Chapter VIII: Practical Hints for the Handy Man 118 (2)

Bread is one of those things for which civilized man craves, and even in the most out-of-the-way places he is loth to exist without it. The many substitutes for bread rarely satisfy an Englishman, and he is driven to find some way of making a solid loaf. Nevertheless to bake bread presents a difficulty which can only be overcome by building an oven such as before described, or by using hot flat stones; the latter way of baking is as good as any when a little practice has shown how to do it skilfully. But the baking is only one difficulty; another and more serious one is to find a yeast wherewith to make a dough. German and other dried yeasts are usually to be bought in towns or from stores, and wherever there is a brewery barm can be got, but there are also dried and compressed yeasts that are put up in cakes for the use of travellers, which the outgoing colonist might procure, probably, at a ship chandler’s stores. Yeatman’s Yeast Powder is one of these. But failing any way of procuring dried yeasts there is another way of making a liquid yeast that is sure of producing a sweet and wholesome bread. For this the dried Bavarian hops are required, which are to be bought in packets from the chief English stores (they are known as the Phœnix brand), a packet of which will last a considerable time. A handful of these hops is boiled in water in a saucepan until the goodness has been extracted, then strained off, the hops thrown away, and the liquid returned to the pan with a spoonful of sugar, salt, and one or two tablespoonfuls of flour. These are stirred together and boiled up—never mind if it is a little lumpy—and then left to ferment. The mixture is ready for use the following day and will keep good for about ten days or a fortnight. In using, mix enough of this liquid with sufficient flour to make a small soft ball—technically called a “sponge,” setting this in the middle of the panful of flour which is intended for the bread. When this sponge has risen a little make the dough by adding to it warm water slightly salted, and working in the rest of the flour gradually until it can be kneaded with the hand and forms a large ball of dough, not too stiff and yet not too soft. This is then set to rise again in a warm place, and will take some five or six hours. Some people mix up the yeast and flour and water straight away and let one rising suffice. Either way should produce a light and wholesome dough. About four tablespoonfuls of the liquid yeast (or an ounce of dried compressed yeast of another kind, stirred to smooth paste with water), a large tablespoonful of salt and four pounds of flour, will make a nice quantity of bread. The amount of water depends a good deal on the kind of flour, but the result must be a rather firm dough; if too little water is put in the bread will be stiff and dry, if too much it will be puffy and full of holes.

The dough can be mixed in the evening and left to rise all night, provided the pan containing it be set in a warm, sheltered place. The next morning, as soon as the oven has been made hot, or as soon as the hot stones of the hearth are ready, take up the dough, divide it and shape lightly with floured hands into loaves and bake them. The point to bear in mind is that while dough takes several hours to rise, it takes little harm by waiting until the oven is ready for it; but as yeast after it has been mixed with water ferments very quickly, the dough itself should not be made till the whole process of making it can be done right away. The science of the thing is that the introduction of yeast into the moistened flour causes carbonic gas to form, and the formation of these bubbles makes the dough swell out until the fermentation being finished the gas would cease to form and the dough would sink back, having lost its lightness. When the dough has about doubled its proportions, we stop the formation of the gas by baking the bread. Patent dried yeasts operate more quickly than do liquid home-made yeasts, and six hours is quite long enough to allow for the rising. Liquid yeasts might be given a little longer.

If bread is made twice a week, the loaves should be made larger, and for taking out on journeys round flat cakes, made not too thick, are a convenient form; likewise for baking on the hearth these will be the handiest and cook the best. A round and rather thick ball of dough, cut across the top with a blunt knife, will give the Coburg loaf, which is a good shape for baking in an oven.

Combinations of flour and maize meal, or of rice and flour, oatmeal and flour, and so on can be tried when a change is wanted. Where eggs and milk are procurable, there is a delicious American bread which is made by mixing two cupfuls of maize meal with every one of ordinary white flour, adding a little salt, two eggs and a cupful of milk to every three cups of the combined flours, with a spoonful of baking-powder rubbed in before moisture is added. This mixture is shaped into loaves and baked in tins—old biscuit tins floured inside will do quite well. The same mixture could be transformed into a cake of quite excellent quality by rubbing into the flour a little butter or lard, and a few raisins and spice and sugar.

Excellent light buns for supper are quickly made by rubbing a little baking-powder into flour, adding salt, sugar and a few currants and spice, mixing with milk to a stiff dough, rolling out on a board, cutting into triangles and baking on flat hot stones, on both sides. Or if the milk has soured, mix a little soda with it and make up into a dough with flour alone and bake in the same way.

