Friday, February 26, 2010

The Idler, Monday, February 22, 2010

Roast beef of Olde Englande

CONTROVERSY over the contract won by one of President Jacob Zuma's paramours to supply the Provincial Legislature with tea, coffee, juice, biscuits, scones and so on – at a cost last year of something like R2 million – prompts Neil Dunton to send in the Bill of Fare of the Lord Mayor's Banquet, in London in 1849.

It reads as follows: 250 tureens of real turtle, containing five pints each; 200 bottles of sherbet; 6 dishes of fish; 30 entrees; 4 boiled turkeys and oysters; 60 roast pullets; 60 dishes of fowls; 46 dishes of capons; 6 dishes of Capt White's Selim's true India curries; 50 French pies; 60 pigeon pies; 53 hams ornamental; 45 tongues; 2 quarters of house-lamb; 2 barons of beef; 3 rounds of beef; 2 stewed rumps of beef; 13 sirloins, rumps and ribs of beef; 6 dishes of asparagus; 60 dishes of mashed and other potatoes; 44 dishes of shellfish; 4 dishes of prawns; 140 jellies; 50 blancmanges; 40 dishes of tarts creamed; 40 dishes of almond pastry; 30 dishes of orange and other tourtes; 20 Chantilly baskets; 60 dishes of mince pies; 56 salads.

The Removes (presumably extra stuff that would be wheeled in as required, if you were still peckish): 89 roast turkeys; 6 leverets; 80 pheasants; 24 geese; 40 dishes of partridges; 15 dishes of wild fowl; 2 pea fowls.

Dessert: 100 pineapples, from 2 to 3lb each; 200 dishes of hot-house grapes; 250 ice creams; 50 dishes of apples; 100 dishes of pears; 60 ornamental Savoy cakes, 75 plates of walnuts; 80 plates of dried fruit and preserves; 50 plates of preserved ginger; 60 plates of rost cakes and chips; 46 plates of brandy cherries.

Now that's what I call a catering contract! Neil doesn't say if it was his grandfather who tendered, but I bet it was won fair and square!

 

How many guests?

ANALYSING the above, it seems there were few vegetarians around in those days. But it's a little more difficult to work out how many guests there were at the banquet.

Take the soup – most people start off with soup – there were 250 tureens, each holding five pints. Heavens! Who drinks a pint of soup? Maybe they did in those days. Maybe it was half a pint each. That would make it 2 500 people at the banquet. Quite a bash.

And why the skimpiness in certain categories? Six dishes of fish; six dishes of Capt White's true India curries; only two roast peacocks. Where does that go among 2 500 guests?

Perhaps guests were asked to state in advance their dietary preference, the way we often are these days. Of course, they didn't have e-mail or fax, but you could always send your man round to the Guildhall with a note reading: "Count me in on the boiled turkeys and oysters but not the boiled rumps of beef. I also fancy one of Capt White's true India curries, followed up with some roast peacock then pineapple for pud. Thank you."

Boy, could they feed their faces in those days! Today's medical fraternity would be appalled. Tea, coffee, biscuits, scones and juice. The Provincial Legislature has a way to go.

Dietary let-down

MIND you, this "dietary preference" thing is a bit of a let-down. Whenever I get an invitation to a corporate bunfight, and it asks my dietary preference, I always fire back immediately with: "Roast pheasant and champagne, followed up with peppermint ice cream."

To date, I've always been disappointed.

 

 

 

Upward mobility

PAUL and Kathy Joubert send in a snippet about a squatter camp inhabitant near Somerset West, in the Western Cape, who bought a new TV from a high street store.

Days later he returned, complaining that it kept cutting out. When the store investigated, they found the set was connected to a nearby traffic light and it worked only on the green.

The progress is jerky, but I suppose it is upward mobility. Not everyone in those circumstances has a new TV.

 

Tailpiece

Earthworm to caterpillar: "Who do you have to sleep with to get that fur coat?"

Last word

Women want mediocre men, and men are working hard to become as mediocre as possible.

Margaret Mead

GRAHAM LINSCOTT

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