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Page 9
"Monsieur," he said to me, "I have spoken to you of my two rival cooks;
now is the time to justify the reputation of high discernment which I have
attributed to you in the minds of these artists.
"Alas! I am about to lose the oldest, and without doubt the most skillful,
of these masters--the illustrious Jean Rostain. It was he, sir, who, on
his arrival from Paris, two years ago, made this remarkable speech to me:
'A man of taste, Monsieur le Marquis, can no longer live in Paris; they
practice there now, a certain romantic style of cooking which will lead us
Heaven knows where!' In short, sir, Rostain is a classic; this singular
man has an opinion of his own! Well! you have just tasted in succession
two _entremets_ dishes of which cream forms the essential foundation;
according to my idea, these dishes are both a success; but Rostain's work
has struck me as greatly superior. Ah, ah! sir, I am curious to know if
you can of your own accord and upon that simple indication, assign to each
tree its fruit, and render unto C�sar what belongs to C�sar. Ah, ah, let
us see if you can!"
I cast a furtive glance at the remnants of the two dishes to which the
marquis had just called my attention, and I had no hesitation in
designating as "classic" the one that was surmounted with a temple of
cupid, and a figure of that god in polychromatic pastry.
"A hit!" exclaimed the marquis. "Bravo! Rostain shall hear of it, and his
heart will rejoice. Ah! monsieur, why has it not been my good fortune to
receive you in my house a few days sooner? I might perhaps have kept
Rostain, or, to speak more truly, Rostain might perhaps have kept me; for
I cannot conceal the fact, gentlemen hunters, that you are not in the good
graces of the old _chef_, and I am not far from attributing his departure
with whatever pretexts he may choose to color it, to the annoyance he
feels at your complete indifference. Thinking it might be agreeable to
him, I informed him, a few weeks ago, that our hunting-meetings were about
to secure him a concourse of connoisseurs worthy of his talents."
"Monsiuer le Marquis will excuse me," replied Rostain with a melancholy
smile, "if I do not share his illusions; in the first place, the hunter
devours and does not eat; he brings to the table the stomach of a man just
saved from shipwreck, _iratum ventrem_, as Horace says, and swallows up
without choice and without reflection, _gul� parens_, the most serious
productions of an artist; in the second place, the violent exercise of the
chase has developed in such guests an inordinate thirst, which they
generally slake without moderation. Now, Monsieur le Marquis is not
ignorant of the opinion of the ancients on the excessive use of wine
during meals; it blunts the taste--_ersurdant vina palatum_! Nevertheless,
Monsieur le Marquis may rest assured that I shall labor to please his
guests with my usual conscientiousness, though with the painful certainty
of not being understood."
After uttering these words, Rostain draped himself in his toga, cast to
heaven the look of an unappreciated genius, and left my study.
"I would have thought," I said to the marquis, "that you would have spared
no sacrifice to retain that great man."
"You judge me correctly, sir," replied Monsieur de Malouet; "but you'll
see that he carried me to the very limits of impossibility. Precisely a
week ago, Monsieur Rostain, having solicited a private audience, announced
to me that he found himself under the painful necessity of leaving my
service. 'Heavens! Monsieur Rostain to leave my service! And where do you
expect to go?' 'To Paris.' 'What! to Paris! But you had shaken upon the
great Babylon the dust of your sandals! The decadence of taste, the
increasing development of the romantic cuisine! Such are your own words,
Rostain!' He replied: 'Doubtless, Monsieur le Marquis; but provincial life
has bitter trials which I had not foreseen!' I offered him fabulous wages;
he refused. 'Come, my good fellow, what is the matter? Ah! I see, you
don't like the scullery-maid; she disturbs your meditations by her vulgar
songs; very well, consider her dismissed! That is not enough? Is it
Antoine, then, who is objectionable? I'll discharge him! Is it the
coachman? I'll send him away!' In short, I offered him, gentlemen, the
whole household as a holocaust. But, at all these prodigious concessions,
the old _chef_ shook his head with indifference. But finally, I exclaimed,
'in the name of Heaven, Monsieur Rostain, do explain!' 'Mon Dieu! Monsieur
le Marquis,' then said Jean Rostain, 'I must confess to you that it is
impossible for me to live in a place where I find no one to play a game of
billiards with me!' _Ma foi!_ it was a little too much!" added the
marquis, with a cheerful good-nature.
"I could not really offer to play billiards with him myself! I had to
submit. I wrote at once to Paris, and last evening a young cook arrived,
who wears a mustache and gave his name as Jacquemart (of Bordeaux). The
classic Rostain, in a sublime impulse of artistic pride, volunteered to
assist Monsieur Jacquemart (of Bordeaux) in his first effort, and that's
how, gentlemen, I was able to-day to serve this great eclectic dinner, of
which, I fear, we will alone, monsieur and myself, have appreciated the
mysterious beauties."
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