The Australian Damper is really a thick, plain pancake, often merely a handful of flour made into a stiffish batter with water and a little salt and baked over the embers of a wood fire or on the hot stones. But the correct way of making Damper is to take a flat board or a dried sheepskin on which to knead. On this the flour is poured from the sack and sprinkled with salt. A hole is made in the middle of the heap of flour into which water is slowly poured, the right hand being kept moving round and round working the flour and water together to a thick, adhesive dough. This is then kneaded on the floured board until a firm ball is the result, and then with the hands a flat pancake is made about two inches thick. The embers are cleared away to leave a flat, bare place and the damper is lightly dropped upon it and covered with leaves, then the embers are raked back and it is left for about an hour, when it will be baked crisp and brown. A frying-pan without a handle might be inverted over the damper if the ashes were dirty. Fresh eggs beaten up with milk and used instead of water would make a richer and crisper and more nourishing damper. Scotch oatmeal added to a little flour, or the oatmeal alone mixed as for dry oatcake and baked on the hot stones, would be a more nourishing substitute for bread than is damper alone.

The Flapjack is a similar kind of thing to the damper, but it is fried in a pan, with very little fat, that is to say, only enough to grease the pan, and fried on both sides. If made with cornmeal or buckwheat and mixed with milk and eggs, it becomes a very palatable thing, and has the merit of being quickly prepared. These pan cakes are just the thing for eating with sugar-cane syrup or molasses.

A Cornmeal Pone is made with a quart of Indian meal, a teaspoonful of salt, a little melted lard and enough tepid water to make a soft dough. It is moulded lightly with the hands into an oblong mound, higher in the middle than at the sides, is brushed over with melted lard and dry flour, and is baked in hot oven rather crisply and broken into pieces, not cut. A broad leaf is laid over and under the pone if it is baked in the ashes.

A Johnny Cake requires two cupfuls of buttermilk, a teaspoonful of soda, and two of salt, a good bit of butter melted soft, and enough Indian meal to make the cake so that it can be rolled out on a board to an inch in thickness. It is baked on the stones or in the oven in a shallow pan, and is then broken into pieces and eaten with butter.

Buckwheat Cakes want the true Buckwheat flour, and to every four cupfuls a little salt and enough milk to make a thin batter, also a spoonful of yeast to every cupful of flour. The mixture is beaten well and left to rise overnight, and is then fried in greased pans on both sides, and eaten with syrup.

The Chupatty is another form of thin or hastily made bread, and is generally made with Indian meal. If made with ordinary white flour, rub in a saltspoonful of salt to every half-pound, and mix to a light dough with cold milk. Cut this dough into pieces about the size of an egg, roll each piece into long, thin strips not more than an eighth of an inch thick. This is best done with the help of a floured board and a rolling-pin or smooth bottle, as the secret of making nice chupatties lies in the rolling. It should be rolled out at least six times, then the strips are placed on a baking tin and baked in a hot oven for about ten minutes. This is as crisp as water biscuit, and is very digestible. Where a dry biscuit or cake is wanted for a journey the chupatty is very useful.

Any bread that has become stale can be freshened by dipping it in water and putting into a hot oven to steam through for a few minutes.

Dumplings and Pie-Crusts

When baking bread and making a stew or boiling meat with vegetables, small pieces of the dough can be broken off and dropped into the pan to form dumplings. If yeast or baking-powder has been worked into the dough the dumplings will be light though plain, but if they are wanted a little richer they should be made with chopped suet mixed with flour and water.

The ordinary plain suet dumpling requires half as much chopped suet as flour in weight, and a little salt. It is mixed with either water or milk to make into a stiff dough—it is lightest when somewhat stiff—and if tying it up in a cloth to boil in water allow room for the pudding to swell. Boil a suet dumpling for two hours at least; it will not harm by being boiled longer. These plain dumplings are wholesome and excellent food especially in a cold climate, and should be eaten with syrup or butter and sugar. Sugar is, indeed, one of the most necessary items on the colonist’s bill of fare. The plain suet can be varied by mixing with it stoned raisins or currants or by using syrup in place of milk to mix the ingredients, adding a little ginger for flavour. Or the suet paste may be rolled out and spread with jam or soaked dried fruits and treacle, rolled up again, wrapped round with a cloth and boiled in fast boiling water, or folded in a buttered paper and steamed, for a couple of hours, making a light and appetising roll pudding. Or again, the paste may be rolled out and used to line a basin, the interior being filled with sliced apples and other fruits and sugar, covered with a top crust, then tied over and boiled for as long again. Or the centre may be filled with pieces of steak cut small and rolled in flour and seasoned with salt and pepper, a little water put in to make gravy, a top crust put on, and tied down, and this boiled for about four hours.

If the colonist has built him a good oven and is ambitious of making pastry, having a fond recollection of jam tarts and apple pies as made at home, let him take a nice clean board, and put into a basin say a couple of pounds of flour, two big spoonfuls of dry baking-powder, a teaspoonful of salt, and into this flour rub lightly about a pound of lard or good dripping, rubbing till the flour feels like dry breadcrumbs in his hands. Mix this to a stiff paste with cold water, then cut off portions and roll out on a floured board. If a proper rolling-pin is not at hand a bottle will answer the purpose.

