Chapter II: Part 2
Because you may think I don't know how to make one if I say nothing, I suppose I shall have to offer a word or so about Welsh rabbits. Melt an ounce of butter in the chafing-dish and then stir in and let melt slowly a pound of cheese cut up into very small pieces. Season this as you go along with paprika, a little salt, and mustard as you think you like it. When the cheese is quite melted pour in, very slowly, a little beer or ale, about two gills in all. Then when it is well blended with the cheese stir in a couple of eggs well beaten and serve on crackers. Did you ever try making your rabbits with ginger ale? Really they are good in that way, and it is very palatable to drink when you are eating them. And cider is delicious served with rabbits, also--the champagne cider. Try it some time.
Golden Buck
For a golden buck, prepare the cheese as for a rabbit, but on each plate when you are serving it place a poached egg. These must be prepared in another dish while the rabbit is under process of construction. So, you see, I wasn't so far off in my calculations, rapid as they seemed to you at the time, when I said my little say about seven chafing dishes.
Eggs Poached in Tomato
Suppose you have on hand a pint of rich tomato sauce. Heat this in the chafing-dish and poach in it two eggs. Lift them out and lay on a hot dish while you poach two more. Continue in this way till you have half-a-dozen eggs poached. Serve one or two as you like, on a slice of toast or fried bread, pour some of the tomato sauce round, sprinkle grated Parmesan cheese over each and send them around the table on their mission.
Curried Eggs
If you are fond of curry try some curried eggs. Melt in the chafing-dish two ounces of butter, and fry in it two small onions, sliced; take these out and stir in a dessertspoonful of curry powder and a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce. When these are well mixed add half a dozen well-beaten eggs. Cook quickly and serve.
Creamed Chicken
Perhaps you have a pet recipe for creamed chicken, and I don't doubt it is all such a recipe should be; but let me suggest that, instead of putting chicken and cream and all the other things into the chafing-dish at the same time, you melt the butter first and then stir in the chicken and let it cook for two or three minutes before you put in the cream, or béchamel, or whatever it is you use. The flavor of the dish will be very much richer and more palatable to most persons. For, between ourselves, I think that creamed chicken is apt to be rather a flat and tasteless affair, and will stand quite a little bracing up.
I hope you won't want to spoil the taste of any of these dishes by having sweets after them, in the way of fancy cakes, etc. If you do, you may choose them for yourselves. I'll have none of them.
MARCH
"_So comes a reckoning when the banquet's o'er,--
The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more._"
THERE couldn't be a better time than the present in which to have a smoke-talk, mesdames. There, there, now, pray don't be alarmed; I've no notion of passing round any of the popular brands of cigars. Neither would I so much as offer you cigarettes, albeit the latest scientific utterance has pronounced them harmless.
No, our talk shall be of some of the smoked and salted viands that, while they may not perhaps come under the head of delicacies or indelicacies of the season, are decidedly appetizing, and quite worthy of having considerable attention given to the best ways and means of serving them.
Salt Fish with Cream
And haven't you been saddened hundreds of times when reflecting upon the disregard of details that makes of a dish of salt-fish and cream nothing but a pasty and altogether horrid mess? But a dish of salted cod becomes delicacy itself if the fish is shredded while raw, all skin and bone removed, washed several times in cold water and cooked in plenty of fresh water; then it should be drained and covered with cream, which has been heated and thickened with an egg or two beaten up well in a tablespoonful or so of cream; add a dash of cayenne, to give it a zest, and you have prepared for breakfast or luncheon a dainty that will quite justify you in fancying yourself for the rest of the day. And that's a wonderfully comfortable state of mind in which to find oneself.
Salt Fish with Brown Butter
Perhaps, however, for a luncheon dish you would rather have the codfish served with brown butter. In which case you flake and freshen it as before, and cook in plenty of water. Take it up on a hot dish and pour over it a sauce made of butter, in which you have fried minced onion and a handful of chopped parsley till they are brown. And you can vary this sauce infinitely: add a bay leaf or two, or a few capers, or some chopped sweet red peppers, and get a new flavor with each addition.
The subject of codfish balls I won't take up here. I fear I might make it too exhaustive. And, besides, every housekeeper seems to have a chosen way for preparing them.
Fried Cods' Tongues
I wish as much could be said about that too-little-appreciated genuine delicacy--fresh cods' tongues. They are delicious when boiled till tender, and then served with brown butter, as suggested above for codfish. And they are just as good, and some think even better, if they are dipped in milk, then rolled one by one in flour, and fried in plenty of butter for about ten minutes. You can simply pour the butter on them when serving, with a little chopped parsley scattered over all, or you can put into the frying-pan, after taking the tongues out, a gill or two of tomato sauce, and serve this separately in a sauceboat, serving each tongue on a slice of toast. Usually it will be found necessary to soak the salted tongues for twenty-four hours or more in water, changing it once or twice, as seems necessary.
