The Oxford English Dictionary defines aristology as “the
art or ‘science’ of dining,” and gives the etymological explanation that it
comes from the Greek words for ‘breakfast, luncheon’ and ‘discourse.’ The first
reference cited is from The Art of
Dining; and the Art of Attaining High Health: With a Few Hints on Suppers
(Philadelphia, 1835) by Thomas Walker, Esq.
I thought an extract from this work
might be interesting to you:
According
to the Lexicons, the Greek for dinner is Ariston, and therefore, for the
convenience of the terms, and without entering into any inquiry, critical or
antiquarian, I call the art of dining Aristology, and those who study it,
Aristologists. The maxim, that practice makes perfect, does not apply to our
daily habits; for, so far as they are concerned, we are ordinarily content with
the standard of mediocrity, or something rather below. Where study is not
absolutely necessary, it is by most people altogether dispensed with; but it is
only by an union of study and practice, that we can attain any thing like
perfection. Anybody can dine, but very few know how to dine, so as to ensure
the greatest quantity of health and enjoyment —indeed many people contrive to
destroy their health; and as to enjoyment, I shudder when. I think how often I
have been doomed to only a solemn mockery of it; how often I have sat in
durance stately, to go through the ceremony of dinner, the essence of which is
to be without ceremony, and how often in this land of liberty I have felt
myself a slave!
There
are three kinds of dinners - solitary dinners, everyday social dinners,
and set dinners; all three involving the consideration of cheer, and the last
two of society also. Solitary dinners, I think, ought to be avoided as much as
possible, because solitude tends to produce thought, and thought tends to the
suspension of the digestive powers. When however, dining alone is necessary,
the mind should be disposed to cheerfulness by a previous interval of
relaxation from whatever has seriously occupied the attention, and
by directing it to some agreeable object. As contentment ought to be an
accompaniment to every meal, punctuality is essential, and the diner and the
dinner should be ready at the same time. A chief maxim in dining with comfort
is, to have what you want when you want it. It is ruinous to have to wait for
first one thing and then another, and to have the little additions brought,
when what they belong to is half or entirely finished.
To avoid this a little foresight is good, and, by way of instance, it is sound
practical philosophy to have mustard upon the table before the arrival of
toasted cheese. This very omission has caused as many small vexations in the
world, as would by this time make a mountain of misery. Indeed, I recommend an
habitual consideration of what adjuncts will be required to the main matters;
and I think an attention to this, on the part of females, might often be
preventive of sour looks and cross words, and their anti-conjugal consequences.
There are not only the usual adjuncts, but to those who have any thing of a
genius for dinners, little additions will
sometimes suggest themselves, which give a sort of poetry to a repast, and
please the palate to the promotion of health. As our senses were made for our
enjoyment, and as the vast variety of good things in the world were designed
for the same end, it seems a sort of impiety not to put them to their best
uses; provided it does not cause us to neglect higher considerations. The
different products of the different seasons, and of the different parts of the
earth, afford endless proofs of bounty, which it is as unreasonable to reject,
as it is to abuse. It has happened, that those who have made the gratification
of the appetite a study, have generally done so to excess, and to the exclusion
of nobler pursuits; whilst, on the other hand, such study has been held to be
incompatible with moral refinement and elevation. But there is a happy mean,
and as upon the due regulation of the appetite assuredly depends our physical well-being,
and upon that, in a great measure, our mental energies, it seems to me that the
subject is worthy of attention, for reasons of more importance than is
ordinarily supposed.
…
I will now give you, dear reader, an account of a dinner I have ordered this
very day at Lovegrove’s, at Blackwell, where if you never dined, so much the
worse for you. This account will serve as an illustration of my doctrines on
dinner giving better than a long abstract discourse. The party will consist of
seven men besides myself, and every guest is asked for some reason, - upon
which good fellowship mainly depends, for people, brought together unconnectedly,
had, in my opinion, better be kept separate. Eight I hold to be the golden
number, never to be exceeded without weakening the efficacy of concentration.
The dinner is to consist of turtle, followed by no other fish but white bait,
which is to be followed by no other meat but grouse, which are to be succeeded
simply by apple fritters and jelly; pastry on such occasions being quite out of
place. With the turtle, of course there will be punch, with the white bait
champaign, and with the grouse, claret: the two former I have ordered to be
particularly well iced, and they will all be placed in succession upon the
table, so that we can help ourselves as we please. I shall permit no other
wines, unless, perchance, a bottle or two of port, if particularly wanted, as I
hold variety of wines a great mistake. With respect to the adjuncts, I shall
take care that there is cayenne, with lemons cut in halves, not in quarters,
within reach of every one, for the turtle, and that brown bread and butter in
abundance is set upon the table for the white bait. It is no trouble to
think of these little matters beforehand, but they make a vast difference in
convivial contentment. The dinner will be followed by ices, and a good dessert,
after which coffee and one glass of liqueur each, and no more; so that the
present may be enjoyed rationally without inducing retrospective regrets. If
the master of a feast wishes his party to succeed, he must know how to command,
and not let his guests run riot, each according to his own wild
fancy. Such, reader, is my idea of a dinner, of which I hope you approve; and I
cannot help thinking that if parliament were to grant me 10,000 a year, in
trust, to entertain a series of worthy persons, it would promote trade and
increase the revenue more than any hugger-mugger measure ever devised.
… the dinner at
Blackwall, mentioned before, was served according to my directions, both as to
the principal dishes and the adjuncts, with perfect exactness, and went off
with corresponding success. The turtle and white bait were excellent; the
grouse not quite of equal merit; and the apple fritters so much relished, that
they were entirely cleared, and the jelly left untouched. The only wines were
champaign and claret, and they both gave great satisfaction. As soon as the
liqueurs were handed round once, I ordered them out of the room; and the only
heresy committed was by one of the guests asking for a glass of bottled porter,
which I had not the presence of mind instantly to forbid
There was an opinion
broached that some flounders water-zoutcheed, between the turtle and white
bait, would have been an improvement, - and perhaps they would. I dined again
at Blackwall as a guest, and I observed that my theory as to adjuncts was
carefully put into practice, so that I hope the public will be a gainer.
… Paulus Emilius, who
was the most successful general, and best entertainer of his time, seems to
have understood this well ; for he said that it required the same sort of
spirit to manage a banquet as a battle, with this difference, that the one
should be made as pleasant to friends, and the other as formidable to enemies,
as possible.
As
the recipe for the day, I give you a fine water-zouchy from the 1830’s:
Dabs and flounders and
other small fish may be fried, or else prepared in water zouchy as follows :—Clean the different kinds of fish, and
put them altogether into the saucepan with water sufficient to cover them, a
parsley root, a bay-leaf, a couple of onions quartered, some pepper corns, and
plenty of salt. Let them boil very gently until they are done. Plaice, and even
soles, may be cooked in this way, either mixed with other fish, or alone. The
fish are put into the dish with their liquor, which forms an excellent gravy
for bread and butter. If required to be eaten with potatoes, the liquor may be
thickened with some butter rolled in flour.
This mode of dressing
fish, though very primitive, is in great favour among the most wealthy and
luxurious, at whose tables the water-zouched fish is served up accompanied by
plates of white and brown bread and butter.
The
Magazine of Domestic Economy, Volume 4 (London,1839)