If it is a fruit pie that is contemplated, fill a dish with pared and sliced apples, or plums washed clean, or other fruit, cover well with sugar, add a little water and then cover with a crust that has been rolled out to about half an inch thick. Make a little hole in the top for the steam to escape, and pinch the edges well and cut them round even with the edges of the dish. Put into an oven that is very hot and bake long enough to cook the fruit well, shielding the crust if necessary with paper. Fruits like blackberries, bilberries, damsons, etc., want well cooking, and should be partly done before the crust is put on. Where no pie-dish is at hand, roll out a sheet of paste and heap up the cut or picked fruit in the centre, with the sugar, and then fold up the paste to make it like a valise and pinch the edges well. Bake it on a greased tin.

The good old-fashioned turnover or pasty is ever welcome, and needs but to have a piece of paste rolled out to a convenient sized round, and on half is spread the jam, mince, or fruit, and the other half is turned over, the edges pinched together, and it is baked on a tin in hot oven. The Cornish pasty has sliced potatoes, shred bacon, a trifle of onion and pepper and salt, and is folded over and baked in the same way. These are delicious to eat hot. When making a meat pie, cook the meat well before putting on the pastry crust.

This plain short pastry is all that any colonist will require, at least until an elaborate kitchen equipment is at his service, but if he objects to rubbing in the shortening with his hands, he may mix the flour and water to a stiff paste, roll it out on a floured board, spread the shortening on this with the blade of a knife, fold up and roll out again at least twice. This way saves using the hands.

V

THE DAY’S FOOD AND WORK

Popular Ideas about Food Values—Kind of Food Required in
Health—Concentrated and Bulk Foods—Initial Preparations for Cooking,
etc.

There are a good many vague notions current about food which it is well to set right before we come to the actual work of cooking for making ready a meal. For instance, people are content, as a rule, to take what comes handiest, or to choose what is most customary, rather than have the trouble of thinking out or of choosing what might really make a meal of better value. Reliance on what is customary may easily lead to great monotony and to narrowness of ideas. In some cases, of course, monotony is perhaps inevitable, that is to say the material is perforce the same, and can only be varied by bringing the imagination into play in order to make its manner of presentment more varied. A man, for example, writes to us from Canada (he is pioneering in the Far West, let it be understood), and says that his meals consist of beef and potatoes, varied by potatoes and beef. Another writes from the Australian bush and declares there is nothing to be had but tea, damper and mutton, mutton, damper and tea. Both cases are doubtless exaggerations, but they show the monotony that may exist when there is little time to give to thought about meals. But on the other hand, people who have almost limitless resources at command, as in England, show little more imagination when it comes to planning a week’s meals for a family, year in year out, and monotony is their complaint also.

Then we speak of “nourishing food,” of dishes that are “rich,” “indigestible” and so on, and of drinks that are “too strong” and “too weak,” often without quite knowing what we wish to express.

All food is “nourishing” when properly combined and proportioned; if we get an excess of one thing, of fat, for example, or of sugar, it is “too rich” because less easily assimilated. As it is only by what is digested and assimilated that the body is nourished, it is easy to understand that two foods which contain the same amount of nutriment will not be equally nutritious unless both are equally digestible.

What is wanted, speaking roughly, for proper nourishment and upkeep of the bodily system, is a daily sufficient yet not excessive supply of flesh-forming and heat-producing food, enough to repair the constant slow wastage that goes on. This waste, it is easy to understand, is increased when the body is actively engaged in hard labour and lessened when it is resting or doing sedentary work. The whole science of feeding lies in obtaining a right proportion of the two classes of food in the diet. An excess of either class, unless excreted, is stored up as fat. The reason we cook at all is that we may bring raw materials into a state in which they can be digested easily, and also that we may make those judicious mixtures which shall combine flesh-forming and heat-producing substances ready to be assimilated in the best possible way. There is no one perfect food that will do this for adults, as there is for infants who find all they require in milk. The adult body is only perfectly supplied by a mixed diet, and as regards the selection of materials one of the best and safest guides to take is the individual appetite under normal conditions. Appetite will generally suggest the kind of food the body is needing and will generally indicate when a sufficiency has been taken, also it will show by “loss of appetite” when food is not required and what kind of food is distasteful.

Feeding the human body is very like feeding a fire; combustion is slow but steady and is made more rapid when the draught of air is increased—that is, when the lungs are inhaling and exhaling more deeply as in hard labour. The energy expressed by movement, labour, exercise or play corresponds to the burning of the fire, and is made up for by adding more fuel, and what part of the fuel is not consumed is thrown away as ashes are taken away from the grate. How thoroughly the food taken in is consumed must therefore depend a great deal upon its digestibility. That which is raw, hard, lumpy or tough will take long to assimilate, or indeed may be finally excreted as unassimilable. We assist assimilation when we mince or grind down the food to fine proportions—hence mastication. After it is swallowed the digestive juices set to work upon it and make it fit for absorption into the system. In addition to cooking food to make it tender and in addition to mastication, we further assist the work of digestion when we add condiments and flavours to it, because these help to increase the flow of the gastric juices and stimulate the activity of the digestive organs.

