Salad Lore

Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, is supposed to be the inventor of salads. Because of his fondness for salad plants he was accused of eating grass, and, like most originals, was considered a “crank.”

The “bitter herbs” of the Paschal Feast of which we read in sacred scripture, was nothing more nor less than a salad. It consisted of lettuce, dandelion, camomile and mint, combined with oil and vinegar.

From the Oriental countries has descended our taste for salads. “A lodge in a garden of cucumbers” in the sultry eastern lands was a haven of rest indeed. In those days cucumbers and melons were among the greatest luxuries.

The Greeks were noted for their fondness of lettuce, which they served at the end of a repast. The Romans, always the imitators of the Greeks, followed their example in this respect, but later they used lettuce with egg as a first course, in order to stimulate the appetite. In default of lettuce, they ate endive. The narcotic value of lettuce was recognized by ancient physicians, and the Greek physician, Galen, termed it the “philosopher’s, or wise man’s herb.” The herb doctors prescribed the spring salad for the sick, while the superstitious extolled it as a preventive of disease and decay. Queen Catherine of England, a great lover of the salad, could not procure it in London, and her royal husband, Henry, had to send to the Netherlands for a gardener to come and cultivate the necessary plants.

Many Americans have the erroneous idea that foreign nations excel in salad-making. France for a long time lead in this delicate art; we are told that the artist preeminent in salad-making was the Frenchman, Chevelier Gaudet, who fled to England at the outbreak of the French Revolution, and without friends or fortune, realized a handsome property from his knowledge of salad-making alone. He considered the mixing of a salad as so serious and dignified a profession that he never approached the salad bowl except in full gala costume, with his sword by his side. His services were in great demand by the nobility, in order that their guests might be regaled with one of his creations.

Alexander Dumas could mix a salad as thrilling as some of his great romances. But France does not possess, nor can she import, the great variety of delicious fruits and vegetables obtainable in our own land.

By far the best recipes are those which have originated in the United States, and almost without exception, they are alike inexpensive, elegant, delicious, and healthful. Some of our American men have produced wonderful masterpieces in salads.

Delicacy in food belongs to the cultured and salad-making is an art which all may covet. No woman’s list of accomplishments is complete which does not include the mastery of the secret of the perfect salad. This secret lies in the dressing, and those who have conquered it are to be envied. It is their privilege to add to the plainest dinner a desirable dish, stimulating to the fancy and giving zest to the appetite of even the most fastidious.

Among epicures the luncheon or dinner party of today does not pass as an unqualified success which does not include a new salad, and yet it is as difficult to devise a new salad, as it is to invent a new idea. It is in the combinations that the true skill of the artist is shown.

The real value of the salad plants was unknown until some fortunate soul discovered the happy combination of oil and vinegar. Plain, common vinegar is for the plebeian, but mixed with oil, may give us a combination rivaling the ambrosia of the gods.

The salad stands alone in this particular: It may be served on all occasions, and to any class of people. It is one of the most delightful and healthful of Heaven’s gifts to man. A modern authority tells us that “salads refresh without weakening, and make people younger.” While this statement may be accepted with the proverbial grain of salt, it is nevertheless true that salad plants are better tonics and blood purifiers than druggists’ compounds.

Our food, like everything else, changes with the times. The favorite dishes of our grandmothers are not recognizable today, so altered and multiplied have they become; while on the other hand, all kinds of fruits have been brought into use in order to meet the demand for variety in salads. The climate varies so with the seasons, that we need an almost constant change of food. The highly-seasoned, rich salad may be very acceptable during the winter months, while during the hot weather there is a craving for the more delicate and refreshing salad.

We eat too few green salads; we should cultivate a taste for them and learn to prefer them to more hearty foods. Vinegar, pepper, salt, and mustard prevent the fermentation of fresh vegetables when eaten, but of course they should be used judiciously. The best oil aids digestion and is also most healthful, being often prescribed by physicians for disordered livers. It is a mistake to think that a good salad will produce dyspepsia. If a salad be eaten slowly and in moderation, its effect is wholesome and nutritious.

Strange as it may appear, there is no absolute rule to be given for blending a salad sauce, but we cannot refrain from giving Sydney Smith’s oft-quoted recipe for a Winter Salad dressing, which some of the readers may not have:

To make this condiment your poet begs, The pounded yellow of two hard boiled eggs; Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen sieve, Smoothness and softness to the salad give. Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl, And, half suspecting, animate the whole. Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,-- Distrust the condiment that bites too soon; But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault, To add a double quantity of salt; Four times the spoon with oil from Lucca crown, And twice with vinegar procured from town; And, lastly, o’er the flavoured compound toss, A magic soupcon of anchovy sauce. Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat! ’Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat. Back to the world he’d turn his fleeting soul, And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl. Serenely full, the epicure would say, Fate cannot harm me, I have dined today.

