearly to blackness, when 
 all their powers of offensiveness vanish. 
 
 In the more violent factory process of purification 
 by sulphuric acid the similar action which occurs is due 
 to the powerful affinity of this acid for water: this may 
 be strikingly shown by adding to thick syrup or pounded 
 sugar about its own bulk of oil of vitriol, when a mar- 
 vellous commotion occurs, and a magnified black cinder 
 is produced by the separation of the water from the 
 sugar. 
 
io4 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 The following simple practical formula may be re- 
 duced from these data. When a considerable quantity 
 of much-used frying-fat is accumulated, heat it to about 
 300° Fahr., as indicated by the crackling of water 
 when sprinkled on it, or, better still, by a properly- 
 constructed thermometer. Then pour the melted fat 
 on hot water. This must be done carefully, as a large 
 quantity of fat at 300° poured upon a small quan- 
 tity of boiling water will illustrate the fact that water 
 when suddenly heated is an explosive compound. The 
 quantity of water should exceed that of the fat, and the 
 pouring be done gradually. Then agitate the fat and 
 water together, and, if the operator is sufficiently skilful 
 and intelligent, the purification may be carried further 
 by carefully boiling the water under the fat and allow- 
 ing its steam to pass through ; but this is a little dan- 
 gerous, on account of the possibility of what the practical 
 chemist calls ‘bumping,’ or the sudden formation of a 
 big bubble of steam that would kick a good deal of the 
 superabundant fat into the fire. 
 
 Whether this supplementary boiling is carried out or 
 not, the fat and the water should be left together to cool 
 gradually, when a dark layer of carbonised impurities 
 will be found resting on the surface of the water, and 
 adhering to the bottom of the cake of fat. This may be 
 peeled off and put into the waste grease-pot to be further 
 refined with the next operation. Ultimately the worst 
 of it will sink to the bottom of the water. 
 
 A careful cook may keep the supply of frying fat 
 continually good, by simply pouring it into a basin (a 
 deep pudding-basin with small area at bottom is best), 
 letting it solidify there, and then paring away the bottom 
 sediment. Even this dirty-looking sediment need not 
 
FRYING. . 105 
 
 be altogether wasted. When a considerable quantity 
 has accumulated it may be purified by the method of 
 Dubrunfaut and Fua above described. 
 
 As ordinary thermometers register but little above 
 212°, and laboratory thermometers are too delicately 
 constructed for kitchen use, I requested Messrs. Davis 
 & Co. to construct a special thermometer for testing the 
 temperature of heated fat. They have accordingly 
 made an instrument that answers the purpose very well. 
 It is like a laboratory thermometer, ze. a glass tube with 
 long bulb and the degrees engraved on the glass itself, 
 but the bulb is turned at right angles to the tube, so that 
 it is horizontal when the tube stands perpendicular, and 
 lies under a stand just above the level of the bottom of 
 the kettle. The instrument thus stands alone firmly, with 
 its bulb fully immersed even in a very shallow bath of fat. 
 
 Gouffé says: ‘Fat is the best for frying; the light- 
 coloured dripping of roast meat, and the fat taken off 
 broth are to be preferred. These failing, beef suet, 
 chopped fine and melted down on a slow fire, without 
 browning, will do very well ; when the bottom of the stew- 
 pan can be seen through the suet, it is sufficiently melted.’ 
 He is no advocate for lard, ‘as it always leaves an unplea- 
 sant coating of fat on whatever is fried init.’ Olive oil of 
 the best quality is almost absolutely tasteless, and having 
 as high a boiling point as animal fats it is the best of 
 all frying media. In this country there is a prejudice 
 against the use of such oil. I have noticed at some of 
 those humble but most useful establishments where poor 
 people are supplied with penny or twopenny portions of 
 well-cooked, good fish, that in the front is an inscription 
 stating ‘only the best beef-dripping is used in this esta- 
 blishment.’ This means a repudiation of oil. 
 
106 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 On my first visit to Arctic Norway I arrived before 
 the garnering and exportation of the spring cod harvest 
 was completed. The packet stopped at a score or so of 
 stations on the Lofodens and the mainland. Foggy 
 weather was no impediment, as an experienced pilot free 
 from catarrh could steer direct to the harbour by ‘follow- 
 ing his nose.’ Huge cauldrons stood by the shore in 
 which were stewing the last batches of the livers of cod- 
 fish caught a month before and exposed in the mean- 
 time to the continuous Arctic sunshine. Their condition 
 must be imagined, as I abstain from description of 
 details. The business then proceeding was the extrac- 
 tion of the oil from these livers. It is, of course, ‘cod- 
 liver oil, but is known commercially as ‘fish oil,’ or ‘ cod 
 oil’ That which is sold by our druggists as cod-liver 
 oil is described in Norway as ‘medicine oil,’ and though 
 prepared from the same raw material, is extracted in a 
 different manner. Only fresh livers are used for this, 
 and the best quality, the ‘cold-drawn’ oil, is obtained by 
 pressing the livers without stewing. Those who are un- 
 fortunately familiar with this carefully-prepared, highly- 
 refined product, know that the fishy flavour clings to it 
 so pertinaciously that all attempts to completely remove 
 it without decomposing the oil have failed. This being 
 the case, it is easily understood that the fish oil stewed 
 so crudely out of the putrid or semi-putrid livers must 
 be nauseous indeed. It is nevertheless used by some of 
 the fish-fryers, and refuse ‘Gallipoli’ (olive oil of the 
 worst quality) is sold for this purpose. The oil obtained 
 in the course of salting sardines, herrings, &c., is also 
 used. , 
 Such being the case, it is not surprising that the use 
 of oil for frying should, like the oil itself, be in bad 
 odour. 
 
 oT 
 
 —— = 
 
FRYING. : 107 
 
 I dwell upon this because we are probably on what, 
 if a fine writer, I should call the ‘eve of a great revolu- 
 tion’ in respect to frying media. 
 
 Two new materials, pure, tasteless, and so cheap as 
 -to be capable of pushing pig-fat (lard) out of the market, 
 have recently been introduced. These are cotton-seed 
 oil and poppy-seed oil. The first has been for some 
 time in the market offered for sale under various fictitious 
 names, which I will not reveal, as I refuse to become a 
 medium for the advertisement of anything —however good 
 in itself—that is sold under false pretences. 
 
 As every bale of cotton yields half a ton of seed, and 
 every ton of seed may be made to yield 28 lbs. to 32 lbs. 
 of crude oil, the available quantity is very great. At 
 present only a small quantity is made, the surplus seed 
 being used as manure. Its fertilising value would not 
 be diminished by removing the oil, which is only a 
 hydro-carbon, ze. material supplied by air and water. 
 All the fertilising constituents of the seed are left behind 
 in the oil-cake from which the oil has been pressed. 
 
 Hitherto cotton-seed oil has fallen among thieves. 
 It is used as an adulterant of olive oil ; sardines and pil- 
 _chards are packed init. The sardine trade has declined 
 lately, some say from deficient supplies of the fish. I 
 suspect that there has been a decline in the demand due 
 to the substitution of this oil for that of the olive. Many 
 people who formerly enjoyed sardines no longer care for 
 them, and they do not know why. The substitution of 
 cotton-seed oil explains this in most cases. It is not 
 rancid, has no decided flavour, but still is unpleasant 
 when eaten raw, as with salads or sardines. It has a 
 flat, cold character, and an after taste that is faintly 
 suggestive of castor oil; but faint as it is, it interferes 
 with the demand for a purely luxurious article of food. 
 
108 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE. 
 
 This delicate defect is quite inappreciable in the results 
 of its use as a frying medium. The very best lard or 
 ordinary kitchen butter, eaten cold, has more of objec- 
 tionable flavour than refined cotton-seed oil. 
 
 I have not tasted poppy-seed oil, but am told that it 
 is similar to that from the cotton-seed. As regards the 
 quantities available, some idea may be formed by pluck- 
 ing a ripe head from a garden poppy and shaking out 
 the little round seeds through the windows on the top. 
 Those who have not tried this will be astonished at 
 the numbers produced by each flower. As poppies are 
 largely cultivated for the production of opium, and the 
 yield of the drug itself by each plant is very small, the 
 supplies of oil may be considerable ; 571,542 cwt. of seeds 
 were exported from India last year, of which 346,031 
 cwt. went to France. 
 
 Palm oil, though at present practically unknown in 
 the kitchen, may easily become an esteemed material for 
 the frying-kettle. At present, the familiar uses of palm 
 oil in candle-making and for railway grease will cause 
 my suggestion to shock the nerves of many delicate 
 people, but these should remember that before palm oil 
 was imported at all, the material from which candles 
 and soap were made, and by which cart wheels and 
 heavy machinery were greased, was tallow—ze. the fat 
 of mutton and beef. The reason why our grandmothers 
 did not use candles for frying when short of dripping or 
 suet was that the mutton fat constituting the candle was 
 impure, so are the yellow candles and yellow grease in the 
 axle-boxes of the railway carriages. This vegetable fat 
 is quite as inoffensive in itself, quite as wholesome, and 
 —sentimentally regarded—less objectionable, than the 
 fat obtained from the carcass of a slaughtered animal. 
 
 When common sense and true sentiment supplant 
 
FRYING. 109 
 
 mere unreasoning prejudice, vegetable oils and vege- 
 table fats will largely supplant those of animal origin 
 in every element of our dietary. We are but just 
 beginning to understand them. Chevreul, who was 
 the first to teach us the chemistry of facts, is still 
 living, and we are only learning how to make butter (not 
 ‘inferior Dorset, but ‘choice Normandy’) without the 
 aid of dairy produce. There is, therefore, good reason*for 
 anticipating that the inexhaustible supplies of oil obtain- 
 able from the vegetable world—especially from tropical 
 vegetation—will ere long be freely available for kitchen 
 uses, and the now popular product of the Chicago hog 
 factories will be altogether banished therefrom, and used 
 only for greasing cart-wheels and other machinery. 
 
 As a practical conclusion of this part of my subject, 
 I will quote from the ‘ Oil Trade Review’ of this month, 
 December 1884, the current wholesale prices of some of 
 the oils possibly available for frying purposes: olive oil, 
 from 434 to 90/4 per tun of 252 gallons ; cod oil, 362 per 
 tun ; sardine or train (ze. the oil that drains from pil- 
 chards, herrings, sardines, &c., when salted), 277. 10s. to 
 28/. per tun ; cocoanut, from 35/. to 38/. per ton of 20 
 _ewt. (This, in the case of oil, is nearly the same as the 
 measured tun.) Palm, from 38/ to 40/ Ios. per ton; 
 palm-nut or copra, 314 Ios. per ton; refined cotton- 
 seed, 30/. tos. to 31/4. per ton; lard, 537 to 552 per ton. 
 The above are the extreme ranges of each class. I have 
 not copied the technical names and prices of. the inter- 
 mediate varieties. One penny per |b. is = 9/ 6s. 8d. per 
 ton, or, in round numbers, 1/7 per ton may be reckoned 
 as 1-9th of a penny per lb. Thus the present price of 
 best refined cotton-seed oil is 34@. per lb.; of cocoanut 
 oil, 33¢.; palm oil, from 34a. to 44¢@, while lard costs 
 6d. per |b. wholesale. 
 
IIo THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 I should add, in reference to the seed-oils, that there 
 is a possible objection to their use as frying media. 
 Oils extracted from seeds contain more or less of /n0- 
 Jeine (so named from its abundance in linseed oil), which, 
 when exposed to the air, combines with oxygen, swells 
 and dries. If the oil from cotton-seed or poppy-seed con- 
 tains too much of this, it will thicken inconveniently when 
 kept for a length of time exposed to the air Palm oil 
 is practically free from it, but I am doubtful respecting 
 palm-nut oil, as most of the nut oils are ‘driers.’ 
 
 Extravagant cooks delude confiding mistresses by de- 
 manding butter for ordinary frying. A veneration for 
 costliness is one of the vulgar vices, especially dominant 
 below stairs. In many cases a worse motive induces the 
 denunciation of the dripping and skimmed fat recom- 
 mended by Gouffé as above, and the substitution of lard 
 or butter for it. This is the practice of selling the drip- 
 ping as ‘kitchen stuff’ 
 
rie 
 
 Piva litk VT, 
 
 STEWING. 
 
 SOME of my readers may think that I ought to have 
 treated this in connection with the boiling of meat, as 
 boiling and stewing are commonly regarded as mere 
 modifications of the same process. According to my 
 mode of regarding the subject, z.e. with reference to the 
 object to be attained, they are opposite processes. 
 
 The object in the so-called ‘ boiling’ of, say, a leg of 
 mutton, is to raise the temperature of the meat through- 
 out just up to the cooking temperature in such a manner 
 that it shall as nearly as possible retain all its juices; 
 the hot water merely operating as a vehicle or medium 
 for conveying the heat. 
 
 In stewing nearly all this is reversed. The juices 
 are to be extracted more or less completely, and the 
 water is required to act as a solvent as well as a heat- 
 conveyor. Instead of the meat itself surrounding and ~ 
 enveloping the juices as it should when boiled, roasted, 
 grilled, or fried, we demand in a stew that the juices 
 shall surround or envelop the meat. In some cases the 
 separation of the juices is the sole object, as in the pre- 
 paration of certain soups and gravies, of which ‘beef- 
 tea’ may be taken as a typical example. Lxtractum 
 carnis, or Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat’ is beef-tea (or 
 mutton-tea) concentrated by evaporation. 
 
 The juices of lean meat may be extracted very 
 
112 THE CHEMISTRY OF COG ae 
 
 by mincing it and then placing it in cold water. 
 Maceration is the proper name for this treatment. 
 The philosophy of this is interesting, and so little 
 understood in the kitchen that I must explain its rudi- 
 ments. 
 
 If two liquids capable of mixing together, but of 
 different densities, be placed in the same vessel, the 
 denser at the bottom, they will mix together in defiance 
 of gravitation, the heavy liquid rising and spreading 
 itself throughout the lighter, and the lighter descending 
 and diffusing itself through the heavier. 
 
 Thus, concentrated sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol) 
 which has nearly double the density of water, may be 
 placed under water by pouring water in a tall glass jar, 
 and then carefully pouring the acid down a funnel with 
 a long tube, the bottom end of which touches the 
 bottom of the jar. At first the heavy liquid pushes up 
 the lighter, and its upper surface may be distinctly seen 
 with that of the lighter resting upon it. This is better 
 shown if the water be coloured by a blue tincture of 
 litmus, which is reddened by the acid. A red stratum 
 indicates the boundaries of the two liquids. Gradually 
 the reddening proceeds upwards and downwards, the 
 whole of the water changes from blue to red, and the 
 acid becomes tinged. 
 
 Graham worked for many years upon the determina- 
 tion of the laws of this diffusion, and the rates at which 
 different liquids diffused into each other. His method 
 was to fill small jars of uniform size and shape (about 
 4 0z. capacity) with the saline or other dense solution, 
 place upon the ground mouth of the jar a plate-glass 
 cover, then immerse it, when filled, in a cylindrical glass 
 vessel containing about 20 oz. of distilled water, The 
 
 completely without cooking the meat at all, merely 
 
STEWING. 113 
 
 cover being very carefully removed, diffusion was 
 allowed to proceed for a given time, and then by 
 analysis the amount of transfer into the distilled water 
 -was determined. 
 
 I must resist the temptation to expound the very in- 
 teresting results of these researches, merely stating that 
 they prove this diffusion to be no mere accidental mixing, 
 but an action that proceeds with a regularity reducible 
 to simple mathematical laws. One curious fact I may 
 mention—viz. that on comparing the solutions of a 
 number of different salts, those which crystallise in the 
 same forms have similar rates of diffusion. The law 
 that bears the most directly upon cookery is that ‘the 
 quantity of any substance diffused from a solution of 
 uniform strength increases as the temperature rises.’ 
 The application of this will be seen presently. 
 
 It may be supposed that if the jar used in Graham’s 
 diffusion experiments were tied over with a mechanically 
 air-tight and water-tight membrane, the brine or other 
 saline solution thus confined in the jar could not diffuse 
 itself into the pure water above and around it; people 
 who are satisfied with anything that ‘stands to reason’ 
 would be quite sure that a bladder which resists the 
 passage of water, even when the water is pressed up to 
 the bursting-point, cannot be permeable to a most gentle 
 and spontaneous flow of the same water. The true 
 philosopher, however, never trusts to any reasoning, not 
 even mathematical demonstration, until its conclusions 
 are verified by observations and experiment. In this 
 case all rational preconceptions or mathematical calcula- 
 tions based upon the amount of attractive force exerted 
 between the particles of the different liquids are outraged 
 by the facts. 
 
 If a stout, well-tied bladder that would burst rather 
 
 I 
 
114 THE CHEMISTRY Of COOKEae. 
 
 than allow a drop of water to be squeezed mechanically 
 through it be partially filled with a solution of common 
 washing soda, and then immersed in distilled water, the 
 soda will make its way out of the bladder by passing 
 through its walls, and the pure water will go in at the 
 same time ; for if, after some time is allowed, the outer 
 water be tested by dipping into it a strip of red litmus 
 paper, it will be turned blue, showing the presence of the 
 alkali therein, and if the contents of the bladder be 
 weighed or measured, they will be found to have in- 
 creased by the inflow of fresh water. This inflow is 
 called exdosmosis, and the outflow of the solution is 
 called erosmosis. If an indiarubber bottle be filled 
 with water and immersed in alcohol or ether, the endos- 
 mosis of the spirit will be so powerfully exerted as to 
 distend the bottle considerably. If the bottle be filled 
 with alcohol or ether, and surrounded by water, it will 
 nearly empty itself. 
 
 The force exerted by this action is displayed by the 
 rising of the sap from the rootlets of a forest giant to the 
 cells of its topmost leaves. Not only plants, but animals 
 also, are complex osmotic machines. There is scarcely 
 any vital function—if any at all—in which this osmosis 
 does not play an important part. I have no doubt that 
 the mental effort I am at this moment exerting is largely 
 dependent upon the endosmosis and exosmosis that is 
 proceeding through the delicate membranes of some of 
 the many miles of blood-vessels that ramify throughout 
 the grey matter of my brain. 
 
 But I must wander no farther beyond the kitchen, 
 having already said enough to indicate that dzosmosts 
 (which is the general term used for expressing the actions 
 of endosmosis and exosmosis as they occur simulta- 
 neously) does the work of extracting the permanent 
 
STE WING. ts 
 
 juices of meat when it is immersed in either hot or cold 
 water. : 
 
 I say permanent juices with intent, in order to exclude 
 the albumen, which being coagulable at the lowest cook- 
 ing temperature is not permanent. It is one of that 
 class of bodies to which Graham gave the name of 
 colloids (glue-like), such as starch, dextrin, gum, &c., 
 to distinguish them from another class, the crystal- 
 loids, or bodies that crystallise on solidification. The 
 latter diffuse and pass through membranes by dios- 
 mosis readily, the colloids very sluggishly. Thus a 
 solution of Epsom salts diffuses seven times as rapidly 
 as albumen, and fourteen times as rapidly as caramel. 
 
 The difference is strikingly illustrated by the different 
 diffusibility of a solution of ordinary crystalline sugar 
 and that of barley-sugar and caramel, the latter being 
 amorphous or formless colloids that dry into a gummy 
 mass when their solutions are evaporated, instead of 
 forming crystals as the original sugar did. 
 
 Some of the juices of meat, as already explained, 
 exist between its fibres, others are within those fibres or 
 cells, enveloped in the sheath or cell membrane. It is 
 evident that the loose or free juices will be extracted by 
 simple diffusion, those enveloped in membranes by ex- 
 osmosis through the membrane. The result must be 
 the same in both cases ; the meat will be permeated by 
 the water, and the surrounding water will be permeated 
 by the juices that originally existed within the meat. 
 As the rate of diffusion—other conditions being equal— 
 is proportionate to the extent of the surfaces of the 
 diverse liquids that are exposed to each other, and as 
 the rate of diosmosis is similarly proportioned to the 
 exposure of membrane, it is evident that the cutting-up 
 of the meat will assist the extraction of its juices by the 
 
 I2 
 
116 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKER. 
 
 creation of fresh surfaces ; hence the well-known advan- 
 tage of mincing in the making of beef-tea. 
 
 It is interesting to observe the condition of lean 
 meat that has thus been minced and exposed for a few 
 hours to these actions by immersion in cold water. On 
 removing and straining such minced meat it will be 
 found to have lost its colour, and if it is now cooked it 
 is insipid, and even nauseous if eaten in any quantity. 
 It has been given to dogs and cats and pigs; these, 
 after eating a little, refuse to take more, and when sup- 
 plied with this juiceless meat alone, they languish, be- 
 come emaciated, and die of starvation if the experiment 
 is continued. Experiments of this kind contributed to 
 the fallacious conclusions of the French Academicians. 
 Although the meat from which the juices are thus com- 
 pletely extracted is quite worthless a/one, and meat from 
 which they are partially extracted is nearly worthless. 
 alone, either of them becomes valuable when eaten with 
 the juices. The stewed beef of the Frenchman would 
 deserve the contempt bestowed upon it by the preju- 
 diced Englishman if it were eaten as the Englishman 
 eats his roast beef; but when preceded by a potage con- 
 taining the juices of the beef it is quite as nutritious as 
 if roasted, and more easily digested. 
 
 Graham found that increase of temperature increases 
 the rate of diffusion of liquids, and in accordance with 
 this the extraction of the juices of meat is effected more 
 rapidly by warm than by cold water ; but there is a limit 
 to this advantage, as will be easily understood from 
 what has already been explained in Chapter III. con- 
 cerning the coagulation of albumen, which at the tem- 
 perature of 134° Fahr. begins to show signs of losing its 
 fluidity ; at 160° becomes a semi-opaque jelly; at the 
 boiling point of water is a rather tough solid; and if 
 
bab 8S 
 rs # 
 
 STEWING. 117 
 
 kept at this temperature, shrinks, and becomes harder 
 
 and harder, tougher and tougher, till it attains a con- 
 sistence comparable to that of horn tempered with gutta- 
 percha. 
 
 I have spoken of beef-tea, or Eatractum carnis 
 (Liebig’s ‘Extract of Meat’), as an extreme case of ex- 
 tracting the juices of meat, and must now explain the 
 difference between this and the juices of an ordinary 
 stew. Supposing the juices of the meat to be extracted 
 by maceration in cold water, and the broth thus obtained 
 to be heated in order to alter its raw flavour,a scum will 
 be seen to rise upon the surface; this is carefully re- 
 moved in the manufacture of Liebig’s ‘Extract,’ or in the 
 preparation of beef-tea for an invalid, but in thus skim- 
 ming we remove a highly-nutritious constituent—-viz. 
 the albumen, which has coagulated during the heating. 
 The pure beef-tea, or ELatractum carnzs, contains only 
 the kreatine, kreatinine, the soluble phosphates, the 
 lactic acid, and other non-coagulable saline constituents, 
 that are rather stimulating than nutritious, and which, 
 properly speaking, are not digested at all—ze. they are 
 not converted into chyme in the stomach, do not pass 
 through the pylorus into the duodenum, &c., but, instead 
 of this, their dilute solution passes, like the water we 
 drink, directly into the blood by endosmosis through the 
 delicate membrane of that marvellous network of micro- 
 scopic blood-vessels which is spread over the surface of 
 every one of the myriads of little upstanding filaments 
 which, by their aggregation, constitute the villous or 
 velvet coat of the stomach. In some states of prostra- 
 tion, where the blood is insufficiently supplied with 
 these juices, this endosmosis is like pouring new life into 
 the body, but it is not what is required for the normal 
 sustenance of the healthy body. : 
 
118 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 For ordinary food, all the nutritious constituents 
 should be retained, either in the meat itself or in its 
 liquid surrounding. Regarding it theoretically, I should 
 demand the retention of the albumen in the meat, and 
 insist upon its remaining there in the condition of tender 
 semi-solidity, corresponding to the white of an egg when 
 perfectly cooked, as described in page 22. Also that 
 the gelatin and fibrin be softened by sufficient digestion 
 in hot water, and that the saline juices (those constitut- 
 ing beef-tea) be partially extracted. I say ‘partially,’ be- 
 cause their complete extraction, as in the case of the 
 macerated minced-meat, would too completely rob the 
 meat of its sapidity. How, then, may these theoretical 
 desiderata be attained ? 
 
 It is evident from the principles already expounded 
 that cold extraction takes out the albumen, therefore 
 this must be avoided ; also that boiling water will harden 
 the albumen to leathery consistence. This may be 
 shown experimentally by subjecting an ordinary beef- 
 steak to the action of boiling water for about half an 
 hour. It will come out in the abominable condition too 
 often obtained by English cooks when they make an 
 attempt at stewing—an unknown art to the majority of 
 them. Such an ill-used morsel defies the efforts of ordi- 
 nary human jaws, and is curiously curled and distorted. 
 This toughening and curling is a result of the coagula- 
 tion, hardening, and shrinkage of the albumen as already 
 described. 
 
 It is evident, therefore, that neither cold water nor 
 boiling water should be used in stewing, but water at the 
 temperature at which albumen just begins to coagulate 
 —ze. about 134°, or between this and 160° as the ex- 
 treme. My definition of stewing demands a qualifica- 
 tion as regards the albumen, Although this is one of 
 
STE WING. : 119 
 
 the juices of the meat when cold, it should not be ex- 
 tracted in ordinary stewing, as it is in the maceration 
 for beef-tea, and thereby appear as a scum to be rejected. 
 It should be barely coagulated, and thus retained in the 
 meat in as tender a condition as possible. Being a col- 
 loid (see anze, page 115) its liability to diffusion is small. 
 But here we encounter a serious difficulty. How is the 
 unscientific cook to determine and maintain this tem- 
 perature? If you tell her that the water must not boil, 
 she shifts her stewpan to the side of the fire, where it 
 shall only simmer, and she firmly believes that such 
 simmering water has a lower temperature than water 
 that is boiling violently over the fire. ‘It stands to 
 reason’ that it must be so, and if the experimental 
 philosopher appeals to fact and the evidence of the 
 thermometer, he is a ‘ theorist.’ 
 
 The French cook escapes this simmering delusion by 
 her common use of the dazz-marie or ‘ water-bath,’ as 
 we call it in the laboratory, where it is also largely used 
 for ‘digesting’ at temperatures below 212°. This is 
 simply a vessel immersed in an outer vessel of water. 
 The water in the outer vessel may boil, but that in the 
 inner vessel cannot, as its evaporation keeps it below 
 the temperature of the water from which its heat is 
 derived. A carpenter’s glue-pot is a very good and 
 compact form of water-bath. Some ironmongers keep 
 in stock a form of water-bath which they call a ‘ milk- 
 scalder. This resembles the glue-pot, but has an inner 
 vessel of earthenware which is, of course, a great im- 
 provement upon the carpenter’s device, as it may be 
 so easily cleaned. Captain Warren’s, and other similar 
 ‘cooking-pots, may be used as water-baths by removing 
 the cover of the inner vessel. 
 
 One of the incidental advantages of the dain-marie is 
 
120 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK iia. 
 
 that the stewing may be performed in earthenware or 
 even glass vessels, seeing that they are not directly ex- 
 posed to the fire. Other forms of such double vessels 
 are obtainable at the best ironmongers. I have lately 
 seen a very neat apparatus of this kind, called ‘ Dolby’s 
 Extractor, made by Messrs. Griffiths & Browett of 
 Birmingham. This consists of an earthenware vessel 
 that rests on a ledge, and thus hangs in an outer tin- 
 plate vessel ; but, instead of water, there is an air space 
 surrounding the earthenware pot. A top screws over 
 this, and the whole stands in an ordinary saucepan of 
 water. The heat is thus very slowly and steadily com- 
 municated through an air-bath, and it makes excellent 
 beef-tea. 
 
 At temperatures Jelow the boiling point evaporation 
 proceeds superficially, and the rate of evaporation at a 
 given temperature is proportionate to the surface ex- 
 posed, irrespective of the total quantity of water ; there- 
 fore, the shallower the inner vessel of the dazuz-marie, 
 and the greater its upper outspread, the lower will be 
 the temperature of its liquid contents when its sides and 
 bottom are heated by boiling water. The water in a 
 basin-shaped inner vessel will have a lower temperature 
 than that in a vessel of similar depth, with upright sides, 
 and exposing an equal water surface. A good water- 
 bath for stewing may be extemporised by using a com- 
 mon pudding-basin (I mean one with projecting rim, 
 as used for tying down the pudding-cloth), and selecting 
 a saucepan just big enough for this to drop into, and 
 rest upon its rim. Put the meat, &c., to be stewed into 
 the basin, pour hot water over them, and hot water into 
 the saucepan, so that the basin shall be in a water-bath; 
 then let this outer water simmer—very gently, so as not 
 
 STEWING. 121 
 
 to jump the basin with its steam. Stew thus for about 
 double the time usually prescribed in English cookery- 
 books, and compare the result with similar materials 
 stewed in boiling or ‘simmering’ water. 
 
 I have already (page 91) referred to the frying that, 
 in most cases, should precede stewing. It not only 
 supplies the caramel browning there described, but mode- 
 rates the extraction of the juices which, as I have said 
 above, is desirable on the part of the meat itself when 
 gravy is not the primary object. 
 
 Some further explanation is here necessary, as it is 
 quite possible to obtain what commonly passes for ten- 
 derness by a very flagrant violation of the principles 
 above expounded. This is done on a large scale and in 
 extreme degree in the preparation of ordinary Australian 
 tinned meat. A number of tins are filled with the meat, 
 and soldered down close, all but a small pin-hole. They 
 are then placed in a bath charged with a saline sub- 
 stance, such as chloride of zinc, which has a higher 
 boiling point than water. This is heated up to its 
 boiling point, and consequently the water which is in 
 the tins with the meat boils vigorously, and a jet of © 
 steam mixed with air blows from the pin-hole. When 
 all the air is expelled, and the jet is of pure steam only 
 (a difference detected at once by the trained expert), 
 the tin is removed, and a little melted solder skilfully 
 dropped on the hole to seal the tin hermetically. An 
 - examination of one of these tins will show this final 
 soldering with, in some, a flap below to prevent any 
 solder from falling in amongst the meat. The object of 
 this is to exclude all air, for if only a very small quan- 
 tity remains, oxidation and putrefaction speedily ensues, 
 as shown by a bulging of the tins instead of the partial 
 
122 LHE CHEMISTRY OF COOLEY ae 
 
 collapse that should occur when the steam condenses, 
 the display of which collapse is an indication of the 
 good quality of the contents. 
 
 By ‘good quality ’ I mean good of its kind; but, as 
 everybody knows who has tried beef and mutton thus 
 prepared, it is not satisfactory. The preservation from 
 putrefactive decomposition is perfectly successful, and 
 all the original constituents of the meat are there. It 
 is apparently tender, but practically tough—z.e. it falls to 
 pieces at a mere touch of the knife, but these fragments 
 offer to the teeth a peculiar resistance to proper masti- 
 cation. I may describe their condition as one of per- 
 tinacious fibrosity. The fibres separate, but they are 
 stubborn fibres still. 
 
 This is a very serious matter, for, were it otherwise, 
 the great problem of supplying our dense population 
 with an abundance of cheap animal food would have 
 been solved about twenty years ago. As it is, the plain 
 tinned-meat enterprise has not developed to any impor- 
 tant extent beyond affording a variation with salt junk 
 on board ship. 
 
 What is the vatzonale of this defect? Beyond the 
 general statement that the meat is ‘overdone, I have 
 met with no attempt at explanation, but am not, there- 
 fore, disposed to give up the riddle without attempting 
 a solution. 
 
 Reverting to what I have already said concerning the 
 action of heat on the constituents of flesh, it is evident 
 that in the first place the long exposure to the boiling 
 point must harden the albumen. Syxtonzn, or muscle- 
 fibrin, the material of the ultimate contractile fibres of 
 the muscle, is coagulated by boiling water, and further 
 hardened by continuous boiling, in the same manner as 
 albumen. Thus the muscle-fibres themselves, and the 
 
STE WING. : 123 
 
 lubricating liquor! in which they are imbedded, must 
 be simultaneously toughened by the method above de- 
 scribed, and this explains the pertinacious fibrosity of 
 the result. 
 
 But how is the apparent tenderness, the facile sepa- 
 ration of the fibres of the same meat produced? A little 
 further examination of the anatomy and chemistry of 
 muscle will, I think, explain this quite satisfactorily. 
 The ultimate fibres of the muscles are enveloped ina 
 very delicate membrane ; a bundle of these is again enve- 
 loped in a somewhat stronger membrane (areolar tissue) ; 
 and a number of these bundles of fasczcult are further 
 enveloped in a proportionally stronger sheath of similar 
 membrane. All these binding membranes are mainly 
 composed of gelatin, or the substance which produces 
 gelatin when boiled. The boiling that is necessary to 
 drive out all the air from the tins is sufficient to dissolve 
 this, and effect that easy separability of the muscular 
 fibres, or fasciculi of fibres, that gives to such overcooked 
 meat its fictitious tenderness. 
 
 I am, however, doubtful whether a// the gelatin of 
 these membranes is thus dissolved. The jelly existing 
 in the tins shows that some is dissolved and hydrated, 
 if my theory of the cookery is right ; but there does not 
 appear to be as much of this jelly as would be formed 
 by the stewing of a corresponding quantity of meat at 
 a lower temperature. Some of the membranous gelatin 
 is, I suspect, dehydrated when the highest temperature 
 of the process is attained—ze. when the concentration 
 of the juices raises the boiling point of their solution 
 
 1 [ have ventured to ascribe this lubricating function to the albumen 
 which envelopes the fibres, though doubtful whether it is quite orthodox to 
 do so. Its identity in composition with the synovial liquor of the joints, 
 and the necessity for such lubricant, justify this supposition, It may act 
 as a nutrient fluid at the same time, 
 
124 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 considerably above that of pure water. This, if I am 
 right, would check further solution of the membrane, 
 would hydrate and harden the remainder, and thus 
 contribute to the hardening of the fibre above described. 
 
 I have entered into these anatomical and chemical 
 details because it is only by understanding them that 
 the difference between true tenderness and spurious 
 tenderness of stewed meat can be soundly understood, 
 especially in this country, where stewed meats are 
 despised because scientific stewing is. practically and 
 generally an unknown art. Ask an English cook the 
 difference between boiled beef or mutton and stewed 
 beef or mutton, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hun- 
 dred her reply will be to the effect that stewed meat is 
 that which has been boiled or simmered for a longer 
 time than the boiled meat. 
 
 She proceeds, in accordance with this definition, when 
 making an Irish stew or similar dish, by ‘simmering’ at 
 212° until, by the coagulation and hardening of the 
 albumen and syntonin, a leathery mass is obtained ; 
 then she continues the simmering until the gelatin 
 of the areolar tissue is partially dissolved, and the 
 toughened fibres separate or become readily separable. 
 Having achieved this disintegratiou, she supposes the 
 meat to be tender, the fact being that the fibres indi- 
 vidually are tougher than they were at the leathery 
 stage. The mischief is not limited to the destruction 
 of the flavour of the meat, but includes the destruction 
 of the nutritive value of its solid portion by rendering it 
 all indigestible, with the exception of the gelatin, which 
 is dissolved in the gravy. 
 
 This exception should be duly noted, inasmuch as it 
 is the one redeeming feature of such proceeding that 
 renders it fairly well adapted for the cookery of such 
 
STE WING. 126 
 
 meat as cow-heels, sheeps’-trotters, calves’-heads, shins 
 of beef, knuckles of veal, and other viands which consist 
 mainly of membranous, tendinous, or integumentary 
 matter composed of gelatin. To treat the prime parts 
 of good beef or mutton in this manner is to perpetrate a 
 domestic atrocity. 
 
 I may here mention an experiment that I have made 
 lately. I killed a superannuated hen—more than six 
 years old, but otherwise in very good condition. Cooked 
 in the ordinary way she would have been uneatably 
 tough. Instead of being thus cooked, she was gently 
 stewed about four hours. I cannot guarantee to the 
 maintenance of the theoretical temperature, having sus- 
 picion of some simmering. After this she was left in 
 the water until it cooled, and on the following day was 
 roasted in the usual manner—ze. in a roasting oven. 
 The result was excellent; as tender as a full-grown 
 chicken roasted in the ordinary way, and of quite equal 
 flavour, in spite of the very good broth obtained by the 
 preliminary stewing. This surprised me. I anticipated 
 the softening of the tendons and ligaments, but supposed 
 that the extraction of the juices would have spoiled the 
 flavour. It must have diluted it, and that so much 
 remained was probably due to the fact that an old fowl 
 is more fully flavoured than a young chicken. The 
 usual farmhouse method of cooking old hens is to stew 
 them simply, the rule in the Midlands being one hour in 
 the pot for every year of age. The feature of the above 
 experiment was the supplementary roasting. As the 
 laying season comes to an end, old hens become a drug 
 in the market; and those among my readers who have 
 not a hen-roost of their own will much oblige their poul- 
 terers by ordering a hen that is warranted to be four 
 years old or upwards. If he deals fairly he will supply a 
 
126 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 specimen upon which they may repeat my experiment 
 very cheaply. It offers the double economy of utilising 
 a nearly waste product,and obtaining chicken-broth and 
 roast fowl simultaneously. 
 
 Another experiment on the cooking of old hens was 
 recently made by a neighbour at my suggestion, and 
 proved very successful. The bird was cut up and gently 
 stewed in fat like the small joints of my experiments 
 described in p. 57. 
 
 I have not yet repeated this experiment, but when I 
 do shall use bacon liquor (the surplus fat from grilled ~ 
 bacon) for the bath, and hope thereby to obtain an 
 approach to the effect of ‘larding,’ as practised in 
 luxurious cookery. 
 
 One of the great advantages of stewing is that it 
 affords a means of obtaining a savoury and very whole- 
 some dish at a minimum of cost. A small piece of meat 
 may be stewed with a large quantity of vegetables, the 
 juice of the meat savouring the whole. Besides this, it 
 costs far less fuel than roasting. 
 
 The wife of the French or Swiss landed proprietor— 
 z.¢. a working peasant—cooks the family dinner with less 
 than a tenth of the expenditure of fuel used in England 
 for the preparation of an inferior meal. A little charcoal 
 under her dazz-marie does it all. ‘The economy of time 
 corresponds to the economy of fuel, for the mixture of 
 viands required for the stew once put into the pot is 
 left to itself until dinner-time, or at most an occasional 
 stirring of fresh charcoal into the embers is all that is 
 demanded. 
 
127 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CHEESE. 
 
 1 NOW come to a very important constituent of animal 
 food, although it is not contained in beef, mutton, pork, 
 poultry, game, fish, or any other organised animal sub- 
 stance, unless in egg yolk, as Lehmann states (see page 
 23). It is not even proved satisfactorily to exist in the 
 blood, although it is somehow obtained from the blood 
 by special glands at certain periods. I refer to casezn, the 
 substantial basis of cheese, which, as everybody knows, 
 is the consolidated curd of milk. 
 
 It is evident at once that casein must exist in two 
 forms, the soluble and insoluble, so far as the common 
 solvent, water, is concerned. It exists in the soluble 
 form, and completely dissolved in milk, and insoluble in 
 cheese. When precipitated in its insoluble or coagulated 
 form as the curd of new milk it carries with it the fatty 
 matter or cream, and therefore, in order to study its pro- 
 perties in a state of purity, we must obtain it otherwise. 
 This may be done by allowing the fat globules of the 
 milk to float to the surface, and then removing them by 
 separating the cream as by the ordinary dairy method. 
 We thus obtain in the skimmed milk a solution of casein, 
 but there still remains some of the fat. This may be 
 removed by evaporating the solution down to solidity, 
 and then dissolving out the fat by means of ether, which 
 
- 
 
 128 THE CHEMISTRY-OF COOKER. 
 
 leaves the soluble casein behind. The adhering ether 
 being evaporated, we have a fairly pure specimen of 
 casein in its original or soluble form. 
 
 This, when dry, is an amber-coloured translucent 
 substance, devoid of odour, and insipid. The insipidity 
 and absence of odour of the pure and separated casein are 
 noteworthy, as showing that the condition in which it 
 exists in milk is very different from that of the casein 
 of cheese. My object in pointing this out is to snow 
 that in the course of the manufacture of cheese new pro- 
 perties are developed. Skim milk—a solution of casein 
 —is tasteless and inodorous, while fresh cheese, whether 
 made from skimmed or whole milk, has a very decided 
 flavour and odour. . 
 
 If we now add some of our dry casein to water, it 
 dissolves, forming a yellowish viscid fluid, which, on 
 evaporation, becomes covered with a slight film of in- 
 soluble casein, which may be readily drawn off. Some 
 of my readers will recognise in this description the re- 
 semblance of a now well-known domestic preparation of 
 soluble casein, condensed milk, where it is mixed with 
 much cream, and in the ordinary preparation also much 
 sugar. The cream dilutes the yellowness, but does not 
 quite mask it, and the viscidity is shown by the strings 
 which follow the spoon when a spoonful is lifted: If a 
 concentrated solution of pure casein is exposed to the air it 
 rapidly putrefies, and passes through a series of changes 
 that I must not tarry to describe, beyond stating that 
 ammonia is given off, and some crystalline substances, 
 such as leucine, tyrosine, &c., very interesting to the 
 physiological chemist, but not important in the kitchen, 
 are formed. 
 
 A solution of casein in water is not coagulated by boil- 
 ing ; it may be repeatedly evaporated to dryness and 
 
CHEESE, 129 
 
 redissolved. Upon this depends the practicability of 
 preserving milk by evaporating it down, or ‘condensing.’ 
 
 This condensed milk, however, loses a little; its al- 
 bumen is sacrificed, as everybody will understand who 
 has dipped a spoon in freshly-boiled milk and observed 
 the skin which the spoon removes | from the surface. 
 This is coagulated albumen. 
 
 If alcohol is added to a concentrated solution of 
 casein in water, a pseudo-coagulation occurs ; the casein is 
 precipitated as a white substance like coagulated albumen, 
 but if only a little alcohol is used, the solid may be re- 
 dissolved in water ; if, however, it is thus’ treated with 
 strong alcohol, the casein becomes difficult of solution, 
 or even quite insoluble. Alcohol added to solid soluble 
 casein renders it opaque, and gives it the appearance of 
 coagulated albumen. Thealcohol itself dissolves a little 
 of this. | 
 
 The characteristic Pee of casein, or its con- 
 version from the soluble to the insoluble form, is pro- 
 duced rather mysteriously by rennet. Acids generally 
 precipitate it either from aqueous solution or from milk. 
 The coagulation effected by mineral acids from aqueous 
 solutions is not so complete as that produced by lactic 
 acid or vinegar from milk, the former coagulum being 
 more readily redissolved by alkalies or weaker basic sub- 
 stances than the latter. 
 
 A calf has four stomachs, the fourth being that which 
 corresponds to ours, both in structure and functions. It 
 is lined with a membrane from which is secreted the 
 gastric juice and other fluids concerned in effecting the 
 conversion of food into chyme. A weak infusion made 
 from a small piece of this ‘mucous membrane’ will 
 coagulate the casein of three thousand times its own 
 quantity of milk, or the coagulation may be effected by 
 
 i 
 
130 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKER, 
 
 placing a small piece of the stomach (usually salted and 
 dried for the purpose) in the milk, and warming it for a 
 few hours. 
 
 Many theoretical attempts have been made to explain 
 this action of the rennet. Simon and Liebig suppose 
 that it acts primarily as a ferment, converting the sugar 
 of milk into lactic acid, and that this lactic acid coagu- 
 lates the casein. This theory has been controverted by 
 Selmi and others, but the balance of evidence is decidedly 
 in its favour. The coagulation which occurs in the 
 living stomach when milk is taken as food appears to be 
 due to the lactic acid of the gastric juice. 
 
 Casein, when thoroughly coagulated by rennet, then 
 purified and dried, is a hard and yellowish hornlike 
 substance. It softens and swells in water, but does not 
 dissolve therein, nor in alcohol nor weak acids. Strong 
 mineral acids decomposeit. Alkalies dissolve it readily, 
 and if concentrated, decompose it on the application of 
 heat. When moderately heated, it softens and may be 
 drawn into threads, and becomes elastic; at a higher 
 temperature it fuses, swells up, carbonises, and develops . 
 nearly the same products of distillation as the other 
 protein compounds. 
 
 Note the differences between this and the soluble 
 casein above described, viz. that obtained by simply re- 
 moving the fat from the milk, then evaporating away the 
 water, but using no rennet. 
 
 I have good and sufficient reasons for thus specify- 
 ing the properties of this constituent of food. I regard 
 it as the most important of all that I have to describe in 
 connection with my subject-—the science of cookery. It 
 contains (as I shall presently show) more nutritious ma- 
 terial than any other food that is ordinarily obtainable, 
 and its cookery is singularly neglected, is practically an 
 
CHEESE. 131 
 
 unknown art, especially in this country. We commonly 
 eat it raw, although in its raw state it is peculiarly indi- 
 gestible, and in the only cooked form familiarly known 
 among us here, that of a Welsh rabbit, or rarebit, it is too 
 often rendered still more indigestible, though this need 
 not be the case. 
 
 Here, in this densely-populated country, where we 
 import so much of our food, cheese demands our most 
 profound attention. The difficulties and cost of import- 
 ing all kinds of meat, fish, and poultry are great, while 
 cheese may be cheaply and deliberately brought to us 
 from any part of the world where cows or goats can be 
 fed, and it can be stored more readily and kept longer 
 _ than other kinds of animal food. All that is required to 
 render it, next to bread, the staple food of Britons is 
 scientific cookery. 
 
 If I shall be able, in what is to follow, to impart to 
 my fellow-countrymen, and more especially country- 
 women, my own convictions concerning the cookability, 
 and consequent improved digestibility, of cheese, I shall 
 have ‘done the State some service !’ 
 
 Taking muscular fibre without bone—ze. selected 
 best part of the meat—beef contains on an average 724 
 per cent. of water; mutton, 734; veal, 744; pork, 693 ; 
 fowl, 732; while Cheshire cheese contains only 303, and 
 other cheeses about the same. Thus, at starting, we 
 have in every pound of cheese rather more than twice 
 as much solid food as in a pound of the best meat, or 
 comparing with the average of the whole carcass, in- 
 cluding bone, tendons, &c., the cheese has an advantage 
 of three to one. 
 
 The following results of Mulder’s analysis of casein, 
 
 when compared with those by the same chemist of 
 K 2 
 
132 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE 
 
 albumen, gelatin and fibrin, show that there is but 
 little difference in the ultimate chemical composition 
 of these, so far as the constituents there named are 
 concerned : 
 
 Casein 
 
 Carbon . . ; : . « 53553 
 
 Hydrogen 2 . , . so) FTES 
 
 Nitrogen . : 3 Z s - 15°65 
 
 Oxygen : 
 
 Sulphur : ; 23°37 
 Albumen Gelatin Fibrin 
 Carbon . ; ; » 53°5 50°40 52°7 
 Hydrogen . ; : 7h 6°64 6'9 
 Nitrogen . : : put ists 18°34 15°4 
 Oxygen ‘ ° ; of 22°68 24°62 235 
 Sulphur : : : 2 ASO . 1°2 
 Phosphorus . : : Os - o*s 
 
 We may therefore conclude that, regarding these 
 from the point of view of nitrogenous or flesh-forming, 
 and carbonaceous or heat-giving constituents, these 
 chief materials of flesh and of cheese are about equal. 
 
