DOI Heft:
July 26, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0056
48
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[July 26, 1884.
HORTICULTURAL CUTTINGS.
(iCulled and Fetched from a Considerable Distance by Dumb-Crambo Jun.)
Pet-you-near. Ah,-but-ill-us!
OUR INSANE-ITARY GUIDE TO THE HEALTH
EXHIBITION.
Paet VII.—The “ Chinoiseeies.”
We are standing- at the end of the Gallery at the North-East
corner of the Horticultural Gardens. We look for the Colony sent
over to us by the Emperor, and which are to faithfully represent
the manners and customs of “The Flowery Land.” We find
them behind a crowd of spectators, who are gazing with open-
mouthed astonishment at some fans and pottery very similar to
those exhibited daily in Regent Street. The Colony (which consists
of about a dozen individuals or so) is distributed amongst three
or four stalls devoted to the sale of articles of commerce, which,
with the exception of some pipes, are nearly as well known in
London as in China. The Pekin Government, however, no doubt
with an eye to the main chance, has supplemented the Colony with
several energetic European Salesmen, who push the “leading
articles,” while the Orientals are calmly fanning themselves. The
arrangement is a wise one. The purchaser of, say, three ivory
billiard halls feels that he has bought a not-to-be-obtained-else-
where memento of the home of the Son of the Sun if he has expended
his money within sight of a pigtail. Should the British Government
wish to return the compliment paid to them by the Chinese
Commissioners by sending to them in fair exchange for the Pekin
consignment to England an English Expedition to “ the Flowery
Land,” they could easily carry out their intention by engaging, with
their stocks in trade, an umbrella-maker from the Tottenham Court
Road, a second-hand furniture dealer from New Oxford Street, and
two or three of the smaller toy-sellers from the Lowther Arcade. The
British Government might add to these a couple of assistants from a
Coffee Palace, four performers from a street-perambulating German
band, the chef of an East-End Restaurant, and a few extra figures
from Madame Tussaud’s, garbed in some of the contents of an estab-
lishment where “ Ladies and Gentlemen’s wardrobes” were bought.
Having satisfied the craving of curiosity in the Bazaar with its
grinning effigies of Chinese dress-wearers and ‘ ‘ branch establish-
ment ” articles of commerce, the sense of sight yields precedence to
the sense of hearing. In the distance are heard screechings and
bowlings and drum-thumpings, and, by-and-by, the exact locality
in which the “ Concert ” is being held is ascertained by the marked
hilarity of an easily-tickled Policeman, who guards, and sternly
guards, the entrance door. When accosted, the Constable suddenly
assumes his gravity, and informs you that you can enjoy the melody
of the Band by paying a shilling for admittance to the Tea-Room.
But the music you have heard before, and so you tear yourself away
from the sweet sounds, and make for the Saloon devoted to the
feature of the Pekin Commission—
The Celebkated Chinese Dinnee !
Having paid seven shillings and sixpence you enter a large room,
decorated with artificial flowers made of tissue-paper of the brightest
colours. One wall is painted with trellis-work and eccentric
creepers and birds. There are tables laid out in the European
fashion, save that the spoons and forks are supplemented with chop-
sticks. There are two or three Chinamen carrying kettles, but
unmistakable Waiters (of Swiss, German, or French extraction)
seize your hat and umbrella. You are seated, and commence
with
The Hors cl'CEuvres.—These consist of olives from Na-Ples, and
some sausage, which may have come from the well-known cities near
Pekin of Stras-Bo-Urg or Bo-Log-Na; and from this point to the
end of the feast you notice that all present are “making believe”
that they are quite like Chinese. They even try to cut their
dinner-rolls with chopsticks, and to speak to the natives in “ Pigeon-
English.”
Soups—Birds' Nest and Fish Maw d la Tortue— To give a
thorough Chinese flavour to these liquids (which did you not know
that they were Chinese you would take for rather waterv consomme,
and rather thick mock-turtle), the Chinamen show you that they can
be consumed with the assistance of a silver punch-ladle. They (the
two soups) are brought up together in saucers, which are deposited
on the same plate. This arrangement has also a kind of Oriental
look about it, as you can either take a spoonful of thick and thin
alternately, or allow the thick to grow cold while you are eating the
thin, or vice versa. By following either course you obtain some-
thing strange, and nasty, in fact just what you might expect at a
Pekin dinner. Up to now all the diners feel that they are “quite
the Chinese.”