In delightful contrast, a modern epicure, Mr. Wallace Rice, gives us the following recipe for a French dressing, which is our notion of the perfect salad dressing:

Let luscious golden oil its body be, Wholesome and sweet and clear; its quickening soul Vinegar, child of mellow wine, but dole Its sharpness circumspectly, not too free; The sacred salt its mind--a pinch or three, No more; and for its wit take pretty toll Of bright cayenne, to vivify a whole, So blended, we are hungered as we see.

The which with some fresh herb--lettuce for choice-- Is tired, until each dry and crispy leaf In this new gloss and savor doth rejoice-- Tired deftly, lest untasted, to our grief, Aught should bedew the dish. Due thanks then voice To Him who made this of all salads, chief.

There is no fixed rule for the mixing of salads. If one possesses a little originality and sufficient tact to discriminate between “not too much,” and “not too little,” of salt, pepper, oil, and vinegar, he can allow fantasy to have some slight sway in the salad bowl, and there is hardly a limit to the variety of salads that can be made during the summer.

The majority of people insist upon making a salad dressing in one particular way, but it should be borne in mind that tastes are widely dissimilar, and that they cannot always be depended upon to be the same. The danger is that in always using the same kind of dressing, the acute sense of taste will be lost.

One’s individual taste should not govern the making of a salad, as this fondness for a certain condiment may not be shared by every one. A vigorous, athletic person is able to eat and enjoy a salad that would well-nigh strangle a person of less strenuous habits.

A good salad cannot be made from poor materials. However limited they may be, they must be of the best quality: Green vegetables fresh and crisp, the meat or fish well seasoned and cold; the oil pure and sweet. One can always rely upon the best quality of olive oil for salads, but there are those who prefer the flavor of smoked bacon fat. This is particularly true of people living in hot climates.

Of course salt is indispensable for seasoning and flavoring. To a Frenchman or Italian a salad would not be a salad without the onion or garlic flavor, and indeed, this pungency is commonly enjoyed even by those who would not knowingly partake of a dish thus flavored. The onion should be mild, and its presence cleverly hidden, for its unenviable reputation might cause a fastidious guest to refuse a really delicious salad.

Our best authorities on salad-making are shocked at the common practice of using a mayonnaise dressing on fruit salads of any kind. They would invariably take the dressings made with fruit juices. Fish, fowl, and meats would take the mayonnaise, while the vegetable salads almost without exception take the French dressing.

Of the uncooked vegetables lettuce is preeminently the first in favor. It is the king of salads, and whatever else is used, lettuce usually forms part of the salad dish to make it complete. It is essential that leaf salads and celery be dry. Oil and water do not mix, and if the salad is wet, the dressing will run off and also lose its flavor. They should be dried carefully by shaking in a napkin.

One should handle salads with care, and gently. A good rule to follow is to run the fork and spoon down the sides of the dish, and then lightly tire the salad with an upward movement, allowing it to mix as it falls back.

The common habit of decorating all kinds of salads with hard boiled eggs, gives a sameness of appearance and often produces a lack of harmony. They are out of place when used with meats, except as they form a part of the dressing, but they may be appropriately used with fowl or fish.

A vegetable salad may be made a thing of artistic beauty, and the pleasing art of table decorations, so happily possessed by American housekeepers, gives a splendid opportunity for the salad-artist to display taste and originality in the arrangement of this most ornamental of all dishes. Salads badly prepared are an abomination.

Cooked vegetables should be boiled and cut up separately, and all should be duly seasoned with salt and pepper. Lettuce and celery should always be broken with the fingers--never cut. Some of the dry white wines, hock, moselle, chablis, and the like, may be used instead of the vinegar, wholly or in part. A morsel of garlic, rubbed thoroughly with salt and pepper, may be used with asparagus, celery, and other herbs of pronounced flavor. The dressing should not be put on green salads before the moment of serving.

To become a perfect salad-maker, one should not attempt too much at the beginning. He should practice on plain salads and simple dressings for some time before attempting the combination salads, fancy dressings and elaborate garnishings, and he will soon become a perfect salad-artist.

Salads should always be served cold, and as if one loved them. They, like all children of the taste and fancy, will amply repay all the pains that are taken with them. Let me then wish you joy, luck, and skill in the practice of this delicate accomplishment.

+Olive M. Hulse.+

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