The Physiology of Taste by Brillat Savarin (bearly read books txt) 📖

pay round prices for

them.

 

In a purely financial point of view turkeys demand much attention.

 

I have reason to believe, that between the first of November and

the end of February, three hundred dindon truffees are consumed

per diem. The sum total is 30,000 turkeys.

 

The price of every turkey in that condition is at least twenty

francs, and the sum of the whole is not less than 720,000 francs—

a very pretty sum of money. One must add a similar sum for the

fowls, pheasants, pullets and partridges, suffered in the same

way, and which are every day exhibited in the provision shops, as

a punishment for beholders who are too poor to buy them.

 

EXPLOIT OF THE PROFESSOR.

 

While I was living at Hartford, in Connecticut, I was lucky enough

to kill a wild turkey. This exploit deserves to be transmitted to

posterity, and I tell it with especial complaisance as I am myself

the hero.

 

An American farmer had invited me to hunt on his grounds; he lived

in the remotest part of the State, [Footnote: Brillat-Savarin uses

the French words “derrieres de l’etat” and translates them in

English, in parenthesis “Backwoods.”] and promised me partridges,

grey squirrels and wild turkeys. [Footnote: He also translates in

the same manner “dindes sauvages” welp cocks.] He also permitted

me to bring a friend or two if I pleased.

 

One fine day in October, 1794, therefore, with a friend, I set out

with the hope of reaching the farm of Mr. Bulow, five mortal

leagues from Hartford, before night.

 

Though the road was hardly traced, we arrived there without

accident, and were received with that cordial hospitality

expressed by acts, for before we had been five minutes on the

farm, dogs, horses and men were all suitably taken care of.

 

About two hours were consumed in the examination of the farm and

its dependencies. I would describe all this if I did not prefer to

display to the reader the four buxom daughters of Mr. Bulow, to

whom our arrival was a great event.

 

Their ages were from sixteen to twenty-four, and there was so much

simplicity in their persons, so much activity and abandon, that

every motion seemed full of grace.

 

After our return from walking we sat around a well furnished

table. A superb piece of corned beef, a stewed goose, and a

magnificent leg of mutton, besides an abundance of vegetables and

two large jugs of cider, one at each end of the table, made up our

bill of fare.

 

When we had proven to our host, that in appetite at least, we were

true huntsmen, we began to make arrangements for our sport. He

told us where we would find game, and gave us land-marks to guide

us on our return, not forgetting farm-houses where we could obtain

refreshments.

 

During this conversation the ladies had prepared excellent tea, of

which we drank several cups, and were then shown into a room with

two beds, where exercise and fatigue procured us a sound sleep.

 

On the next day we set out rather late, and having come to the end

of the clearings made by Mr. Bulow, I found myself in a virgin

forest for the first time. The sound of the axe had never been

heard there.

 

I walked about with delight, observing the blessings and ravages

of time which creates and destroys, and I amused myself by tracing

all the periods on the life of an oak since the moment when its

two leaves start from the ground, until it leaves but a long black

mark which is the dust of its heart.

 

My companion, Mr. King, reproached me for my moodiness, and we

began the hunt. We killed first some of those pretty grey

partridges which are so round and so tender. We then knocked down

six or seven grey squirrels, highly esteemed in America, and at

last were fortunate enough to find a flock of turkeys.

 

They rose one after the other, flying rapidly and crying loudly.

Mr. King fired on the first and ran after it. The others were soon

out of shot. The most sluggish, of all arose at last, not ten

paces from me. It flew through an opening, I fired and it fell

dead.

 

One must be a sportsman to conceive the extreme pleasure this shot

caused me. I siezed on the superb bird and turned it over and over

for a quarter of an hour, until I heard my companion’s voice

calling for assistance. I hurried to him and found that he called

me to aid him in looking for a turkey he claimed to have killed,

but which had disappeared.

 

I put my dog on the scent but he led us into an under growth, so

thick and thorny that a snake could scarcely penetrate it; I had

then to give up the search, and my companion was in a bad humor

all day long.

 

The rest of the day scarcely deserves the honors of printing. On

our return we lost ourselves in boundless woods, and we were in

not a little danger of having to stay out all night, when the

silvery tones of Mr. Bulow’s daughters, and the deep bass of their

father, who had come to look for us, guided us home.

 

The four sisters were fully armed with clean dresses, new ribbons,

pretty hats, and so carefully shod that it was evident that they

had formed a high opinion of us. I tried to make myself agreeable

to the one of the ladies who took my arm, a thing she did as

naturally as if it had belonged to her jure conjugali.

 

When we reached the farm supper was ready, but before we sat down

to the table we drew near to a bright and brilliant fire which had

been lighted for us, though the season did not indicate that such

a a precaution was necessary. We found it very comfortable,

fatigued as we were, and were rested as if by enchantment.

