Any good force-meat may be used to stuff tomatoes; the
remains of game or poultry minced, and mixed with herbs
and bread-crumbs, seasoned and bound together with yolk
of egg, will suit the most fastidious.
Cold potatoes, if dry and mealy, may be warmed up in this
manner.
Sweet potatoes make very good potato cake.
It is better to make two or three small omelettes than one
large one. The eggs should be but slightly beaten, just long
enough to mix them, and no more; a tablespoonful of cream to
every two eggs will be found an improvement. Salt mixed with
the eggs prevents them from rising and gives the omelette a
flabby appearance; without salt your omelette will taste
38insipid; sprinkle a little salt on the omelette just before turning
out on the dish.
If small oysters are used put them in the centre of the
omelette, whole, fold and serve with sauce round it.
ROASTING.
Roasting is an excellent method of rendering food wholesome
and nourishing. Without making any great change in
the chemical properties of meat it renders it more tender and
highly flavored, while there is not so much waste of its nutritive
juices as in baking. But where can the average American
get a slice of roast beef? Our homes are not provided with
spits, bottle-jacks, Dutch ovens, and the like; and as a very
sensible writer in the New York Times stated, “ninety-nine
roasts in the United States are baked in ovens, and
there is no help for it.” I can see no possible way out of the
dilemma but to submit gracefully to baked meats for ever.
The leading hotels and restaurants overcome the difficulty
by purchasing the very best of beef, and keeping it from
eight to fifteen days in their ice-houses. Thus the excellent
quality of the beef overcomes, in a measure, the bad effects
created by the superheated volatile portions that escape from
the beef during the process of baking.
No finer, better, or sweeter piece of meat was ever tasted,
either in England or America, than the Astor House roast
beef; and the secret is in securing the best quality, and taking
proper care of it before submitting it to the oven.
Roast Beef.—The best roasting-pieces are the fore and middle
ribs and the sirloin. The chuck-ribs, although cheaper,
40are not as profitable to families, there being too much waste
in the carving of them. The ends of the ribs should be removed
from the flank, and the latter folded under the beef
and securely fastened with skewers. Rub a little salt into
the fat part; place the meat in the dripping-pan with a pint
of stock or water; baste freely, and dredge with flour half
an hour before taking the joint from the oven.
Should the oven be very hot place a buttered paper over
the meat to prevent it scorching while yet raw, in which case
it will need very little basting; or turn the rib side up towards
the fire for the first twenty minutes. The time it will
take in cooking depends entirely upon the thickness of the
joint and the length of time it has been killed. Skim
the fat from the gravy and add a tablespoonful of prepared
brown flour and a glass of sherry to the remainder.
Roast Loin of Veal.—Make an incision in the flank or skirt
of the loin of veal, and into the cavity thus made, just over
the end of the bone, put a well-flavored veal force-meat. Roll
in the flank to cover the kidney-fat, and bind it firmly with
string or tape. Place a few small veal bones with a few assorted
vegetables, cut up, in a dripping-pan; put the loin
upon this bed, add half a pint of stock or water, and set it in
the oven for twenty minutes; in the meantime work together
a tablespoonful of flour with two tablespoonfuls of melted
butter; draw the joint from the oven, baste it with the flour
and butter, return it to the oven again, and baste occasionally
until done.
Veal should be thoroughly done. When it is underdone
it is decidedly indigestible and should be avoided.
The breast of veal boned, with a layer of force-meat spread
over the inside and rolled and tightly bound, may be substituted
for loin of veal.
Mutton.—The choicest mutton in the United States comes
from the mountainous regions of Pennsylvania. The animals
are semi-domestic and almost as shy and as timid as a
deer. In 1878 Col. Duffy, one of Pennsylvania’s fish commissioners,
dined a party of English gentlemen on mountain-mutton,
41and they pronounced it the finest-flavored morsel of
venison they had ever eaten.
Roast Leg of Mutton.—Take a leg of well-kept mutton,
rub it lightly with salt, and put it in a dripping-pan with a
very little water; cut a potato in two lengthwise, and set
it under the leg; baste with a little good dripping at first,
and when within twenty minutes of being done, dredge it
with flour to get it frothed. Turn the joint two or three
times while cooking. Time, about a quarter of an hour to
the pound.
Loin of Mutton.—Follow the directions given for roast leg
of mutton, but trim off all unnecessary fat, cover the joint
with paper until within twenty minutes of its being done,
then remove, baste, and flour slightly; serve with currant-jelly.
If properly cooked and served hot it is a royal dish, but
if the fat is not turned to account, a very expensive one.
Lamb.—Put a four or five pound joint of lamb in a dripping-pan
with a gill of stock or water; salt and pepper;
roll two ounces of butter in a very little flour, divide it
into small pieces, and add it here and there upon the
meat; set the pan in a moderate oven, and baste frequently
until done.
Skim the fat from the gravy, and serve with the lamb; or
serve mint sauce with the joint.
Mint Sauce.—Wash the sprigs of mint, let them dry on a
towel, strip off the leaves, and chop them very fine; put in
a sauce-boat with a cupful of vinegar and four lumps of
sugar; let it stand an hour, and before serving stir all together.
Mint sauce, if bottled, will keep for some time, and be
just as good, if not better, than it was the first day.
Saddle of Lamb.—A saddle of lamb is a dainty joint for a
small party. Sprinkle a little salt over it, and set it in
the dripping-pan, with a few small pieces of butter on the
meat; baste it occasionally with tried-out lamb-fat; dredge
42a little flour over it a few minutes before taking from the
oven. Serve with the very best of currant-jelly, and send to
table with it a few choice early vegetables. Mint sauce may
be served with the joint, but in a very mild form.
Pork.—Pork, more than any other meat, requires to be
chosen with the greatest care. The pig, from its gluttonous
habits, is particularly liable to disease; and if killed and
eaten when in an unhealthy condition, those who partake of
it will probably pay dearly for their indulgence. Dairy-fed
pork is the best; and knowing this fact, a number of our
first-class hotels raise their own pork on farms connected
with their country residences. Among them may be mentioned
the Continental Hotel, Philadelphia; the Astor, Union
Square, Sturtevant, Hoffman, Fifth Avenue, Windsor, and
several other leading hotels in New York City. We are indebted
to Chas. Lamb for the history of roast pig. In his
essays he says: “The art of roasting, or rather broiling (which
I take to be the elder brother), was accidentally discovered in
the manner following: The swineherd Ho-ti, having gone
out into the woods one morning, as his manner was, to collect
mast for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his eldest
son, Bo-bo, a great, lubberly boy, who, being fond of playing
with fire, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw,
which, kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every
part of their poor mansion till it was reduced to ashes.
Together with the cottage, what was of much more importance,
a fine litter of new farrowed pigs, no less than
nine in number, perished. Bo-bo was in the utmost consternation,
as you may think, not so much for the sake of
the tenement—which his father and he could easily build up
again with a few dry branches, and the labor of an hour or
two, at any time—as for the loss of the pigs. While he was
thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his
hands, an odor assailed his nostrils unlike any scent which
he had before experienced. What could it proceed from?
Not from the burnt cottage; he had smelt that before. Indeed,
this was by no means the first accident which had occurred
43through the negligence of this unlucky firebrand.
A premonitory moistening at the same time overflowed his
nether lip. He knew not what to think. He next stooped down
to feel the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. He burnt
his fingers, and to cool them he applied them in his booby
fashion to his mouth. Some of the crumbs of the scorched
skin had come away with his fingers, and for the first time
in his life (in the world’s, indeed, for before him no man
had known it) he tasted—crackling! Again he felt and
fumbled at the pig. It did not burn him so much now;
still, he licked his fingers from a sort of habit. The truth
at length broke into his slow understanding that it was the
pig that smelt so and the pig that tasted so delicious; and
surrendering himself up to the new-born pleasure, he fell to
tearing up whole handfuls of the scorched skin, with the
flesh next it, and was cramming it down his throat in his
beastly fashion when his sire entered amid the smoking
rafters, and, finding how affairs stood, began to rain blows
upon the young rogue’s shoulders as thick as hailstones,
which Bo-bo heeded not any more than if they had been
flies. The tickling pleasure which he experienced in his lower
regions had rendered him quite callous to any inconveniences
he might feel in those remote quarters. Bo-bo’s scent, being
wonderfully sharpened since morning, soon raked out
another pig, and, fairly rending it asunder, thrust the
lesser half by main force into the fists of Ho-ti, still shouting
out, ‘Eat, eat! Eat the burnt pig, father! Only taste!’
