The Gourmet Bit

The man with an eye for the niceties of living invariably does a certain amount of his entertaining at home in his bachelor quarters. And if he has a real flair for it – if he is just as assured and authoritative about dining at home as he is when it comes to ordering a justright dinner from a carte du jour written in French script – he presides over the occasion himself.

This does not mean that he'll leave his date perusing his bookshelves while he copes with pots and pans in his kitchen. It does not mean – when he has a few pals over for a buffet dinner before going out for the evening – that he'll ask them to perch on kitchen stools while he mashes the potatoes. That's woman's work. But just as surely as women generally outrank men in culinary experience, so men, traditionally, dominate gourmet cooking and gourmet dining. The great chefs and the great bon vivants are testimony to it.

Whether the initial preparation of the repast is done by an occasional maid or a manservant, the master of the house will make the salad dressing on the spot, will season the sauce, will flame and flavor the crepes suzette, will bestow on every dish the final touch which gives elegance, grace and importance to informal and intimate dining. And to do so, he'll have the equipment to go with his masterful flourishes. Not for him the embellished and decorated gear that floods the shops and warms the heart of the housewife. The gourmet uses hand somely wrought, masculine gadgetry, functional ware that's fine-lined and clean-limbed, that gleams with the colors of polished metal and oiled hardwoods, man-sized gear that fits his hand as felicitously as it does its job.

With accoutrements like those shown on these pages, the gourmet's buffet dinners and weekend brunches become very personal masterpieces. They are, for the most part, one-dish meals as Thomas Mario would make them: stews, peasant soups afloat with hunks of, meat or sausage, magnificent salads, chilies, shrimps in incredible sauces, omelettes, spaghetti and meat balls – all served, supervised and given their special air by the deft hand of the gourmet host.

You will notice, too, that thanks to the aids here assembled, there's no necessity for an imperious call to the table just when one more cocktail for the girl in the picture is indicated.

Here, then, is a sampling of the kind of gear the gourmet will call his own. It is a tasteful blending of the highly modern with the proven provincial – your true gourmet would no more use an ornamented saucepan than a gas ring rather than a spirit lamp to keep his fondue hot. This is man's world of gourmandise.

From the left, on the food bar: the lidded, gleaming copper tureen with long-stemmed serving ladle stands on walnut and copper trivet with spirit lamp to keep your peasant soups, stews or curry dishes at piping serving temperature; beside it a matching double chafing dish for, for instance, stove-top pans of aluminum which slip in and out with ease. The tureen $25, the chafing dish $30. In front of the chafing dish is an elegant imported garlic press, $2. The inlaid walnut salad bowl is big and beautiful, shares its good looks with the handled salt and pepper shakers in solid walnut; $20 for the bowl and $4 for the condiment set. Individual mean-sized pepper mill of rosewood with brass finial on its top is $15. Those wine and spirit flacons hanging on their black leather thongs at the left are of porcelain, come labeled for Burgundy, white wine, red wine, brandy and sherry, give the final flavoring of foods an appropriate flourish. On the right, a hanging seasoning shelf to match. Both are Japanese imports; the bottles at $3.50 each, the seasoning shelf with jars at $13. Hanging beside the firearm print is a pair of imported German poultry shears with bamboo grips, razor sharp so you can joint a bird without mutilating crisp skin or tender meat, $8.

In the usual order: a new, copper-based Osterizer now available with fast and slow settings and a snug-fitting lid that won't go zizzing into space – just right for whirring up all manner of frappes or a never-fail hollandaise, about $55. Beside it, the Sunbeam automatic fry pan, whose dial predetermines correct cooking temperatures, makes the breakfast-after-party bit a kitchenless pleasure, about $23. For heartier fare, say a casserole, the Dutch oven imported from France by Le Creuset is ruddily rugged, $10.95. The Japanese semi-free-form oil and vinegar cruets and the hanging spice shelf above them are handsome adjuncts to the buffet's preparation, at $11 for the cruet pair, $5.50 the spice set. Alongside these – some handsome, svelte carving gear by Gerber, made entirely of fine carbon steel. Carver, slicer and long-tyned fork come nested in a walnut box (not shown) at $32.50; the incredibly long slice above the spice shelf and threatening the hanging provolone has its own walnut scabbard, $20 complete. Spanning these pages is an outsize four-compartment hors d'oeuvre or snack server which looks like satin-finished heardwood but is molded plastic, light and uirtually indestructible, $30. Nested in the third compartment are Danish hard-nylon servers, $5 the pair.

