The Chemistry of Cookery

redness, but not so the meat. So long as the surface of the meat remains moist, we cannot raise it to a higher temperature than the boiling-point of the liquid that moistens it. Above this, charring commences. A little of such charring, such as occurs to the steak or small joint during the short period of its exposure to the great heat, does no harm; it simply ‘browns’ the surface; but if this were continued during the roasting of a large joint, a crust of positively black charcoal would be formed, with ruinous waste and general detriment. As Rumford proved long ago, liquids are very bad conductors, and when their circulation is prevented by confinement between fibres, as in the meat, the rate at which heat will travel through the humid mass is very slow indeed. As few of my readers are likely to fully estimate the magnitude of this difficulty, I will state a fact that came under my own observation, and at the time surprised me. About five-and-twenty years ago I was visiting a friend at Warwick during the ‘mop,’ or ‘statute fair’—the annual slave market of the county. In accordance with the old custom, an ox was roasted whole in the open public market-place. The spitting of the carcass and starting the cookery was a disgusting sight. We are accustomed to see the neatly-cut joints ordinarily brought to the kitchen; but the handling and impaling of the whole body of a huge beast by half a dozen rough men, while its stiffened limbs were stretching out from its trunk, presented the carnivorous character of our ordinary feeding very grossly indeed. Nevertheless I watched the process, partook of some of its result, and found it good. The fire was lighted before midnight, the rotation of the beast on the horizontal spit began shortly after, and continued until the following midday, all this time being necessary for the raising of the inner parts of the flesh to the cooking temperature of about 180° Fahr. Compare this with the grilling of a steak, which, when well done, is done in