We cannot obtain more heat or more muscle by eating special foods for the purpose. Flesh-forming and heat-producing foods must be taken together for each to do their work properly, but we can and do increase the proportions of one or the other according to the kind of work we are doing and the kind of climate we are living under. An extra cold atmosphere calls for more heat to make up for what is given off by radiation from the surface of the body as well as by increased respiration. Therefore fat and sugar must take a very prominent place in the diet of those who live in cold countries, farinaceous foods likewise. Meat and vegetables are needed where much muscular work is being done and where a stimulating diet rather than a heating one is wanted. A good deal of liquid food and water is needed when perspiration is excessive and where outward heat dries the skin.

Appetite is again the best guide to follow under these different conditions, for Nature prompts and suggests what she is needing by means of appetite and taste. Appetite is also the best individual guide as to quantity, for it is rarely that two people will eat exactly the same amount in the same circumstances. Some appear to eat too much, and others too little, but if we judge results by weight, where that remains fairly constant, the quantities consumed merely correspond with their requirements. It is when an excess of fat is stored up in the system that the supply may be taken to exceed the demand. Yet this again is not altogether a reliable criterion to go by; it, in fact, puzzles many as it puzzled Dr. Johnson and his faithful Boswell.

Talking of a man who had grown very fat so as to be incommoded by his corpulency, Dr. Johnson said, “He eats too much, sir.” Said Boswell, “I don’t know, sir; you will see one man fat who eats moderately and another lean who eats a great deal.” Johnson: “Nay, sir, whatever may be the quantity a man eats, it is plain that if he is too fat he has eaten more than he should have done. One may have a digestion that consumes food better than common; but it is certain that solidity is increased by putting something to it.” Boswell: “But may not solids swell and be distended?” Johnson: “Yes, sir, they may swell and be distended, but that is not fat!”

As regards food materials, all fibrous and tough substances cannot be separated from the rest, nor is it necessary to separate them. A certain amount of bulk food is needful for the organs to work upon, and even if it is eventually excreted it still cannot be done without. Highly-concentrated foods, like extracts and essences and tabloids, will not satisfy the ordinary healthy appetite, and even if they did satisfy it they would end in weakening the organs of the body through want of sufficient work and exercise. Tissues and fibres can, however, be made soft and tender, and therefore much more easily digestible, by proper cooking. It should be remembered that the tissues of animals and vegetables toughen as they get older, while birds and meats that are freshly-killed are not so tender as when well hung. Wild birds and young animals are tougher than maturer and fattened ones.

The initial processes of preparing food will present more difficulties to the colonist, perhaps, than the actual cooking. The very first process of all, that of catching and killing the animal or bird, is less troublesome to contemplate than the process of skinning, cleaning and cutting up; still, of course, it comes first.

All animals and birds which are killed by shot must have the blood let out as soon as possible; it is usual to suspend them to drain this away. Then the skin is drawn off, the abdominal and thoracic viscera are removed, likewise the head and tail, and the animal is laid open by cutting down the breast line. In large animals like oxen and sheep by cutting through the middle of the back bone the carcass is divided into two equal parts, called sides, and the sides are again cut up into joints after quartering. The anterior portion is known as the fore-quarter, the posterior as the hind-quarter. In small animals like lambs the whole of the quarter is considered as one joint.

In cutting up a side of beef the usual method followed is according to the following diagram:

_A._ Rump.
_B._ Buttock.
_C._ Shin.
_D._ Buttock Steak.
_E._ Aitchbone.
_F._ Sirloin.
_G._ Ribs.
_H._ Chuck Ribs.
_I._ Clod.
_J._ Shin.
_K._ Shoulder or Bladebone.
_L._ Brisket.
_M._ Thin Flank.
_N._ Thick Flank.
_O._ Gravy Piece.
]

A young ox gives the best beef, but bull beef is dark in colour with a coarse grain. If beef is to be tender it should be hung as long as weather and climate will permit of, but should be looked over every day and moisture wiped off. Any part which is touched with flies should be rubbed over with cloths wrung out of vinegar. If any part seems slightly tainted rub powdered charcoal over it, or black pepper.

The most suitable uses of the different parts for cooking are as follows:

Sirloin and Ribs, prime roasting joints.

Rump, for cutting into steaks for grilling.

Buttock, for stewing steak, or for boiling fresh.

Round or Buttock, for salting and boiling.

