Take the flesh and mingle it with beef, lard and herbes fines, adding also salt and truffles enough to fill the stomach of the pheasant.

Cut a slice of bread larger, considerably, than the pheasant, and cover it with the liver, etc., and a few truffles.  An anchovy and a little fresh butter will do no harm.

Put the pheasant on this preparation, and when it is boiled surround it with Florida oranges.  Do not be uneasy about your dinner.

Drink burgundy after this dish, for long experience has taught me that it is the proper wine.

A pheasant served in this way is a fit dish for angels, if they visited the world as they did in Lot’s day.

What I say, experience has already proved.  A pheasant thus stuffed by Picard at La Grange [Footnote:  Does he refer to La Fayette’s estate?] was brought on the table by the cook himself.  It was looked on by the ladies as they would have looked at one of Mary Herbault’s hats.  It was scientifically tasted, and in the interim the ladies eyes shone like stars, and their lips became coral.

I did more than this; I gave a similar proof to the judges of the supreme court.  They are aware that the toga is sometimes to be laid aside, and I was able to show to several that good cheer was a fit companion and reward for the labors of the senate.  After a few moments the oldest judge uttered the word excellent.  All bowed, and the court adopted the decision.  I had observed that the venerable old men seemed to take great delight in smelling the dish, and that their august brows were agitated by expressions of extreme serenity, something like a half smile hanging on their lips.

All this thing, however is naturally accounted for.  The pheasant, itself, a very good bird, had imbibed the dressing and the flavor of the truffle and snipe.  It thus becomes thrice better.

Thus of all the good things collected, every atom is appreciated and the consequence is, I think the pheasant fit for the table of a prince.

Parve, nec invideo, sine me liber, ibis in aulam.

VII.

Gastronomical industry of the emigres.

Toute Francaise, a ce que j’imagine,

Salt, bien ou mal faire, un peu de cuisine.

Belle Arsene, Act.  III.

In a chapter written for the purpose, the advantages France derived from gourmandise in 1815, were fully explained.  This was not less useful to emigres; all those, who had any alimentary resources, received much benefit from it.

When I passed through Boston, I taught a cook, named Julien, who in 1794 was in his glory, how to serve eggs with cheese.  Julien was a skilful lad, and had, he said, been employed by the Archbishop of Bourdeaux.  This was to the Americans a new dish, and Julien in return, sent me a beautiful deer he had received from Canada, which those I invited to do honour to it, thought admirable.