 The same is the case as regards themiatsee 
 quantity in the carcass of oxcn, calves, sheep, lambs, 
 and pigs varies, according to Dr. Edward Smith, from 
 16 per cent. to 31°3 per cent. in) moderely stan -o 
 animals; while in whole-milk cheeses it varies from 21°68 
 per cent. to 32°31 per cent. coming down in skim-milk 
 cheeses as low as 63. Dr. Smith includes Neufchatel 
 cheese, containing 18°74 per cent., among the whole-milk 
 cheeses. He does not seem to be aware that the cheese 
 made up between straws and sold under that name is a 
 ricotta, or crude curd of skim-milk cheese. Its just 
 value is about threepence per pound. In Italy, where it 
 forms the basis of some delicious dishes (such as dudzno 
 
CHEESE. 1: 
 
 adi ricotta‘), it is sold for about twopence per pound, or 
 less. 
 
 There is a discrepancy in the published analyses of 
 casein which demands explanation here, as it is of great 
 practical importance. They generally correspond to the 
 above of Mulder within small fractions, as shown below 
 in those of Scherer and Dumas: 
 
 Scherer Dumas 
 Carbon . ° . : . - 54°665 53°7 
 Ilydrogen ? 5 ° . pee TADS 2 
 Nitrogen . . : ‘ ° S724 16°6 
 
 Oxygen, sulphur .j| . . an 22-840 22° 
 100°000 ~=—- 1000 
 
 In these the 100 parts are made up without any phos- 
 phate of lime, while, according to Lehmann (‘ Physio- 
 ‘logical Chemistry, vol. i. p. 379, Cavendish Edition), 
 ‘casein that has not been treated with acids contains 
 about 6 per cent. of phosphate of lime; more, conse- 
 quently, than is contained in any of the protein com- 
 pounds we have hitherto considered.’ 
 
 From this it appears that we may have casein with, 
 and casein without, this necessary constituent of food. 
 In precipitating casein for laboratory analysis, acids are 
 commonly used, and thus the phosphate of lime is dis- 
 solved out; but I am unable at present to tell my 
 readers the precise extent to which this actually occurs 
 in practical cheese-making where rennet is used. What 
 I have at present learned only indicates generally that 
 this constituent of cheese is very variable; and I hereby 
 suggest to those chemists who are professionally con- 
 
 1 T am greatly disgusted with the cookery-books, especially the pre- 
 tentious volume of Francatelli’s, on being unable to find any recipe for 
 this delicious Italian dish, and a similar absence of a dozen or two of 
 
 equally common and excellent preparations familiar to all who have dined 
 at the Lepre (Rome), or other good Italian restaurants, 
 
134 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE 
 
 cerned in the analysis of food, that they may supply a 
 valuable contribution to our knowledge of this subject by 
 simply determining the phosphate of lime contained in the 
 ash of different kinds of cheese. I would do this myself, 
 but, having during some ten years past nearly forsaken the 
 laboratory for the writing-table, I have not the leisure for 
 such work; and, worse still, have not that prime essential 
 to practical research (especially of endowed research), a - 
 staff of obedient assistants to do the drudgery. 
 
 The comparison specially demanded is between 
 cheeses made with rennet, and those Dutch and factory 
 cheeses the curd of which has been precipitated by 
 hydrochloric acid. ‘Theoretical considerations point to 
 the conclusion that in the latter much or even all of the 
 phosphate of lime may be left in solution in the whey, 
 and thus the food-value of the cheese seriously lowered. 
 We must, however, suspend judgment in the meantime. 
 
 In comparing the nutritive value of cheese with that 
 of flesh, the retention of this phosphate of lime corre- 
 sponds with the retention of some of the juices of the 
 meat, among which are the phosphates of the flesh. 
 
 These phosphates of lime are the bone-making 
 material of food, and have something to do in building 
 up the brain and nervous matter, though not to the 
 extent that is supposed by those who imagine that there 
 is a special connection between phosphorus and the 
 brain, or phosphorescence and spirituality. Bone contains 
 about eleven per cent. of phosphorus, brain less than 
 ONG Der cent 
 
 The value of food in reference to its phosphate of 
 lime is not merely a matter of percentage, as this salt 
 may exist in a state of solution, as in milk, or as a solid 
 very difficult of assimilation, as in bones. That retained 
 in cheese is probably in an intermediate condition—not 
 
CHEESE. 135 
 
 actually in solution, but so finely divided as to be readily 
 dissolved by the acid of the gastric juice. 
 
 I may mention, in reference to this, that when a 
 child or other young animal takes its natural food in 
 the form of milk, the milk is converted into unpressed 
 cheese, or curd, prior to its digestion. 
 
 Supposing that, on an average, cheese contains only 
 one-half of the 6 per cent. of phosphate of lime found, 
 as above, in the casein, and taking into considera- 
 tion the water contained in flesh, the bone, &c., we may 
 conclude generally that one pound of average cheese 
 contains as much nutriment as three pounds of the 
 average material of the carcass of an ox or sheep as 
 prepared for sale by the butcher ; or otherwise stated, a 
 cheese of 20 lbs. weight contains as much food as a sheep 
 weighing 60 lbs. as it hangs in the butcher’s shop. 
 
 Now comes the practical question. Can we assimi- 
 late or convert into our own substance the cheese-food 
 as easily as we may the flesh-food? 
 
 I reply that we certainly cannot, if the cheese is eaten 
 raw ; but have no doubt that we may, if it be suitably 
 cooked. Hence the paramount importance of this part 
 of my subject. A Swiss or Scandinavian mountaineer 
 can and does digest and assimilate raw cheese as a staple 
 article of food, and proves its nutritive value by the re- 
 sult ; but feebler bipeds of the plains and towns cannot 
 do the like. 
 
 I may here mention that I] have recently made some 
 experiments on the dissolving of cheese by adding 
 sufficient alkali (carbonate of potash) to neutralise the 
 acid it contains, in order to convert the casein into its 
 original soluble form as it existed in the milk, and have 
 partially succeeded both with water and milk as sol- 
 vents ; but before reporting these results in detail I will 
 
136 THE CHEMISTRY: OF COCKE. 
 
 describe some of the practically-established methods of 
 ~ cooking cheese that are so curiously unknown or little 
 known in this country. 
 
 In the fatherland of my grandfather, Louis Gabriel 
 Mattieu, one of the commonest dishes of the peasant 
 who tills his own freehold and grows his own food is a 
 fondu. This is a mixture of cheese and eggs, the cheese 
 grated and beaten into the egg as in making omelettes, 
 with a small addition of new milk or butter. It is 
 placed in a little pan like a flower-pot saucer, cooked 
 gently, served as it comes off the fire, and eaten from 
 the vessel in which it is cooked. I have made many a 
 hearty dinner on one of these, A/zs a lump of black bread 
 and a small bottle of genuine but thin wine ; the cost of 
 the whole banquet at a little auderge being usually less 
 than sixpence. The cheese is in a pasty condition, and 
 partly dissolved in the milk or butter. I have tested 
 the sustaining power of such a meal by doing some very 
 stiff mountain climbing and long fasting after it. It is 
 rather too good—over nutritious—for a man only doing 
 sedentary work. 
 
 A diluted and delicate modification of this may be 
 made by taking slices of bread, or bread and butter, 
 soaking them in a batter made of eggs and milk—with- 
 out flour—then placing the slices of soaked bread in a 
 pie-dish, covering each with a thick coating of grated 
 cheese, and thus building up a stratified deposit to fill 
 the dish. The surplus batter may be poured over the 
 top; or if time is allowed for saturation, the trouble of 
 preliminary soaking may be saved by simply pouring all 
 the batter thus. This, when gently baked, supplies a 
 delicious and highly nutritious dish. We call it ‘cheese 
 pudding’ at home, but my own experience convinces me 
 that we make a mistake in using it to supplement the ~ 
 
0 9 Wy Fad Oe 137 
 
 joint. It is far too nutritious for this; its savoury 
 ‘character tempts one to eat it so freely that it would be 
 far wiser to use it as the Swiss peasant uses his fondu 
 —7.¢. as the substantial dish of a wholesome dinner. 
 
 I have tested its digestibility by eating it heartily for 
 supper. No nightmare has followed. If I sup on a 
 corresponding quantity of raw cheese my sleep is miser- 
 ably eventful. 
 
 A correspondent writes as follows from the Charlotte 
 Square Young Ladies’ Institution: ‘I have been trying 
 the various ways of cooking cheese mentioned in your 
 articles in “ Knowledge,” and have one or two improve- 
 ments to suggest in the making of cheese pudding. I 
 find the result is much better when the bread is grated 
 like the cheese, and thoroughly mixed with it ; then the 
 batter poured over both. I think you will also find it 
 better when baked in a shallow tin, such as is used for 
 Yorkshire pudding. ‘This gives more of the browned 
 surface, which is the best of it. Another improvement. 
 is to put some of the crumbled bread (on paper) in the 
 oven till brown, and eat with it (as for game). I have 
 not succeeded in making any improvement in the 
 Jondu (see page 139), which is delightful.’ 
 
 My recollections of the fondu of the Swiss peasant 
 being so eminently satisfactory on all points—nutritive 
 or sustaining value, appetising flavour and economy—I 
 have sought for a recipe in several cookery-books, and 
 find at last a near approach to it in an old edition of 
 Mrs. Rundell’s ‘ Domestic Cookery.’ A similar dish is 
 described in that useful book ‘Cre-Fydd’s Family Fare,’ 
 under the name of ‘ Cheese Soufflé or Fondu.' I had 
 
 1 Forty or fifty years ago these cheese foxdus were one of the usual 
 courses at many-course banquets, but now they are rarely found in the 
 menu of such dinners, ‘There is good reason for this. They are far too 
 
138 THE CHEMISTRY- OF COOKE ae. 
 
 looked for it in more pretentious works, especially in 
 the most pretentious and the most disappointing one I 
 have yet been tempted to purchase, viz. the 27th edition 
 of Francatelli’s ‘Modern Cook,’ a work which I cannot 
 recommend to anybody who has less than 20,000/ a 
 year and a corresponding luxury of liver. 
 
 Amidst all the culinary monstrosities of these ‘ high- 
 class’ manuals, I fail to find anything concerning the 
 cookery of cheese that is worth the attention of my 
 readers, Francatelli has, under the name of ‘ Eggs a la 
 Suisse, a sort of fondu, but decidedly inferior to the 
 common /foudu of the humble Swiss osteria, as Franca- 
 telli lays the eggs upon slices of cheese, and prescribes 
 especially that the yolks shall not be broken ; omits the 
 milk, but substitutes (for high-class extravagance’ sake, 
 I suppose) ‘a gill of double cream, to be poured over 
 the top. Thus the cheese is not intermingled with the 
 ege, lest it should spoil the appearance of the unbroken 
 yolks, its casein is made leathery instead of being dis- 
 solved, and the substitution of sixpenny worth of double 
 cream for a halfpenny worth of milk supplies the high- 
 class victim with fivepence halfpenny worth of biliary 
 derangement. 
 
 In Gouffée’s ‘Royal Cookery Book’ (the Household 
 Edition of which contains a great deal that is really 
 useful to an English housewife) I find a better recipe 
 under the name of ‘ Cheese Soufflés’ He says: ‘ Put two 
 ounces and a quarter of flour in a stewpan, with one 
 pint and a half of milk; season with salt and pepper ; 
 stew over the fire till boiling, and should there be any 
 lumps, strain the soug#é paste through a tammy cloth; 
 add seven ounces of grated Parmesan cheese, and seven 
 
 nutritious to be eaten with a dozen other things. Their proper use is to 
 substitute the joint in an ordinary respectable meal of meat and pudding. 
 
CHEESE: 139 
 
 yolks of eggs; whip the whites till they are firm, and 
 add them to the mixture; fill some paper cases with it, 
 and bake in the oven for fifteen minutes.’ 
 
 Cre-Fydd says: ‘Grate six ounces of rich cheese 
 (Parmesan is the best) ; put it into an enamelled sauce- 
 pan, with a teaspoonful of flour of mustard, a saltspoon- 
 ful of white pepper, a grain of cayenne, the sixth part of 
 a nutmeg, grated, two ounces of butter, two tablespoon- 
 fuls of baked flour, and a gill of new milk ; stir it over a 
 slow fire till it becomes like smooth, thick cream (but it 
 must not boil) ; add the well-beaten yolks of six eggs, 
 beat for ten minutes, then add the whites of the eggs 
 beaten to a stiff froth ; put the mixture into a tin or a 
 cardboard mould, and bake in a quick oven for twenty 
 minutes. Serve immediately.’ 
 
 Here is a true cookery of cheese by solution, and the 
 result is an excellent dish. But there is some unneces- 
 sary complication and kitchen pedantry involved. The 
 soufjié part of the business is a mere puffing up of the 
 mixture for the purpose of displaying the cleverness of 
 the cook, being quite useless to the consumer, as it sub- 
 sides before it can be eaten. It further involves prac- 
 tical mischief, as it cannot be obtained without toasting 
 the surface of the cheese into an air-tight leathery skin 
 that is abnormally indigestible. The following is my 
 own simplified recipe: 
 
 Take a quarter of a pound of grated cheese ; add it to 
 a gill of milk in which is dissolved as much powdered 
 bicarbonate of potash as will stand upon a threepenny- 
 piece ; mustard, pepper, &c.,as prescribed above by Cre- 
 Fydd.! Heat this carefully until the cheese is completely 
 
 1 Before the Adulteration Act was passed, mustard flour was usually 
 mixed with well-dried wheaten flour, whereby the redundant oil was 
 absorbed, and the mixture was a dry powder. Now it is different, being 
 
140 THE CHEMISTRY “OF - COOK Ease 
 
 dissolved. Then beat up three eggs, yolks and whites 
 together, and add them to this solution of cheese, stirring 
 the whole. Now take a shallow mctal or earthenware 
 dish or tray that will bear heating; puta little butter 
 on this, and heat the butter till it frizzles. Then pour 
 the mixture into the tray, and bake or fry it until it is 
 nearly solidified. 
 
 A cheaper dish may be made by increasing the 
 proportion of cheese — say, six to eight ounces to 
 three eggs, or only one egg to a quarter of a pound 
 of cheese for a hard-working man with powerful diges- 
 tion. 
 
 Mr. E. D. Girdlestone writes as follows (I quote with 
 permission): ‘As regards the “cheese /ozdu,” your 
 _recipe for which has enabled me to turn cheese to prac- 
 tical account as food, you may be glad to hear that it 
 has become a common dish in our microscopic ménage. 
 Indeed cheese, which formerly was poison to me, is now 
 alike pleasant and digestible. But some of your readers 
 may like to know that the addition of bread-crumbs is, 
 in my judgment at least, a great improvement, giving 
 ereater lightness to the compost, and removing the 
 harshness of flavour otherwise incidental to a mixture 
 which comprises so large a proportion of cheese. We 
 (my wife and I) think this a great improvement.’ 
 
 I have received two other letters making, quite inde- 
 pendently, the same suggestion concerning the bread- 
 crumbs. I have tried the addition, and agree with 
 Mr. Girdlestone that it is a great improvement as food 
 for such as ourselves, who are brain-workers, and for all 
 others whose occupations are at all sedentary. The 
 
 pure powdered mustard seed, and usually rather damp. It not only lies 
 closer, but is much stronger. Therefore, in following any recipe of old 
 cookery-books, only about half the stated quantity should be used, 
 
CHEESE. TAI 
 
 undiluted foxdu is too nutritious for us, though suitable 
 for the mountaineer. 
 
 The chief difficulty in preparing this dish conveniently 
 is that of obtaining suitable vessels for the final frying 
 or baking, as each portion should be poured into, and 
 fried or baked in, a separate dish, so that each may, as 
 in Switzerland, have his own /foxdu complete, and eat it 
 from the dish as it comes from the fire. As demand 
 creates supply, our ironmongers, &c., will soon learn to 
 meet this demand if it arises. I have written to Messrs. 
 Griffiths & Browett, of Birmingham, large manufacturers 
 of what is technically called ‘hollow ware ’—z.e. vessels 
 of all kinds knocked up from a single piece of metal with- 
 out any soldering—and they have made suitable fondu 
 dishes according to my specification, and supply them 
 to the shopkeepers. 
 
 The bicarbonate of potash is an original novelty that 
 will possibly alarm some of my non-chemical readers. 
 I advocate its use for two reasons: first, it effects a 
 better solution of the casein by neutralising the free 
 lactic acid that inevitably exists in milk supplied to 
 towns, and any free acid that may remain in the cheese. 
 At a farmhouse, where the milk is just drawn from the 
 cow, it is unnecessary for this purpose, as such new milk 
 is itself slightly alkaline. 
 
 My second reason is physiological, and of greater 
 weight. Salts of potash are necessary constituents of 
 human food. They exist in all kinds of wholesome 
 vegetables and fruits, and in the juices of /vesk meat, 
 but they ave wanting in cheese, having, on account of 
 their great solubility, been left behind in the whey. 
 
 This absence of potash appears to me to be the one 
 serious objection to the free use of cheese diet. The 
 Swiss peasant escapes the mischief by his abundant 
 
142 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKER, 
 
 salads, which eaten raw contain all their potash salts, 
 instead of leaving the greater part in the saucepan, as 
 do cabbages, &c., when cooked in boiling water, In 
 Norway, where salads are scarce, the bonder and his 
 housemen have at times suffered greatly from scurvy, 
 especially in the far north, and would be severely 
 victimised but for special remedies that they use (the 
 mottebeer, cranberry, &c., grown and preserved espe- 
 cially for the purpose). The Laplanders make a broth 
 of scurvy-grass and similar herbs ; I have watched them 
 gathering these, and observed that the wild celery was a 
 leading ingredient. 
 
 Scurvy on board ship results from eating salt meat, 
 the potash of which has escaped by exosmosis into the 
 brine or pickle. The sailor now escapes it by drinking 
 citrate of potash in the form of lime-juice, and by 
 alternating salt junk with rations of tinned meats. 
 
 I once lived for six days on bread and cheese only, 
 tasting no other food. I had, in company with C. M. 
 Clayton (son of the Senator of Delaware, who negotiated 
 the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty), taken a passage from Malta 
 to Athens in a little schooner, and expecting a three 
 days’ journey we took no other rations than a lump of 
 Cheshire cheese and a supply of bread. Bad weather 
 doubled the expected length of our journey. 
 
 We were both young, and proud of our hardihood in 
 bearing privations, were staunch disciples of Diogenes ; 
 but on the last day we succumbed, and bartered the 
 remainder of our bread and cheese for some of the 
 boiled horse-beans and cabbage-broth of the forecastle. | 
 The cheese, highly relished at first, had become posi- 
 tively nauseous, and our craving for the forecastle 
 vegetable broth was absurd, considering the full view we 
 had of its constituents and of the dirtiness of its cooks. 
 
CHEESE. 143 
 
 I attribute this to the lack of potash salts in the 
 cheese and bread. It was similar to the craving for 
 common salt by cattle that lack necessary chlorides in 
 their food. I am satisfied that cheese can never take 
 the place in an economic dietary, otherwise justified 
 by its nutritious composition, unless this deficiency of 
 potash is somehow supplied. My device of using it 
 with milk as a solvent supplies it in a simple and 
 natural manner. 
 
 The milk is not necessary, though preferable. I find 
 that a solution of cheese may be made in water by 
 simply grating or thinly slicing the cheese, and adding it 
 to about its own bulk of water in which the bicarbonate 
 of potash is dissolved. . 
 
 The proportion of bicarbonate, which I theoretically 
 estimate as demanded for supplying the deficiency of 
 _ potash, is at the rate of about a quarter of an ounce to 
 the pound of cheese; and I find that it will bear this 
 quantity without the flavour of the potash being detected. 
 The proportion of potash in cows’ milk is more than 
 double the quantity thus supplied, but I assume that 
 the cheese loses about half of its original supply, and 
 base this assumption on the fact that ordinary cheese 
 contains an average of about 4 per cent. of saline 
 matter, while the proportion of saline matter to the 
 casein and fat of the milk amounts to 5 per cent. 
 This is a rough practical estimate, kept rather below 
 the actual quantity demanded ; therefore more than the 
 quarter ounce may be used with impunity. I have 
 doubled it in some of my experiments, and thus have 
 just detected the bitter flavour of the salt. 
 
 As regards the solubility of the cheese, I should add 
 that there are great differences in different samples. 
 Generally speaking, the newer and milder the cheese 
 
144 LTHE CHEMISTRY OF COCK a 
 
 the more soluble. Some that I have tried leave a stub- 
 bornly insoluble residuum, which is detestably tough. 
 I found the same cheese to be unusually indigestible 
 when eaten with bread in the ordinary raw state, and 
 have reason to believe that it is what I have called 
 ‘bosch cheese,’ to be described presently. 
 
 The successful solution, in either alkalised milk or 
 alkalised water, cools into a custard-like mass, the thick- 
 ness or viscosity varying, of course, with the quantity of 
 solvent. It may be kept for use a short time (from two 
 or three days to two or three weeks, according to the 
 weather), after which it becomes putrescent. 
 
 As now well known to all concerned, a great deal of 
 ‘butterine, or ‘oleomargarine,’ or ‘margarine,’ or ‘ bosch,’ 
 is made by extracting from the waste fat of oxen and 
 sheep some of its harder constituents, the palmitic and 
 stearic acids, then working up the softer remainder with 
 a little milk, or even without the milk, into a resemblance 
 to butter. When properly prepared and honestly sold 
 for what it is, no fair grounds for objection exist ; but it 
 is too commonly sold for what it is not—z.e. as butter. 
 For cookery purposes a fair sample of ‘bosch’ is quite 
 as good as ‘inferior dosset.’ I have tasted some that is 
 scarcely distinguishable from best Devonshire fresh. 
 
 More recently this enterprise has been further de- 
 veloped. Genuine butter is made from cream skimmed 
 from the milk. The skimmed milk is then curdled, and 
 to the whey thus precipitated a sufficient quantity of 
 bosch is added to replace the butter that has been sent 
 to market. A still more objectionable compound is 
 made by using hogs’ lard as. a substitute for the natural 
 cream. ‘These extraneous fats render the cheese more 
 indigestible. The curd precipitated from skim milk is 
 harder and tougher than that thrown down from whole 
 
CHEESE. 145 
 
 mill, and these added fats merely envelop the broken 
 fragments of this. Hence my suspicion that the cheese 
 leaving the above-described insoluble residuum was a 
 sample of ‘bosch’ cheese. 
 
 Since the above was written I have met with the 
 following in the Zzmes, bringing the subject up to 
 latest date, and I take the liberty of reprinting the larger 
 part of this interesting and clearly-written communica- 
 tion: 
 
 ‘IMITATED DAIRY PRODUCTS. 
 
 ‘The profitable utilisation of refuse products has 
 always been one of the most difficult problems which 
 have confronted manufacturers. Until recently the dis- 
 posal of skim-milk was one of the difficulties of the 
 managers of butter factories, or “creameries” as they are 
 termed in the United States. Similarly, the sale of the 
 internal fat of animals slaughtered for food, with the 
 exception of lard, was practically restricted to the manu- 
 facturers of soap and candles. It was reserved to a 
 Frenchman, M. Mége-Mauries, to discover the first step 
 towards a more profitable use of these substances. He 
 showed that by a judicious combination of milk and the 
 clarified fat of animals a substance could be produced 
 which closely resembled butter. So close, indeed, is the 
 resemblance of imitation butter to the real article that 
 the skill of the chemist must be invoked to render detec- 
 tion positive, if the artificial butter is good of its kind. 
 So recondite, indeed, is the test of the chemist that it 
 depends upon the percentage of volatile oils in butter-fat 
 and in caul-fat respectively. 
 
 ‘ Artificial butter is the result of several processes. 
 The internal fat of cattle is first chopped into small 
 pieces, and then passed through a huge and somewhat 
 
 L 
 
146 THE CHEMISTRY OF (COGK a. 
 
 modified sausage-machine. The finely-divided suet is 
 ‘afterwards placed in suitable vessels, and heated up 
 to 122° Fahr., but a higher temperature™ mustbe 
 avoided, otherwise a portion of the stearine, or true tallow 
 of the suet, becomes inextricably mixed with the oleo- 
 margarine. It need scarcely be added that the tallow 
 taste would be fatal to the manufacture of a first-class 
 article. The melted fat is transferred to casks and left 
 to cool; afterwards it is put in small quantities into 
 coarse bags, several of which are made into a pile with 
 iron plates between them, and placed in a hydraulic 
 press. The result is the expression of the pure oleo- 
 margarine as a clear yellow oil,the solid stearine remain- 
 ing in the bags. 
 
 ‘The next step is the manufacture of this oleomar- 
 garine into the substance which has been designated 
 “butterine,” and which is quoted on the London market as 
 “bosch.” The “oleo” is remelted at the lowest possible 
 temperature, mixed with a certain proportion of milk 
 and of butter, and then churned. The result is the pro- 
 duction of a material closely resembling butter, in fact 
 practically identical so far as appearance is concerned. 
 It is washed, worked, and otherwise treated like real 
 butter,and packed to simulate the kinds of butter which 
 are most in demand on the market to which it is sent. 
 In London all kinds of butter are sold, and we believe 
 that they are all more or less imitated. 
 
 ‘Unfortunately for the consumer of butterine, not all 
 that is sold, even as butter, is made with so much regard 
 to care and cleanliness, or with such comparatively un- 
 objectionable materials. The demand for oleomargarine, 
 which constitutes about 60 per cent. of the mass that 
 is churned, has naturally raised its price, and various 
 substitutes have been tried with more or less success, 
 
CHEESE, 147 
 
 Lard has been extensively used, and is said to answer 
 fairly well. Oils of various kinds have also had their 
 trial, but used alone their melting-point is too low. 
 Earth-nut oil is used in small quantities by some makers 
 in order to impart an agreeable flavour, especially in 
 cases where the artificial butter has been “ weighted” by 
 the addition of water to the milk, or meal to an inferior 
 oil. 
 
 ‘The adaptation of M. Mége’s process to the imita- 
 tion of other dairy products is a natural sequence to the 
 success, in a commercial sense, which has attended the 
 manufacture of artificial butter. The skim-milk difficulty 
 in the American butter factories has set their managers 
 to work at the problem of its conversion into something 
 saleable for some time past. This difficulty has been 
 increased of late years by the invention of the cream 
 separator, which deprives the milk of practically all its 
 cream ; but on the large dairy farms of Denmark, where 
 from 100 to 300 cows are kept and these separators are 
 used, the skim-milk is made into skim-cheese, and the 
 working classes in that country do not object to eat a 
 nutritious article of diet which they can buy at about 
 fourpence per pound. But neither the American nor 
 the English labourer, as a general rule, likes a cheese 
 that is at the same time exceedingly poor in fat and 
 excessively hard to bite. 
 
 ‘Obviously the first step was to add fat to the skim- 
 milk so as to replace the cream which had been taken 
 off. This, however, was no easy matter, for neither oleo- 
 margarine nor lard would mix with the skim-milk when 
 directly applied. The imitation cheese attempted to be 
 made in this way was wretchedly bad ; and, when cut, 
 the added fatty matter was found in streaks, and to a 
 
 great extent oozed out in its original condition. “ Lard- 
 iz 
 
148 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 cheese,” in fact, soon became a by-word and a reproach, 
 and it is stated that last year a large quantity of poor, 
 unsophisticated cheese was sold under that name, and 
 thus increased its evil reputation. 
 
 ‘But the utilisation of the skim-milk still remained a 
 necessity to the managers of the “creameries,” if they 
 were to be commercially successful. The question was, 
 therefore, considered whether it would not be possible 
 to make an artificial cream which should replace the 
 natural cream which had been taken off the milk. This 
 idea was soon put to a practical test, and with most 
 remarkable results. 
 
 ‘The process now adopted begins with the manufac- 
 ture of artificial cream as follows: A certain quantity 
 of skim-milk is heated to about 85° Fahr., and one- 
 half the quantity of either lard, oleomargarine, or olive 
 oil, as the case may be. These substances are conveyed 
 through separate pipes into an “emulsion” machine, 
 which subdivides both materials to a surprising degree, 
 while it mixes them thoroughly together—the arrange- 
 ment insuring that the machine is regularly fed with the 
 due proportions of the substances which are being used. 
 It is stated that the artificial cream made with olive oil 
 in this way is not objected to in the United States for use 
 in tea and coffee. 
 
 ‘For the manufacture of imitation cheese, about 44 
 per cent. of this imitation cream is added to the 
 skim-milk. The latter being raised to 85° Fahr., and 
 the former to 135° Fahr. or upwards, the mixture 
 attains a temperature of about 90° Fahr. The re- 
 mainder of the process is identical with that used in 
 the manufacture of American Cheddar cheese, except 
 that a special mechanical agitator is used to insure that 
 the curd shall be evenly stirred and cooked, so as to 
 
CHEESE. 149 
 
 avoid any loss of fat in the whey. Success or failure in 
 the manufacture of imitation cheese seems to depend 
 chiefly upon the perfect emulsion of the skim-milk with 
 the fat in the preliminary process of making artificial 
 cream. That having been accomplished, the remaining 
 processes are said to be perfectly easy and satisfactory. 
 It has been asserted by competent judges that the best 
 descriptions of oleomargarine cheese can with difficulty, 
 if at all, be detected from the ordinary American Cheddar 
 of commerce; but the imitation product has nevertheless a 
 tendency to become rapidly mouldy after having been cut. 
 
 ‘The trade in imitation butter is now something 
 enormous and increases every year; in the Netherlands 
 alone there are sixty or seventy factories. Imitation 
 cheese is only just beginning to appear on the London 
 market, but there can be little doubt that before long it 
 will compete successfully with all but the best and most 
 delicate descriptions of the real article, unless it is 
 branded so as to show its true character. One firm 
 alone, in New York State, made 200,000 lbs. of imitation 
 cheese last year, and their factories are in full work 
 again this year.’ 
 
 My first acquaintance with the rational cookery of 
 cheese was in the autumn of 1842, when I dined with the 
 monks of St. Bernard. Being the only guest, I was the 
 first to be supplied with soup, and then came a dish of 
 grated cheese. Being young and bashful, I was ashamed 
 to display my ignorance by asking what I was to do with 
 the cheese, but made a boid dash, nevertheless, and 
 sprinkled some of it into my soup. I then learned that 
 my guess was quite correct; the prior and the monks 
 did the same. 
 
 On walking on to Italy I learned that there such use 
 
150 THE CHEMISTRY Of (COCKE 
 
 of cheese is universal. Minestra without Parmesan would 
 in Italy be regarded as we in England should regard 
 muffins and crumpets without butter. During the forty 
 years that have elapsed since my first sojourn in Italy, my 
 sympathies are continually lacerated when I contemplate 
 the melancholy spectacle of human beings eating thin 
 soup without any grated cheese. 
 
 Not only in soups, but in many other dishes, it is 
 similarly used. As an example, I may name ‘ Rzsotio a 
 la Mulanese, a delicious, wholesome, and economical 
 dish—a sort of stew composed of rice and the giblets of 
 fowls, usually charged about twopence to threepence 
 per portion at Italian restaurants. This, I suppose, is 
 the reason why I find no recipe for it in the ‘ high-class’ 
 cookery-books. It is always served with grated Par- 
 mesan. The same with the many varieties of paste, of 
 which macaroni and vermicelli are the best known in 
 this country. 
 
 In all these the cheese is sprinkled over, and then 
 stirred into the soup, &c., while it is hot. The cheese 
 being finely divided is fused at once, and thus delicately 
 cooked. This is quite different from the ‘macaroni 
 cheese’ commonly prepared in England by depositing 
 macaroni in a pie-dish, then covering it with a stratum 
 of grated cheese, and placing this in an oven or before a 
 fire until the cheese is desiccated, browned, and converted 
 into a horny, caseous form of carbon that would induce 
 chronic dyspepsia in the stomach e a wild boar if he fed 
 upon it for a week. 
 
 In all preparations of Italian pastes, risottos, purées, 
 &c., the cheese is intimately mixed throughout, and 
 softened and diffused thereby in the manner above 
 described. 
 
 The Italians themselves imagine that only their own 
 
CHEESE. ISI 
 
 Parmesan cheese is fit for this purpose, and have in- 
 fected many Englishmen with the same idea. Thus it 
 happens that fancy prices are paid in this country for 
 that particular cheese, which nearly resembles the cheese 
 known in our midland counties as ‘skim dick ’—sold 
 there at about fourpence per pound, or given by the far- 
 mers to their labourers. It is cheese ‘that has sent 
 its butter to market, being made from the skim-milk 
 which remains in the dairy after the pigs have been fully 
 supplied. 
 
 I have used this kind of cheese as a substitute for 
 Parmesan, and I find it answers the purpose, though it 
 has not the fine flavour of the best qualities of Parme- 
 san. The only fault of our ordinary whole-milk English 
 and American cheeses is that they are too rich, and can- 
 not be so finely grated on account of their more unctuous 
 structure, due to the cream they contain. 
 
 I note that in the recipes of high-class cookery-books, 
 where Parmesan is prescribed, cream is commonly added. 
 Sensible English cooks, who use Cheshire, Cheddar, or 
 good American cheese, are practically including the Par- 
 mesan and the cream in natural combination. By 
 allowing these cheeses to dry, or by setting aside the 
 outer part of the cheese for the purpose, the difficulty of 
 grating is overcome. | 
 
 I have now to communicate another result of my 
 cheese-cooking researches, viz. a new dish—cheese- 
 porridge—or, I may say, a new class of dishes—cheese- 
 porridges. They are not intended for epicures, who only 
 live to eat, but for men and women who eat in order to 
 live and work. These combinations of cheese are more . 
 especially fitted for those whose work is muscular, and 
 who work in the open air. Sedentary brain-workers 
 should use them carefully, lest they suffer from over- 
 
152 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK maa 
 
 nutrition, which is but a few degrees worse than partial 
 starvation. 
 
 My typical cheese-porridge is ordinary oatmeal-por- 
 ridge made in the usual manner, but to which grated 
 cheese, or some of the cheese solution above described, 
 is added, either while in the cookery-pot or after it is 
 taken out, and yet as hot as possible. It should be 
 sprinkled gradually and well stirred in. 
 
 Another kind of cheese-porridge or cheese-pudding is 
 made by adding cheese to daked potatoes—the potatoes 
 to be taken out of their skins and well mashed while the 
 erated cheese is sprinkled and intermingled. A little 
 milk may or may not be added, according to taste and 
 convenience. ‘This is better suited for those whose oc- 
 cupations are sedentary, potatoes being less nutritious 
 and more easily digested than oatmeal. They are chiefly 
 composed of starch, which is a heat-giver or fattener, 
 while the cheese is highly nitrogenous, and supplies the 
 elements in which the potato is deficient, the two to- 
 gether forming a fair approach to the theoretically 
 demanded balance of constituents. 
 
 I say baked potatoes rather than boiled, and perhaps 
 should explain my reasons, though in doing so I anti- 
 cipate what I shall explain more fully when on the 
 subject of vegetable food. 
 
 Raw potatoes contain potash salts which are easily 
 soluble in water. I find that when the potato is boiled 
 some of the potash comes out into the water, and thus 
 the vegetable is robbed of a very valuable constituent. 
 The baked potato contains all its original saline con- 
 stituents which, as I have already stated, are specially 
 demanded as an addition to cheese-food. 
 
 Hasty pudding made, as usual, of wheat flour, may 
 be converted from an insipid to a savoury and highly 
 
CHEESE. 153 
 
 nutritious porridge by the addition of cheese in like 
 manner. 
 
 The same with boiled rice, whether whole or ground, 
 also sago, tapioca, and other forms of edible starch. 
 Supposing whole rice is used—and I think this is the 
 best—the cheese may be sprinkled among the grains of 
 rice and well stirred or mashed up with them. The ad- 
 dition of a little brown gravy to this, with or without 
 chicken giblets, gives us an Italian vzsotto. The Indian- 
 corn stirabout of the poor Irish cottier would be much 
 improved both in flavour and nutritive value by the 
 addition of a little grated cheese. 
 
 Pease pudding is not improved by cheese. The 
 chemistry of this will come out when I explain the com- 
 position of peas, beans, &c. The same applies to pea 
 soup. 
 
 I might enumerate other methods of cooking cheese 
 by thus adding it in a finely-divided state to other kinds 
 of food, but if I were to express my own convictions on 
 the subject I should stir up prejudice by naming some 
 mixtures which many people would denounce. As an 
 example I may refer to a dish which I invented more 
 than twenty years ago—viz. fish and cheese pudding, 
 made by taking the remains from a dish of boiled cod- 
 fish, haddock, or other w/zfe fish, mashing it with bread- 
 crumbs, grated cheese, and ketchup, then warming in an 
 oven and serving after the usual manner of scalloped 
 fish, Any remains of oyster sauce may be advantage- 
 ously included. 
 
 I find this delicious, but others may not. I frequently 
 add grated cheese to boiled fish as ordinarily served, and 
 have lately made a fish sauce by dissolving grated cheese 
 in milk with the aid of a little bicarbonate of potash, and 
 adding this to ordinary melted butter. I suggest these 
 
154 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK 
 
 cheese mixtures to others with some misgivings as re- 
 gards palatability, after learning the revelations of Darwin 
 on the persistence of heredity. It is quite possible that, 
 being a compound of the Swiss Mattieu with the Welsh 
 Williams (cheese on both sides), I may inherit an abnor- 
 mal fondness for this staple food of the mountaineers. 
 
 Be this as it may, so far as the mere palate is con- 
 cerned; but in the chemistry of all my advocacy of cheese 
 and its cookery I have fullconfidence. Rendered digestible 
 by simple and suitable cookery, and added with a little 
 potash salt to farinaceous food of all kinds, it affords ex- 
 actly what is required to supply a theoretically complete 
 ‘and a most economical dietary, without the aid of any 
 other kind of animal food. The potash salts may be ad- 
 vantageously supplied by a liberal second course of fruit 
 or salad. 
 
 One more of my heretical applications of grated 
 cheese must be specified. It is that of sprinkling it freely 
 over ordinary stewed tripe, which thus becomes eztra- 
 ordinary stewed tripe. Or a solution of cheese may be 
 mixed with liquor of the stew. It may not be generally 
 known that stewed tripe is the most easily digestible of 
 all solid animal food. This was shown by the experi- 
 ments of Dr. Beaumont on his patient, Alexis St. Martin, 
 who was so obliging (from a scientific point of view) as 
 to discharge a gun in such a manner that it shot away 
 the front of his own stomach and left there, after the 
 healing of the wound, a valved window through which, 
 with the aid of a simple optical contrivance, the work of 
 digestion could be watched. Dr. Beaumont found that 
 while beef and mutton required three hours for digestion, 
 tripe was digested in one hour.! 
 
 1 The reader who desires further information on this and kindred 
 subjects will find it clearly and soundly treated (without any of the 
 
CHEESE: 155 
 
 I add by way of postscript a recipe for a dish lately 
 invented by my wife. It is vegetable marrow au gratzn, 
 prepared by simply boiling the vegetable as usual, 
 slicing it, placing the slices in a dish, covering them with 
 grated cheese, and then browning slightly in an oven or 
 before the fire, as in preparing the well-known ‘cauli- 
 flower au gratin. Ihave modified this (with improve- 
 ment, I believe) by mashing the boiled marrow and 
 stirring the grated cheese into the midst of it whilst as 
 hot as possible ; or, better still, by adding a little of the 
 solution of cheese above described to the purée of mashed 
 marrow and stirring it well in while hot. To please the 
 ladies, and make it look pretty on the table, a little more 
 grated cheese may be sprinkled on the top of this and 
 browned in the oven or with asalamander. People with 
 weak digestive powers should set aside the pretty. 
 
 Turnips may be similarly treated as ‘ mashed turnips 
 au gratin. I recommend this especially to my vege- 
 tarian friends, who have no objection to cheese, but do 
 not properly appreciate it. } 
 
 Taking as I do great interest in their efforts, regard- 
 ing them as pioneers of a great and certainly approach- 
 ing reform, I have frequently dined at their restaurants 
 (always do so when within reach, as I am only a flesh- 
 eater for convenience’ sake), and by the experience thus 
 afforded of their cookery, am convinced that they are 
 losing many converts by the lack of cheese in many of 
 their most important dishes. 
 
 noxious pedantry that too commonly prevails in such treatises) in Dr. 
 Andrew Combe’s Physiology of Digestion, which, although written by a 
 dying man nearly half a century ago, still remains, like his Principles of 
 Physiology, the best popular work on the subject. Subsequent editions 
 have been edited and brought up to date by his nephew, Sir James Coxe. 
 
156 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK Baa 
 
 CHAPT Eke. 
 
 FAT—MILK. 
 
 WE all know that there is a considerable difference 
 between raw fat and cooked fat; but what is the 
 rationale of this difference? Is it anything beyond the 
 obvious fusion or semi-fusion of the solid ? 
 
 These are very natural and simple questions, but in 
 no work on chemistry or technology can I find any 
 answer to them, or even any attempt at an answer, I 
 will therefore do the best I can towards solving the 
 problem in my own way. | 
 
 All the cookable and eatable fats fall into the class of 
 ‘fixed oils,’ so named by chemists to distinguish them 
 from the ‘ volatile oils, otherwise described as ‘ essential 
 oils.” The distinction between these two classes is 
 simple enough. The volatile oils (mostly of vegetable 
 origin) may be distilled or simply evaporated away like 
 water or alcohol, and leave no residue. The fixed oils 
 similarly treated are dissociated more or less com- 
 pletely. This has been already explained in Chapter VII. 
 
 Otherwise expressed, the boiling point of the volatile 
 oils is below their dissociation point. The fixed oils are 
 those which are dissociated at a temperature below their 
 boiling point. 
 
 My object in thus expressing this difference will be 
 understood upon a little reflection. The volatile oils, 
 when heated, being distilled without change are uncook- 
 
FAT—MILK. 157 
 
 able ; while the fixed oils if similarly heated suffer 
 various degrees of change as their temperature is raised, 
 and may be completely decomposed by steady applica- 
 tion of heat in a closed vessel without the aid of any 
 other. chemical agent than the heat itself. This ‘de- 
 structive distillation’ converts them into solid carbon 
 and hydro-carbon gases, somewhat similar to those we 
 obtain by the destructive distillation of coal. 
 
 If we watch the changes occurring as the heat 
 advances to this complete dissociation point we may 
 observe a minor or partial dissociation proceeding gra- 
 dually onward, resembling that which I have already 
 described as occurring when sugar is similarly treated 
 (Chapter VII. page 87). 
 
 But in ordinary cooking we do not go so far as to 
 carbonise the fat itself, though we do brown or partially 
 carbonise the membrane which envelopes the fat. What 
 then is the nature of this minor dissociation, if such 
 occurs ? 
 
 Before giving my answer to this question I must 
 explain the chemical constitution of fat. It is a com- 
 pound of a very weak base with very weak acids. The 
 basic substance is glycerine, the acids (not sour at ail, 
 but so named because they combine with bases as the 
 actually sour acids do) are stearic acid, palmitic acid, 
 oleic acid, &c., and bear the general name of ‘ fatty acids.’ 
 They are solid or liquid, according to temperature. 
 When solid they are pearly crystalline substances, when 
 fused they are oily liquids. 
 
 To simplify, I will take one of these as a type, and 
 that the one which is the chief constituent of animal 
 fats, viz. stearic acid. I have a lump of it before me. 
 Newly broken through, it might at a distance be mistaken 
 for a piece of Carrara marble. It is granular, like the 
 
158 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 marble, but not so hard, and, when rubbed with the 
 hand, differs from the marble in betraying its origin by 
 a small degree of unctuousness, but it can scarcely be 
 described as greasy. 
 
 I find by experiment that this may be mixed with 
 glycerine without combination taking place, that when 
 heated with glycerine just to its fusing point, and the 
 two are agitated together, the combination is by no 
 means complete. Instead of obtaining a soft, smooth 
 fat, I obtain a granular fat small stearic crystals with 
 glycerine amongst them. It is a mzxture of stearic acid 
 and glycerine, not a chemical compound ; it is stearic 
 acid and glycerine, but not a stearate of glycerine or 
 elycerine stearate. 
 
 A similar separation is what I suppose to occur in 
 the cooking of animal fat. I find that mutton-fat, beef- 
 fat, or other fat when raw is perfectly smooth, as tested 
 by rubbing a small quantity, free from membrane, be- 
 tween the finger and thumb, or by the still more delicate 
 test of rubbing it between the tip of the tongue and the 
 palate. But dripping, whether of beef, or mutton, or 
 poultry, is granular, as anybody who has ever eaten 
 bread and dripping knows well enough, and the manu- 
 facturers of ‘butterine,’ or ‘bosch, know too well, the 
 destruction or prevention of this granulation being one 
 of the difficulties of their art. 
 
 My theory of the cookery of fat is simply that heat, 
 when continued long enough, or raised sufficiently high, 
 effects an incipient dissociation of the fatty acids from 
 the glycerine, and thus assists the digestive organs by 
 presenting the base and the acids in a condition better 
 fitted (or advanced by one stage) for the new combina- 
 tions demanded by assimilation. Some physiologists 
 have lately asserted that the fat of our food is not as- 
 
r FAT—MILK. “159 
 
 similated at all—not laid down again as fat, but is used 
 directly as fuel for the maintenance of animal heat. 
 
 If this is correct, the advantage of the preliminary dis- 
 sociation is more decided, for the combustible portion of 
 the fat is its fatty acids ; the glycerine is an impediment 
 to combustion, so much so that the modern candle-maker 
 removes it, and thereby greatly improves the combusti- 
 bility of his candles. 
 
 It may be that the glycerine of the fat we eat is as- 
 similated like sugar, while the fatty acids act directly as 
 fuel. This view may reconcile some of the conflicting 
 facts (such as the existence of fat in the carnivora) that 
 stand in the way of the theory of the uses of fat food 
 above referred to, according to which fat is not fattening, 
 and those who would ‘ Bant’ should eat fat freely to 
 maintain animal heat, while very abstemious in the 
 consumption of sugar and farinaceous food. 
 
 The difference between tallow and dripping is in- 
 structive. Their origin is the same; both are melted 
 fats—beef or mutton fats—and both contain the same 
 fatty acids and glycerine, but there is a visible and tan- 
 gible difference in their molecular condition. Tallow is 
 smooth and homogeneous, dripping decidedly granular. 
 
 I attribute this difference to the fact that in render- 
 ing tallow, the heat is maintained no longer than is neces- 
 sary to effect the fusion ; while, in the ordinary production 
 of dripping, the fat is exposed in the dripping-pan to a 
 long continuance of heat, besides being highly heated 
 when used in basting. Therefore the dissociation is 
 carried farther in the case of the dripping, and the result 
 becomes sensible. 
 
 I have observed that home-rendered lard, that ob- 
 tained in English farmhouses, where the ‘scratchings’ 
 (ze. the membranous parts) are frizzled, is more granular 
 
160 LHE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE 
 
 than the lard we now obtain in such abundance from 
 Chicago and other wholesale hog regions. I have not 
 witnessed the lard rendering at Chicago, but have little 
 doubt that economy of fuel is practised in conducting it, 
 and therefore less dissociation would be effected than in 
 the domestic retail process. 
 
 Some of the early manufacturers of ‘bosch’ purified 
 their fat by the process recommended and practised by 
 the French Academicians MM. Dubrunfaut and Fua (see 
 page 102). I wrote about it in 1871, and consequently 
 received some samples of artificial butter thus made in 
 the Midlands. It was pure fat, perfectly wholesome, 
 but, although coloured to imitate butter, had the granular 
 character of dripping. Since that time great progress 
 has been made in this branch of industry. I have lately 
 tasted samples of pure ‘ bosch’ or ‘ oleomargaiine’ un- 
 distinguishable from churned cream or good butter, 
 though offered for sale at 84d. per lb. in wholesale pack- 
 ages. In the preparation of this the high temperatures of 
 ‘the process of the Academicians are carefully avoided, 
 and the smoothness of pure butter is obtained. I men- 
 tion this now merely in confirmation of my theory of the 
 rationale of fat cookery, but shall return to this subject 
 of ‘bosch’ or butterine again, as it has considerable in- 
 trinsic interest in reference to our food supplies, and 
 should be better understood than it is. 
 
