By Harvey W. Wiley, M. D.

TWO or three years ago I drove with some friends through the vineyards of Burgundy, along that hillside which, because of its great agricultural wealth, is called the Cote d'Or, the hill of gold. Late in the afternoon we drove over the crest of the hill where there were no longer vines, but undulating fields of grain and grass. At sundown, high upon a hillside, we came to a peasant's cot. The peasant with his family were at supper. They were not expecting visitors and we were not expecting to be visitors. They invited us to supper. The peasant's wife did not do as my mother used to when I was a boy, when we were at supper and the minister came into the lane. In such a case she would take away the corn mush and sorghum molasses and skimmed milk and get out the loaf of bread, the preserves and jams, and the chickens would come and lay their heads upon the block ready for the ax. All in honor of the minister. The peasant's wife did not put anything on the table she did not have there when we came in, only more of it. And such bread! the whole wheat grown in the field nearby and ground in the old-fashioned windmill in plain sight. The wheat was not deprived of all of its most important mineral ingredients by bolting and sifting. It was just what nature made it. The vegetables were crisp from the garden and the butter and milk from the spring-house nearby; and the cold lamb had never known the rigors of cold storage, but a day or two before was feeding on the aromatic grass of the hillside. The cooking was perfect. It was a feast fit for Lucullus. And this condition of affairs can be found in every part of France; good cooks are not the exceptions. They are the rule among the country people of that great country. And who has ever heard of a divorce in rural France? It is unknown. Occasionally we read of divorces in French cities but never among the peasantry of the fields. Why should anyone want to get a divorce when he is so well provided with simple and well-cooked food? There is nothing which is more conducive to tranquillity and happiness than good cooking. Unfortunately it is not considered good form to be a cook. The girls of our country are set down at a piano at six years of age and compelled to pound ivory five hours a day for fifteen years, unless in sheer desperation they should run off with the chauffeur. And when they have finished this long and expensive course someone comes along and invents a pianolo or victrola that plays better music in a minute than a girl does after fifteen years of study. She is robbed of all her glory. But suppose she had spent fifteen years in learning to cook. Who could rob her of that glory? No one. It would remain a blessing to her, her parents, her husband, and her children for her whole life.

* The special articles by Dr. Wiley herein have been written expressly for "The Pure Food Cook Book."

What we need in this country is fewer pianos and more stoves. With a good cook in every household, and preferably not a hired one, the divorce mills of the country might as well shut up; they would have nothing more to do. Domestic life would be peaceful, happy, and unbroken. We must get away from the idea that cooking is drudgery. There is no drudgery, except in the mind. The man who goes out and breaks stone evenly so that a lasting road can be built over which future generations may pass with comfort and safety is not a drudge; he is an artist. The boy who goes out into the field and plows a straight and deep furrow in which more corn will grow is not a drudge. He is an artist; and the girl who goes into the kitchen and cooks a meal that is good, that tastes well, that is properly balanced and properly served is no drudge; she is an artist. The attitude is the principal thing in this matter. If one has the spirit of the artist, the mere physical exertion which is necessary to paint the picture is no longer feared nor dreaded.

A cook book such as this will do much to stimulate the artistic spirit in the cook, and thus make her forget the warmth of the kitchen, the heat of the fire, and the manipulations necessary to success. She has before her her canvas; she is painting on it a picture; that picture is the finished meal. She has the enthusiasm of art. There is no place for the depressing sense of fatigue.

Good cooking is also one of the fundamental principles of good health. This country has an abundance of food. There is no country in the world that has so much in proportion to the population; and there are few countries, I imagine, where so large a percentage of it is spoiled in the kitchen, before it reaches the table. What an infinite blessing it would be to all the people of this country if that spoiling of the food in the kitchen could be stopped! How much of comfort, good health, and happiness that would imply. How great the economy which it would work. The cook who "knows how" is the economical cook. And the food that is properly prepared for the table is the food which in the end costs less and goes further than any other. The high cost of living would have no terrors for the good cook who liked the simple and nutritious dishes.

Good Housekeeping in its ministration, looking to the betterment of the food supply and the increasing excellence of cooking, is doing a world's service which will be only measured by the gratitude of the millions who are benefited by its work. We have Good Housekeeping stores that are selling foods approved by Good Housekeeping and the household utensils which receive the approbation of its Institute. We now want to complete that work by instituting Good Housekeeping kitchens in which the mistress of the kitchen will know the principles of nutrition as well as the technique of cooking. She will know how to select her foods for the purpose for which they are intended, namely, to restore waste, build tissue, and furnish heat and energy. Every meal will be selected for its fundamental properties and then prepared with an art which will render each component of the food more completely assimilable and useful. Thus at the same time the Good Housekeeping kitchen will minister to the taste and to the nutrition of the body. It is not necessarily scientific cooking in the strictest sense of that art, but it is rather artistic cooking in the broadest sense of that word. It is that form of equipment which will enable one to first select the foods best suited for the purpose and then manipulate them with skill to fulfill that purpose more completely.

A cook book, therefore, should be not a mere catalogue of recipes. This cook book is more than that. It is a selection of means to an end, skillfully adapted to its purpose, and made as attractive as possible. The cook who is interested in this matter sufficiently to catch the spirit of the book will find her work lessened, her joy increased, and the benefits of her ministrations enjoyed.