TWELVE MONTHS' MENUS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVII, Issue 95, 21 April 1906, Page 9

TWELVE MONTHS' MENUS.

By 'Old Salt."

The pleasure of the Jiurit is in the chase, and not the quarry; and most philosophers are agreed that happiness consists in the search for that happy medium which lies between tße extremes of good and evil fortune. The vicissitudes experienced during such a search are, perhaps, best illustrated by an inspection of the bills of fare which claim the attention of the pilgrim, and it may amuse my readers if 1 chronicle some of my gastronomic experiences of the past twelve months. Here, after having been broken to harness at the Port Adelaide Sailors' Home, I partook of the first meal which conies within the limit set by my article. It consisted of curried sausages and mashed potatoes; both beyond reproach, innocuous and filling. By the way, in Port Adelaide I suffered the pains of purgatory at an establishment known as the Prince Alfred Sailors' Home. As a protest against a cup and saucer full of tea, 1 emptied the contents of the saucer upon the deck ("floor" I should have said), and was thereupon classed by ths superintendent—an ex-official from the local gaol —as a dangerous and mischievous person, a reputation up to which I humbly aspired to live. It is worth while, en passant, to record that at this particular port of call, boiled eggs —in puris natui-alibus—were served with neither cups nor spoons, a hole cut iit a piece of bread taking the place of the former and a knife being used aa a conveyance of nourishment.

After this the regime of a sailing ship's forecastle became my common lot and daily fare. For one nundred ana thirty-six days the only $Bod for contemplation and assimilation was salt beef and salt pork, varied on Sundays and Wednesdays by the introduction of fresh mess, known, as "soup and bully," "dog's body," and "Harriet Lane." (Peace to the memory of one so foully murdered and barbarously used!) Christmas Day, off Cape Horn, wjis signalised and made memorable by a pudding which was neither nor cake. Most of the foremast hands decided to break up their portion and make "dandyiunk"' for tea; but to those who did not, that pudding, instead of serving as a "niemento mori" made tb.em think that death was the only desirable thing left upon & "The purple sea. That gave them scanty bread." After this long passage, and arrived at Antwerp, all that my soul—or stomach —longed for was salad, and a royal salad I had. It was made in an enamelled wash-hand-basin at number one Ankerrui. Gratefully 1 recall the memory, and* would I could the salad. Then came lean days, during which 1 discovered that the only cup of tea worthy of discussing was to be obtained i at the Cafe de Mexico, while the gailoral: boardinghouses in anii Schipperschaeppel-street provided for their patrons only sausage—an infinite variety in both shape and colour, but one in flavour, and that not very pleasant. The sausage appears to be to the Belgian what "bifstek" is to the Briton. The favourite song in the streets of thattime was: "When we are married we'll have sausages for tea." Alas! I had them threte times a day— sausages of black with a pattern in white mosaic and vice-versa, brown, pink," full-blooded and anaemic, the only oasis —or piece of green—in the desert (only one "s," Mr Printer, please)* being afforded by an occasional dish of saver-kraut, a most enjoyable dish, too, and one that is only condemned by those without knowledge or experience. 1 wish it were possible to speak as well of another dish which occasionally (dia)graced the board. This was sweet soup, mustard yellow in complexion, cream-like in consistency, and dotted with black islands, which I first diagnosed as cockroaches, but afterwards found were prunes. The taste was of a cloying sweetness, and— I need not have feared cockroaches — there was nothing to attract them, although I have known them to assimilate oilskins and sea-bootsT From Antwerp came a dreary journey to London, landing at Liverpool-street station with fifteen centimes (equivalent to three half-pence) and a plug of tobacco. 1" bestowed my capital as largesse upon a friendly porter who promised to look after my personal effects for an hour or two. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast," and although the same effects had failed to realise ten francs in Antwerp, I was determined to redeem them in London. Providence and an outfitter's "runner" came to my aid, and guided mc to benevolence and breakfast, the former consisting of half a

sovereign, and tie latter 'of > cold ; ham, -marmalade, and' coffee. Subsequent breakfasts in the East-End of London— 11 was waiting for my pay, which came to London via the Board of Trade, and was delayed in transmission—-introduced mc to the mysteries -of "a two-eyed steak, two doorsteps, and a cup of juice (Anglice, a bloater, two slices of bread, and - "churrio" and "coffee) —at 3d breakfast for a king!- I must explain here that all of these cheap restaurants exhibit placards bearing the words, "So pure butter is sold in this establishment." Then the stringency of my. financial position being relieved, I resumed acquaintance" with the table d'hote of respectability at the "Three 2&uis" in Aldgate (house dear to all old sailorinen). I remember that I nearly shed tears when I found that veal did not appear upon the carte; it seemed that the returning prodigal was being deprived of his legitimate rights, but feeling that I had nearly made a caH of myself, consented to compromiae with chicken. '■