 If this theory of fat cookery and the preceding theo- 
 retical explanations of the cookery of gelatin and fibrin 
 are correct, a broad practical deduction follows, viz. that 
 in the cookery of fat the full temperature of 212° or even 
 a much higher temperature does no mischief, or may be 
 desirable, while all the other constituents of meat are 
 better cooked at a temperature not exceeding 212° ; the 
 albumen especially at a considerably lower temperature, 
 
FAT—MILK., 161 
 
 There is neither coagulation nor dehydration to be 
 feared as regards the fat, unless the heat is raised to that 
 of the dissociation of the fixed oils, which, as already 
 explained, is much above 212°; the change which then 
 takes place in the fat (analogous to that caramelising 
 sugar) is not dehydration properly so called, although 
 the elements of water or hydrogen may be driven off. 
 
 Hydration is a combining of water as water, not with 
 the elements of water as elements, and the water of most 
 hydrates becomes dissociated at a temperature a little 
 above the boiling point of water. 
 
 My own experiments on gelatin show that hydration 
 occurs when crude gelatin is exposed to the action of 
 water at or below the boiling point, and that dehydration 
 takes place at and above the boiling point, or otherwise 
 stated, the boiling point is the critical temperature where 
 either hydration or dehydration may occur according to 
 the circumstances, 
 
 The original membrane immersed in water at 212° 
 becomes hydrated, while hydrated gelatin heated to 
 212° and exposed to the air is dehydrated. Fat is only 
 dissociated as regards its glycerine, and is cooked thereby. 
 
 The dietetic value of milk is obvious enough from 
 the fact that the young of the human species and all the 
 mammalia, whether carnivorous, graminivorous, or herbiv- 
 orous, are entirely fed upon it during the period of their 
 most rapid growth. This, however, does not justify the 
 practice of describing milk asa model diet and tabulating 
 its composition as that which should represent the com- 
 position of food for adults. The fallacy of this is evident 
 from the fact that grass is the model food of the cow, 
 and milk that of the calf. Although the grass contains 
 all the constituents of the milk, their proportions are 
 widely different ; besides this the grass contains a very 
 
 M 
 
162 LHE CHEMISTRY “OF COCKiae- 
 
 ereat deal of material that does not exist in milk—silica 
 for example. 
 
 The constituents of milk are first water, constituting 
 from 65 to 90 per cent. Nitrogenous matter, consisting 
 of the casein above described and alittle albumen. Feat, 
 sugar, and saline substances. The proportions of these 
 vary so greatly in the milk from different animals of the 
 same species, and in that from the same animal at 
 different times that tabular statements of the percent- 
 age composition of the milk of different animals are very 
 variable. I have five such tables before me, assembled 
 for the purpose of supplying material for my readers, 
 but they are so contradictory, though all by good 
 chemists, that I am at a loss in making a choice. The 
 following is Dr. Miller’s statement of the mean result of 
 several analyses: 
 
 Woman| Cow Goat Ass Sheep | Bitch 
 
 Water... : : . | 88'6 >| 87°41 Sao 0: 
 
 o'5 | 85°6 | 66°3 
 Fat . : : p 26 4°0 4°5 I°4 4°5 | 14°8 
 Sugar and soluble salts .| 4°9 5.0 | 45 6°4 4°2 2:0 
 Nitrogenous compounds 1 3°9 3°6 9°0 57 | 160 
 
 and insoluble salts 
 
 The fat exists in the form of minute globules of oil 
 suspended in the water. The rising of these to the surface 
 forms the cream. When the milk is new it is slightly 
 alkaline, and this assists in the admixture of the oil with 
 the water, forming an emulsion which may be imitated by 
 whipping olive or other similar oilin water. If the water 
 is slightly alkaline the milky-looking emulsion is more 
 easily obtained than in neutral water, still more so than 
 when there is acid in the water. 
 
 As milk becomes older lactic acid is formed; at first 
 alkalinity is exchanged for neutrality, and afterwards the 
 
FAT—MILK. 163 
 
 ‘milk becomes acid. Thisassistsin the separation of the 
 cream. 
 
 Butter is merely the oil globules aggregated by 
 agitation or churning. ‘The condition of the casein has 
 been already described. The sugar of milk or ‘lactine’ 
 is much less sweet than cane sugar. 
 
 The cookery of milk is very simple, but by no means 
 unimportant. That there is an appreciable difference 
 between raw and boiled milk may be proved by taking 
 equal quantities of each (the boiled sample having been 
 allowed to cool down), adding them to equal quantities 
 of the same infusion of coffee, then critically tasting the 
 mixtures. ‘The difference is sufficient to have long since 
 established the practice among all skilful cooks of scru- 
 pulously using boiled milk for making café au lait. I 
 have tried a similar experiment on tea, and find that in 
 this case the cold milk is preferable. Why this should 
 be—why boiled milk should be better for coffee and raw 
 milk for tea—I cannot tell. If any of my readers have 
 not done so already, let them try similar experiments 
 with condensed milk, and I have no doubt that the ver- 
 dict of the majority will be that it is passable with coffee, 
 but very objectionable in tea. This is milk that has 
 -een very much cooked. 
 
 The chief definable alteration effected by the boiling 
 of milk is the coagulation of the small quantity of albu- 
 men which it contains. This rises as it becomes solidified, 
 carrying with it some of the fat globules of the milk, and 
 a little of its sugar and saline constituents, thus forming a 
 skin-like scum on the surface, which may be lifted with 
 a spoon and eaten, as it is perfectly wholesome, and very 
 nutritious. 
 
 If all the milk that is poured into London every 
 
 M 2 
 
164 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK Baa 
 
 morning were to flow down a single channel, it would 
 form a respectable little rivulet. An interesting example 
 of the self-adjusting operation of demand and supply is 
 presented by the fact that, without any special legislation 
 or any dictating official, the quantity required should thus 
 flow with so little excess that, in spite of its perishable 
 qualities, little or none is spoiled by souring ; and yet at 
 any moment anybody may buy a pennyworth within two 
 or three hundred yards of any part of the great metropolis. 
 There is no record of any single day on which the supply 
 has failed, or even been sensibly deficient, 
 
 This is effected by drawing the supplies from a great 
 number of independent sources, which are not likely 
 to be simultaneously disturbed in the same direction. 
 Coupled with this advantage is a serious danger. It has 
 been demonstrated that certain microbia (minute living 
 abominations), which are said to disseminate malignant 
 diseases, may live in milk, feed upon it, increase and 
 multiply therein, and by it be transmitted to human 
 beings with possibly serious and even fatal results. 
 
 This general germ theory of disease has been recently 
 questioned by some men whose conclusions demand 
 respect. Dr. B. W. Richardson stoutly opposes it, and in 
 the particular instance of the ‘comma-shaped’ bacillus, 
 so firmly described as the origin of cholera, the refutation 
 is apparently complete. 
 
 The alternative hypothesis is that the class of diseases 
 in question are caused by a chemical poison, not neces- 
 sarily organised as a plant or animal, and therefore not 
 to be found by the microscope. 
 
 I speak the more feelingly on this subject, having 
 very recently had painful experience of it. One of my 
 sons went for a holiday to a farm-house in Shropshire, 
 where many happy and health-giving holidays have been 
 
FAT—MILK, 165 
 
 spent by all the members of my family. At the end of 
 two or three weeks he was attacked by scarlet fever, and 
 suffered severely. He afterwards learned that the cow- 
 boy had been ill, and further inquiry proved that his 
 illness was scarlet fever, though not acknowledged to be 
 such ; that he had milked before the scaling of the skin 
 that follows the eruption could have been completed, 
 and it was therefore most probable that some of the 
 scales from his hands fell into the milk. My son drank 
 freely of uncooked milk, the other inmates of the farm 
 drinking home-brewed beer, and only taking milk in tea 
 or coffee hot enough to destroy the vitality of fever 
 rerms. He alone suffered. This infection was the more 
 remarkable, inasmuch as a few months previously he had 
 been assisting a medical man in a crowded part of 
 London where scarlet fever was prevalent, and had come 
 into frequent contact with patients in different stages of 
 the disease without suffering infection. 
 
 Had the milk from this farm been sent to London in 
 the usual manner in cans, and the contents of these par- 
 ticular cans mixed with those of the rest received by the 
 vendor, the whole of his stock might have been infected. 
 As some thousands of farms contribute to the supplying 
 of London with milk, the risk of such contact with in- 
 fected hands occurring occasionally in one or another of 
 them is very great, and fully justifies me in urgently 
 recommending the manager of every household to strictly 
 enforce the boiling of every drop of milk that enters the 
 house. At the temperature of 212° the vitality of all 
 dangerous germs is destroyed, and the boiling point of 
 milk is a little above 212°. The temperature of tea or 
 coffee, as ordinarily used, may do it, but is not to be 
 relied upon. I need only refer generally to the cases of 
 wholesale infection that have recently been traced to the 
 
166 THE CHEMISTRY “OF COOK Aaa. 
 
 milk of particular dairies, as the particulars are familiar 
 to all who read the newspapers. 
 
 The necessity for boiling remains the same, whether 
 we accept the germ theory or that of chemical poison, as 
 such poison must be of organic origin, and, like other 
 similar organic compounds, subject to dissociation or 
 other alteration when heated to the boiling point of 
 water. 
 
 It is an open question whether butter may or may 
 not act as a dangerous carrier of such germs; whether 
 they rise with the cream, survive the churning, and 
 flourish among the fat. The subject is of vital import- 
 ance, and yet, in spite of the research fund of the Royal 
 Society, the British Association, &c., we have no data 
 upon which to base even an approximately sound con- 
 clusion. 
 
 We may theorise, of course; we may suppose that 
 the bacteria, bacilli, &c., which we see under the micro- 
 scope to be continually wriggling about or driving along 
 are doing so in order to obtain fresh food from the sur- 
 rounding liquid, and therefore that if imprisoned in 
 butter they would languish and die. We may point to 
 the analogies of ferment germs which demand nitro- 
 genous matter, and therefore suppose that the pestiferous 
 wanderers cannot live upon a mere hydro-carbon like 
 butter. On'the other hand, we know that the germs of 
 such things can remain dormant under conditions that 
 are fatal to their parents, and develop forthwith when 
 released and brought into new surroundings. These 
 speculations are interesting enough, but in such a matter 
 of life and death to ourselves and our children we require 
 positive facts—direct microscopic or chemical evidence. 
 
 In the meantime the doubt is highly favourable to 
 ‘bosch.’ To illustrate this, let us suppose the case of a 
 
FAT—MILK. 167 
 
 cow grazing on a sewage-farm, manured from a district 
 on which enteric fever has existed. The cow lies down, 
 and its teats are soiled with liquid containing the chemical 
 poison or the germs which are so fearfully malignant 
 when taken internally. In the course of milking a 
 thousandth part of a grain of the infected matter con- 
 taining a few hundred germs enters the milk, and these 
 germs increase and multiply. The cream that rises car- 
 ries some of them with it, and they are thus in the 
 butter, either dead or alive—we know not which, but 
 have to accept the risk. | 
 
 Now, take the case of ‘bosch.’ The cow is slaughtered. 
 The waste fat—that before the days of palm oil and 
 vaseline was sold for lubricating machinery—is skilfully 
 prepared, made up into 2 lb. rolls, delicately wrapped in 
 special muslin, or prettily moulded and fitted into ‘ Nor- 
 mandy’ baskets. What is the risk in eating this ? 
 
 None atall provided always the ‘ bosch’ is not adulte- 
 rated with cream-butter. The special disease germs do 
 not survive the chemistry of digestion, do not pass 
 through the glandular tissues of the follicles that secrete 
 the living fat, and therefore, even though the cow should 
 have fed on sewage grass, moistened with infected sewage 
 water, its fat would not be poisoned. 
 
 What we require in connection with this is commer- 
 cial honesty: that the thousands of tons of ‘bosch’ now 
 annually made shall be sold as ‘ bosch,’ or, if preferred, as 
 ‘oleomargarine,’ or ‘butterine,’ or any other name that 
 shall tell the truth. In order to render such commercial 
 honesty possible to shopkeepers, more intelligence is 
 demanded among their customers. A dealer, on whom 
 I can rely, told me lately that if he offered the ‘bosch’ or 
 ‘butterine’ to his other customers as he was then offering 
 it to me, at 84¢@. per lb. in 24-lb. box, or 9d. retail, he 
 
168 THE CHEMISTRY-OF COOKERY 
 
 ~ could not possibly sell it, and his reputation would be 
 injured by admitting that he kept it ; but that the same 
 people who would be disgusted with it at 9a. will buy it 
 freely at double the price as prime Devonshire fresh 
 butter ; and, he added, significantly, ‘I cannot afford to 
 lose my business and be ruined because my customers 
 are fools. To pastrycooks and others in business it is 
 sold honestly enough for what it is, and used instead of 
 butter. : 
 
 In the ‘ Journal of the Chemical Society’ for January 
 1844, page 92, is an account of experiments made by 
 A. Mayer in order to determine the comparative nutritive 
 value of ‘bosch’ and cream-butter. They were made ‘on 
 amanandaboy. The result was that on an average a 
 little above 14 per cent. less of the ‘bosch’ was absorbed 
 into the system than of the cream-butter. This is a very 
 trifling difference. 7 
 
 Before leaving the subject of animal food I may say 
 a few words on the latest, and perhaps the greatest, 
 triumph of science in reference to food supply—z.e. the 
 successful solution of the great problem of preserving 
 fresh meat for an almost indefinite length of time. It 
 has long been known that meat which is frozen remains 
 fresh. The Aberdeen whalers were in the habit of 
 feasting their friends on returning home on joints that 
 were taken out fresh from Aberdeen, and kept frozen 
 during a long Arctic voyage. In Norway game is shot 
 at the end of autumn, and kept in a frozen state for 
 consumption during the whole winter and far into the 
 spring. 
 
 The early attempts to apply the freezing process for 
 the carriage of fresh meat from South America and 
 Australia by using ice, or freezing mixtures of ice and 
 salt, failed, but now all the difficulties are overcome by a 
 
FAT—MILK. 169 
 
 simple application of the great principle of the conserva- 
 tion of energy, whereby the burning of coal may be made 
 to produce a degree of cold proportionate to the amount 
 of heat it gives out in burning. 
 
 Carcasses of sheep are thereby frozen to stony hard- 
 ness immediately they are slaughtered in New Zealand 
 and Australia, then packed in close refrigerated cars, 
 carried to the ship, and there stowed in chambers refri- 
 gerated by the same means, and thus brought to England 
 in the same state of stony hardness as that originally 
 produced. I dined to-day on one of the legs of a sheep 
 that I bought a week ago, and which was grazing at the 
 Antipodes three months before. I prefer it to any 
 English mutton ordinarily obtainable. 
 
 The grounds of this preference will be understood 
 when I explain that English farmers, who manufacture 
 mutton as a primary product, kill their sheep as soon as 
 they are full grown, when a year old or less. They 
 cannot afford to feed a sheep for two years longer merely 
 to improve its flavour without adding to its weight. 
 Country gentlemen, who do not care for expense, occa- 
 sionally regale their friends on a haunch or saddle of 
 three-year-old mutton, as a rare and costly luxury. 
 
 The Antipodean graziers are wool growers. Until 
 lately mutton was merely used as manure, and even now 
 it is but a secondary product. The wool crop improves 
 year by year until the sheep is three or four years old; 
 therefore it is not slaughtered until this age is attained ; 
 and thus the sheep sent to England are similar to those 
 of the country squire, and such as the English farmer 
 could not send to market under eighteenpence per pound. 
 
 There is, however, one drawback; but I have tested 
 it thoroughly (having supplied my own table during the 
 last six months with no other mutton than that from 
 
170 THE CHEMISTRY OF (CCORe 
 
 New Zealand), and find it so trifling as to be im- 
 perceptible unless critically looked for. It is simply 
 that, in thawing, a small quantity of the juice of the 
 meat oozes out. This is more than compensated by the 
 superior richness and fulness of flavour of the meat it- 
 self, which is much darker in colour than young mutton. 
 Legs of frozen mutton should be hung with the thick 
 cut part upwards. With this precaution the loss of juice 
 is but nominal. If the frozen sheep is not cut up until 
 _completely thawed and required for cooking there is no 
 loss. ; 
 
 Another successful method of meat-preserving has 
 been more lately introduced. It is based upon the re- 
 markable antiseptic properties of boric acid (or boracic 
 acid as it is sometimes named) ; this is the characteristic 
 constituent of borax, and, like the fatty acids above 
 described, has no sour flavour. , 
 
 The speciality of this process, invented by Mr. Jones, 
 a Gloucestershire surgeon, is the method by which a 
 small quantity of the antiseptic is made to permeate the 
 whole of the carcass. 
 
 The animal is rendered insensible, either by a stun- 
 ning blow or by an anesthetic, with the heart still beat- 
 ing. A vein—usually the jugular—is opened, and a 
 small quantity of blood let out. Then a corresponding 
 quantity of a solution of boric acid, raised to blood heat, 
 is made to flow into the vein from a vessel raised to a 
 suitable height above it. The action of the heart carries 
 this through all the capillary vessels into every part of 
 the body of the animal. The completeness of this diffu- 
 sion may be understood by reflecting on the fact that we 
 cannot puncture any part of the body with the point of 
 a needle without drawing blood from some of these 
 vessels, 
 
PAT MILK: 17t 
 
 After the completion of this circulation the animal is 
 bled to death in the usual manner. From three to four 
 ounces of boric acid is sufficient for a sheep of average 
 weight, and much of this comes away with the final 
 bleeding. On April 2, 1884, I made a hearty meal on 
 the roasted, boiled, and stewed flesh of a sheep that was 
 killed on February 8, the carcass hanging in the mean- 
 time in the basement of the Society of Arts. It was 
 perfectly fresh, and without any perceptible flavour of 
 the boric acid: very tender, and full-flavoured as fresh | 
 meat. On July 19, 1884, purchased a haunch of the 
 prepared mutton, and hung it in an ill-constructed larder 
 during the excessively hot weather that followed. On 
 August 10, after twenty-two days of this severe ordeal, 
 it was still in good condition. The 11th and 12th were 
 two of the hottest days of the present century in England. 
 On the 13th I examined the haunch very carefully, 
 and detected symptoms of giving way. It had become 
 softer, and was pervaded throughout with a slight mal- 
 odour. On the 14th it became worse, and then I had 
 it roasted. It was decidedly gamey ; the fat, or rather 
 the membranous junction between fat and lean, and the 
 membranous sheaths of the muscles had succumbed, but 
 the substance of the muscles, the firm lean parts of the 
 meat, were quite eatable, and eaten by myself and other 
 members of my family. There was no taste of boric 
 acid, and the meat was unusuaily tender. 
 
 The curious element of this process is the very small 
 quantity of the boric acid which does the work so effect- 
 ually. 
 
 For some time past most of the milk that is supplied 
 to London has been similarly treated by adding borax 
 or a preparation chiefly composed of borax, and named 
 ‘slacialine. This suppresses the incipient lactic fer- 
 
mentation, which, in the course of a. fe yee 10 ae wie 
 produces the souring of milk, and thus prepared the 
 milk remains for a long time unaltered. ae “i 
 
 The small quantity of borax that we thus imbibe 
 with our tea, coffee, &c., is quite harmless. M. de Cyon. 
 who has studied this subject expo ae affirms: 
 that it is very beneficial. 
 
173 
 
 Cra LER. ot 
 
 THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES, 
 
 My readers will remember that I referred to Haller’s 
 statement, ‘Dimidium corporis humani gluten est,’ which 
 applies to animals generally, viz. that half of their sub- 
 stance is gelatin, or that which by cookery becomes 
 gelatin. This abundance depends upon the fact that 
 the walls of the cells and the frame-work of the tissues 
 are composed of this material. 
 
 In the vegetable structure we encounter a close 
 analogy to this. Cellular structure is still more clearly 
 defined than in the animal, as may be easily seen with - 
 the help of a very moderate microscopic power. Pluck 
 one of the fibrils that you see shooting down into the 
 water of hyacinth glasses, or, failing one of these, any 
 other succulent rootlet. Crush it between two pieces of 
 elass and examine. At the end there is a loose spongy 
 mass of rounded cells ; these merge into oblong rectang- 
 ular cells surrounding a central axis of spiral tube or 
 tubes or greatly elongated cell structure. Take a thin 
 slice of stem, or leaf, or flower, or bark, or pith, examine 
 in like manner, and cellular structure of some kind will 
 display itself, clearly demonstrating that whatever may 
 be the contents of these round, oval, hexagonal, oblong, 
 or otherwise regular or irregular cells, we cannot cook 
 and eat any whole vegetable, or slice of vegetable, 
 without encountering a large quantity of cell wall. It 
 
174 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE ss 
 
 constitutes far more than half of the substance of most 
 vegetables, and therefore demands prominent consider- 
 ation. 
 
 It existsin many forms with widely differing physical 
 properties, but with very little variation in chemical com- 
 position, so little that in many chemical treatises cellular 
 tissue, cellulose, lignin, and woody fibre are treated as 
 chemically synonymous. Thus, Miller says: ‘ Cellular 
 tissue forms the groundwork of every plant, and when 
 obtained in a pure state, its composition is the same, 
 whatever may have been the nature of the plants which 
 furnished it, though it may vary greatly in appearance 
 and physical characters ; thus, it is loose and spongy in 
 the succulent shoots of germinating seeds, and in the 
 roots of plants, such as the turnip and the potato ; it is 
 porous and elastic in the pith of the rush and the elder ; 
 it is flexible and tenacious in the fibres of hemp and 
 flax ; it is compact in the branches and wood of growing 
 trees ; and becomes very hard and dense in the shells of 
 the filbert, the peach, the cocoanut, and the Phytelephas 
 or vegetable ivory.’ 
 
 Its composition in all these cases is that of a cardo- 
 hydrate, t.e. carbon united with the elements of water, 
 which, by the way, should not be confounded with a hydro- 
 carbon, or compound of carbon with hydrogen simply, 
 such as petroleum, fats, essential oils, and resins. 
 
 There is, however, some little chemical difference 
 between wooden tissue and the pure cellulose that we 
 have in finely carded cotton, in linen, and pure paper pulp, 
 such asis used in making the filtering paper for chemical 
 laboratories, which burns without leaving a weighable 
 quantity of ash. The woody forms of cellular tissue 
 owe their characteristic properties to an incrustration 
 of 4agnin, which is often described as synonymous with 
 
ae 
 
 Bee CUOKEKY OF VEGETABLES. 175 
 
 cellulose, but is not so. It is composed of carbon, 
 oxygen, and hydrogen, like cellulose, but the hydrogen 
 is in excess of the proportion required to form water by 
 combination with the oxygen. 
 
 My own view of the composition of this incrustation 
 (lignin properly is called) is that it consists of a carbo- 
 hydrate united with a hydro-carbon, the latter having 
 a resinous character; but whether the hydro-carbon is 
 chemically combined with the carbo-hydrate (the resin 
 with the cellulose), or whether the resin only mechan- 
 ically envelopes and indurates the cellulose I will not 
 venture to decide, though ! incline to the latter theory. 
 
 As we shall presently see, this view of the constitu- 
 tion of the indurated forms of cellular tissue has an im- 
 portant practical bearing upon my present subject. To 
 indicate this in advance, I will put it grossly as opening 
 the question of whether a very great refinement of 
 scientific cookery may or may not enable us to convert 
 nutshells, wood shavings, and sawdust into wholesome 
 and digestible food. I have no doubt whatever that 
 it may. : 
 
 It could be done at once if the incrusting resinous 
 matter were removed ; for pure cellulose in the form of 
 cotton and linen rags has been converted into sugar 
 artificially in the laboratory of the chemist; and in the 
 ripening of fruits such conversion is effected on a large 
 scale in the laboratory of nature. A Jersey pear, for 
 example, when full grown in autumn is little better than 
 a lump of acidulated wood. Left hanging on the leafless 
 tree, or gathered and carefully stored for two or three 
 months, it becomes by nature’s own unaided cookery 
 the most delicious and delicate pulp that can be tasted 
 or imagined, 
 
 Certain animals havea remarkable power of digesting 
 
176 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKiaa 
 
 ligneous tissue. The beaver is an example of this. The 
 whole of its stomach, and more especially that secondary 
 stomach the cecum, is often found crammed or plugged 
 with fragments of wood and bark. I have opened the 
 crops of several Norwegian ptarmigans, and found them 
 filled with no other food than the needles of pines, upon 
 which they evidently feed during the winter. The birds, 
 when cooked, were scarcely eatable on account of the 
 strong resinous flavour of their flesh. 
 
 If my theory of the constitution of such woody tissues 
 is correct, these animals only require the power of 
 secreting some solvent for the resin, on the removal of 
 which their food would consist of the same material as 
 the tissue of the succulent stems and leaves eaten by 
 ordinary herbivorous animals. The resinous flavour of 
 the flesh of the ptarmigan indicates such solution of resin. 
 
 I may here, by the way, correct the commonly ac- 
 cepted version of a popular story. We are told that 
 when Marie Antoinette was informed of a famine in the 
 neighbourhood of the Tyrol, and of the starving of 
 some of the peasants there, she replied, ‘I would rather 
 eat pie-crust’ (some of the story-tellers say ‘ pastry’) 
 ‘than starve. Thereupon the courtiers giggled at the 
 ignorance of the pampered princess, who could suppose 
 that starving peasants had such an alternative food as 
 pastry. The ignorance, however, was all on the side 
 of the courtiers and those who repeat the story in its 
 ordinary form. The princess was the only person in 
 the Court who really understood the habits of the 
 peasants of the particular district in question, They 
 cook their meat, chiefly young veal, by rolling it in a 
 kind of dough made of sawdust mixed with as little 
 coarse flour as will hold it together ; then place this in 
 an oven or in wood embers until the dough is hardened 
 
THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES. 1747 
 
 to a tough crust, and the meat is raised throughout 
 to the cooking point. Marie Antoinette said that she 
 would rather eat crvozitons than starve, knowing that these 
 croutons, or meat pie-crusts, are given to the pigs; that 
 the pigs digest them, and are nourished by them in spite 
 of the wood sawdust. 
 
 When on the subject of cooking animal food, I had 
 to define the cooking temperature as determined by that 
 at which albumen coagulates, and to point out the mis- 
 chief arising from exceeding that temperature and thus 
 rendering the albumen horny and indigestible. 
 
 No such precautions are demanded in the boiling of 
 
 vegetables. The work to be done in cooking a cabbage 
 ora turnip, for example, is to soften the cellular tissue 
 by the action of hot water; there is nothing to avoid in 
 the direction of over-heating. Even if the water could 
 be raised above 212°, the vegetable would be rather 
 improved than injured thereby. 
 
 The question that now naturally arises is whether 
 modern science can show us that anything more can be 
 done in the preparation of vegetable tissue than the 
 mere softening in boiling water. I have already said 
 that the practice of using the digestive apparatus of 
 sheep, oxen, &c., for the preparation of our food is merely 
 a transitory barbarism, to be ultimately superseded by 
 scientific cookery, by preparing vegetables in such a 
 manner that they shall be as easily digested as the pre- 
 pared grass we call beefand mutton. Ido not mean by 
 this that the vegetable we should use shall be grass 
 itself, or that grass should be oneof the vegetables. We 
 must, for our requirement, select vegetables that contain 
 as much nutriment in a given bulk as our present mixed 
 diet, but in doing so we encounter the serious difficulty 
 of finding that the readily soluble cell wall or main bulk 
 
 N 
 
178 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 of animal food—the gelatin—is replaced in the vege- 
 table by the cellulose, or woody fibre, which is not only 
 more difficult of solution, but is not nitrogenous, is only 
 a compound of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. 
 
 Next to the enveloping tissue, the most abundant 
 constituent of the vegetables we use as food is starch. 
 Laundry associations may render the Latin name ‘ fecula,’ 
 or ‘farina, more agreeable when applied to food. We 
 feed very largely on starch, and take it in a multitude 
 of forms. Excluding water, it constitutes above three- 
 fourths of our ‘ staff of life, a still larger proportion of 
 rice, which is the staff of Oriental life, and nearly the 
 whole of arrowroot, sago, and tapioca, which may be 
 described as composed of starch and water. Peas, beans, 
 and every kind of seed and grain contain it in prepon- 
 derating proportions ; potatoes the same, and even those 
 vegetables which we eat raw, all contain within their 
 cells considerable quantities of starch. 
 
 Take a small piece of dough, made in the usual 
 manner by moistening wheat flour, put it in a piece of 
 muslin and work it with the fingers under water. The 
 water becomes milky, and the milkiness is seen to be 
 produced by minute granules that sink to the bottom 
 when the agitation of the water ceases. These are starch 
 granules. They may be obtained by similar treatment 
 of other kinds of flour. Viewed under a microscope 
 they are seen to be ovoid particles with peculiar concen- 
 tric markings that I must not tarry to describe. The 
 form and size of these granules vary according to the 
 plant from which they are derived, but the chemical 
 composition is in all cases the same, excepting, perhaps, 
 that the amount of water associated with the actual 
 starch varies, producing some small differences of density 
 or other physical variations. 
 
THE COOKERY OF VEGETABLES. 179 
 
 Arrowroot may be taken as an example. To the 
 chemist arrowroot is starch in as pure a form as can be 
 found in nature, and he applies this description to all 
 kinds of arrowroot ; but, looking at the ‘price current’ 
 in the ‘Grocer’ of the current week, November 22, 1884, 
 I find under the first item, which is ‘ Arrowroot,’ the 
 following : ‘ Bermuda, per Ib. tod. to Is. 5a.;’ ‘St. Vin- 
 cent and Natal, 14d. to 74d.;’ and this is a fair example 
 of the usual differences of price of this commodity. Five 
 farthings to 53 farthings is a wide range, and should 
 express a wide difference of quality. I have on several 
 occasions, at long intervals apart, obtained samples of 
 the highest-priced Bermuda, and even ‘ Missionary’ 
 arrowroot, supposed to be perfect, brought home by im- 
 maculate missionaries themselves, and therefore worth 
 3s. Od. per lb, and have compared this with the ‘St. 
 Vincent and Natal.’ I find that the only difference is 
 that on boiling in a given quantity of water the Bermuda 
 produces a somewhat stiffer jelly, the which additional 
 tenacity is easily obtainable by using a little more of the 
 14d. (or say 3d. to allow a profit on retailing) to the 
 same quantity of water. Both are starch, and starch is 
 neither more nor less than starch, unless it be that the 
 best Bermuda, sold at 3s. per Ib., is starch p/vs humbug.! 
 
 The ultimate chemical composition of starch is the 
 same as that of cellulose—carbon and the elements of 
 water, and in the same proportions; but the difference 
 of chemical and physical properties indicates some dif- 
 ference in the arrangement of these elements. It would 
 
 1 Tn fairness to retailers I should state that the price of arrowroot just 
 now is unusually low; the ordinary range is from twopence to two shile 
 lings. People who are afraid of having their arrowroot adulterated should 
 ask themselves what can be used to cheapen the St. Vincent at the above- 
 
 quoted prices, which are those of the unquestionably genuine article. 
 ; N 2 
 
180 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 be quite out of place here to discuss the theories of mole- 
 cular constitution which such differences have suggested, 
 especially as they are all rather cloudy. The percentage 
 is--carbon 44'4, oxygen 49'4, and hydrogen 6:2. The 
 difference between starch and cellulose that most closely 
 affects my present subject, that of digestibility, is con- 
 siderable. The ordinary food-forms of starch, such as 
 arrowroot, tapioca, rice, &c., are among the most easily 
 digestible kinds of food, while cellulose is peculiarly dif- 
 ficult of digestion; in its crude and compact forms it is 
 quite indigestible by human digestive apparatus. 
 
 Neither of them are capable of sustaining life alone ; 
 they contain none of the nitrogenous material required 
 for building up muscle, nerve, and other animal tissue. 
 _ They may be converted into fat, and may supply fuel 
 for maintaining animal heat, and may possibly supply 
 some of the energies demanded for organic work. 
 
 Serious consequences have resulted from ignorance 
 of this. The popular notion that anything which thickens 
 to a jelly when cooked must be proportionally nutritious 
 is very fallacious, and many a victim has died of starva- 
 tion by the reliance of nurses on this theory, and con- 
 sequently feeding an emaciated invalid on mere starch 
 in the form of arrowroot, &c. The selling of a fancy 
 variety at ten times its proper value has greatly aided 
 this delusion, so many believing that whatever is dear 
 must be good. I remember when oysters were retailed 
 in London at fourpence per dozen. They were not then 
 supposed to be exceptionally nutritious, were not pre- 
 scribed by fashionable physicians to invalids, as they 
 have been lately, since their price has risen to threepence 
 each. 
 
 More than half a century has elapsed since Dr. Beau- 
 mont published the results of his experiments on Alexis 
 
tae eGOOKERY OF VEGETABLES. 181 
 
 St. Martin. These showed that fresh raw oysters re- 
 quired 2 hours 55 minutes, and stewed fresh oysters 
 33 hours for digestion, against 1 hour for boiled tripe 
 and 3 hours for roast or boiled beef or mutton. Oysters 
 contain more than 80 per cent. of water, and are, weight 
 for weight, far less nutritious than beef or mutton ; less 
 than the easily digestible tripe. But tripe is cheap and 
 vulgar, therefore kitchenmaids, footmen, and fashionable 
 physicians despise it. 
 
 The change which takes place in the cookery of 
 starch may, I think, be described as simple hydration, or - 
 union with water; not that definite chemical combina- 
 - tion which may be expressed in terms of chemical equi- 
 valents, but a sort of hydration of which we have so 
 many other examples, where something unites with water . 
 in any quantity, the union being accompanied with an 
 evolution of some amountof heat. Striking illustrations 
 of this are presented on placing a piece of hydrated 
 soda or potash in water, or mixing sulphuric acid, already 
 combined chemically with an equivalent of water, with 
 more water. Here we have aqueous adhesion and con- 
 siderable evolution of heat, without the definitive quan- 
 titative chemical combination demanded by atomic 
 theories. 
 
 In the experiment above described for separating the 
 starch from wheat flour, the starch thus liberated sinks to 
 the bottom of the water and remains there undissolved. 
 The same occurs if arrowroot be thrown into water. 
 This insolubility is not entirely due to the intervention 
 of the envelope of the granules, as may be shown by 
 crushing the granules, whz/e dry, and then dropping them 
 into water. Such a mixture of starch and cold water 
 remains unchanged for a long time—-Miller says ‘an 
 indefinite time,’ 
 
182 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE ima 
 
 When heated to a little above 140° Fahr,, an absorp- 
 
 tion of water takes place through the enveloping mem- 
 brane of the granule, the grains swell up, and the mixture 
 becomes pasty or viscous. If this paste be largely 
 diluted with water, the swollen granules still remain as 
 separate bodies and slowly sink, though a considerable 
 exosmosis of the true starch has occurred, as shown by 
 the thickening of the water. I suppose that in their 
 original state the enveloping membrane is much folded, 
 and that these folds form the curious marking of con- 
 centric rings which constitutes the characteristic micro- 
 scopic structure of starch granules, and that when cooked, 
 at the temperature named, the very delicate membrane 
 becomes fully distended by the increased bulk of the 
 hydrated and diluted starch, and thus the rings disappear. 
 
 ‘A very little mechanical violence, mere stirring, now 
 breaks up these distended granules, and we obtain the 
 starch paste so well known to the laundress, and to all 
 who have seen cooked arrowroot. If this paste be dried 
 by evaporation it does not regain its former insolubility, 
 but readily dissolves in hot or cold water. This is what I 
 should describe as cooked starch. 
 
 If the heat is now raised from 140° to the boiling 
 point, and the boiling continued, the gelatinous mass 
 becomes thicker and thicker ; and if there are more than 
 fifty parts of water to one of starch a separation takes 
 place, the starch settling down with its fifty parts of 
 water, the excess of water standing above it. Care- 
 fully dried starch may be heated to above 300° without 
 becoming soluble, but at 400° a remarkable change com- 
 mences. Thesame occurs to ordinary commercial starch 
 
 at 320°, the difference evidently depending on the water 
 
 retained by it. If the heat is continued a little beyond 
 this it is converted into dertrin, otherwise named ‘ British 
 
 ee eee ——— TO er 
 
 “wae. es ae. 
 
Perec ounrkyY OF VEGETABLES. 183 
 
 gum, ‘gommeline, ‘starch gum,’ and ‘Alsace gum,’ 
 from its resemblance to gum-arabic, for which it is now 
 very extensively substituted. Solutions of this in bottles 
 are sold in the stationers’ shops under various names for 
 desk uses. 
 
 The remarkable feature of this conversion of starch 
 into dextrin is, that it is accompanied by no change of 
 chemical composition. Starch is composed of six equi- 
 valents of carbon, ten of hydrogen, and five of oxygen— 
 C,H,,O;, ze. six of carbon and five of water or its ele- 
 ments. Dextrin has exactly the same composition ; so 
 also has gum-arabic when purified. But their properties 
 differ considerably. Starch, as everybody knows, when 
 dried is white and opaque and pulverent; dextrin, 
 similarly dried, is transparent and brittle ; gum-arabic 
 the same, If a piece of starch, or a solution of starch, 
 is touched by a solution of iodine, it becomes blue 
 almost to blackness, if the solution is strong; no such 
 change occurs when the iodine solution is added to dex- 
 trin or gum. A solution of dextrin when mixed with 
 potash changes to a rich blue colour when a little sul- 
 phate of copper is added ; no such effect is produced by 
 -gum-arabic, and thus we have an easy test for distin- 
 euishing between true and fictitious gum-arabic. 
 
 The technical name for describing this persistence of 
 composition with changes of properties is zsomerzsm, and 
 bodies thus related are said to be zsomeric with each 
 other. Another distinguishing characteristic of dextrin 
 is that it produces a right-handed rotation on a ray of 
 polarised light, hence its name, from dezter, the right. 
 
 The conversion of starch into dextrin is a very 
 important element of the subject of vegetable cooking, 
 inasmuch as starch food cannot be assimilated until this 
 conversion has taken place, either before or after we eat 
 
184 THE CHEMISTRY “OF COOK fia. 
 
 it. I will therefore describe other methods by which 
 this change may be effected. 
 
 If starch be boiled in a dilute solution of almost any 
 acid, it is converted into dextrin. A solution containing 
 less than one per cent. of sulphuric or nitric acid is suffi- 
 ciently strong for this purpose. One method of com- 
 mercial manufacture (Payen’s) is to moisten Io parts of 
 starch with 3 of water, containing ;4>th of its weight of 
 nitric acid, spreading the paste upon shelves, allowing it 
 to dry in the air, and then heating it for an hour-and-a- 
 half at about 240° Fahr. 
 
 But the most remarkable and interesting agent in 
 effecting this conversion is dastase. It is one of those 
 mysterious compounds which have received the general 
 name of ‘ferments. They are disturbers of chemical 
 peace, molecular agitators that initiate chemical revolu- 
 tions, which may be beneficent or very mischievous, The 
 morbific matter of contagious diseases, the venom of 
 snake-bite, and a multitude of other poisons, are fer- 
 ments. Yeast is a familiar example of a ferment, and 
 one that is the best understood. 
 
 I must not be tempted into a dissertation on this 
 subject, but may merely remark that modern research 
 indicates that many of these ferments are microscopic 
 creatures, linking the vegetable with the animal world ; 
 they may be described as living things, seeing that they 
 erow from germs and generate other germs that produce 
 their like. Where this is proven, we can understand 
 how a minute germ may, by falling upon suitable 
 nourishment, increase-and multiply, and thus effect upon 
 large quantities of matter the chemical revolution above 
 named. 
 
 I have already described the action of rennet upon 
 milk,and the very small quantity which produces coagu- 
 
eee COOKERY OF VEGETABLES. 185 
 
 lation. There appears to be no intercession of living 
 microbia in this case, nor have any been yet demon- 
 strated to constitute the ferment of diastase, though they 
 may be suspected. Be this as it may, diastase is a most 
 beneficent ferment. It communicates to the infant plant 
 its first breath of active life, and operates in the very 
 first stage of animal digestion. 
 
 In a grain of wheat, for example, the embryo is sur- 
 rounded with its first food. While the seed remains dry 
 above ground there is no assimilation of the insoluble 
 starch or gluten, no growth, nor other sign of life. But 
 when the seed is moistened and warmed, the starch is 
 changed to dextrin by the action of diastase, and the 
 dextrin is further converted into sugar. The food of the 
 germ thus gradually rendered soluble penetrates its 
 tissues ; it is thereby fed and grows, unfolds its first leaf 
 upwards, throws downward its first rootlet, still feeding 
 on the converted starch until it has developed the organs 
 by which it can feed on the carbonic acid of the air and 
 the soluble minerals of the soil. But for the original 
 insolubility of the starch it would be washed away into 
 - the soil, and wasted ere the germ could absorb it. 
 
 The maltster, by artificial heat and moisture, hastens 
 this formation of dextrin and sugar ; then by a roasting 
 heat kills the baby plant just as it is breaking through 
 the seed-sheath. Blue Ribbon orators miss a point in 
 failing to notice this. It would be quite in their line to 
 denounce with scathing eloquence such heartless infant- 
 icide. 
 
 Diastase may be obtained by simply grinding freshly 
 germinated barley or malt, moistening it with half its 
 weight of warm water, allowing it to stand, and then 
 pressing out the liquid. One part of diastase is sufficient 
 to convert 2,000 parts of starch into dextrin, and from 
 
186 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKER 
 
 dextrin to sugar, if the action is continued. The most 
 favourable temperature for this is 140° Fahr. The action 
 ceases if the temperature be raised to the boiling point. 
 
 The starch which we take so abundantly as food 
 appears to have no more food-value to us than to the 
 vegetable germ until the conversion into dextrin or sugar 
 is effected. From what I have already stated concerning 
 the action of heat upon starch, it is evident that this 
 conversion is more or less effected in some processes of 
 cookery. In the baking of bread an incipient conversion 
 probably occurs throughout the loaf, while in the crust 
 it is carried so far as to completely change most of the 
 starch into dextrin, and some into sugar. Those of us 
 who can remember our bread-and-milk may not have 
 forgotten the gummy character of the crust when soaked. 
 This may be felt by simply moistening a piece of crust 
 in hot water and rubbing it between the fingers, A 
 certain degree of sweetness may also be detected, though 
 disguised by the bitterness of the caramel, which is also 
 there. 
 
 The final conversion of starch food into dextrin and 
 sugar is effected in the course of digestion, especially, as 
 already stated, in the first stage—that of insalivation, 
 Saliva contains a kind of diastase, which has received 
 the name of salivary diastase and mucin. It does not 
 appear to be exactly the same substance as vegetable 
 diastase, though its action is similar. It is most abun- 
 dantly secreted by herbivorous animals, especially by 
 ruminating animals. Its comparative deficiency in car- 
 nivorous animals is shown by the fact that if vegetable 
 matter is mixed with their food, starch passes through 
 them unaltered. 
 
 Some time is required for the conversion of the starch 
 by this animal diastase, and in some animals there is a 
 
Pe COOK LAY OF VEGETABLES. 187 
 
 special laboratory or kitchen for effecting this preliminary 
 cookery of vegetable food. Ruminating animals have a 
 special stomach cavity for this purpose in which the 
 food, after mastication, is held for some time and kept 
 warm before passing into the cavity which secretes the 
 gastric juice. The crop of grain-eating birds appears to 
 perform a similar function. It is there mixed with a 
 secretion corresponding to saliva, and is thus partially 
 malted—in this case before mastication in the gizzard. 
 
 At a later stage of digestion, the starch that has 
 escaped conversion by the saliva is again subjected to 
 the action of animal diastase contained in the pancreatic 
 juice, which is very similar to saliva. 
 
 It is a fair inference from these facts that creatures 
 like ourselves, who are not provided with a crop or 
 compound stomach, and manifestly secrete less saliva 
 than horses or other grain-munching animals, require 
 some preliminary assistance when we adopt graminiv- 
 orous habits ; and one part of the business of cookery 
 is to supply such preliminary treatment to the oats, 
 barley, wheat, maize, peas, beans, &c., which we cultivate 
 and use for food. 
 
 I may add that the stomach itself appears to do very 
 little, possibly nothing, towards the digestion of starch. 
 The primary conversion into dextrin is effected by the 
 saliva, and the subsequent digestion of this takes place 
 in the duodenum and following portions of the intestinal 
 canal. This applies equally to the less easily digested 
 material of the vegetable tissue described in the pre- 
 ceding chapter. Hence the greater length of the intes- 
 tinal canal in herbivorous animals as compared with the 
 carnivora. 
 
 Having described the changes effected by heat upon 
 starch, and referred to its further conversion into dextrin 
 
188 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK Eins 
 
 and sugar, I will now take some practical examples of 
 the cookery of starch foods, beginning with those which 
 are composed of pure, or nearly pure, starch. 
 
 When arrowroot is merely stirred in cold water, it 
 sinks to the bottom undissolved and unaltered. When 
 cooked in the usual manner to form the well-known 
 mucilaginous or jelly-like food, the change is a simple case 
 of the swelling and breaking up of the granules already 
 described as occurring in water at the temperature of 
 140° Fahr. There appears to be no reason for limiting 
 the temperature, as the same action takes place from 
 140° upwards to the boiling point of water. 
 
 I may here mention a peculiarity of another form of 
 nearly pure starch food, viz. tapioca, which is obtained 
 by pulping and washing out the starch granules of the 
 root of the J/anzhot, then heating the washed starch in 
 pans, and stirring it while hot with iron or wooden 
 paddles. This cooks and breaks up the granules, and 
 agelutinates the starch into nodules which, as Mr. James 
 Collins explains (‘ Journal of Society of Arts,’ March 14, 
 1884), are thereby coated with dextrin, to which gummy 
 coating some of the peculiarities of tapioca pudding are 
 attributable. It is a curious fact that this 7anzhot root, 
 from which our harmless tapioca is obtained, is terribly 
 poisonous. The plant is one of the large family of 
 nauseous spurgeworts (Luphorbiacee). The poison re- 
 sides in the milky juice surrounding the starch granules, 
 but being both soluble in water and volatile, most of it 
 is washed away in separating the starch granules, and 
 any that remains after washing is driven off by the heat- 
 ing and stirring, which has to reach 240° in order to 
 effect the changes above described. 
 
 I suspect that the difference between the forms of 
 tapioca and arrowroot has arisen from the necessity of 
 thus driving off the last traces of the poison, with which 
 
ey 
 
 Bee COOKERY OF VEGETABLES. 189 
 
 the aboriginal manufacturers are so well acquainted as 
 to combine the industry of poisoning their arrows with 
 that of extracting the starch-food from the same root. 
 No certificate from the public analyst is demanded to 
 establish the absence of the poison from any given 
 sample of tapioca, as the juice of the Manihot root, 
 like that of other spurges, is unmistakably acrid and 
 nauseous. 
 
 Sago, which is a starch obtained from the pith of the 
 stem of the sago-palm and other plants, is prepared in 
 grains like tapioca, with similar results. Both sago and 
 tapioca contain a little gluten, and therefore have more 
 food-value than arrowroot. 
 
 The most familiar of our starch foods is the potato. 
 I place it among the starch foods as next to water ; 
 starch is its prevailing constituent, as the following 
 statement of average compositions will show: Water, 
 75 per cent.; starch, 18°8 ;- nitrogenous materials, 2 ; 
 sugar, 3; fat, 02; salts, 1. The salts vary considerably 
 with the kind and age of the potato, from o’8 to 1°3 in 
 full-grown. Young potatoes contain more. In boiling 
 potatoes, the change effected appears to be simply a 
 breaking up or bursting of the starch granules, and a 
 conversion of the nitrogenous gluten into a more soluble 
 form, probably by a certain degree of hydration. As we 
 all know, there are great differences among potatoes ; 
 some are waxy, others floury; and these, again, vary 
 according to the manner and degree of cooking. I 
 cannot find any published account of the chemistry of 
 these differences, and must, therefore, endeavour to 
 explain them in my own way. 
 