To be sure there's considerable trouble and no small amount of care involved in having these edibles, or any others, for that matter, quite as one would like, but some old wiseacre has said that life's cares are its comforts, and if one only has a firm belief, rooted and grounded in past experience, in this bit of philosophy it's just as easy to apply it to cooking as to painting.
Broiled Smoked Salmon
And a little of this care used in the broiling of smoked salmon redeems it from the charred and uninviting dish it too often makes. It is best to cut the salmon into small strips, wrap each strip in a piece of buttered paper, and then broil over a clear fire. When done remove the paper, and serve the fish on a piping hot dish, at once. And if you want a sauce for it make one by cooking a minced onion in a gill of vinegar and twice as much water, adding, as the onion shows signs of tenderness, two ounces of fresh butter, four finely chopped hard-boiled egg yolks, and a little chopped parsley.
Boiled Salt Mackerel, with Horse-radish Sauce
Of course you know how to cook salt mackerel--you could sue me for libel if I said aught to the contrary. But do you, I wonder, ever try preparing it in my favorite way? This is the manner of it: Soak the mackerel for twelve hours, changing the water several times. Then boil it in an abundance of water, in which there is a bay leaf, two or three onions, some parsley and the juice of a lemon. The fish should cook very slowly, and not be allowed to come to pieces. When they are done, serve them on a folded napkin, with a sauce made by reducing a pint of cream to one-half, adding to it an ounce of butter, and thickening it with two egg yolks. Then add to it half its quantity of grated horse-radish, heating it again, without boiling. In most cases it is necessary to add salt to this sauce, but I prescribe no quantity. I only advise being skittish about the amount when it is to be used for a salt fish. If you are to have smoked mackerel, broil instead of boiling it and serve with it the cream horse-radish sauce.
Smoked Herring Fried
And then there are smoked and salted herring, that if cooked judiciously make life at least a bit more comfortable. It is best to soak them for five or six hours in water and then for two hours in sweet, fresh milk, after which you can work out some wonderful dishes with them. If they have been salted only, fry in butter and serve them on potatoes mashed with cream. But if the herring are smoked as well as salted, split them down the back and cook in enough milk to cover. Cook till thoroughly done, and then serve on a very hot dish with branches of parsley around, and a little sweet rich cream poured over them.
Finnan Haddies with Cream
But, to my thinking, the best of all the smoked and salted fish are the finnan haddies. And one of the best ways of cooking them is as per that last described for cooking herring. But the haddies are much less salt, and require little, if any, soaking. Or, if you prefer, you can put them in a buttered baking-pan, pour cream and bread crumbs over them and brown in a hot oven. Give them a little more cream when serving. And again after you and your household have partaken of this dish and pronounced it good, hard to beat, etc., you will have occasion to be pleased with yourself, which, being interpreted, means of course being perfectly satisfied with all the world.
* * * * *
It is possible, nay, probable, that you, mesdames, with all the calls that the Lenten season makes upon your spiritual selves, find little time for ordering or arranging dinners; furthermore--and it's in no way to your discredit--it may be that with so much of each day given over to reflection and concentrated thought you experience a sort of disinclination to give heed to things material. Therefore it behooves me to be alive to my duty, which in the premises certainly seems to prescribe that I shall think and plan a bit for you; and I herewith submit, as the result of a goodly amount of cogitation on my part, a menu which I hope will strike you as being a very good sort of "working model," should you not care to follow it to the letter:--
Consommé maigre with asparagus points.
Lake trout with court bouillon.
Macaroni timbales with tomato sauce.
Casserole of fillets of sole.
Oyster soufflés.
Coffee cream glacée. Almond pudding.
You see that such a menu provides a dinner perfectly within the rule implied by "_diner maigre_," though it can in no sense be called a fast-day dinner. In fact, the very phrase is a contradiction. If you are fasting, you do not dine; you simply eat to live--a very different thing.
And now for particulars. No need to tell you how to make the soup; you have stacks of cookery books that will give you the information necessary for the making of a good clear consommé. As for the asparagus points, it will be quite as well from all points of view to buy the canned asparagus tips, and cook a little in salted water, adding them to the soup about five minutes before it is served.
Boiled Lake Trout
Perhaps your housekeepers' guides may not be sufficiently explicit in regard to cooking the lake trout in the manner suggested, so I will tell you in detail. In the first place, you take equal quantities of white French wine--as inexpensive as you please--and water, one small onion, a bouquet of parsley, thyme, etc., some peppercorns, and a proper amount of salt. Let this boil for fifteen minutes, and you have as good a court bouillon as one could wish. Into it put the trout, tied into any shape you desire, and boil until tender; remove it, and serve on a fish paper or napkin; garnish with fresh green parsley sprays. For the sauce, you will melt some butter in a part of the court bouillon, and serve separately. You should find good lake trout in the market now, and at a price that doesn't confine them to the list of luxuries. Aren't you glad?