Then in quick succession came luncheons at Fraseati's, dinners at the Holborn and the Cecil* grills in the Marble Room of the Trocadero, and suppers at the Florence, with" one, most memorable, at Romano's. Space will not permit mc to record the menus of these establishments; but it would be easier to state what was lacking , rather than all that was comprised. At one of these palaces of. delight a curious incident happened. My friend, a Chicago man. who had dined with -mc, accompanied mc into the smoking lounge, where I ordered two Benedictines. " Sayl" he eaid, "what did they, charge you for this little lot?" Examining my change, I Teplied, "Three shillings," and shuddered at the thought of the bill he had discharged. " Pretty steep, eh,?' , was ihis comment. It was necessary for mc to catch a train at London Bridge, and my friend offered to drive-that- far with. mc. The hansom had not passed out of the i Strand -before my-companion said, in a thoughtful tone-: " Well, I like to think .-I get value for money, anyhow; " but;" ■ drawing from his pocket -the two -liqueur glasses, " what in thunder am I going to do with these blamed things V . If he fulfilled his expressed' intention, they ale now adorning his "little girl's doll's house. ' ...... ■__,; Unfortunately I missetl "the famous pudding, night at "the "Cheshire Cheese," which, with its old-fashioned boxes and sanded floors, still remains a prime favourite,, and a "Haunt of hungry sinners, . ', Old boxes," larded- wltii "Hie steam "■ Of thirty thousand dinners." . * However, I Tiave very pleasant memories of the grilled steak (such steak.'), the potatoes cooked in their jackets, the Stilton and the earthenware "mugs of. nut-brown Burton ale. Had the great Johnson never compiled his lexicon, -he * still would have deserved well from posterity for discovering this excellent hostelry.

My enthusiasm, I fear, has led mc to such lengths that my readers ■will think, that these ghosts of bygone feasts and fasts have produceda species of literary indigestion, so I will only glance at ; Liverpool, where I fared sumptuously. at the " Exchange" and comfortably; but more modestly at the "Star and" Garter." At Santa Cruz, Teneriffe, ■where I had a remarkably good dinner and surprisingly good wine at a cost of two shillings. The " Mount ■■, 2Jelson,'"' poor dinner' and a fine"-large bill, so large indeed that* with other expenses, morning found mc in extremis, and my breakfast was dispensed by a Qreek. in Greenmarket-street and served by; a : Kaffir garcon. Cape Town, let mc remark, is a veritable ' melting pot for money. I remember—but that is another story. ■ ~."., . Adelaide furnished no experience worth recording, nor did Melbourne, save that'm "the'last-named'place I introduced, at his own solicitatioii," a passenger to " long soup," in, a'GMrieie restaurant situated in " Lilly Bulkestreet." ! In Sydney, Paris House claimed mc for its own, and I firmly believe that there is to be found the best cooking in the Mother C-ity. I assisted -in congratulating Searle, the champion, scut, ler, upon his victory over .Totois. Champagne was abundant, and possibly I looked "upon that menu with indulgent eye and.warped judgment ; but the supper was certainly good and the appointments charroing. . To detail my experiences in "New Zealand would be embarrassing (unless full ad\ r ertising rates be paid), so suffice it to say that at the height of my fortunes the tariff of the hotel I patronised was twelve and sixpence a day, with, mirabile dictu, no -concession, to commercial travellers, while that which how shelters mc charges a shilling a night and sixpence for meals. Not yet, however, will I write "Ichabod." As Pop* wisely says, " God from all creatures hides the Book of Fate," and if the possibilities of the future include* the drinking of a " cup of thick"" at Ijockha-ft's, they also embrace the sip* ping of my Dry ATonopole frappe at "Bt* Jiminie's." - .. .

Somewhere between the two I shall find the' golden mean, and ■ trust that Providence will.. see fit to provide' mc with the golden means..