MADAME LOYSON ON COOKING.
By Ellinor Allison
QUITE lately I was privileged to hear an informal address given by Madame Loyson, Père Hyacinth’s devoted wife, to an audience of women. Though a New England woman, after a long residence in Paris, she says to her countrywomen: “I must attribute many of the evils existing in America to-day to American cooking. In France I rarely find a dyspeptic; in America I seldom meet a man or woman free from some form of indigestion. The American bread maker uses flour from which the nutriment has been refined, and then bakes it too fast. Bread should be baked slowly and well. “Sweets, rich and heavy, are served for dessert. Ripe, health-giving fruit is smothered in sugar. Candy is served at dinner, eaten between meals, and given to children frequently. Salt, pepper, and the various spices are freely used daily. The consumers of the heating, thirst-producing food must drink. They do drink. Perhaps the draughts are ice water or supposedly pure water from the cistern or well. Perhaps the son, brother, or husband allays his thirst with beer, wine, or stronger liquor. Perhaps the highly-seasoned favorite breakfast dish prepared by a careful hand for the man of the house led him directly to the saloon.” That Madame Loyson earnestly believes in her gospel of simple living, she lately proved, while being entertained in this city by appreciative friends who desired to give her a dinner, when she declined courteously the kindly intended compliment, stating a preference for mush and milk with fruit. We women have read many encomiums regarding French cookery and French economy. Many dishes particularly esteemed by the French people are not suited to the American palate. We are not all vegetarians and do confess to a liking for something good in the culinary line prepared by a good American cook, but when a consecrated woman, a reformer, a Madame Loyson, who is herself a plain, frugal woman, in love admonishes her sister women that appetizing, thirst-producing food paves the way to drunkenness and morbid appetites, a threadbare subject is invested with a new interest. The oversalted and peppered breakfast potato balls and broiled ham that we ate one morning last week were relished. A highly seasoned slice of roast, a cup of rich, sweet sauce, and a slice of rich pie were reserved for the lunch pails. Our highly-seasoned breakfast occasioned repeated visits to the water pail during the morning. A highly-seasoned lunch eaten at noon again resulted in a desire to drink the well dry. Is it well that we should burn with an unnatural thirst? When mere babies are troubled with indigestion, is it not well that those who love the little sufferers begin a vigorous search for the cause? Some years since a prominent society woman narrowly escaped dying, the sudden and almost fatal illness being occasioned by eating at a banquet salted almonds. Sweets, spices, condiments enter largely into our cookery. If a too lavish use of these articles creates morbid cravings and unnatural tastes, is it not duty to remember we are our “brother’s keeper,” and that “life is more than meat.” In many humble homes the helpful literature desired by the inmates is not obtainable. The grocery bills leave nothing each month for “luxuries.” Madame Loyson states that she has never spent during her busy life one penny for candy. That this famous and gifted woman thoroughly understands the science of true economy, which means the cutting off the hurtful and useless extras in the food prepared for the hungry, the thoughtful woman who is privileged to number one in a Loyson audience will readily believe.—Ellinor Allison, in (Minneapolis) Housekeeper.