 As an experiment, take two potatoes of the floury 
 kind ; boil or steam them together until they are just 
 softened throughout, or, as we say, ‘well done. Now 
 leave one of them in the saucepan or steamer, and very 
 
190 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 much over-cook it. Its floury character will have dis- 
 appeared, it will have become soft and gummy. The 
 reader can explain this by simply remembering what 
 has already been explained concerning the formation of 
 dextrin. It is due to the conversion of some of the 
 starch into dextrin. My explanation of the difference 
 between the waxy and floury potato is that the latter 
 is so constituted that all the starch granules may be 
 disintegrated by heat in the manner already described 
 before any considerable proportion of the starch is con- 
 verted into dextrin, while the starch of the waxy 
 potatoes for some reason, probably a larger supply of 
 diastase, is so much more readily convertible into dex- 
 trin, that a considerable proportion becomes gummy 
 before the whole of the granules are broken up, ze. 
 before the potato is cooked or softened throughout. 
 
 I must here throw myself into the great controversy 
 of jackets or no jackets. Should potatoes be peeled 
 before cooking, or should they be boiled in their jackets ? 
 I say most decidedly in jackets, and will state my reasons. 
 From 53 to 56 per cent. of the above-stated saline con- 
 stituents of the potato is potash, and potash is. an 
 important constituent of blood—so important that in 
 Norway, where scurvy once prevailed very seriously, it 
 has been banished since the introduction of the potato, 
 and, according to Lang and other good authorities, this 
 is owing to the use of potatoes by a people who 
 formerly were insufficiently supplied with saline vege- 
 table food. 
 
 Potash salts are freely soluble in water, and I find 
 that the water in which potatoes have been boiled con- 
 tains potash, as may be proved by boiling it down to 
 concentrate, then filtering and adding the usual potash 
 test, platinum chloride 
 
 oS Oe a 
 
Pe COOKERY OF VEGETABLES. I9l 
 
 It is evident that the skin of the potato must resist 
 this passage of the potash into the water, though it may 
 not fully prevent it. The bursting of the skin only 
 occurs at quite the latter stage of the cookery. The 
 greatest practical authorities on the potato, Irishmen, 
 appear to be unanimous. I do not remember to have 
 seen a pre-peeled potato in Ireland. I find that I can 
 at once detect by the difference of flavour whether a 
 potato has been boiled with or without its jacket, and 
 that this difference is evidently saline. 
 
 These considerations lead to another conclusion, 
 viz. that baked potatoes and fried potatoes, or potatoes 
 cooked in such a manner as to be eaten with their own 
 broth, as in Irish stew (in which cases the previous 
 peeling does no mischief), are preferable to boiled 
 potatoes. Steamed potatoes probably lose less of their 
 potash juices than when boiled; but this is uncertain, 
 as the modicum of distilled water condensed upon the 
 potato and continually renewed may wash away as much 
 as the larger quantity of hard water in which the boiled 
 potato is immersed. | 
 
 Those who eat an abundance of fruit, of raw salads, 
 and other vegetables supplying a sufficiency of potash 
 to the blood, may peel and boil their potatoes ; but the 
 poor Irish peasant, who depends upon the potato for all 
 his sustenance, requires that they shall supply him with 
 potash. 
 
 When travelling in Ireland (I explored every county 
 of that country rather exhaustively during three suc- 
 cessive summers when editing the 4th edition of Murray’s 
 ‘Handbook’), I was surprised at the absence of fruit- 
 trees in the small farms where one might expect them 
 to abound. On speaking of this the reason given was 
 that all trees are the landlord’s property ; that if a 
 
192 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 tenant should plant them they would suggest luxury — 
 
 and prosperity, and therefore a rise of rent; or other- 
 wise stated, the tenant would be fined for thus improving 
 the value of his holding. This was before the passing 
 of the Land Act, which we may hope will put an end to 
 such legalised brigandage. With the abolition of rack- 
 renting the Irish peasant may grow and eat fruit; may 
 even taste jam without fear and trembling; may grow 
 rhubarb and make pies and puddings in defiance of the 
 agent. When this is the case, his craving for potato- 
 potash will probably diminish, and his children may 
 actually feed on bread. 
 
 I have been told by an American lady that in the 
 fatherland of potatoes, as well as in their adopted country, 
 they are always boiled or steamed in their jackets: that 
 American cooks, like those of Ireland, would consider it 
 an outrage to cut off the protecting skin of the potato 
 before cooking it; that they are more commonly mashed 
 there than here, and that the mashing is done by rapidly 
 removing the skins and throwing the stripped potato into 
 
 a supplementary saucepan or other vessel, in which they © 
 
 may be kept hot until the preparation is completed. 
 
 As regards the nutritive value of the potato, it is 
 well to understand that the common notion concerning 
 its cheapness as an article of food is a fallacy, Taking 
 Dr. Edward Smith’s figures, 760 grains of carbon and 
 24 grains of nitrogen are contained in 1 Ib. of potatoes ; 
 24 lbs. of potatoes are required to supply the amount of 
 carbon contained in 1 lb. of bread ; and 34 Ibs. of potatoes 
 _ are necessary for supplying the nitrogen of 1 Ib. of bread. 
 With bread at 14d. per 1b., potatoes should cost less than 
 3a. per lb.in order to be as cheap as bread for the hard- 
 working man who requires an abundance of nitrogenous 
 food. 
 
 oe eel i i i 
 
~e 
 
 mae COUALAY OF VEGETABLES. 193 
 
 Potatoes contain 17 per cent. of carbon; oatmeal 
 has 73 per cent. Taking nitrogenous matter also into 
 consideration, 1 lb. of oatmeal is worth 6 lbs. of potatoes. 
 
 My own observations in Ireland have fully convinced 
 me of the wisdom of William Cobbett’s denunciation of 
 the potato as a staple article of food. The bulk that 
 has to be eaten, and is eaten, in order to sustain life, 
 converts the potato feeder into a mere assimilating 
 machine during a large part of the day, and renders him 
 unfit for any kind of vigorous mental or bodily exertion. 
 If I were the autocratic Czar of Ireland, my first step 
 towards the regeneration of the Irish people would be 
 the introduction, acclimatising, and dissemination of the 
 Colorado beetle, in order to produce a complete and 
 permanent potato famine. The effect of potato feeding 
 may be studied by watching the work of a potato-fed 
 Irish mower or reaper who comes across to work upon 
 an English farm where the harvestmen are fed in the 
 farmhouse and the supply of beer is not excessive. The 
 improvement of his working powers after two or three 
 weeks of English feeding is comparable to that of a 
 horse when fed upon corn, beans, and hay, after feeding 
 for a year on grass only. 
 
 My strictures on the potato do not apply to them 
 as used in England, where the prevailing vice of our 
 ordinary diet is that it is too carnivorous. The potatoes 
 we eat with our meat serve to dilute it, and supply the 
 farinaceous element in which flesh is deficient. 
 
 The reader may have observed that most of the 
 starch foods are derived from the roots or stems of 
 plants. Many others are used in tropical climates 
 where little labour is demanded or done, and, therefore, 
 but little nitrogenous food required. 
 
 O 
 
194 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 CHAPTER et 
 GLUTEN— BREAD. 
 
 HAVING treated the cookery of the chief constituents 
 of the roots and stems of the plant, the fibre and the 
 starch, I now come to food obtained from the seeds and 
 the leaves. 
 
 Taking the seeds first, as the more important, it 
 becomes necessary to describe the nitrogenous con- 
 stituents which are more abundant in them than in any 
 other part of the plant, though they also contain starch 
 and cell material, or woody fibre, as already stated. 
 
 In the preceding chapter I described a method of 
 
 separating starch from flour by washing a piece of © 
 
 dough in water, and thereby removing the starch granules, 
 which fall to the bottom of the water. If this washing 
 is continued until no further milkiness of the water is 
 produced, the piece of dough will be much reduced in 
 dimensions, and changed into a grey, tough, elastic, and 
 viscous or glutinous substance, which has been com- 
 pared to bird-lime, and has received the appropriate 
 name of g/uten. When dried, it becomes a hard, horny, 
 transparent mass. It is insoluble in cold water, and 
 partly soluble in hot water. It is soluble in strong 
 vinegar, and in weak solutions of potash or soda. If 
 the alkaline solution is neutralised by an acid, the gluten 
 {is precipitated. 
 
 If crude gluten, obtained as above, is subjected to the 
 
 ea 
 
GLUTEN—BREAD. 195 
 
 action of hot alcohol, it is separated into two distinct 
 substances, one soluble and the other insoluble. As the 
 solution cools, a further separation takes place of a 
 substance soluble in hot alcohol but not in cold, and 
 another soluble in either hot or cold alcohol. The first, 
 viz. that insoluble in either hot or cold alcohol, has been 
 named g/uten-fibrin ; that soluble in hot alcohol, but 
 not in cold, g/uten-casezn ; and that soluble in either hot 
 or cold alcohol, g/utzm. I give these names and explain 
 them, as my readers may be otherwise puzzled by meeting 
 them in books where they are used without explanation, 
 especially as there is another substance presently to be 
 described, to which the name of ‘vegetable casein’ has 
 also been applied. The gluten-fibrin is supposed to 
 correspond with blood-fibrin, gluten-casein with animal- 
 casein, and glutin with albumen. Their composition is 
 as follows, which I append for what it is worth in con- 
 nection with this theory, but mainly to show how small 
 is the difference between the chemical composition of 
 the nitrogenous constituents of animals and those of 
 plants. I shall come to this subject again: 
 
 — | Glnten-Fibrin Gluten-Casein Glutin 
 Carbon : ‘ . 53°23 53°46 Rats, 
 Hydrogen . ; ; 7°OI wets Velie 
 Nitrogen . ; 16°41 16°04 15°04 
 Oxygen and sulphur 4 ro ie A a3 7 23°62 
 
 — Be cheeks Animal-Casein Albumen 
 jSarbon-  -. : A 53°57 53°83 53°50 
 Hydrogen . : : 6°90 7°15 7°OO 
 Nitrogen . ; Teepe 15°65 15°50 
 
 Oxygen and sulphur : 22°81 pe ey | 24°00 
 
 Gluten is usually described as ‘partly soluble in hot 
 02 
 
196 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 water.’ My own examination of this substance suggests 
 that ‘partially soluble’ is a better description than 
 ‘partly soluble’ (Miller) or ‘very slightly soluble’ (Leh- — 
 mann). This difference is not merely a verbal quibble, 
 but very real and practical in reference to the vatzonale 
 of its cookery. A partly soluble substance is one which 
 is composed of soluble and also of insoluble constituents, 
 which, as already stated, is strictly the case with gluten 
 in reference to the solvent action of hot alcohol. A very 
 slightly soluble substance is one that dissolves completely, 
 but demands a very large quantity of the solvent. I 
 find that the action of hot water on gluten, as applied in 
 cookery, is to effect what may be described as a partial 
 solution—that is, it effects a loosening of the bonds of 
 solidity without going so far as to render it completely 
 fluid. 
 
 It appears to be a sort of hydration similar to that 
 which is effected by hot water on starch, but less de- 
 cided. 
 
 To illustrate this, wash some flour in cold water so as 
 to separate the gluten in the manner already described ; 
 then boil some flour as in making ordinary bill-stickers’ 
 paste, and wash this in cold water. The gluten will 
 come out with difficulty from this, and, when separated, 
 will be softer and less tenacious than the cold-washed 
 specimen. This difference remains until some of the 
 water it contains is driven out, for which reason I regard 
 it as hydrated, though I am not prepared to say that 
 the hydration is of a truly chemical character—a definite 
 chemical combination of gluten with water; it may be 
 only a mechanical combination—a loosening of solidity 
 by a molecular intermingling of water. 
 
 The importance of this in the cookery of grain-food 
 is very great, as anybody who aspires to the honour of 
 
GLUTEN—BREAD. 197 
 
 becoming a martyr to science may prove by simply 
 making a meal on raw wheat, masticating the grains 
 until reduced to small pills of gluten, and then swallow- 
 ing them. Mild indigestion or acute spasms will follow, 
 according to the quantity taken and the digestive ener- 
 gies of the experimenter. Raw flour will act similarly, 
 but less decidedly. 
 
 Bread-making is the most important, as well as a 
 typical example, of the cookery of grain-food. The 
 erinding of the grain is the first process of such cookery ; 
 it vastly increases the area exposed to the subsequent 
 actions. 
 
 The next stage is that of surrounding each grain of 
 the flour with a thin film of water. This is done in 
 making the dough by careful admixture of a modicum 
 of water and kneading, in order to squeeze the water 
 well between all the particles. The effect of insufficient 
 enveloping in water is sometimes seen in a loaf contain- 
 ing a white powdery kernel of unmixed flour. 
 
 If nothing more than this were done, and such simple 
 dough were baked, the starch granules would be duly 
 broken up and hydrated, the gluten also hydrated, but, 
 at the same time, the particles of flour would be so 
 cemented together as to form a mass so hard and tough 
 when baked, that no ordinary human teeth could crush 
 it. Among all our modern triumphs of applied science, 
 none can be named that is more refined and elegant 
 than the old device by which this difficulty is overcome 
 in the everyday business of making bread. Who in- 
 vented it, and when, I do not know. Its discovery 
 was certainly very far anterior to any knowledge of the 
 chemical principles involved in its application, and 
 probably accidental. 
 
 The problem has a very difficult aspect. Here are 
 
198 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 millions of particles, each of which has to be moistened 
 on its surface, but each, when thus moistened, becomes 
 remarkably adhesive, and therefore sticks fast to all its 
 surrounding neighbours. We require, without altogether 
 suppressing this adhesiveness, to interpose a barrier that 
 shall sunder these millions of particles from each other 
 
 so delicately as neither to separate them completely nor 
 
 allow them to completely adhere. 
 
 It is evident that, if the operation that supplies each 
 particle with its film of moisture can simultaneously 
 supply it with a partial atmosphere of gaseous matter, 
 the difficult and delicate problem will be effectively 
 solved. It is thus solved in making bread. 
 
 As already explained, the seed which is broken up 
 into flour contains diastase as well as starch, and this 
 diastase, when aided by moisture and moderate warmth, 
 converts the starch into dextrin and sugar. This ac- 
 tion commences when the dough is made; this alone 
 would only increase the adhesiveness of the mass, if it 
 went no further, but the sugar thus produced may, by 
 the aid of a suitable ferment, be converted into alcohol. 
 As the composition of alcohol corresponds to that of 
 
 sugar, minus carbonic acid, the evolution of carbonic — 
 
 acid gas is an essential part of this conversion. 
 
 With these facts before us, their practical application 
 in bread-making is easily understood. To the water 
 with which the flour is to be moistened some yeast is 
 added, and the yeast-cells, which are very much smaller 
 than the grains of flour, are diffused throughout the 
 water. The flour is moistened with this liquid, which 
 only demands a temperature of about 70° Fahr. to act 
 with considerable energy on every granule of flour that 
 it touches. Instead, then, of the passive, lumpy, tena- 
 cious dough produced by moistening the flour with mere 
 
GLUTEN—BREAD. 199 
 
 water, a lively ‘sponge,’ as the baker calls it, is produced, 
 which ‘rises’ or grows in bulk by the evolution and 
 interposition of millions of invisibly small bubbles of 
 gas. This sponge is mixed with more flour and water, 
 and kneaded and kneaded again to effect a complete 
 and equal diffusion of the gas bubbles, and finally, the 
 porous mass of dough is placed in an oven previcusly 
 raised to a temperature of about 450°. 
 
 The baker’s old-fashioned method of testing the tem- 
 perature of his oven is instructive. He throws flour on 
 the floor. If it blackens without taking fire, the heat is 
 considered sufficient. It might be supposed that this is 
 too high a temperature, as the object is to cook the 
 flour, not to burn it. But we must remember that the 
 flour which has been prepared for baking is mixed with 
 water, and the evaporation of this water will materially 
 lower the temperature of the dough itself. Besides this, 
 we must bear in mind that another object is to be 
 attained. <A hard shell or crust has to be formed, which 
 will so encase and support the lump of dough as to pre- 
 vent it from subsiding when the further evolution of 
 carbonic acid gas shall cease, which will be the case 
 some time before the cooking of the mass is completed. 
 It will happen when the temperature reaches the point 
 at which the yeast-cells can no longer germinate, which 
 temperature is considerably below the boiling point of 
 water. 
 
 In spite of this high outside temperature, that of the 
 inner part of the loaf is kept down to a little above 212° 
 by the evaporation of the water contained in the bread. 
 The escape of this vapour and the expansion of the 
 carbonic acid bubbles by heat combine to increase the 
 porosity of the loaf. 
 
 The outside being heated considerably above the 
 
200 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE as 
 
 temperature of the inner part, this variation produces 
 the differences between the crust and the crumb. The 
 action of the high temperature in directly converting 
 some of the starch into dextrin will be understood from 
 what I have already stated, and also the partial con- 
 version of this dextrin into caramel, which was described 
 in Chapter VII. 
 
 Thus we have in the crust an excess of dextrin as 
 compared with the crumb, and the addition of a variable 
 quantity of caramel. In lightly-baked bread, with a 
 crust of uniform pale yellowish colour, the conversion of 
 the dextrin into caramel has barely commenced, and 
 the gummy character of the dextrin coating is well 
 displayed. Some such bread, especially the long staves 
 of life common in France, appear as though they had 
 been varnished, and their crust is partially soluble in water. 
 
 This explains the apparent paradox that hard crust, 
 or dry toast, is more easily digested than the soft crumb 
 of bread ; the cookery of the crumb not having been 
 carried beyond the mere hydration of the gluten and the 
 starch, and such degree of dextrin formation as was due 
 to the action of the diastase of the grain during the pre- 
 liminary period of ‘rising.’ In the crust some of the 
 work of insalivation is already done by the baker. The 
 digestibility of toast is doubtless aided by its brittleness, 
 causing it to be more broken up and mixed with the 
 saliva. 
 
 Everybody has, of course, heard of ‘unfermented 
 bread,’ and many have tasted it. Several methods have 
 been devised, some patented, for effecting an evolution 
 of gas in the dough without having recourse to the fer- 
 mentation above described. One of these is that of 
 adding a little hydrochloric acid to the water used in 
 moistening the flour, and mixing bicarbonate of soda in 
 
 va 2 Re A Mey i a 
 
GLUTE N—BREAD. 301 
 
 powder with the flour (to every 4 lbs. of flour 4 oz. 
 bicarbonate and 44 fluid drachms of hydrochloric acid 
 of 1°16 specific gravity). These combine and form 
 sodium chloride,common salt, with evolution of carbonic 
 acid. The salt thus formed takes the place of that 
 usually added in ordinary bread-making, and the car- 
 bonic acid gas evolved acts like that given off in fermen- 
 ‘tation ; but the rapidity of the action of the acid and 
 carbonate presents a difficulty. The bread must be 
 quickly made, as the action is soon completed. It does 
 not go on steadily increasing and stopping just at the 
 right moment, as in the case of fermentation. 
 
 Other methods similar in principle have been adopted, 
 such as adding ammonia carbonate with the soda car- 
 bonate. The ammonia salt is volatile itself, besides 
 evolving carbonic acid by its union with the acid. 
 
 In spite of the great amount of ingenuity expended 
 upon the manufacture of such unfermented bread, and 
 the efforts to bring it into use, but little progress has 
 been made. The general verdict appears to be that the 
 unfermented bread is not so ‘sweet,’ that it lacks some 
 element of flavour, is ‘chippy’ or tasteless as compared 
 _ with good old-fashioned wheaten bread, free from alum 
 or other adulteration. My theory of this difference is 
 that it is due to the absence of those changes which take 
 place while the sponge or dough is rising, when, if I am 
 right, the diastase of the grain is operating, as in germi- 
 nation, to produce a certain quantity of dextrin and 
 sugar, and possibly acting also on thegluten. Deficiency 
 of dextrin is, I think, the chief cause of the chippy cha- 
 racter of aerated bread. It must be remembered that, in 
 ordinary bread-making, the fermentation is protracted 
 over several hours, during which the temperature most 
 favourable to germination is steadily maintained. 
 
502 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. ~ 
 
 The practical importance of the fermentation is 
 strikingly shown by the fact that, in the course of 
 sponge rising, dough rising, and baking, a loaf becomes 
 about four times as large as the original mixture of 
 flour, water, &c., of which it was made; or, otherwise 
 stated, an ordinary loaf is made up of one part of solid 
 bread to more than three parts of air bubbles or pores. 
 French rolls and some other kinds of fancy bread are 
 still more gaseous. 
 
 So far I have only named the flour, water, salt, and 
 yeast. These, with a little sugar or milk, added accord- 
 ing to taste and custom, are the ingredients of home- 
 made bread, but ‘bakers’ bread’ is commonly, though 
 not necessarily, somewhat more complex. There is the 
 material technically known as ‘fruit,’ and another which 
 
 bears the equivocal name of ‘stuff, or ‘rocky.’ The — 
 
 fruit are potatoes: The quantity of these prescribed in 
 
 - Knight’s ‘Guide to Trade’ is one peck to the sack of — 
 
 flour. This proportion is so small (about 3 per cent. by 
 weight) that, if not exceeded, it cannot be regarded as a 
 fraudulent adulteration, for the additional cost involved 
 in the boiling, skinning, and general preparing of the 
 small addition exceeds the saving in the price of raw 
 material. The fruit, therefore, is not added merely 
 because it is cheaper than flour, as many people suppose. 
 
 The instructions concerning its use given in the work 
 above named clearly indicate that the potato flour is used 
 to assist fermentation. These instructions prescribe that 
 
 the peck of potatoes shall be boiled in their skins, mashed © 
 
 in the ‘seasoning tub, then mixed with two or three quarts 
 of water, the same quantity of patent yeast, and three or 
 four pounds of flour. The mixture is left to stand for six 
 or twelve hours, when it will have become what is called 
 a ferment, After straining through a sieve, to separate 
 
 Te aE a eee a ee ee ee eee ee ee 
 
 Oe ee ee a 
 
GLOTEN—BREAD. 303 
 
 the skins of the fruit, it is mixed with the sack of flour, 
 water, &c. 
 
 It is evident from this that it would not pay to add 
 such a quantity in such a manner as a mere adulterant. 
 The baker uses it for improving the bread, from his. 
 point of view. 
 
 The stuff or rocky consists, according to Tomlinson, 
 of one part of alum to three parts of common salt. The 
 same authority tells us that the bakers buy this at 2d. per 
 packet, containing 1 lb. in each, and that they believe it 
 to be ground alum. They buy it thus for immediate 
 use, being subject to a heavy fine if they keep alum on 
 the premises. The quantity of the mixture ordinarily 
 used is 8 oz. to each sack of flour weighing 280 lbs., so 
 that the proportion of alum is but 2 oz. to 280 Ibs. As 
 one sack of flour is (with water) made into eighty loaves 
 weighing 4 lbs. each, the quantity of alum in 1 Ib. of 
 bread amounts to ;1,th of an oz. 
 
 The rationale of the action of this small quantity of 
 alum is still a chemical puzzle. That it has an appre- 
 ciable effect in improving the appearance of the bread is 
 unquestionable, and it may actually improve the quality 
 _ of bread made from inferior flour. 
 
 One of the baker’s technical tests of quality is the 
 manner in which the loaves of a batch separate from 
 each other. That they should break evenly and present 
 a somewhat silky rather than a lumpy fracture, is a 
 matter of trade estimation. When the fracture is rough 
 and lumpy, one loaf pulling away some of the just 
 belongings of its neighbour, the feelings of the orthodox 
 baker are much wounded. The alum is said to prevent 
 this impropriety, while an excess of salt aggravates it. 
 
 It appears to be a fact that this small quantity of — 
 alum whitens the bread. In this, as in so many other 
 
204 THE CHEMISTRY—OF COOK iia. 
 
 cases of adulteration, there are two guilty parties—the 
 buyer who demands impossible or unnatural appear- 
 ances, and the manufacturer or vendor who supplies the 
 foolish demand. The judging of bread by its whiteness 
 is a mistake which has led to much mischief, against 
 which the recent agitation for ‘whole meal’ is, I think, 
 an extreme reaction. 
 
 If the husk, which is demanded by the whole-meal 
 agitators, were as digestible as the inner flour, they 
 would unquestionably be right, but it is easy to show 
 that it is not, and that in some cases the passage of the 
 undigested particles may produce mischievous irritation 
 in the intestinal canal. My own opinion on this subject 
 (it still remains in the region of opinion rather than 
 of science) is that a middle course is the right one, viz. 
 that bread should be made of moderately-dressed or | 
 ‘seconds’ flour rather than over-dressed ‘firsts’ or un- 
 dressed ‘ thirds ’—z.e. unsifted whole-meal flour. 
 
 Such seconds flour does not fairly produce white 
 bread, and consumers are unwise in demanding white- 
 ness. In my household we make our own bread, but 
 occasionally, when the demand exceeds ordinary supply, 
 a loaf or two is bought from the baker. I find that, 
 with corresponding or identical flour, the baker’s bread 
 is whiter than the home-made, and proportionally in- 
 ferior. J may describe it as colourless in flavour, it 
 lacks the characteristic of wheaten sweetness. There 
 are, however, exceptions to this, as certain bakers are 
 now doing a great business in supplying what they call 
 ‘home-made’ or ‘farmhouse’ bread. It is darker in 
 colour than ordinary bread, but is sold nevertheless at a 
 higher price, and I find that it has the flavour of the 
 bread made in my own kitchen. When their customers 
 become more intelligent, all the bakers will doubtless 
 
GLUTEN—BREAD. 3 208 
 
 cease to incur the expense of buying packets of ‘ stuff’ 
 or ‘rocky,’ or any other bleaching abomination. 
 
 Liebig asserts that in certain cases the use of lime- 
 water improves the quality of bread. Tomlinson says 
 that ‘in the time of bad harvests, when the wheat is 
 damaged, the flour may be considerably improved, with- 
 out any injurious result whatever, by the addition of 
 from 20 to 40 grains of carbonate of magnesia to every 
 pound of flour.’ It is also stated that chalk has been 
 used for the same purpose. These would all act in 
 nearly the same manner by neutralising any acid, such 
 as acetic, that might already exist or be generated in 
 the course of fermentation. 
 
 When gluten is kept in a moist state, it slowly loses 
 its soft, elastic, and insoluble condition ; if kept in water 
 for a few days, it gradually runs down into a turbid, 
 slimy solution, which does not form dough when mixed 
 with starch. The gluten of imperfectly-ripened wheat, 
 or of flour or wheat that has been badly kept in the 
 midst of humid surroundings, appears to have fallen 
 partially into this condition, the gluten being an actively 
 hygroscopic substance. 
 
 Liebig’s experiments show that flour in which the 
 gluten has undergone this partial change may have its 
 original qualities restored by mixing 100 parts of flour 
 with 26 or 27 parts of saturated lime-water and a suffi- 
 ciency of ordinary water to work it into dough. I 
 suspect that the action of the alum is of a similar 
 kind, though this does not satisfactorily account for the 
 bleaching. 
 
 The action of sulphate of copper, which has been 
 used in Belgium and other places for improving the 
 appearance and sponginess of loaves, is still more mys- 
 terious than that of alum. Kuhlmann found that a single 
 
206 THE CHEMISTRY OF* COOKiAAae 
 
 grain in a 4-lb. loaf produced a marked alteration in the — 
 appearance of the bread. Fortunately this adulteration, 
 if perpetrated to a mischievous extent, may be easily 
 detected by acidulating the crumb, and then moistening 
 with a solution of ferrocyanide of potassium. The brown 
 colour thus produced betrays the presence of copper. 
 The detection of alum in small quantities is extremely — 
 difficult. 
 
 I should add that the ancient method of effecting 
 the fermentation of bread, which I understand is still 
 employed to some extent in France, differs somewhat 
 from the ordinary modern English practice. 
 
 When flour made into dough is kept for some time 
 moderately warm, it undergoes spontaneous fermenta- 
 tion, formerly described as ‘panary fermentation, and 
 supposed to be of a different nature from the fermenta- 
 tion which produces yeast. 
 
 Dough in this condition is called /eaven, and when 
 kneaded with fresh flour and water its fermentation is 
 communicated to the whole lump; hence the ancient 
 metaphors. In practice the leaven was obtained by 
 setting aside some of the dough of a previous batch, 
 and adding this to the next when its fermentation had 
 reached its maximum activity. One reason why the 
 modern method has superseded this appears to be that 
 the leaven is liable to proceed onward beyond the first 
 stage of fermentation, or that producing alcohol, and run 
 into the acetous, or vinegar-forming fermentation, pro- 
 ducing sour bread. Another reason may be that the 
 potato mixture above described, which is but another 
 kind of leaven, is more effectual and convenient. 
 
 Dr. Dauglish’s method (patented in 1856, 1857, and 
 1858) is based on the fact that water under pressure 
 absorbs and holds in solution a large quantity of car- 
 
GLUTEN—BREAD. 207 
 
 bonic acid gas, which escapes when the pressure is di- 
 minished, as in uncorking soda-water, &c. Dr. Dauglish 
 places the flour in a strong, air-tight iron vessel, then 
 forces water saturated with carbonic acid under high 
 pressure into this ; kneading-knives mix the dough by 
 _ their rotation. When the mixture is completed a trap 
 at the lower part of the globular iron vessel is opened. 
 The pressure of the confined carbonic acid above forces 
 the dough through this in a cylindrical jet or flat ribbon 
 as required, and this squirted cylinder or ribbon is 
 fashioned by suitable cutters, &c., into loaves. The com- 
 pressed gas expands, and the loaves are smartly baked 
 before the expansive energy of the gas is exhausted. It 
 is justly claimed for this process that it is far more 
 cleanly than the ordinary method of making bread, as 
 with suitable machinery such ‘aerated bread’ can be 
 made without handling. 
 
 The difference between new and stale bread is 
 familiar enough, but the nature of the difference is by 
 no means so commonly understood. It is generally 
 supposed to be a simple result of mere drying. That 
 this is not a true explanation may be easily proved by 
 repeating the experiments of Boussingault, who placed 
 a very stale loaf (six days old) in an oven for an hour, 
 during which time it was, of course, being further dried ; 
 _but, nevertheless, it came out as a new loaf. He found 
 that during the six days, while becoming stale, it only 
 lost I per cent. of its weight by drying, and that during 
 the one hour in the oven it lost 3$ per cent.in becoming 
 new, and apparently more moist. By using an air- 
 tight case instead of an ordinary oven, he repeated the 
 experiment several times in succession on the same piece 
 of bread, making it alternately stale and new each time. 
 
 For this experiment the oven should be but mode- 
 
208 THE CHEMISTRV OF COOKERY. 
 
 rately heated—260° to 300° Fahr. is sufficient. I am 
 fond of hot rolls for breakfast, and frequently have them 
 ala Boussingault, by treating stale bread-crusts in this 
 manner. My wife tells me that when the crusts have 
 been long neglected, and are thin, the Boussingault hot — 
 rolls are improved by dipping the crust in water before 
 putting it into the oven. This is not necessary in jm 
 experimenting with a whole loaf or a thick piece of stale 
 bread. 
 
 The crumb of bread, whether new or stale, contains 
 about 45 per cent. of water. Miller says ‘the difference 
 in properties between the two depends simply upon 
 difference in molecular arrangement.’ 
 
 This ‘molecular arrangement’ is the customary 
 modern method of explaining a multitude of similar 
 physical and chemical problems, or, as I would rather 
 say, of evading explanation under the cover of avague 
 conventional phrase. 
 
 I have made some simple experiments which supply 
 a visible explanation of the facts without invoking the 
 aid of any invisible atoms or molecules, or any imaginary 
 arrangements or rearrangements of these imaginary 
 entities. | 
 
 I find that, as bread becomes stale, its porosity appears 
 to increase, and that when renewed by reheating, it 
 returns to its original apparently smaller degree of poro- 
 sity. That this change can be only apparent is evident 
 from the facts that the total quantity of solid material 
 in the loaf remains the same, and its total dimensions 
 are retained more or less completely by the rigidity of . 
 the crust. I say ‘more or less, because this depends 
 upon the thickness and hardness of the crust, and also 
 upon the completeness of its surrounding. Lightly- 
 baked loaves shrink a little in dimensions in becoming 
 
wins ee 
 é . a 
 
 = 2 
 
 GLUTEN—BREAD. 206 
 
 stale, and partly regain the loss on reheating, but this 
 difference only exaggerates the apparent paradox of vary- 
 ing porosity, as the diminished bulk of a given quantity 
 of material displays increased porosity, and the increase 
 of total dimensions accompanies the diminished porosity. 
 I have obtained a reconciliation of this paradox by 
 careful examination of the structure of the crumb. This 
 shows that the larger or decidedly visible pores are cells 
 having walls of somewhat silky appearance. The silky 
 lustre and structure is, I have no doubt, due to a varnish 
 of dextrin, the gummy nature of which I have already 
 described. On looking alittle more closely at this inner 
 surface of the big blow-holes with the aid of a hand-lens 
 of moderate power, I find that it is not a continuous 
 varnish of gum, but a net-work or agglomeration of 
 gummy fibres and particles, barely touching each other. 
 
 My theory of the change that takes place as the bread 
 becomes stale is, that these fibres and particles gradually 
 approach each other either by shrinkage or adhesive 
 attraction, and thus consolidate and harden the walls of 
 each of the millions of easily visible pores, these walls 
 forming the solid material of which the loaf is made up. 
 In doing so they naturally increase the dimensions of 
 the visible pores, while the microscopic interstices or 
 spaces between the minute fibres of the cell walls are 
 diminished by the approximation or adhesion of the 
 fibres to each other. 
 
 This adhesion is probably aided by an oozing out or 
 efflorescence of the vapour held by the fibres, and its 
 condensation on their surfaces. This point, be it under- 
 stood, is merely hypothetical, as the efflorescence is not 
 visible. All the other phenomena I have just described 
 are visible either with the naked eye or by the aid of a lens. 
 
 When the stale bread is again heated, a general 
 
 FE 
 
210 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 expansion occurs by the conversion of liquid water into 
 aqueous vapour, every grain of water thus converted 
 expanding to 1,700 times its former bulk. As this hap- 
 pens throughout, ze. upon the surface of every one of 
 the countless fibres or particles, there must be a general 
 elbowing in the crowd, breaking up the recent adhesion 
 between these fibres and drawing them all apart in the 
 directions of least resistance ; ze. towards the open 
 spaces of the larger and visible pores, producing that 
 apparent diminution of porosity that I have observed as 
 the easily visible characteristic of the change. 
 
 This explanation may be further demonstrated by 
 
 cutting a loaf through the middle from top to bottom, 
 and exposing the cut surfaces. In this case the bread 
 becomes unequally stale, more so near the cut surface than 
 within. The unequal pull due to the greater approxima- 
 tion and adhesion of the fibres and small particles causes 
 a rupture of the exposed surface of the crumb, which 
 becomes cracked or fissured without any perceptible 
 alteration of the size of the visible pores. If the two 
 broken faces be now accurately placed together, the 
 halves thus closely joined, firmly tied, and placed for an 
 hour in the oven, it will be seen on separating them that 
 the chasms are considerably closed, though not quite 
 healed. Careful examination of the structure of the 
 inside, by breaking out a portion of the crumb, will 
 reveal that loosening which I have described. 
 
 ‘Popped corn’ is a peculiar example of starch 
 cookery. Here a certain degree of porosity is given to 
 an originally close-compacted structure of starch by the 
 simple operation of explosive violence due to the sudden 
 conversion into vapour of the water naturally associated 
 with the starch. The operation is too rapid for the 
 production of much dextrin. 
 
 i a * a Ae). died A 
 
 le es aS SS CU PS 
 
aii 
 
 BAP ERER. XLII, 
 
 VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 
 
 AS most of my readers doubtless know, peas, beans, 
 lentils and other seeds of leguminous plants are more 
 nutritious, theoretically, than the seeds of grasses, such 
 as wheat, barley, oats, maize, &c. I was glad to see at 
 the Health Exhibition a fine series of the South Ken- 
 sington cases, displaying in the simplest and most de- 
 monstrative manner the proximate analyses of the chief 
 materials of animal and vegetable food. I refer to them 
 now because they did not receive the attention they 
 deserve. On the opening day there was, out of all the 
 crowd, only one other besides myself bestowing any 
 attention upon them. These cases show 1 lb. of wheat, 
 oats, potatoes, peas, &c. &c., on trays; by the side of 
 these are bottles, containing the quantity of water in 
 the I lb. and other trays, containing the other con- 
 stituents of the same quantity ; the starch, gluten, casein, 
 the mineral matter, &c., thus displaying at a glance the 
 nutritious value of each so far as chemical analysis can 
 display it. Those Irishmen and others who think I have 
 been too hard upon the potato, will do well to take its 
 nutritive measure thus, and compare it with that of other 
 vegetable foods. I should add that these cases form a part 
 of the permanent collection of the South Kensington 
 
 Museum, and therefore may be studied at any time. 
 P2 
 
nie THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 All the leguminous seeds, the ground-nuts, &c., have 
 their nitrogenous constituents displayed under the name 
 of ‘casein. The use of this term is rather confusing. 
 In many modern books it does not appear at all in 
 connection with the vegetable kingdom, but is replaced 
 by ‘legumin.’ Liebig regarded this nitrogenous con- 
 stituent of the leguminous seeds, almonds, &c., as iden- 
 tical with the casein of milk, and it was a pupil and 
 friend of Liebig’s—the late Prince Consort—who devised 
 and originally supervised this graphic method of dis- 
 playing the chemistry of food." 
 
 I will not here discuss the vexed question of whether 
 the analyses of Liebig, identifying legumin with casein, 
 or rather those of Dumas and Cahours, who state that 
 the vegetable casein is not of the same compastiag as 
 animal casein, are correct. 
 
 The following figures display my justification for thus” 
 lightly treating the discussion : 
 
 — Casein Legumin Legumin Legumin 
 Carbon. ; ; 5357 50°50 55°05 56:24 
 Hydrogen. ; : We 6°78 7°59 7°07 
 Nitrogen . 16°6 18°17 15°89 15°83 
 | Oxygen and Sulphur . 2255 24°55 2147 19°96 
 
 The first column shows the results of Dumas for 
 animal casein; the second, those of Dumas and Cahours 
 for legumin ; the third, those of Jones for the same; and 
 
 1 Shortly after the close of the Great Exhibition of 1851, when the 
 South Kensington Museum was only in embryo, I had occasion to cali on 
 Dr. Lyon Playfair at the ‘ boilers,’ and there found the Prince hard at 
 work giving instructions for the arrangement and labelling of these analysed 
 food products and the similarly displayed materials of industry, such as 
 whalebone, ivory, &c. I then, by inquiry, learned how much time and 
 labour he was devoting, not only to the general business of the collection, 
 but also to its minor details. 
 
Pees arte CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 213 
 
 the fourth, those of Rochleder ; all as quoted by Leh- 
 mann. Here it will be seen that the differences upon 
 which Dumas and Cahours base their supposed refuta- 
 tion of the identity of the animal with the vegetable 
 principle are much smaller than the differences between 
 the results of different analyses of the latter. These 
 differences I suspect are all due to the difficulty of 
 isolating the substances in question, especially of the 
 vegetable substance, which is so intimately mixed with 
 the starch, &c., in its natural condition that complete 
 separation is of questionable possibility. The difficulty 
 (or impossibility) of driving off all the adhering water, 
 without removing the combined elements of water, is 
 a further source of discrepancy. 
 
 This will be understood by the following description 
 of the method of separation as given by Miller (‘ Ele- 
 ments of Chemistry, vol. iii.). ‘Legumin is usually ex- 
 tracted from peas or from almonds, by digesting the 
 pulp of the crushed seeds in warm water for two or three 
 hours. The undissolved portion is strained off by means 
 of linen, and the turbid liquid allowed to deposit the 
 starch which it holds in suspension ; it is then filtered 
 and mixed with dilute acetic acid. A white flocculent 
 precipitate is thus formed, which must be collected on a 
 filter and washed.’ 
 
 This is but a mechanical process, and its liability to 
 variation in result may be learned by anybody who will 
 repeat it, or who has separated the gluten of flour by 
 similar treatment. 
 
 Practically regarded in relation to our present Cser 
 caseinand legumin may be considered as the same. Their 
 nutritive values are equal, and exceptionally high, sup- 
 posing they can be digested and assimilated. One is 
 the most difficult of digestion of the nitrogenous consti- 
 
214 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKiaae 
 
 tuents of vegetable food, and the other enjoys the same 
 distinction among those of animal food. Both primarily 
 exist in a soluble form ; both are rendered solid and in- 
 soluble in water by the action of acids; both are pre- 
 cipitated as a curd by rennet, and both are rendered 
 soluble after precipitation,or are retained in their ori- 
 ginal soluble form by the action of alkalies. They nearly 
 resemble zz flavour, and John Chinaman makes actual 
 cheese from peas and beans, 
 
 Pease-pudding hot, pease-pudding cold, 
 Pease-pudding in the pot, nine days old. 
 
 I leave to Mr. Clodd the historical problem of deter- 
 mining whether this notable couplet is of Semitic, Aryan, 
 Neolithic, or Paleolithic origin. Regarded from my point 
 of view, it expresses a culinary and chemical principle of 
 some importance, and indicates an ancient practice that 
 is worthy of revival. 
 
 I have lately made some experiments on the ensilage 
 of human food, whereby the cellular tissue of the vege- 
 table may be gradually subjected to that breaking up of 
 fibre already described. One of the curious achieve- 
 ments of chemical metamorphoses that is often quoted 
 as a matter for wonderment is the conversion of old 
 rags into sugar by treating them with acid. The 
 wonderment of this is diminished, and its interest in- 
 creased, when we remember that the cellulose or woody 
 fibre of which the rags are composed has the same 
 composition as starch, and thus its conversion into 
 sugar corresponds to the every-day proceedings de- 
 scribed in Chapter XI. All that I have read and seen 
 in connection with the recent ensilage experiments on 
 cattle fodder indicate that it is a process of slow vegetable 
 cookery, a digesting or maceration of fibrous vegetables 
 
PHeEIAbLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 215 
 
 in their own juices, which loosens the fibre, renders it 
 softer and more digestible, and not only does this, but, 
 to some extent, converts it into dextrin and sugar. 
 
 I hereby recommend those gentlemen who have 
 ensilage-pits and are sufficiently enterprising to try bold 
 experiments, to water the fodder, as it is being packed 
 down, with dilute hydrochloric acid or acetic acid, which, 
 if I am not deluded by plausible theory, will materially 
 increase the sugar-forming action of the ensilage. The 
 acid, if not over-supplied, will find ammonia and other 
 bases with which to neutralise itself. 
 
 Such ensilage will correspond to that which occurs 
 when we gather Jersey or other superlatively fine pears 
 in autumn as soon as they are full grown. They are 
 then hard, woody, and acid, quite unfit for food, but by 
 simply storing them for a month, or two, or three, they 
 become lusciously tender and sweet; the woody fibres 
 are converted into sugar, the acid neutralised, and all 
 this by simply fulfilling the conditions of ensilage, viz. 
 close packing of the fibre, exclusion of air by the thick 
 rind of the fruit, f/ws the other condition which I have 
 just suggested, viz. the diffusion of acid among the 
 well-packed fibres of the ensilage material. 
 
 In my experiments on the ensilage of human food I 
 have encountered the same difficulty as that which has 
 troubled graziers in their experiments, viz. that small- 
 scale results do not fairly represent those obtained with 
 large quantities. There is besides this another element 
 of imperfection in my experiments respecting which I 
 am bound to be candid to my readers, viz. that the idea 
 of thus extending the principle was suggested in the 
 course of writing this series, and, therefore, a sufficient 
 time has not yet elapsed to enable me (with much other 
 occupation) to do practical justice to the investigation. 
 
216 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKEaa 
 
 I find that oatmeal-porridge is greatly improved by 
 being made some days before it is required, then stored 
 in a closed jar, brought forth and heated for use. The 
 change effected is just that which theoretically may be 
 expected, viz. a softening of the fibrous material, and a 
 sweetening due to the formation of sugar. This sweet- 
 ening I observed many years ago in some gruel that 
 was partly eaten one night and left standing until next 
 morning, when I thought it tasted sweeter; but to be 
 assured of this I had it warmed again two nights after- — 
 wards, so that it might be tasted under the same con- 
 ditions of temperature, palate, &c., as at first. The 
 sweetness was still more distinct, but the experiment was 
 carried no further. 
 
 I have lately learned that my ensilage notion is not 
 absolutely new. A friend who read my Cantor Lectures 
 tells me that he has long been accustomed to have his 
 porridge made some days before eating it, then having 
 it warmed up when required. He finds the result more 
 digestible than newly-made porridge. The classical nine 
 days’ old pease-pudding is a similar anticipation, and I 
 find, rather curiously, that nine days is about the limit 
 to which it may be practically kept in a cool place 
 before mildew—mouldiness—is sufficiently established 
 to spoil the pudding. I have not yet tried a barrel full of 
 pease-pudding or moistened pease-meal, closely covered 
 and powerfully pressed down, but hope to do so. 
 
 Besides these we have a notable example of ensilage 
 in sour-kraut—a foreign luxury that John Bull, with 
 his usual blindness, denounces, as a matter of course. 
 ‘Horrid stuff!’ ‘beastly mess!’ and such-like expressions 
 I hear whenever I name it to certain persons. Who are 
 these persons? Simply English men and English women 
 who have never seen, never tasted, and know nothing 
 
~ 
 
 Pee ee COLIN AND VEGETABLE FUICES. 217 
 
 whatever of what they denounce so violently, in spite of 
 the fact that it is a staple article of food among millions 
 of highly-intelligent people. Common sense (to say 
 nothing of that highest result of true scientific training, 
 the faculty of suspending judgment until the arrival of 
 knowledge) should suggest that some degree of investi- 
 gation should precede the denunciation. 
 
 In the cases of the sour-kraut and the ripening pear 
 there is acid at work upon the fibre, which, as I have before 
 stated, assists in the conversion of this indigestible con- 
 stituent into soluble and digestible dextrin and sugar. 
 
 The demand for the solution of the vegetable casein 
 or legumin, which has such high nutritive value and is 
 so abundant in peas, &c., is of the opposite kind. Acids 
 solidify and harden casein, alkalies soften and dissolve 
 it. Therefore the chemical agent suggested as a suit- 
 able aid in the ensilage or slow cookery, or the boiling or 
 rapid cookery, of leguminous food is such an alkali as 
 may be wholesome and compatible with the demands 
 for nutrition. ~ 
 
 The analyses of peas, beans, lentils, &c., show a de- 
 ficiency of potash salts as compared with the quantity 
 of nitrogenous nutriment they contain; therefore I pro- 
 pose, as in the case of cheese food, that we should add 
 this potash in the convenient and safe form of bicar- 
 bonate—not merely add it to the water in which the 
 vegetables may be boiled, and which water is thrown 
 away (as in the common practice of adding soda when 
 boiling greens), but add the potash to the actual pease- 
 porridge, pease-pudding, lentil soup, &c., and treat it as 
 a part of the food as well as an adjunct to the cookery. 
 This is especially required when we use dried peas, dried 
 beans of any kind, such as haricots, dried lentils, &c. 
 
 I find that taking the ordinary yellow split-peas and 
 
218 THE CHEMISTRY. OF COCKE a. 
 
 boiling them in a weak solution of bicarbonate of potash 
 for two or three hours, a partial solution of the casein is 
 effected, producing pease-pudding, or pease-porridge, or 
 purée (according to the quantity of water used), which is 
 softer and more gelid than that which is obtained by 
 similarly boiling without the potash. The undissolved 
 portion evidently consists of the fibrous tissue of the 
 peas, the gelatinous or dissolved portion being the starch, 
 with more or less of casein. I say ‘more or less,’ because 
 at present I have not been able to determine whether or 
 not the casein is aM rendered soluble. 
 
