This section is from the book "Culinary Jottings", by Wyvern. Also available from Amazon: Culinary Jottings.
Allowing then, that our native cooks are, by nature, adapted to their calling, and that by judicious treatment we can develop the talent which they possess, one of the next things for consideration is our kitchen equipment, and the kind of utensils which will be found best suited for Ramasamy's use, bearing in mind the sort of dishes we shall hereafter call upon him to prepare.
In introducing novelties of European construction to the Indian cook-room it is, a sine qua non to proceed with caution. Ramasamy is intensely conservative, and a sworn foe to innovations. Perchance there are amongst my readers some who can look back with a sigh to sundry patented culinary nicknacks brought out from England, in happy anticipation of grand cook-room reforms, to India, which, misunderstood from the first, were either soon cast aside as worthless from barbarous treatment, or diverted to uses which would drive the inventors crazy to think of. I call to mind having observed an instance of this kind when staying once with a friend on the Hills. The water for my bath was brought, I noticed, in the outer vessel of a "Warren's patent cooking pot." "Yes," said my host sorrowfully when I mentioned the occurrence, "I could never prevail upon my fellows to use the thing in the kitchen, so they do what they like with it: the inner vessel makes a capital tom-tom for beating a sholah."
Left entirely alone, with articles of his own selection around him, the native cook is, however, a singularly ingenious creature. All men who have been accustomed to a nomad life under canvas - far from the busy hum of cantonments - will, I think, agree with me in this. Given a hold in the ground, and a couple of stones for her range, with a bundle of jungle sticks, a chatty or two, perhaps a degchee, and a fan, wherewithal to prepare a dinner, can you picture to yourself the face of Martha, the "thorough good cook" of an English household?
An amusing episode happened some few years ago which struck me at the time as illustrative to a degree of Rama-Nimy's opinion of the British system of cookery. I happened to be with a Regiment at Secunderabad which, for reasons connected with the antiquated barracks we occupied, was ordered to move into a standing camp. Our Colonel, an exceedingly young and fortunate officer, was a rampant soldier of the new school. His brain was ever busy with new ideas : it was even reported that he slept with "Wolseley's soldier's pocket-book" and "The Rules for Signalling in connection with Outpost duty" under his pillow. The order to march into camp delighted him. After issuing his orders concerning the geometrical lines in which he wished the tents to be pitched, not even forgetting the whitewashing of the tents' pegs, he turned his attention to the kitchens. Here was an opportunity for practically establishing a "Wolseley's field kitchen." Two officers who had recently passed successfully through the Garrison course of instruction were accordingly sent for, and, as a personal favour to the Commanding Officer, requested to go out to the camping ground, and lay out a series of broad-arrow kitchens for the Regiment. The work was done, and we marched into camp the next day. Whilst the men were busy at stables, the Colonel rode about inspecting everything; presently he came upon the neatly excavated kitchens, but, to his astonishment, found them deserted! Not a cook was to be seen! Orderlies flew to find out where on earth the men's breakfasts were being cooked, and in a few minutes, the whole corps de cuisine was discovered squatting at work more suo in a dry nullah hard by. The Colonel furiously demanded why the proper kitchens had not been used, and "all this abominable mess prevented?" Presently a cook of greater daring than his colleagues replied "What sar! that bad sense kitchin, sar, I beg your pardon: too much firewood taking: see sar this praper kitchin only." In the face of such an irresistible argument, the Colonel (albeit irritated beyond measure) was constrained to abandon his cherished project.
When presenting Ramasamy, therefore, with novel utensils, let us guard against his denouncing them as "bad sense." We must patiently show him how to use them, proving, if we possibly can, by practical illustration, the satisfactory results, saving of time, and so forth, to be gained by their means. Anything complicated should, of course, be avoided.
As far as my personal experience goes, I confess that I have found Ramasamy by no means difficult to teach.
All native cooks take readily to the mincing machine, and I find that my chef fully appreciates the vegetable cutter, root-knife, dishing-up fork, gravy strainer, wire sieve, hair sieve, colander, mortar, wire frying basket, "Warren's fish kettle and vegetable steamer," and the larding needle, which he can use easily. Larding is one of the branches of the cook's art which comes naturally to a native; as a rule also I think that they surpass Europeans in boning poultry, an operation which Martha rarely attempts.
I cannot too strongly recommend the adoption of that invaluable utensil a "bain-marie" or shallow trough, which, filled with hot-water and kept over a moderate fire, affords a hot bath in which the various little saucepans containing sauces, etc., can be set, and so kept hot without deterioration. A bain-marie complete, with a set of saucepans made to fit it, can be purchased at any hardware shop, or you can have one made to order to fit your saucepans in copper, iron, or block tin; the first material will, of course, outlast the other two.
The digester is a vessel that may be given to Ramasamy without hesitation; and he is keenly alive to the value of the stew-pan. In the matter of frying-pans he is not hypercritical: I do not think that he perceives the difference between friture-pan and an omelette-pan. He dislikes anything heavy, and generally asks for a small iron pan. I quite agree with a friend whose experience in culinary matters is great, who advocates a deep-sided, heavy iron frying-vessel, - a frying kettle, in short, rather than the ordinary frying-pan of commerce, steady over the fire on account of its own weight, - for all real friture work, and, of course, a handy vessel for saute work with a still lighter one for omelettes. The large pan he recommends can be made in any Indian bazar, and, when used in conjunction with the frying basket, will certainly be found most valuable. Like many English cooks, the native is apt to discard the gridiron and take the frying-pan for many things which ought invariably to be cooked in the former vessel: this tendency requires watching, for in many of the receipts I shall give, broiling is essential.
 
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