Fish.—Several sorts.—Souchet de Turbot does not look very
Oriental; and although Truite d la Ling Wang hath a Flowery Land
name, its flavour recalls the Restaurants of the Palais Royal rather
than those of Hong-Kong. It is at this point you ask one of the Swiss
or German Waiters whether Messrs. Beeteam and Robeets are not
the contractors ? “ Oh, no,” he returns, seemingly rather hurt—“it
is the Chinese Government.” He adds that he believes that it is the
first time that the Pekin Ministry have “tried anything of the sort
in Europe.” “Well,” you think to yourself, “ the Pekin Ministry
must be careful, if they wish to make a deep impression in the
culinary line ; for they have powerful rivals in Spiees and Pond*to
say nothing of the excellent three-and-sixpennv dinner at the
St. James’s Hall, or the Holborn Restaurant.” However, “ Ling
Wang ” is in the Menu, and you are comforted by the reflection.
Shaoshmg Wine. — “Come, this is thoroughly Chinese!” you
murmur, on the appearance of this liquid „ It is brought to you by "the
pigtailed Waiters in kettles, and poured out hot into small teacups.
It tastes like a mixture of hock, the traditional flavour of furniture-
polish, and chocolate cream. To those who like those articles of food,
therefore, it seems no doubt very good indeed. This course gives
general satisfaction. Really, might be in Pekin !
Entrees.—Several. Amongst them Jambon grille au Epinard, and
Supreme de Volaille d la Shanghae. These two dishes, in spite of the
Chinese title of the last, are so thoroughly French that you feel
forced at length to appeal to your Swiss-German Waiter to ask
whether or not there isn’t a Gallic Cook somewhere about the estab-
lishment ? He admits with some hesitation that there is, hut adds
quickly “That the Chef had lived for fifteen years in Pekin.”
From which it is inferred that he (the Chef) had had ample time to
forget all his French cookery. But no, it is too late. The impression
which has been haunting you for half an hour has become a
certainty. In spite of the course finishing with “Shark’s Fin,”
which looks and tastes very much like tinned lobster curried, you
cannot play at being Oriental any more. And at this point
the Chinese Waiters appear once again with their hot wine, which,
on inquiry, turns out to be made of rice and not of hock, chocolate-
drops, and furniture-polish, as first supposed. And here you note
that, after the serving of a particularly French plat, this liquid is
immediately supplied,—the golden rule of the Chinese Waiters seem-
ing to be, “ When the diners are in doubt, play the Saoshing Wine."
Sweets.—Noisettes de Lotus a la Helianthus and Compote de
Something. Both evidently from the hand of the distinguished Chinese
culinary convert. And here we had a fair sample of the inter-
national character of the dinner. The Swiss-German Waiter brought
round some shreds of preserved vegetable which turned out to be
potatoes fried in the French fashion, and covered with Chinese
sugar!
Bird.— Cailles au Cresson-Salade. This was too much! “ Surely,
surely ! ” I said to the European Waiter, “ this is not a Chinese dish ! ”
“ Indeed, yes,” he replied, and called an Oriental colleague to ask
him for the name. The blandly-smiling attendant in blue promptly
answered, “ Quailes.” He then immediately offered to show me how
to eat a lettuce-salad of the ordinary European type with a pair of
chopsticks.
Dessert.—We were now served with those well-known Chinese
concoctions. Creme a la Diplomate and Lemon Water lee. The
whole concluded with a feature which no doubt is as common in
China as in England—a bill for extras.
To sum up. Take them all round, the “ Chinoiseries” are not
quite satisfactory. To really enjoy the Dinner you must be ex-
ceedingly hungry, and to rightly appreciate the Bazaar you must
have lived from your earliest days in the wildest part of, say, the
Highlands of Scotland, and of course never have seen Regent Street.
But for all that, both deserve a visit—h’m!—one visit!
