propos of certain dishes when offered to him, that he
never eats aspic except at Lord Tittup's, and that Lady Jimmy's CHEF is
the only man in London who knows how to dress--FILET EN SERPENTEAU--or
SUPREME DE VOLAILLE AUX TRUFFES.

CHAPTER XX--DINNER-GIVING SNOBS FURTHER CONSIDERED

If my friends would but follow the present prevailing fashion, I think
they ought to give me a testimonial for the paper on Dinner-giving
Snobs, which I am now writing. What do you say now to a handsome
comfortable dinner-service of plate (NOT including plates, for I hold
silver plates to be sheer wantonness, and would almost as soon think of
silver teacups), a couple of neat teapots, a coffeepot, trays, &c., with
a little inscription to my wife, Mrs. Snob; and a half-score of silver
tankards for the little Snoblings, to glitter on the homely table where
they partake of their quotidian mutton?

If I had my way, and my plans could be carried out, dinner-giving would
increase as much on the one hand as dinner-giving Snobbishness would
diminish:--to my mind the most amiable part of the work lately published
by my esteemed friend (if upon a very brief acquaintance he will allow
me to call him so), Alexis Soyer, the regenerator--what he (in his noble
style) would call the most succulent, savoury, and elegant passages--are
those which relate, not to the grand banquets and ceremonial dinners,
but to his 'dinners at home.'

The 'dinner at home' ought to be the centre of the whole system
of dinner-giving. Your usual style of meal--that is, plenteous,
comfortable, and in its perfection--should be that to which you welcome
your friends, as it is that of which you partake yourself.

For, towards what woman in the world do I entertain a higher regard than
towards the beloved partner of my existence, Mrs. Snob? Who should have
a greater place in my affections than her six brothers (three or four
of whom we are pretty sure will favour us with their company at seven
o'clock), or her angelic mother, my own valued mother-in-law?--for whom,
finally, would I wish to cater more generously than for your very humble
servant, the present writer? Now, nobody supposes that the Birmingham
plate is had out, the disguised carpet-beaters introduced to the
exclusion of the neat parlour-maid, the miserable ENTREES from the
pastrycook's ordered in, and the children packed off (as it is supposed)
to the nursery, but really only to the staircase, down which they slide