 The flavour of the clear pea-soup which I obtained 
 by filtering through flannel shows that some of the 
 casein is dissolved; this is further demonstrated by add- 
 ing an acid to the clear solution, which at once precipi- 
 tates the dissolved casein. The filtered pea-soup sets to 
 a stiff jelly on cooling, and promises to be a special food 
 of some value, but for the reasons above stated, I am not 
 yet able to speak positively as to its quantitative value. 
 The experience of any one person is not sufficient for 
 this, the question being, not whether it contains nutritive 
 material—this is unquestionable—but whether it is easily 
 digested and assimilated. As we all know, a food of 
 this kind may ‘agree’ with some persons and not with 
 others—ze. it may be digested and assimilated with ease 
 or with difficulty according to personal idiosyncrasies. 
 The'cheesy character of the abundant precipitate which 
 I obtain by acidulating this solution is very interesting 
 and instructive, regarded from a chemical point of view. 
 The solubility of the casein is increased by soaking the 
 peas for some hours, or, better still, a few days, in the 
 solution of bicarbonate of potash. 
 
 Another question is opened by these experiments, 
 viz. what is the character and the value of the fibrous 
 
 7 
 7 
 i 
 
VEGETABLE CHSELIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 219 
 
 solid matter remaining behind after filtering out the clear 
 pea-soup? Has the alkali acted in an opposite manner 
 to the acid in the ripening pear? Is it merely a fibrous 
 refuse only fit for pig-food, or is it deserving of further 
 attention in the kitchen? Should it be treated with 
 dilute acid—say a little vinegar—to break up the fibre, 
 and thereby be made into good porridge ?) Other ques- 
 tions crop up here as they have been cropping con- 
 tinually since I committed myself to the writing of these 
 papers, and so abundantly that if I could afford to set 
 up a special laboratory, and endow it with a staff of 
 assistants, there would be some years’ work for myself 
 and staff before I could answer them exhaustively, and, 
 doubtless, the answers would suggest new questions, and 
 so on ad infinitum. I state this in apology for the 
 merely suggestive crudity of many of the ideas that I 
 have thrown out. 
 - Before leaving the subject of peas, I must here repeat 
 a practical suggestion that I published in the ‘ Birming- 
 ham Journal, about twenty years ago, viz. that the 
 water in which green peas are boiled should not be 
 thrown away. It contains much of the saline consti- 
 tuents of the peas, some soluble casein, and has a fine 
 flavour, the very essence of the peas. If to this, as it 
 comes from the saucepan, be added a little stock, or 
 some Liebig’s ‘Extract, a delicious soup is at once 
 produced, requiring nothing more than ordinary season- 
 ing. With care, it may form a clear soup such as just 
 now is in fashion among the fastidious, but prepared 
 however roughly, it is a very economical, wholesome, and 
 appetising soup, and costs a minimum of trouble. 
 
 I must here add a few words in advocacy of the further 
 adoption in this country of the French practice of using 
 as potage the water in which vegetables generally (ex- 
 
220 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKER 
 
 cepting potatoes) have been boiled. When we boil 
 cabbages, turnips, carrots, &c., we dissolve out of them a 
 very large proportion of their saline constituents ; salts ~ 
 which are absolutely necessary for the maintenance of 
 health ; salts without which we become victims of gout, 
 rheumatism, lumbago, neuralgia, gravel, and all the ills 
 that human flesh with a lithic acid diathesis is heir to; 
 7.é. about the most painful series of all its inheritances. 
 The potash of these salts existing therein in combination 
 with organic acids is separated from these acids by ~ 
 organic combustion, and is then and there presented to 
 the baneful lithic acid of the blood and tissues, the stony 
 torture-particles of which it converts into soluble lithate 
 of potash, and thus enables them to be carried out of the 
 system. 
 
 I know not which of the Fathers of the Church in- 
 vented fast-day and soupe mazgre, but could almost sup- 
 pose that he was a scientific monk, a profound alchemist, 
 like Basil Valentine, who, in his seekings for the aurum 
 potabie, the elixir of life, had learned the beneficent 
 action of organic potash salts on the blood, and therefore 
 used the authority of the Church to enforce their frequent 
 use among the-faithful. 
 
 The above remarks when published in ‘ Knowledge’ 
 invoked much correspondence, including many inquiries 
 for further information concerning the salts that should 
 be contained in our food, and in what other form they 
 might be obtained. 
 
 I therefore add the following, especially as I can 
 speak from practical experience of the miseries that may 
 be escaped by understanding and applying it. I inherit 
 what is called a ‘lithic acid diathesis. My father and 
 his brothers were martyrs to rheumatic gout, and died 
 early in consequence. I had a premonitory attack 
 
VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 221 
 
 of gout at the age of twenty-five, and other warning 
 
 symptoms at other times, but have kept the enemy 
 
 - at bay during forty years by simply understanding 
 
 that this lithic acid (stony acid) combines with potash, 
 forming thus a soluble salt, which is safely excreted. 
 Otherwise it is deposited here or there, producing’ gout, 
 rheumatism, stone, gravel, and other dreadfully painful 
 diseases, which are practically incurable when the deposit 
 is fairly established. By effecting the above-named com- 
 bination in the blood the deposition is prevented. 
 
 The potash required for the purpose exists in several 
 conditions. First, in its uncombined state as caustic 
 potash. This is poison, for the simple reason that it 
 combines so vigorously with organic matter that it 
 would decompose the digestive organs themselves if 
 presented tothem. The lower carbonate is less caustic, 
 the bicarbonate nearly, but not quite, neutral. Even 
 this, however, should not be taken as /ood, because it is 
 capable of combining with the acid constituents of the 
 gastric juice. 
 
 The proper compounds to be used are those which 
 correspond to the salts existing in the juices of vegetables 
 
 -- and flesh, viz. compounds of potash with orxganic acids, 
 
 such as tartaric acid, which forms the potash salt of the 
 grape; such as citric acid, with which potash is combined 
 in lemons and oranges ; malic acid, with which it its 
 combined in apples and many other fruits ; the natural 
 acids of vegetables generally ; lactic acid in milk, &c. 
 All these acids, and many others of similar origin, 
 are composed of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen, held 
 together with such feeble affinity that they are easily 
 dissociated or decomposed by heat. This may be shown 
 by heating some cream of tartar or tartaric acid ona 
 strip of metal or glass. It will become carbonised to a 
 
222 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK EAs 
 
 cinder, like other organic matter. If the heat is raised 
 sufficiently this cinder will all burn away to carbonic 
 acid and water in the case of the pure acid, or will leave © 
 carbonate of potash if cream of tartar or other potash 
 salt is thus burned. | | 
 
 Unless I am mistaken, this represents violently what 
 occurs gradually and mildly in the human body, which 
 is in a continuous state of slow combustion so long as it 
 is alive. The organic acids of the potash salts suffer 
 slow combustion, give off their excess of carbonic acid 
 and water to be breathed out, evaporated, and ejected, 
 leaving behind their potash, which combines with the 
 otherwise stony lithic acid just when and where it 
 comes into separate existence by the organic actions 
 which effect the above-described slow combustion. ~ 
 
 If we take potash in combination with a mineral 
 acid, such as the sulphuric, nitric, or hydrochloric, no 
 such decomposition is possible; the bonds uniting the 
 elements of the mineral acid are too strong to be 
 sundered by the mild chemistry of the living body, and 
 the mineral acid, if separated from its potash base, would 
 be most mischievous, as it precipitates the lithic acid in 
 its worst form. 
 
 For this reason, all free mineral acids are poisons to 
 those who have a lithic acid diathesis ; they may even 
 create it where it did not previously exist. Hence the 
 iniquity of cheapening the manufacture of lemonade, 
 ginger-beer, &c., by using dilute sulphuric or hydro- 
 chloric acid as a substitute for citric or tartaric acid. I 
 shall presently come to the cookery of wines, and 
 have something to say about the mineral acids used 
 in producing the choicer qualities of some very ‘dry,’ 
 high-priced samples which, according to my view of the 
 subject, have caused the operations of lithotomy and 
 
VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 223 
 
 lithotrity to be included among the luxuries of the 
 rich. 
 
 It should be understood that when I recommended 
 the use of bicarbonate of potash for the solution of 
 - casein, all these principles were kept in view, including 
 the objection to the bicarbonate itself. In the case of 
 the cheese, the quantity recommended was based on an 
 estimate of the quantity of lactic acid existing in the 
 cheese and capable of leaving the casein to go over to 
 the potash. In the case of the peas the quantity is diffi- 
 cult to estimate, owing to its variability. The more cor- 
 rect determination of such quantities is among the objects 
 of further research to which I have before alluded. 
 
 Speaking generally it is not to the laboratory of the 
 chemist that we should go for our potash salts, but to 
 the laboratory of nature, and more especially to that of 
 the vegetable kingdom. ‘They exist in the green parts 
 of all vegetables. This is illustrated by the manufacture 
 of commercial potash from the ashes of the twigs and 
 leaves of timber trees. The more succulent the vegetable 
 the greater the quantity of potash it contains, though 
 there are some minor exceptions to this. As I have 
 already stated, we extract and waste a considerable 
 proportion of these salts when we boil vegetables and 
 throw away the fotage, which our wiser and more 
 thrifty neighbours add to their every-day menu. When 
 we eat raw vegetables, as in salads, we obtain all their 
 potash. 
 
 Fruits generally contain important quantities of potash 
 salts, and it is upon these especially that the possible 
 victims of lithic acid should rely. Lemons and grapes 
 contain them most abundantly. Those who cannot 
 afford to buy these as articles of daily food may use 
 cream of tartar, which, when genuine, is the natural salt 
 
224 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 of the grape, thrown down in the manner I shall describe 
 when on the subject of the cookery of wines. 
 
 At the risk of being accused of presumption, I must 
 here protest, as a chemist, against one of ‘the fallacies 
 of the faculty,’ or of certain members of the faculty, 
 viz. that of indiscriminately prohibiting to gouty and 
 rheumatic patients the use of acids or anything having 
 an acid taste. 
 
 This has probably arisen from experience of the fact 
 that szzzeral acids do serious mischief, and that alkaline | 
 carbonate of potash affords relief. The difference be- 
 tween the organic acids, which are decomposed in the 
 manner I have described, and the fixed composition of 
 the mineral acids, does not appearto have been sufficiently 
 studied by those who prohibit fruit and vegetables on 
 account of their acidity. It must never be forgotten 
 that nearly all the organic compounds of potash, as they 
 exist in vegetables and fruit, are acid. It may be 
 desirable, in some cases, to add a little bicarbonate of — 
 potash to neutralise this excess of acid and increase the 
 potash supply. I have found it advantageous to throw ~ 
 a half-saltspoonful of this into a tumbler of water con- 
 taining the juice of a lemon, and have even added it to 
 stewed or baked rhubarb and gooseberries. In these it 
 froths like whipped cream, and diminishes the demand 
 for sugar, an excess of which appears to be mischievous 
 to those who require much potash. 
 
 I must conclude this sermon on the potash text by 
 adding that it is quite possible to take an excess of this 
 solvent. Such excess is depressing ; its action is what 
 is called ‘lowering. I will not venture upon an expla- 
 nation of the vatzonale of this lowering, or discuss the 
 question of whether or not the blood is made watery, as 
 sometimes stated, 
 
VEGETABLE CASEIN AND VEGETABLE JUICES. 225 
 
 Intimately connected with this part of my subject is © 
 another vegetable principle that I have not yet named. 
 This is vegetable jelly, or pectzn, the jelly of fruits, of 
 turnips, carrots, parsnips, &c. Fremy has named it fec- 
 tose. Like the saline juices of meat it is very little 
 changed by cookery. An acid may be separated from 
 it which has been named ‘pectic acid,’ the properties and 
 artificial compounds of which appear to me to suggest 
 the theory that the natural jelly of fruits largely con- 
 sists of compounds of this acid with potash or soda or 
 lime. We all know the appearance and flavour of cur- 
 rant jelly, apple jelly, &c., which are composed of natural 
 vegetable jelly plus sugar. 
 
 The separation of these jellies is an operation of 
 cookery, and one that deserves more attention than it 
 receives. I shall never forget the vahat /akoum, prepared 
 for the Sultana, which I once had the privilege of eating in 
 the kitchen of the Seraglio of Stamboul, where it was pre- 
 sented to me by his Excellency the Grand Confectioner 
 as a sample of his masterpiece. Its basis was the pure 
 pectose of many fruits, the inspissated juices of grapes, 
 peaches, pine-apples, and I know not what others. 
 The sherbet was similar, but liquid. Well may they 
 obey the Prophet and abstain from the grosser concoc- 
 tions that we call wine when such ambrosial nectar as 
 this is supplied in its place! It is to Imperial Tokay 
 as tokay is to table-beer! I tasted many other choice 
 confections there, and when J find myself defending the 
 Turk against his many enemies, my conscience some- 
 times asks whether my politics have been influenced by 
 the remembrance of that visit. 
 
 The ‘lumps of delight’ sold by our confectioners 
 are imitations made of flavoured gelatin. Similar 
 
 Q 
 
526 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 substitutes are sold in Constantinople. The same as 
 regards the sherbet. 
 
 I conclude this part of my subject by re-echoing Mr. 
 Gladstone’s advocacy of the extension of fruit culture. 
 We shamefully neglect the best of all food, in eating and 
 drinking so little fruit. As regards cooked fruit, I say 
 jam for the million, jelly for the luxurious, and juice for 
 all. With these in abundance, the abolition of alcoholic 
 drinks will follow as a necessary result of natural nausea. 
 
 I may add that besides the letters asking for the 
 further information here given, I have since received 
 several others from readers who have adopted the diet 
 above prescribed with good practical results. 
 
 I have further learned that vegetarians are remark- 
 ably free from the lithic acid troubles above named, and 
 that many who were sufferers before they became vege- 
 tarians have subsequently escaped. 
 
 The testimony of a large number is demanded in 
 such subjects, as individual examples may depend upon 
 individual peculiarities of constitution, 
 
227 
 
 GHAPTER XIV, 
 
 COUNT RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 
 
 I MUST not leave the subject of vegetable cookery with- 
 out describing Count Rumford’s achievements in feeding 
 the paupers, rogues,,and vagabonds of Munich. An 
 account of this is the more desirable, from the fact that 
 the ‘soup’ which formed the basis of his dietary is still 
 misunderstood in this country, for reasons that I shall 
 presently state. 
 
 After reorganising the Bavarian army, not only as 
 regards military discipline, but in the feeding, clothing, 
 education, and useful employment of the men, in order 
 to make them good citizens as well as good soldiers, he 
 attacked a still more difficult problem—that of removing 
 from Bavaria the scandal and burden of the hordes of 
 beggars and thieves which had become intolerable. He 
 tells us that ‘the number of itinerant beggars of both 
 sexes, and all ages, as well foreigners as natives, who 
 strolled about the country in all directions, levying con- 
 tributions from the industrious inhabitants, stealing and 
 robbing, and leading a life of indolence and most shame- 
 less debauchery, was quite incredible ;’ and, further, that 
 ‘these detestable vermin swarmed everywhere, and not 
 only their impudence and clamorous importunity were 
 without any bounds, but they had recourse to the most 
 diabolical acts and most horrid crimes in the prosecution 
 of their infamous trade. Young children were stolen 
 
 Q2 
 
228 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE 
 
 from their parents by these wretches, and their eyes put 
 out, or their tender limbs broken and distorted, in order, 
 by exposing them thus maimed, to excite the pity and 
 commiseration of the public. He gives further par- 
 ticulars of their trading upon the misery of their own 
 children, and their organisation to obtain alms by 
 systematic intimidation. Previous attempts to cure the 
 evil had failed, the public had lost all faith in further 
 projects, and therefore no support was to be expected 
 for Rumford’s scheme. ‘Aware of this,’ he says, ‘I took 
 my measures accordingly. To convince the public that 
 the scheme was feasible, I determined first, by a great 
 exertion, to carry it into complete execution, and ¢hen 
 to ask them to support it.’ 
 
 He describes the military organisation by which he 
 distributed the army throughout the country districts to 
 capture all the strolling provincial beggars, and how, on 
 Jan. 1, 1790, he bagged all the beggars of Munich in less 
 than an hour by means of a well-organised civil and 
 military dattue, New Year’s Day being the great festival 
 when all the beggars went abroad to enforce their 
 customary black-mail upon the industrious section of 
 the population. Though very interesting, I must not 
 enter upon these details, but cannot help stepping a 
 little aside from my proper subject to quote his weighty 
 words on the ethical principles upon which he proceeded. 
 He says that ‘with persons of this description, it is easy 
 to be conceived that precepts, admonitions, and punish- 
 ments would be of little avail. But where precepts fail, 
 habits may sometimes be successful. To make vicious 
 and abandoned people happy, it has generally been sup- 
 posed necessary, first, to make them virtuous. But why 
 not reverse this order? Why not make them first Lappy 
 and then virtuous? If happiness and virtue be z7- 
 
ROUMPORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. : 229 
 
 separable, the end will as certainly be attained by one 
 method as by the other; and it is most undoubtedly 
 much easier to contribute to the happiness and com- 
 fort of persons in a state of poverty and misery than, 
 by admonitions and punishments, to improve their 
 morals.’ . 
 
 He applied these principles to his miserable material 
 with complete st:-vess, and, referring to the result, ex- 
 claims, ‘Would to God that my success might encourage 
 others to follow my example!’ Further examination 
 of his proceedings shows that, in order to follow such 
 example, a knowledge of first principles and a de- 
 termination to carry them out in bold defiance of vulgar 
 ignorance, general prejudice, and, vilest of all, polite 
 sneering, is necessary. 
 
 Having captured the beggars thus cleverly, he pro- 
 ceeded to carry out the above-stated principle by taking 
 them to a large building already prepared, where 
 ‘everything was done that could be devised to make 
 them veally comfortable? The first condition of such 
 comfort, he maintains, is cleanliness, and his dissertation 
 on this, though written so long ago, might be quoted in 
 letters of gold by our sanitarians of to-day. 
 
 Describing how he carried out his principles, he says 
 of the prisoners thus captured: ‘Most of them had 
 been used to living in the most miserable hovels, in the 
 midst of vermin and every kind of filthiness, or to sleep 
 in the streets and under the hedges, half naked and 
 exposed to all the inclemencies of the seasons. A large 
 and commodious building, fitted up in the neatest and 
 most comfortable manner, was now provided for their 
 reception. In this agreeable retreat they found spacious 
 and elegant apartments kept with the most scrupulous 
 neatness ; well warmed in winter and well lighted; a 
 
230 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 good warm dinner every day, gratzs, cooked and served 
 up with all possible attention to order and cleanliness ; 
 materials and utensils for those that were able to work ; 
 masters gratis for those who required instruction ; the 
 most generous pay, zz money, for all the labour per- 
 formed ; and the kindest usage from every person, from 
 the highest to the lowest, belonging to the establish- 
 ment. Here in this asylum for the indigent and un- 
 fortunate, no ill-usage, no harsh language is permitted. 
 During five years that the establishment has existed, not 
 a blow has been given to anyone, not even to a child by 
 his instructor.’ 
 
 This appears like the very expensive scheme of a 
 benevolent utopian ; but, to set my readers at rest on 
 this point, I will anticipate a little by stating that, 
 although at first some expense was incurred, all this was 
 finally repaid, and, at the end of six years, there re- 
 mained a net profit of 100,000 florins, ‘after expenses 
 of every kind, salaries, wages, repairs, &c., had been 
 deducted.’ 
 
 When will our workhouses be administered with | 
 similar results ? 
 
 I must not dwell upon his devices for gradually 
 inveigling the lazy creatures into habits of industry, for 
 he understood human nature too well to adopt the 
 gaoler’s theory, which assumes that every able-bodied 
 man can do a day’s work daily, in spite of previous 
 habits. Rumford’s patients became industrious ulti- 
 mately, but were not made so at once. 
 
 This development of industry was one of the elements 
 of financial and moral success, and the next in im- 
 portance was the economy of the commissariat, which 
 depended on Rumford’s skilful cookery of the cheapest 
 viands, rendering them digestible, nutritious, and palat- 
 
RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 231 
 
 able. Had he adopted the dietary of an English work- 
 house or an English prison, his financial success would 
 have been impossible, and his patients would have been 
 no better fed, nor better able to work. 
 
 The staple food was what he calls a ‘soup,’ but I 
 find, on following out his instructions for making it, that 
 I obtain a porridge rather than a soup. He made many 
 experiments, and says: ‘I constantly found’ that the 
 richness or quality of a soup depended more upon a 
 proper choice of the ingredients, and a proper manage- 
 ment of the fire in the combination of these ingredients, 
 than upon the quantity of solid nutritious matter em- 
 ployed ;—much more upon the art and skill of the cook 
 than upon the sum laid out in the market.’ 
 
 Our vegetarian friends will be interested in learning 
 that at first he used meat in the soup provided for the 
 beggars, but gradually omitted it, and the change was 
 unnoticed by those who ate, and no difference was 
 observable as regards its nutritive value. 
 
 In 1790, little, or rather nothing, was known of the 
 chemistry of food. Oxygen had been discovered only 
 sixteen years before, and chemical analysis, as now 
 understood, was an unknown art. In spite of this 
 Rumford selected as the basis of his soup just that 
 proximate element which we now know to be one of 
 the most nutritious that he could have obtained from 
 either the animal or vegetable kingdom—viz. casezn. 
 He not only selected this, but he combined it with those 
 other constituents of food which our highest refine- 
 ments of modern practical chemistry and physiology 
 have proved to be exactly what are required to supple- 
 ment the casein and constitute a complete dietary. By 
 
 selecting the cheapest form of casein and the cheapest 
 
 sources of the other constituents, he succeeded in supply- 
 
= 
 
 232 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCK iia. 
 
 ing the beggars with good hot dinners daily at the cost 
 of less than one halfpenny each. The cost of the mess 
 for the Bavarian soldiers under his command was rather 
 more, viz. twopence daily, three farthings of this being 
 devoted to pure luxuries, such as beer, &c. | 
 
 Some of his chemical speculations, however, have not 
 been confirmed. The composition of water had just 
 been discovered, and he found by experience that a 
 civen quantity of solid food was more satisfying to the 
 appetite and more effective in nutrition when made into 
 soup by long boiling with water. This led him to sup- 
 pose that the water itself was decomposed by cookery, 
 and its elements recombined or united with other ele- 
 ments, and thus became nutritious by being converted 
 into the tissues of plants and animals. 
 
 Thus, speaking of the barley which formed an impor- 
 tant constituent of his soup, he says: ‘It requires, it is 
 true, a great deal of boiling; but when it is properly 
 managed, it thickens a vast quantity of water, and, as I 
 suppose, prepares it for decomposition’ (the italics are his 
 own). 
 
 We now know that this idea of decomposing water by 
 such means is a mistake ; but, in my own opinion, there 
 is something behind it which still remains to be learned 
 by modern chemists. In my endeavours to fathom the 
 rationale of the changes which occur in cookery, I have 
 been (as my. readers will remember) continually driven 
 into hypotheses of hydration, ze. of supposing that some 
 of the water used in cookery unites to form true chem- 
 ical compounds with certain of the constituents of the 
 food. As already stated, when I commenced this subject 
 I had no idea of its suggestiveness, of the wide field of 
 research which it has opened out. One of these lines 
 of research is the determination of the nature of this 
 
MeeerOnD ss COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 233 
 
 hydration of cooked gelatin, fibrin, cellulose, casein, 
 starch, legumin, &c. That water is zwzti them when they 
 are cooked is evident enough, but whether that water is 
 brought into actual chemical combination with them in 
 such wise as to form new compounds of additional nutri- 
 tive value. proportionate to the chemical addition of 
 water, demands so much investigation that I have been 
 driven to merely theorise where I ought to have demon- 
 strated. 
 
 The fact that the living body which our food is build- 
 ing up and renewing contains about 80 per cent. of water, 
 some of it combined, and some of it uncombined, has a 
 notable bearing on the question. We may yet learn that 
 hydration and dehydration have more to do with the 
 vital functions than has hitherto been supposed. 
 
 The following are the ingredients used by Rumford 
 in ‘Soup No. 1’ 
 
 Weight 
 Avoirdupois, Cost. 
 Ibs, Oz. ao SS 
 4 wertels of pearl barley, equal to about 20} 
 gallons . 2 ; : ‘ . a Ate 2 Or 74 
 4 viertels of peas . ‘ . . et 3l 4 eli yo paacy 3 
 Cuttings of fine wheaten es . : ee OF alo O10 2+ 
 atts ‘ ‘ ; 19 13 OT, vod 
 24 maass, very eck bees, vinegar, or rather 
 small beer turned sour, about 24 quarts . 46 13 [Oler a 52 
 Water, about 560 quarts els , Ter yin ke at ae 
 1,485 10 1h ee) 
 Fuel, 88 Ibs. dry pine wood . : . ; é +250'n,0 2128 
 Wages of three cook maids, at 20 florins a year Be ; 7.00) 32 
 Daily oa of feeding the three cook maids, at I0 creutzers 
 (32 pence sterling) each, according to ey , LO SOutt y 
 Daily wages of two men servants . : . 1 0 1e 7} 
 Repairs of kitchen furniture (go florins per ann.) daily : i OiaD, (= Si 
 
 Total daily expenses when dinner is provided for 
 I,200 persons : : . : ‘ ACT ey 
 
234 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE 
 
 This amounts to ;42%, or a trifle more than 3 of a 
 penny for each dinner of this No. 1 soup. Thecost was 
 still further reduced by the use of the potato, then a 
 novelty, concerning which Rumford makes the following 
 remarks, now very curious. ‘So strong was the aversion 
 of the public, particularly the poor, against them at the 
 time when we began to make use of them in the public 
 kitchen of the House of Industry in Munich, that we 
 were absolutely obliged, at first, to introduce them by 
 stealth. A private room in a retired corner was fitted 
 up as a kitchen for cooking them ; and it was necessary 
 to disguise them, by boiling them down entirely, and 
 destroying their form and texture, to prevent their being 
 detected.’ The following are the ingredients of ‘ Soup 
 No. 2,’ with potatoes : 
 
 Weight 
 Avoirdupois. Cost. 
 
 lbs. © oz. Ges. ie. 
 2 viertels of pearl barley . ; + SFO aO O 5 (983 
 2 viertels of peas. ‘ : : : » . SOSTIEG 0). 3.978 
 8 viertels of potatoes . ‘ ; : < (230% = o © Of 
 Cuttings of bread ; . “ . » 69 10 o10 24 
 Salt 4 ; ; ; ; ; ; Pe Gt OM e2e 
 Vinegar. ; : F ; ‘ « 46.13 Oo 1 53 
 Water ‘ : ; : ; Z » 982° 15 — 
 Fuel, servants, repairs, &c., as before . ‘ e : -O 3 5 
 
 Total daily cost of 1,200 dinners, . ae pe yaks 
 
 This reduces the cost to a little above one farthing 
 per dinner. 
 
 In the essay from which the above is quoted, there 
 is another account, reducing all the items to what they 
 would cost in London in November 1795, which raises 
 the amount to 232 farthings per portion for No. 1, and 
 21 farthings for No. 2. In this estimate the expenses 
 for fuel, servants, kitchen furniture, &c. are stated at 
 three times as much as the cost at Munich, and the other 
 
RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 235 
 
 items at the prices stated in the printed report of the 
 Board of Agriculture of November 10, 1795. 
 
 But since 1795 we have made great progress in the 
 right direction. Bread then cost one shilling per loaf, 
 barley and peas about 50 per cent. more than at present, 
 salt is set down by Rumford at 14d. per lb. (now about 
 one farthing). Fuel was also dearer. But wages have 
 risen greatly. As stated in money, they are about doubled 
 (in purchasing power—ze. real wages—they are three- 
 fold). Making all these allowances, charging wages at 
 six times those paid by him, I find that the present cost 
 of Rumford’s No. 1 soup would be a little over one half- 
 penny per portion, and No. 2 just about one halfpenny. 
 I here assume that Rumford’s directions for the con- 
 struction of kitchen fireplaces and economy of fuel are 
 carried out. We are in these matters still a century 
 behind his arrangements of 1790, and nothing short of 
 a coal-famine will punish and cure our criminal extra- 
 vagance. 
 
 The cookery of the above-named ingredients is con- 
 ducted as follows: ‘The water and pearl barley first 
 put together in the boiler and made to boil, the peas are 
 then added, and the boiling is continued over a gentle 
 fire about two hours; the potatoes are then added 
 (peeled), and the boiling is continued for about one hour 
 more, during which time the contents of the boiler are 
 frequently stirred about with a large wooden spoon or 
 ladle, in order to destroy the texture of the potatoes, 
 and to reduce the soup to one uniform mass. When 
 this is done, the vinegar and salt are added ; and, last of 
 all, at the moment that it is to be served up, the cuttings 
 of bread.’ No. 1 is to be cooked for three hours without 
 the potatoes. 
 
 A\s already stated, I have found, in carrying out these 
 
236 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. = Ae 
 
 instructions, that I obtain a purée or porridge rather than 
 a soup. I found the No. 1 to be excellent, No. 2 infe- 
 rior. It was better when very small potatoes were used ; 
 they became more jellied, and the purée altogether had 
 less of the granular texture of mashed potatoes. I found 
 it necessary to conduct the whole of the cooking myself ; 
 the inveterate kitchen superstition concerning simmering 
 and boiling, the belief that anything rapidly boiling is 
 hotter than when it simmers, and is therefore cooking 
 more quickly, compels the non-scientific cook to shorten 
 the tedious three-hour process by boiling. This boiling 
 drives the water from below, bakes the lower stratum of 
 the porridge, and spoils the whole. The ordinary cook, 
 were she ‘at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, 
 would not keep anything barely boiling for three hours 
 with no visible result. According to her positive and 
 superlative experience, the mess is cooked sufficiently in 
 one-third of the time, as soon as the peas are softened. 
 She don’t, and she won’t, and she can’t, and she shan’t 
 understand anything about hydration. ‘When it’s done, 
 it’s done, and there’s an end to it, and what more do you 
 want?’ Hence the failures of the attempts to introduce 
 Rumford’s porridge in our English workhouses, prisons, 
 and soup kitchens. I find, when I make it myself, that 
 it is incomparably superior and far cheaper than the 
 ‘skilly ’ at present provided, though the sample of skilly 
 that I tasted was superior to the ordinary slop. 
 
 The weight of each portion, as served to the beggars, 
 . &¢., was 19'9 oz, (I Bavarian pound); the solid matter 
 contained was 6 oz. of No. 2, or 4? oz. of No. 1, and 
 Rumford states that this ‘is quite sufficient to makea 
 good meal for a strong, healthy person,’ as ‘abundantly 
 proved by long experience.’ He insists, again and again, 
 upon the necessity of the three-hours’ cooking, and [ am 
 
" RUMFORD'S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 237 
 
 equally convinced of its necessity, though, as above ex- 
 plained, not on the same theoretical grounds. No repe- 
 tition of his experience is fair unless this be attended to. 
 I have no hesitation in affirming that the 4? oz. of No.1, 
 when thus boiled for 3 hours, will supply more nutri- 
 ment than 6 oz. boiled only 14 hour. 
 
 The bread should zot be cooked, but added fe 
 before serving the soup. In reference to this he has 
 published a very curious essay, entitled ‘ Of the Pleasure 
 of Eating, and of the Means that may be Employed for 
 Increasing it.’ 
 
 Rumford used wood as fuel, and his kitchen-ranges 
 were constructed of brickwork with a separate fire for 
 each pot, the pot being set in in the brickwork imme- 
 diately above the fireplace in such manner that the flame 
 and heated products of combustion surrounded the pot 
 on their way to the exit flue. The quantity of fuel was 
 adjusted to each operation, and with wood embers a long 
 sustained moderate heat was easily obtained. 
 
 With coal-fires such separate firing would be trouble- 
 some, as coal cannot be so easily kindled on requirement 
 as wood. With our roaring, wasteful kitchen furnaces 
 and still more wasteful cooks, the long-sustained mode- 
 rate heat is not practicable without some further device. 
 I found that, by using a ‘ milk scalder,’ which is a water- 
 bath similar to a glue-pot, but on a large scale, I could 
 obtain Rumford’s results over a common kitchen-range 
 with very little trouble, and no risk of baking the bottom 
 part of the porridge. 
 
 I further found that even a longer period of stewing 
 than he prescribes is desirable. 
 
 I made a hearty meal on No. I soup, and found it 
 as satisfactory as any dinner of meat, potatoes, &c., of 
 any number of courses; and, as a chemist, I assert 
 
238 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 without any hesitation, that such a meal is demonstrably 
 of equal or superior nutritive value to an ordinary Eng- 
 lishman’s slice of beef diluted with potatoes. The No. 2 
 soup is not so satisfactory. Rumford was wrong in his 
 estimate of the value of potatoes. 
 
 In the formula for Rumford’s soup it is stated that the 
 bread should not be cooked, but added just before serving 
 the soup. Like everything else in his practical pro- 
 erammes, this was prescribed with a philosophical reason. 
 His reasons may have been fanciful sometimes, but he 
 never acted stupidly, as the vulgar majority of man- 
 kind usually do when they blindly follow an established 
 custom without knowing any reason for so doing, or 
 even attempting to discover a reason. | 
 
 In his essay on ‘ The Pleasure of Eating, and of the 
 Means that may be Employed for Increasing it, he 
 says: ‘The pleasure enjoyed in eating depends, first, 
 on the agreeableness of the taste of the food ; and, 
 secondly, upon its power to affect the palate. Now, 
 there are many substances extremely cheap, by which 
 very agreeable tastes may be given to food, particularly 
 when the basis or nutritive substance of the food is 
 tasteless ; and the effect of any kind of palatable solid 
 food (of meat, for instance) upon the organs of taste 
 may be increased, almost indefinitely, by reducing the 
 size of the particles of such food, and causing it to act 
 upon the palate by a larger surface. And if means be 
 used to prevent its being swallowed too soon, which may 
 easily be done by mixing it with some hard and tasteless 
 substance, such as crumbs of bread rendered hard by 
 toasting, or anything else of that kind, by which a long 
 mastication is rendered necessary, the enjoyment of 
 eating may be greatly increased and prolonged.’ He 
 adds that ‘the idea of occupying a person a great while, 
 
RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 239 
 
 and affording him much pleasure at the same time in 
 eating a small quantity of food, may perhaps appear 
 ridiculous to some; but those who consider the matter 
 attentively will perceive that it is very important. It is 
 perhaps as much so as anything that can employ the 
 attention of the philosopher.’ 
 
 Further on he adds: ‘If a glutton can be made to 
 gormandise two hours upon two ounces of meat, it is 
 certainly much better for him than to give himself an 
 indigestion by eating two pounds in the same time.’ 
 
 _ This is amusing as well as instructive ; so also are his 
 ‘researches into what I may venture to describe as the 
 specific sapidity of different kinds of food, which he de- 
 termined by diluting or intermixing them with insipid 
 materials, and thereby ascertaining the amount of sur- 
 face over which they might be spread before their par- 
 ticular flavour disappeared. He concluded that a red 
 herring has the highest specific sapidity—ze. the greatest 
 amount of flavour in a given weight of any kind of food 
 he had tested, and that, comparing it on the basis of 
 cost for cost, its superiority is still greater. 
 
 He tells us that ‘the pleasure of eating depends very 
 much indeed upon the manner in which the food is 
 applied to the organs of taste,’ and that he considers 
 ‘it necessary to mention, and even to illustrate in the 
 clearest manner, every circumstance which appears to 
 have influence in producing these important effects.’ As 
 an example of this, I may quote*his instructions for 
 eating hasty pudding: ‘The pudding is then eaten 
 with a spoon, each spoonful of it being dipped into the 
 sauce before it is carried to the mouth, care being had in 
 taking it up to begin on the outside, or near the brim of 
 the plate, and to approach the centre by regular advances, 
 in order not to demolish too soon the excavation which 
 
240 THE CHEMISTRY OF €COOKRie. 
 
 forms the reservoir for the sauce.’ His solid Indian- 
 corn pudding is, in like manner, ‘to be eaten with a 
 knife and fork, beginning at the circumference of the 
 slice,and approaching regularly towards the centre, each 
 piece of pudding being taken up with the fork and 
 dipped into the butter, or dipped into it zz part only, 
 before it is carried to the mouth.’ 
 
 As a supplement to the cheap soup recipes I will 
 quote one which Rumford gives as the cheapest food 
 which in his opinion can be provided in England: Take 
 of water 8 gallons, mix it with 5 lbs. of barley-meal, 
 boil it to the consistency of a thick jelly. Season with 
 salt, vinegar, pepper, sweet herbs, and four red herrings 
 pounded in a mortar. Instead of bread, add 5 lbs. of 
 Indian corn made into a samp, and stir it together with 
 a ladle. Serve immediately in portions of 20 oz. 
 
 Samp is ‘said to have been invented by the savages 
 of North America, who have no corn-mills: “itets 
 Indian corn deprived of its external coat by soaking 
 it ten or twelve hours in a lixivium of water and wood 
 ashes.' This coat or husk, being separated from the 
 kernel, rises to the surface of the water, while the grain 
 remains at the bottom. The separated kernel is stewed 
 for about two days in a kettle of water placed near the 
 fire. ‘When sufficiently cooked, the kernels will be 
 found to be swelled to a great size and burst open, and 
 
 1 Such lixivium is essentially a dilute solution of carbonate of potash 
 in very crude form, not conveniently obtained by burners of pit coal. I 
 tried the experiment of soaking some ordinary Indian corn in a solution 
 of carbonate of potash, exceeding the ten or twelve hours specified by 
 Count Rumford. The external coat was not removed even after two days’ 
 soaking, but the corns were much swollen and softened. I suspect that 
 this difference is due to the condition of the corn which is imported here, 
 It is fully ripened, dried, and hardened, while that used by the Indians 
 was probably fresh gathered, barely ripe, and much softer. 
 
moeMrORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 241 
 
 this food, which is uncommonly sweet and nourishing, 
 
 may be used in a great variety of ways ; but the best 
 
 way of using it is to mix it with milk, and with soups 
 
 and broths as a substitute for bread.’ He prefers it to 
 
 bread because ‘it requires more mastication, and conse- 
 
 quently tends more to prolong the pleasure of eating.’ 
 The cost of this soup he estimates as follows: 
 
 5 lbs. barley meal, at 13d. per. lb., or 5s. 6a. per bushel O 7 
 5 lbs. Indian corn, at 1}d. per Ib. : ‘ : o 61 
 4 red herrings OF3 
 Vinegar . : : ° : : . : Onit 
 Salt . : : : : : : ’ . Oo 1 
 Pepper and sweet herbs, , ° ° : OL 
 I 8? 
 
 This makes 64 portions, which thus cost rather less than 
 one-third of a penny each. As prices were higher then 
 than now, it comes down to little more than one farthing, 
 or one-third of a penny, as stated, when cost of prepa- 
 ration in making ona large scale is included. I have 
 not been successful in making this soup ; failed in the 
 ‘samp, as explained in the foot-note. By substituting 
 ‘raspings’ (the coarse powder rasped off the surface of 
 rolls or over-baked loaves) or bread-crumbs browned in 
 an oven, I obtain a fair result for those who have. no 
 objection to a diffused flavour of red herring. 
 
 By using grated cheese instead of the herring, as 
 well as substituting bread-crumbs or raspings for the 
 Indian corn, I have completely succeeded ; but for 
 economy and quality combined, the No. 1 soup, as 
 supplied at Munich, is preferable. 
 
 The feeding of the Bavarian soldiers is stated in 
 detail in vol. i. of Rumford’s ‘ Essays.’ I take one 
 characteristic example. It is from an official report on 
 experiments made ‘in obedience to the orders of Lieut.- 
 
 R 
 
242 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKER, 
 
 General Count Rumford, by Sergeant Wickelhof’s mess, 
 in the first company of the first (or Elector’s Own) regi- 
 ment of Grenadiers at Munich.’ 
 
 JUNE 10, 1795.—BILL OF FARE, 
 Boiled beef, with soup and bread dumplings. 
 
 DETAILS OF THE EXPENSE. 
 First, for the boiled beef and the soup. 
 
 Ib. loths. Creutzers. 
 
 2) aeOpE Deer : : : ; ‘ . eel 
 
 Oo 1 sweetherbs . : ‘ : : euspd 
 
 O opepper . : : ‘ A : é-, OF 
 
 Om Ot salt . : : : : : “it -O* 
 
 I 14+ ammunition bread cut fine ; : aes 
 
 QO 20 0swatelan: . . : . ° 7 AO 
 Potalss. 24307 Cost . 20% 
 
 The Bavarian pound is a little less than 14 |b. avoir- 
 dupois, and is divided into 32 loths. 
 
 All these were put into an earthenware pot and boiléd 
 for two hours and a quarter; then divided into twelve 
 portions of 26,5 loths each, costing 1? creutzer. 
 
 Second, for the bread dumpling. 
 
 Ib. loths. Creutzers, 
 
 1o 13f fine semel bread . ; ’ : Sate 
 
 1 oof fine flour 2 : : ; : . 44 
 
 OO salle: ; ae : ; : oO 
 
 3 Oo water . ° ‘ ° ° . eke 
 Total . 5 19 Cost >... 55 
 
 This mass was made into dumplings, which were 
 boiled half an hour in clear water. Upon taking them 
 out of the water they were found to weigh § lbs, 24 loths, 
 giving 154 loths to each portion, costing 14 creutzer. 
 
 The meat, soup, and dumplings were served all at 
 once, in the same dish, and were all eaten together at 
 dinner, Each member of the mess was also supplied 
 
RUMFORD’S COOKERY AND CHEAP DINNERS. 243 
 
 with 10 loths of rye bread, which cost ;% of a creutzer. 
 Also with 10 loths of the same for preaieet another 
 piece of same weight in the afternoon, and another for 
 his supper. 
 
 A detailed analysis of this is given, the sum total 
 of which shows that each man received in Toe 
 weight daily : 
 
 Me OZ, 
 2 23% of solids 
 
 84 ¢ b) 
 I 25% of ‘ prepared water 
 
 3 5343, total solids and fluids. 
 
 which cost 51% creutzers, or twopence sterling, very 
 nearly. Other bills of fare of other messes, officially 
 reported, give about the same. This is exclusive of the 
 cost of fuel, &c., for cooking. 
 
 All who are concerned in soup-kitchens or other 
 economic dietaries should carefully study the details 
 supplied in these ‘ Essays’ of Count Rumford ; they are 
 thoroughly practical, and, although nearly a century old, 
 are highly instructive at the present day. With their 
 aid large basins of good, nutritious soup might be sup- 
 plied at one penny per basin, leaving a profit for esta- 
 blishment expenses; and if such were obtainable at 
 Billingsgate, Smithfield, ‘Leadenhall, Covent Garden, 
 and other markets in London and the provinces, where 
 poor men are working at early hours on cold mornings, 
 the dram-drinking which prevails so fatally in such 
 places would be more effectually superseded than by 
 any temperance missions, which are limited to mere 
 talking. Such soup is incomparably better than tea or 
 coffee. It should be included in the bill of fare of all 
 the coffee-palaces and such-like establishments. 
 
 Since the above appeared in ‘ Knowledge,’ I have 
 
 had much correspondence with ladies and gentlemen 
 R2 
 
244 LTHE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY 
 
 who are benevolently exerting themselves in the good 
 work of providing cheap dinners for poor school-children 
 and poor people generally. I may mention particularly 
 the Rev. W. Moore Ede, Rector of Gateshead-on-Tyne, 
 a pioneer in the ‘Penny Dinner’ movement, and who 
 has published a valuable penny tract on the subject, 
 ‘Cheap Food and Cheap Cookery,’ which I recommend 
 to all his fellow-workers. (He supplies distribution 
 copies at 6d. per 100.) His “Penny Dinners@coker, 
 now commercially supplied by Messrs. Walker and 
 Emley, Newcastle, overcomes the difficulties I have 
 described in the slow cookery of Rumford’s soup. It 
 is a double vessel on the glue-pot principle, heated by 
 gas, 
 
245 
 
 CiriAE LER OXY. 
 COUNT RUMFORD’S SUBSTITUTE FOR TEA AND COFFEE. 
 
 TAKE eight parts by weight of meal (Rumford says 
 ‘wheat or rye meal,’ and I add, or oatmeal), and one 
 part of butter. Melt the butter in a clean zvox frying- 
 pan, and, when thus melted, sprinkle the meal into it ; 
 stir the whole briskly with a broad wooden spoon or 
 spatula till the butter has disappeared and the meal is 
 of a uniform brown colour, like roasted coffee, great 
 care being taken to prevent burning on the bottom 
 of the pan. About half an ounce of this roasted meal 
 boiled in a pint of water, and seasoned with salt, pepper, 
 and vinegar, forms ‘burnt soup,’ much used by the wood- 
 cutters of Bavaria, who work in the mountains far away 
 from any habitations, Their provisions for a week (the 
 time they commonly remain in the mountains) consist of 
 a large loaf of rye bread (which, as it does not so soon 
 grow dry and stale as wheaten bread, is always preferred 
 to it); a linen bag, containing a small quantity of roasted 
 meal, prepared as above ; another small bag of salt, and 
 a small wooden box containing some pounded black 
 pepper ; and sometimes, but not often, a small bottle of 
 vinegar ; but d/ack pepper is an ingredient never omitted. 
 The rye bread, which eaten alone or with cold water 
 would be very hard fare, is rendered palatable and 
 satisfactory, Rumford thinks also more wholesome and 
 nutritious, by the help of a bowl of hot soup, so easily 
 
246 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 prepared from the roasted meal. He tells us that this is 
 not only used by the wood-cutters, but that it is also the 
 common breakfast of the Bavarian peasant, and adds 
 that ‘it is infinitely preferable, in all respects, to that 
 most pernicious wash, fea, with which the lower classes 
 of the inhabitants of this island drench their stomachs 
 and ruin their constitutions.’ He adds that ‘ when tea is 
 taken with a sufficient quantity of sugar and good cream, 
 and with a large quantity of bread-and-butter, or with 
 toast and boiled eggs, and, above all, when zt zs not 
 drunk too hot, it is certainly less unwholesome ; but a 
 simple infusion of this drug, drunk boiling hot, as the 
 poor usually take it, is certainly a poison, which, though 
 it is sometimes slow in its operation, never fails to pro- 
 duce fatal effects, even in the strongest constitutions, 
 where the free use of it is continued for a considerable 
 length of time.’ 
 
 This may appear to many a very strong condemna- 
 tion of their favourite beverage; nevertheless, I am 
 satisfied that it is sound ; and my opinion is not hastily 
 adopted, nor borrowed from Rumford, but a conclusion 
 based upon many observations, extending over a long 
 period of years, and confirmed by experiments made 
 upon myself. 
 
 I therefore strongly recommend this substitute, espe- 
 cially as so many of us have to submit to the beneficent 
 domestic despotism of the gentler and more persevering 
 sex, one of the common forms of this despotism being 
 that of not permitting its male victim to drink cold 
 water at breakfast. This burnt soup has the further 
 advantage of rendering imperative the boiling of the 
 water, a most important precaution against the perils of 
 sewage contamination, not removable by mere filtration. 
 