Macaroni Timbales
Have you any idea how many ways are known to expert cooks for preparing macaroni? I haven't. But I should not be surprised to see offered for sale any day a publication setting forth "One Thousand Ways to Cook Macaroni," and I hope that macaroni timbales, in case such an event comes to pass, will be given the place of honor. Try making them in this way, and you will agree with me. Boil the macaroni in plenty of salted water till it is tender, but not "mushy." Drain off the water, and add, with all thoughts of economy thrown to the winds, melted butter; stir it in well, and add a goodly sprinkling of grated Parmesan cheese and cayenne pepper. Line a mould with the very best puff-paste you know how to make, rolled as thinly as possible, and put in the macaroni; cover with a round of the paste, lay a sheet of buttered paper over the top, and bake in a hot oven for about thirty minutes. Unmould on a hot dish, and pour round it some tomato sauce made from the best recipe given in any of your gastronomical literature.
Casserole of Fillets of Sole
Then consult the aforesaid literature still further, and select therefrom the most appetizing recipe for making a stuffing of bread-crumbs, when you have it properly prepared spread with it some fillets of sole, and tie them into shape with a little thread. Now put into a casserole, or stewpan, three or four ounces of butter, two minced onions, and the fish; let it fry for five or six minutes, then add to it two or three gills of béchamel sauce (see cookery books once more), a cupful of chopped mushrooms, and a claret-glass of claret. Cover the pan closely, and cook in the oven for half an hour. When finished, remove the strings from the fillets, and serve in a deep dish with the liquor in which they were cooked poured over them. And there you have a dish fit to tickle the palate of any king, or knave, that ever lived. Later in the season, when lobsters are selling at a more reasonable price, try substituting them for the soles, and your delight will be increased several-fold.
Oyster Soufflés
Very likely you know as much or more than I do about making oyster soufflés, but, be that as it may, I have the floor, and am going to tell you what I do know about them, for I may never get another chance. My way is to blanch two dozen good oysters in their own liquor, then cut them into dice, and while they are cooling prepare a sauce of two ounces each of butter and flour, a dust of cayenne, a little salt, the yolks of three eggs, and half a pint of rich milk; when it is thick enough and smooth enough I put in the oysters and their liquor, pour the mixture into little soufflé cases, sprinkle each with browned bread-crumbs and bits of butter, and bake in a moderate oven for eighteen minutes; then serve at once. How do you think you would like to try that way of making them?
Coffee Cream Glacée
Now, you will admit that I very seldom presume to tell you how to prepare sweets, but to-day my story would be incomplete if I were to omit the directions for making a coffee cream glacée. It is easy as can be; that is, if you can freeze things. Beat the yolks of four eggs in a basin with four ounces of powdered sugar, standing the basin in another of hot water, so that they may get quite warm, but not hot; add to them a gill of strong coffee, beat it all together till it is light and creamy and quite cold. Then add to it a pint of stiffly whipped cream, pour the mixture into a mould, and bury in ice and salt for two hours. Unmould on the prettiest piece of lace paper you have when serving.
Almond Pudding
Perhaps I run the risk of overdoing the matter by telling you how to make an almond pudding, but it does harmonize so delightfully with coffee glacée that 'twould be actually sinful to leave you in ignorance of how it is made. It's simple, too, simple as a b c. You just beat up the yolks of five and the whites of three eggs with a large tablespoonful of rose-water, and add gradually to it four ounces of powdered sugar and four ounces of freshly ground almonds, mixed with a few small whole ones. Beat this thoroughly for ten or fifteen minutes, pour into a well-buttered pie-dish and bake. When half-cooked, garnish with strips of candied orange peel and blanched almonds. And if you have any of the pudding left, which is doubtful, you will find that it makes an excellent five-o'clock tea cake, for it is quite as good cold as hot.
Now, have I not given you a good ground plan, so to speak, for Lenten dinners? It is the easiest thing in the world to leave out a part of it, or add to it, for that matter, for it is composed wholly of neutral tints, you might say, and almost any viand under the sun will dovetail with it, if you wish to elaborate it.
* * * * *
I really don't know the first thing about the dietetic properties of eggs, for which ignorance I am truly grateful, because I have always noticed that once a man or a woman gets where the healthfulness or the hurtfulness of any edible becomes the first consideration all real pleasure to be found in dining has for that man or woman lost half its charm.
Neither could I guess, though I had a dozen chances, whether the fact that eggs form the backbone of so many meals during Lent has its foundation in history, or some religious rite. And I am also content to remain uninformed on this point.
But I do know that at market these days the sign "strictly fresh eggs" is the most noticeable feature on every hand; and I know, too, that there are a good many housekeepers who fairly long to know of some way in which to improve upon the neutral flavor of an egg so that it may become dainty, savory or delicately sweet as the case may seem to require.
Eggs Curdled in Cream
To begin with the savory list: Some fine morning when you are to have for breakfast just an appetizing bit of broiled salted herring, try cooking some eggs in this way--Put half a pint of cream into a saucepan and let it boil. Stir into it five well-beaten eggs, seasoned with salt and pepper. Let this mixture curdle, then turn it out on to a hot dish and brown it quickly with a salamander; and you'll be at a loss to know whether it's the herring that makes the egg taste so well, or if it's the egg that makes the herring so remarkably palatable.
