Psychological Gastronomy
“Gastro psychologist, doctor of roasts” was the honorary
title bestowed on House Restaurant proprietor Tom Murrey by the Washington Post in an 1894 article. The
reason for this accolade was Murrey’s theory on the relationship between what a
Member would eat at lunch and what legislative work he accomplished—or rather,
didn’t accomplish—afterward.
/tiles/non-collection/6/6_30__Gastronomy_In_Restuarant_print.xml
Collection of the U.S. House of Representatives
About this object
During Tom Murrey's tenure, elegant service and a lively atmosphere were the hallmarks of the House Restaurant.
In the 19th century, the
proprietorship of the House
Restaurant—now called the
Members’ Dining Room—was appointed by the Speaker, and the
position was an honor given to accomplished chefs and restaurateurs. Tom Murrey
was in charge from 1892 until 1896, at the behest of Speaker
Charles Crisp, and
he was a man of not inconsiderable repute. Nicknamed “Terrapin Tom” for his signature
recipe for terrapin stew, Murrey was also a prolific cookbook author. His
titles included
One Hundred Recipes for Preparing Eureka Salmon for the Table (1885),
Cookery for Invalids (1887)
, Luncheon (1888), and
Good Things from a Chafing Dish (1890).
The ideas posited in the latter two books came to bear during his time with the
House, and were refined into his theories on the relationship between diet and
legislative action.
/tiles/non-collection/6/6_30_Gastronomy_invalids.xml
Murrey's publication Cookery for Invalids was his most direct address of his theories on the physical and psychological effects of diet.
Murrey expressed his culinary theories in his earliest
publication,
Cookery for Invalids,
which supplied recipes and general guidelines for housekeepers caring for the
sick. The book includes considerable detail regarding the medical properties of
many foods, and the absolute necessity of good nutrition, generally. Buttermilk,
for example, is declared both “excellent for weak and delicate stomachs,” while
also having the ability to “neutralize the effects of nicotine.” Its utility is
compared to “the clearing out of a cook stove that has been clogged up with
ashes that have been sifted through every crevice and crack.” Fruits of all
kinds are cooling and therefore far more effective in reducing fevers than “the
abominable doses of salts and oil usually given for fevers.”
/tiles/non-collection/6/6_30_Gastronomy_Luncheon.xml
Luncheon covered recipes for Murrey's specialty, the midday meal, which was the primary service at the Member's Restaurant.
The chef’s love of food-related theorizing did not stop with
physical health, but soon expanded to mental health as well. In
Luncheon (1888), Murrey states that “the utilization
of the culinary odds and ends, which accumulate in the ice-box and pantry,
deserve the highest consideration; for without this it would be impossible to
please the palates of the men-folks, who, if fed on a continual diet of fresh
meats which were but once cooked, would become unbearable. Their nerves would
be shattered; and happiness, under such a condition of things, would be
impossible.” Running the House Restaurant—with its luncheon-only service and
numerous regulars—gave Tom Murrey an unprecedented research opportunity to
observe this theory in action. Murrey promoted the idea in the press with great
relish. His “library of diaries showing just what each Congressman ate on the
day that he did any remarkable thing,” Murrey believed, “will be a guide to
intelligent legislation.” The publication was intended to show “what dish led
to a magnificent forensic outburst” as well as “what infernal compounds led to
dam-fool legislation. Whoever dreams that a little thing like putting charlotte
russe on top of pickled lambs’ tongues could produce an idiotic financial
measure, or that progressive legislation that made the fame of its author
followed close upon an artistic luncheon?”
Murrey was a popular individual, known as a “great talker,”
and an enthusiastic fisherman, often organizing “piscatorial excursions to the
upper waters of the Potomac” with Members of Congress. However, personality was
no match for a party change, which came to pass in 1896, meaning a new Speaker
was in charge of naming the proprietor of the Dining Room. After leaving the
Capitol, Murrey returned to New York, running a boarding house and working as
an agent for a brand of Scotch whiskey. After a bout of alleged poor health,
Murrey committed suicide in 1900. With newspapers—“King of the Chafing Dish Dead”—the
promised volume on the lunch-legislation connection was never completed.
Sources: Cookery for Invalids; Luncheon; Washington Post, March 19, 1894; San Francisco Chronicle, May 23, 1900