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[July 26, 1884.
HORTICULTURAL CUTTINGS.
(iCulled and Fetched from a Considerable Distance by Dumb-Crambo Jun.)
Pet-you-near. Ah,-but-ill-us!
OUR INSANE-ITARY GUIDE TO THE HEALTH
EXHIBITION.
Paet VII.—The “ Chinoiseeies.”
We are standing- at the end of the Gallery at the North-East
corner of the Horticultural Gardens. We look for the Colony sent
over to us by the Emperor, and which are to faithfully represent
the manners and customs of “The Flowery Land.” We find
them behind a crowd of spectators, who are gazing with open-
mouthed astonishment at some fans and pottery very similar to
those exhibited daily in Regent Street. The Colony (which consists
of about a dozen individuals or so) is distributed amongst three
or four stalls devoted to the sale of articles of commerce, which,
with the exception of some pipes, are nearly as well known in
London as in China. The Pekin Government, however, no doubt
with an eye to the main chance, has supplemented the Colony with
several energetic European Salesmen, who push the “leading
articles,” while the Orientals are calmly fanning themselves. The
arrangement is a wise one. The purchaser of, say, three ivory
billiard halls feels that he has bought a not-to-be-obtained-else-
where memento of the home of the Son of the Sun if he has expended
his money within sight of a pigtail. Should the British Government
wish to return the compliment paid to them by the Chinese
Commissioners by sending to them in fair exchange for the Pekin
consignment to England an English Expedition to “ the Flowery
Land,” they could easily carry out their intention by engaging, with
their stocks in trade, an umbrella-maker from the Tottenham Court
Road, a second-hand furniture dealer from New Oxford Street, and
two or three of the smaller toy-sellers from the Lowther Arcade. The
British Government might add to these a couple of assistants from a
Coffee Palace, four performers from a street-perambulating German
band, the chef of an East-End Restaurant, and a few extra figures
from Madame Tussaud’s, garbed in some of the contents of an estab-
lishment where “ Ladies and Gentlemen’s wardrobes” were bought.
Having satisfied the craving of curiosity in the Bazaar with its
grinning effigies of Chinese dress-wearers and ‘ ‘ branch establish-
ment ” articles of commerce, the sense of sight yields precedence to
the sense of hearing. In the distance are heard screechings and
bowlings and drum-thumpings, and, by-and-by, the exact locality
in which the “ Concert ” is being held is ascertained by the marked
hilarity of an easily-tickled Policeman, who guards, and sternly
guards, the entrance door. When accosted, the Constable suddenly
assumes his gravity, and informs you that you can enjoy the melody
of the Band by paying a shilling for admittance to the Tea-Room.
But the music you have heard before, and so you tear yourself away
from the sweet sounds, and make for the Saloon devoted to the
feature of the Pekin Commission—
The Celebkated Chinese Dinnee !
Having paid seven shillings and sixpence you enter a large room,
decorated with artificial flowers made of tissue-paper of the brightest
colours. One wall is painted with trellis-work and eccentric
creepers and birds. There are tables laid out in the European
fashion, save that the spoons and forks are supplemented with chop-
sticks. There are two or three Chinamen carrying kettles, but
unmistakable Waiters (of Swiss, German, or French extraction)
seize your hat and umbrella. You are seated, and commence
with
The Hors cl'CEuvres.—These consist of olives from Na-Ples, and
some sausage, which may have come from the well-known cities near
Pekin of Stras-Bo-Urg or Bo-Log-Na; and from this point to the
end of the feast you notice that all present are “making believe”
that they are quite like Chinese. They even try to cut their
dinner-rolls with chopsticks, and to speak to the natives in “ Pigeon-
English.”
Soups—Birds' Nest and Fish Maw d la Tortue— To give a
thorough Chinese flavour to these liquids (which did you not know
that they were Chinese you would take for rather waterv consomme,
and rather thick mock-turtle), the Chinamen show you that they can
be consumed with the assistance of a silver punch-ladle. They (the
two soups) are brought up together in saucers, which are deposited
on the same plate. This arrangement has also a kind of Oriental
look about it, as you can either take a spoonful of thick and thin
alternately, or allow the thick to grow cold while you are eating the
thin, or vice versa. By following either course you obtain some-
thing strange, and nasty, in fact just what you might expect at a
Pekin dinner. Up to now all the diners feel that they are “quite
the Chinese.”
