Chapter X: Front Matter (10)

It may be a weakness, but I, for one, like to remember while admiring the pretty conceit of the _glacé_ peach, how it looked before it was rubbed bright, and sugar-coated.

BEVERAGES.

TEA À LA RUSSE.

SLICE fresh, juicy lemons; pare them carefully, lay a piece in the bottom of each cup; sprinkle with white sugar and pour the tea, very hot and strong, over them.

_Or,_

Send around the sliced lemon with the cups of tea, that each person may squeeze in the juice to please himself. Some leave the peel on, and profess to like the bitter flavor which it imparts to the beverage. The truth is, the taste for this (now) fashionable refreshment is so completely an acquired liking, that you had best leave to your guests the matter of “peel on” or “peel off.” There are those whom not even fashion can reconcile to the peculiar “smack” of lemon-rind after it has been subjected to the action of a boiling liquid.

Tea _à la Russe_ is generally, if not invariably drunk without cream, and is plentifully sweetened. It is very popular at the “high teas” and “kettle-drums,” so much in vogue at this time,—tea being to women, say the cynics, a species of mild intoxicant, of which they are not to be defrauded by evening dinners and their _sequitur_ of black coffee. Others, who cleave to ancient customs, and distrust innovations of all kinds, will have it that the popularity of these feminine carousals has its root in remorseful hankering after the almost obsolete “family tea.” “Since there must be fashionable follies,” growl these critics, “this is as harmless as any that can be devised, and is, assuredly, less disastrous to purse and health than an evening crush and supper.”

For once, we say “Amen” to the croakers. The “kettle-drum” is objectionable in nothing except its absurd name, and marks a promising era in the history of American party-giving.

COLD TEA.

Mixed tea is better cold than either black or green alone. Set it aside after breakfast, for luncheon or for tea, straining it into a perfectly clean and sweet bottle, and burying it in the ice. When ready to use it, you must fill a goblet three-quarters of the way to the top with the clear tea; sweeten it more lavishly than you would hot, and fill up the glass with cracked ice. It is a delicious beverage in summer. Drink without cream.

ICED TEA À LA RUSSE.

To each goblet of cold tea (without cream), add the juice of half a lemon. Fill up with pounded ice, and sweeten well. A glass of champagne added to this makes what is called Russian punch.

TEA MILK-PUNCH.

1 egg beaten very light.

1 small glass new milk.

1 cup very hot tea.

Sugar to taste.

Beat a teaspoonful or so of sugar with the egg; stir in the milk and then the hot tea, beating all up well together, and sweetening to taste. This is a palatable mixture, and is valuable for invalids who suffer much from weakness, or the peculiar sensation known as a “cold stomach.”

A “COZY” FOR A TEAPOT.

This is not an article of diet, yet an accessory to good tea-making and enjoyable tea-drinking that deserves to be better known in America. It is a wadded cover or bag made of crotcheted worsted, or of silk, velvet or cashmere, stitched or embroidered as the maker may fancy, with a stout ribbon-elastic drawn loosely in the bottom. This is put over the teapot so soon as the tea is poured into it, and will keep the contents of the pot warm for an hour or more. Those who have known the discomfort, amounting to actual nausea, produced by taking a draught of lukewarm tea into an empty or weary stomach; or whose guests or families are apt to keep them waiting for their appearance at table until the “cheering” (if hot) “beverage” lowers in temperature and quality so grievously that it must be remanded to the kitchen, and an order for fresh issued—will at once appreciate the importance of this simple contrivance for keeping up the heat of our “mild intoxicant” and keeping the temper of the priestess at the tea-tray down.

COFFEE WITH WHIPPED CREAM.

For six cups of coffee, of fair size, you will need about one cup of sweet cream, whipped light with a little sugar. Put into each cup the desired amount of sugar, and about a table-spoonful of boiling milk. Pour the coffee over these, and lay upon the surface of the hot liquid a large spoonful of the frothed cream. Give a gentle stir to each cup before sending them around. This is known to some as _méringued_ coffee, and is an elegant French preparation of the popular drink.

FROTHED CAFÉ AU LAIT.

1 quart strong, clear coffee, strained through muslin.

1 Scant quart boiling milk.

Whites of 3 eggs, beaten stiff.

1 table-spoonful powdered sugar, whipped with the eggs.

Your coffee urn must be scalded clean, and while it is hot, pour in the coffee and milk alternately, stirring gently. Cover; wrap a thick cloth about the urn for five minutes, before it goes to table. Have ready in a cream-pitcher the whipped and sweetened whites. Put a large spoonful upon each cup of coffee as you pour it out, heaping it slightly in the centre.

FROTHED CHOCOLATE. (_Very good._)

1 cup of boiling water.

3 pints of fresh milk.

3 table-spoonfuls Baker’s chocolate, grated.

5 eggs, the whites only, beaten light.

2 table-spoonfuls of sugar, powdered for froth.

Sweeten the chocolate to taste.

Heat the milk to scalding. Wet up the chocolate with the boiling water and when the milk is hot, stir this into it. Simmer gently ten minutes, stirring frequently. Boil up briskly once, take from the fire, sweeten to taste, taking care not to make it too sweet, and stir in the whites of two eggs, whipped stiff, _without_ sugar. Pour into the chocolate pot or pitcher, which should be well heated. Have ready in a cream pitcher, the remaining whites whipped up with the powdered sugar. Cover the surface of each cup with the sweetened _méringue_, before distributing to the guests.

If you like, you can substitute scented chocolate for Baker’s.

Chocolate or cocoa is a favorite luncheon beverage, and many ladies, especially those who have spent much time abroad, have adopted the French habit of breakfasting upon rolls and a cup of chocolate.

MILLED CHOCOLATE.

3 heaping table-spoonfuls of grated chocolate.

1 quart of milk.

