Culinary Jottings for Madras

In 1984, when I was just about to leave Lahore, I went to a used book-seller and bought several old books -- District Gazetteers for the places I had visited; and Wyvern's Indian Cookery Book, being a new and revised edition of Culinary Jottings for Madras.

The title is somewhat misleading: the book's purpose is to help British housewives to serve British meals in India. It was originally published in 1878. I have the seventh, 'substantially revised' edition, published in 1904. I now present

Chapter I. The Cook.

If you want to put nice little dinners upon your table, you must not only be prepared to take a certain amount of trouble, but you must make a friend of your cook. Unless amicable relations exist between and him and his mistress or master, the work will never be carried out satisfactorily. There will be a thousand and one annoying failures, your mind will never know what repose means, and, in the end, -- utterly wearied with the daily struggle against petty larceny, carelessness, ignorance, stupidity, and an apparently wayward desire to thwart your desires to the utmost,-- you will resign the control to your butler, and submit to whatever kind of dinner he may be pleased to provide for you.

I do not allude to people who may possess a butler capable of composing, with very little aid, a fairly good menu, and able to direct the cook in regard to its preparation. There are, I know, a few men of that kind to be found but they are rare to meet, and even the cleverest of them requires a little diplomatic supervision, or he will drift into a groove of dinners, and tire you with repetitions. It need scarcely be said that the accounts of a competent maitre d'hotel are often questionable, but perhaps, in consideration of the trouble saved, this is a point that need not be too closely scrutinised.

Those who are not gifted with patience, those who are not physically strong, those who have important calls upon their time away from home, and, of course, those who do not feel capable of directing their cooks, cannot do better than entrust the management of their kitchens to their head servants; but all who are equal to the task, should take the helm in their own hands, remembering the old saying, -- "if you want a thing well done, do it yourself."

Of all failings inimical to the successful direction of a native servant, a hasty temper is the most fatal. The moment you betray irritation and hastiness in your manner towards Ramasamy, he ceases to follow you. His attention becomes distracted by apprehension with reference to his personal safety, and not in the consideration of the plat you may be endeavouring to discuss with him.

There are two ways of imparting the details of menu to your cook: -- one through your butler, the other by conversation with the man himself. For many reasons I advocate the latter plan. Some cooks do not care for the butler's interference, and in many establishments, the cook and butler do not pull. Butlers again, are prone to conceit, and often pretend to understand what you want done, rather than confess their ignorance.

So it is better to get the cook alone, and talk to him very quietly in his own way of speaking. To encourage him by a little praise, and if obliged to speak retrospectively of a failure, to strive to do so with a smile. You will soon get round Ramasamy when he finds that you are able to keep your temper with him: he then gains confidence in you and learns rapidly. There can be no doubt that in him there are materials out of which it is quite possible to form a good cook. The work comes to him, as it were, of its own accord. Nevertheless it is necessary to watch for his besetting sins, and correct them whenever they occur.

Two of the chief of these are:--
(a) To guess at quantities and weights without measuring the one, or weighing the other.
(b) To proceed with the cooking of a meal without any reference to the clock, to finish things far too soon, and then to keep them warm till wanted.

We should remember too that the fact of a dish having been successfully presented to us once, by no means insures that it will appear so again unless the details of its composition are gone through again carefully.

In the use of green herbs all native cooks require watching, for they are very fond of mint, and what they call in Madras 'country parsley' which is really chervil mint, ought not to be employed as a flavouring agent save with green peas, sometimes with new potatoes, in certain wine 'cups,' and in bona fide mint sauce, and chervil is of course no equivalent of parsley though useful in moderation in certain sauces. Marjoram, rosemary, fennel, etc. grow well in India and come in usefully for stuffings, etc....

Natives dearly love the spice box, and they all reverence "Worcester Sauce." Now, I consider the latter too powerful an element by far for indiscriminate use in the kitchen, especially so in India where our cooks are inclined to over-flavour everything. If in the house at all, the proper place for this sauce is the cruet-stand where it can be seized in an emergency to drown mistakes, and assist us in swallowing food that we might otherwise decline.

When spice is necessary the amount should be mentioned exactly; the cook ought never to be allowed discretional use of it.

Unless distinct directions are given to him, Ramasamy is accustomed to annex all trimmings of meat, giblets, etc. for his personal use... In many of my receipts advice will be found as to the treatment of the scraps, and each bad habit of the cookroom will be pointed out as it occurs to me.

Note: I learned from a posting on RootsWeb.com that the full title of the original edition was Culinary Jottings - A Treatise in Thirty Chapters on Reformed Cookery For Anglo-Indian Exiles, Based Upon Modern English and Continental Principles with Thirty Menus for Little Dinners Worked Out in Detail, and An Essay on Our Kitchens in India" By "Wyvern," Author of "Sweet Dishes," "Furlough Reminiscences."