Fish.—Several sorts.—Souchet de Turbot does not look very
Oriental; and although Truite d la Ling Wang hath a Flowery Land
name, its flavour recalls the Restaurants of the Palais Royal rather
than those of Hong-Kong. It is at this point you ask one of the Swiss
or German Waiters whether Messrs. Beeteam and Robeets are not
the contractors ? “ Oh, no,” he returns, seemingly rather hurt—“it
is the Chinese Government.” He adds that he believes that it is the
first time that the Pekin Ministry have “tried anything of the sort
in Europe.” “Well,” you think to yourself, “ the Pekin Ministry
must be careful, if they wish to make a deep impression in the
culinary line ; for they have powerful rivals in Spiees and Pond*to
say nothing of the excellent three-and-sixpennv dinner at the
St. James’s Hall, or the Holborn Restaurant.” However, “ Ling
Wang ” is in the Menu, and you are comforted by the reflection.
Shaoshmg Wine. — “Come, this is thoroughly Chinese!” you
murmur, on the appearance of this liquid „ It is brought to you by "the
pigtailed Waiters in kettles, and poured out hot into small teacups.
It tastes like a mixture of hock, the traditional flavour of furniture-
polish, and chocolate cream. To those who like those articles of food,
therefore, it seems no doubt very good indeed. This course gives
general satisfaction. Really, might be in Pekin !
Entrees.—Several. Amongst them Jambon grille au Epinard, and
Supreme de Volaille d la Shanghae. These two dishes, in spite of the
Chinese title of the last, are so thoroughly French that you feel
forced at length to appeal to your Swiss-German Waiter to ask
whether or not there isn’t a Gallic Cook somewhere about the estab-
lishment ? He admits with some hesitation that there is, hut adds
quickly “That the Chef had lived for fifteen years in Pekin.”
From which it is inferred that he (the Chef) had had ample time to
forget all his French cookery. But no, it is too late. The impression
which has been haunting you for half an hour has become a
certainty. In spite of the course finishing with “Shark’s Fin,”
which looks and tastes very much like tinned lobster curried, you
cannot play at being Oriental any more. And at this point
the Chinese Waiters appear once again with their hot wine, which,
on inquiry, turns out to be made of rice and not of hock, chocolate-
drops, and furniture-polish, as first supposed. And here you note
that, after the serving of a particularly French plat, this liquid is
immediately supplied,—the golden rule of the Chinese Waiters seem-
ing to be, “ When the diners are in doubt, play the Saoshing Wine."
Sweets.—Noisettes de Lotus a la Helianthus and Compote de
Something. Both evidently from the hand of the distinguished Chinese
culinary convert. And here we had a fair sample of the inter-
national character of the dinner. The Swiss-German Waiter brought
round some shreds of preserved vegetable which turned out to be
potatoes fried in the French fashion, and covered with Chinese
sugar!
Bird.— Cailles au Cresson-Salade. This was too much! “ Surely,
surely ! ” I said to the European Waiter, “ this is not a Chinese dish ! ”
“ Indeed, yes,” he replied, and called an Oriental colleague to ask
him for the name. The blandly-smiling attendant in blue promptly
answered, “ Quailes.” He then immediately offered to show me how
to eat a lettuce-salad of the ordinary European type with a pair of
chopsticks.
Dessert.—We were now served with those well-known Chinese
concoctions. Creme a la Diplomate and Lemon Water lee. The
whole concluded with a feature which no doubt is as common in
China as in England—a bill for extras.
To sum up. Take them all round, the “ Chinoiseries” are not
quite satisfactory. To really enjoy the Dinner you must be ex-
ceedingly hungry, and to rightly appreciate the Bazaar you must
have lived from your earliest days in the wildest part of, say, the
Highlands of Scotland, and of course never have seen Regent Street.
But for all that, both deserve a visit—h’m!—one visit!