Eggs, Epicurean Style
Another delicious way of serving eggs for breakfast is to have, as a beginning, say one dozen eggs and boil them till hard; take off their shells, cut them in halves and rub the yolks through a fine sieve; put an ounce of butter and one cupful of cream into a saucepan, season it with salt and white pepper and thicken with a very little flour. When it is quite hot but not boiling stir into it half of the whites of the eggs, chopped, and the yolks. Arrange the remainder of the whites on a dish, pour the mixture over them, and serve piping hot. You see the eggs can be boiled and prepared the day before, and there's very little to be done to get them ready for breakfast. Now, should you want to make this into a more savory dish, you could easily add a little minced ham, the juice of an onion, or some minced olives and a few mushrooms, and have by so doing a delectable luncheon dish that would go admirably with, say, some cold sliced tongue or with pickled lambs' tongues.
Baked Eggs
A particularly savory dish of eggs is made by frying two small minced onions in butter till they are brown; then mix with them a dessertspoonful of vinegar, a very little salt, and some pepper. Butter a dish, spread the onions over it, break over them half a dozen eggs, and put into a hot oven. When the eggs are cooked sufficiently, cover them with a layer of bread-crumbs that have been fried in butter, and serve. The bread-crumbs must be hot, of course. Try this some day at luncheon when you are having broiled pigs' feet and potato croquettes.
Egg Toast with Cheese
And if it doesn't turn out the success you hoped, the next day you might take some very thin slices of bread, trim off the crusts, lay on a well-buttered dish, and cover with very thin slices of cheese. Beat up well enough eggs to cover the bread, season with salt and a little cayenne pepper, and pour them over the slices. Put the dish in a moderate oven and bake until the eggs are set. Serve while very hot in the same dish. If you prefer, you may use in place of the sliced cheese some grated Parmesan cheese sprinkled over the bread, and sprinkle a little over the eggs too.
Eggs in Tomato Purée
Eggs scrambled in tomato purée make a delectable dish for luncheon, or for dinner as an entrée. Have half a pint of rich tomato purée, and cook in it half-a-dozen well beaten eggs; pour the whole into a deep dish, and serve with it some bread croutons. Some finely cut up chives will at times be thought an improvement to this dish.
Scrambled Eggs with Truffles
And there are scrambled eggs with truffles that are good enough for any time or place. Cook four sliced truffles in a wineglass of Madeira for about two minutes; then put in a tablespoonful of butter, and season with salt and white pepper. Break eight eggs and without beating stir them well with a wooden spoon in the wine for three minutes, cooking quickly all the while. Serve in a hot dish.
Caviare Omelets
If one is fond of caviare (and who isn't nowadays?), an omelet with caviare is most tempting. Make an omelet of the desired number of eggs, and just before folding over spread it with a layer of caviare diluted with a little béchamel sauce. After the omelet is dished, garnish with parsley.
Spanish Omelet
You will find in your hunts for Spanish omelet recipes that they will turn up as thick as bees in a hive, after which you will let the different directions for this savory dish foment in your mind till you get what seems to be the best from each and turn out one that is your very own, and entitled to be known to your friends as "Spanish omelet _à la_ Madame Featherstonaugh"--or whatever name has the honor to belong to you. My recipe you shall have till you get one of your own, however. To begin with, have a rich tomato purée; to this you add chopped pimentos or sweet Spanish peppers _con amore_, then a bit of fried chopped onion, a few mushrooms, also cooked, and diced cold cooked tongue or ham, preferably tongue. Take any liberties with it that you like, pray. Don't think you must follow it to the letter. I rarely do, to be candid with you. I have used cold chicken, cold duck, and also cold goose, when the larder has been bereft of ham or tongue; and not one of my household dared to say anything shady about it.
Omelet with Chicken Liver
Of course, every housekeeper has a chicken liver omelet recipe among her belongings, and made in the most ordinary way they are pretty sure to be worth the eating; but if the livers are cooked in a little butter, and then a little Madeira is added to the butter, the omelet is far and away ahead of those made by ordinary recipes, as you will see by trying it.
Jelly Omelet
When it comes to an omelet for dessert, nothing can be better than an omelet stuffed with preserves or fresh fruit. If preserves are used, there's a wide range from which to select, and any taste can be satisfied. Fill it with currant jelly, or apricot or grapefruit marmalade, or any other fruit that you like. In almost any case a little grated lemon peel and a handful of chopped almonds will be an improvement. After the omelet is dished it should always be sprinkled with finely powdered sugar.
Strawberry Omelet
You might in the way of fresh fruits use some of the strawberries that are of respectable flavor and price now. Get a box some day of the best-looking ones you can find, and sort them over. Save out about half of them, the fairest ones in the lot, cut in halves, and put them in a bowl with two heaping tablespoonfuls of sugar, a piece of orange peel, and two teaspoonfuls of rum, and set them in a cool place. Press the remainder of the strawberries through a fine sieve, and sweeten well. Make an omelet of six eggs, and before folding over fill it with the cut-up strawberries, without any of the liquid. Dish the omelet, sprinkle with powdered sugar, and pour around it the juice of the strawberries, to which has been added the liquid from the halved strawberries. It's a delicate dish, indeed, and you will find that it will be a favorite at any table.
