On Meals and Dining of 1905

At noon the family sits down to a simple breakfast—fruit, broiled chicken, creamed potatoes, hot bread and coffee, for example. The maid has few dishes to wash, is not too tired to enjoy her afternoon off, and gets away two or three hours earlier than her less fortunate sisters. Also she remains where she is hired—which has its advantages. Only a light lunch is needed in the evening which the mistress may serve, leaving the dishes to be washed in the morning.

There is an old saying to the effect that “all may eat, but ladies and gentlemen dine.” The difference lies more in the preparation and manner of serving than in the food itself, and whether her evening meal is a banquet or a repast of the lunch-counter sort rests wholly with the housewife.

We pause long enough to pay our disrespects to that barbarous institution known in America as the Sunday Dinner. On six days in the week, the average business man eats a light luncheon or none at all. On the seventh day, at an unaccustomed hour, he eats a heavy meal, goes to sleep shortly afterward, and wonders why Monday is a “blue day.”

Our uncivilized Sundays are responsible for our Monday morning headaches and for the gloom which, in many a household, does not wear off until Tuesday morning. If Sunday were a day of fasting instead of a day of feasting, Monday might be radiant occasionally instead of riotous or revolutionary.

We make Sunday a hard day for the women of the household, especially the servants, and the imperial liver appertaining to the Head of the Establishment balks sometimes at the strain. The American Sunday Dinner is one cause of the American Servant Problem—and everybody knows what that is.

In more than one household, a twelve or one o’clock breakfast has proved both hygienic and satisfactory. Coffee and rolls are served to those who want them at eight or nine o’clock, if they come into the dining-room. At noon the family sits down to a simple breakfast—fruit, broiled chicken, creamed potatoes, hot bread and coffee, for example. The maid has few dishes to wash, is not too tired to enjoy her afternoon off, and gets away two or three hours earlier than her less fortunate sisters. Also she remains where she is hired—which has its advantages. Only a light lunch is needed in the evening which the mistress may serve, leaving the dishes to be washed in the morning.

Owing to the aforesaid American Servant Problem an increasing number of women do their own housework—not from choice, but from stern necessity. This book is intended for the woman in a small house or apartment, who is her own cook, who earnestly desires to do her duty by her family, yet be something more than a wearied and soul-sickened drudge; who has to look after her dimes and nickels, if not her pennies, and who wants more than the weekly “afternoon off” accorded to the stronger women who undertake domestic tasks.

Simplicity—and, as a general rule, economy—has been the standard by which each recipe has been judged. All are within the capabilities of the most inexperienced cook, who is willing to follow directions, and, in the case of such variable materials as flour and eggs, trust, now and then, to her own judgment. — From, “The Myrtle Reed Cook Book,” 1905

🍽Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia

Fashionable Edwardian Lunches

For a luncheon sweet, if one be tired of the Coupe Jacques so excellent here, the order for two should be one Savarin with cerise d’espagne, which means in plain American “a ring of sponge cake” made without baking powder; it gets its fluffiness from yeast and eggs. Over the cake and soaking into it is a sauce made of fruit syrup flavored with Maraschino and the hole is filled with whipped and sweetened cream garnished profusely with Spanish cherries and leaves of angelica. —
Image of Coupe Jacques courtesy of Pinterest

If one has plenty of time it is quite “the thing” to take luncheon with a friend, Dutch treat or American, at one of the hotels on Fifth avenue. In spite of reports to the contrary it does not cost much more to lunch here in quiet elegance than it does on the top floor of our noisy department stores. The surroundings here are in harmony with one’s self respect and the feeling of satisfaction is well worth the few dimes’ difference. 

Among the specialties here, not too expensive for the ordinary woman, are “eggs Posen.” This dish consists of toast upon which reposes, in a pond of pale tomato sauce flavored with truffles, some stewed oyster crabs-only a few topped by a beautifully poached egg. Another dish is “egg Valentine,” which is something like the above with fresh crab meat as a substitute for the oyster crabs and a sauce Hollandaise in place of the tomato sauce. The best of all their egg dishes for those who can't abide oyster crabs, is “eggs Benedict.” These appear in pairs, the foundation being muffins split and toasted. On top of them are thin slices of broiled ham and the whole is surrounded with Hollandaise sauce enriched by butter and eggs. A poached or daintily fried egg surmounts this.

For a luncheon sweet, if one be tired of the Coupe Jacques so excellent here, the order for two should be one Savarin with cerise d’espagne, which means in plain American “a ring of sponge cake” made without baking powder; it gets its fluffiness from yeast and eggs. Over the cake and soaking into it is a sauce made of fruit syrup flavored with Maraschino and the hole is filled with whipped and sweetened cream garnished profusely with Spanish cherries and leaves of angelica. One order of each of the egg dishes is enough for two if some other substantial dish is ordered at the same time. A salad mayonnaise makes a good combination or a simple salad Romaine if the other be too hearty.

After such a luncheon, suppose we dine late over on Broadway. We will order stuffed red peppers and we will get along with our piece de resistance, as a vegetable, fresh or canned red peppers filled with bread moistened with cream, rich with butter and bristling with chopped fresh mushrooms. These are served like a pyramid, upside down, in a delicious sauce seasoned with fresh tomato. The salad chiffonade here too is novel as it is made of strange materials and tastes far better than the thing by the same name elsewhere.— From The Housekeeper, 1905

Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor for Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia