‘The cook knows _from experience_ that if his joint of meat be kept a certain time immersed in boiling water it will be _done_, as it is called in the language of the kitchen; but if he be asked what is done to it, or _how_ or _by what agency_ the change it has undergone has been effected—if he understands the question—it is ten to one but he will be embarrassed. If he does not understand he will probably answer without hesitation, that “_The meat is made tender and eatable by being boiled_.” Ask him if the boiling of the water be essential to the process. He will answer, “_Without doubt_.” Push him a little further by asking him whether, _were it possible_ to keep the water _equally hot_ without boiling, the meat would not be cooked _as soon_ and _as well_ as if the water were made to boil. Here it is probable he will make the first step towards acquiring knowledge by _learning to doubt_.’ In another place he points to the fact that at Munich, where his chief cookery operations were performed, water boils at 209½° (on account of its elevation), while in London the boiling-point is 212°. ‘Yet nobody, I believe, ever perceived that boiled meat was less done at Munich than at London. But if meat may without the least difficulty be cooked with a heat of 209½° at Munich, why should it not be possible to cook it with the same degree of heat in London? If this can be done in London (which I think can hardly admit of a doubt), then it is evident that the process of cookery, which is called _boiling_, may be performed in water which is not boiling hot.’ He proceeds to say, ‘I well know, from my own experience, how difficult it is to persuade cooks of this truth, but it is so important that no pains should be spared in endeavouring to remove their prejudices and enlighten their understandings. This may be done most effectually in the case before us by a method I have several times put in practice with complete success. It is as follows: Take two equal boilers, containing equal quantities of _boiling hot water_, and put into them two equal pieces of meat taken from the same carcase—two legs of mutton, for instance—and boil them during the same time. Under one of the boilers make a _small fire_, just barely sufficient to keep the water _boiling hot_, or rather just _beginning to boil_; under the other make _as vehement a fire as possible_, and keep the water boiling the whole time with the utmost violence. The meat in the boiler in which the water has been kept _only just boiling hot_ will be found to be quite as well done as that in the other. It will even be found to be much better cooked, that is to say tenderer, more juicy, and much higher flavoured.’