Célestine Omelet
If you have a recipe for Célestine omelets, small ones, of which you are very much enamored, this paragraph will not interest you. But if you are at odds with the one you have, glance through this. Make as many small omelets as you think will be required, one egg to each, with yolk and white beaten separately. Put them on a hot dish, cover with a thin layer of peach marmalade, and on this sprinkle chopped candied fruits with a few chopped almonds, and over all spread whipped cream. Work at chain-lightning speed in preparing this after the omelets are dished, and get to the table in even quicker time, if you would know this dish in perfection. Though if anything happens to cause you to slacken your pace a bit, it will be worth the having, for it will bear shading down a trifle from the top-notch. Or, make the eggs into one large omelet, and before folding it over fill with the jam and fruits, and sprinkle the almonds and whipped cream over it after it is dished.
Snow Eggs
Then there's a dish called "Snow Eggs" that's just as inoffensive as it sounds. You beat the whites of four eggs to a stiff froth, and then drop them a spoonful at a time into boiling milk till they poach a bit. Take them out, thicken the milk with the yolks, adding sugar and any desired flavoring. Pour this over the poached whites, dish, and sprinkle with chopped macaroons before serving.
Omelette Soufflée
It wouldn't be fair to omit any mention of an omelette soufflée in a chapter on eggs; so here it shall go, though for myself I don't care for it. It has always seemed to me like a dessert to be served when a dessert wasn't really needed or wanted, but because a dessert of some kind must go down to make the luncheon or dinner complete. Separate, then, the yolks and whites of five eggs. Beat the yolks and half a cup of sugar together for ten minutes. Flavor with a little rose-water. Then turn to the whites, and beat them to the stiffest kind of a froth. Butter a soufflé dish, and pour the mixture into it. Bake for twelve minutes, and send to table. The guests should always be waiting for an omelette soufflée, mind. Never force the omelet to do the waiting--it isn't giving it a fair chance.
APRIL
"_The best doctors in the world are Doctor Diet, Doctor Quiet,
and Doctor Merryman._"
THE very first thing to be done on Easter morning is to get up in time to see the sun dance; for, as you probably know, not a bit of good luck will be yours for the year to come if laziness, or anything, in fact, save cloudy skies, prevents your beholding this phenomenon. But it is possible that you don't know that this means nothing less than to be facing the east with eagle eye and steady nerve at a pretty early hour. Rather rough, isn't it? How would it do, then, to sit up all night in order to be on hand to witness the fancy steps of the god of day? You could do that and then have a good long nap, after which you might be refreshed by a breakfast of shad roes (they're about as inexpensive now as they will be), broiled to a turn, with a little melted butter and lemon juice, judiciously mixed, poured over them; dainty, crisp lettuce hearts, salted a bit; graham bread, thinly sliced, and toasted to that shade known the world over as "epicurean brown;" and lastly, instead of coffee, a steaming, fragrant, appetizing cup of English breakfast tea. My word for it, you will be tempted to linger over this breakfast, but stern duty permits no such loitering. No, indeed; you must be up and away, or how on earth are you going to make certain comparisons that shall confirm you in your belief that your new bonnet is nothing less than a dream? Dear knows, I hope you won't see any headgear that will take the shine off your own, for then you will be sure to go home out of sorts, and the charming little dinner menu that I have compiled for your use and behoof might as well be of corned beef and cabbage for all the appreciation it will get from you.
Clam Cocktails
But in case that everything does go smoothly, and nothing happens to nick your peace of mind, could anything be more delectable than a dinner which would unfold itself to your delighted palate in this order? To begin with: Clam cocktails, made, of course, with the little-neck variety; they should be put in half-dozen lots into small glasses, and seasoned with lemon juice, tabasco, salt, and the tiniest suspicion of onion juice--just enough, you understand, to cause one to wonder if that delightful flavor is really onion.
And then to follow up the good impression left by the clam cocktails, have a soup of consommé of perfect flavor and delicacy--the sort, you know, that doesn't jar with what has gone before or is to come.
The "to come" in this case might be, say, of trout, broiled to a nicety and served with tartar sauce. But if for financial reasons you object to the trout, why, then you may get good salmon from the West, or pompano, and bluefish of fairly good flavor. But whatever fish you decide upon, have it broiled, so that you may serve it with some delicious hothouse cucumbers. Quite a little fall in the price of cucumbers you will see within the next two or three weeks.