Wet the chocolate with boiling water. Scald the milk and stir in the chocolate-paste. Simmer ten minutes; then, if you have no regular “muller,” put your syllabub-churn into the boiling liquid and churn steadily, without taking from the fire, until it is a yeasty froth. Pour into a chocolate-pitcher, and serve at once.

This is esteemed a great delicacy by chocolate lovers, and is easily made.

SOYER’S CAFÉ AU LAIT.

1 cup best coffee, freshly roasted, but _unground_.

2 cups of boiling water.

1 quart boiling milk.

Put the coffee into a _clean_, dry kettle or tin pail; fit on a close top and set in a saucepan of boiling water. Shake it every few moments, without opening it, until you judge that the coffee-grains must be heated through. If, on lifting the cover, you find that the contents of the inner vessel are very hot and smoking, pour over them the boiling water directly from the tea-kettle. Cover the inner vessel closely and set on the side of the range, where it will keep _very_ hot without boiling for twenty minutes. Then, add the boiling milk, let all stand together for five minutes more, and strain through thin muslin into the coffee-urn. Use loaf-sugar in sweetening.

The flavor of this is said to be very fine.

WHITE LEMONADE.

3 lemons.

3 cups loaf sugar.

2 glasses white wine.

2 quarts _fresh_ milk, boiling hot.

Wash the lemons, grate all the peel from one into a bowl; add the sugar, and squeeze the juice of the three over these. After two hours add the wine, and then, quickly, the boiling milk. Strain through a flannel jelly-bag. Cool and set in the ice until wanted.

CLARET CUP.

1 (quart) bottle of claret.

1 (pint) bottle of champagne.

½ pint best sherry.

2 lemons, sliced.

¼ pound loaf sugar dissolved in 1 cup cold water.

Let the sugar, water and sliced lemon steep together half an hour before adding to the rest of the ingredients. Shake all well together in a very large pitcher twenty or thirty times, and make thick with pounded ice, when you are ready to use it.

There is no better receipt for the famous “claret cup” than this.

VERY FINE PORTEREE.

1 pint bottle best porter.

2 glasses pale sherry.

1 lemon _peeled_ and sliced.

½ pint ice-water.

6 or 8 lumps of loaf sugar.

½ grated nutmeg.

Pounded ice.

This mixture has been used satisfactorily by invalids, for whom the pure porter was too heavy, causing biliousness and heartburn.

GINGER CORDIAL.

2 table-spoonfuls ground ginger, fresh and strong.

1 lb. loaf sugar.

½ pint best whiskey.

1 quart red currants.

Juice of 1 lemon.

Crush the currants in a stone vessel with a wooden beetle, and strain them through a clean, coarse cloth, over the sugar. Stir until the sugar is dissolved; add the lemon, the whiskey, and the ginger. Put it into a demijohn or a stone jug, and set upon the cellar-floor for a week, shaking up vigorously every day. At the end of that time, strain through a cloth and bottle. Seal and wire the corks, and lay the bottles on their sides in a cool, dry place.

An excellent summer drink is made by putting two table-spoonfuls of this mixture into a goblet of iced water. It is far safer for quenching the thirst, when one is overheated, than plain ice-water or lemonade.

MILK-PUNCH. (_Hot._)

1 quart milk, warm from the cow.

2 glasses best sherry wine.

4 table-spoonfuls powdered sugar.

4 eggs, the yolks only, beaten light.

Cinnamon and nutmeg to taste.

Bring the milk to the boiling point. Beat up the yolks and sugar together; add the wine; pour into a pitcher, and mix with it, stirring all the time, the boiling milk. Pour from one vessel to another six times, spice, and serve as soon as it can be swallowed without scalding the throat.

This is said to be an admirable remedy for a bad cold if taken in the first stages, just before going to bed at night.

MULLED ALE.

3 eggs, the yolks only.

A pint of good ale.

2 table-spoonfuls loaf sugar.

A pinch of ginger, and same of nutmeg.

Heat the ale scalding hot, but do not let it quite boil. Take from the fire and stir in the eggs beaten with the sugar, and the spice. Pour from pitcher to pitcher, five or six times, until it froths, and drink hot.

MULLED WINE.

2 eggs, beaten very light with the sugar.

1 table-spoonful white sugar.

2 full glasses white wine.

½ cup boiling water.

A little nutmeg.

Heat the water, add the wine; cover closely and bring almost to a boil. Pour this carefully over the beaten egg and sugar; set in a vessel of boiling water and stir constantly until it begins to thicken. Pour into a silver goblet, grate the nutmeg on the top, and let the invalid drink it as hot as it can be swallowed without suffering.

A SUMMER DRINK. (_Very good._)

2 lbs. Catawba grapes.

3 table-spoonfuls loaf sugar.

1 cup of cold water.

Squeeze the grapes hard in a coarse cloth, when you have picked them from the stems. Wring out every drop of juice; add the sugar, and when this is dissolved, the water, surround with ice until very cold; put a lump of ice into a pitcher, pour the mixture upon it, and drink at once.

You can add more sugar if you like, or if the grapes are not quite ripe.

RUM MILK-PUNCH.

1 cup milk, warm from the cow.

1 table-spoonful of best rum.

1 egg, whipped light with a little sugar.

A little nutmeg.

Pour the rum upon the egg-and-sugar; stir for a moment and add the milk; strain and drink.

It is a useful stimulant for consumptives, and should be taken before breakfast.

CLEAR PUNCH.

½ cup ice-water.

1 glass white wine (or very good whiskey).

White of 1 egg whipped stiff with the sugar.

1 table-spoonful of loaf sugar.

A sprig of mint.

Pounded ice.

Mix well together and give to the patient, ice-cold.

CURRANT AND RASPBERRY SHRUB.

4 quarts ripe currants.

3 quarts red raspberries.

4 lbs. loaf sugar.

1 quart best brandy.