Thick and thin Flank, salting, boiling or baking.

Shins and Gravy Piece, for soups.

Chuck Ribs, for second quality steaks.

Bladebone, for braising and stewing.

Clod, boiled or stewed.

Brisket, for salting and pressing, or for baking with potatoes.

Tail, for stewing and soup-making.

Tongue, for salting, boiling and pressing.

The Skirt makes delicious stews and rich gravy.

Beef Kidney is tough and too rich to use alone, but a little added to
other stews is excellent.

Liver too coarse to use except for feeding animals.

Knuckles and feet make stiff jelly.

Mutton does not cut up into so many parts, but is simply divided into leg and loin (or if the loin is undivided it makes a “saddle,”) and the fore-quarter makes breast, shoulder and neck pieces.

Veal is similarly jointed to beef but is much smaller, and the whole round of the leg is called the fillet and is cut in thick portions or slices; the loin includes the rump, and the neck is really included with the ribs. The breast of veal is excellent as the gristly parts easily soften, and the knuckles which correspond to the shin and leg of beef are much more tender and gelatinous.

As pigs are killed at different ages and the larger and fatter animals are usually cured and dried for bacon, the smaller pigs are cut up very similarly to mutton and lamb. The hind-quarter gives the leg and hind loin, the fore-quarter the “hand” or shoulder, foreloin, spare ribs and neck, while the head is split into two “chaps.” When made into bacon the side is cured whole and the leg becomes the ham, the shoulder half the gammon. The breast gives the part known as “streaky” bacon, and the back and ribs, flank and collar are sold at varying prices.

Certain portions of the interior organs of the carcass are useful for food and quite digestible. The tongues, for instance, which when cut away from the root part can be salted and pickled, then boiled or dried, make an excellent dish. The sweetbreads in young animals are very delicate, and after first boiling them in salted water for a few minutes they can be fried or stewed to make a savoury dish. The kidneys are removed from the fat in which they are embedded and split open and lightly fried or grilled, or beef kidney is added to stews of other parts of beef. Ox tails after skinning and jointing make an excellent savoury stew or very nourishing soup. Sheep’s liver is edible when properly cooked, but lamb’s and calf’s liver are better and not at all tough when fried and stewed afterwards. Ox liver is not fit for human food. The hearts of very young animals alone are edible, and even then are somewhat tough.

The best suet is that found round about the kidneys, and this fat can be removed in large pieces, which if kept dry will remain sweet for a week or two and is used for making puddings and crusts for pies. The other interior fat of the animal (both of beef and mutton) can be melted down and clarified by pouring into jars containing a little boiling water, then it is useful for all frying purposes and many other things. The interior fat of the pig is also melted down, but it yields lard, a pure white and soft fat that is as edible as butter. This should be run into tins whilst warm and covered with paper when cold to keep it from the air.

Rabbits are split open to let out the blood and the entrails removed directly they are killed, and being thus paunched they can be slung on a stick and kept for some time before skinning, although the fresher they are the more easily will the skin be removed. To do this make an incision down the length of the body, and draw the skin backwards, bringing the legs up first and ending by pulling the skin over the head. A rabbit can be turned round for boiling, or be cut into joints for stewing. Hares are treated the same way except that hares are not boiled, but they are often roasted. A better way is to cook a whole hare in a casserole or braising-pan, as the meat is very dry, but the best way of all is to cut it in joints and cook it in a deep stone jar, with red wine and small vegetables and a little fat pork.

Fowls are plucked most easily by first dipping them bodily into boiling water, but this renders the feathers unusable for any other purpose. Plucking is quickly accomplished if the feathers are pulled the reverse way from that which they take naturally, and after cutting off the head, splitting the neck to remove the gullet and windpipe, an incision at the lower end makes it easy to empty the fowl by drawing out the entrails and organs; wash out with clean water afterwards, then bind together the legs and tie down the wings to the sides, and the fowl is trussed quite sufficiently for ordinary purposes. The reason for fastening wings and legs to the sides is to prevent these from shrivelling and getting too dry by cooking. As the meat of fowls and indeed of most birds is very lean it is an improvement to wrap them in some thin leaf fat, or to cook a piece of fat bacon with them if braising or roasting, or even if boiling them.

The meat of wildfowl is drier and leaner than that of the domestic fowl and wild ducks are a little fishy in flavour. Prairie hens are plump as a rule but also lean, and most small wild birds are tastier and more tender if they are wrapped in thin slices of fat before cooking. Quick cooking is best for those that are small and young, but fowls of uncertain age are better slowly stewed or boiled.

The flesh of fish contains more water than that of meat or fowl, but it is light and digestible and nourishing when fresh, and plump fish are invariably of primer quality than thin ones. Most fish want scraping as well as washing, and it is well to cut off the heads and remove the entrails; in some kinds like mackerel and herrings they are split open and scraped clean, while in flat fish cutting off the heads and fins suffices. Large fish like salmon and cod have a good deal of interior to be removed before they are cooked and the heads are left on if preferred.