 The experience of every confirmed tea-drinker, when — 
 
PEA AND. COPFEL. 247 
 
 soundly interpreted, supplies condemnation of his beve- 
 rage; the plea commonly urged on its behalf being, 
 when understood, an eloquent expression of such con- 
 demnation. ‘It is so refreshing ;’ ‘I am fit for nothing 
 when tea-time comes round until I have had my tea, and 
 then I am fit for anything. The ‘fit for nothing’ state 
 comes on at 5 P.M., when the drug is taken at the 
 orthodox time, or even in the early morning, in the case 
 of those who are accustomed to have a cup of tea brought 
 to their bedside before rising. Some will even plead for 
 tea by telling that by its aid one can sit up all night 
 long at brain-work without feeling sleepy, provided 
 ample supplies of the infusion are taken from time to 
 time. | 
 
 It is unquestionably true that such may be done; 
 that the tea-drinker is languid and weary at tea-time, 
 whatever be the hour, and that the refreshment produced 
 by ‘the cup that cheers’ and is sazd not to inebriate, is 
 almost instantaneous. 
 
 What is the true significance of these facts ? 
 
 The refreshment is certainly not due to nutrition, not 
 to the rebuilding of any worn-out or exhausted organic 
 tissue. The total quantity of material conveyed from 
 the tea-leaves into the water is ridiculously too small for 
 the performance of any such nutritive function; and 
 besides this, the action is far too rapid, there is not suffi- 
 cient time for the conversion of even that minute quantity 
 into organised working tissue. The action cannot be 
 that of a food, but is purely and simply that of a stimu- 
 lating or irritant drug, acting directly and abnormally 
 on the nervous system. — 
 
 The five-o’clock lassitude and craving is neither more 
 nor less than the reaction induced by the habitual 
 abnormal stimulation; or otherwise, and quite fairly, » 
 
248 THE. CHEMISTRY OF COOKER 
 
 stated, it is the outward symptom of a diseased con- 
 dition of brain produced by the action of a drug; it 
 may be but a mild form of disease, but it is truly a 
 disease nevertheless. 
 
 The active principle which produces this result is the 
 crystalline alkaloid, the z/ezue,!1 a compound belonging 
 to the same class as strychnine and a number of similar 
 vegetable poisons. These, when diluted, act medicinally 
 —that is, produce disturbance of normal functions as the 
 tea does, and, like theine, most of them act specially on 
 the nervous system ; when concentrated they are dread- 
 ful poisons, very small doses causing death. The volatile 
 oil, of which tea contains about 1 per cent., probably 
 contributes to this effect. Johnston attributes the head- 
 aches and giddiness to which tea-tasters are subject to 
 this oil, and also ‘the attacks of paralysis to which, after 
 a few years, those who are employed in packing and un- 
 packing chests of tea are found to be liable.’ As both 
 the alkaloid and the oil are volatile, I suspect that they | 
 jointly contribute to these disturbances, the narcotic 
 business being done by the volatile oil, the paralysis 
 supplied by the alkaloid. 
 
 The non-tea-drinker does not suffer any of the five- 
 o'clock symptoms, and, if otherwise in sound health, 
 remains in steady working condition until his day’s work 
 isended and the time for rest and sleep arrives, But the 
 habitual victim of any kind of drug or disturber of normal 
 functions acquires a diseased condition, displayed by the 
 
 1 Ordinary tea contains about 2 per cent. of this. It may easily be 
 obtained by making a strong infusion and s/owly evaporating it to dryness, 
 then placing this dried extract on a watch-glass or evaporating-dish, cover- 
 ing it with an inverted wineglass, tumbler, or conical cap of paper. A 
 white fume rises and condenses on the cool cover in the form of minute 
 
 colourless crystals. The tea itself may be used in the same manner as the 
 dried extract, but the quantity of crystals will be less. 
 
TEA AND COFFEE. 249 
 
 loss of vitality or other deviation from normal function, 
 which is temporarily relieved by the usual dose of the 
 drug, but only in such wise as to generate a renewed 
 craving. I include in this general statement all the 
 vice-drugs (to coin a general name), such as alcohol, 
 opium, tobacco (whether smoked, chewed, or snuffed), 
 arsenic, haschisch, betel-nut, coca-leaf, thorn-apple, Sibe- 
 rian fungus, maté, &c., all of which are excessively ‘re- 
 freshing’ to their victims, and of which the use may be, 
 and has been, defended by the same arguments as those 
 used by the advocates of habitual tea-drinking. 
 
 Speaking generally, the reaction or residual effect of 
 these on the system is nearly the opposite of that of 
 their immediate effect, and thus larger and larger doses 
 are demanded to bring the system to its normal con- 
 dition. The non-tea-drinker or moderate drinker is kept 
 awake by a cup of tea or coffee taken late at night, 
 while the hard drinker of these beverages scarcely feels 
 any effect, especially if accustomed to take it at that 
 time. 
 
 The practice of taking tea or coffee by students, in 
 order to work at night, is downright madness, especially 
 when preparing for an examination. More than half of 
 the cases of breakdown, loss of memory, fainting, &c., 
 which occur during severe examinations, and far more 
 frequently than is commonly known, are due to this. 
 
 I continually hear of promising students who have 
 thus failed ; and, on inquiry, have. learned—in almost 
 every instance—that the victim has previously drugged 
 himself with tea or coffee. Sleep is the rest of the brain ; 
 to rob the hard-worked brain of its necessary rest is 
 cerebral suicide. } 
 
 My old friend, the late Thomas Wright (the arche- 
 ologist), was a victim of this terrible folly. He under- 
 
250 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 took the translation of the ‘ Life of Julius Cesar, by 
 Napoleon III., and to do it in a cruelly short time. He 
 fulfilled his contract by sitting up several nights succes- 
 sively by the aid of strong tea or coffee (I forget which). 
 I saw him shortly afterwards. In a few weeks he had 
 aged alarmingly, had become quite bald ; his brain gave 
 way and never recovered. There was but little dif- 
 ference between his age and mine, and but for this 
 dreadful cerebral strain, rendered possible only by the 
 stimulant (for otherwise he would have fallen to sleep 
 over his work, and thereby saved his life), he might still 
 be amusing and instructing thousands of readers by fresh 
 volumes of popularised archzeological research. 
 
 I need scarcely add that all I have said above applies 
 to coffee as to tea, though not so seriously zz thzs country. 
 The active alkaloid is the same in both, but tea contains 
 weight for weight above twice as much as coffee.- In 
 this country we commonly use about 50 per cent. more 
 coffee than tea to each given measure of water. On the 
 Continent they use about double our quantity (this is 
 the true secret of ‘Coffee as in ‘Prance jj sandecuue 
 produce as potent an infusion as our tea. 
 
 I need scarcely add that the above remarks are exclu- 
 sively applied to the adztual use of these stimulants. 
 As medicines, used occasionally and judiciously, they are 
 invaluable, provided always that they are not used as 
 ordinary beverages. In Italy, Greece, and some parts of 
 the East, it is customary, when anybody feels ill with 
 indefinite symptoms, to send to the druggist for a dose 
 of tea. From what I have seen ofits action on non-tea- 
 drinkers, it appears to be specially potent in arresting the 
 premonitory symptoms of fever, the fever headache, &c. 
 
 Since the publication of the above in ‘ Knowledge,’ I 
 have been reminded of the high authorities who have 
 
TEA AND COFFEE. om 
 
 defended the use of the alkaloids, and more particularly 
 of Liebig’s theory, or the theory commonly attributed to 
 Liebig, but which is Lehmann’s, published in Liebig’s 
 ‘ Annalen,’ vol. 1xxxvii.. and adopted and advocated by 
 Liebig with his usual ability. 
 
 Lehmann watched /or some weeks the effects of coffee 
 upon two persons in good health. He found that it 
 retarded the waste of the tissues of the body, that the 
 proportion of phosphoric acid and of urea excreted by 
 the kidneys was diminished by the action of the coffee, 
 the diet being in al! other respects the same. Pure 
 caffeine (which is the same as theine) produced a similar 
 effect ; the aromatic oil of the coffee, given separately, 
 was found to exert a stimulating effect on the nervous 
 system. 
 
 Johnston (‘Chemistry of Common Life’) closely fol- 
 lowing Liebig, and referring to the researches of Leh- 
 mann, says: ‘Zhe waste of the body ts lessened by the 
 tntroduction of theine into the stomach—that ts, by the use 
 
 of tea. And if the waste be lessened, the necessity for 
 
 food to repair it will be lessened in an equal proportion. 
 In other words, by the consumption of a certain quan- 
 tity of tea, the health and strength of the body will be 
 maintained in an equal degree upon a smaller quantity 
 of ordinary food. Tea, therefore, saves food—stands toa 
 certain extent in the place of food—while, at the same 
 time, it soothes the body and enlivens the mind,’ 
 
 He proceeds to say that ‘in the old and infirm it 
 serves also another purpose. In the life of most persons 
 a period arrives when the stomach no longer digests 
 enough of the ordinary elements of food to make up 
 for the natural daily waste of the bodily substance. The 
 size and weight of the body, therefore, begin to diminish 
 more or less perceptibly. At this period tea comes in as 
 
25 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 a medicine to arrest the waste, to keep the body from 
 falling away so fast, and thus to enable the less ener- 
 getic powers of digestion still to supply as much as is 
 needed to repair the wear and tear of the solid tissues.’ 
 No wonder, therefore, says he, ‘ that the aged female, who 
 has barely enough income to buy what are called the common 
 necessaries of life, should yet spend a portion of her small 
 gains in purchasing her ounce of tea. Shecan live quite as 
 well on less common food when she takes her tea along 
 with zt; while she feels lighter at the same time, more 
 cheerful, and fitter for her work, because of the indul- 
 gence.’ (The italics are my own for comparison with 
 those that follow.) | 
 
 All this is based upon the researches of Lehmann 
 and others, who measured the work of the vital furnace 
 by the quantity of ashes produced—the urea and phos- 
 phoric acid excreted. But there is also another method 
 of measuring the same, that of collecting the expired 
 breath and determining the quantity of carbonic acid 
 given off by combustion. This method is imperfect, 
 inasmuch as it only measures a portion of the carbonic 
 acid which is given off. The skin is also a respiratory 
 organ, co-operating with the lungs in evolving carbonic 
 acid. 
 
 Dr. Edward Smith adopted the method of measuring 
 the respired carbonic acid only. His results were first: 
 published in ‘ The Philosophical Transactions’ of 1859, 
 and again in Chapter XXXV. of his volume on ‘ Food,’ 
 International Scientific Series. 
 
 After stating, in the latter, the details of the experi- 
 ments, which include depth of respiration as well as 
 amount of carbonic acid respired, he says: ‘ Hence it 
 was proved beyond all doubt that tea is a most powerful 
 respiratory excitant. As it causes an evolution of carbon 
 
TEA AND COFFEE. 253 
 
 ereatly beyond that which it supplies, it follows that it 
 must powerfully promote those vital changes in food 
 which ultimately produce the carbonic acid to be evolved. 
 Instead, therefore, of supplying nutritive matter, it causes 
 the assimilation and transformation of other foods.’ 
 
 Now, note the following practical conclusions, which 
 I quote in Dr. Smith’s own words, but take the liberty of 
 rendering in italics those passages that I wish the reader 
 to specially compare with the preceding quotations from 
 Johnston: ‘In reference to nutrition, we may say that 
 tea increases waste, since it promotes the transformation 
 of food without supplying nutriment, and increases the 
 loss of heat without supplying fuel, and z¢ zs therefore 
 especially adapted to the wants of those who usually eat too 
 much, and after a full meal, when the process of assimi- 
 lation should be quickened, but zs less adapted to the poor 
 and iUl-fed, and during fasting. He tells us very posi- 
 tively that ‘to take tea before a meal is as absurd as 
 not to take it after a meal, unless the system be at all 
 times replete with nutritive material.’ And, again : ‘ Our 
 experiments have sufficed to show how tea may be zzju- 
 rious uf taken with deficient food, and thereby exaggerate 
 the evils of the poor ;’ and, again: ‘The conclusions at 
 which we arrived after our researches in 1858 were, that 
 tea should not be taken without food, unless after a 
 full meal; or with insufficient food; or by the young 
 or very feeble ; and that z¢s essential action ts to waste 
 the system or consume food, by promoting vital action 
 which it does not support, and they have not been dis- 
 proved by any subsequent scientific researches.’ 
 
 This final assertion may be true, and to those who 
 ‘go in for the last thing out,’ the latest novelty or fashion 
 in science, literature, or millinery, the absence of any 
 refutation of later date is quite enough. 
 
254 LHE CHEMISTRY OF COOR rae. 
 
 But how about the previous ‘ scientific researches ’ of 
 Lehmann, who, on all such subjects, is about the highest 
 authority that can be quoted. His three volumes on 
 ‘Physiological Chemistry,’ translated and republished by 
 the Cavendish Society, stand pre-eminent as the best- 
 written, most condensed, and complete work on the sub- 
 ject, and his original researches constitute a lifetime’s 
 work, not of mere random change-ringing among the 
 elements of obscure and insignificant organic compounds, 
 but of judiciously selected chemical work, having definite 
 philosophical aims and objects. 
 
 It is evident from the passages I have emphatically 
 quoted that Dr. Smith flatly contradicts Lehmann, and 
 arrives at directly contradictory physiological results and 
 practical inferences. 
 
 Are we, therefore, to conclude that he has blundered 
 in his analysis, or that Lehmann has done so? 
 
 On carefully comparing the two sets of investiga- 
 
 tions, I conclude that there is no necessary contradiction 
 an the facts: that both may be, and in all probability are, 
 quite correct as regards their chemical results ; but that 
 Dr. Smith has only attacked half the problem, while 
 Lehmann has grasped the whole. 
 _ All the popular stimulants, refreshing drugs, and 
 ‘pick-me-ups’ have two distinct and opposite actions— 
 an immediate exaltation which lasts for a certain period, 
 varying with the drug and the constitution of its victim, 
 and a subsequent depression proportionate to the primary 
 exaltation, but, as I believe, always exceeding it either 
 in duration or intensity, or both, thus giving as a nett 
 or mean result a loss of vitality. 
 
 Dr. Smith’s experiments only measured the car- 
 bonic acid exhaled from the lungs during the first 
 stage, the period of exaltation. His experiments 
 
TEA AND COFFEE. 258 
 
 were extended to 50 minutes, 71 minutes, 65 minutes, 
 and in one case to I hour and 50 minutes. It is 
 worthy of note that, in Experiment 1, 100 grains of 
 black tea were given to two persons, and the duration 
 of the experiment was 50 and 71 minutes; the average 
 increase was 71 and 68 cubic inches per minute, while 
 in No. 6, with the same dose and the carbonic acid 
 collected during 1 hour and 50 minutes, the average in- 
 crease per minute was only 47°5 cubic inches. These 
 indicate a decline of the exaltation, and the curves on 
 his diagrams show the same. His coffee results were 
 similar. | 
 
 We all know that the ‘refreshing’ action of tea often 
 extends over a considerable period. My own experi- 
 ments on myself show that it continues about three or 
 four hours, and that of beer or wine less than one hour 
 (moderate doses in each case). 
 
 I have tested this by walking measured distances 
 after taking the stimulant and comparing with my 
 walking powers when taking no other beverage than 
 cold water. The duration of the tea stimulation has 
 been also measured (painfully so) by the duration of 
 sleeplessness when female seduction has led me to drink 
 tea late in the evening. The duration of coffee is about 
 one-third less than tea. 
 
 Lehmann’s experiments extending over weeks (days 
 instead of minutes), measured the whole effect of the 
 alkaloid and oil of the coffee during both the periods 
 of exaltation and depression, and, therefore, supplied a 
 mean or total result which accords with ordinary every- 
 day experience. It is well known that the pot of tea 
 of the poor needlewoman subdues the natural craving 
 for food ; the habitual smoker claims the same merit for 
 his pipe, and the chewer for his quid. Wonderful stories 
 
256 THE. CHEMISTRY OF COCR 
 
 are told of the long abstinence of the drinkers of maté, 
 chewers of betel-nut, Siberian fungus, coca-leaf, and 
 pepper-wort, and the smokers and eaters of haschisch, &c. 
 Not only is the sense of hunger allayed, but less food is 
 demanded for sustaining life. 
 
 It is a curious fact that similar effects should be 
 produced, and similar advantages claimed, for the use 
 of a drug which is totally different in its other chemical 
 properties and relations. ‘ White arsenic, or arsenious 
 acid, is the oxide of a metal, and far as the poles 
 asunder from the alkaloids, alcohols, and aromatic resins 
 in chemical classification. But it does check the waste of 
 the tissues, and is eaten by the Styrians and others with 
 physiological effects curiously resembling those of its 
 chemical antipodeans above named. Foremost among 
 these physiological effects is that of ‘making the food 
 appear to go farther.’ 
 
 It is strange that Liebig or any physiologist who 
 accepts his views of vital chemistry, should claim this 
 diminution of the normal waste and renewal of tissue 
 as a merit, seeing that, according to Liebig, life itself is 
 the product of such change, and death the result of its 
 cessation. But in the eagerness that has been displayed 
 to justify existing indulgences, this claim has been ex- 
 tensively made by men who ought to know better than 
 to admit such a plea. 
 
 I speak, as before, of the Zabztual use of such drugs, 
 not of their occasional medicinal use. The waste of the 
 body may be going on with killing rapidity, as in fever, 
 and then such medicines may save life, provided always 
 that the body has not become ‘tolerant,’ or partially 
 insensible, to them by daily usage. I once watched a 
 dangerous case of typhoid fever. Acting under the 
 instructions of skilful medical attendants, and aided by 
 
> 1 - r 
 < 
 7 
 
 TEA AND COFFEE. 257 
 
 a clinical thermometer and a seconds watch, I so ap- 
 plied small doses of brandy at short intervals as to keep 
 down both pulse and temperature within the limits of 
 fatal combustion. The patient had scarcely tasted 
 alcohol before this, and therefore it exerted its maxi- 
 mum efficacy. I was surprised at the certain response 
 of both pulse and temperature to this most valuable 
 medicine and most pernicious beverage. 
 
 The argument that has been the most industriously 
 urged in favour of all the vice-drugs, and each in its 
 turn, is that miserable apology that has been made for 
 every folly, every vice, every political abuse, every social 
 crime (such as slavery, polygamy, &c.), when the time 
 has arrived for reformation. I cannot condescend to 
 seriously argue against it, but merely state the fact that 
 the widely-diffused practice of using some kind of stimu- 
 lating drug has been claimed as a sufficient proof of the 
 necessity or advantage of such practice. I leave my 
 readers to bestow on such a. plea the treatment they 
 may think it deserves. Those who believe that a ra- 
 tional being should have rational grounds for his conduct 
 will treat this customary refuge of blind conservatism 
 as I do. 
 
 I recommend tea drinkers who desire to practically 
 investigate the subject for themselves to repeat the ex- 
 periment that I have made. After establishing the 
 habit of taking tea at a particular hour, suddenly re- 
 linquish it altogether. The result will be more or less 
 unpleasant, in some cases seriously so. My symptoms 
 were a dull headache and intellectual sluggishness during 
 the remainder of the day—and if compelled to do any 
 brain-work, such as lecturing or writing, I did it badly. 
 This, as I have already said, is the diseased condition 
 induced by the habit. These symptoms vary with the 
 
 5 
 
258 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 amount of the customary indulgence and the tempera- 
 ment of the individual. A rough, lumbering, insensible 
 navvy may drink a quart or two of tea, or a few gallons 
 of beer, or several quarterns of gin, with but small results 
 of any kind. I know an omnibus-driver who makes 
 seven double journeys daily, and his ‘reglars’ are half 
 a quartern of gin at each terminus—ze. 1? pints daily, 
 exclusive of extras. This would render most men help- 
 lessly drunk, but he is never drunk, and drives well and 
 safely. 
 
 Assuming, then, that the experimenter has taken 
 sufficient daily tea to have a sensible effect, he will suffer 
 on leaving it off. Let him persevere in the discon- 
 tinuance, in spite of brain languor and dull headache. 
 He will find that day by day the languor will diminish, 
 and in the course of time (about a fortnight or three 
 weeks in my case) he will be weaned. He will retain 
 from morning to night the full, free, and steady use of 
 all his faculties ; will get through his day’s work without 
 any fluctuation of working ability (provided, of course, 
 no other stimulant is used). Instead of his best faculties 
 being dependent on a drug for their awakening, he will 
 _be in the condition of true manhood—ze. able to do his 
 best in any direction of effort, simply in reply to moral 
 demand ; able to do whatever is right and advantageous, 
 because his reason shows that it is so. The sense of 
 duty is to such a free man the only stimulus demanded 
 for calling forth his uttermost energies. 
 
 If he again returns to his habitual tea, he will again 
 be reduced to more or less of dependence upon it. This 
 condition of dependence is a state of disease precisely 
 analogous to that which is induced by opium and other 
 drugs that operate by temporary abnormal cerebral 
 exaltation. The pleasurable sensations enjoyed by the 
 
CONDIMENTS. 259 
 
 opium-eater or smoker or morphia injector are more 
 intense than those of the tea-drinker, and the reaction 
 proportionally greater. 
 
 I must not leave this subject without a word or two 
 in reference to a widely prevailing and very mischievous 
 fallacy. Many argue and actually believe that because 
 a given drug has great efficiency in curing disease, it 
 must do good if taken under ordinary conditions of 
 health. 
 
 No high authorities are demanded for the refutation 
 of this. A little common sense properly used is quite 
 sufficient. It is evident that a medicine, properly so- 
 called, is something which is capable of producing a 
 disturbing or alterative effect on the body generally or 
 some particular organ. The skill of the physician con- 
 sists in so applying this disturbing agency as to produce 
 an alteration of the state of disease, a direct conversion 
 of the state of disease to a state of health, if possible 
 (which is rarely the case), or more usually the con- 
 version of one state of disease into another of milder 
 character. But, when we are in a state of sound health, 
 any disturbance or alteration must be a change for the 
 worse, must throw us out of health to an extent pro- 
 portionate to the potency of the drug. 
 
 I might illustrate this by a multitude of familiar 
 examples, but they would carry me too far away from 
 my proper subject. There is, however, one class of such 
 remedies which are directly connected with the chemistry 
 of cookery. I refer to the condiments that act as ‘ tonics,’ 
 excluding common salt, which is an article of food, 
 though often miscalled a condiment. Salt is food simply 
 because it supplies the blood with one of its normal and 
 
 necessary constituents, chloride of sodium, without which 
 $2 
 
260 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE, 
 
 we cannot live. A certain quantity of it exists in most 
 of our ordinary food, but not always sufficient. 
 
 Cayenne pepper may be selected as a typical example 
 of a condiment properly so-called. Mustard is a food 
 and condiment combined ; this is the case with some 
 others. Curry powders are mixtures of very potent 
 condiments with more or less of farinaceous materials, 
 and sulphur compounds, which, like the oil of mustard, 
 of onions, garlic, &c., may have a certain amount of 
 special nutritive value. 
 
 The mere condiment is a stimulating drug that does 
 its work directly upon the inner lining of the stomach, 
 by exciting it to increased and abnormal activity. A 
 dyspeptic may obtain immediate relief by using cayenne 
 pepper. Among the advertised patent medicines is a 
 pill bearing the very ominous name of its compounder, 
 the active constituent of which is cayenne. Great relief 
 and temporary comfort is commonly obtained by using 
 it as a ‘dinner pill’ If thus used only as a temporary 
 remedy for an acute and temporary, or exceptional, 
 attack of indigestion all is well, but the cayenne, whether 
 taken in pills or dusted over the food or stewed with it 
 in curries or any otherwise, is one of the most cruel of 
 slow poisons when taken Zadztually. Thousands of poor 
 wretches are crawling miserably towards their graves. 
 the victims of the multitude of maladies of both mind 
 and body that are connected with chronic, incurable 
 dyspepsia, all brought about by the habitual use of 
 cayenne and its condimental cousins. 
 
 The usual history of these victims is, that they began 
 by over-feeding, took the condiment to force the stomach 
 to do more than its healthful amount of work, using but 
 a little at first. Then the stomach became tolerant of 
 this little, and demanded more; then more, and more, 
 
CONDIMENTS. 261 
 
 and more, until at last inflammation, ulceration, torpidity, 
 and finally the death of the digestive powers, accom- 
 panied with all that long train of miseries to which I 
 have referred. Indiais their special fatherland. English- 
 men, accustomed to an active life at home, and a climate 
 demanding much fuel-food for the maintenance of animal 
 heat, go to India, crammed, maybe, with Latin, but 
 ignorant of the laws of health ; cheap servants promote 
 indolence, tropical heat diminishes respiratory oxidation, 
 and the appetite naturally fails. 
 
 Instead of understanding this failure as an admonition 
 to take smaller quantities of food, or food of less nutritive 
 and combustive value, such as carbohydrates instead of 
 hydrocarbons and albumenoids, they regard it as a 
 symptom of ill-health, and take curries, bitter ale, and 
 other tonics or appetising condiments, which, however 
 mischievous in England, are far more so there. 
 
 I know several men who have lived rationally in 
 India, and they all agree that the climate is especially 
 favourable to longevity, provided bitter beer, and all 
 
 other alcoholic drinks, all peppery condiments, and flesh 
 
 foods are avoided. The most remarkable example of 
 vigorous old age I have ever met was a retired colonel 
 eighty-two years of age, who had risen from the ranks, 
 and had been fifty-five years in India without furlough ; 
 drunk no alcohol during that period ; was a vegetarian 
 in India, though not so in his native land. I guessed 
 his age to be somewhere about sixty. He was a Scotch- 
 man, and an ardent student of the works of both George 
 
 and Dr. Andrew Combe. 
 
 A correspondent inquires whether I class cocoa 
 amongst the stimulants. So far as I am able to learn, it 
 should not be so classed, but I cannot speak absolutely. 
 Mere chemistry supplies no answer to this question. It 
 
262 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKER. 
 
 is purely a physiological subject, to be studied by ob- 
 servation of effects. Such observations may be made 
 by anybody whose system has not become ‘tolerant’ of 
 the substance in question. My own experience of cocoa 
 in all its forms is that it is not stimulating in any sensible 
 degree. I have acquired no habit of using it, and yet I 
 can enjoy a rich cup or bowl of cocoa or chocolate just 
 before bed-time without losing any sleep. When I am 
 occasionally betrayed into taking a late cup of coffee 
 or tea, I repent it for some hours after going to bed. 
 My inquiries among other people, who are not under 
 the influence of that most powerful of all arguments, 
 the logic of inclination, have confirmed my own expe- 
 rience. 
 
 I should, however, add that some authorities have 
 attributed exhilarating properties to the ¢heobromine or 
 nitrogenous alkaloid of cocoa. Its composition nearly 
 resembles that of theine, as the following (from John- 
 ston) shows: 
 
 Theine Theobromine 
 Carbon . : : A ° » 49°80 46°43 
 Hydrogen ; : : , ‘35°08 4°20 
 Nitrogen , : : : » 28°33 35°85 
 Oxygen . : : : : sy 10 205 £3252 
 
 100‘0O 100°00 
 
 It exists in the cocoa bean in about the same pro- 
 portion as the theine in tea, but in making a cup of 
 cocoa we use a much greater weight of cocoa than of 
 tea in a cup of tea. If, therefore thesprape mes 
 theobromine were similar to those of theine, we should 
 feel the stimulating effects much more decidedly. 
 
 The alkaloid of tea and coffee in its pure state has 
 been administered to animals, and found to produce 
 paralysis, but I am not aware that theobromine has 
 acted similarly. 
 
COCOA. 263 
 
 Another essential difference between cocoa and tea 
 or coffee is that cocoa is, strictly speaking, a food. We 
 do not merely make an infusion of the cacao bean, but 
 eat it bodily in the form of a soup. It is highly nu- 
 tritious, one of the most nutritious foods in common 
 use. When travelling on foot in mountainous and 
 other regions, where there was a risk of spending the 
 night a/ fresco and supperless, I have usually carried a 
 cake of chocolate in my knapsack, as the most portable 
 and unchangeable form of concentrated nutriment, and 
 have found it most valuable. On one occasion I went 
 astray on the Kjolenfjeld, in Norway, and struggled for 
 about twenty-four hours without food or shelter. I had 
 no chocolate then, and sorely repented my improvidence. 
 Many other pedestrians have tried chocolate in like 
 manner, and all I know have commended its great 
 ‘staying’ properties, simply regarded as food. I there- 
 fore conclude that Linnzus was not without strong 
 justification in giving it the name of ¢heobroma (food for 
 the gods), but to confirm this practically the pure nut, 
 the whole nut, and nothing but the nut (excepting the 
 milk and sugar added by the consumer) should be used. 
 Some miserable counterfeits are offered—farinaceous 
 paste, flavoured with cocoa and sugar. The best sample 
 I have been able to procure is the ship cocoa prepared 
 for the Navy. This is nothing but the whole nut un- 
 sweetened, ground, and crushed to an impalpable paste. 
 It requires a little boiling, and when milk alone is used, 
 with due proportion of sugar, it is a theobroma. Con- 
 densed milk diluted, and without further sweetening, 
 may be used. 
 
 The following are the results of the analyses of two 
 samples of cocoa by Payen ; 
 
264 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY, 
 
 Cacao butter : § . 48 50 
 Albumen, fibrin, and other nitrOperone matter «. 21 20 
 Theobromine . : ; : - : ee 2 
 Starch, with traces are sugar . ; , : Pia) 10 
 Cellulose . : j : ; 4 ea 4: 2 
 Colouring matter, gromene essence , 5 5 traces 
 Mineral matter . ‘. 4 : 4 : Fe eee 4 
 Water : ‘ ° ° . ° ° - 310 12 
 100 100 
 
 The very large proportion of fat shows that the 
 Italians are rignt in their mode of using their breakfast 
 cup of chocolate. They cut their roll into ‘ fingers, and 
 dip it in the ‘ aurora’ instead of spreading butter on it. 
 
 Vegetable food generally contains an excess of cel- 
 lulose and a deficiency of fat ; therefore cocoa, with its 
 excess of fat and deficiency of cellulose, is theoretically 
 indicated as a very desirable adjunct to an ordinary 
 vegetarian dietary. The few experiments I have made 
 by perpetrating the culinary heresy of adding cocoa to 
 oatmeal-porridge and other purées, to mashed potatoes, 
 turnips, carrots, boiled rice, sago, tapioca, &c., prove 
 that vegetarians have much to learn in the cookery of 
 cocoa. During two months’ sojourn in Milan my daily 
 breakfast consisted of bread, grapes, and powdered 
 chocolate. Each grape was bitten across, one-half 
 eaten pure and simple, then the cut and pulpy face of 
 the other half was dipped in the chocolate powder, and 
 eaten with as much as adhered to it. I have never 
 been better fed, 
 
265 
 
 GUAPPER XVI. 
 
 THE COOKERY OF WINE. 
 
 IN an unguarded moment I promised to include the 
 above in this work, and will do the best I can to fulfil 
 the rash promise; but the utmost result of this effort 
 can only be a contribution to a subject which is too pro- 
 foundly mysterious to be fully grasped by any intellect 
 that is not sufficiently clairvoyant to penetrate paving- 
 stones, and see through them to the interiors of the 
 closely-tiled cellars wherein the mysteries are manipu- 
 lated. 
 
 I will first define what I mean by the cookery of 
 wine. Grape juice in its unfermented state may be 
 described as ‘raw wine,’ or this name may be applied to 
 the juice after fermentation. I apply it in the latter 
 sense, and shall use it as describing grape juice which 
 has been spontaneously and recently fermented without 
 the addition of any foreign materials, or altered by 
 keeping, or heating, or any other process beyond 
 fermentation. All such processes and admixture which 
 affect any chemical changes on the raw material I shall 
 describe as cookery, and the result as cooked wine. 
 When I refer to wine made from other juice than that 
 of the grape it will be named specifically. 
 
 At the outset a fallacy, very prevalent in this 
 country, should be controverted. The high prices 
 charged for the cooked material sold to Englishmen > 
 
266 THE: CHEMISTRY “OF COCCHI ae 
 
 has led to absurdly exaggerated notions of the original 
 value of wine. I am quite safe in stating that the 
 average market value of rich wine in its raw state, in 
 countries where the grape grows luxuriantly, and where, 
 in. consequence, the average quality of the wine is the 
 best, does not exceed sixpence per gallon, or one penny 
 per bottle. I speak now of the newly-made wine. 
 Allowing another sixpence per gallon for barrelling and 
 storage, the value of the commodity in portable form 
 becomes twopence per bottle. I am not speaking of 
 thin, poor wines, produced by a second or third pressing 
 of the grapes, but of the best and richest quality, and, 
 of course, I do not include the fancy wines—those pro- 
 duced in certain vineyards of celebrated chateaux—that 
 are superstitiously venerated by those easily-deluded 
 people who suppose themselves to be connoisseurs of 
 choice wines. I refer to ninety-nine per cent. of the 
 vich wines that actually come into the market. Wines 
 made from grapes grown in unfavourable climates 
 naturally cost more in proportion to the poorness of the 
 yield. 
 
 As some of my readers may be inclined to question 
 this estimate of average cost, a few illustrative facts may 
 be named. In Sicily and Calabria I usually paid at the 
 roadside or village ‘ osterias’ an equivalent to one half- 
 penny for a glass or tumbler holding nearly half a pint 
 of common wine, thin, but genuine. This was at the 
 rate of less than one shilling per gallon, or twopence per 
 bottle, and included the cost of barrelling, storage, and 
 innkeeper’s profit on retailing. In the luxuriant wine- 
 growing regions of Spain, a traveller halting at a railway 
 refreshment station and buying one of the sausage sand- 
 wiches that there prevail, is allowed to help himself to 
 wine to drink on the spot without charge, but if he fills 
 
TEE CCOOKR ERY OL WINE, 267 
 
 his flask to carry away he is subjected to an extra charge 
 of one halfpenny. It is well known to all concerned 
 that at vintage-time of fairly good seasons, in all 
 countries where the grape grows freely, a good empty 
 cask is worth more than the new wine it contains when 
 filled ; that much wine is wasted from lack of vessels, 
 and anybody sending two good empty casks to a 
 vigneron can have one of them filled in exchange for 
 the other. Those who desire further illustrations and 
 verification should ask their friends—owtszde of the trade 
 —who have travelled in Southern wine countries, and 
 know the language and something more of the country 
 than is to be learned by being simply transferred from 
 one hotel to another under the guidance of couriers, 
 ciceroni, valets de place, &c. 
 
 Thus the five shillings paid for a bottle of rich port 
 is made up of one penny for the original wine, one 
 penny more for cost of storage, &c., about sixpence for 
 duty and carriage to this country, and twopence for 
 bottling, making tenpence altogether; the remaining 
 four shillings and twopence is paid for cookery and 
 wine-merchant’s profits. 
 
 Under cookery I include those changes which may 
 be obtained by simply exposing the wine to the action 
 of the temperature of an ordinary cellar, or the higher 
 temperature of ‘ Pasteuring,’ to be presently described. 
 
 In the youthful days of chemistry the first of these 
 methods of cookery was the only one available, and 
 wine was kept by wine-merchants with purely com- 
 mercial intent for a considerable number of years. 
 
 A little reflection will show that this simple and 
 original cookery was very expensive, sufficiently so to 
 legitimately explain the rise in market value from ten- 
 pence to five shillings or more per bottle, 
 
268 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK EET 
 
 Wine-merchants require a respectable profit on the 
 capital they invest in their business—at least ten per cent. 
 per annum on the prime cost of the wine laid down. 
 Then there is the rental of cellars and offices, the 
 establishment expenses—such as wages, sampling, send- 
 ing out, advertising, losses by bad debts, &c.—to be 
 added. The capital lying dead in the cellar demands 
 compound interest. At ten per cent. the principal 
 doubles in about seven and one-third years. Calling it 
 seven years, to allow very meagrely for establishment 
 expenses, we get the following result : 
 
 When 7 years old the tenpenny wine is worth : I 4 per bottle, 
 29 14 UP) 3? 33 O 3 4 3) 
 39 21 33 Pi) 93 O 6 8 93 
 93 28 33 39 99 Oo 13 4 33 
 99 35 935 33 993 I 6 8 be) 
 
 Here, then, we have a fair commercial explanation 
 of the high prices of old-fashioned old wines ; or of what 
 I may zow call the traditional value of wine. 
 
 Of course, this is less when a man lays down his 
 own wine in his own cellar, in obedience to the maxim, 
 ‘Lay down good port in the days of your youth, and 
 when you are old your friends will not forsake you.’ 
 ‘He may be satisfied with a much smaller rate of inte- 
 rest than the man engaged in business fairly demands, 
 Still, when wine thus aged was thrown into the market, 
 it competed with commercially cellared wine, and ob- 
 tained remarkable prices, especially as it has a special 
 value for ‘blending’ purposes, z.e. for mixing with newer 
 wines and infecting them with its own senility. 
 
 But why do I say that zow such values are tra- 
 ditional? Simply because the progress of chemistry 
 has shown us how the changes resulting from years of 
 cellarage may be effected by scientific cookery in a few 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 269 
 
 hours or days. We are indebted to Pasteur for the 
 most legitimate—I might say the only legitimate— 
 method of doing this, The. process is accordingly 
 called ‘Pasteuring.’ It consists in simply heating the 
 wine to the temperature of 60° C.=140° Fahr., the 
 temperature at which, as will be remembered, the visible 
 changes in the cookery of animal food commences. It 
 is worthy of note that this is also the exact temperature 
 at which diastase acts most powerfully in converting 
 starch into dextrin. Pasteuring is a process demanding 
 considerable skill; no portion of the wine during its 
 cookery must be raised above 140°, yet all must reach 
 it; nor must it be exposed to the air. 
 
 The apparatus designed by Rossignol is one of the 
 best suited for this purpose. It is a large metallic 
 vat or boiler with air-tight cover and a false bottom, 
 from which rises a trumpet-shaped tube through the 
 middle of the vat, and passing through an air-tight 
 fitting in the cover. The chamber formed by the false 
 bottom is filled with water by means of this tube, the 
 object being to prevent the wine at the lower part from 
 being heated directly by the fire which is below the 
 water chamber. A thermometer is also inserted air- 
 tight in the lid, with its bulb half-way down the vat. 
 To allow for expansion a tube is similarly fitted into the 
 lid. This is bent syphon-like, and its lower end dipped 
 into a flask containing wine or water, so that air or 
 vapour may escape and bubble through, but none enter. 
 Even in drawing off from the vat the wine is not 
 allowed to flow through the air, but is conveyed by a 
 pipe which bends down, and dips to the bottom of the 
 barrel. The apparatus is bulky and expensive. 
 
 If heated with exposure to air, the wine acquires a 
 flavour easily recognised as the ‘govt de cuzt, or flavour 
 
270 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCR 
 
 of cooking. When Pasteur’s method is properly con- 
 ducted the only changes effected are those which would 
 be otherwise produced by age. I have heard of many fail- 
 ures made by English wine-merchants in their attempts 
 at Pasteuring, and am not at all surprised, seeing how > 
 secretly and clumsily these attempts have been made. 
 
 The changes thus produced are somewhat obscure. 
 One effect is probably that which more decidedly occurs 
 in the maturing of whisky and other spirits distilled 
 from grain, viz. the reduction of the proportion of 
 amylic alcohol or fusel oil, which, although less abund- 
 antly produced in the fermentation of grape juice than 
 in grain or potato spirit, is formed in varying quantities. 
 Caproic alcohol and caprylic alcohol are also produced 
 by the fermentation of grape juice or the ‘marc’ of 
 erapes—ze. the mixture of the whole juice and the 
 skins. ‘These are acrid, ill-flavoured spirits, more con- 
 ducive to headache than the ethylic alcohol, which is 
 proper spirit of good wine. Every wine-drinker knows 
 that the amount of headache obtainable from a given 
 quantity of wine, or a given outlay of cash, varies with 
 the sample, and this variation appears to be due to 
 these supplementary alcohols or ethers. 
 
 Another change appears to be the formation of 
 ethers having choice flavours and bouquets ; wuzanthic 
 ether, or the ether of wine, is the most important of 
 these, and it is probably formed by the action of the 
 natural acid salts of the wine upon its alcohol. John- 
 ston says: ‘So powerful is the odour of this substance, 
 however, that few wines contain more than one forty- 
 thousandth part of their bulk of it. Yet it is always 
 present, can always be recognised by its smell, and is 
 one of the general characteristics of all grape wines.’ 
 This ether is stated to be the basis of Hungarian wine 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 271 
 
 oul, which, according to the same authority, has been 
 sold for flavouring brandy at the rate of sixty-nine 
 dollars per pound. I am surprised that up to the 
 present time it has not been cheaply produced in large 
 quantities. Chemical problems that appear’ far more 
 difficult have been practically solved. 
 
 The paternal tenderness with which wine is regarded, 
 both by its producers and consumers, is amusing. They 
 speak of it as being ‘ sick,’ describe its ‘ diseases,’ and their 
 remedies as though it were a sentient being ; and these 
 diseases, like our own, are now attributed to bacilli, 
 bacteria, or other microbia. 
 
 Pasteur, who has worked out this question of the 
 origin of diseases in wine as he is so well known 
 to have done in animals, recommends (in papers read 
 before the French Academy in May and August 1865),. 
 that these microbia be ‘killed’ by filling the bottles 
 close up to the cork, which is thrust in just with 
 sufficient firmness to allow the wine on expanding to 
 force it out a little, but not entirely, thus preventing 
 any air from entering the bottle. The bottles are then 
 placed in a chamber heated to temperatures ranging 
 from 45° to 100 C, (113° to 212° Fahr.), where they re- 
 main for an hour or two. They are then set aside, 
 allowed to cool, and the cork driven in. It is said that 
 this treatment kills the microbia, gives to the wine an 
 increased bouquet and improved colour—in fact, ages it 
 considerably. Both old and new wines may be thus 
 treated. 
 
 I simply state this on the authority of Pasteur, 
 having made no direct experiments or observations on 
 these diseases, which he describes as resulting in aceti- 
 fication, ropiness, bitterness, and decay or decomposi- 
 tion. 
 
2y2 THE CHEMISTRY OF COCKE ET, 
 
 There is, however, another kind of sickness which I 
 have studied, both experimentally and theoretically. I 
 refer to the temporary sickness which sometimes occurs 
 to rich wines when they are moved from one cellar to 
 another, and to light wines when newly exported from 
 their native climate to our own. Genuine wines are 
 the most subject to such sickness ;—the natural, unso- 
 phisticated wines, those that have not been subjected to 
 ‘fortification, to ‘vinage, to ‘plastering, ‘sulphuring,’ 
 &c.—processes of cookery to be presently described. 
 
 This sickness shows itself by the wine becoming 
 turbid, or opalescent, then throwing down either a crust 
 or a loose, troublesome sediment. 
 
 Those of my readers who are sufficiently interested 
 in this subject to care to study it practically should make 
 the following experiment : : 
 
 Dissolve in distilled water, or, better, in water slightly 
 acidulated with hydrochloric acid, as much cream of 
 tartar as will saturate it. This is best done by heating 
 the water, agitating an excess of cream of tartar in it, 
 then allowing the water to cool, the excess of salt to 
 subside, and pouring off the clear solution. Now add 
 to this solution, while quite clear and bright, a little clear 
 brandy, whisky, or other spirit, and mix them by shaking. 
 The solution will become ‘sick, like the wine. Why is 
 this ? 
 
 It depends upon the fact that the bitartrate of potash, 
 or cream of tartar, is soluble to some extent in water, 
 but almost insoluble in alcohol. Ina mixture of alcohol 
 and water its solubility is intermediate—the more alcohol 
 the smaller the quantity that can be held in solution 
 (hydrochloric and most other acids, excepting tartaric, 
 increase its solubility in water). Thus, if we have a 
 saturated solution of this salt either in pure water or 
 
UHE COOKERY OF WINE. 278 
 
 acidulated water, or wine, the addition of alcohol throws 
 some of it down in solid form, and this-makes the solu- 
 tion sick or turbid. When pure water or acidulated 
 water is used, as in the above-described experiment, 
 crystals of the salt are freely formed, and fall down 
 readily ; but with a complex liquid like wine, containing 
 saccharine and mucilaginous matter, the precipitation 
 takes place very slowly ; the particles are excessively 
 minute, become entangled with the mucilage, &c., and 
 thus remain suspended for a long time, maintaining the 
 turbidity accordingly. | 
 
 Now, this bitartrate of potash is the characteristic 
 natural salt of the grape, and its unfermented juice is 
 saturated with it. As fermentation proceeds, and the 
 sugar of the grape-juice is converted into alcohol, the 
 capacity of the juice for holding the salt in solution 
 diminishes, and it is gradually thrown down. But it 
 does not fall alone. It carries with it some of the 
 colouring and extractive matter of the grape-juice. This 
 precipitate, in its crude state called argol, or roher Wein- 
 stein, is the source from which we obtain the tartaric 
 acid of commerce, the cream of tartar, and other salts of 
 tartaric acid. 
 
 Now let us suppose that we have a natural, unsophis- 
 ticated wine. It is evident that it is saturated with the 
 tartrate, since only so much argol was thrown down 
 during fermentation as it was unable to retain. It is 
 further evident that if such a wine has not been ex- 
 haustively fermented, ze. if it still contains some of the 
 original grape-sugar, and if any further fermentation of 
 this sugar takes place, the capacity of the mixture for 
 holding the tartrate in solution becomes diminished, and 
 a further precipitation must occur. This precipitation 
 will come down very slowly, will consist not merely of 
 
 L 
 
274 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 pure crystals of cream of tartar, but of minute particles 
 carrying with it some colouring matter, extractives, &c., 
 and thus spoiling the brilliancy of the wine, making it 
 more or less turbid. 
 But this is not all. Boiling water dissolves 4th of 
 
 its weight of cream of tartar, cold water only ;4 th, and, 
 at intermediate tempe atures, intermediate quantities. 
 Therefore, if we lower the temperature of a saturated 
 solution, precipitation occurs. Hence, the sickening of 
 wine due to change of cellars or change of climate, 
 even when no further fermentation occurs. The lighter 
 the wine, ze. the less alcohol it contains naturally, the 
 more tartrate it contains, and the greater the liability to 
 this source of sickness. 
 
 This, then, is the temporary sickness to which I 
 have referred. I have proved the truth of this theory 
 by filtering such sickened wine through laboratory filter- 
 ing paper, thereby rendering it transparent, and obtaining 
 on the paper all the guilty disturbing matter. I found 
 it to be a kind of argol, but containing a much larger pro- 
 portion of extractive and colouring matter, and a smaller 
 proportion of tartrate than the argol of commerce. I 
 operated upon rich new Catalan wine. 
 
 This brings me at once to the source or origin of 
 a sort of wine-cookery by no means so legitimate as the 
 Pasteuring already described, as it frequently amounts 
 to serious adulteration. The wine-merchants are here 
 the victims of their customers, who demand an amount 
 of transparency that is simply impossible as a permanent 
 condition of unsophisticated grape-wine. To anybody 
 who has any knowledge of the chemistry of wine, nothing 
 can be more ludicrous than the antics of the pretending 
 connoisseur of wine who holds his glass up to the light, 
 shuts one eye (even at the stage before double vision 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 275 
 
 commences), and admires the brilliancy of the liquid, 
 this very brilliancy being, in nineteen samples out of 
 twenty, the evidence of adulteration, cookery, or sophis- 
 tication of some kind. Genuine wine made from pure 
 grape-juice without chemical manipulation is a liquid 
 that is never reliably clear, for the reasons above stated. 
 Partial precipitation, sufficient to produce opalescence, is 
 continually taking place, and therefore the unnatural 
 brilliancy demanded is obtained by substituting the 
 natural and wholesome tartrate by salts of mineral acids, 
 and even by the free mineral acid itself. At one time 
 I deemed this latter adulteration impossible, but have 
 been convinced by direct examination of samples of 
 high-priced (mark this, not cheap) dry sherries that they 
 contained free sulphuric and sulphurous acid. 
 
 The action of this free mineral acid on the wine will 
 be understood by what I have already explained con- 
 cerning the solubility of the bitartrate of potash. This 
 solubility is greatly increased by a little of such acid, 
 and therefore the transparency of the wine is by such 
 addition rendered stable, unaffected by changes of tem- 
 perature. 
 