Pound the fruit in a stone jar, or wide-mouthed crock, with a wooden beetle. Squeeze out every drop of the juice; put this into a porcelain, enamel, or very clean bell-metal kettle, and boil hard ten minutes. Bring to the boil quickly, as slow heating and boiling has a tendency to darken all acid syrups. Put in the sugar at the end of the ten minutes, and boil up once to throw the scum to the top. Take it off; skim, let it get perfectly cold, skim off all remaining impurities, add the brandy and shake hard for five minutes. Bottle; seal the corks, and lay the bottles on their sides in dry sawdust.

Put up in this way, “shrub” will keep several years, and be the better for age. It is a refreshing and slightly medicinal drink, when mixed with iced water.

STRAWBERRY SHRUB.

4 quarts of ripe strawberries.

The juice of 4 lemons.

4 lbs. of loaf sugar.

1 pint best brandy, or colorless whiskey.

Mash the berries and squeeze them through a bag. Add the strained lemon-juice; bring quickly to a fast boil, and after it has boiled five minutes, put in the sugar and cook five minutes more. Skim as it cools, and, when quite cold, add the brandy. Be sure that your bottles are perfectly clean. Rinse them out with soda-and-water; then, with boiling water. The corks must be new. Soak them in cold water; drive into the bottles; cut off even with the top; seal with bees-wax and rosin, melted in equal quantities, and lay the bottles on their sides in dry sawdust.

Strawberries, preserved in any way, do not keep so well as some other fruits. Hence, more care must be taken in putting them up.

LEMON SHRUB.

Juice of 6 lemons, and grated peel of two.

Grated peel of 1 orange.

3 lbs. loaf sugar.

3 pints of cold water.

3 pints of brandy or white whiskey.

Steep the grated peel in the brandy for two days. Boil the sugar-and-water to a thick syrup, and when it is cool, strain into it the lemon-juice and the liquor. Shake up well for five minutes, and bottle. Seal the bottles and lay them on their sides.

CURAÇOA.

Grated peel and the juice of 4 fine oranges.

1 lb. of rock-candy.

1 cup of cold water.

1 teaspoonful cinnamon.

½ teaspoonful nutmeg.

A pinch of cloves.

1 pint very fine brandy.

Break the candy to pieces in a mortar, or, by pounding it in a cloth, cover with cold water and heat to a boil, by which time the candy should be entirely dissolved. Add the orange-juice, boil up once and take from the fire. When cold, skim, put in the spices, peel, and brandy; put it into a stone jug, and let it stand for a fortnight in a cool place. Shake every day, and at the end of that time strain through flannel, and bottle.

This is an excellent flavoring for pudding sauces, custards, trifles, etc. For tipsy Charlottes and like desserts, it is far superior to brandy or wine.

NOYAU.

½ pound sweet almonds.

Juice of 3 lemons, and grated peel of one.

2 pounds loaf sugar.

3 teaspoonfuls extract of bitter-almonds.

2 table-spoonfuls clear honey.

1 pint best brandy.

1 table-spoonful orange-flower water.

Blanch and pound the almonds, mixing the orange-flower water with them to prevent oiling. Add the sugar and brandy, and let these ingredients lie together for two days, shaking the jug frequently. Put in the lemon, honey and flavoring; shake hard, and leave in the jug a week longer, shaking it every day.

Strain through very fine muslin, bottle and seal.

The flavor of this is delicious in custards, etc. As a beverage, it must be mixed with ice-water.

ROSE SYRUP.

1½ pound of fresh rose-leaves.

2 pounds loaf sugar.

Whites of 2 eggs, whipped light.

1 pint best brandy.

1 quart cold water.

Boil the sugar and water to a clear syrup, beat in the whites of the eggs, and, when it has boiled up again well, take from the fire. Skim as it cools, and when a little more than blood-warm, pour it over half a pound of fresh rose-leaves. Cover it closely, and let it alone for twenty-four hours. Strain, and put in the second supply of leaves. On the third day put in the last half pound, and on the fourth, strain through a muslin bag. Add the brandy; strain again through a double linen bag, shake well and bottle.

This liqueur is delightful as a beverage, mixed with iced water, and invaluable where rose-flavor is desired for custards, creams or icing.

In the height of the rose-season, the requisite quantity of leaves may easily be procured. The receipt is nearly fifty years old.

ORANGE CREAM.

12 large, very sweet oranges.

2 pounds loaf sugar.

1 quart milk, warm from the cow.

1 quart best French brandy.

Grate the peel from three of the oranges, and reserve for use in preparing the liqueur. Peel the rest, and use the juice only. Pour this with the brandy over the sugar and grated rind; put into a stone jug, and let it stand three days, shaking twice a day.

Then boil the milk, which _must_ be new, and pour hot over the mixture, stirring it in well. Cover closely. When it is quite cold, strain through a flannel bag. Put in clean, sweet bottles, seal the corks, and lay the bottles on their sides in sawdust.

It will keep well, but will be fit for drinking in a week. Mix with iced water as a beverage. It is a fine flavoring liqueur for trifles, etc.

VANILLA LIQUEUR.

4 fresh vanilla beans.

4 pounds loaf sugar.

1 quart cold water.

1 pint best brandy, or white whiskey.

Split the beans and cut into inch lengths. Put them to soak in the brandy for three days. Boil the sugar and water until it is a thick, clear syrup. Skim well, and strain the vanilla brandy into it. Shake, and pour into small bottles.

I have called this a liqueur, but it is so highly flavored as to be unfit for drinking, except as it is used in small quantities in effervescing beverages. But it imparts an exquisite flavor to creams, whips, cakes, etc., that cannot be obtained from the distilled extracts.

The receipt was given to me as a modern prize by an expert in cookery, but in reading it over there floated to me a delicious breath from a certain storeroom, the treasures of which to my childish imagination rivalled those of the “island of delights,” where the streams were curaçoa and capillaire, and the rocks loaf sugar. Led by this wandering zephyr of early association, I did not cease my rummaging until I unearthed the same receipt from an old cookery-book bequeathed to me by my mother.

