Here is the first part of Alfred Suzanne's 1894 book La Cuisine Anglaise.
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Preface.
It is an undeniable fact that, in recent years, English customs and traditions have gradually taken root in France. The most popular sports, such as soccer, lawn tennis, golf, rally-paper [1], polo, horse racing, and croquet, have been imported from England, and English cuisine itself is also becoming increasingly popular here, as one can see by consulting the menus of fine dining establishments and the food lists of Paris’s top restaurants. Clear evidence of this tendency to "feast" [2] like our neighbors is that we have adopted and adapted to French these terms, while retaining their original names: le five o'clock, le luncheon, and le garden-party.
King Edward VII’s official visit to Paris in 1903, along with the splendid reception held for President Loubet in London, played no small part in fostering good relations between the two nations and helping them put their old quarrels behind them.
Proud of our culinary superiority, which is indisputable, and driven by ridiculous chauvinism and absurd prejudices, we have never been able to admit that another nation could produce good cuisine. However—and I call on those who have traveled abroad to attest to this—every country has a few national dishes that are certainly worthy of note, as well as certain specialties that are not to be dismissed.
Is there, for example, a soup creamier [Fr. plus onctueux] than turtle soup? Is there a fried dish more delicate and more delicious than whitebait, a roast comparable to suckling pig stuffed with sage and onion, and nothing more delightful than a beefsteak or lark pudding?
York ham enjoys a universal reputation, and as for Wiltshire smoked bacon, there is nothing in the world that matches its aroma and flavor.
Need I mention Indian-style chicken curry, grilled devilled pheasant, braised rabbit with capers, and so many other savory dishes, the mere naming of which brings a tear of delight to the lips?
Cuisine in England has made immense strides over the last fifty years; today, London boasts English cooks whose talent rivals that of our best French chefs.
I do not intend to sing the praises of English cuisine out of bias, nor to draw a comparison with our own, which comparison would leave England at a distinct disadvantage. I simply wish to point out a fact: English cuisine contains excellent elements that I would love to see adopted in France.
French chefs who have spent years working across the Channel know how to make the most of these bonnes choses by adding a touch of refinement and applying their own signature style and good taste; in short, by "Frenchifying" them. This is not a question of artistic or ornamental cooking; I only want to talk about fundamental cooking, that wholesome, honest, and hearty cooking which—I dare say—is currently being sacrificed a bit too much for the sake of frills and decoration. The reason for this progress is easy to understand: improved transport links and relatively affordable travel have led to more frequent contact between the French and the English. Parents intending for their sons to become cooks no longer hesitate to send them to Paris for their apprenticeship, whereas in the past, they would have been deterred by travel costs and the difficulty of communicating or corresponding with their children. A full quarter of the apprentices trained in Parisian pastry shops and restaurants are English. These young people bring back the culinary skills they have acquired to their home countries; if they are intelligent, hardworking, and persevering, they soon rank among fine cooks. Meanwhile, cooking schools abound in England today, especially in London, where they enjoy aristocratic patronage. Run by expert chefs, these schools attract young women from the middle and even upper classes who attend culinary lectures. The instructor, assisted by two or three helpers, explains the theory behind various dishes, which the assistants then prepare on the spot before the audience. These long-established cooking schools play a major role in spreading and popularizing French cuisine in England. In France, women do not need to learn how to cook; it comes naturally to them. Scarcely settled into their own households, they take up the task quite naturally, putting into practice the lessons learned from their mothers, lessons they will, in turn, pass on to their own daughters. The situation is different in England, where the traditional "housewife" figure does not exist. The wife of a clerk or a member of the lower middle class would consider it beneath her dignity to attend to the cooking. As for the working-class man, upon returning home from work, he invariably finds a piece of cold meat on the table that was cooked on Sunday and is intended to sustain him throughout the week. He can expect nothing more from his wife, whose culinary skills and knowledge are limited to boiling potatoes and roasting or boiling a piece of meat; the mysteries of the frying pan and the saucepan are unknown to her.
But even if the Englishman is unfamiliar with the subtleties of French cuisine and unaware of its economic principles, one must admit that his diet is healthy and nutritious.
At the inauguration of the cooking school on Rue Bonaparte, Jules Simon, the honorable senator who presided over the ceremony, extolled the strength and vigor of the English and attributed this to their diet.
I myself lived in England for forty years and was in a better position than anyone else to observe and study the way of life of our neighbors and to note that, while the English may not know how to eat, they at least know very well how to nourish themselves.
My goal in writing this cookbook is to make things easier for those of my colleagues who will be called upon to join the already large ranks of French chefs scattered throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain and its colonies.
The English gentleman has always had a pronounced fondness, which he does little to conceal, for his national cuisine; thus, he makes it a rule to return to it at regular intervals, not only out of taste but also for practical reasons; for his robust stomach, accustomed since childhood to hearty food, would have difficulty adjusting to an essentially French diet, with its light soups and delicate dishes.
It is not uncommon for a cook who has just arrived in England to be forced to leave his job after only a short stay, often because of the difficulties he faces in adapting to the language and customs of the country, but even more often because he lacks even the most basic knowledge of British cuisine.
This book, which deals exclusively with English and American cuisine, will therefore be of undeniable use to chefs working in England and the United States, just as it will provide my colleagues residing in France with recipes and information that are unfamiliar to them, allowing them to vary their menus by occasionally including dishes that, although of English origin, are nonetheless of very high quality.
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Editor's notes
1. A kind of race.
2.Fr. « festiner ». I suppose this is in contrast to fêter which would normally be used but more broadly means party. Festiner has an archaic sound, the same as if you were to call a party a "feast" today.
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Translated with DeepL
