Australian Tales - Setis

Mr. Phiggs and His Christmas Breakfast.
A SEASONABLE STORY.
“GOODNESS me, Mr. Phiggs, be rational, there's a dear! Only fancy;
boiled fowls smothered in rice, currants, and onions; or curried nonsense,
fiery as red-hot cinders, for friends coming hungry and squeamish off a
steamboat, and on a Christmas morning too! You surely must be joking!
But I tell you seriously, I cannot cook an Indian breakfast, so pray do not
miscalculate my skill; and I'm sure Sally would as soon consent to cook a
horse's head. I dislike such peppery messes at any time; but at this special
season for old English cheer, I particularly disapprove of foreign
trumperies on my table. Consider again, Jacob, and don't perplex me at
this critical time, there's a good man.”
“Patience, Dolly,” said Mr. Phiggs, with a smile. “It is plain that you
know very little about Oriental fare, or you would not speak so
disparagingly of it. When I proposed to give our expected guests an
Indian breakfast, I did not suppose that you would cook it. Not at all. But
if you will tolerate my little whim, for once and away, I shall esteem it a
favour. I have a strong desire to try my skill in cookery by way of
experiment; and if you will allow me the undisturbed use of the kitchen
and the cooking utensils to-morrow morning, I think I shall be able to
remove your prejudices against foreign messes, as you call them. I
breakfasted with Captain Carraway the last time I was in Sydney, and
such a dainty meal (prepared under his own supervision) I never before
partook of. I wished you had been there to enjoy it with me, though I
know you always advocate simple diet. I procured from the Captain plain
written directions for making veal olives, curried kidneys, pillaued
chicken, savoury omelettes, milk coffee, cream potatoes, and sundry
other exquisite dishes (from recipes furnished to him by Rajah
Mulleegrubbee's chief cook); and as some of our oldest friends are
coming to spend Christmas with us, I should like to surprise them with
something out of the common way, and of my own preparation. Friend
Samson will assist me in the kitchen; and, as I do not wish to trouble
you, or either of your servants, you can lie in bed an hour later than
usual, and the cook can go for a morning walk if she likes. You, of
course, can cater for the Christmas dinner, which is the grand social
event of the year, but do let me have the pleasure of providing the
breakfast, just to see what I can do. Now, don't object, Dolly, there's a