FLAVORING EXTRACTS.

LEMON.

The peel of 6 lemons.

1 quart white whiskey or brandy.

Cut the rind into thin shreds; half fill three or four wide-mouthed bottles with it, and pour the spirits upon it. Cork tightly, and shake now and then for the first month. This will keep for years, and be better for age. It has this advantage over the distilled extract sold in the stores—country-stores especially, lemon extract being especially liable to spoil if kept for a few months, and tasting, when a little old, unfortunately like spirits of turpentine.

ORANGE.

Prepare as you would lemon-peel. Put into small bottles. It is said to be an excellent stomachic taken in the proportion of a teaspoonful to a glass of iced water, and slightly sweetened.

It is very nice for flavoring the icing of orange cake.

VANILLA.

2 vanilla beans.

½ pint white whiskey.

Split the bean, and clip with your scissors into bits, scraping out the seeds which possess the finest flavoring qualities. Put the seed and husks into the bottom of a small bottle; fill up with the spirits, and cork tightly. Shake it often for a few weeks, after which it will be fit for use—and _never spoil_.

BITTER ALMOND.

½ pound of bitter almonds.

1 pint white whiskey.

Blanch the almonds, and shred (not pound them), using for this purpose a sharp knife that will not bruise the kernels. Put them into a wide-mouthed bottle; pour in the spirits, cork tightly; shake every other day for a fortnight. It will then be fit for use. Strain it as you have occasion to use it, through a bit of cloth held over the mouth of the bottle.

* * * * *

I introduce these directions for the domestic manufacture of such extracts as are most used in cooking:, chiefly, but not altogether for the benefit of country readers. The land—town and country—is so deluged now with makers and peddlers of “flavoring extracts,” that some, of necessity, must be indifferent in quality, if not hurtful. I have purchased from a respectable druggist in a large city, rose-water that smelled like ditch-water, and tasted worse; essence of lemon that could not be distinguished by the sense of taste or smell from varnish; and vanilla that was like nothing I had ever tasted or smelled before—least of all like heliotrope, new-mown hay, or vanilla-bean.

The answer to my complaint in each of these cases was the same. “I cannot understand it, madam. The extract is of Our Own Make, and there is no better in the American market!”

In country stores the risk of getting a poor article is of course much greater. To this day, I recall with a creep of the flesh that drives a cold moisture to the surface, the unspoken (at the moment) agony with which I detected something wrong, and very far wrong in some nice-looking custards, the manufacture of which I had myself superintended, and that formed the staple of the dessert, to which I set down a couple of unexpected guests. As the first spoonful touched my tongue, I looked at John, and John looked (pityingly) at me! By mutual consent, we began to press the fruit upon our friends, and I hastened the entrance of the coffee-tray.

After dinner, we snatched a few words from one another, aside.

“The cook’s carelessness!” said he. “She got hold of the liniment-bottle by mistake.”

“It was a fresh bottle of ‘pure vanilla!’” answered I solemnly. “I saw her draw the cork!”

It was after this experience that I was assured there was “no better article in the American market.”

PRESERVED FRUITS, CANDIES, ETC.

APPLE MARMALADE. +

2 or 3 dozen tart, juicy apples, pared, cored and sliced.

A little cold water.

¾ pound of sugar to every pint of juice.

Juice of 2 lemons.

Stew the apples until tender, in just enough cold water to cover them. Drain off the juice through a cullender, and put into a porcelain or enamel kettle; stirring into it three-quarters of a pound of sugar for every pint of the liquid. Boil until it begins to jelly; strain the lemon-juice into it; put in the apples and stew pretty fast, stirring almost constantly, until the compote is thick and smooth. (If the apples are not soft all through, you had better rub them through the cullender before adding them to the boiling syrup.)

Put up the marmalade in small jars or cups, and paste paper covers over them as you would jelly, having first fitted a round of tissue-paper, dipped in brandy, upon the surface of the marmalade. Keep cool and dry.

The simple precaution of covering jellies, jams, and marmalade with brandied tissue-paper, will save the housekeeper much annoyance and inconvenience by protecting the conserve from mould. Should the fungus form inside the upper cover, the inner will effectually shield the precious sweet. I have seen the space left by the shrinking of the cooled jelly between it and the metallic, or paper cover of the glass, or jar, completely filled with blue-gray mould—a miniature forest that might appear well under the microscope, but was hideous to housewifely eyes. Yet, when the tissue-paper was carefully removed, the jelly was seen to be bright, firm, and unharmed in flavor as in appearance.

PEAR AND QUINCE MARMALADE. +

2 dozen juicy pears.

10 fine, ripe quinces.

Juice of 3 lemons.

¾ pound of sugar to every pound of fruit after it is ready for cooking.

A little cold water.

Pare and core the fruit, and throw it into cold water while you stew parings and cores in a little water to make the syrup. When they have boiled to pieces strain off the liquid; when cold, put in the sliced fruit and bring to a fast boil. It should be thick and smooth before the sugar and lemon-juice go in. Cook steadily an hour longer, working with a wooden spoon to a rich jelly. When done, put into small jars while warm, but do not cover until cold.

ORANGE MARMALADE. +

18 sweet, ripe oranges.

6 pounds best white sugar.

Grate the peel from four oranges, and reserve it for the marmalade. The rinds of the rest will not be needed. Pare the fruit carefully, removing the inner white skin as well as the yellow. Slice the orange; remove the seeds; put the fruit and grated peel in a porcelain or enamel saucepan (if the latter, those made by Lalange and Grosjean are the best), and boil steadily until the pulp is reduced to a smooth mass. Take from the fire and rub quickly through a clean, bright cullender, as the color is easily injured. Stir in the sugar, return to the fire, and boil fast, stirring constantly half an hour, or until thick. Put while warm into small jars, but do not cover until cold.