It is needless to state that both father and son despatched
the remainder of the litter. Bo-bo was strictly enjoined not
to let the secret escape. Nevertheless strange stories got
about; it was observed that Ho-ti’s cottage was burnt down
now more frequently than ever. As often as the sow farrowed,
so soon was the house of Ho-ti seen to be in a blaze.
At length they were watched, the terrible mystery discovered,
and father and son summoned to take their trial at Peking,
then an inconsiderable assize town. Evidence was given,
the obnoxious food itself produced in court, and verdict
about to be pronounced, when the foreman of the jury
44begged that some of the burnt pig of which the culprit
stood accused might be handed into the box. He handled
it, and they all handled it; and burning their fingers as
Bo-bo and his father had done before them, and nature
prompting to each of them the same remedy, against the face
of all the facts and the clearest charge which judge had ever
given, to the surprise of the whole court, townsfolk, strangers,
reporters (they had Howards and Raymonds in those days),
and all present, without leaving the box, or any manner of
consultation whatever, they brought in a simultaneous
verdict of not guilty.”
Dr. Kitchiner on Pork.—“Take particular care it be done
enough. Other meats underdone are unpleasant, but pork is
absolutely uneatable; the sight of it is enough to appall the
sharpest appetite, if its gravy has the least tint of redness.
Be careful of the crackling; if this be not crisp, or if it be
burned, you will be scolded.”
The Turkey.—The turkey, says Brillat-Savarin, “is the
largest, and, if not the most delicate, at least the most
savory of domestic poultry. It enjoys the singular advantage
of assembling around it every class of society. When
our farmers and wine-growers regale themselves on a winter’s
evening, what do we see roasting before the kitchen fire,
close to which the white-clothed table is set? A turkey!
When the useful tradesman or the hard-worked artist invites
a few friends to an occasional treat, what dish is he
expected to set before them? A nice roast turkey stuffed
with sausage-meat and Lyons chestnuts. And in our highest
gastronomical society, when politics are obliged to give
way to dissertations on matters of taste, what is desired,
what is awaited, what is looked out for at the second
course? A truffled turkey. In my ‘Secret Memoirs’ I
find sundry notes recording that on many occasions its restorative
juice has illumined diplomatic faces of the highest
eminence.”
Now, the average American could not be induced to eat a
turkey stuffed with sausage-meat; he would naturally say
45that if the useful tradesman “or the hard-working artist”
experienced any pleasure over such a compound, he was welcome
to it; to him sausage-meat was too suggestive of pork
and—mystery. But the Lyons chestnuts—ah! yes, that will
do, for he has tasted chestnut stuffing and has learned to
like it. A dissertation on truffles, while waiting for the
“truffled turkey” to be served, is all that is necessary to
make him say he is passionately fond of them in any form,
otherwise he would be apt to ask the waiter to remove the
dressing from his plate, “as it was full of small pieces of
charcoal” (an actual occurrence).
Roast Turkey.—Singe the bird, and in drawing it preserve
the heart, gizzard, and liver; remove the gall-bag from the
liver, and be very careful not to break it, as if any of the
liquid touches the bird no amount of washing will remove
the bitter taste. Cut off the neck close to the body, and before
doing so push back the skin of the neck so that sufficient
may be left on to turn over the back; remove a part of
the fat adhering to the skin; split the breast-bone from the
inside, or place several folds of cloth on the high breast-bone
and break and flatten it a little with a rolling-pin to make
the bird look plump. Fill the breast and body with stuffing;
sew up the opening with coarse thread; turn the neck-skin
over the back and fasten it; truss the legs close to the breast,
the wings turn over the back, using skewers or twine to hold
them in proper position. Put the turkey in the dripping-pan
with a little hot water, dredge it with flour, and lay a few
small pieces of butter upon it, and the feet, scalded and
scraped, under it. Baste frequently. Time, from two to three
hours, according to the size of the bird.
Should he prove to be of doubtful age and rich in spurs
and scaly feet, parboil him. Put him in a saucepan or pot,
cover with cold water, add a teaspoonful of salt, and when
the water comes to a boil take out the bird and dry it well
before stuffing it.
Chestnut Stuffing.—Roast a pint of chestnuts and peel off
the outer and inner skin; weigh them, and simmer half a pound
46of them for twenty minutes in as much veal gravy as will
cover them; drain and let them cool; then pound them in a
mortar with four ounces of butter, three ounces of bread-crumbs,
a trifle of grated lemon-peel and powdered mace,
salt, and a pinch of cayenne; bind the mixture with the yolks
of three eggs.
Chestnuts roasted or boiled may be added to almost any
stuffing for fowl, etc., and give general satisfaction. I once
made a stuffing of chestnuts, apple-sauce, bread-crumbs, and
the proper seasoning for a ’possum, and all who tasted of it
pronounced it a dainty dish. One of the party, Dr. H——,
never tires of talking about “that ’possum with the chestnuts.”
Oyster Stuffing.—Remove the heart (or what some call the
eye) from two dozen oysters, mince them finely, pound them
to a paste, and mix with them five ounces of bread-crumbs, an
ounce of butter, the grated rind of half a lemon, a tablespoonful
of chopped parsley, a pinch of cayenne, an even teaspoonful
of salt, and half a teaspoonful of pepper. When well
mixed bind the mixture with the yolk of an egg and a small
quantity of the oyster liquid added gradually.
Bread Stuffing.—Grate sufficient bread to fill the bird; moisten
it with milk, and season with salt, pepper, sweet marjoram,
and the grated rind of one lemon. Add a tablespoonful
of butter, and bind the mixture with yolk of egg. Add a
few raw whole oysters, if desired.
Roast Capon.—They should be managed in the same way
as turkeys, and served with the same sauces. I cannot quite
come to the conclusion that a roast capon is equal in flavor to
one boiled and served with egg sauce.
Roast Chicken.—Singe your chickens and truss them carefully.
Broilers, as they are called, are better without stuffing,
unless they are very large. Season with salt, put small
bits of butter over the meat, and place them in the pan with
a little water or veal stock; baste occasionally and dredge
47with flour before taking from the oven. A few tarragon
leaves with the sauce are acceptable.
A spring chicken cooked in any style is not to be despised
by any means, but I quite agree with that appreciative epicure,
Mr. Sam Ward, when he said:
“To roast spring chickens is to spoil ’em;
Just split ’em down the back and broil ’em.”
Roast Pigeon.—Raise the skin from the breast-bones of the
pigeons with your finger; make a small quantity of finely-flavored
stuffing, and stuff it between the skin and flesh, using
care not to break the skin. Fasten a long, thin slice of
bacon over the breasts of the birds with toothpicks; put them
in a dripping-pan with a little water, and dredge with flour.
When done remove the bacon, set them neatly around the
edge of a dish, fill the centre with new green peas or Godillot
French peas, and serve. (A favorite dish of the members
of the Club of Lindenthorpe, on the Delaware.)
Roast Domestic Duck.—Americans, as a rule, do not take
kindly to domestic duck, owing to its peculiar flavor and
richness, and also to the fact of the bird being usually accompanied
with a very highly-seasoned onion stuffing. Nevertheless,
a young domestic duck stuffed with a bread stuffing
seasoned with salt, pepper, sage, and a suspicion of onion, is
a dish that should often appear upon the tables of our
American families. A pair of ducklings with no other stuffing
than an onion placed inside the birds while roasting, and
removed before serving, will make a splendid dinner for a
family of five or six. Serve with apple-fritters or apple-sauce.
Roast Goose.—Singe, draw, and truss the goose, and, if an
old one, parboil it. The best stuffing for a goose is a sage-and-onion
stuffing. The way in which this is made must depend
upon the taste of those who have to eat it. If a strong
flavor of onions is liked the onion should be chopped raw.
If this is not the case they should be boiled in one or two
waters, and mixed with bread-crumbs, powdered sage, salt
48and pepper, nutmeg, and two small apples chopped fine; fill
the bird with the stuffing, sew it up with coarse thread,
sprinkle salt over it, and set it in a pan with a little warm
water; baste frequently, and do not take it from the oven
until thoroughly cooked.
Ham a la Russe.—If the ham be hard and salty soak it for
several hours. If a fresh-cured Ferris ham it will not need
soaking. Trim and cut away all the rusty parts, and cover
it with a coarse paste of flour and water half an inch
thick, and fasten it securely to prevent the juice escaping.