Generations of the world's great chefs have concurred that heavy copper saucepans and skillets with pure tin lining, can't be improved upon fro certain types of food preparation, thanks to their uniform heating, their ability ton maintain even temperatures, and the fact that foods rarely stick to them. As often happens with functionally evolved gear, they're also decorative as all get-out. Four such hang by their handles across these pages, from left to right: saucepan and high-walled oval skillet, both by Country Kitchen; the former is perfect for uegetables, the latter fine for shirred eggs or a prize rout, $12.50 and $21.00 respectively. Next in line is an omelette pan – reserved exclusively for that function and never scoured – by Jenza, $9.50. The big, flat disc of a skillet at the end is for crepes suzette, French or German pancakes, or blinis to be eaten with caviar; by Country Kitchen, about $16. That complicated-looking doohicky with the cups on its base is an imported Italian electric espresso machine. Load it with water and dark-roasted Italian coffee, plug it in and it generates a head of steam which is forced through the grounds to emerge as a heady brew from the twin spouts. One filling makes exactly two demitasses; serve with cognac or calvados. The machine, sans cups and cognac, $30.

Just as self-contained electric cooking ware frees buffet dining from the tyranny of the kitchen, so do electric warmers and keepers liberate host and guest from the imperative of falling to as soon as food is ready. Two such gustatory aids, in goodlooking off-white china, are shown here. The lidded chunky one is a bean pot, equally suitable for, say, curried shrimps or any other edible you want to keep hot till served. The other is a capacious coffee urn with cup-height spiggot, ideal for long, leisurely Sunday breakfasts. Nifty, too, for iced tea or hot clam broth. The vessels lift off their heating trivets. Legs are tall enough to protect any surface from heat damage; $17 for each. A matching sauce boat (not shown) is $12. That formidable monolithic hunk of hardwood standing between pot and urn is a gourmet gadget that combines eye appeal, ingenuity and usefulness. Pick it up by the base and rotate the shaft to grind pepper; turn it over to shake salt from the top, $10. Moving to the far right, the laminated hardwood chopping block with thonged handle for hanging is handy for slicing meats and fruits, doubles as a cheese server, costs $3. The wicked-looking stainless steel cleaver leaning against it is made by Dexter, $5.50. Use it to split a whole lobster. Or – dramatically– to halve an apple.

In striking and complimentary contrast to the traditional French copperware is a new line of totally modern serving equipment made of an aluminum alloy which has a soft, rich lustre not unlike that of well-handled antique sterling. The magnificent platter-server standing behind the pepper-and-salt mill typifies the functional-sculptural group. Use it to serve cold cuts, poached salmon, long-speared asparagus hollandaise, an aspic or young and tender long-leaved romaine with an oil and vinegar dressing, $36. Hanging beside the platter and sharing its modeled elegance are fork-and-spoon servers, $12 the pair. The teardrop bowl of the same material has a satisfying heft to it, despite the lightness of the alloy, because of the solid thickness of its walls. Use it for fruit, for chips, for an avocado and grapefruit salad with roquefort dressing, $25. Far right: covered casserole in a triple blend of color and texture – copper vessel, brass cover, walnut handles. A serving – not a cooking – casserole, this one's just right for parsley potatoes or a stew, $39.50.

For information on where you may purchase any of the merchandise shown on these pages, write to Janet Pilgrim, Playboy Reader Service, 232 East Ohio, Chicago 11, Illinois.