This is a handsome and delicious sweetmeat.

DUNDEE ORANGE MARMALADE.

12 fine, ripe oranges.

4 pounds white sugar—the best.

3 lemons—all the juice, and the rind of one lemon.

Cut the peel of four oranges into small dice, and the rind of one lemon. Stew them in clear water until tender. Slice and seed the oranges; put them into a preserving-kettle with the juice of the lemons and cook until all are boiled down to a smooth pulp. Rub this through a cullender; return to the saucepan with the sugar, and keep at a fast boil until quite thick. Stir in the “dice” from which the water has been drained; boil two minutes longer and pour into small jars. Cover with brandied tissue-paper when quite cold, pressed close to the surface of the marmalade, then, with metal or stout paper tops.

All marmalade should be stirred constantly after the sugar goes in.

Use loaf, or granulated sugar for making marmalade—not powdered. The crystals are said to make it more sparkling.

CANDIED CHERRIES.

2 quarts large, ripe, red cherries, stoned _carefully_.

2 lbs. loaf sugar.

1 cup water.

Make a syrup of the sugar and water and boil until it is thick enough to “pull,” as for candy. Remove to the side of the range, and stir until it shows signs of granulation. It is well to stir frequently while it is cooking, to secure this end. When there are grains, or crystals on the spoon, drop in the cherries, a few at a time. Let each supply lie in the boiling syrup two minutes, when remove to a sieve set over a dish. Shake gently but long, then turn the cherries out upon a cool, broad dish, and dry in a sunny window.

GLACÉ CHERRIES.

Make as above, but do not let the syrup granulate. It should not be stirred at all, but when it “ropes,” pour it over the cherries, which should be spread out upon a large, flat dish. When the syrup is almost cold, take these out, one by one, with a teaspoon, and spread upon a dish to dry in the open air.

If nicely managed, these are nearly as good as those put up by professional confectioners. Keep in a dry, cool place.

CANDIED LEMON-PEEL.

12 fresh, thick-skinned lemons.

4 lbs. loaf sugar.

A little powdered alum.

3 cups clear water.

Cut the peel from the lemons in long, thin strips, and lay in strong salt and water all night. Wash them in three waters next morning, and boil them until tender in soft water. They should be almost translucent, but not so soft as to break. Dissolve a little alum—about half a teaspoonful, when powdered—in enough cold water to cover the peel, and let it lie in it for two hours. By this time the syrup should be ready. Stir the sugar into three cups of water, add the strained juice of three lemons and boil it until it “ropes” from the end of the spoon. Put the lemon-peels into this, simmer gently half an hour; take them out and spread upon a sieve. Shake, not hard, but often, tossing up the peels now and then, until they are almost dry. Sift granulated sugar over them and lay out upon a table spread with a clean cloth. Admit the air freely, and, when perfectly dry, pack in a glass jar.

MAPLE SYRUP. +

6 lbs. maple sugar—pure.

6 large coffee-cups of water.

Break the sugar to pieces with a stone or hammer; cover with the water—cold—and let it stand until it is nearly, or quite melted. Put over the fire and bring to a gentle boil, leaving the kettle uncovered. Boil, _without stirring_, until it is a pretty thick syrup.

If possible, buy maple sugar direct from the “sugar camps,” or their vicinity, and in large blocks. The pretty scolloped cakes offered by peanut venders at treble the price of the genuine article, are largely adulterated with other substances.

CRANBERRIES.

Instead of expending my own time in covering a couple of sheets of paper with receipts touching this invaluable berry, I would direct the reader’s attention to the very admirable and comprehensive circular issued by MESSRS. C. G. AND E. W. CRANE, as an accompaniment to their “First Premium Star Brand Cranberries,” raised in Ocean County, New Jersey. I have never seen finer, or tasted more delicious berries than those sent out with their stamp upon the crates, and I consider that I am doing my fellow-housekeepers a substantial service by this unqualified commendation of the same. The berries are larger, firmer and of richer flavor than those one is accustomed to see in the markets (and to buy, knowing no better), and certainly delivered in a more sightly and wholesome condition.

The receipts go with them, and are clear, safe, and excellent.

The plantations on which the “Star Berries” are grown are in Cassville, Ocean County, New Jersey.

PEANUT CANDY. (_Very nice._)

1 scant pint of molasses.

4 quarts of peanuts, measured before they are shelled.

2 table-spoonfuls of vanilla.

1 teaspoonful of soda.

Boil the molasses until it hardens in cold water, when dropped from the spoon. Stir in the vanilla—then the soda, dry. Lastly, the shelled peanuts. Turn out into shallow pans well buttered, and press it down smooth with a wooden spoon.

I can heartily recommend the candy made according to this receipt as being unrivalled of its kind.

The molasses should be good in quality, and the peanuts freshly roasted.

DOTTY DIMPLE’S VINEGAR CANDY. +

3 cups white sugar.

1½ cups clear vinegar.

Stir the sugar into the vinegar until thoroughly dissolved; heat to a gentle boil and stew, uncovered, until it ropes from the tip of the spoon. Turn out upon broad dishes, well buttered, and cool. So soon as you are able to handle it without burning your fingers, begin to pull it, using only the tips of your fingers. It can be “pulled” beautifully white and porous.

Those who have read Sophie May’s delightful “Little Prudy,” and “Dotty Dimple” series, will remember the famous “vinegar candy.”

LEMON-CREAM CANDY. +

6 pounds best white sugar.

Strained juice of 2 lemons.

Grated peel of 1 lemon.

1 teaspoonful of soda.

3 cups clear water.