 

This custom doubtless comes from the Indians who always have a

fire in their huts. It may be, this is a tradition of St. Francis

de Sales, who said that fire was good eleven months of the year

(non liquet).

 

We ate as if we were famished; a large bowl of punch enabled us to

finish the evening, and a conversation, which our host made

perfectly free, led us far into the night.

 

We spoke of the war of Independence, in which Mr. Bulow [Footnote:

The M. Bulow of whom Savarin speaks, is none other than Lieut.

Col. Bellows of the Connecticut Line, many of whose relations yet

remain in the Valley of the Connecticut.] had served as a field

officer of M. de La Fayette, who every day becomes greater in the

eyes of the Americans, who always designate him as “the Marquis”

of agriculture, which at that time enriched the United States, and

finally of my native land, which I loved the more because I was

forced to leave it.

 

When wearied of conversation the father would say to his eldest

daughter, “Maria, give us a song.” She without any embarrassment

sung the American national airs. The complaints of Mary Stuart and

of Andre, all popular in America. Maria had taken a few lessons,

and in that remote country passed for a virtuosa; her singing

though, derived its charm from the quality of her voice, which was

at once clear, fresh and accentuated.

 

On the next day, in spite of Mr. Bulow’s persuasions, we set out.

I had duties to discharge; and while the horses were being

prepared, Mr. Bulow took me aside and used these remarkable words.

 

“You see in me, sir, a happy man, if there be one under heaven;

all that you see here is derived from my own property. My

stockings were knit by my daughters, and my cloths were furnished

by my flocks. They also, with my garden, furnish me with an

abundance of healthy food. The greatest eulogium of our government

is, that in the State of Connecticut there are a thousand farmers

as well satisfied as I am, the doors of whom have no locks.

 

“Taxes are almost nothing, and as long as they be paid any one can

sleep calmly. Congress favors national industry as much as it can,

and merchants are always ready to take from us whatever we wish to

sell. I have ready money for a long time, for I have just sold at

twenty-four dollars a barrel, flour I usually receive eight for.

 

“All this is derived from the liberty we have acquired, and

established on good laws. I am master of my own house; and you

will not be astonished when you know that we never fear the sound

of the drum, and, except on the 4th of July, the glorious

anniversary of our Independence, neither soldiers, uniforms, nor

bayonets are seen.”

 

On my way back I seemed absorbed by profound reflection. Perhaps

the reader may think I mused on my host’s parting words; I had

very different thoughts, however, for I was studying how I should

cook my turkey. I was in some trouble, for I feared I would not

find all I needed at Hartford, and wished to make a trophy of my

spolia opima.

 

I make a painful sacrifice in suppressing the details of the

profound science I exhibited in the preparation of an

entertainment, to which I invited several friends. Suffice it to

say that the partridge wings were served en papillote, and the

grey squirrels stewed in madeira.

 

The turkey, which was our only roast dish, was charming to the

sight, flattering to the sense of smell, and delicious to taste.

Therefore, until the last fragment was eaten, there were heard

around the table, “Very good;” “Exceedingly good;” “Dear sir; what

a nice piece.” [Footnote: The flesh of the wild turkey is more

highly colored and more perfumed than the domestic fowl. I am glad

to learn that my amiable colleague, M. Bosc, had killed many in

Carolina, which he found excellent, and far better than those in

Europe. He therefore recommends that they be allowed the largest

liberty, that they be driven into the woods and fields, to enhance

the flavor and bring it as nearly as possible back to the original

species.—Annales d’Agriculture cah. du 28 Fevr. 1821.] By game we

mean all wild animals which are fit to eat, and live in a state of

natural liberty.

 

We say fit to eat, because many animals which are in a state of

nature are not fit to eat. Such as foxes, crows, pies, wild-cats,

etc. They are called in French Betes puantes vermin.

 

Game is divided into three series.

 

The first contains all birds, from the grive to the smallest of

the feathered tribe.

 

The second ascends from the rail to the snipe, partridge, and

pheasant, including the rabbit and the hare; it is divided into

three categories, of the marsh, hairy, and feathered.

 

The third, which bears the name of venison, is composed of the

wild-boar, kid, and all other horny-footed cattle.

 

Game is one of the great luxuries of our tables; it is a healthy,

warm, highly-flavored and high tasted flesh, easily digested,

whenever one is hungry.

 

These qualities, however, are not so inherent as not to a certain

degree to depend on the skill of the cook. Put some water, salt

and beef into a pot, and you can obtain from them a very good

soup. Substitute venison for the beef, and the result will not be

fit to eat. Butcher’s meat, in this respect, has the advantage.

Under the manipulation, however, of a skilful