Where a little curing house has been set up as before described, herrings which have been cleaned and split open can be lightly salted and smoke-dried, and thus the colonist can make his own kippers. Small haddock can also be cured and smoke-dried, mackerel likewise.

Surplus fish can be kept by first cleaning and then salting them and packing down in a barrel, but smoke-curing is a better way of preserving them, and in the log-hut kitchen they can hang in strings from the rafters.

Oysters, clams, mussels and shellfish that are eaten without cooking should be very fresh indeed for it to be trustworthy. Oysters are wholesome and easily digested and are rightly considered a delicacy, and in some places they are plentiful enough.

Lobsters, crabs and shrimps want boiling in salted water until they turn a bright red colour, and when cold they are broken open and the flesh picked out. An iron cauldron or saucepan is best to boil them in. All these should be killed by cooking; that is they should be alive up to the time they are boiled, as if not perfectly fresh they so quickly decompose and may easily set up ptomaine poisoning. There are circumstances and places where shellfish are a valuable article of food, however, and in moderation they do much to vary a diet that without them would be monotonous and unappetising. A liberal washing in clean water should be given to all creatures that are taken from salt water pools and shallow places. But the same careful cleansing is necessary in the case of freshwater fish, too, especially that taken from ponds, as they are apt to taste of mud unless well soaked and scraped before cooking.

The initial preparations for cooking which vegetables require make many people forego their use altogether, yet although troublesome enough there is nothing about them that is half so disagreeable as the preparatory work of preparing meat and poultry for cooking. A liberal washing, a scraping or paring, perhaps coring and dividing and cutting up—and that is practically all there is to do except in the case of peas which want shelling, or of beans which want stringing and slicing.

Almost without exception, the edible roots want paring after washing before cooking them in any way whatsoever. The rind is not intended to be eaten and is tough in all except very young roots. While the actual nutritive value of roots, tubers and green vegetables is low, their health value is high, and they are both a welcome and valuable addition to the diet, and whenever a garden patch has been secured the colonist’s first thought will be to grow his own vegetables, and as great a variety of them as he can.

Potatoes are the most nutritive of all vegetables and rank next to bread in value, but artichokes have a higher nutritive value than even potatoes, and should be freely cultivated especially where there is a pig to be fed, as pigs thrive rapidly and produce fine bacon when fed upon these tubers.

The next most important vegetable to the potato is the onion, and this is one of the best of nature’s medicines, too. But after skinning an onion the root bit should always be cut out before cooking in any form. Cut away the hard fibres from cabbages before boiling them and boil rapidly in salted water. Never cook outer leaves or woody parts and fibres of anything; all such parts should be returned to the ground as its share of the proceeds, for they make the most valuable manure.

When gathering cabbages or lettuces, and things of like nature, if not ready to make use of them for a few hours, leave the roots on as they will keep fresh and crisp a much longer time. If on account of frost these have to be dug up and brought under shelter, also leave the roots on, but let them be kept covered with sand or soil and in a dry place. Carrots and turnips keep well in a sand heap. Celery is another excellent vegetable for the colonist to cultivate wherever it will grow; it is good in all climates and will stand a good deal of frost, and is most wholesome eaten either in a natural state or cooked. Here again, eat only the best parts and let the rest be returned to the ground.

Dried fruits are extremely useful where fresh fruits are hard to procure, and the nutritive value of dried fruits is relatively high in proportion to their weight. They are a form of concentrated food, easily portable and satisfying, but their value is increased when they are soaked in water for some hours and then cooked. But dried raisins, dates and figs are excellent for eating without other preparation, while prunes and apples are better after soaking and stewing.

VI

COOKING FISH, MEAT AND VEGETABLES

The Reason Why in Roasting, Boiling, Baking and Stewing—How to Fry,
Braise, Grill, etc., and Use of Condiments and Seasoning.

Every one likes to know the “reason why” any particular method is recommended or pursued, and if we cannot give the correct scientific explanation of any process used in the kitchen we can at least give the reason for its being followed. And once we know the reason for a method we are independent of any necessity for slavish following of other directions, because success or failure will be the result of right or wrong in the method, not of a defect in the recipe.

For instance: The principle of Roasting is that of cooking by radiated heat; Baking is a combination of radiated with air-conducted heat. Hence roasting is done before an open fire and baking is done in an oven.

Roasting

The joint should be hung not too near the fire to begin with, in order that sufficient fat may exude to moisten the surface; after a few minutes, however, it is brought closer that this moisture may become encrusted so as to keep in the gravy. The joint is kept moving in order that it may cook evenly on all sides, and when it is cooked through steam will be seen rising from it.