 But what is the effect of such free mineral acid on 
 the drinker of the wine? If he is in any degree pre- 
 disposed to gout, rheumatism, stone, or any of the lithic 
 acid diseases, his life is sacrificed, with preceding tor- 
 tures of the most horrible kind. It has been stated, and 
 probably with truth, that the late Emperor Napoleon III. 
 drank dry sherry, and was a martyr of this kind. I 
 repeat emphatically that, generally speaking, high-priced 
 dry sherries are far worse than cheap Marsala, both as 
 regards the quantity they contain of sulphates and free 
 acid. 
 
 Anybody who doubts this may convince himself by 
 
 T2 
 
276 THE CHEMISTRY OF “COCK Baw, 
 
 simply purchasing a little chloride of barium, dissolving 
 it in distilled water, and adding to the sample of wine 
 to be tested a few drops of this solution. 
 
 Pure wine, containing its full supply of natural tar- 
 trate, will become cloudy to a small extent, and gra- 
 dually. A small precipitate will be formed by the 
 tartrate. The wine that contains either free sulphuric 
 acid or any of its compounds will yield zwmedzately a 
 copious white precipitate like chalk, but much more 
 dense. This is sulphate of baryta. The experiment may 
 be made in a common wine-glass, but better in a cylin- 
 drical test-tube, as, by using in this a fixed quantity in 
 each experiment, a rough notion of the relative quantity 
 of sulphate may be formed by the depth of the white 
 layer after all has come down. To determine this accu- 
 rately, the wine, after applying the test, should be filtered 
 through proper filtering paper, and the precipitate and 
 paper burnt in a platinum or porcelain crucible and then 
 weighed ; but this demands apparatus not always avail- 
 able, and some technical skill. The simple demonstra- 
 tion of the copious precipitation is instructive, and those 
 of my readers who are practical chemists, but have not 
 yet applied this test to such wines, will be astonished, as 
 I was, at the amount of precipitation. 
 
 I may add that my first experience was upon a 
 sample of dry sherry, brought to me by a friend who 
 bought his wine of a respectable wine-merchant, and 
 paid a high price for it, but found that it disagreed with 
 him ; it contained an alarming quantity of free sulphuric 
 acid. Since that I have tested scores of samples, some 
 of the finest in the market, sent to me bya conscientious 
 importer as the best he could obtain, and these contained 
 sulphate of potash instead of bitartrate. 
 
 My friend, the sherry-merchant, could not account 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 277 
 
 for it, though he was most anxious to do so. This was 
 about three years ago. By dint of inquiry and cross- 
 examination of experts in the wine trade, I have, I 
 believe, discovered the origin of the sulphate of potash 
 that is contained in the samples that the British wine- 
 merchant sells as he buys, and conscientiously believes 
 to be pure. 
 
 At first I hunted up all the information I could 
 obtain from books concerning the manufacture of sherry ; 
 learned that the grapes are usually sprinkled with a little 
 powdered sulphur as they are placed in the vats prior to 
 stamping. The quantity thus added, however, is quite 
 insufficient to account for the sulphur compounds in the 
 samples of wine Iexamined. Another source is described 
 in the books—that from sulphuring the casks. This pro- 
 cess consists simply of burning sulphur inside a partially- 
 filled or empty cask, until the exhaustion of free oxygen 
 and its replacement by sulphurous acid renders further 
 combustion impossible. The cask is then filled with the 
 wine. This would add a little of sulphurous acid, but 
 still not sufficient. 
 
 Then comes the ‘ plastering,’ or intentional addition 
 of gypsum (plaster of Paris). This, if largely carried 
 out, is sufficient to explain the complete conversion of 
 the natural tartrates into sulphates of potash, and such 
 plastering is admitted to be an adulteration or sophisti- 
 cation. I obtained samples of sherry from a reliable 
 source, which I have no doubt the shipper honestly 
 believed to have been subjected to no such deliberate 
 plastering; still, from these came down an extravagantly 
 excessive precipitate on the addition of chloride of 
 barium solution. . 
 
 I afterwards learned that ‘Spanish earth’ was used 
 
 in the fining. Why Spanish earth in preference to 
 
278 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 isinglass or white of egg, which are quite unobjection- 
 able and very efficient? To this question I could get - 
 no satisfactory answer directly, but learned vaguely that 
 the fining produced by the white of egg, though com- 
 plete at the time, was not permanent, while that effected 
 by Spanish earth, containing much sulphate of lime, is 
 permanent. The brilliancy thus obtained is not lost by 
 age or variations of temperature, and the dry sherries 
 thus cooked are preferred by English wine-drinkers. 
 
 The sulphate of potash which, by the action of 
 sulphate of lime, is made to replace bitartrate, is so 
 readily soluble that neither changes of temperature nor 
 increase of alcohol, due to further fermentation, will 
 throw it down; and thus the wine-maker and wine- 
 merchant, without any guilty intent, and ignorant of 
 what he is really doing, sophisticates the wine, alters its 
 essential composition, and adds an impurity in doing 
 what he supposes to be a mere clarification or removal 
 of impurities. 
 
 . I have heard of genuine sherries being returned as 
 bad to the shipper because they were genuine, and had 
 been fined without sophistication. 
 
 My own experience of genuine wines in wine-growing 
 countries teaches me that such wines are rarely brilliant ; 
 and the variations of solubility of the natural salt of the 
 grape, which I have already explained, shows why this 
 is the case. If the drinkers of sherry and other white 
 and golden wines would cease to demand the con- 
 ventional brilliancy, they would soon be supplied with 
 the genuine article, which really costs the wine-merchant 
 less than the cooked product they now insist upon having. 
 This foolish demand of his customers merely gives him 
 a large amount of unnecessary trouble and annoyance. 
 
 So far, the wine-merchant ; but how about the con- 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 279 
 
 sumer? Simply that the substitution of a mineral acid 
 —the sulphuric for a vegetable acid (the tartaric)— 
 supplies him with a precipitant of lithic acid in his own 
 body ; that is, provides him with the source of gout, 
 rheumatism, gravel, stone, &c., with which English wine- 
 drinkers are proverbially rey 
 ; I am the more urgent in propounding this view of 
 the subject, because I see plainly that not only the 
 patients, but too commonly their medical advisers, do 
 not understand it. When I was in the midst of these 
 experiments I called upon a clerical neighbour, and 
 found him in his study with his foot on a pillow, and 
 groaning with gout. A decanter of pale, choice, very 
 dry sherry was on the table. He poured out a glass for 
 me and another for himself. I tasted it, and then per- 
 petrated the unheard-of rudeness of denouncing the wine 
 for which my host had paid so high a price. He knew 
 a little chemistry, and I accordingly went home forth- 
 with, brought back some chloride of barium, added it to 
 his choice sherry, and showed him a precipitate which 
 made him shudder. He drank no more dry sherry, and 
 has had no serious relapse of gout. 
 
 In this case his medical adviser OME oe port and 
 advised dry sherry. 
 
 The following from ‘The Brewer, Distiller, and Wine 
 Manufacturer, by John Gardner (Churchill’s ‘ Techno- 
 logical Handbooks,’ 1883), supports my view of the 
 position of the wine-maker and wine-merchant. ‘Dupré 
 and Thudicum have shown by experiment that this 
 practice of plastering, as it is called, also reduces the 
 yield of the liquid, as a considerable part of the wine 
 mechanically combines with the gypsum and is lost.’ 
 When an adulteration—justly so-called—is practised, 
 the object is to enable the perpetrator to obtain an 
 
280 THE: CHEMISTRY OF COOKER. 
 
 increased profit on selling the commodity at a given 
 price. In this case an opposite result is obtained. The 
 gypsum, or Spanish earth, is used in considerable quan- 
 tity, and leaves a bulky residuum, which carries away 
 some of the wine with it, and thus increases the cost to 
 the seller of the saleable result. 
 
 Having referred so often to dry wines, I should 
 explain the chemistry of this so-called dryness. The 
 fermentation of wine is the result of a vegetable growth, 
 that of the yeast, a microscopic fungus (Penzcillium 
 glaucum). The must, or juice of the grape, obtains the 
 germ spontaneously—probably from the atmosphere. 
 Two distinct effects are produced by this fermentation 
 or growth of fungus: first, the sugar of the must is con- 
 verted into alcohol ; second, more or less of the albu- 
 minous or nitrogenous matter of the must is consumed 
 as food by the fungus. If uninterrupted, this fermenta- 
 tion goes on either until the supply of sufficient sugar 
 is stopped, or until the supply of sufficient albuminous 
 matter is stopped. The relative proportions of these 
 determine which of the two shall be first exhausted. 
 
 If the sugar is exhausted before the nitrogenous food 
 of the fungus, a dry wine is produced ; if the nitrogenous 
 food is first consumed, the remaining unfermented sugar 
 produces a sweet wine. If the sugar is greatly in excess, 
 a vin de liqueur is the result, such as the Frontignac, 
 Lunel, Rivesaltes, &c., made from the muscat grape. 
 
 The varieties of grape are very numerous. Rusby, 
 in his ‘ Visit to the Vineyards of Spain and France,’ 
 gives a list of 570 varieties, and, as far back as 1827, 
 Cavalow enumerated more than 1,500 different wines in 
 France alone. 
 
 From the above it will be understood that, ceteris 
 paribus, the poorer the grape the drier the wine; or that 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE, 281 
 
 a given variety of grape will yield a drier wine if grown 
 where it ripens imperfectly, than if grown in a warmer 
 climate. But the quantity of wine obtainable from a 
 given acreage in the cooler climate is less than where 
 the sun is more effective, and thus the zaturally dry 
 wines cost more to produce than the xaturally sweet 
 wines. 
 
 The reader will understand, from what has already 
 been stated concerning the origin of the difference be- 
 tween natural sweet wines and natural dry wines, that 
 the conversion of either one into the other is not a diffi- 
 cult problem. Wine is a fashionable beverage in this 
 country, and fashions fluctuate. These fluctuations are 
 not accompanied with a corresponding variation in the 
 chemical composition of any particular class of grapes, 
 but somehow the wine produced therefrom obeys the 
 laws of supply and demand. For some years past the 
 demand for dry sherry has dominated in this country, 
 though, as I am informed, the weathercock of fashion is 
 now on the turn. 
 
 One mode of satisfying this demand for dry wine is, 
 of course, to make it from a grape which has little sugar 
 and much albuminous matter, but in a given district this 
 is not always possible. Another is to gather the grapes 
 before they are fully ripened, but this involves a sacrifice 
 in the yield of alcohol, and probably of flavour. Another 
 method, obvious enough to the chemist, is to add as 
 much albuminous or nitrogenous material as shall con- 
 tinue to feed the yeast fungus until all, or nearly all, the 
 sugar in the grape shall be converted into alcohol, thus 
 supplying strength and dryness (or salinity) simultane- 
 ously. Should these be excessive, the remedy is simple 
 and cheap wherever water abounds. It should be noted 
 that the quantity of sugar naturally contained in the 
 
282 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOK Ea. 
 
 ripe grape varies from Io to 30 per cent.—a very large 
 range. The quantity of alcohol varies proportionally 
 when the must is fermented to dryness. According to 
 Pavy, ‘there are dry sherries to be met with that are free 
 from sugar, while in other wines the quantity of remain- 
 ing sugar amounts to as much as 20 per cent. 
 
 White of egg and gelatin are the most easily avail- 
 able and innocent forms of nitrogenous material that 
 may be used for sustaining or renewing the fermentation 
 of wines that are to be artificially dried. My inquiries in 
 the trade lead me to conclude that this is not understood 
 as wellas it should be. Both white of egg and gelatin 
 (in the form of isinglass or otherwise) are freely used 
 for fining, and it is well enough known that wines that 
 have been freely subjected to such fining keep better 
 and become drier with age, but I have never yet meta 
 wine-merchant who understood why, nor any sound ex- 
 planation of the fact in the trade literature. When thus 
 added to the wine already fermented, the effect is doubt- 
 less due to the promotion of a slow, secondary fermenta- 
 tion. The bulk of the gelatin or albumen is carried 
 down with the sediment, but some remains in solution. 
 There may be some doubt as to the albumen thus 
 remaining, but none concerning the gelatin, which is 
 freely soluble both in water and alcohol. The truly 
 scientific mode of applying this principle would be to 
 add the nitrogenous material to the must. 
 
 I dwell thus upon this because, if fashion insists so 
 imperatively upon dryness as to compel artificial drying, 
 this method is the least objectionable, being a close imi- 
 tation of natural drying, almost identical ; while there 
 are other methods of inducing fictitious dryness that are 
 mischievous adulterations. 
 
 Generally described, these consist in producing an 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 283 
 
 imitation of the natural salinity of the dry wine by the 
 addition of factitious salts and fortifying with alcohol. 
 The sugar remains, but is disguised thereby. It was a 
 wine thus treated that first brought the subject of the 
 sulphates, already referred to, under my notice. It con- 
 tained a considerable quantity of sugar, but was not 
 perceptibly sweet. It was very strong and decidedly 
 acid; contained free sulphuric acid and alum, which, as 
 all who have tasted it know, gives a peculiar sense of 
 dryness to the palate. 
 
 The sulphuring, plastering, and use of Spanish earth 
 increase the dryness of a given wine by adding mineral 
 acid and mineral salts. In a paper recently read be- 
 fore the French Academy by L. Magnier de la Source 
 (‘Comptes Rendus,’ vol. xcviii. page 110), the author 
 states that ‘plastering modifies the chemical characters 
 of the colouring matter of the wine, and not only does 
 the calcium sulphate decompose the potassium hydrogen 
 tartrate (cream of tartar), with formation of calcium 
 tartrate, potassium sulphate, and free tartaric acid, but 
 it also decomposes the neutral organic compounds of 
 potassium which exist in the juice of the grape.’ I quote 
 from abstract in ‘Journal of the Chemical Society’ of 
 May 1884. 
 
 In the French ‘ Journal of Pharmaceutical Chemistry,’ 
 vol. vi. pp. 118-123 (1882), is a paper, by P. Carles, in 
 which the chemical and hygienic results of plastering 
 are discussed. His general conclusion is, that the use 
 of gypsum in clearing wines ‘renders them hurtful as 
 beverages ;’ that the gypsum acts ‘on the potassium 
 bitartrate in the juice of the grape, forming calcium tar- 
 trate, tartaric acid, and potassium sulphate, a large pro- 
 portion of the last two bodies remaining in the wine.’ 
 Unplastered wines contain about two grammes of free 
 
284 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 acid per litre; after plastering, they contain ‘ double or 
 treble that amount, and even more.’ 
 
 A German chemist, Griessmayer, and more recently 
 another, Kaiser, have also studied this subject, and arrive 
 at similar conclusions. Kaiser analysed wines which 
 were plastered by adding gypsum to the must, that is to - 
 the juice before fermentation, and also samples in which 
 the gypsum was added to the ‘finished wine, ze. for 
 fining, so-called. He found that ‘in the finished wine, 
 by the addition of gypsum, the tartaric acid is replaced 
 by sulphuric acid, and there is a perceptible increase in 
 the calcium ; the other constituents remain unaltered.’ 
 His conclusion is that the plastering of wine should 
 be called adulteration, and treated accordingly, on the 
 ground that the article in question is thereby deprived 
 of its characteristic constituents, and others, not normally 
 present, are introduced. This refers more especially 
 to the plastering or gypsum fining of finished wines. 
 (Biedermann’s ‘ Centralblatt,’ 1881, pp. 632, 633.) 
 
 In the paper above named, by P. Carles, we are told 
 that ‘owing to the injurious nature of the impurities of 
 plastered wines, endeavours have been made to free 
 them from these by a method called “deplastering,” but 
 the remedy proves worse than the defect.’ The samples 
 analysed by Carles contained barium salts, barium chlo- 
 ride having been used to remove the sulphuric acid. In 
 some cases excess of the barium salt was found in 
 the wine, and in others barium sulphate was held in 
 suspension. 
 
 Closely following the abstract of this paper, in the 
 ‘ Journal of the Chemical Society,’ is another from the 
 French ‘ Journal of Pharmaceutical Chemistry,’ vol. v. 
 pp. 581-3, to which I now refer, by the way, for the in- 
 struction of claret-drinkers, who may not be aware of 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 7 285 
 
 the fact that the phylloxera destroyed all the claret 
 grapes in certain districts of France, without stopping 
 the manufacture or diminishing the export of claret 
 itself.. In this paper, by J. Lefort, we are told, as a 
 matter of course, that ‘owing to the ravages of the 
 phylloxera among the vines, substitutes for grape-juice 
 are being introduced for the manufacture of wines; of 
 these, the author specially condemns the use of beet- 
 root sugar, since, during its fermentation, besides ethyl 
 alcohol and aldehyde, it yields propyl, butyl, and amyl 
 alcohols, which have been shown by Dujardin and 
 Audige to act as poisons in very small quantities.’ 
 
 In connection with this subject I may add that the 
 French Government carefully protects its own citizens 
 by rigid inspection and analysis of the wines offered for ~ 
 sale to French wine-drinkers ; but does not feel bound 
 to expend its funds and energies in hampering commerce 
 by severe examination of the wines that are exported to 
 ‘John Bull et son Ile, especially as John Bull ‘is known 
 to have a robust constitution. Thus, vast quantities of 
 brilliantly coloured liquid, flavoured with orris root, 
 which would not be allowed to pass the barriers of Paris, 
 but must go somewhere, is drunk in England at a cost 
 of four times as much as the Frenchman pays for genuine 
 grape-wine. The coloured concoction being brighter, 
 skilfully cooked, and duly labelled to imitate the pro- 
 ducts of real or imaginary celebrated vineyards, is pre- 
 ferred by the English gourmet to anything that can be 
 made from simple grape-juice. 
 
 I should add that a character somewhat similar to 
 that of natural dryness is obtained by mixing with the 
 grape-juice wine a secondary product, obtained by add- 
 ing water to the marc (ze. the residue of skins, &c., that 
 remains after pressing out the must or juice) ; aminimum 
 
286 THE CHEMISTRY OF “COORE we 
 
 of sugar is dissolved in the water, and this liquor is fer- 
 mented. The skins and seeds contain much tannic acid 
 or astringent matter, and this roughness imposes upon 
 many wine-drinkers, provided the price charged for the 
 wine thus cheapened be sufficiently high. : 
 
 Some years ago, while resident in Birmingham, an 
 enterprising manufacturing druggist consulted me on a 
 practical difficulty which he was unable to solve. He 
 had succeeded in producing a very fine claret (Chateau 
 Digbeth, let us call it) by duly fortifying with silent 
 spirit a solution of cream of tartar, and flavouring this 
 with a small quantity of orris root. Tasted in the dark 
 it was all that could be desired for introducing a new 
 industry to Birmingham ; but the wine was white, and 
 every colouring material that he had tried producing 
 the required tint marred the flavour and bouquet of the 
 pure Chateau Digbeth. He might have used one of the 
 magenta dyes, but as these were prepared by boiling 
 aniline over dry arsenic acid,and my Birmingham friend 
 was burdened with a conscience, he refrained from 
 thus applying one of the recent triumphs of chemical 
 science. 
 
 This was previous to the invasion of France by the 
 phylloxera. During the early period of that visitation, 
 French enterprise being more powerfully stimulated and 
 less scrupulous than that of Birmingham, made use of 
 the aniline dyes for colouring spurious claret to such an 
 extent that the French Government interfered, and a 
 special test paper named C#nokrine was invented by 
 MM. Lainville and Roy, and sold in Paris for the pur- 
 pose of detecting falsely-coloured wines. 
 
 The mode of using the Cénokrine is as follows: 
 ‘A slip of the paper is steeped in pure wine for about 
 five seconds, briskly shaken, in order to remove excess 
 
ga eeCOOKLRY, OF UINE, 287 
 
 of liquid, and then placed on a sheet of white paper to 
 serve as a standard. A second slip of the test-paper 
 is then steeped in the suspected wine in the same 
 manner, and laid beside the former. It is asserted that 
 I-100,000 of magenta is sufficient to give the paper a 
 violet shade, whilst a larger quantity produces a carmine 
 red. With genuine red wine the colour produced is a 
 greyish blue, which becomes lead-coloured on drying.’ I 
 copy the above from the ‘ Quarterly Journal of Science’ 
 of April 1877. The editor adds that the inventors of 
 this paper have discovered a method of removing the 
 magenta from wines without injuring their quality, ‘a 
 fact of some importance, if it be true that several hun- 
 dred thousand hectolitres of wine sophisticated with 
 magenta are in the hands of the wine-merchants’ (a 
 hectolitre is = 22 gallons). 
 
 Another simple test that was recommended at the 
 time was to immerse a small wisp of raw silk! in the 
 suspected wine, keeping it there at a boiling heat fora 
 few minutes. Aniline colours dye the silk permanently ; 
 the natural colour of the grape is easily washed out. I 
 find on referring to the ‘Chemical News,’ the ‘Journal 
 of the Chemical Society, the ‘Comptes Rendus,’ and 
 other scientific periodicals of the period of the phylloxera 
 plague, such a multitude of methods for testing false 
 colouring materials that I give up in despair my original 
 intention of describing them in detail. It would demand 
 far more space than the subject deserves. I will, how- 
 ever, just name a few of the more harmless colouring 
 adulterants that are stated to have been used, and for 
 
 1 In repeating these experiments I find that the best form of silk is that 
 which the Coventry dyers technically call ‘boiled silk,’ z.e. raw silk boiled 
 in potash to remove its resinous varnish. In this state the aniline dyes 
 attach themselves to the fibre very readily and firmly. 
 
288 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOR aa 
 
 which special tests have been devised by French and 
 German chemists: 
 
 Beet-root, peach-wood, elderberries, mulberries, log- 
 wood, privet-berries, litmus, ammoniacal cochineal, Fer- 
 nambucca-wood, phytolacca, burnt sugar, extract of 
 rhatany, bilberries ; ‘jerupiga’ or ‘geropiga,’ a ‘com- 
 pound of elder juice, brown sugar, grape juice, and 
 crude Portuguese brandy’ (for choice tawny port) ; 
 ‘tincture of saffron, turmeric, or safflower’ (for golden 
 sherry) ; red poppies, mallow flowers, &c. 
 
 Those of my readers who have done anything in 
 practical chemistry are well acquainted with blue and 
 red litmus, and the general fact that such vegetable 
 colours change from blue to red when exposed to an 
 acid, and return to blue when the acid is overcome by 
 an alkali. The colouring matter of the grape is one of 
 these. Mulder and Maumené have given it the name of 
 aenocyan or wine-blue, as its colour, when neutral, is blue ; 
 the red colour of genuine wines is due to the presence 
 of tartaric and acetic acid acting upon the wine-blue. 
 There are a few purple wines, their colour being due to 
 unusual absence of acid. The original vintage which 
 gave celebrity to port wine is an example of this. 
 
 The bouquet of wine is usually described as due to 
 the presence of ether, wzanthic ether, which is naturally 
 formed during the fermentation of grape juice, and is 
 itself a variable mixture of other ethers, such as caprilic, 
 caproic, &c. The oil of the seed of the grape contri- 
 butes to the bouquet. ‘The fancy values of fancy wines 
 are largely due, or more properly speaking weve largely 
 due, to peculiarities of bouquet. These peculiar wines 
 became costly because their supply was limited, only a 
 certain vineyard, in some cases of very small area, pro- 
 ducing the whole crop of the fancy article. The high 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE. 289 
 
 price once established, and the demand far exceeding 
 the possibilities of supply from the original source, other 
 and resembling wines are now sold under the name of 
 the celebrated locality with the bouquet or a bouquet 
 artificially introduced. It has thus come about in the 
 ordinary course of business that the dearest wines of 
 the choicest brands are those which are the most likely 
 to be sophisticated. ‘The flavouring of wine, the im- 
 parting of delicate bouquet, is a high art, and is costly. 
 It is only upon high-priced wines that such costly opera- 
 tions can be practised. Simple ordinary grape-juice— 
 as I have already stated—is so cheap when and where 
 its quality is the highest, z.e.in good seasons and suitable 
 climates, that adulteration with anything but water 
 renders the adulterated product more costly than the 
 genuine. When there is a good vintage it does not pay 
 even to add sugar and water to the marc or residue, and 
 press this a second time. It is more profitable to use 
 it for making inferior brandy, or wine oil, huzle de mare, 
 or even for fodder or manure. 
 
 This, however, only applies where the demand is for 
 simple genuine wine, a demand almost unknown in 
 England, where connoisseurs abound who pass their 
 
 ' glasses horizontally under their noses, hold them up to 
 
 the light to look for beeswings and absurd transparency, 
 knowingly examine the brand on the cork, and otherwise 
 offer themselves as willing dupes to be pecuniarily im- 
 molated on the great high altar of the holy shrine of 
 costly humbug. 
 
 Some years ago I was at Frankfort, on my way to 
 the Tyrol and Venice, and there saw, at a few paces 
 before me, an unquestionable Englishman, with an ill- 
 slung knapsack. I spoke to him, earned his gratitude 
 at once by showing him how to dispense with that knap- 
 
 U 
 
290 THE CHEMISTRY OF (COOKE a. 
 
 sack abomination, the breast-strap. We chummed, and 
 put up at a genuine German hostelry of my selection, 
 the Gasthaus zum Schwanen. Here we supped with a 
 multitude of natives, to the great amusement of my 
 new friend, who had hitherto halted at hotels devised 
 for Englishmen. The handmaiden served us with wine 
 in tumblers, and we both pronounced it excellent. My 
 new friend was enthusiastic ; the bouquet was superior 
 to anything he had ever met with before, and if it could 
 only-be fined—it was not by any means bright—it would 
 be invaluable. He then took me into his confidence. 
 He was in the wine trade, assisting in his father’s 
 business ; the ‘governor’ had told him to look out in 
 the course of his travels, as there were obscure vine- 
 yards here and there producing very choice wines that 
 might be contracted for at very low prices. This was 
 one of them ; here was good business. If I would help 
 him to learn all about it, presentation cases of wine 
 should be poured upon me for ever after. 
 
 I accordingly asked the handmaiden, ‘Was fiir 
 Wein?’ &c. Her answer was, ‘Apfel-Wein.” She 
 was frightened at my burst of laughter, and the young 
 wine-merchant also imagined that he had made ac- 
 quaintance with a lunatic, until I translated the answer, 
 ~ and told him that we had been drinking cider. We 
 called for more, and ¢henx recognised the ‘ curious’ 
 bouquet at once. 
 
 The manufacture of bouquets has made great pro- 
 gress of late, and they are much cheaper than formerly. 
 Their chief source is coal-tar, the refuse from gas-works. 
 That most easily produced is the essence of bitter 
 almonds, which supplies a ‘nutty’ flavour and bouquet 
 Anybody may make it by simply adding benzol (the 
 most volatile portion of the coal-tar), in small portions 
 
PEE COOKERY OF WINE. 291 
 
 at a time, to warm, fuming nitric acid. On cooling and 
 diluting the mixture, a yellow oil, which solidifies at a 
 little above the freezing point of water, is formed. It 
 may be purified by washing first with water, and then 
 with a weak solution of carbonate of soda to remove 
 the excess of acid. It is now largely used in cookery 
 as essence of bitter almonds. Its old perfumery name 
 was Essence of Mirbane. 
 
 By more elaborate operations on the coal-tar product, 
 a number of other essences and bouquets of curiously 
 imitative character are produced. One of the most 
 familiar of these is the essence of jargonelle pears, 
 which flavours the ‘ pear drops’ of the confectioner so 
 cunningly ; another is raspberry flavour, by the aid of 
 which a mixture of fig-seeds, and apple-pulp, duly 
 coloured, may be converted into a raspberry jam 
 that would deceive our Prime Minister. I do not say 
 that it now is so used (though I believe it has been), 
 for the simple reason that wholesale jam-makers now 
 grow their own fruit so cheaply that the genuine article 
 costs no more than the sham. Raspberries can be 
 grown and gathered at a cost of about twopence per 
 pound, 
 
 With wine at 60s. to 100s. per dozen the case is dif- 
 ferent. The price leaves an ample margin for the con- 
 version of ‘Italian reds, Catalans, and other sound 
 ordinary wines into any fancy brands that may happen 
 “to be in fashion. Such being the case, the mere fact that 
 certain emperors or potentates have bought up the whole 
 produce of the chateau that is named on the labels does 
 not interfere with the market supply, which is strictly 
 regulated by the demand.’ 
 
 1 The following is from Knowledge of August 15, 1884. It is editorial, 
 
 not mine, though I have heard these ‘Spirit Flavours’ spoken of by 
 U2 
 
292 THE CHEMISTRY OF COGKiara] 
 
 Visiting a friend in the trade, he offered me a glass 
 of the wine that he drank himself when at home, and 
 supplied to his own family. He asked my opinion of it. 
 I replied that I thought it was genuine grape-juice, re- 
 sembling that which I had been accustomed to drink at 
 country inns in the Céte d’Or (Burgundy) and in Italy. 
 He told me that he imported it directly from a district 
 near to that I first named, and could supply it at 12s. 
 per dozen with a fair profit. Afterwards, when calling 
 at his place of business in the West-end, he told me that 
 one of his best customers had just been tasting the 
 various samples of dinner claret then remaining on the 
 table, some of them expensive, and that he had chosen 
 the same as I had, but what was my friend to do? Had 
 he quoted 12s. per dozen, he would have lost one of 
 his best customers, and sacrificed his reputation as a 
 high-class wine-merchant ; therefore he quoted 54s., and 
 both buyer and seller were perfectly satisfied: the wine- 
 
 experts as ordinary merchandise. The Hungarian wine oil is one of them : 
 ‘JT have just obtained what is expressively known as “a wrinkle” from 
 a wholesale price-list of a distiller which has fallen (no matter how) into 
 my hands. That it was never intended to be seen by any mortal eyes 
 outside of ‘‘the trade” goes without saying. In this highly instructive 
 document I find, under the head of ‘‘ Spirit Flavours,” ‘‘ the attention of 
 consumers in Australia and India” (we needn’t say anything about Eng- 
 land) ‘‘is particularly called to these very useful and excellent flavours. 
 One pound of either of these essences to fifty gallons of plain spirit ” (let 
 us suppose potato spirit) ‘‘ will make immediately a fine brandy or old 
 tom, &c., without the use ofa still.—See Lancet report.” This is followed 
 by a list of prices of these ‘‘ flavours,” and then follows a similar one of 
 ‘‘ Wine Aromas.” A cheerful look-out all this presents, upon my word ! 
 The confiding traveller calls at his inn for some old brandy, and they make 
 it in the bar while he is waiting. He orders a pint of claret or port, and 
 straightway he is served with some that has been two and a half minutes 
 in bottle! After the perusal of this price-list, I have come to the con- 
 clusion that in the case of noarticles of consumption whatever is the motto 
 Caveat emptor more needful to be attended to than in that of (so-called) 
 wines and spirits.’ 
 
THE COOKERY OF WINE, 293 
 
 merchant madea large profit, and the customer obtained 
 what he demanded—a good wine at a‘ respectable price.’ 
 He could not insult his friends by putting cheap 12s. 
 trash on “zs table. 
 
 Here arises an ethical question. Was the wine- 
 merchant justified in making this charge under the cir- 
 cumstances ; or, otherwise stated, who was to blame for 
 ‘the crookedness of the transaction? I say the customer ; 
 my verdict is, ‘Sarve him right!’ 
 
 In reference to wines, and still more to cigars, and 
 some other useless luxuries, the typical Englishman is 
 a victim to a prevalent) commercial superstition. He 
 blindly assumes that price must necessarily represent 
 quality, and therefore shuts his eyes and opens his mouth 
 to swallow anything with complete satisfaction, provided 
 that he pays a good price for it at a respectable esta- 
 blishment, z.e. one where only high-priced articles are 
 sold. 
 
 If any reader thinks I speak too strongly, let him 
 ascertain the market price per lb. of the best Havanna 
 tobacco leaves where they are grown, also the cost of 
 twisting them into cigar shape (a skilful workwoman can 
 make a thousand in a day), then add to the sum of these 
 the cost of packing, carriage, and duty. He will be rather 
 astonished at the result of this arithmetical problem. 
 
 If these things were necessaries of life, or contributed 
 in any degree or manner to human welfare, I should 
 protest indignantly ; but seeing what they are and what 
 they do, I rather rejoice at the limitation of consumption 
 effected by their fancy prices. 
 
294 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE. 
 : 
 
 CHAPTERS AVE 
 
 THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION. 
 
 IN my introductory chapter I said, ‘The fact that we 
 use the digestive and nutrient apparatus of sheep, oxen, 
 &c., for the preparation of our food is merely a tran- 
 sitory barbarism, to be ultimately superseded when my 
 present subject is sufficiently understood and applied to 
 enable us to prepare the constituents of the vegetable 
 kingdom to be as easily assimilated as the prepared 
 erass which we call beef and mutton.’ 
 
 This sentence, when it appeared in ‘ Knowledge,’ 
 brought me in communication with a very earnest body 
 of men and women, who at considerable social incon- 
 venience are abstaining from flesh food, and doing it 
 purely on principle. Some people sneer at them, call 
 them ‘ crotchetty,’ ‘ faddy,’ &c., but, for my own part, I 
 have a great respect for crotchetty people, having learned 
 long ago that every first great step that has ever been 
 taken in the path of human progress was denounced as 
 a crotchet by those it was leaving behind. This respect 
 is quite apart from the consideration of whether I agree 
 or disagree with the crotchets themselves. | 
 
 I therefore willingly respond to the request that I 
 should explain more fully my view of this subject. The 
 fact that there are now in London eight exclusively 
 vegetarian restaurants, and all of them flourishing, shows 
 that it is one of wide interest. 
 
THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION. 295 
 
 At the outset it is necessary to brush aside certain 
 false issues that are commonly raised in discussing this 
 subject. The question is not whether we are herbivorous 
 or carnivorous animals. It is perfectly certain that we 
 are neither. The carnivora feed on flesh a/one, and eat 
 that flesh raw. Nobody proposes that we should do 
 this. The herbivora eat raw grass. Nobody suggests 
 _ that we should follow ¢hezr example. 
 
 It is perfectly clear that man cannot be classed with 
 the carnivorous animals, nor the herbivorous animals, 
 nor with the graminivorous animals. His teeth are not 
 constructed for munching and grinding raw grain, nor 
 his digestive organs for assimilating such grain in this — 
 condition. | 
 
 He is not even to be classed with the omnivorous 
 animals. He stands apart from all as THE COOKING: 
 ANIMAL. 
 
 It is true that there was a time when our ancestors 
 ate raw flesh, including that of each other. 
 
 In the limestone caverns of this and other European 
 countries we find human bones gnawed by human teeth, 
 and split open by flint implements for the evident pur- 
 pose of extracting the marrow, according to the domestic 
 economy of the period. 
 
 The shell mounds that these prehistoric bipeds have 
 left behind, show that mussels, oysters, and other mol- 
 lusca were also eaten raw, and they doubtless varied the 
 menu with snails, slugs, and worms, as the remaining 
 Australian savages still do. Besides these they probably 
 included roots, succulent plants, nuts, and such fruit as 
 then existed. 
 
 There are many among us who are very proud of 
 their ancient lineage, and who think it honourable to go 
 back as far as possible and to maintain the customs 
 
296 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERS. 
 
 of their forefathers; but they all seem to draw a line 
 somewhere, none desiring to go as far back as to 
 their inter-glacial troglodytic ancestors, and, therefore, 
 I need not discuss the desirability of restoring their 
 dietary. 
 
 All human beings became cooks as soon as they 
 learned how to make a fire, and have all continued to be 
 cooks ever since. 
 
 We should, therefore, look at this vegetarian question 
 from the point of view of prepared food, which excludes 
 nearly all comparison with the food of the brute crea- 
 tion. Isay ‘nearly all, because there is one case in 
 which all the animals that approach the nearest to our- 
 selves—the mammalia—are provided naturally with a 
 specially prepared food, viz. the mother’s milk. The 
 composition of this preparation appears to me to throw 
 more light than anything else upon this vegetarian con- 
 troversy, and yet it seems to have been entirely over- 
 looked. 
 
 The milk prepared for the young of the different 
 animals in the laboratory or kitchen of Nature is surely 
 adapted to their structure as regards natural food re- 
 quirements. Without assuming that the human dietetic 
 requirements are identical with either of the other 
 mammals, we may learn something concerning our ap- 
 proximation to one class or another by comparing the 
 composition of human milk with that of the animals in 
 question. 3 
 
 I find ready to hand in Dr. Miller’s ‘Chemistry,’ 
 vol, ili, a comparative statement of the mean of several. 
 analyses of the milk of woman, cow, goat, ass, sheep, and 
 bitch. The latter is a moderately carnivorous animal, 
 nearly approaching the omnivorous character commonly 
 ascribed to man, The following is the statement ; 
 
THE VEGETARIAN QUESTIUN. 297 
 
 Woman | Cow Goat Ass Sheep | Bitch 
 
 Water. , ° » | 88°6 | 87°4 | 82°0 | 90°5 | 85°6 | 66°3 
 Fat : ° pa ea 8} 470) 455 4} 4°54 14S 
 Sugar and soluble salts . | 4°9 5:0 | 4°5 6°4 4°2 2'9 
 Nitrogenous compounds 
 
 and insoluble salts .| 3:9 3°6 | 9°0 ry Sy72e 1160 
 
 According to this it is quite evident that Nature 
 regards our food requirements as approaching much 
 nearer to the herbivora than to the carnivora, and has 
 provided for us accordingly. 
 
 If we are to begin the building-up of our bodies ona 
 food more nearly resembling that of the herbivora than 
 that of the carnivora, it is only reasonable to assume 
 that we should continue on the same principle. 
 
 The particulars of the difference are instructive. The 
 food which Nature provides for the human infant differs 
 from that provided for the young carnivorous animal, just 
 in the same way as flesh food differs from the cultivated 
 and cooked vegetables and fruit within easy reach of man. 
 
 These contain less fat, less nitrogenous matter, more 
 water, and more sugar (or starch, which becomes sugar 
 during digestion) than animal food. 
 
 Those who advocate the use of flesh food usually do 
 so on the ground that it is more nutritious, contains more 
 nitrogenous material and more fat than vegetable food. 
 So much the worse for the human being, says Nature, 
 when she prepares the food. 
 
 But as a matter of practical fact there are no flesh- 
 eaters among us, none who avail themselves of this higher 
 proportion of albuminoids and fat. We all practically 
 admit every day in eating our ordinary English dinner, 
 that this excess of nitrogenous matter and fat is bad; 
 we do so by mixing the meat with that particular vege- 
 table which contains an excess of the carbo-hydrates 
 
298 THE CHEMISTRY. OF COOKERY. 
 
 (starch) with the smallest available quantity of albumin- 
 oids and fat. The slice of meat, diluted with the lump 
 of potato, brings the whole down to about the average 
 composition ofa fairly-arranged vegetarian repast. When 
 I speak of a vegetarian repast, 1 do not mean mere cabbages 
 and potatoes, but properly selected, well cooked, nutri- 
 tious vegetable food. As an example, I will take Count 
 Rumford’s No. 1 soup, already described, without the 
 bread, and in like manner take beef and potatoes with- 
 out bread. Taking original weights, and assuming that 
 the lump of potato weighed the same as the slice of meat, 
 we get the following composition according to the table 
 given by Pavy, page 410: 
 
 Water Sy Starch | Sugar Fat Salts 
 Lean beef . : . | 72°00] 19°30; — — ~ f 2200 81 Per ro 
 Potatoes ° : - | 75°00} 2°10 | 18:80} 3°20 | 0°20 | 0-70 
 
 | |, | 
 ———_—— 
 
 ) 
 
 | i | ce | 
 
 Mean composition of mix- 
 | ture, 4 : » | 73°50) 10°70] 9°40] 1°60 | 1:90 | 2°90 
 
 Rumford’s soup (without the bread afterwards added) 
 was composed of equal measures of peas and pearl 
 barley, or barley meal, and nearly equal weights. Their 
 percentage composition as stated in the above-named 
 table is as follows: 
 
 Water me Starch| Sugar | Fat Salts 
 Pease. : » | 15°00 | 23°00] 55°40) 2°00 | 2°10 | 2°50 
 Barley meal . . - | 15°00 | 6°30] 69°40) 4°90 | 2°40 | 2°00 
 
 Mean composition of mix- 
 ture’ . : : - | 15°00 
 
 14°65 | 62°40) 3°45 | 2°25 | 2°25 
 
THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION. 299 
 
 Here, then, in 100 parts of the material of Rumford’s 
 halfpenny dinner, as compared with the ‘ mixed diet, we 
 have 40 per cent. more of nitrogenous food, more than 
 six and a half times as much carbo-hydrate in the form 
 of starch, more than double the quantity of sugar, about 
 17 per cent. more of fat, and only a little less of salts 
 (supplied by the salt which Rumford added). Thus the 
 “mixed diet’ falls short in all the costly constituents, and 
 only excels by its abundance of very cheap water. 
 
 This analysis supplies the explanation of what has 
 puzzled many inquirers, and encouraged some sneerers 
 at this work of the) great scientific philanthropist, viz. 
 that he allowed less than five ounces of solids for each 
 man’s dinner. He did so and found it sufficient, because 
 he was supplying far more nutritious material than beef 
 and potatoes ; his five ounces was more satisfactory than 
 a pound of beef and potatoes, three-fourths of which is 
 water, for which water John Bull blindly pays a shilling 
 or more per pound when he buys his prime steak. 
 
 Rumford added the water at pump cost, and, by long 
 boiling, caused some of it to unite with the solid ma- 
 terials (by the hydration I have described), and then 
 served the combination in the form of porridge, raising 
 each portion to 192 ounces. 
 
 I might multiply such examples to prove the fallacy 
 of the prevailing notions concerning the nutritive value 
 of the ‘mixed diet,’ a fallacy which is merely an inherited 
 epidemic, a baseless physical superstition. 
 
 I will, however, just add one more example for com- 
 parison—viz. the Highlander’s porridge. The following 
 is the composition of oatmeal—also from Pavy’s table : 
 
 Water : : . 1I§°00| Sugar . : : wa 5 40 
 
 Albumen . ; pear rOO anal sus ; ‘ <= 5°00 
 Starch ; ; » §38°40| Salts, : ; 03°00 
 
300 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE 
 
 Compare this with the beef and potatoes above, and 
 it will be seen that it is superior in every item excepting 
 the water. One hundred ounces of oatmeal contain 1°9 
 ounce more of albumen than is contained in 100 ounces 
 of beef and potatoes mixed in equal proportions, The 
 100 ounces of oatmeal supplies 39°6 ounces more of 
 carbo-hydrate (starch). The 100 ounces of oatmeal is 
 superior to the extent of 3°8 ounces in sugar. It has the 
 advantage by 3°7 ounces in fat, and o'9g ounce in salts, 
 but the mixed diet beats the oatmeal by containing 
 584 ounces more water; nearly four times as much. 
 This deficiency is readily supplied in the cookery. 
 
 These figures explain a puzzle that may have sug- 
 gested itself to some of my thoughtful readers—viz. the 
 smallness of the quantity of dry oatmeal that is used in 
 making a large portion of porridge. If we could, in like 
 manner, see our portion of beef or mutton and potatoes 
 reduced to dryness, the smallness of the quantity of 
 actually solid food required for a meal would be simi- 
 larly manifest. An alderman’s banquet in this condition 
 would barely fill a breakfast cup. 
 
 I cannot at all agree with those of my vegetarian 
 friends who denounce flesh-meat as a prolific source of 
 disease, as inflaming the passions, and generally de- 
 moralising. Neither am I at all disposed to make a reli- 
 gion of either eating, or drinking, or abstaining. There 
 are certain albuminoids, certain carbo-hydrates, certain 
 hydro-carbons, and certain salts demanded for our sus- 
 tenance. Excepting in fruit, these are not supplied by 
 nature in a fit condition for owv use. They must be pre- 
 pared. Whether we do a// the preparation in the kitchen 
 by bringing the produce of the earth directly there, or 
 whether, on account of our ignorance and incapacity as 
 cooks, we pass our food through the stomach, intestines, 
 
THE VEGETARIAN QUESTION. 301 
 
 blood-vessels, &c., of sheep and oxen, as a substitute for 
 the first stages of scientific cookery, the result is about 
 the same as regards the dietic result. 
 
 Flesh feeding is a nasty practice, but I see no grounds 
 for denouncing it as physiologically injurious, excepting 
 in the fact that the liability to gout, rheumatism, and 
 
 neuralgia is increased by it. 
 : In my youthful days I was on friendly terms with a 
 sheep that belonged to a butcher in Jermyn Street. This 
 animal, for some reason, had been spared in its lamb- 
 hood, and was reared as the butcher’s pet. It was well- 
 known in St. James’s by following the butcher’s men 
 through the streets like a dog. I have seen this sheep 
 steal mutton-chops and devour them raw. It preferred 
 beef or mutton to grass. It enjoyed robust health, and 
 was by no means ferocious. 
 
 It was merely a disgusting animal, with excessively 
 perverted appetite; a perversion that supplies very 
 suggestive material for human meditation. 
 
 My own experiments on myself, and the multitude 
 of other experiments that I am daily witnessing among 
 men of all occupations who have cast aside flesh food 
 after many years of mixed diet, prove incontestably that 
 flesh food is quite unnecessary; and also that men and 
 women who emulate the aforesaid sheep to the mild 
 extent of consuming daily about two ounces of animal 
 tissue combined with six ounces of water, and dilute 
 this with such weak vegetable food as the potato, are 
 not measurably altered thereby so far as physical health 
 is concerned.! 
 
 1 Since the above was written I have met with some alarming revela- 
 tions concerning the increasing prevalence of cancer, which, if confirmed, 
 will force me to withdraw this conclusion. This horrible disease has in- 
 creased in England with increase of prosperity—-with increase of luxury in 
 
302 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 On economical grounds, however, the difference is 
 enormous. If all Englishmen were vegetarians and fish- 
 eaters, the whole aspect of the country would be changed. 
 It would be a land of gardens and orchards, instead of 
 gradually reverting to prairie grazing-ground as at 
 present. The unemployed miserables of our great towns, 
 the inhabitants of our union workhouses, and all our 
 rogues and vagabonds, would find ample and suitable 
 employment in agriculture. Every acre of land would 
 require three or four times as much labour as at present, 
 and feed five or six times as many people. 
 
 No sentimental exaggeration is demanded for the 
 recommendation of such a reform as this. 
 
 feeding—which in this country means more flesh food. In the ten years 
 from 1850 to 1860, the deaths from cancer had increased by 2,000; from 
 1860 to 1870 the increase was 2,400 ; from 1870 to 1880 it reached 3,200, 
 above the preceding ten years. The proportion of deaths is far higher 
 among the well-to-do classes than among the poorer classes. It seems to 
 be the one disease that increases with improved general sanitary conditions. 
 The evidence is not yet complete, but as far as it goes it points most 
 ominously to a direct connection between cancer and excessive flesh feeding 
 among people of sedentary habits. The most abundant victims appear to 
 be women who eat much meat and take but little out-of-dvor exercise. 
 
303 
 
 re ERX VITT. 
 
 MALTED FOOD. 
 
 A FEW years ago the ‘farmers’ friends’ were very 
 sanguine on the subject of using malt as cattle food. At 
 agricultural meetings throughout the country the iniqui- 
 tous malt-tax was eloquently denounced because it stood 
 in the way of this great fodder reform. Then the malt- 
 tax was repealed, and forthwith the subject fell out of 
 hearing. Why was this? 
 
