WEST INDIAN “HOT-POT.”

Globe, Volume III, Issue 272, 26 April 1875, Page 3

WEST INDIAN “HOT-POT.”

(National Food and Fuel Reformer.)

West Indian Hot-pot is an institution, and people who have never been fortunate enough to taste it have something to learn. Hot-pot is a wrinkle which many of our British housekeepers would do well to profit by, and with the memory green and fresh within us of the numberless occasions on which we have enjoyed ourselves right royally over the staple West Indian dish, we can only suggest that caterers might do worse than introduce it into their homes on this side of the blue water. To specify distinctly how Hot-pot is made is beyond our power; it is, as one might say, a dish “ not made, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding.” It grows like the phoenix, out of its own ashes, the offspring of decay, the glorious exhalation from refuse. Have we excited the reader’s curiosity? If so, our mission is more than half accomplished, and we may, therefore, proceed with a clear conscience to describe the modus operandl, and if any cook will deign to accept our recipe, and follow our advice, we can promise her, and those for whom she cooks, a gastronomic treat not only fit for the gods, but “ far higher tribute ” —fit for mortals. Mrs Glass begins a celebrated and oftquoted receipt for roasting bar# with the brief and simple statement —“ First catch your hare;” so, in like manner, I say, first get a pot—not an iron pot, or one of those implements of cookery only known to scientific European performers in the culinary art, but a good, old, well seasoned earthen-

ware jar, of the largest possible dimensions, a jar brown with age and well seasoned to the scented wood ashes of the tropical hearth lire. Suspend the said pot over a wood fire by a tripod, and keep the fire like the sacred flame of the vestals, only just alight but never extinct. It will thus be found that the pot will be kept just to that degree of genial warmth which may be best described as quasi-simmering; to allow it to boil is to spoil the contents, and that is not only reason but rhyme too. Lay a good foundation of fowl, game and vegetables, carefully carved and judiciously amalgamated. Between each layer of meat place fresh chilis, capsicums and fresh green peppers, with salt administered with careful hand, quantum suf. After this “pot” will take care of itself. After every meal the remains of the joints of the fowl, the game, the venison, the hare, or whatever else the piece de resistance may consist of, with its accompanying vegetables, must be duly consigned to the Hot-pot, always accompanied by the inevitable “ peppers,” while, in order to insure a proper amalgamation of the contents, the bottom of the pot must be carefully stirred with a long spoon, the simmering process in the meantime going on uninterruptedly. Possibly for a week or so, till your pot gets well seasoned, your Hot-pot may prove but at best a sorry performance, and you will be inclined to think that the West Indians have made a mistake, and that, at any rate, they have no claim to the crown of the gourmet. Later on you will begin to confess with shame your own error; the pot begins to get seasoned, the mess augments in savour, and no matter at what hour you come home, you find a good, wholesome, and appetising dish ready. In Jamaica and Barbadoes these Hot-pots are handed down as heirlooms, and the older and more highjyseasoned the receptacle, the higher the legacy is appreciated. I have known Hot-pots in which have been interred the remains of giant turkeys, fat capons, choice morsels of game which have never been disinterred to the knowledge of man —at least, in their original form. I have, however, eaten the “nett result” in the shape of a savoury mess which would have put 'to the blush the efforts of a Soyer or a Francatelli. Half the battle in dining is to have your portion hot, savoury, and, above all, quickly served, to catch the fleeting appetite and to have it satisfied. Hot-pot fulfils all these conditions, and if it is unknown on this side of the Atlantic, it is because we deem ourselves too wise to profit by the experiences of other nations, and because we prefer the highsounding titles of a Parisian menu to the homely artifices of our less civilised neighbours.