Who does not wish to read of the cardoon; of that prince of vegetables, whose praises have been sung or said by all cooks and gourmands, from the fastidious Périgords and Cardellis of the French _cuisine_, down to the more homely Rundells and Glasses of our English kitchens; whose virtues are so marvellous as to be credible upon no less authority [p163] than that of the sage gastrophilists aforesaid. To restore unwonted vigour to old age, and new elasticity to youth, are the most modest of its attributes; the magical broth with which the veins of Æson were replenished by the cunning Medea, was doubtless prepared from the cardoon; and the story itself is probably a sort of figurative record of the skill of the fair enchantress in cooking this delicious vegetable, which was well known to the Grecian gastronomes under the name of κακτος; but this we throw out merely as a suggestion. Upon preparing herbs thus potent for the table, cookery has exhausted all its skill; to dress a cardoon is declared, by the highest authority in the art, to be the surest test of a skilful cook; and one of those invaluable acquirements which, to borrow the words of a writer not less celebrated for his powers of composition than of cooking, “raises cookery to the rank of the _sciences_, and its _professors_ to the title of artists.” Our good forefathers, indeed, “could not find the true manner of dressing cardoons,” and were content to eat them raw “with vinegar and oyl, pepper and salt, all of them, or some, as every one liketh for their delight;” which, considering that this vegetable is both bitter and astringent in a high degree, does not argue much for the delicacy of palate of our ancestors; little did they dream of the savoury preparations that modern art has devised by the aid of Espagnole, consommé, blancs, tammies, marking, masking, and all the mysteries of the stew-pan. Four varieties are here described, of which the Spanish cardoon is the most common, and the cardon de Tours the best. They are cultivated, like celery, in deep broad trenches, well manured and watered. When the plants are nearly full-grown, which will be about the end of October, a dry day is to be chosen for performing the operation of blanching them, which is thus effected:— “The leaves of each plant are carefully and lightly tied together with strong matting, keeping the whole upright, and the ribs of the leaves together. The plant is then bound closely round with twisted haybands, about an inch and a half in diameter, beginning at the root, and continuing to about two-thirds of its height. If the plants are intended for winter store, they must be earthed up like celery; but if to be consumed before the frosts set in, the operation of earthing up may be omitted.” [p164] III. _Accounts and Descriptions of the several Plants belonging to the genus Hoya, which are cultivated in the garden of the Horticultural Society at Chiswick_. By Mr. James Traill.