Punch: Punch (33.1857)

July 11, 1857.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

17

" bother the nasty fliks i -

R EVI £ W.

The Director s Own Cookery Book: containing plain and practical direc-
tions in the Art of Cookery, as applied especially to Joint Stock
Companies' Accounts. London: Swindle & Scamp, Seven Dials.

To traders of exhausted credit, and gentlemen who Lave more time
than money on their hands, this would doubtless prove a highly service-
able work, were it not for the prevention we shall presently allude to.
In addition to containing many hundreds of recipes for the culinary
treatment of the cash-books of a company, it is furnished with a
copious preliminary treatise on the rise and progress of the Art of
Dishing, as applied both to shareholders and to the public generally;
together with full details of the most approved and recent methods
which have been employed in dressing up and garnishing Reports. It
contains also much useful information on points connected with the
general management of the cuisine, giving some most serviceable hints
to the chefs of the establishment as to how, by the judicious employ-
ment of catspaws, they may contrive to get through a great amount of
dirty work, and yet succeed in coming out of it with tolerably clean
lands, and leaving very little stain upon their private reputation.

Perhaps, however, we shall best acquaint our readers with the
character of the work by citing a few passages by way of sample of its
merits :—■

" To dish a Shareholder.—In order to do this, you must first catch your Share-
holder : an operation which requires a somewhat skilful handling, although it is by
no means attended with much difficulty. It may be generally effected by throwing
out some catchlines by way of a prospectus, and the bait of a good dividend is pretty
sure to prove a taking one As soon as you have caught your Shareholder, the
process of dishing him becomes extremely simple. The best thing for the purpose
is what in chemistry is known as an evaporating dish, by which, as soon as you
have done your Shareholder quite brown, you can evaporate youiself, and leave i>im
nicely dished."

" To Cook a Dividend.—When your profits have been less than usual, declare a
larger dividend, and cook it out of capital. Garnish it in your Report with flum-
mery and soft sawder : and of course take care, first of all, to help yourself. As the
pious Cameron was wont to quote, Heaven will help him who helps himself."

" Recipe for making Royal British Stew.—The stew in this case does not differ much
from Irish stew : such as was invented by the chefs of the Tipperary Bank. With
the way of making it every one who reads the newspapers, and even those who
(like Sir Richard Bethell) don't, must have long ago become so very familiar that
it would be superfluous to publish the. recipe. It is thought, however, there will
soon be some additions to the stew, and that some of the head cooks may find them-
selves in it. There is little doubt at any rate that they will be well roasted when
they are put before the fire of the Attorney-Genekai.'s address."

" Bubble and Squeak.—This is too-well known a dish to need much explanation.
All 5*ou have to do is to make the Bubble Company, and leave the Shareholders
thereof to make the squeak. This they will be sure to do when they are done to

rags, or in less culinary language, when they find they have been done by you and
brought thereby to rags and ruin."

It will be observed from these few extracts that the work under
reviewal is only suited to those chefs who are accustomed not to mince
matters, and whose cookery is what one might expect from a thieves'
kitchen. This being the case, we should have certainly seen reason
that the book should be suppressed, but that we think few will be
inclined to take a leaf from it, now that all such cookery, it is intended,
shall be dealt with criminal offence.

The book we see is dedicated " with the profoundest respect" to
Mil. Innes Cameron, to whom the author, in his preface, states that
he is indebted for considerable assistance in the compilation of the
work. This we can in no way feel surprise to learn, for we have had
sufficient proof of Mr. Cameron's ability, displayed in nearly all the
branches of account-cooking, to regard him as being a top-SoYER in
the art.

UNION AMONG BIGOTS.

(To the Mawworms of England).

My bear Fanatics,

The saying that two of a trade can never agree, has too long
been illustrated by two classes of enthusiasts: yourselves, and the
rabid portion of the Tloman Catholics. Now kiss and be friends : and
for good reason why you should fraternize, read the subjoined edifying
account, extracted from the Times, of the late proceedings of the
Cardinal Viale Prela, Archbishop of Bologna :—

" His Eminence has ordered that a portion of the statue Gigante di Piazza shall
be covered to avoid scandal. This statue was the work of John of Boloqna, and
had remained uncovered for many years. The same regulation has been enforced
with respect to all the puttini, so much admired in the churches of Bologna. The
Cardinal has forbidden any more singing in the churches. By this measure, the
chapel of St. Petrona, so renowned for its vocal music, will be deprived of its cele-
brity. All servile work is strictly forbidden on Sundays and holidays, and should
any person be found in the streets carrying the smallest parcel, the police have
orders to arrest him, and force him to pay a heavy fine."

Here, my puritanical friends, you have a Popish Archbishop and a
Cardinal to boot, actually putting statues into shorts and longclothes,
and stopping profane singing in churches. Of course he has not
altogether prohibited singing, but only that species of vocal music
that excites other emotions than those of gloom and melancholy. He
cannot have forbidden priests to sing through their noses, and he has
in all probability allowed choristers to continue to assist them in that
melodious exercise. The sacred music, therefore, in the churches of
Bologna, is probably as dull and slow, if it is not as ludicrous, as the
majority of your own devotional tunes. Bat what will still more
recommend—may 1 not say endear ?—the holy Cardinal to you, is the
circumstance that he has forbidden all servile work on Sundays.
That is to say, he has forbidden cookery; and the Bologna people
must, consequently, content themselves with cold dinners on the
Sabbath. Better still, a fine is enforced for the offence of carrying a
parcel in the streets on that day; so that, in point of fact, Cardinal
Viale Prela is as thoroughgoing a Sabbatarian as you would like
to see invested with despotic authority for every Sunday over the
British public.

In the meanwhile, you have English and Irish Roman Catholics at
home combining with yourselves in the endeavour to exclude the Jews
from Parliament. In view of the attitude now openly taken by their
priesthood all over the Continent, they see that it is idle to pretend
any longer to be the friends and champions of religious liberty. They
are fast coming to an agreement with you in essentials—that is to say j
in the essentials of fanaticism: in bigotry, intolerance, the love of
domination, and the anxiety to incommode and annoy the public.
Being thus practically of one accord, you and they may as well cease
to contend about speculative trifles, and no longer suffer your little
differences of opinion concerning truth or falsehood to stand in the
way of your friendship. Put your horses—Dr donkeys—together, and
unite in endeavouring to make yourselves as troublesome as possible,
and in actually making yourselves exceedingly ridiculous—for the
love of $3OJ0C®.

P.S. The Divorce Bill affords you a nice bit of common ground,
and I rejoice to see that the asses of your respective breeds meet on
that common.

A Westminster Colloquy.

" Talk of the murrain upon Cows !" exclaimed an intelligent
Broadway milkman, " Blest if 1 don't lay all that 'ere murrain upon
Sir Benjamin 'All."

" Why ? " was the mild interrogatory.

" 'A cos he's bin and gone and ruined one of the finest milk-walks
in Westminster."

" How ? " was the imbecile rejoinder.

" Why, bless my 'eart, 'avent he bin and gone and dried up all our
pumps !"