Lamb Steak; Béarnaise Sauce
And the price of spring lamb has dropped perceptibly too by this time. Now, please, whichever part of the lamb you select, don't have it roasted. Have it sliced for steaks, and broiled to the stage most in favor in your family circle, then salted well, but buttered sparingly, as you must--there is no use in trying to dodge the issue--serve a Béarnaise sauce with lamb steak. Have lobster salad without the lobster, omit the crabs from devilled crabs, if it pleases you, but never under any circumstances serve a lamb steak without a Béarnaise sauce. It would be barbarism--nothing short of it! And to make the sauce? Well, put into a saucepan a gill of vinegar and water, equal parts, half a teaspoonful of minced onion, and a few tarragon leaves. Let this cook, tightly covered, till reduced one-half; then take it off the fire, and when cold mix with it the well-beaten yolks of four eggs; season with salt and mignonette, and return to the fire; add slowly to it three ounces of melted butter, stirring continually till it thickens to the consistency of mayonnaise. Then strain it through a fine sieve, and add to it chopped tarragon, a teaspoonful, and the same quantity of chopped parsley.
Potatoes Soufflées
And there's just one way to cook potatoes so that they seem quite good enough to accompany a lamb steak, and that way is called potatoes soufflées. The potatoes should be trimmed to ovals two and a quarter inches long by one and a quarter wide, and then sliced lengthwise, having the slices half an inch in thickness. When they are sliced, put them into ice-water to remain twenty-five minutes. Then have ready two pans of frying fat, one just hot and the other piping hot. Into the former put the potatoes, in a frying-basket, and let them cook without browning till tender; take them out, place on a sieve to cool and dry somewhat, and then plunge them into the pan containing the piping hot fat; stir them about, and they will begin to souffler; then they must be taken out, salted and served.
Now, if anything happens to prevent this course from turning out the howling success that I predict for it, I want you to go to my favorite dining place the next time you are in New York and order "the same." You will know then what these two dishes are in perfection.
It may be that a salad of new beets would be quite the thing on this occasion; if so, you will have no trouble in finding them in good condition, and as sweet as a new beet should be.
Here endeth my part of the lesson.
Set your own pace for a dessert.
* * * * *
Although I am prepared to sit up nights to sympathize with any one who is really deserving of having me share that emotion with her, I don't have a particle of desire to weep with the woman who weeps because visitors have dropped in on her suddenly and caught her with her cupboard bare. In these days of canned things the woman whose larder doesn't boast as a continuous performance at least half a dozen varieties was never meant for a housekeeper.
For my part, I should think I was remiss in the duties of a housekeeper if I did not have half a dozen varieties of canned soup alone from which to select in time of need.
Sardine Toast
Start, then, we will say, an impromptu lunch with a soup canned by any one of the sixteen firms, more or less, that so prepare them. Of course, there will be sardines--the stand-by of all housekeepers; but you will have sardine toast--a rarity with almost every one. Wipe the skin off the sardines with a dry cloth. The toasted bread is free from all crust, mind, and it is spread with butter mixed with lemon juice and chopped parsley. The sardines are laid on it, and the whole arrangement set in the oven to heat.
Anchovy Toast
Just as tempting a bouchée is an anchovy toast. Chop the anchovies, and add to them bits of parsley, a suspicion of onion juice, a few drops of lemon juice, and some paprika. Spread this on toast which has been buttered, and heat quickly in the oven.
Tunny-Fish
Then, there's tunny-fish always to be depended upon to furnish an impromptu dish that seems like one planned long before. Drain it from the oil in which it is preserved. Lay it on a dish, sprinkle with lemon juice, chopped parsley, and capers; and keep your eyes open for the admiring glances your guests will be trying to hide from you when they first taste of it.
Then smoked, boneless herring, you know, are good almost any way; but broiled till they curl up a bit over a hot fire, and sent to table flanked by olives, water crackers, and a bottle or two of lager beer, they are leaders.
Of course, with two or three kinds of devilled meats in the house the making of sandwiches, even at short notice, is just a pastime; and with all the crackers now to be had it would be foolish to waste tears over the absence of bread. In fact, the world, the market, and the grocery store are filled to the brim with substitutes nowadays--substitutes that make it easy to forget originals.
Although 'tis by signs of promises soon to be richly fulfilled that a market interests me chiefly at this season, there is no lack even to-day of a good supply of edibles, both substantial and delicate, and do I go a-marketing determined to buy everything on an economical basis I find Dame Nature and the marketman in league to help me furnish forth my table daintily and inexpensively. Or, if in a reckless mood of extravagance I betake myself to the vendor of viands, I find him and the dear old dame quite as helpful in carrying out my plans.
Naturally, in trips to market, my methodical mind leads me to inquire first what is suitable for breakfast; what is best calculated to minister to an appetite capricious in the fickle springtime. Numerous answers are forthcoming to my inquiry, the first of which says shad roes made into delicious croquettes with a garnishing of lettuce hearts. Very good, I say, very appropriate, but what else is there?--every one doesn't care for that dish. And then, taking the matter into my own hands, as the marketman is perfectly willing that I should, I peer around to see what is to be had, and make notes mentally for future use. There are mackerel of finest flavor, which, if broiled to a turn and having as an accompaniment crisp, fresh radishes, are fit to put before a king. Another breakfast dish, which is also quite good enough for any royal person, is of kidneys broiled on skewers with alternate slices of bacon. A bit of parsley serves not only to decorate this last dish, but forms a piquant relish for it, and relishes for breakfast dishes are more of a necessity now than at any other season. The orange juice which has proved so potent an appetizer when the mercury ranges near to zero, fails to supply the needed zest for a springtime morning meal, and we must have recourse to a fresh green vegetable, in addition.