Time, from three to four hours, according to size of the ham.
Remove the paste and skin while the ham is hot, cover the
fat with a sugar paste (see boiled ham) moistened with port,
and return it to the oven a few minutes to brown.
The Continental Hotel, Philadelphia, makes a specialty of
Ham à la Russe, and it is a splendid dish served with
champagne sauce.
Canvas-Back Duck.—Pluck, draw, and singe the duck; wipe
out the blood from the inside with a clean towel; cut off the
head and neck, and put them in the body of the duck, allowing
the head to protrude. Sprinkle a little celery-salt over
the breast, with a bit of butter; put it on a small buttered
pan, and set it in the oven for seventeen minutes. Serve
with currant-jelly.
A few outer stalks of celery placed inside the duck will
improve its flavor.
A red-head duck stuffed with grated bread, chopped celery,
seasoning, and mixed with yolk of egg, will taste very much
like a canvas-back.
A blue-winged teal duck is very nice broiled. Cut it down
the back, brush a little melted butter over it, and broil, keeping
the inner part of the duck to the fire most of the
time. To roast a teal place a strip of bacon over the breast
and set it in the oven for fifteen minutes.
Roast Venison.—Take a leg of well-kept venison, wipe it
thoroughly, rub a little salt over it, and dredge with flour.
49Place it in a dripping-pan with the ragged pieces you have
trimmed off of it, and a little water or wine. Put small bits
of butter here and there over the meat, set it in the oven, and
baste frequently till done. If the leg is not very fat it is a
good plan to lard it with strips of bacon or pork. Serve
with currant-jelly, and don’t forget the hot plates.
I am not a lover of venison à l’Anglaise, for I do not fancy
the flour paste daubed over the meat as most English cooks
prepare it, though the buttered paper is an advantage when
cooking large joints of game.
Roast Prairie Chicken.—The bird being a little strong,
and its flesh when cooked a little dry, it should be either
larded or wide strips of bacon or pork placed over its breast.
A mild seasoned stuffing will improve the flavor of old
birds. Dust a little flour over them, baste occasionally,
and serve.
Pheasants may be managed in the same manner.
Roast Quail.—Pluck and draw the birds, rub a little butter
over them, tie a strip of bacon over the breasts, and set
them in the oven for twenty to twenty-five minutes.
Roast Woodcock.—Pluck the bird carefully, do not cut
off the head or draw the trail; punch a few holes in the
back of the bird with a fork, and lay it in the pan on a piece
of buttered toast. A little salt is all the seasoning required.
Time, twenty minutes. A woodcock is the only gamebird
I send to table without currant-jelly; its own fine
flavor needs no bush.
Roast Snipe.—Pluck and draw the snipe, preserving the
trail and head; tie a thin strip of bacon over the breast;
chop up the trail and spread it on buttered toast (one slice
for each bird); lay the birds in the pan with the toast between
them, and roast twenty minutes. Remove the bacon,
place the birds on the toast, and serve.
Rail-Birds.—Rail-birds are decidedly inferior to either
snipe or woodcock. They should be skinned, as much of
50their rankness lies in the skin. The trail is a trifle too
strong for the average American palate. They make a very
good pie; manage them as you would snipe for roasting,
broiling, etc.
Reed-Birds.—These delicious “lumps of sweetness,” as
they are appropriately called, are always acceptable, but to
thoroughly appreciate a reed-bird dinner one must mingle
with the gunners on the Delaware River as guest or member
of one of the many clubs whose houses are situated
within a few hundred yards from the hunting-grounds.
After the judge’s decision as to who has high boat, the
birds are plucked (and, at some of the club-houses, drawn),
arranged neatly in a dripping-pan with bits of fresh country
butter between them. They are allowed to cook on
one side a few minutes, and with a long-handled spoon are
turned over to brown the other side. A little salt is added,
and they are then placed upon a hot platter en pyramide and
the gravy poured over them; they are then sent to table
with fried chip potatoes. The scene that follows baffles description.
Not a voice is heard, “at least as long as the birds
last.” The painful silence is only broken by the sounds of
crumbling bones between the teeth of the assemblage, and
an occasional More birds, Mr. Caterer! from that prince of
gourmets, Mayor S——.
Reed-Birds a la Lindenthorpe.—On “Ladies’ Day” the
members of this club are more particular than on “members’
day.” They prepare the birds by drawing the trail
and removing the heads; they then take large sweet
or Irish potatoes, cut them in two, scoop out the insides,
and put an oyster or a small piece of bacon inside of each
bird, and put the birds inside the potato, tie them up with
twine, and bake until the potatoes are done. The common
twine is then removed and the potatoes are tied with a narrow
piece of white or colored tape, in a neat bow-knot, and sent
to table on a napkin.
SALADS.
51
There is not a dish in the gastronomic vocabulary that
varies in composition more than a salad. And the reasons
for it are many. Among them may be mentioned climatic
influences and the personal habits of individuals. The individual
who lives well, and who considers a meal imperfect
without a wine or malt beverage, will sooner or later learn
to use condiments to such an extent as to alarm the more
temperate at table. A salad prepared for the majority, he
will tell you, cloys on his palate; and, after the first mouthful
he resorts to cayenne and vinegar to “tone up” the
salad to suit his taste. After this ungenerous act the close
observer will notice confusion upon the face of the salad-composer,
who felt confident that he had prepared a salad to
suit the taste of the most fastidious. But my friend the
salad-mixer should not get offended; he should keep in
view one fact—that a palate abused by the constant use of
tobacco and other stimulants requires more sharp and pungent
seasoning than one accustomed to these things only in
moderation, and that a strictly temperate person requires
less of condiments than either of them.
The dyspeptic’s case is entirely different. He will complain
of a salad in any form, accusing the oil of causing all
his trouble. But he is wrong. Let him stop flooding his
food with liquids that only dilute and weaken the gastric
juices of the stomach and he will soon be rid of dyspepsia
and learn to love salads as much as other people. The
habit of washing down each mouthful of food with liquids
is a deplorable one, and the person that does it invites dyspepsia
by so doing. Persons who are in the habit of eating
salads late at night, and who complain of indigestion next
morning, will find it to their advantage to add half a teaspoonful
of chicken pepsin to each pint of Mayonnaise; by
so doing digestion is assisted, and everyone will feel very
much better next day.
In catering for families I invariably add pepsin to the
dressing, but until now have kept it a secret, not liking the
52idea of being accused of mixing medicine with the food.
Nevertheless I have been amply rewarded by receiving more
orders than I could personally attend to.
The following letter will explain itself:
Sharpless & Sons, 801 to 807 Chestnut St.,
Philadelphia, March 7, 1879.
Mr. Murrey, Continental Hotel:
Dear Sir: Please send two quarts of chicken salad
manipulated by yourself; the last we had prepared by you
left a pleasant recollection. Send up promptly at five
o’clock, and oblige,
Lettuce Salad.—Take a good-sized head of lettuce and pull
the leaves apart. Wash them a moment in a little water,
then shake off the water and dry the leaves in a napkin by
taking hold of the four corners and shaking it. Examine
them carefully, wipe off all grit, and reject all bruised leaves;
place them in a salad-bowl large enough to dress them
in nicely without scattering a part of them over the table.
Mix one salt-spoonful of salt, one salt-spoonful of fresh
ground pepper, and a dust of cayenne with a tablespoonful
of oil in a salad spoon; pour this over the lettuce, and add
two more tablespoonfuls of oil; next toss the salad lightly
with a salad spoon and fork, and, lastly, add a tablespoonful
of vinegar; toss it gently once or twice and send to table.
To be eaten at once. Never cut lettuce. Should you wish to
divide the leaves tear them apart gently. But it is not
always necessary to tear the leaves, should they appear
too large to eat gracefully. With the assistance of your
knife you can wrap the leaf round the end of your fork so
as to make a small ball of it, and eat it with a little more
elegance than your neighbor, who is trying his level best
to get the leaf into his mouth edgeways.
Plain French Dressing.—A plain French dressing is made
of salt, pepper, oil, and vinegar, and nothing else. Three
tablespoonfuls of oil to one of vinegar, salt-spoon heaping
full of salt, an even salt-spoonful of pepper mixed with a
little cayenne.
53Plain English Dressing.—Same as plain French dressing,
with a teaspoonful of made English mustard added.
