COOKERY FOR LICENSED VICTUALLERS.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XIV, Issue 814, 12 October 1905, Page 25

COOKERY FOR LICENSED VICTUALLERS.

'By “ Cuisinieu,” in “ L.V. Gazette.”) CARVING. I have frequently been asked: Are there any general principles in carving to be observed ? Is it a fact that meat tastes differently if you cut it in a certain way from what it will taste if you cut it another way? As an illustration, we will take a loin of mutton which has been jointed by the butcher. It is cut in chops right through, one for each customer. There is the upper part, the under-cut, the bone, and the piece of fat at the end which we all know so well. But suppose that the loin of mutton had never been separated from its brother loin, and the two together had been roasted as a saddle, then you get the same thing in another way, but the saddle is as much above a loin as an Alderman is above a Common Councillor. We associate the saddle with the tables of the great or the dining-rooms of West End clubs, while the humble loin may be seen at the restaurant of the city clerk or on the working-man’s Sunday dinner table. The one demands red currant jelly and French beans, while the other asks only for potatoes and cabbage. And yet there is seemingly no difference between the two save in the method of carving. The saddle is carved by cutting thin, even slices from each side of the centre bone, while the loin is served in chops as jointed by the butcher. There is no reason, however, why a loin should not be carved in the same way as a saddle by taking slices lengthwise from it, but in this case the meat should not be jointed. The loin undoubtedly suffers from being jointed, as every chop across the bone makes a hack into the meat, through which the gravy runs out when cooking. Were we to have our loin of mutton roasted whole, without being jointed at all. it would taste quite as good as a saddle. Why this is not more often done 1 cannot say. There is one principle to be borne in mind in carving, and that is to keep the gravy in the meat. If we cut a leg across we let out more gravy than if we cut it parallel with the bone. A neck of mutton boiled is always jointed and cut in chops, and we all know how very little flavour there is in it except for the capers and the turnips. A neck of mutton unjointed, roasted, not too well done, and carved like a saddle, is almost as good as a saddle in the estimation of most people. In carving a good deal depends upon the knife, and, of course, the carver must know how to use it. It must be drawn across the meat with a very gentle pressure. It is necessary to have a side action, corresponding to that of sawing. A good lesson in carving is to watch a man in a ham and beef shop, with a knife about two feet long and half an inch wide all the way down. How easily the slices come off, and how thin they are! It is really high art, and such carving requires daily practice. It is impossible to enter into details of how to carve the variety of joints of meat, game, etc., without diagrams, but a few general remarks will not be out of place. One universal maxim is: Carve fairly.

Let every guest have a fair proportion of the joint, so that every part may be utilised. In carving ribs of beef, for instance, let each customer have a piece of the red centre, and also of the end, and of that long piece of meat of a darker colour which crosses the joint nearer the top, with ridges of a still darker colour. In carving a large cold roast turkey, if the bird is to be exposed to view, leave the breast-bone clothed with a thin coating of white meat for the sake of appearance. Some persons, in their anxiety to carve the breast so as not to cut into the limbs, will destroy the joint for next day. It is far better to cut lower down into the wing. What you have to avoid is the bare bone itself. The following remarks apply to all kinds of roast or boiled fowls: —Care should be taken to cut plenty of the white meat of the breast off with the wings. The knife should be drawn in a saw-like manner, and much downward pressure avoided, as the white flesh is apt to crumble. To remove the leg and thigh, insert the fork into the leg and the knife underneath, and then raise the leg away from the remainder of the bird. Common sense will then show the carver where to cut, as a sort of elastic skin only causes the leg to adhere. The thigh-bone will now leave the socket, and

a very little assistance of the knife is necessary to free the leg. The neck-bone is next removed, and then the breast separated from the carcase by cutting the thin rib-bones through on each side. The liver-wing and breast are considered the best parts; after that the other wing, to which the gizzard is generally attached. There are certain rules and regulations regarding carving which are settled for us by tradition. For instance, mutton should be cut thick; beef should be cut thin. Why, we cannot say. Take, again, a sirloin of beef; custom decrees that the top part is to be cut lengthwise, and the undercut crosswise.

It may be asked : Is there any art in carving a beef-steak pie ? Certainly there is. A man with an artistic eye will place the piece of pie-crust with the shiny side uppermost. A man with no eye will

often place it the other way about. It may rest easier the latter way, but it is like handing a plate of bread and butter with the buttered side down.