Steep the grated peel of the lemon in the juice for an hour; strain, squeezing the cloth hard to get out all the strength. Pour the water over the sugar, and, when nearly dissolved, set it over the fire and bring to a boil. Stew steadily until it hardens in cold water; stir in the lemon; boil one minute; add the dry soda, stirring in well; and, instantly, turn out upon broad, shallow dishes. Pull, as soon as you can handle it, into long white ropes, and cut into lengths when brittle.

Vanilla cream candy is made in the same way, with the substitution of vanilla flavoring for the lemon-juice and peel.

These home-made candies furnish pleasant diversions for the children on winter evening and rainy days, and are far more wholesome than those sold in the shops.

CHOCOLATE CARAMELS.

1 cup rich, sweet cream.

1 cup brown sugar.

1 cup white sugar.

7 table-spoonfuls vanilla chocolate.

1 table-spoonful corn-starch, stirred into the cream.

1 table-spoonful of butter.

Vanilla flavoring.

Soda, the size of a pea, stirred into cream.

Boil all the ingredients except the chocolate and vanilla extract, half an hour, stirring to prevent burning. Reserve half of the cream and wet up the chocolate in it, adding a very little water if necessary. Draw the saucepan to the side of the range, and stir this in well; put back on the fire and boil ten minutes longer, quite fast, stirring constantly. When it makes a hard glossy coat on the spoon, it is done. Add the vanilla after taking it from the range. Turn into shallow dishes well buttered. When cold enough to retain the impression of the knife, cut into squares.

MARBLED CREAM CANDY. (_Good._)

4 cups white sugar.

1 cup rich sweet cream.

1 cup water.

1 table-spoonful of butter.

1 table-spoonful vinegar.

Bit of soda the size of a pea, stirred in cream.

Vanilla extract.

3 table-spoonfuls of chocolate—grated.

Boil all the ingredients except half the cream, the chocolate and vanilla, together very fast until it is a thick, ropy syrup. Heat in a separate saucepan the reserved cream, into which you must have rubbed the grated chocolate. Let it stew until quite thick, and when the candy is done, add a cupful of it to this, stirring in well.

Turn the uncolored syrup out upon broad dishes, and pour upon it, here and there, great spoonfuls of the chocolate mixture. Pull as soon as you can handle it with comfort, and with the tips of your fingers only. If deftly manipulated, it will be streaked with white and brown.

CHOCOLATE CREAM DROPS.

1 cake vanilla chocolate.

3 cups of _powdered_ sugar.

1 cup soft water.

2 table-spoonfuls corn-starch or arrowroot.

1 table-spoonful butter.

2 teaspoonfuls vanilla.

Wash from the butter every grain of salt. Stir the sugar and water together; mix in the corn-starch, and bring to a boil, stirring constantly to induce granulation. Boil about ten minutes, when add the butter. Take from the fire and beat as you would eggs, until it begins to look like granulated cream. Put in the vanilla; butter your hands well, make the cream into balls about the size of a large marble, and lay upon a greased dish.

Meanwhile, the chocolate should have been melted by putting it (grated fine) into a tin pail or saucepan and plunging it into another of boiling water. When it is a black syrup, add about two table-spoonfuls of powdered sugar to it, beat smooth, turn out upon a _hot_ dish, and roll the cream-balls in it until sufficiently coated. Lay upon a cold dish to dry, taking care that they do not touch one another.

SUGAR CANDY. +

6 cups of white sugar.

½ cup of butter.

2 table-spoonfuls of vinegar.

½ teaspoonful of soda.

1 cup cold water.

Vanilla flavoring.

Pour water and vinegar upon the sugar, and let them stand, without stirring, until the sugar is melted. Set over the fire and boil fast until it “ropes.” Put in the butter; boil hard two minutes longer, add the dry soda, stir it in and take at once from the fire. Flavor when it ceases to effervesce.

Turn out upon greased dishes, and pull with the tips of your fingers until white.

THE SCRAP-BAG.

FOR SUDDEN HOARSENESS. +

Roast a lemon in the oven, turning now and then, that all sides may be equally cooked. It should not crack, or burst, but be soft all through. Just before going to bed take the lemon (which should be very hot), cut a piece from the top, and fill it with as much white sugar as it will hold.

“Chock-full—do you mean?” asked an old gentleman to whom I recommended the palatable remedy.

“If that is _very_ full—pressed down, and running over—I mean chock-full!” I replied.

Eat all the sugar, filling the lemon with more, as you find it becoming acid.

This simple remedy induces gentle perspiration, besides acting favorably upon the clogged membranes of the throat. I have known it to prove wonderfully efficacious in removing severe attacks of hoarseness.

ANOTHER,

And far less pleasant prescription, is a teaspoonful of vinegar made thick with common salt. Having myself been, in earlier years, more than once the grateful victim of its severely benevolent agency, I cannot but endorse the dose.

But—try the lemon first.

FOR SORE THROAT. +

1 drachm chlorate of potassa dissolved in 1 cupful of hot water.

Let it cool; take a table-spoonful three times a day, and gargle with the same, every hour.

Before retiring at night, rub the outside of the throat, especially the soft portions opposite the tonsils, with a little cold water, made so thick with common salt that the crystals will scratch the skin smartly. Do this faithfully until there is a fair degree of external irritation; then, bind a bit of flannel about the throat.

Free use of cracked or pounded ice is also admirable for sore throat of every kind. The patient should hold bits of ice in his mouth and let them slowly dissolve.

Desperate cases of ulcerated sore throat are sometimes relieved by the constant use of this and the chlorate of potassa gargle.

FOR A COUGH.

Eat slowly, three or four times a day, six lumps of sugar, saturated with the very _best_ whiskey you can get.

Having tested this “old woman’s prescription” for myself, and found in it the messenger of healing to a cough of several months’ standing which had set physicians and cod-liver oil at defiance, I write it down here without scruples or doubt.