Bacon Dressing.—Cut half a pound of bacon fat into slices,
then into very small pieces, and fry them until the oil extracted
is a light brown; remove the pan from the fire
and add the juice of a lemon, one wineglassful of strong vinegar,
a salt-spoonful of pepper, and pour it over the salad with
the pieces of bacon. A very nice dressing when you cannot
get oil, etc.
Summer Mayonnaise.—Chop up the yolk and white of a
hard-boiled egg very fine, and sprinkle it over a salad. Mix
a plain French dressing in a cold soup-plate, and pour over
the egg and salad, and mix all together.
Sauce Vinaigrette.—Mix a plain French dressing, and add
to it a quarter of an onion chopped fine, a teaspoonful of
chopped parsley or pickle.
Don’t like the onion? Then add a few Godillot capers.
Mayonnaise Sauce.—Work the yolks of two raw eggs to a
smooth paste, and add two salt-spoonfuls of Royal Table Salt,
half a salt-spoonful of cayenne, a salt-spoonful of dry mustard,
and a teaspoonful of oil; mix these ingredients thoroughly
and add the strained juice of half a lemon. Take the remainder
of half a pint of Virgin olive-oil and add it gradually,
a teaspoonful at a time, and every fifth teaspoonful
add a few drops of lemon-juice until you have used two
lemons and the half-pint of oil.
There are almost as many ways of making a Mayonnaise
sauce as there are of cooking eggs.
Mayonnaise Sauce, No. 2.—Rub the yolks of three hard-boiled
eggs with the yolk of one raw egg to a smooth paste;
add a heaping teaspoonful of salt, two salt-spoonfuls of white
pepper, and two salt-spoonfuls of made mustard; mix thoroughly
and work a gill of oil gradually into the mixture, alternated
with a teaspoonful of tarragon vinegar until you
have used three tablespoonfuls of vinegar. Should the sauce
appear too thick add a wineglassful of cream gradually.
54Lobster Salad.—Tear the meat of the lobster into shreds with
two forks; remove the eggs (if a hen lobster) from the fins;
scrape out all the green fat from the shell and set it aside.
Prepare for making a Mayonnaise by working a tablespoonful
of the fat into a smooth paste; let this green fat, with the yolk
of one raw egg and one hard-boiled egg, be the basis of your Mayonnaise;
in all other particulars follow instruction for Mayonnaise
sauce. When complete mix the lobster meat with
three tablespoonfuls of the sauce. Cover the bottom of a
dish or compot with lettuce (the large leaves tear in two),
put a layer of lobster upon it; next add a layer of celery cut
into narrow-inch strips, and another layer of lobster; arrange
it neatly on the dish; sprinkle the eggs or the chopped
coral on the lettuce round the edges; pour the sauce
over the meat, garnish with lobster-legs, and serve.
Somebody sent to the Washington Republic’s correspondent,
“G. H. B.,” while he was laid up in Providence hospital
with the gout, a very fine lobster, and this is what he did
with it: “Now, I’ll tell you about that lobster. I had him
laid away tenderly in the ice-chest, and directed him to appear
at dinner with some leaves of lettuce and a raw egg.
The yolk of that egg I mingled, with slow, deliberate revolutions
of a fork, with mustard, red pepper, salt, and oil.
When the paste was thick enough to take up on the end of
the fork like dough I thinned it—‘cut it’ is technical—with
vinegar, and there was my dressing. I planted a table facing
the snow-storm, at which I mocked and jeered in a temperature
of seventy degrees Fahrenheit. Then did I disrobe
the ‘Cardinal of the Seas’ (you remember the Frenchman
who applied that to lobsters, thinking they came from the
ocean red?) of his vestments, and by the aid of a long pickle-spoon
placed all that was in him on the plate. His legs I
chewed up. Then I ate him, and watched the many industrious,
hard-working fathers of families trudging by in the snow,
who had no lobster, and couldn’t have dressed him if they
had. Then I finished up on some sponge-cake and custard,
ate two apples with a sprinkle of salt, lit my pipe, and in its
smoke framed beautiful porcelain figures engraven with
55Chinese characters and Hindoo idols. That’s what I did
with that lobster. He was a prime one and very much interested
the Sisters.”
Chicken Salad.—Cut up a cold boiled chicken into neat
strips or pieces, and mix with it an equal quantity of celery.
Cut the celery-stalks into inch pieces, and cut each piece
into long strips; mix them together with a few spoonfuls of
Mayonnaise; arrange neatly upon a dish garnished with lettuce,
parsley, or hard-boiled egg, pour the remainder of the sauce
over the meat, and serve.
Veal Salad.—Boil a nice lean piece of veal with a chicken
or turkey, saving the water in which they were boiled to
make a soup, and serving the fowl for dinner with egg or
oyster sauce. When cold cut it up into neat strips, mix it
with celery or lettuce, pour Mayonnaise over it, and serve.
The custom of pickling the pieces, etc., of fowl before mixing
them in a salad does not take well with Americans.
Herring Salad.—Soak four Holland herrings in water or
milk for three hours; then cut them up into neat, square pieces
and set them aside; cut up into slices nearly three quarts of
boiled potatoes while they are hot, and pour over them Rhine
wine enough to moisten them; cover close, and when cold add
the herrings and the yolks of four hard-boiled eggs chopped
fine; crush a dozen whole peppers in a napkin, add to the
salad, and mix. If milt herrings are used pound the milt
to a paste, moisten it with vinegar, and pour over the salad.
If roe herring are used, separate the eggs neatly and
sprinkle them over the salad, and serve.
I know a number of my German friends who will say,
“Ah! that is not a herring salad.” Where are the apples, the
capers, beets, pickles, etc.? But the only answer I can make
them is that the majority of our German brethren make an
Italian or a Russian salad and call it a herring salad.
Potato Salad.—Cut up three quarts of boiled potatoes,
while hot, into neat pieces, and add to them a tablespoonful
of chopped parsley, a tablespoonful of chopped onion, a teaspoonful
56of pepper, and one of salt; add a cupful of oil,
and mix; then add a cupful of warm stock, a wineglassful of
vinegar (from the mixed-pickle bottle), mix the ingredients
together carefully, and do not break the potato any more than
is absolutely necessary; set it in the ice-box, and when cold
serve by placing a leaf of lettuce on a side-dish, and put two
spoonfuls of the salad upon the lettuce. The onion and parsley
may be omitted, and boiled root celery added, or a little
stalk celery chopped fine. You cannot make a perfect potato
salad with cold boiled potatoes. Most cook-books recommend
them, but that soggy, peculiar taste cannot be removed
or destroyed by all the condiments in the cruet-stand. A
salad prepared while the potatoes are hot will look more appetizing
and will keep three or four days, while cold boiled
potatoes will turn a black, uninviting color, and turn sour
the second day.
Turnip Tops.—When turnips placed in the cellar begin to
sprout they are usually thrown away, but the housekeeper
of experience will tell you that a bushel of turnips will furnish
her family with a salad all winter, and a very good one if
properly prepared.
Place the bushel of turnips in a dark, warm cellar to sprout,
and when the sprouts are three or four inches long cut them
off; pick the leaves from the stems, and pour hot water over
them; let them remain in the hot water a moment, then
plunge them into cold water; place the sprouts in the colander
to drain off all the water, and send to table with a
plain dressing or bacon dressing poured over them.
Asparagus Salad.—Boil the asparagus, and take it from the
hot water and plunge it into cold water to give it firmness;
drain off the water, and send to table with sauce Vinaigrette
or plain French dressing.
Hop Sprouts.—The hop-growers pull up all but two or three
sprouts from a hill of hops, and throw them away; the few
that remain in the hill are supposed to do duty as pole-climbers.
Gather a small basketful of the rejected sprouts; take
57them home; boil them in salted water a few minutes, then
plunge them into cold water; drain off all the water, and
serve with a plain French dressing, bacon dressing, or sauce
Vinaigrette.
If you eat asparagus you will like hop sprouts.
Cucumber Salad.—Peel and slice the cucumbers as thin as
possible; put the slices in salted water five minutes, then
draw off the water; cover them with vinegar, half a teaspoonful
of pepper, and salt if necessary.
Cucumber and Tomato Salad.—Peel and slice a five-inch
cucumber into very thin slices; put them in a bowl with half
a teaspoonful of salt and two tablespoonfuls of vinegar; set
it aside and mix a plain English dressing.