From breakfast fare to luncheon dishes I turn my attention logically, and learn that sweetbreads are particularly fine just now in whatever way they are served, but in my opinion they are never quite so good as when simmered gently in butter and served with cream sauce, to which has been added a few fresh mushrooms.
Spring chickens, tender and toothsome if broiled as they should be, are worthy of an honored place at any luncheon, and the marketman tells me those lately received are of excellent quality.
That dainty of dainties, in the estimation of many people, frogs' legs, if broiled or served with a cream sauce, appeals to the most fastidious palate. And just now they are not only plentiful and in fine condition, but are quite inexpensive.
A dish which we cannot always obtain, and which is especially suitable for a midday meal, is of the Taunton River alewives smoked; they should be broiled, and there should be served with them, without fail, a potato salad made from the Bermuda potatoes, which are exceptionally desirable at this season.
In the ordering of a dinner I have always maintained that though it consists of only two courses, there is an opportunity for the exercise of great discretion. A knowledge of the eternal fitness of things is essential above all else in order to arrange a dinner at which the courses shall not be at war with each other. A certain famous lawyer remarked in my hearing not long ago that "he knew women who could play whist and play it as it should be, and he knew women who could order a dinner fit for the gods, but never had he known and never did he expect to know, a woman who could do both." Perhaps he was right, but I believe there are women in plenty who are quite capable of doing both to perfection.
At this season, with oysters almost out of the running, little-neck clams may be depended upon to whet the appetite, while the soup which follows must be at once delicate and yet so rich that the first spoonful enchants. If the next course is to be of bluefish, or of salmon, or of striped bass, all of which are in first-class condition in this month, potatoes should be served in any desired shape if the fish is to be boiled or braised; should it be broiled or fried, then by all means let its accompaniment be cucumbers, which are plentiful, and are sold at a comparatively low figure, by now.
If you follow my advice you will avoid the heavy, clumsy, and unimaginative joint. Decide rather upon ducklings to be roasted or broiled, or upon squabs; or, if these are a thought too expensive, choose fowl, which should be good and plentiful. Have it parboiled and then fried Maryland style, or fricasseed, or boil it till quite tender and serve with a caper sauce.
As for vegetables, just now, and for several weeks to come, nothing can be better than asparagus, which improves, and is less expensive every day. Frequently I tire of it served on toast, in which case, after boiling it, I moisten it with melted butter, sprinkle grated Parmesan over the top and brown it in the oven. Or, if I wish to serve it as a salad, I have it ice-cold and pour over it a dressing made of oil, vinegar, pepper, and salt, with a suspicion of French mustard added.
For salads, tomatoes, perhaps, have first choice, for they are really very fine, coming in from the hothouses fresh every day. Watercress is at its best estate, and whether it be served as a salad or taken simply with a grain of salt, it is a delicacy worthy of honor.
It is hardly possible to serve fruit out of place at dinner; before the soup it is appetizing, as a compote for an entrée it is highly delectable, while at dessert its presence is time-honored, and I would that there were more varieties in market just now. However, the strawberries and pineapples due are quite sufficient to console us for the absence of other fruits.
With that most delicious vegetable asparagus as good and as plenty as it is bound to be for two months or so longer, it is but a waste of time to search for any other vegetable to take its place. The truth is, it hasn't a rival, and it never had one--even in Pliny's day, when it grew wild. But gardeners in those days cultivated it just as they do now, and it was no uncommon thing for them to produce stalks of which it took but three to weigh a pound. If any gardeners do raise such mammoth specimens in these days they keep very quiet about it. But perhaps they don't taste any better than smaller ones. Why should they?
It will do to have asparagus boiled, just plainly boiled, two out of every three times that you have it. But the third times are those of which I would talk.
Asparagus Tips in Cream
Suppose you cut off the tips into inch lengths, and boil very slowly in salted water till tender. Then drain and let get perfectly cold, after which you brown them a bit in butter in a frying pan. At the first threat to become brown cover the asparagus with cream, heat well and serve on toasted bread.
Asparagus with Savory Sauce
If this doesn't satisfy you for a third try another way. Cut the asparagus up just the same and boil with it a few new green peas and some shredded lettuce. Season with pepper and salt, and flavor with a few drops of onion juice. Add an ounce or two of melted butter to them after draining off the water in which they were boiled, pour over them half a pint of white sauce thickened, and then go ahead with the serving on toast.
Baked Asparagus
Then you can boil the asparagus tips and heap them mound shape in a baking dish, pour through them a Hollandaise or a Béarnaise sauce, cover the top with grated Parmesan cheese and brown in a hot oven.
Asparagus Salad
But for asparagus salad be sure that after the tips are taken from the boiling water they are plunged into ice water. Then cover, when serving, with a French dressing in which has been stirred a little French mustard.
