Not a heavy nor a cloying repast would they find. Indeed, the bare
simplicity of my menu, had it been previously disclosed, would
doubtless have disappointed more than one of my dinner-giving
patronesses; but each item had been perfected to an extent never
achieved by them. Their weakness had ever been to serve a profusion of
neutral dishes, pleasing enough to the eye, but unedifying except as a
spectacle. I mean to say, as food it was noncommittal; it failed to
intrigue.
I should serve only a thin soup, a fish, small birds, two vegetables,
a salad, a sweet and a savoury, but each item would prove worthy of
the profoundest consideration. In the matter of thin soup, for
example, the local practice was to serve a fluid of which, beyond the
circumstance that it was warmish and slightly tinted, nothing of
interest could ever be ascertained. My own thin soup would be a
revelation to them. Again, in the matter of fish. This course with the
hostesses of Red Gap had seemed to be merely an excuse for a pause. I
had truly sympathized with Cousin Egbert's bitter complaint: "They
hand you a dab of something about the size of a watch-charm with two
strings of potato."
For the first time, then, the fish course in Red Gap was to be an
event, an abundant portion of native fish with a lobster sauce which I
had carried out to its highest power.
Pages:
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300