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A Poetical Cook-Book   By:

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Transcriber's Note

The original text used both symbol and numbered footnote markers. This text maintains the distinction. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. A list of corrections is found at the end of the text along with a list of inconsistently spelled words.

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We may live without poetry, music, and art; We may live without conscience and live without heart; We may live without friends; we may live without books; But civilized man cannot live without cooks . He may live without books what is knowledge but grieving? He may live without hope what is hope but deceiving? He may live without love what is passion but pining? But where is the man who can live without dining ? OWEN MEREDITH'S "LUCILE."

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[Illustration: Author's initials]

"I REQUEST you will prepare To your own taste the bill of fare; At present, if to judge I'm able, The finest works are of the table. I should prefer the cook just now To Rubens or to Gerard Dow."




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864,


In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.


"What's under this cover? For cookery's a secret." MOORE.

When I wrote the following pages, some years back at Oak Lodge, as a pastime, I did not think it would be of service to my fellow creatures, for our suffering soldiers, the sick, wounded, and needy, who have so nobly fought our country's cause, to maintain the flag of our great Republic, and to prove among Nations that a Free Republic is not a myth. With these few words I dedicate this book to the SANITARY FAIR to be held in Philadelphia, June, 1864.

March, 1864.

Through tomes of fable and of dream I sought an eligible theme; But none I found, or found them shared Already by some happier bard, Till settling on the current year I found the far sought treasure near. A theme for poetry, you see A theme t' ennoble even me, In memorable forty three.

Oh, Dick! you may talk of your writing and reading, Your logic and Greek, but there is nothing like feeding. MOORE.

Upon singing and cookery, Bobby, of course, Standing up for the latter Fine Art in full force. MOORE.

Are these the choice dishes the Doctor has sent us? Heaven sends us good meats, but the Devil sends cooks. That my life, like the German, may be "Du lit a la table, de la table au lit." MOORE.


Though cooks are often men of pregnant wit, Through niceness of their subject few have writ. 'Tis a sage question, if the art of cooks Is lodg'd by nature or attain'd by books? That man will never frame a noble treat, Whose whole dependence lies in some receipt . Then by pure nature everything is spoil'd, She knows no more than stew'd, bak'd, roast, and boil'd. When art and nature join, the effect will be, Some nice ragout , or charming fricasee . What earth and waters breed, or air inspires, Man for his palate fits by torturing fires. But, though my edge be not too nicely set, Yet I another's appetite may whet; May teach him when to buy, when season's pass'd, What's stale, what choice, what plentiful, what waste, And lead him through the various maze of taste. The fundamental principle of all Is what ingenious cooks the relish call; For when the market sends in loads of food, They all are tasteless till that makes them good. Besides, 'tis no ignoble piece of care, To know for whom it is you would prepare... Continue reading book >>

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