FOR CHOLERA SYMPTOMS, +

Summer complaint, or any of the numerous forms of diseased bowels—pin a bandage of _red_ flannel as tightly about the abdomen as is consistent with comfort, having first heated it well at the fire or register. The application is inexpressibly soothing to the racked and inflamed intestines, and will, sometimes, combined with perfect quiet on the part of the patient, and judicious diet, cure even dysentery without medicine. Persons who have chronic maladies of this class should wear the red flannel bandage constantly.

For years, this has been my invariable treatment of the disorders which are, particularly in the summer, the torment of children and terror of mothers, and the results have been most gratifying. I keep in what may be called my “accident drawer,” red flannel, divided into bandages of various lengths, and to these is recourse had in slight, and even violent cases, instead of to drugs. If the patient is suffering intense pain, steep a flannel pad large enough to cover the affected part, in _hot_ spirits (you may add a little laudanum in severe cases) and bind upon the abdomen with the flannel bandage, renewing whenever the sufferer feels that it is growing cold.

Above all things else, _keep the patient quiet_ in bed, if possible, but in a recumbent position—and the feet warm with flannel or bottles of hot water. These are always preferable to bricks, or hot boards for warming the extremities, being clean, safe and good preservers of heat.

The diet should be light and nourishing, avoiding liquids and acids as much as possible. Let the patient quench his thirst by holding small bits of ice in his mouth, or, if he must drink, let him have mucilaginous beverages, such as gum-arabic water. The burning thirst consequent upon these diseases may be measurably allayed by eating, very slowly, dry gum arabic, which has, likewise, curative qualities.

MUSTARD PLASTERS. +

It should be more generally known that a few drops of sweet oil, or lard, rubbed lightly over the surface of a mustard plaster, will prevent it from blistering the skin. The patient may fearlessly wear it all night, if he can bear the burning better than the pain it has relieved temporarily, and be none the worse for the application. This, _I know_, to be infallible, and those who have felt the torture of a mustard-blister, should rejoice to become acquainted with this easy and sure preventive.

A mustard plaster is an excellent remedy for severe and obstinate nausea. It must be applied, _hot_, to the pit of the stomach. In less serious cases, flannel, dipped in hot camphor, wrung out and applied, still smoking, will often succeed. A drop of camphor in a single teaspoonful of water, given every twenty minutes, for an hour or so, is also a good palliative of nausea.

FOR NAUSEA. +

But the specific for nausea, from whatever cause, is HOSFORD’S ACID PHOSPHATE, a by no means unpleasant medicine. Put twenty drops into a goblet of ice-water; add a little sugar, and let the patient sip it, a teaspoonful, at a time, every ten or fifteen minutes. Or, where more active measures are required, give a drop in a teaspoonful of water, every five minutes for an hour. At the same time use the mustard plaster as above directed.

My reader, to whatever “school” she may belong, would not frown at what may seem to her like unlawful dabbling in the mysteries of medicine, had she stood with me beside the bed of a woman who had not been able, for three days and nights, to retain a particle of nourishment upon her stomach; who was pronounced by physicians to be actually dying of nausea—and seen her relieved of all dangerous symptoms, within the hour, by the harmless palliative I have named.

_Inter nos_, sister mine, in the matter of drugs I am heterodox, choosing, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, to trust dear old, Mother Nature, and skillful, intelligent nursing. But to become a good nurse one should possess some knowledge of Materia Medica, especially in the matter of what are known as “simples.”

FOR CHAPPED HANDS AND LIPS. +

First, wash the hands with Indian, or oatmeal and water, and wipe them _perfectly dry_. Then—do this just before retiring for the night—rub the chapped members well with melted—not hot-mutton-tallow, “tried out” _pur et simple_, or beaten up, while warm, with a little rose-water. Lubricate thoroughly; draw a pair of old kid gloves—never black ones—upon your hands, and do not remove them until morning. A single application will usually effect a cure, but should it fail, repeat the treatment for two or three nights.

FOR SORE EYES. +

Beat up half a teaspoonful of powdered alum to a curd with the white of an egg; spread upon soft linen, and lay on the inflamed lid. It is a soothing, and often potent remedy.

Strong tea, black, green, or mixed, strained and cold, is an excellent eye-wash. At night, lay cold tea-leaves within a soft linen bag, squeeze almost dry, and bind over the eye.

For a stye, many physicians advise the sufferer to take internally brewer’s yeast, a table-spoonful at a dose. It is sometimes singularly successful, being a good purifier of the blood.

MIXTURE FOR CLEANING BLACK CLOTH, OR WORSTED DRESSES.

Equal quantities of strong black tea and alcohol.

Fine scented soap.

Dip a sponge in boiling water, squeeze as dry as you can, and rub while hot, upon the sweet soap. Wet with the mixture of tea and alcohol, and sponge the worsted material to be cleaned, freely. Bub the spots hard, washing out the sponge frequently in hot water, then squeezing it. Finally, sponge off the whole surface of the cloth quickly with the mixture, wiping always in one direction if you are cleansing broadcloth.

Iron, while very damp, on the wrong side.

CLEANSING CREAM.

1 ounce pure glycerine.

1 ounce ether.

1 ounce spirits of wine.

¼ pound best Castile soap.

¼ pound ammonia.

The soap must be scraped fine, the rest of the materials worked into it.

To use it, wet a soft flannel cloth with it; rub grease and dirt-spots upon worsted garments or black silk, until the cloth is well impregnated with the cream. Then sponge off with clean hot water, and rub dry with a clean cloth.

TO CLEAN MARBLE. +

The pumice soap made by the Indexical Soap Manufacturing Co., Boston, Mass., is the best preparation I have ever used for removing dirt and stains from marble. I have even extracted ink-spots with it. Wet a soft flannel cloth, rub on the soap, then on the stain, and wash the whole surface of mantel or slab with the same, to take off dust, grease, etc. Wash off with fair water, and rub dry. The polish of the marble is rather improved than injured by the process. The same soap is invaluable in a family for removing ink, fruit-stains, and even paint from the hands. The makers of the pumice soap, Robinson & Co., are also the manufacturers of the “silver soap,” for cleaning plate which has nearly superseded all plate-powders, whiting, etc., formerly used for this purpose.