 The idea of malt feeding was theoretically sound. 
 By the malting of barley or other grain its diastase is 
 made to act upon its insoluble starch, and to convert 
 this more or less completely into soluble dextrin, a 
 change which is absolutely necessary as a part of the 
 business of digestion. Therefore, if you feed cattle on 
 malted grain instead of raw grain, you supply them 
 with a food so prepared that a part of the business of 
 digestion is already done for them, and their nutrition is 
 thereby advanced. 
 
 From what I am able to learn, the reason why this 
 hopeful theory has not been carried out is simply that 
 it does not ‘pay.’ The advantage in fattening the cattle 
 is not sufficient to remunerate the farmers for the extra 
 cost of the malted food. 
 
 This may be the case with oxen, but it does not 
 follow that it should be the same with human beings. 
 Cattle feed on grass, mangold-wurzels, &c., in their raw 
 
304 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 state, but we cannot; and, as I have already shown, 
 we are not graminivorous in the manner they are ; we 
 cannot digest raw wheat, barley, oats, or maize. 
 
 We cannot do this because we are not supplied with 
 such effective natural grinding apparatus as they have 
 in their mouths, and, further, because we have a much 
 smaller supply of saliva and a shorter alimentary canal. 
 
 We can easily supply our natural deficiencies in the 
 matter of grinding, and do so by means of our flour mills, 
 but at first thought the idea of finding an artificial 
 representative of the saliva of oxen does not recommend 
 itself. When, however, it is understood that the chief 
 active principle of the saliva so closely resembles the 
 diastase of malt that it has received the name of 
 ‘animal diastase, and is probably the same compound, 
 the aspect of the problem changes. 
 
 Not only is this the case with the secretion from 
 the glands surrounding the mouth, but the pancreas 
 which is concerned in a later stage of digestion is a 
 gland so similar to the salivary glands that in ordinary 
 cookery both are dressed and served as ‘sweetbreads ;’ 
 the ‘pancreatic juice’ is a liquid closely resembling 
 saliva, and contains a similar diastase, or substance that 
 converts starch into dextrin, and from dextrin to sugar. 
 Lehmann says, ‘It is now indubitably established that 
 the pancreatic juice possesses this sugar-forming power 
 in a far higher degree than the saliva.’ 
 
 Besides this, there is another sugar-forming secretion, 
 the ‘intestinal juice, which operates on the starch of the 
 food as it passes along the intestinal canal. 
 
 This being the case, we should, in exercising our 
 privilege as cooking animals, be able to assist the 
 digestive functions of the saliva, the pancreatic and in- 
 testinal secretions, just as we help our teeth by the flour 
 
 fp 
 ‘ 
 oe 
 ~_ . —_— = 
 
MALTED FOOD. 305 
 
 mill, and the means of doing this is offered by the 
 diastase of malt. 
 
 In accordance with this reasoning I have made some 
 experiments on a variety of our common vegetable 
 foods, by simply raising them—in contact with water— 
 to the temperature most favourable to the converting 
 action of diastase (140° to 150° Fahrenheit), and then 
 adding a little malt extract or malt flour. 
 
 This extract may be purchased ready made, or pre- 
 pared by soaking crushed or ground malt in warm: 
 water, leaving it for an hour or two or longer, and then 
 pressing out the liquid. 
 
 I find that oatmeal-porridge when thus treated is 
 thinned by the conversion of the bulk of its insoluble 
 starch into soluble dextrin ; that boiled rice is similarly 
 thinned ; that a stiff jelly of arrowroot is at once rendered 
 watery, and its conversion into dextrin is demonstrated 
 by its altered action when a solution of iodine is added 
 to it. It no longer becomes suddenly of a deep blue 
 colour as when it was starch. 
 
 Sago and tapioca are similarly changed, but not so 
 completely as arrowroot. Thisis evidently because they 
 contain a little nitrogenous matter and cellulose, which, 
 when stirred, give a milkiness to the otherwise clear and 
 limpid solution of dextrin. 
 
 Pease-pudding when thus treated behaves very in- 
 structively. Instead of remaining as a fairly uniform 
 paste, it partially separates into paste and clear liquid, 
 the paste being the cellulose and vegetable casein, the 
 liquid a solution of the dextrin or converted starch. 
 
 Mashed turnips, carrots, potatoes, &c., behave simi- 
 larly, the general results showing that so far as starch is 
 concerned there is no practical difficulty in obtaining a 
 
 XxX 
 
306 THE -CHEMISTRY (OF COCK Ai 
 
 conversion of the starch into dextrin by means of a very 
 small quantity of maltose. 
 
 Hasty pudding made of boiled flour is similarly 
 altered. Generally speaking, the degree of visible altera- 
 tion is proportionate to the amount of starch, but the 
 more intimately it is mixed with the cellulose, the more 
 slowly the change occurs. 
 
 I have made malt-porridge by using malt flour 
 instead of oatmeal. I found it rather too sweet, but 
 on mixing about one part of malt flour with four to 
 eight parts of oatmeal, an excellent and easily digestible 
 porridge is obtained, and one which I strongly recom- 
 mend as a most valuable food for strong people and 
 invalids, children and adults. 
 
 Further details of these experiments would be tedious, 
 and are not necessary, as they display no chemical 
 changes that are new to science, and the practical results 
 may be briefly stated without such details, as follows. 
 
 I recommend, first, the production of malt flour by 
 erinding and sifting malted wheat, malted barley, or 
 malted oats, or all of these, and the retailing of this at 
 its fair value as a staple article of food. Every shop- 
 keeper who sells flour or meal of any kind should sell this. 
 
 Secondly, that this malted flour, or the extract 
 made from it as above described, be mixed with the 
 ordinary flour used in making pastry, biscuits, bread, &c.,! 
 and with all kinds of porridge, pastry, pea-soup, and 
 other farinaceous preparations, and that when these are 
 
 1 I have lately learned that a patent was secured some years ago for 
 ‘malt bread,’ and that such bread is obtainable from bakers who make it 
 under a license from the patentee. The ‘revised formula’ for 1884, which 
 I have just obtained, says: ‘Take of wheat meal 6 lbs., wheat flour 
 6 lbs., malt flour 6 0z., German yeast 2 oz., salt 2 oz., water sufficient. 
 
 Make into dough (without first melting the malt), prove well, and bake in 
 tins,’ 
 
MALTED FOOD. 307 
 
 cooked they should be slowly heated at first, in order 
 that the maltose may act upon the starch at its most 
 favourable temperature (140° to 150° Fahr.). 
 
 Thirdly, when practicable, such preparations as por- 
 ridge, pea-soup, pastry, &c., should be prepared by first 
 cooking them in the usual manner, then stirring the malt 
 meal or malt extract into them, and allowing the mixture 
 to remain for some time. This time may vary from a few 
 minutes to several hours or days—the longer the better. 
 I have proved by experiments on boiled rice, oatmeal- 
 porridge, pease-pudding, &c., that complete conversion 
 may thus be effected. _When the temperature of 140° 
 to 150° is carefully obtained, the work of conversion is 
 done in half an hour or less. At 212° it is arrested. At 
 temperatures below 140°, it proceeds with a slowness 
 varying with the depression of temperature. The most 
 rapid result is obtained by first cooking the food as 
 above, then reducing the temperature to 150°, and add- 
 ing the malt flour or malt extract, and maintaining the 
 temperature for a short time. The advantage of pre- 
 vious cooking is due to the preliminary breaking-up and 
 hydration of the starch granules. 
 
 Fourthly, besides the malt meal or malt flour, I recom- 
 mend the manufacture of what I may call ‘ pearl malt,’ 
 that is, malt treated as barley is treated in the manufac- 
 ture of pearl barley. This pearl malt may be largely 
 used in soups, puddings, and for other purposes evident 
 to the practical cook. It may be found preferable to the 
 malt flour for some of the above-named purposes, espe- 
 cially for making a purée like Rumford’s soup. 
 
 I strongly recommend such a soup to vegetarians— 
 2.é. the Rumford soup No, 1, already described, but with 
 the admixture of a little pearl malt with the pearl barley 
 
 (or malt flour failing the pearl malt). A small pro- 
 X 2 
 
308 THE CHEMISTRY OF (COCK ia 
 
 portion of malt (one-twentieth, for example) has a con- 
 siderable effect, but a larger amount is desirable. In all 
 cases this quantity may be regulated by experience and 
 according to whether a decided malt flavour is or is not 
 preferred. 
 
 I have not yet met with any malted maize com- 
 mercially prepared, but my experiments on a small 
 scale show that it is a very desirable product. 
 
 As regards the action of vegetable diastase on cellu- 
 lose, whether it is capable of breaking it up or effecting 
 its hydration and conversion into digestible sugar, I am 
 not yet able to speak positively, but the following facts 
 are promising. 
 
 I treated sago, tapioca, and rice with the maltose as 
 above, and found that at a temperature of 140° to 150° 
 all the starch disappears in about half an hour, as proved 
 by the iodine test. Still the liquid was not clear : flocculi 
 of cellulose, &c., were suspended in it. I kept this on 
 the top of a stove several days, where the temperature 
 of the liquid varied from 100° to 180° while the fire was 
 burning, but fell to that of the atmosphere during the 
 night. The quantity of the insoluble matter considerably 
 diminished, but it was not entirely removed. 
 
 This led me to make further experiments, still in 
 progress, on the ensilage of human food with the aid of 
 diastase. These experiments are on a small scale, and 
 are sufficiently satisfactory to justify more effective 
 trials on a larger scale. It is well known that ordinary 
 ensilage succeeds much better on alarge than on a small 
 scale, and I have no doubt that such will:+be the case 
 with my diastase ensilage of oatmeal, pease-pudding, 
 mashed roots, &c. 
 
 I am also treating such vegetable food material with 
 various acids for the same purpose. 
 
 : 
 ——— 
 
MALTED FOOD. 309 
 
 When by these or other means we convert vegetable 
 tissue into dextrin and sugar, as it is naturally converted 
 in the ripening pear, and as it has been artificially con- 
 verted in our laboratories, we shall extend our food 
 supplies in an incalculable degree. Swedes, turnips, 
 mangold-wurzels, &c., will become delicate diet for inva- 
 lids; horse beans, far more nutritious than beef; deli- 
 cate biscuits and fancy pastry, as well as ordinary bread, 
 will be produced from sawdust and wood shavings, plus 
 a little leguminous flour to supplement the nitrogenous 
 requirement. 
 
 This may even be done now. Longago I converted 
 an old pocket-handkerchief and part of an old shirt into 
 sugar, but not profitably as a commercial transaction. 
 Other chemists have done the like in their laboratories. 
 It is yet to be done in the kitchen. 
 
 I should add that the sugar referred to in all the 
 above is not cane sugar, but the sugar corresponding to 
 that in the grape and in honey. It is less sweet than 
 cane or beet sugar, but is a better food. 
 
 I have already spoken of the difficulty presented by 
 the opposite nature of the solvents demanded by the 
 casein and the cellulose in my experiments on the ensi- 
 lage of pease-pudding. The action of diastase indicates 
 a possible solution of this difficulty. Let us suppose 
 that a sufficient amount of potash is used to dissolve 
 the casein, its solution separated as described (pages 
 218-219), the insoluble fibrous remainder treated with 
 maltose or malt flour, and its action allowed to proceed 
 to fermentation and effecting the formation of acetic 
 acid. Will this acid, by means of ensilage, act upon 
 the cellulose as the acid of the unripe pear acts upon its 
 cellulose ? 
 
 This is another of the questions that I can only 
 
310 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 suggest, not having had time and opportunity to supply 
 experimental answer. 
 
 Do fruits contain diastase ? 
 
 Two kinds of food are described by Pavy (‘Treatise 
 on Food and Dietetics, page 227), in the preparation of 
 which the conversion of starch into dextrin appears to 
 be effected. As I have no acquaintance with these, 
 never met with them either in Scotland or Wales, I will 
 quote his description : 
 
 ‘ Sowans, seeds, or flummery, which constitutes a very 
 popular article of diet in Scotland and South Wales, is 
 made from the husks of the grain (oats). The husks, 
 with the starchy particles adhering to them, are separated 
 from the other parts of the grain and steeped in water 
 for one or two days, until the mass ferments and becomes 
 sourish. It is then skimmed and the liquid boiled down 
 to the consistence of gruel. In Wales this food is called 
 sucan. Budrum is prepared in the same manner, except 
 that the liquid is boiled down to a sufficient consistency 
 to form, when cold, a firm jelly. This resembles blanc- 
 mange, and constitutes a light, demulcent, and nutri- 
 tious article of food, which is well suited for the weak 
 stomach.’ 
 
 Here it is evident that solution takes place and a 
 gummy substance is formed ; this and the fermentation 
 and sourish taste all indicate the action of the diastase 
 of the seed converting the starch into dextrin and sugar, 
 the latter passing at once into acetic fermentation. 
 Having only just met with this passage, I am unable to 
 supply any experimental evidence, but suggest to any 
 of my readers who may be on the spot where either of 
 these preparations are made, the simple experiment of 
 adding a little diluted tincture of iodine to the sowans 
 or budrum, preferably to the latter. If any of the starch 
 
MALTED FOOD. 311 
 
 remains as starch, a deep blue tint will be immediately 
 struck ; if this is not the case it is a// converted. 
 
 I have just received a letter (while the proofs of this 
 sheet are in course of correction) from a retired barrister 
 in his seventy-third year, who, after a successful career 
 in India, ‘retired in 1870 to enjoy the otzum cum dig’ 
 Among other interesting particulars relating to animal 
 and vegetable diet, he tells me that ‘somehow I did 
 not, with a purely vegetable diet, excite saliva sufficient 
 for digestion, and being constitutionally a gouty subject, 
 I have suffered very much from gout until comparatively 
 lately (say the last eight months), when an idea came 
 into my head that by the use of potash I might get rid 
 of the calcareous deposit accompanying gout, and have 
 been taking 30 drops of liquor potassz in my tea with 
 very good effect. But within the last ten days, thanks 
 to your article in “Knowledge” of January 16, 1885, I 
 have, as it were by magic, become young again. I was 
 not aware that the diastase of malt had the same powers 
 as the salivary secretions. When I read your article, I 
 commenced the experiment on my morning food, namely, 
 oatmeal-porridge, of which for several years I have 
 cooked daily four ounces, of which I could never eat 
 more than half without feeling distended for an hour or 
 two, and then again feeling hungry and a craving for 
 more food. Since I followed your directions I have 
 been able to eat comfortably nearly the whole (five 
 ounces with the malt). I feel no distension for the time 
 nor craving afterwards; I am comfortably satisfied for 
 hours ; but what is more, the diastased porridge has had 
 the effect of removing the tendency to costiveness, which 
 was sore trouble, and it has rendered my joints supple, 
 and destroyed the tendency of my finger and toe-nails 
 to grow rapidly and brittle. All this seems to have 
 
312 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 changed, as if by magic. I, therefore, write to you as a 
 public benefactor, to thank you for your seasonable 
 hints.’ ! 
 
 I quote this letter (with the permission of the writer, 
 Mr. A. T. T. Petersen) the more willingly and con- 
 fidently from the fact that I have lately adopted as 
 a regular supper diet a porridge made of oatmeal, to 
 which about one-sixth or one-eighth of malt flour is 
 added. I find it in every respect advantageous, far 
 better than ordinary simple oatmeal-porridge. The fol- 
 lowing from Pavy, p. 229, indicates further the desir- 
 ability of assisting the salivary glands and pancreas in 
 digesting this otherwise excellent food. Speaking of 
 oatmeal-porridge, he says: ‘It is apt to disagree with 
 ‘some dyspeptics, having a tendency to produce acidity 
 and pyrosis, and cases have been noticed among those 
 who have been in the daily habit of consuming it, where 
 dyspeptic symptoms have subsided upon temporarily 
 abandoning its use.’ 
 
 My readers should try the following experiment. It 
 supplies a striking demonstration of the potency of the 
 diastase of malt. 
 
 Make a portion of oatmeal-porridge in the usual 
 manner, but unusually thick—a pudding rather than a 
 porridge ; then, while it is still hot (150° or thereabouts) 
 in the saucepan, add some ary malt flour (equal to one- 
 eighth to one-fourth of the oatmeal used). Stir this dry 
 flour into it and a curious transformation will take place. 
 The dry flour instead of thickening the mixture acts like 
 the addition of water, and converts the thick pudding 
 into a thin porridge. I find that this paradox greatly — 
 astonishes the practical cook. 
 
313 
 
 CHAPTER <XEX. 
 
 THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION. 
 
 I HAVE repeatedly spoken of the nitrogenous and 
 non-nitrogenous constituents of food, assuming that the 
 nitrogenous are the more nutritious, are the plastic or 
 flesh-building materials, and that the non-nitrogenous 
 materials cannot build up flesh or bone or nervous 
 matter, can only supply the material of fat, and by their 
 combustion maintain the animal heat. 
 
 -Indoing so I have been treading on loose ground—I 
 may say ona scientific quicksand. When I first taught 
 practical physiology to children in Edinburgh, many 
 years ago, this part of the subject was much easier to 
 teach than now. The simple and elegant theory of 
 Liebig was then generally accepted, and appeared quite 
 sound. 
 
 According to this, every muscular effort is performed 
 at the expense of muscular tissue ; every mental effort, 
 at the expense of cerebral tissue; and so on with all 
 the forces of life. This consumption or degradation of 
 tissue demands continual supplies of food for its re- 
 newal, and as all the working organs of the animal are 
 composed of nitrogenous tissue, it is clearly necessary, 
 according to this, that we should be supplied with nitro- 
 genous food to renew them, seeing that the nitrogen of 
 the air cannot be assimilated by animals at all. 
 
 But besides doing mechanical and mental work, the 
 
314 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 animal body is continually giving out heat, and its tem- 
 perature must be maintained. Food is also demanded 
 for this, and the non-nitrogenous food is the most readily 
 combustible, especially the hydro-carbons or fats ; the 
 carbo-hydrates—starch, sugar, &c.—also, but in lower 
 degree. These, then, were described as fuel food, or 
 heat-producers. 
 
 This view is strongly confirmed by a multitude of 
 familiar facts. Men, horses, and other animals cannot 
 do continuous hard work without asupply of nitrogenous 
 food ; the harder the work the more they require, and 
 the greater becomes their craving for it. On the other 
 hand, when such food is eaten in large quantities by idle 
 people, they become victims of inflammatory disease, or 
 their health otherwise suffers, according, probably, to 
 whether they assimilate or reject it. 
 
 Man is a cosmopolitan animal, and the variations 
 of his natural demand for food in different climates 
 affords very direct support to Liebig’s theory. Enor- 
 mous quantities of hydro-carbon, in the form of fat, are 
 consumed by the Esquimaux and by Europeans when 
 they winter in the Arctic regions. They cannot live 
 there without it. In hot climates sosme fuel food is re- 
 quired, and the milder form of carbo-hydrates is chosen, 
 and found to be most suitable ; rice, which is mainly 
 composed of starch, isan example. Sugar also. Offer 
 an Esquimaux a tallow candle and a rice or tapioca 
 pudding ; he will reject the latter, and eat the former 
 with great relish. 
 
 A multitude of other facts might be stated, all sup- 
 porting Liebig’s theory. 
 
 There is one that just occurs to me as I write, which 
 J will state, as it appears to have been hitherto unnoticed. 
 Some organs which act in such wise that we can see their 
 
THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION. 316 
 
 mode of action are visibly disintegrated and consumed 
 by their own activity, and may be seen to demand the 
 perpetual renewal described by Liebig. There are glands 
 of cellular structure which cast off their terminal cells 
 containing the fluid they secrete; do their work by 
 giving up their own structural substance at their peri- 
 pheral working surface. 
 
 Where, then,is the quicksand? Itis here. If mus- 
 cular and mental work were done at the expense of the 
 nitrogenous muscular and cerebral tissues, the quantity 
 of nitrogen excreted should vary with the amount of 
 work done. This was formerly stated to be the case 
 without hesitation, as the following passage from Car- 
 penter’s ‘Manual of Physiology’ (3rd edition, 1856, 
 page 256), shows: ‘Every action of the nervous and 
 muscular systems involves the death and decay of a 
 certain amount of the living tissue, as is indicated by 
 the appearance of the products of that decay in the 
 excretions.’ 
 
 More recent experiments by Fick and Wislicenus, 
 Parkes, Houghton, Ranke, Voit, Flint,and others are 
 said to contradict this by showing that the waste nitrogen 
 varies with the quantity of nitrogenous food that is eaten, 
 but not with the muscular work done. For the details of 
 these experiments I must refer the reader to standard 
 modern physiological treatises, as a full description of 
 them would carry me too far away from my immediate 
 subject. (Dr. Pavy’s ‘Treatise on Food’ has an intro- 
 ductory chapter on ‘The Dynamic Relations of Food, 
 in which this subject is clearly treated in sufficient detail 
 for popular reading.) 
 
 It is quite the fashion now to rely upon these 
 later experiments ; but for my own part, I am by no 
 means satisfied with them—and for this reason, that the 
 
316 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE ime 
 
 excretions from the skin and from the lungs were not - 
 examined. 
 
 It is just these which are greatly increased by exer- 
 cise, and their normal quantity is very large, especially 
 those from the skin, which are threefold, viz. the insensible 
 perspiration, which is transpired by the skin as invisible 
 vapour ; the sweat, which is liquid, and the solid particles 
 of exuded cuticle. 
 
 Lavoisier and Seguin long ago made very laborious 
 experiments upon themselves in order to determine the 
 amount of the insensible perspiration. Seguin enclosed 
 himself ina bag of glazed taffeta, which was tied over 
 him with no other opening than a hole corresponding to 
 his mouth ; the edges of this hole were glued to his lips 
 with a mixture of turpentine and pitch. He carefully 
 weighed himself and the bag before and after his enclo- 
 sure therein. His own loss of weight being partly from 
 the lungs and partly from the skin, the amount gained 
 by the bag represented the quantity of the latter ; the 
 difference between this and the loss of his own weight 
 gave the amount exhaled from the lungs. 
 
 He thus found that the largest quantity of zzsenszble 
 exhalation from the lungs and skin together amounted 
 to 34 oz. per hour,.or at the rate of 54 lbs.perday. The 
 smallest quantity was I lb. 14 oz., and the mean was 
 3 lbs. 11 oz. Three-fourths of this was cutaneous. 
 
 These figures only show the quantity of insensible 
 perspiration during repose. Valentin found that his 
 hourly loss by cutaneous exhalation while sitting 
 amounted to 32°8 grammes, or rather less than 1+ oz. 
 On taking exercise, with an empty stomach, in the sun, 
 the hourly loss increased to 89°3 grammes, or nearly 
 three times as much. After a meal followed by violent 
 exercise, with the temperature of the air at 72° F,, it 
 
Peet VY STOLOGY OF NUTRITION. 317 
 
 amounted to 132°7 grammes, or nearly 44 times as much 
 as during repose. A robust man, taking violent exercise 
 in hot weather, may give off as much as 5 lbs. in an 
 hour. 
 
 The third excretion from the skin, the epithelial or 
 superficial scales of the epidermis, is small in weight, 
 but it is solid, and of similar composition to gelatin. 
 It should be understood that this increases largely with 
 exercise. The practice of sponging and‘ rubbing down’ 
 of athletes removes the excess; but I am not aware of 
 any attempt that has been made to determine accurately 
 the quantity thus removed. 
 
 Does the skin excrete nitrogenous matter that may 
 be, like urea, a product of the degradation or destruction 
 of muscular tissue? 
 
 The following passage from Lehmann’s‘ Physiological 
 Chemistry ’ (vol. ii. p. 389), shows that the skin throws out 
 plenty of nitrogen obtained from somewhere: ‘It has 
 been shown by the experiments of Milly, Jurine, Ingen- 
 houss, Spallanzani, Abernethy, Barruel, and Collard di 
 Martigny, that gases, and especially carbonic acid and 
 nitrogen, are likewise exhaled with the liquid secretion of 
 the sudiparious glands. According to the last-named 
 experimentalist the ratio between these two gases is very 
 variable ; thus, in the gas developed after vegetable food 
 there is a preponderance of carbonic acid, and, after 
 animal food, there is an excess of nitrogen. Abernethy 
 found that on an average the collective gas contained 
 rather more than two-thirds of carbonic acid and rather 
 less than one-third of nitrogen.’ Butit appears that less 
 gas is exhaled when there is much liquid perspiration. 
 
 Lehmann’s summary of the experiments of Aber- 
 nethy, Brunner, and Valentin (vol. ii. p. 391), gives the 
 amount of hourly exudation, under ordinary circum- 
 
318 THE CHEMISTRY OF “COCK. 
 
 stances, as 50°71 grammes of water, 0'25 of a gramme of 
 carbon, and 0'92 of agramme of nitrogen. This amounts 
 to 214 grammes of nitrogen per day in the zzsenszble 
 perspiration ; three-quarters of an ounce avoirdupois, 
 or as much nitrogen as is contained in one pound and a 
 half of natural living muscle. 
 
 That the liquid perspiration contains compounds of 
 nitrogen, and just such compounds as would result from 
 the degradation of nitrogenous tissue, is unquestion- 
 able. As Lehmann says (vol. ii. p. 389), ‘ the sweat very 
 easily decomposes, and gives rise to the secondary for- 
 mation of ammonia.’ Simon and Berzelius found salts 
 of ammonia in the sweat : that theammonia is combined 
 both with hydrochloric acid and with organic acids: 
 that it probably exists as carbonate of ammonia in 
 alkaline sweat. 
 
 The existence of urea in sweat appears to be 
 uncertain ; some chemists assert its presence, others 
 deny it. Favre and Schottin, for example, who have 
 both studied the subject very carefully, are at direct 
 variance. I suspect that both are right, as its presence 
 or absence is variable, and appears to depend on the 
 condition of the subject of the experiment. 
 
 Favre describes a special nitrogenous acid which he 
 discovered in sweat, and names it £ydrotic or sudoric acid. 
 Its composition corresponds, according to his analysis, 
 to the formula‘@, HNO, 
 
 I have summarised these facts, as they show clearly 
 enough that conclusions based on an examination of the 
 quantity of nitrogen excreted by the kidneys alone (and 
 such is the sole basis of the modern theories), are of little 
 or no value in determining whether or not muscular work 
 is accompanied with degradation of muscular tissue. 
 The well-known fact that the total quantity of excretory 
 
per TY SIOLOGY: OF NUTRITION, 319 
 
 work done by the skin increases with muscular work, 
 while that from the kidneys rather diminishes, indicates 
 in the plainest possible manner that an examination of 
 the skin secretion should be primary in connection with 
 this question. To entirely neglect this in such a re- 
 search is a scientific parallel to the histrionic feat of 
 performing the tragedy of ‘Hamlet’ with the Prince of 
 Denmark omitted. 
 
 Seeing that it has been entirely neglected, I am 
 justified in expressing, very plainly and positively, my 
 opinion of the worthlessness of all the modern research 
 upon which the alleged refutation of Liebig’s theory of 
 the destruction and renewal of living tissue in the per- 
 formance of vital work is based, and my rejection of the 
 modern alternative hypothesis concerning the manner in 
 which food supplies the material demanded for muscular 
 and mental work. 
 
 I may be accused of rashness and presumption in 
 thus attempting to stem the overwhelming current of 
 modern scientific progress. Such, however, is not the 
 case. It is modern scientific fashzon, rather than scientific 
 progress, that I oppose. We have too much of this 
 millinery spirit in the scientific world just now; too 
 much eagerness to run after ‘the last thing out,’ and 
 assume, with undue readiness, that the ‘ latest researches ’ 
 are, of course, the best—especially where fashionable 
 physicians are concerned. 
 
 Having summarised Liebig’s theory of the source of 
 vital power, and its supposed refutation by modern ex- 
 periments, I will now endeavour to state the alternative 
 modern hypothesis, though not without difficulty, nor 
 with satisfactory result, seeing that the recent theorists 
 are vague and self-contradictory. All agree that vital 
 power or liberated force is obtained at the expense of 
 
320 LHE CHEMISTRY OF COOKE] 
 
 some kind of chemical action of a destructive or oxidis- 
 ing character, and is, therefore, theoretically analogous 
 to the source of power in a steam-engine; but when they 
 come to the practical question of the demand for working 
 fuel or food, they abandon this analogy. 
 
 Pavy says (‘ Treatise on Food and Dietetics, page 6) : 
 ‘In the liberation of actual force, a complete analogy 
 may be traced between the animal system and a steam- 
 engine. Both are media for the conversion of latent into 
 actual force. Inthe animal system, combustible material 
 is supplied under the form of the various kinds of food, 
 and oxygen is taken in for the process of respiration. 
 From the chemical energy due to the combination of 
 these, force is liberated in an active state; and, besides 
 manifesting itself as heat, and in other ways peculiar to 
 the animal system, is capable of performing mechanical 
 work.’ In another place (page 59 of same work), after 
 describing Liebig’s view, Dr. Pavy says: ‘ The facts which 
 have been already adduced’ (those above described on the 
 nitrogen eliminated by the kidneys), ‘suffice to refute this 
 doctrine. Indeed, it may be considered as abundantly 
 proved that food does not require to become organised 
 tissue before it can be rendered available for force- 
 production.’ On page 81 he says: ‘While nitrogenous 
 matter may be. regarded as forming the essential basis 
 of structures possessing active or living properties, zhe 
 non-niirogenous principles may be looked upon as supplying 
 the source of power. ‘The one may be spoken of as hold- 
 ing the position of the instrument of action, while the 
 other supplies the motive power. Nitrogenous alimen- 
 tary matter may, it is true, by oxidation contribute to 
 the generation of the moving force, but, as has been ex- 
 plained, in fulfilling this office there is evidence before us 
 to show that it is split up into two distinct portions, one 
 
Beer a VolOLOGY OF NUTRITION. 321 
 
 containing the nuztrogen, which. rs eliminated as useless,and 
 a residuary non-nitrogenous portion which is retained and 
 utilised in force-production.’ 
 
 The italics are mine, for reasons presently to be ex- 
 plained. Pavy’s work contains repetitions and further 
 illustrations of this attribution of the origin of force to 
 the non-nitrogenous elements of food. 
 
 Then we have a statement of the experiments of 
 Joule on the mechanical equivalent of heat, connected 
 with experiments of Frankland with the apparatus that 
 is used for determining the calorific value of coal, &c.— 
 viz. a little tubular furnace charged with a mixture of 
 the combustible to be tested, and chlorate of potash. 
 This being placed ina tube, open below, and thrust 
 under water, is fired, and gives out all its heat to the 
 surrounding liquid, the rise of temperature of which 
 measures the calorific value of the substance (see fig. 7, 
 page 21, ‘Simple Treatise on Heat’). 
 
 From this result is calculated the mechanical work 
 obtainable from a given quantity of different food mate- 
 rials. That from a gramme is given as follows : 
 
 Beef fat . : ; ‘ : - 27,778, Units. of work, 
 Starch (arrowroot) . : ; YE T,053 | or number of 
 Lump sugar . é ‘ : . 10,254( pounds lifted 
 Grape sugar , ‘ ; : . 10,038 one foot. 
 
 In Dr. Edward Smith’s treatise on ‘Food, the foot- 
 pound equivalent of each kind of food isspecifically stated 
 in such a manner as to lead the student to conclude 
 that this represents its actual working efficiency as food. 
 Other modern writers represent it in like manner. 
 
 Here, then, comes the bearing of these theories on my 
 subject. <A practical dietary or menu is demanded, say, 
 for navvies or for athletes in full work; another for 
 sedentary people doing little work of any kind. 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE CHEMISTRY: OF COCK 
 
 According to the new theory, the best possible food 
 for the first class is fat, butter being superior to lean 
 beef in the proportion of 14,421 to 2,829 (Smith), and 
 beef fat having nearly eight times the value of lean 
 beef. Ten grains of rice give 7,454 foot-pounds of work- 
 ing-power, while the same quantity of lean beef gives 
 only 2,829 ; according to which 1 lb. of rice should supply 
 as much support to hard workers as 24 lbs. of beef-steak. 
 None of the modern theorists dare to be consistent when 
 dealing with such direct practical applications. 
 
 I might quote a multitude of other palpable incon- 
 sistencies of the theory, which is so slippery that it 
 cannot be firmly grasped. Thus, Dr. Pavy (page 403), 
 immediately after describing bacon fat as ‘ the most effi- 
 cient kind of force-producing material, and stating that 
 ‘the xon-nitrogenous alimentary principles appear to 
 possess a higher dietetic value than the zztrogenous, tells 
 us that ‘the performance of work may be looked upon 
 as necessitating a proportionate supply of uttrogenous 
 alimentary matter, and his reason for this admission 
 being that such nitrogenous material is required for the 
 nutrition of the muscles themselves. 
 
 A pretty tissue of inconsistencies is thus supplied ! 
 Non-nitrogenous food is the best force- producer—it cor- 
 responds to the fuel of the steam-engine ; the nitrogenous 
 is necessary only to repair the machine. Nevertheless, 
 when force-production is specially demanded, the food 
 required is not the force-producer, but the special builder 
 of muscles, the which muscles, according to theory, are 
 not used up and renewed in doing the work. 
 
 It must be remembered that the whole of this modern 
 theoretical fabric is built upon the experiments which 
 are supposed to show that there is no more elimination 
 of nitrogenous matter during hard work than during 
 
THE PHYSIOLOGY OF NUTRITION. 323 
 
 rest. Yet we are told that ‘the performance of work 
 may be looked upon as necessitating a proportionate 
 supply of nitrogenous alimentary matter,’ and that such 
 material ‘is split up into two distinct portions, one con- 
 taining the nitrogen, which is eliminated as useless.’ 
 This thesis is proved by experiments showing (as 
 asserted) that such elimination is not so proportioned. 
 
 In short, the modern theory presents us with the 
 following pretty paradox. The consumption of nitro-. 
 genous food is proportionate to work done. . The elimi- 
 nation of nitrogen is otf proportionate to work done. 
 The elimination of nitrogen zs proportionate to the 
 consumption of nitrogenous food. 
 
 I have tried hard to obtain a rational physiological 
 view of the modern theory. When its advocates compare 
 our food to the fuel of an engine, and maintain that its 
 combustion azrectly supplies the moving power, what do 
 they mean? 
 
 They cannot suppose that the food is thus oxidised 
 as food, yet such is implied. The work cannot be done 
 in the stomach, nor in the intestinal canal, nor in the 
 mesenteric glands, nor in their outlet, the thoracic duct. 
 After leaving this, the food becomes organised living 
 material, the blood being such, The question, therefore, 
 as between the new theory and that of Liebig, must be 
 whether work is effected by the combustion of the blood 
 itself or by the degradation of the working tissues, which 
 are fed and renewed by the blood. Although this is so 
 obviously the only rational physiological question, I 
 have not found it thus stated. 
 
 Such being the case, the supposed analogy to the 
 steam-engine breaks down altogether; the food is 
 certainly assimilated, is converted into the living mate- 
 rial of the animal itself before it does any work, and 
 
324 THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY. 
 
 therefore it must be the wear and tear of the machine. 
 itself which supplies the working power, and not that of 
 the food as mere fuel material shovelled di into the 
 animal furnace. 
 
 I thus agree with Playfair, who says that the modern 
 theory involves a ‘false analogy of the animal body 
 to a steam-engine, and that ‘incessant transformation 
 of the acting parts of the animal machine forms the 
 condition for its action, while in the case of the steam- 
 engine it is the transformation of fuel external to the 
 machine which causes it to move.’ Pavy says that ‘ Dr, 
 Playfair, in these utterances, must be regarded as writing 
 behind the time.’ He may be behind as regards the 
 fashion, but I think he is in advance as regards the 
 truth. 
 
 My readers, therefore, need not be ashamed of cling- 
 ing to the old-fashioned belief that their own bodies 
 are alive throughout, and perform all the operations of 
 working, feeling, thinking, &c., by virtue of their own 
 inherent self-contained vitality, and that in doing this 
 they consume their own substance, which has to be per- 
 petually replaced by new material, its quality depending 
 upon the manner of working and the matter and manner 
 of replacement. 
 
 The course of our own evolution thus depends upon 
 ourselves ; we may, according to our own daily conduct, 
 be building up a better body and a better mind, or one 
 that shall be worse than the fair promise of the original 
 germ. Therefore the philosophy of the preparation of 
 the material of which the body and brain are built up 
 and renewed must be worthy of careful study. This 
 philosophy is ‘THE CHEMISTRY OF COOKERY,’ 
 
 ~ 
 
INDEX, 
 
 ACI 
 
 AcIDs, mineral and vegetable, 224 
 Aérated bread, 206 
 Albumen, 19 
 coagulation of, 20 
 of flesh, 24 
 loss of in boiling fish and meat, 
 
 24 
 Allotropism, 88 
 Alum in bread, 203 
 Animal diastase, 186 
 Apple fritters, 101 
 Argol, 273 
 Arrowroot, 179 
 Arsenic eating, 256 
 
 BAIN-MARIE, 22, 119 
 Baked meat, prejudice against, 64 
 Baking versus roasting of meat, 65 
 Barley sugar, 88 
 Basting, 57 
 Bavarian beggars and Count Rum- 
 ford, 229 
 Birds’-nests, edible, 35 
 Blood-fibrin, 43 
 ‘Boiled meat’ is not boiled, 14 
 Boiling of fat, 84 
 of water, 8 
 Bone-soup Commission of French 
 Academy, 36 
 Borized meat, 170 
 milk, 171 
 Bosch vw. butter, 167 
 v. butterine, 144 
 Boussingault’s experiments on bread, 
 207 
 Bread, 197 
 British gum, 182 
 Browning of roasted meat, 78 
 rationale of, 87 
 Budrum, 310 
 Butter, 163 
 and infection, 166 
 
 DIA 
 
 CALCAREOUS WATER, IO 
 Cancer and flesh eating, 301 
 Caramel, 87-89 
 a disinfectant, 92 
 Carnivorous, a sheep, 301 
 Casein, 127 
 changes of, 128 
 vegetable, 211 
 Cayenne pepper, 260 
 Cellular tissue, 174, 180 
 Cheese, cookery of, 136 
 digestibility of, 135 
 in soup, 149 
 nutritive value of, 131 
 phosphates in, 133 
 porridge, 151 
 pudding, 136 
 solubility of, 143 
 Chemical analysis and nutritive 
 value of food, 6 
 Chinese and cooked water, 13 
 Chitin, 33 
 Chondrin, 33 
 Cocoa, 261 
 ‘ Coffee as in France,’ 96 
 Colloids and crystalloids, 115 
 Composition of albumen, gelatin, 
 and fibrin, 45 
 kreatine and kreatinine, 46 
 Condensed milk, 129 
 Condiments, 259 
 Convection in roasting, 49 
 Cooked water, 10 
 Cream, 162 
 Crust of bread, 91, 136, 200 
 Curd of milk, 127 
 
 DEXTRIN, 182, 185 
 in bread, 200 
 Diastase, 184, 303 
 Diastased porridge, 305, 306, 311, 
 252 
 
326 INDEX. 
 
 DIF i 
 
 Difference between vegetable and 
 animal food, 177, 297 
 
 Diffusion of liquids, 112 
 
 Digestion of starch, 186 
 
 Dinner of a French or Swiss 
 peasant, 126 
 
 Diosmosis, 114 
 
 Disinfection of water by boiling, 12 
 
 by toast, 92 
 
 Dissociation of flavours, 49 
 
 Dolby’s extractor, 120 
 
 Domestic chops and steaks, 52 
 
 Dough, 197 
 
 Dripping, 159 
 
 Drunkenness and cookery, 61 
 
 ECONOMICAL FRYING, 98 
 Effects of diastased porridge, 311 
 Eggs, cookery of, 22 
 nutritive value of, 19 
 of feathered and featherless 
 young birds, 20 
 Endosmosis and exosmosis, 114 
 English stewing, 124 
 Ensilage of human food, 214 
 by means of diastase, 308 
 Excretion of nitrogen from the skin, 
 316 
 Expansion of well-grilled meat, 53 
 Experiment with Rumford’s roaster, 
 74 
 Explosion of water, 86 
 Extract of meat, 117 
 
 FAT, 156 
 action of heat on, 84, 158 
 bath for joints, 57 
 for frying, IOI 
 Fermentation of bread, 198 
 Ferments, 184 
 Fibrin, 43 
 Fish, boiling of, 24, 27 
 cooked in paper, 60 
 roasting, 58 
 with cheese, 153 
 Flames, different kinds of, and 
 grilling, 51 
 Flavouring power of the juices of 
 meat, 26 
 
 LEG 
 
 Flesh feeding, a temporary bar- 
 barism, 7 
 Flummery, 310 
 Fondu, 136 
 Forces of nature co-operating with 
 man, 2 
 Frozen meat, 94, 168 
 Fruit jelly, 225 
 Frying, 84 
 kettle, 98 
 theory of, 97 
 
 Fuel wasted in boiling, 15 
 
 GASTRIC JUICE, modification of, 44 
 Gelatin, fibrin, and the juices of 
 meat, 32 
 
 hydration of, 41 
 
 solubility of, 32 
 Gluten, 194 
 
 fibrin and gluten casein, 195 
 Glycerine, 157 
 Green-pea clear soup, 219 
 Grilling of chops and steaks, 52 
 Gum arabic, 183 
 
 HASTY PUDDING AND CHEESE, 152 
 Hot rolls from stale bread, 208 
 Hydration of gelatin, 41 
 
 of starch, 181 
 
 INCRUSTATION OF BOILERS, ket- 
 tiles, ‘Cs, 11 
 Isinglass, 36, 41 
 Italian cookery, go 
 of cheese, 149 
 
 JOHNSTON ON TEA AND COFFEE, 
 251 
 Juices of meat, 25, 40, 45 
 
 KITCHEN A CHEMICAL LABORA- 
 TORY, the, 4 
 
 Kitchener-ovens and roasters, 7 
 
 Kreatine and kreatinine, 45 
 
 LARD, 159 
 
 dissociation of, 85 
 Leaven, 206 
 Leg of mutton, how to boil, 26 
 
 - 
 
INDEX. 327 
 
 LEG 
 Legumin, 212 
 Lehmann on coffee, 251 
 *‘ Liaison au roux,’ 90 
 Liebig on gelatin, 36 
 
 on tea and coffee, 251 
 
 Liebig’s extract of meat, 25, 37 
 Lignin, 174 
 Lime in bread, 205 
 Lobster suppers, 33 
 Locusts as food, 34 
 
 MACERATION, I1I2 
 Magnesia in bread, 265 
 Malt, action on various foods, 305 
 directions for using, 306, 312 
 Malted food, 303 
 Man, the cooking animal, 295 
 Man’s work on earth, I 
 Marie Antoinette’s pie-crust, 176 
 Milk, a carrier of infection, 164 
 composition of, 162 
 cooking of, 163 
 dietetic value of, 161 
 for herbivora, carnivora, and 
 man, 296 
 _supply to London, 163 
 Muscle fibrin, 43 
 
 NEW AND STALE BREAD, 207 
 Nitrogenous principles of plants and 
 animals compared, 195 
 
 Norwegian cooking apparatus, 24, . 
 
 30 
 Nutrition, fashionable theory of, 315 
 inconsistencies of fashionable 
 theory of, 319 
 Liebig’s theory of, 313 
 Playfair on the physiology of, 
 
 324 
 the physiology of, 313 
 Nutritive value of food as affected 
 by cookery, 6 
 of gelatin, 36 
 
 CENANTHIC ETHER, 270 
 Oils for frying, 107 
 volatile and fixed, 84 
 Old hens, how to roast, 125, 126 
 
 RUM 
 
 Oleomargarine, 146 
 Oven, construction of, 80 
 Oysters and invalids, 180 
 
 PARMESAN CHEESE, I5I, 220 
 Pasteuring of wine, 269 
 Peasants’ food in Italy and France, 
 61, 126 
 Pease-pudding, 214-218 
 Pectin, 225 
 Penny dinners, 244 
 Phosphates in milk and cheese, 133 
 Phosphorus in bones and BE ain, 134 
 Popped corn, 210 
 Porridge wv. flesh, 299 
 Potage and stewed meat, 116 
 value of, 219 
 Potash bitartrate, solubility of, 272 
 food, 221 
 in cheese cookery, 141 
 in potatoes, 190 
 scurvy, gout, &c., 142 
 Potatoes in bread, 302 
 a curse of Ireland, 193 
 and cheese porridge, 152 
 and scurvy, 190 
 cookery of, 189 
 nutritive value of, 192 
 Purification of fat, IOI 
 
 RADIATION AND CONVECTION IN 
 ROASTING, 49 
 in grilling, 47 
 Rahat Lakoum, 225 
 Rationale of roasting, 48 
 Reaction from tea, 257 
 Rennet, 129 
 Rice and cheese, 153 
 ‘ Risotto a la Milanese,’ 150 
 Roasting an ox, 56 
 and grilling, 47 
 before open fire, evils of, 60 
 large joints, 55 
 small joints, 53 
 Rumford, Count, of, 5 
 on boiling meat, 16 
 on military rations, 241 
 on the pleasure of eating, 238 
 Rumford’s cookery, 227 
 
328 INDEX. 
 
 RUM 
 
 Rumford’s experiment on low tem- 
 perature roasting, 29 
 roaster, 63, 70 
 roasting oven, 76 
 soup, 231 
 - soup compared with flesh food, 
 298 
 
 SAGo, 189 
 Saliva and diastase, 304 
 Salivary diastase, 186 
 Salmon cooking in Norway, 28 
 Samp, 240 
 Sauer-kraut, 216 
 Sawdust as food, 175 
 Science in the kitchen, 4 . 
 Seeds as food, 194 
 Sheep, a carnivorous and cannibal, 
 
 301 
 Sherbet, 225 
 Shrimps, fried, 34 
 Simmering and boiling, 14 
 Small joints and their cookery, 53 
 Smith, Dr., on tea, 254 
 Snail soup, 35 
 Soluble and insoluble casein, 130 
 Solution of vegetable casein, 217 
 South Kensington food exhibits, 211 
 Sowans, 310 
 Specific sapidity of food, 239 
 Spinning of sugar, 89 
 Starch, 178, 181 
 Stearic acid, 157 
 Stewing, III 
 
 and albumen, I19 
 
 Stirabout and cheese, 153 
 Sulphate of copper in bread, 295 
 Super-heaters, cost of, 75 
 Syntonin, 43 
 
 TAPIOCA, 188 
 Tea and coffee, Rumford’s substi- 
 tute for, 245 
 physiological action of, 246 
 Technical and technological educa- 
 tion, 3 
 
 YOL 
 
 Temperature for stewing, 118 
 of vegetable cookery, 177 
 Tenderness, true and false, 121 
 Testing the temperature of fat bath, 
 100 
 Thermometers for the kitchen, 79 
 for fath bath, 105 
 Thomson, Sir Henry, on roasting 
 of fish, 58 
 Tinned meat, I2I 
 Toast and water, 92 
 Tripe and cheese, 154 
 
 UNFERMENTED BREAD, 200 
 
 VAPOURS OF ROASTING MEAT, 78 
 Vegetable casein, 211 
 diet, economy of, 301 
 ‘fibrin, casein and gluten, 195 
 food and mixed diet compared, 
 297 
 juices, 211 
 -marrow au gratin, 155 
 tissue, 173 
 Vegetables, the cookery of, 173 
 Vegetarian question, the 294 
 
 WARREN’S COOKING-POT, 81 
 Waste of fuel in boiling, 15 
 Water-bath cookery, 119 
 Water in fish, 86 
 Whole-meal bread, 6, 204 
 Wine, artificial bouquet of, 291 
 
 artificial colour of, 288 
 
 bouquet of, 288 
 
 cookery of, 265 
 
 cost of, 265-292 
 
 drying of, 280 
 
 natural colour of, 288 
 
 Pasteuring of, 269 
 
 plastering of, 277 
 
 sickness of, 271 
 
 sulphuric acid.in, 276 
 
 YOLK OF EGG, its coagulation, 23 
 
 Spottiswoode & Co. Printers, New-street Square, London. 
 
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