Asparagus Salad 2
Or take some asparagus tips boiled and cooled and serve them on shaved ice with a dressing of salt, lemon juice, and horse-radish, or tabasco, and with a little bit of your most charming _persiflage_ you will be able to persuade some of your followers that you have produced an excellent substitute for little-neck clams.
MAY
"_Some said 'John, print it,' others said, 'Not so,'
Some said 'It might do good,' others said 'No.'_"
IT'S the month when, by a logical amount of reasoning, the housekeeper is persuaded that she can easily treat her family to roasted veal, at least once a week, without any member of it entering a complaint. She tries it. The second time serving it threatens to go a-begging, and the third time there is so much left over that it can't be worked up in seven days--when, by her reckoning, another knuckle is due. People do tire of veal in short order, even those who have a liking for it, for some reason or other. I am inclined to think that a good many times the "tired feeling" sets in because of the way it is served--not enough is done to prepare the palate for it.
Olives with Caviare
Veal, then, more than any other roast, needs to have the way prepared for it, very gingerly and very delicately. Let us discuss a way for doing this. First, have pitted olives that you have filled with caviare. Rest these olives on little rounds of toast that have been spread with caviare, and sprinkled with lemon juice.
Purée of Peas and Spinach
Now, for a soup. Soak over night a pint of green dried peas. Drain, and cook in plenty of fresh water till perfectly tender. Then press through a sieve. Have cooked, at the same time, a peck of spinach, and press through a sieve also. Then put the two purées together, season with salt and pepper; heat well, adding half a pint of milk. Just before taking up, pour in a pint of cream, and serve with tiny squares of fried bread in the tureen. Ever heard of this before? It's a soup that is rich and delicate, but not so hearty that it does more than whet the appetite for what is to follow.
Mayonnaise with Horse-Radish
Shall we say salmon comes next? It's a thought high as yet, perhaps, but you only need a little of it--a pound for four, where a roast is to follow. But, to tell the truth, my insisting on your having it comes almost wholly from a desire I have to tell you of a new sauce for boiled or broiled salmon. It is nothing more than mayonnaise, a half pint, with a heaping tablespoonful of horse-radish stirred through it. Oh, you will like it fast enough! And you will like it with cold salmon, just as well.
Duchesse Sauce
By the time the fish is a thing of the past, you will all be ready for the roasted veal. On this, of course, you have had tied thin slices of salt pork before it is roasted. With it, will you have a duchesse sauce? I think you will. For this you have a pint of good stock, thickened a bit with butter braided with flour. After it is heated, there is added to it a wineglass of any white wine.
Onion Sauce
Or, if I have made a mistake, and you will have none of it, do let me suggest an onion sauce. Peel and chop three onions, and let simmer in plenty of butter, closely covered, for an hour. Let them brown, a trifle, at the last, and add a tablespoonful of flour with pepper and salt. Then add to them half a pint each of white stock and cream. Pour this into the pan in which the veal was roasted, after it is taken out, set the pan on top of the range and let boil gently for five minutes. It's an improved sauce Soubise, you may say, if any of your guests are led to ask the name of it. But, if they ask for directions for making it, don't give them up. Advise, instead, buying this book to learn, as you did, how to concoct such a bit of deliciousness.
Really, I wouldn't have more than one vegetable with the veal, and that asparagus, as it's the season for it. Or, have something else, if you prefer, and have an asparagus salad.
Rhubarb Sherbet
For the dessert, why not a rhubarb sherbet? Cut up two pounds of it, and boil with a few drops of water and plenty of sugar, the rind of a lemon, and a little liquid carmine to color it prettily. Let this get cool; strain through a sieve, and add to it a pint of claret and two tablespoonfuls of rum. Freeze, and have ready to decorate it, when serving, some strips of candied ginger. You will find it all that you have reason to think it should be, coming from this source.
Apricot Charlotte
But, if you prefer an apricot charlotte, it shall be my pleasure to tell you how to make one. Line the same charlotte mould you always use with sponge drops, or fingers, carefully trimmed to fit. In fact, you want to give them a regular tailor-made fit. Then fill with a pint of preserved apricots, which have been stewed till tender enough to rub through a sieve. Stir into it an ounce of gelatine, dissolved in a little water. Let it get perfectly cool, and then whip into it a pint of already whipped cream. Turn into the mould and set away to harden. And you have the most ungrateful family in the neighborhood if they don't count this dinner as a red-letter event in their lives.
* * * * *
Think you that upon one of these mornings, when the mercury shows a sullen determination to do nothing but climb, climb, climb, you can prepare a more tempting dish for breakfast than one of shrimps, which have been boiled in fresh water, then salted and cooled, and finally sent to table upon chopped ice? You will find them at the market for the rest of this month, at least, in excellent condition, and at a reasonable price. And should you elect to serve them according to the foregoing suggestion, place near them on the table a dish of crisp, fresh watercress, lightly piled, ministering thereby to the eye's pleasure as well as to the appetite's desire.
Broiled Veal Cutlets
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I Go A-MarketingChapter II: Part 2
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