PUMPKIN FLOUR. +

I remind myself, comically, while jotting down these items of domestic practicalities, of the lucky chicken of the brood, who, not content with having secured her tit-bit of crumb, seed, or worm, noisily calls the attention of all her sisters to the fact. I never secure even a small prize in the housewifely line, but I am seized with the desire to spread the knowledge of the same.

About three months ago, my very courteous and intelligent grocer (I think sometimes, that nobody else was ever blessed with such merchants of almost every article needed for family use, as those with whom I deal) handed me, for inspection, a small box of what looked like yellow tooth-powder, and smelled like vanilla and orris-root. It was pumpkin flour, he explained—the genuine pumpkin, desiccated by the “Alden process,” and ground very fine. I took it home for the sake of the goodly smell, and because it looked “nice.”

The pies made from it were delicious beyond all my former experience in Thanksgiving desserts—a soft, smooth, luscious custard, procured without cost of stewing, straining, etc. And the flavor of them upon the tongue fully justified the promise of the odor that had bewitched me. It is seldom in a lifetime that one finds a thing which looks “nice,” smells nicer, and tastes nicest of all. If you, dearest and patientest of readers, who never quarrel with my digressions, and hearken indulgently to my rhodomontades, doubt now whether I am in very earnest, try my pumpkin flour, and bear witness with me to its excellence.[B]

ANOTHER TREASURE.

Those who are fond of Julienne soups, and would oftener please themselves and their families by making or ordering them, were not the work of preparing the vegetables properly, tedious, and so often a failure, should not hesitate to purchase freely the packages of shred and dried vegetables now put up expressly for Julienne soups, and sold in nearly all first-class groceries. They are imported from France, but are not at all expensive. Full directions for their use accompany them.

SEYMOUR PUDDING.

½ cup of molasses.

½ cup of milk.

½ cup of raisins, seeded, and cut in half.

½ cup of currants.

½ cup of suet, powdered.

½ teaspoonful of soda.

1 egg.

1½ cups of Graham flour.

Spice, and salt to taste.

Boil, or steam for 2½ hours.

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE.

1 cup of powdered sugar.

1 table-spoonful of butter, rubbed into the sugar.

3 eggs.

1 cup prepared flour—a heaping cup.

2 table-spoonfuls of cream.

Bake in three jelly-cake tins.

When quite cold, lay between the cakes nearly a quart of fresh, ripe strawberries. Sprinkle each layer lightly with powdered sugar, and strew the same thickly over the uppermost cake. Eat while fresh.

WELSH RAREBIT.

½ pound of English cheese.

3 eggs, well beaten.

1 scant cup of fine bread-crumbs.

3 table-spoonfuls of butter, melted.

2 teaspoonfuls of made mustard.

1 saltspoonful of salt.

Mix all well together, and beat to a smooth paste. Have ready some slices of toasted bread, from which the crust has been pared; spread them thickly with the mixture, and set them upon the upper grating of the oven until they are slightly browned. Serve at once.

PARTING WORDS.

ONLY a few, lest the patience I have already had occasion—and more than once—to praise, should fail at the last pages. And if, in my desire to be brief, I seem abrupt, you will understand that it is not because I do not enjoy talking with, and at you.

Be honest with me! Have you ever, in studying these two volumes which I have tried to make as little dry as the subject would admit, whispered, or thought something that implied a likeness between the author and the anonymous gentleman, in whose garden—

“The wild brier,
The thorn and the thistle grew higher and higher?”

I used to know Watts from title-page to “finis.” I have taken pains to forget the creaking numbers of his pious machinery of late years. But wasn’t the aforesaid personage the one who “talked of eating and drinking?” Have you ever said, ’twixt amusement and impatience, “This woman thinks all women born to be cooks, and nothing more?” As I look at the matter of every-day and necessary duty—the routine of common life—“common” meaning anything but vulgar—there are certain things which _must_ be learned, whether one have a natural bias for them or no. All men and women who would maintain a respectable position in this enlightened land at this day, must learn how to read and write; must possess a fair knowledge of the multiplication-table, have a tolerably correct impression as to what hemisphere and zone they live in, whether in a kingdom or republic; must be able to describe the shape of the earth, and to tell who is the President of the United States. Next to these, in my opinion, stands the necessity that every woman should know how to use her needle deftly, and have a practical acquaintance with the leading principles of cookery. The acquisition of these homely accomplishments can never, in any circumstances, harm her. The probability is, that she cannot perform her part aright as spinster, wife, mother, or mistress without them.

I have a lovely child waiting for me on the “thither shore,” whose many playful and earnest sayings are still quoted by us in our family talks, quite as often with smiles as with tears. Hers was a sunny life. We knew that should the Father prolong her earthly existence into womanhood, the power of _making_ her happiness would be no longer ours. But while our children _were_ children, to us belonged the precious prerogative of flooding their hearts with delight, making of home a haven of joy and peace they would never forget, whatever the coming years might bring. Our darling, then, was a happy, healthy child, and symmetrical in mind as body—learning readily, and usually with ease, the simple lessons suited to her years. Yet at nine years of age, she said to me one night before going to bed:

“Mamma, when I remember as I lay my head on the pillow, every night, that I have to say the 9 column of the multiplication-table to-morrow, I could almost wish that I could die in my sleep, and the morning never come!”

With my heart aching in the great pity I could ill-express to one so young, I took her in my arms and told her of the need she would have, in after-life, of the knowledge gained so hardly; how, setting aside the actual utility of the multiplication-table, she would be better, wiser, stronger, always for the discipline of the study.