Take one large or two small-sized tomatoes, scald them a
moment, remove the skin and put them in cold water a few
minutes to cool; line the salad-bowl with lettuce, drain the
cucumbers from the pickle and put them in the bowl; wipe
the tomatoes and cut them into slices; put them on top of
the cucumber, pour the dressing over it, and serve.
Office Western Union Telegraph Company, }
Harrisburg, Penn., April 16, 1879. }
Mr. Murrey, Caterer Continental Hotel, Philadelphia:
Send by express, to-morrow, one hundred Murrey salad
sandwiches.
Murrey’s Salad Sandwich.—Cut up four ounces of breast of
boiled chicken and four ounces of tongue, place them in a
mortar, and pound them to a paste; add two salt-spoonfuls
of celery-salt, a pinch of cayenne, a teaspoonful of anchovy
paste, and four tablespoonfuls of Mayonnaise; put the mixture
on a cold dish, and set it aside.
Take a few neat leaves of lettuce, dip each leaf in a little
tarragon vinegar, shake it, and place it on a slice of bread;
spread a layer of the prepared meat over the lettuce, then
another leaf of lettuce over the meat, and the other slice of
58bread, and your sandwich is made. Trim off the crust, cut
each sandwich in two, and fold each piece neatly in confectionery
(oiled) paper.
Ham and veal make a nice salad sandwich. The meat may
be spread on the bread and the lettuce in the centre, if preferred.
Muskmelon Salad.—Should you be so unfortunate as to
receive an insipid, over-ripe melon, do not send it from the
table, but scoop it out on your plate with a spoon, pour a
French dressing over it, and you will thank me for the suggestion.
Alligator-Pear Salad.—This tropical fruit, that tastes
something like our chestnuts, is beginning to find favor
among us, but care should be used in selecting the fruit. The
green colored fruit is the best; the black, over-ripe fruit is
useless. Cut the pear in two, remove the large seed, cut
away the outer rind, then cut the fruit into strips and season
with a salt-spoonful of salt, two tablespoonfuls best Virgin
olive-oil, a teaspoonful of tarragon vinegar—nothing else.
Salt.—Of all the condiments now in use salt is the most
essential. The health of every individual depends upon it,
and it is as much required as food or drink; therefore the
salt question is an important one to families. Do not buy
salt so fine as to cake in the salt-cellar, for it is almost
useless; nor use a very coarse salt; a happy medium is
the thing. What is known to the trade as Royal Table Salt
is the proper fineness and best adapted for hotels and family
use.
Mushrooms.—I have purposely avoided introducing mushrooms
into my receipts on account of the expense attached,
but where the expense is only a secondary consideration they
may be used indiscriminately. Of the French canned mushrooms
the A. Godillot’s brand gives the best satisfaction, being
put up and sealed at the source of supply, and, therefore,
their natural flavors are preserved. Our field mushrooms are
very nice when fresh, cooked in any form. To distinguish
59them from the poisonous fungi, “A Constant Reader,” writing
to the London Times, says: “I venture to send you a
simple test of the mushroom, which I have practised for many
years, and for which I am indebted to an old herbalist. Before
peeling the mushroom pass a gold ring backwards and
forwards on the skin of the mushroom; should the bruise
thus caused turn yellow or orange color the mushroom is
poisonous, but otherwise it is quite safe. I have tried repeated
baskets of mushrooms in this way, some turning yellow
and others retaining the usual color, though in all
other respects to all appearance the same.”
Forney’s Progress on mushrooms:
He saw a fellow gathering mushrooms, and he knew they
were the poisonous kind.
“Take care,” he said, “those mushrooms are poisonous.”
“Oh! that makes no difference,” replied the man. “I am
not going to eat them; I’m gathering them for market.”
The Mystery of making Loaf Bread—A Trustworthy
Receipt.—“Loaf bread,” once said an experienced housekeeper
to us, “interferes with the salvation of more housekeepers
than any other one thing in the world.” This was
probably an extravagant statement, yet to the country housewife
who cannot turn to a convenient bakery the duty of
breadmaking is too often a heavy cross—a sort of hit-or-miss
experiment. Heavy, sour bread is far more general than the
opposite, and this is trying to both the digestions and to the
tempers of the family who eat it. Yet there is no reason
for this; there is a philosophy of breadmaking as of everything
else, and certain causes accomplish certain results.
Therefore we are glad to be able to give a receipt from a
practical housekeeper whose bread never fails: To make two
quarts of bread or rolls take four or five nice, large Irish
potatoes, peel and cut them up, and put them to boil in just
enough water to cover them. When done mash smooth in
the same water, and when cool, not cold, add a half-teacupful
of yeast—or, if you use compressed yeast, the sixth part of
a cake dissolved in tepid water—a dessert-spoonful of sugar, a
60little salt, a tablespoonful of lard, and a pint of flour. Mix
together lightly. This should be very soft and quite sticky.
Set by in a covered vessel in a warm place to rise. In two
or three hours it will be risen, and should look almost like
yeast, full of bubbles. Now work in the rest of your two
quarts of flour, and, if necessary, add a little cold water.
The dough should be rather soft and need not be kneaded
more than half an hour. Set to rest in a moderately warm
place for four hours or thereabouts. It can be baked now
if wanted at once, but, if not, take a spoon and push the
dough down from the top and sides of the vessel containing
it, and let it rise again. The oftener the bread rises the
lighter it will be—three times is, however, sufficient. After
it rises the last time take it out of the vessel and knead it
with your hands until it is smooth. If too soft add a little
more flour. For rolls, roll out and cut as if for biscuit. If
you prefer doubled rolls give each a touch with the rolling-pin
to make it oblong, and then double it over. The baking-pan
must be greased and the rolls must not touch each other.
Set down to rise; this will take half or three-quarters of an
hour. Then put in the oven and bake as you would biscuit.
Unless the oven is hot the rolls will spread and the crust be
hard.—Col. McClure’s Philadelphia Times.
Wheat Bread.—Put seven pounds of flour into a bread-pan,
hollow out the centre, and add a quart of lukewarm
water, a teaspoonful of salt, and a wineglassful of yeast. Have
ready more warm water, and add gradually as much as will
make a smooth, soft dough. Knead it well; dust a little flour
over it, cover it with a cloth, and set it in a warm place for
four hours; then knead it again for fifteen minutes and let it
rise again. Divide it into loaves and bake in a quick oven.
Corn Bread.—Sift three quarts of corn meal, add a tablespoonful
of salt, and mix sufficient water with it to make a
very thin batter. Cover it with a bread-cloth and set it to
rise. When ready to bake stir it well, pour it into a baking-pan,
and bake slowly. Use cold water in summer and hot
water in winter.
61Continental Hotel Corn Bread.—Sift together a pound and
a half wheat flour, one pound Indian meal, two ounces Royal
Baking Powder, and a tablespoonful salt. Beat together three
ounces of sugar, three ounces of butter, and four eggs; add
the mixture to the flour, and make a stiff batter by adding
warm milk if in winter, cold milk in summer. Bake in
small square moulds.
Continental Hotel Muffins.—Mix two and a half pounds
flour, three ounces Royal Baking Powder, and tablespoonful
salt. Beat up three ounces of sugar, three ounces butter,
and four eggs together; add to the flour, make a batter with
milk, half fill the muffin-rings, and bake in a quick oven.
Boston Brown Bread.—Sift together thoroughly half a pint
of flour, one pint corn meal, half a pint rye flour, one teaspoonful
salt, one tablespoonful brown sugar, and two teaspoonfuls
baking powder. Peel, wash, and boil two mealy
potatoes; rub them through the sieve, diluting with half a
pint of water. When this is quite cold use it to make a
batter and pour it into a well-greased mould having a cover.
Place it in a saucepan of boiling water. Simmer one hour
without the water getting into it; take it out of the water,
remove the cover, and finish cooking by baking about thirty
minutes.
Steamed Brown Bread.—One quart each of milk and Indian
meal, one pint of rye meal, one cup of molasses, two teaspoonfuls
of soda. Add a little salt and steam four hours.
Milk Biscuit.—Take one-fourth of a pound butter, one
quart lukewarm milk, two wineglassfuls yeast, salt to taste,
and as much flour as will form the dough. Stir flour into
the milk to make a thick batter, and add the yeast. This
should be done in the evening. Next morning melt the
butter and pour it into the sponge; add flour enough to make
a stiff dough; knead it well and set it aside to rise. When
perfectly light roll it out an inch thick and cut the biscuits,
set them in shallow baking-pans, and set them in a moderately
62warm place to rise. When they are light brush beaten
egg over them and bake in a quick oven.