Now, in place of having a revolving spit and a roasting jack, a substitute can be made by forming a sort of cradle for the joint out of thin wire and suspending this from a nail or hook. It is well to suspend the wire cradle with a piece of twine from the hook or nail as twine will revolve with a twist of the fingers, but wire will not. The fire, whether it is one built on the ground or in a fireplace, must have burnt through clear red before the joint is placed in front of it. In the old cottages in Scotland where a wide-throated chimney and open hearth with flat stone constitutes all the cooking range there is, it is common to see a big nail projecting from the chimneypiece, while the joint is tied in a cradle of string and suspended from the nail, on a level with the hottest part of the fire. Everybody passing by gives a twist to the string and so the joint moves round and the result when done is a perfect roast. The fat that drops is caught by a tin set on the flat stone of the hearth, and a batter mixture poured into this is baked by the time the meat is ready for eating. It would be quite possible to manage something of this type in a log-hut kitchen, but in tent or camp it would be better to bake rather than roast meat.

Baking

In Baking meats—or in baking anything else for that matter—the greatest heat is needed at first, in order to give the same shock of surprise that frying gives to anything that is plunged in hot fat. The reason for this is to form a crust as quickly as possible and prevent the escape of the juices. An oven that is only just warm will dry the surface without forming this crust, but one that is thoroughly hot will bring the juices up to the surface and make a brown coating very quickly. In the same way pastry or bread will rise when plunged into good heat, but remain white and heavy if the oven is cool. To know whether an oven is hot enough for baking it can be tested by spreading a little dry flour on a piece of tin and putting it in the oven for a few minutes. If it does not brown the oven is too slow; if it browns readily it is hot enough for meat. Pieces of thick white paper will prevent the surface of anything from scorching.

It is usually reckoned that beef and mutton take from twenty to twenty-five minutes per pound for both roasting and baking; veal and pork want half an hour per pound, but a fowl or pheasant should not require longer than fifteen minutes per pound weight.

Paper Coverings

There is great advantage in using a paper wrapping when cooking meat or fish on hot stones or in a furnace oven. If a paper bag is greased and folded up tightly it will keep in all the steam and flavour, allowing nothing to be wasted, and proves a very cleanly way of cooking, and saves much washing-up and scouring of tins and pans. In true Paper bag cookery, now much used in gas ovens and English ranges, the bag is made of a special paper, grease-proof, nevertheless where the right kind of bag is not available wrapping up in ordinary white paper is much better than nothing, but always grease the paper first. Shape the paper, or the bag, so that a hollow forms at the bottom, into which the fat and gravy collects. This facilitates dishing up, as a cut with a knife will let this through into a tin held underneath.

Boiling

Now as to Boiling meat. Sometimes we boil it in order to extract all the goodness as for soup, sometimes for the sake of cooking meat or fish in this special way. In the first case it should be put over a slow fire in cold water, and when it has reached the boiling-point be withdrawn and allowed to cook without boiling again, and cooking a very long time in this way much improves the flavour of broth or soup. But when the meat is intended to be eaten, the water into which it is put should nearly boil when it is first put in with its vegetables, and then be brought rather quickly to the boiling-point, drawn away, and kept boiling very gently indeed. Never on any account let it boil fast, still it must _just_ boil or else the meat will not cook. Fast boiling ruins the soup and toughens the meat. When rice is added to broth, it is washed and put in about an hour before the soup is finished; when barley is put in, it can be added as soon as the broth boils, as it takes longer to soften. A fair-sized piece of meat with vegetables will take from two to three hours to boil it well. For Scotch broth the vegetables are chopped small and the barley and these boiled together with the mutton.

When boiling fish the water should be at the boiling-point when it is put in, but only just reach that point, or rather not quite reach it afterwards. The water should be salted, and a few drops of vinegar will help to keep the flakes of fish firm. Fish should simmer till the skin shows signs of cracking, then it is sufficiently done. Fish that is boiled fast is flavourless and ragged. But a pudding or anything cooked in a mould may boil as fast as you please.

Some vegetables are better for putting to cook in cold water, others must have boiling water. Dried vegetables and some potatoes want cold water, and dried peas and beans want long previous soaking. Green vegetables and green peas, on the other hand, want plunging into fast boiling salted water and to be kept boiling fast. Potatoes and some of the other root vegetables will steam better than they will boil.

Stewing

There is no doubt that Stewing is the ideal way of cooking all tough meats and old birds. Stews want slow cooking and close covering to keep in the steam, and need several hours to do them well. A stew should be mellow and have plenty of gravy. The best plan is to bring the contents of the stewpan to boiling-point rather quickly, then to set the pan or jar in a corner of the oven or hearth, where it will have gentle heat for a long time. Unless it reaches the boiling-point once, however, it will not start cooking. After it had reached the boil however it could be set in the Hay-box Oven or in a hole in the ground, and would go on cooking all right for many hours without harm.