Corn Cakes.—Scrape twelve ears of corn, use two eggs, one
and one-half cups of milk, salt and pepper to taste, and flour
enough to hold all together. Fry in hot fat.
Fried Bread Cakes.—Add half a cupful of melted butter,
three of “A” sugar, four eggs, teaspoonful of salt, and a
little grated nutmeg to five cupfuls of dough. Knead these
well together with flour, and set it before the fire to rise
until very light. Knead the dough again after it rises, and
cut it into diamond or crescent shaped cakes; let them rise,
and fry them in boiling fat.
Pies.—Pie, and the extent to which it is consumed in this
country, have long been a subject upon which Europeans travelling
here have exercised their descriptive and imaginative
powers. It seems to be a cardinal belief on the other side
that no meal is furnished here without a superabundance of
pie; that, even at the best inns and restaurants in New
York, Boston, and Philadelphia, pie is devoured at breakfast,
luncheon, dinner, and supper; that no American would sit
down to a table where he could not see plenty of pie; that
all the States are closely connected and bound together by a
prejudice in favor of pie; that it was love of pie rather than
force of patriotism which, in the civil war, preserved the
Union. Sala is one of the latest Englishmen to descant on
the omnipresence and national omnivorousness of pie. He
devotes ample space to it in one of his recent letters to the
London Telegraph; admits that he has eaten it, and that it
is so very toothsome that it is difficult to resist its temptations.
He has done what a great many of our own people
never do. Hundreds of families in this and in other cities
do not see a pie from beginning to end of the year. Thousands
of natives have never tasted pie. In the large towns
of the Middle States it is but seldom put on the table.
New England, indeed, is the region to which pie is indigenous,
though even there it is confined mainly to the rural
63districts. It appears odd, however, that Englishmen should
so animadvert on our pies, as if they had never tasted or
heard of such things. They have any quantity of pies at
home, but these are meat pies, commonly of pork and mutton,
and as hostile to gastric conditions as bad pastry and
poor baking can conveniently make them. They have, too,
any number of fruit pies, giving them the name of tarts, not
to be compared with our pies. The gooseberry tart, almost
as much a British dish as plum-pudding, is eaten from
Cornwall to Northumberland, and that its eaters survive it
proves the strength and elasticity of the national stomach.
It is usually as heavy as lead and a guarantee of indigestion.
The French also have numberless pies under the disguise
of tartes, but no better than, often not so good as,
ours. In truth, the American pie is widely prevalent in the
Old World, where, as a rule, it is inferior to the native
article.
Puff Paste.—Good sweet, salt butter, which has been washed
in cold water, squeezed between the hands to free it from
the salt, and afterwards wrung in a cloth to take away all
the moisture, is the best material that can be used. The
consistency of the butter is of much importance. If it is too
hard it will not easily mix with the flour, but if it is too
soft the paste will be entirely spoilt in consequence of the
butter breaking through the edges while it is being rolled.
As the difficulty experienced is generally to get the butter
sufficiently cool, it is a good plan to place it upon ice before
using it for the pastry. In hot weather the paste should be
placed in a cool place a few minutes between each turn. If
very flaky pastry is required, the paste may be brushed
lightly over each time it is rolled with white of egg. Sift
one pound of flour; put it on the pastry-board. Make a
hole in the centre; add half a teaspoonsful salt and little
less than half a pint of ice-water. The exact quantity of
water cannot be given, owing to the difference in flour, but
experience will soon enable you to determine when the paste
is sufficiently stiff. Mix it in gradually with a knife, then
64work it lightly with the hands to form a smooth paste.
Have ready three-quarters of a pound of butter. Flatten the
paste till it is an inch thick; lay the butter in the centre,
and fold over the four sides of the paste so as to form a
square and completely hide the butter. Leave this to cool a
few minutes, then dredge the board and the paste with
flour, and roll the paste out very thin, and be especially careful
that the butter does not break through the flour. Fold
over a third of the length from one end, and lay the other
third upon it. This folding into three is called giving one
turn. Let the paste rest for a few minutes, then give it two
more turns; rest again, and give it two more. This will be
in all five turns, and these will generally be found sufficient.
If, however, the pastry is to be used for patties, etc., six or
seven turns will be required. Gather the paste together,
and it is ready for use, and should be baked as soon as possible;
and remember to dredge a little flour over it, the
board, and rolling-pin every time it is rolled, to keep it from
sticking. French cooks mix the yolks of two eggs with
flour and water in the first instance. If a very rich paste is
required a pound of butter to a pound of flour may be used.
Paste.—One pound of flour, half a pound of butter, half a
pound of lard. With a little water make a dough of the
flour and lard; then roll it; spread a portion of the butter
over it; fold and roll again; add more butter, and so on until
you have used the half pound all up.
You cannot make good paste out of poor flour. The
“Perfection New Process Flour” will give you entire satisfaction.
Currant-Jelly.—Make a good crust and cover your plates with
it. Pare, core, and cut up the apples in small pieces; put
them on to stew in just water enough to cover them; quarter
a lemon and stew with the apples. When soft mash the apples,
remove the seeds if any, sweeten to taste, and flavor
with nutmeg or ground cinnamon.
Sliced Apple Pie.—Make a good, light crust; wet the edge
65of the pie-plate and lay a thin strip all round. Pare, core,
and slice the apples; lay them on the paste with a little sugar,
the juice of half a lemon; flavor with nutmeg. Lay a top
crust over the fruit, and bake nearly three-quarters of an
hour.
Apple Meringue Pie.—Prepare the pie as in the foregoing
receipt, omitting the upper crust, and while the pie is baking
prepare a méringue by beating up the whites of three eggs
with three ounces of powdered sugar to a stiff broth; spread
two-thirds of the mixture over the fire, and put the other third
into a paper funnel or cornucopia, and by squeezing it decorate
the pie according to fancy; dust sugar over it. Return
it to the oven to set the méringue.
Apple-Custard Pie.—Beat up six eggs with a cupful of sugar;
add them to three cupfuls of stewed apples (cold), and
add gradually a quart of milk to the mixture; season with
nutmeg; cover the pie-plate with a good crust, with the
edge neatly arranged; fill the pie with the custard, and bake.
Mince-meat for Pie.—Shred and chop very fine two pounds
of beef suet; by dredging the suet occasionally with flour it
chops more easily and does not clog; boil slowly, but
thoroughly, two pounds of lean round of beef and chop fine
(mix all the ingredients as they are prepared); stone and cut
fine two pounds of raisins; wash and pick two pounds of currants;
cut fine half a pound of citron; chop two pounds of
apples, weighing them after they have been peeled and cored;
a tablespoonful of salt, a teaspoonful of ground cinnamon, a
grated nutmeg, a salt-spoonful of allspice, half as much
cloves, half an ounce of essence of almonds, a pint of brandy,
and a pint of cider. This may be kept in a cool place all
winter. If too dry add more cider.
Manufacturers are competing with each other in the preparation
of mince-meat to such an extent that it is no longer
economy to prepare your mince-meat at home. Most of
our first-class hotels use the “Thanksgiving Brand,” a genuine
66New England preparation. It is put up in five or ten
pound buckets, and I consider it a great saving to families,
both in time and materials, to secure their meat all ready
prepared, when they know they can get a reliable article.
When you are about to make mince-pies moisten the meat
with cider, port, brandy, or water.
Pumpkin Pie.—Cut the pumpkin into strips, and stew
them in water enough to cover them nicely; when done
pour off the water and press the pumpkin through a sieve;
add to the pulp two quarts of milk, and nine eggs to every
quart of pulp; sweeten with sugar (beat the sugar and eggs
together), and season liberally with ginger and nutmeg;
prepare the pie-plates with a crust as for custard pies; fill
the plate with the mixture, and bake in a hot oven.
Serve the pies when cold. After drawing off the water from
the pumpkin cover the pot with a towel and let it stand half an
hour on the back part of the range to dry out the moisture.
Fruit Pies.—The under-paste for fruit pies may be made of
flour and lard, but the top is generally made of good puff paste;
it may cover the pie entirely or only in strips, according
to fancy. Should the fruit require longer cooking
than the paste, prepare it by stewing or simmering before
filling the pies with it.
Custard Pies.—Line a well-buttered pie-plate with a good
paste; arrange a thick pie rim round the edge of the plate;
beat up four eggs with one cupful of sugar, and gradually add
a pint and a half of milk; fill the pies while in the oven;
grate a little nutmeg over them and bake about twenty
minutes.
Lemon Cream Pie.—Boil a pint and a half of milk, and add
three tablespoonfuls corn-starch dissolved in a little cold milk.
Return the milk to the fire; take the juice of two lemons,
four eggs, one cupful sugar, and two tablespoonfuls of butter.
Beat these ingredients together, and add to the milk; flavor
with a teaspoonful of extract of lemon and grated nutmeg;
pour the mixture into the pies (prepared as for custard pies)
67and bake. When done remove from the oven and set it
aside. Whip up the whites of four eggs to a froth, and gradually
add a cupful of powdered sugar; spread two-thirds of
the mixture on the pie, and put the other one-third into a
cornucopia, and by squeezing it decorate the pie according
to fancy. Return it to the oven a few minutes to set the
méringue.
Lemon Cream Pie, No. 2.—One tablespoonful of corn-starch
dissolved in cold water, one cupful of boiling hot water, one
tablespoonful of butter, one egg, juice and rind of one lemon.
Sweeten to taste, and set aside to get cold. Fill crust with
this cream, and bake in a hot oven.
Orange Pie.—Work a teacupful of powdered sugar and a
tablespoonful of butter to a cream. Mix a tablespoonful of
corn-starch with a little cold water, and add a teacupful of
boiling water; let it cook long enough to thicken, stirring
constantly; then pour the mixture on to the butter and sugar.
Grate the peel from half an orange, and chop the other half
fine—first removing all the inner white skin. Add this to
the former ingredients, also a beaten egg and the juice of an
orange. Peel another orange, and slice it in little thin bits,
being careful to remove all the seeds and the tough white
skin. Line a pie-plate with nice paste and bake it until just
done; then fill with the custard and orange slices, and bake
long enough to cook the egg. A méringue made with the
whites of two eggs, a pinch of salt, and two tablespoonfuls
of powdered sugar, beaten to a stiff froth, will be an improvement.
Spread it over the pie; sift powdered sugar on
the top, and set it again in the oven until slightly colored.
English Plum Pudding.—Take six ounces of finely grated
bread, and mix with them a pound of flour, a pound of beef
suet floured and chopped fine, a teaspoonful salt, half a pound
of granulated sugar, three-fourths of a pound of raisins
stoned and chopped, three-fourths of a pound of washed
currants, two ounces each of candied lemon and orange
68peel, two ounces of citron shredded, a quarter of a pound
apple chopped fine, half an ounce of mixed spice, consisting
of ground cloves, cinnamon, and grated nutmeg,
and half a teaspoonful of fresh grated lemon-peel. Mix
these ingredients thoroughly, and work the mixture into a
stiff batter by adding to it five eggs beaten up with half a
pint of rich milk and a gill of brandy; turn the mixture
into a floured towel; shape it nicely; tie it up not too tightly,
but leave room enough for it to swell. Put it into a saucepan
of boiling water, and keep it boiling for five hours uninterruptedly.
Have a kettle of boiling water ready to add to
your saucepan as fast as the water evaporates. When done
sift powdered sugar over it; pour a little brandy or Jamaica
rum round it; set a match to the liquor, and send it to the
table with a hard or brandy sauce.
Plum-Pudding Sauce.—Four ounces sugar and two ounces
butter, well creamed together; then beat an egg well into it,
with two ounces of brandy.
New England Plum Pudding.—Two pounds bread, four
quarts milk, three pounds raisins, two grated nutmegs, three
teaspoonfuls each of cinnamon and allspice, eight eggs,
one cup sugar, and one cup molasses. Bake three hours.
Plain Plum Pudding.—Flour six ounces of suet, and chop
it fine; add a quarter of a pound of currants, the same
quantity of raisins, half a teaspoonful salt, and a teaspoonful
Royal Baking Powder; sift a pound of flour into the mixture;
mix the dry ingredients thoroughly, and stir into them
nearly a pint of milk with three tablespoonfuls of molasses;
add a little mixed spice; shape the pudding nicely; tie it up
in a floured towel, allowing room for it to swell, and boil
three hours.
Boiled Pudding.—Take a cupful of chopped suet, a cupful
of grated bread, and a cupful of washed currants; mix with
two tablespoonfuls sugar, a teaspoonful of grated lemon-peel,
69a salt-spoonful salt, and grated nutmeg; beat up two
eggs with half a cupful of milk, and work the mixture to a
light paste; wring some small cloths out of boiling water,
flour them, and tie in each a small portion of the mixture;
plunge them into boiling water, let them boil quickly half
an hour, turn them out on a hot dish, dash sugar over them,
and serve with a sauce made of sweetened melted butter,
with a teaspoonful of grated lemon-peel, nutmeg to taste; a
few spoonfuls of brandy will improve it.
Batter Pudding.—Beat the yolks and whites of four eggs
separately, and mix them with six or eight ounces of flour
and a salt-spoonful of salt. Make the batter of the proper
consistency by adding a little more than a pint of milk; mix
carefully; butter a baking-tin, pour the mixture into it, and
bake three-quarters of an hour. Serve with vanilla sauce.
Vanilla Sauce.—Put half a pint of milk in a small saucepan
over the fire; when scalding hot add the yolks of three
eggs, and stir until it is as thick as boiled custard; remove
the saucepan from the fire, and when cool add a tablespoonful
of Thurber’s double extract of vanilla and the beaten
whites of two eggs.
Chocolate Pudding.—One quart of milk boiled with one
ounce of grated chocolate; sweeten to taste, and flavor with
vanilla. Boil thoroughly, and stand aside to cool fifteen
minutes; then stir in the yolks of six eggs, well beaten;
bake in a pudding-dish until it stiffens like custard. Beat
the whites of six eggs, with six tablespoonfuls of powdered
sugar, to a stiff froth, and spread over top of pudding; put
in oven and brown quickly.
Crullers.—Half a pint of buttermilk, one cupful of butter,
two cupfuls sugar, and three eggs; beat up the eggs and add
the sugar and milk. Dissolve half a teaspoonful of saleratus
in a little hot water; add to the mixture, with a teaspoonful
salt, half a nutmeg grated, and half a teaspoonful of fresh
ground cinnamon. Work in as much sifted flour as will
make a smooth dough; mix thoroughly; dredge the board,
70rolling-pin, and dough with flour; roll it out and cut it in
rings or fingers, and fry in hot fat.
I have recommended buttermilk in the above receipt,
knowing its excellent qualities; but the majority of housekeepers
consider it utterly useless. The following from the
British Mail is appropriate here: “As the butter which is
taken from the milk is only the carbonaceous or heat-producing
element, there are still left in it all the nourishing
properties which make it so valuable as food. As a drink
for men at work in the hot sun buttermilk is far preferable
to cider, metheglin, switchel, or any preparation of beer
whatever, as it is not only cooling and refreshing, but also
strength-giving. Of course there are plenty of people, who
are constantly dosing themselves with blood-searchers, liver-purifiers,
and stomach-invigorators, who would laugh at the
mention of buttermilk as a medicine, and yet if they could
be once persuaded to try drinking a glass of that fresh beverage
every day they would soon find a corrective of their poor
appetites and ‘clogged-up’ livers. In a little book of
‘Plain Directions for the Care of the Sick,’ written by an
intelligent physician of Philadelphia, who has under his
medical supervision several charitable institutions, we find
buttermilk mentioned as being very useful, especially in
fevers, as an article of diet for the sick.”
Baking Powder.—I have endeavored to recommend to my
many readers a few articles used in cooking that my long
experience as a caterer has taught me are the best. A good
baking powder is a very important article to have in every
household, but it is difficult to get a powder without the
presence of alum.
The Brooklyn Board of Health, on motion of President
Crane, the Sanitary Superintendent, was directed to procure
samples of the various kinds of baking powders sold in
Brooklyn, have them analyzed, and make a report thereon
to the Board. Without going in detail into the constitution
of baking powders, it will only be necessary to say that they
are made with bicarbonate of soda, or carbonate of ammonia,
71and cream of tartar, chemically known as the bitartrate of
potassa. But the lack of skill, resulting in lumps of soda in
the product, led manufacturers to ascertain the proper proportion
of these salts and to mix them, selling the compound
as a baking powder. Some of the manufacturers, on account
of the cheapness of alum, have introduced it as an ingredient
into baking powder, and the report of the Brooklyn Board
concludes as follows: “From a careful examination we are
satisfied that the weight of evidence is against the use of alum
in baking powders, and that the risks incurred in its use are
too great to be incurred for the sake of cheapness alone.
The mucous membrane of the stomach and the intestinal
canal is a delicate structure, and materials which would produce
no effect on the outside skin might irritate and inflame
these organs.”
Dr. Mott, the Government Chemist, in his review of the
subject, makes special mention of having analyzed the Royal
Baking Powder and found it composed of pure and wholesome
materials. He also advises the public to avoid purchasing
baking powders as sold loose or in bulk, as he has found by
analyses of many samples that the worst adulterations are
practised in this form. And I may cheerfully add that our
first-class hotels use only the best of everything, not only in
baking powders but in every article that enters their storerooms,
and that Royal Baking Powder is the only baking
powder they allow used in their bakeries, it being free from
alum and other unwholesome ingredients.
Roly-Poly Pudding.—One quart of flour, one-half pound
of suet chopped fine; rub in a little salt with flour, wet with
water, and then roll it out and spread any kind of fruit over
it. Roll up, put in cloth, and boil one hour.
Roly-Poly Lemon Pudding.—Take the pulp from three
lemons; remove the pith and add to it an equal weight of
sugar; boil twenty minutes; then set the mixture to cool.
Chop up seven ounces of suet, and mix it with one pound
of flour, a salt-spoonful of salt, and water enough to make a
paste; roll it out nearly an inch in thickness; spread the
72lemon mixture upon it, and roll it into a long pudding;
pinch the ends together, tie it in a floured cloth, put it into
boiling water, and boil constantly for two hours. Serve
with wine-sauce.
Marlborough Pudding.—Grate apples enough to make eight
ounces; add to this eight ounces of fine white sugar which
has been well rubbed on the rind of a large lemon, six well-beaten
eggs, three tablespoonfuls of cream, the strained juice
of three lemons, eight ounces of butter; add quantity at
pleasure of orange-flower water, and the grated peel of an
orange and a lemon; line the pie-dish with rich puff paste,
put in the mixture, and let it bake in a quick oven.
Macaroni Pudding.—Butter a pie-dish, and cover the bottom
with two and one-half ounces uncooked macaroni; pour
over it one quart of cold milk, add two tablespoonfuls of sugar,
stir in two well-beaten eggs, and flavor with one teaspoonful
of vanilla (double extract) or any flavoring desired.
Put bits of butter over top, dust a little grated nutmeg over
top, and bake slowly two hours and a half.
Steamed Arrowroot Pudding.—Mix two tablespoonfuls of
Beatty’s Bermuda arrowroot with one cupful of milk; flavor
one pint and a half of milk with any desired flavoring, put
it on the fire, and when it boils pour it upon the arrowroot;
stir well, and when it is cool add three well-beaten
eggs, one tablespoonful each of sugar and brandy; put it into
a well-buttered mould, cover, and steam it one hour and a
half; then turn it out on a dish, and arrange some preserves
or jam neatly around it, and serve.
Almond Pudding.—Blanch and pound, with a little water,
three ounces of sweet and four ounces of bitter almonds; add
one pint of milk, three tablespoonfuls of sugar, a little grated
nutmeg, one tablespoonful of flour mixed smoothly in a
little cold milk, one tablespoonful of grated bread, two eggs
well beaten, and the whites of two eggs whisked to a froth;
pour the mixture into a buttered mould, cover, and boil quickly
73three-quarters of an hour; let it stand a few minutes before
turning out of mould. Serve with vanilla sauce.
Bachelor’s Pudding.—Beat up three eggs, flavor with essence
of lemon and grated nutmeg, and add them to four
ounces each of finely-minced apples, currants, grated bread-crumbs,
and two ounces of sugar; mix thoroughly and boil
in a buttered mould nearly three hours. Serve with following
sauce.
Wine-Sauce.—Boil the thin rind of half a lemon in one
wineglassful of water till the flavor is extracted; then take
it out and thicken the sauce by stirring into it one salt-spoonful
of rice, flour, or arrowroot which has been mixed
in water or milk, a walnut of butter; boil a moment, then
add half a tumblerful of good wine; let the sauce get quite
hot without boiling, sweeten a little, and serve with the pudding.
Bird’s-Nest Pudding.—Make the foundation of nest of blanc-mange
or corn-starch; grate the rinds of three lemons, and
arrange around the blanc-mange to represent straw; extract
the contents of four eggs through a small hole and fill the
egg-shells with hot blanc-mange or corn-starch; when cold
break off the shells and lay the moulded eggs in nest. Serve
with jam or preserves.
Harlan’s Pudding.—Take three ounces each of butter,
sugar, and flour; whisk two eggs thoroughly, and gradually
mix with them the loaf-sugar, which must be rubbed well on
the rind of a lemon before it is pounded; then add the
flour and the butter partially melted, a salt-spoonful of salt,
and a little grated nutmeg. Butter insides of several cups;
put a little jam at the bottom of each, and fill them nearly
full with the mixture; bake half an hour; turn them out
and serve with wine-sauce.
Cocoanut Pudding.—Beat two eggs with one cupful of new
milk; add one-quarter of a pound of grated cocoanut; mix
with it three tablespoonfuls each of grated bread and powdered
74sugar, two ounces of melted butter, five ounces of raisins,
and one teaspoonful of grated lemon-peel; beat the
whole well together; pour the mixture into a buttered dish,
and bake in a slow oven; then turn it out, dust sugar over
it, and serve. This pudding may be either boiled or baked.
Citron Pudding.—Sift two tablespoonfuls of flour and
mix with the beaten yolks of six eggs; add gradually one
pint of sweet cream, a quarter of a pound of citron cut in
small strips, and two tablespoonfuls of sugar; mix thoroughly,
pour the batter into buttered tins, and bake twenty-five
minutes. Serve with wine or vanilla sauce.
Eve’s Pudding.—Beat six ounces of butter to a cream; add
six ounces of sifted flour and six of sugar; separate the
yolks from the whites of four eggs; beat them till they are
light, then add the beaten yolks and afterwards the whites to
the batter; mix, and add half a dozen pounded almonds and
the grated rind of one lemon. Fill small tins about half full;
set them before the fire for a few minutes, and when they
have risen place them in the oven and bake for half an
hour. Serve with a sweet fruit sauce.
Sliced Apple Pudding.—Mix two tablespoonfuls of arrowroot
with one pint of cream; add two tablespoonfuls of
sugar; put in stew-pan and place over fire until it boils.
Slice thinly apples enough to fill a large-sized dish, laying them
in a dish with alternate layers of apples and sugar and small
walnuts of butter; pour on a tumblerful of jam as next layer,
and over all pour mixture of arrowroot. Bake in moderate
oven twenty-five minutes.
Astor House Pudding.—Mix one tablespoonful of flour with
two of milk; pour over it one cupful of boiling milk flavored
with one teaspoonful extract of vanilla; add one tablespoonful
of sugar, a walnut of butter, and the yolk of an egg, beaten.
Line the edge of pudding-dish with a rich puff paste, and
fill the dish two-thirds full with slices of sponge-cake over
which a good jam has been spread; pour the custard over
them and bake in a moderate oven; when done take out. Beat
75up the whites of two eggs with nearly one cupful of powdered
sugar; spread the méringue over the pudding, and sprinkle
a little sugar over it; return it to the oven a few minutes until
the méringue is fawn-colored, and serve in dish with clean,
white napkin neatly bound around the sides.
A good wine-sauce may be served with it if desired.
Manhattan Pudding.—Dissolve a walnut of saleratus in one
tablespoonful of hot water; mix one cupful of milk, three
well-beaten eggs, two tablespoonfuls of flour (mixed with cold
milk), one pinch of salt, and four ounces of chopped citron;
add saleratus, and mix all thoroughly; pour the mixture into
a buttered mould, tie mould in a floured cloth, boil one
hour and a half, turn out, and serve with a fruit sauce.
Manioca Pudding.—Three tablespoonfuls of manioca, one
quart of milk, a little salt, one tablespoonful of butter, and
two well-beaten eggs; sugar, spice, or flavoring to the taste.
Mix manioca in half the milk cold, and, with the butter, stir
on the fire until it thickens or boils; pour it quickly into a
dish, stir in the sugar and the remaining milk, and when
quite cool add the eggs, spice, and wine or other flavoring.
This pudding may be varied by omitting the eggs and substituting
currants, chopped raisins or candied lemon, orange
or citron sliced. Bake half an hour in a moderate oven.