Recipes for different stews are given in the next chapter, but the principle of making a stew savoury and nourishing and tender is grasped when we understand that it is necessary to bring it to full heat, that is boiling-point early, then to let it cook well below that point for several hours. Tough meat should then become quite tender, and the gristly pieces soft and glutinous. A little vinegar added to a stew helps to make the meat tender, and seasoning makes it savoury.

A little vinegar added to a stew of game draws out the flavour, and likewise some pickle added to one of venison or dried meat greatly improves it. So, too, does a little red wine.

Fish stews are excellent, and this method of cooking makes very palatable the coarser kinds of river or pond fish. After being scraped to free it from scales, and after washing well in water, it should be dried and cut into pieces of a convenient size, rolled in flour and sprinkled with salt and pepper, packed into the stewpan with a little vinegar or the juice of a lemon, and with several small pats of butter, then covered down closely and stewed for an hour or so. Omit the vinegar when cooking the more delicate kinds of white fish, adding only salt and butter, and perhaps a little milk. If liked, a little grated cheese can be sprinkled over a stew of white fish.

A way of greatly improving a plain stew is to first fry the meat and vegetables which compose it, frying them sufficiently to brown them, but not enough to cook them properly; the cooking is done by the stewing, but the frying gives a savouriness which nothing else can. Onions and carrots and potatoes fried before they are added to a stew, for instance, make it very much richer than if put in raw. Rinse out the frying-pan with boiling water and add this to the stew. Such things as liver and bacon, kidneys, giblets, etc., should always be fried lightly before stewing them.

Frying

The object in Frying is to form a savoury and brown crust on the outside so as to keep in the juices within. Hence, as before said, a shock of “surprise” is given by plunging the article to be fried into boiling fat, and cooking it quickly so as to have it juicy and succulent within. On this account we choose things that do not need long cooking for cooking by frying methods. Small things like cutlets and chops, slices of fish and bacon, made up rolls of minced meat, and so on, and things that we can dip into batter and roll in flour or breadcrumbs are fried. But we also fry fresh fish that has been split down the back and laid flat, and small birds which want light and quick cooking. The pan and the fat must be very hot, and when dry frying (that is, frying with a pan that is only just rubbed with fat) is chosen, as for a fried beefsteak, frequent turning over and great care to do it quickly and yet without scorching, is needed.

Pour off any fat used for frying into a jar containing a little boiling water. This will clear it and leave it as a cake on the top which can be lifted off and used several times over.

Braising

Braising is a combination of baking and stewing. Really the braising-pan should hold hot coals on the top as well as be surrounded with them, and a tightly-covered vessel set within the ashes of a wood fire, with embers covering the top, would furnish an ideal braise. It is a capital way of cooking when there is only the hearth available, for the piece of meat is put inside the deep pan, with a little fat but no water, and the cover is put on and fastened down, the whole thing being smothered in hot ashes or embers. It can be left for some hours, and may be set aside to become cold before opening the pan. A large piece of meat braised would take four or five hours to cook well. A leg of pork, for instance, covered with a little fat taken from the breast, cooked in this way is delicious; so, too, is a leg of mutton. The braising-pan may be of iron that is enamelled or merely tinned inside, or of glazed earthenware. The difference between a braise and a stew is that for a stew the meat is cut up in pieces, vegetables are usually added, with seasoning and a little water to make gravy, and long cooking in a corner of the oven is necessary, while for a braise the joint is left whole, vegetables are generally omitted and the pan is buried among the ashes.

Grilling

Grilling or Broiling is a method used for cooking small steaks or chops; small fish split and laid open; small birds treated the same way, and requires a very hot red fire, with a grill that is somewhat like a magnified toaster. The thing that is grilled must be turned over and over very frequently, to cook both sides quickly and lightly, and it should be cooked through in a few minutes.

Combinations of cooking methods like frying and stewing, as just mentioned, give better results sometimes than one method alone. For example, sausages that are first boiled and then fried are twice as succulent and savoury as when only fried. A piece of bacon first boiled then baked is likewise much improved.

Condiments

Salt, which toughens meat if added at the beginning, can be put in just before the cooking is finished, but meat that has been salted long enough to preserve it is usually tender after it has been boiled. Salt arrests decay, and while it toughens the fibres it helps to draw out the juices, so that its action is helpful in certain conditions and a hindrance in others. Pepper helps to keep game and poultry sweet, and gives piquancy to any dish. Sauces and wines should never be added except at the last moment or their effect is lost. The practice of adding sauces and much seasoning is not to be commended. The object of all cooking is to bring out the flavour of the thing cooked, not to add another to it, except that other flavour is indispensable as a complement.

A Boiling-pan, a Braising-pan, a Frying-pan and a Stew-pan or casserole, with a roasting spit, might be considered the full complement of any kitchen. Less can be made to do, but more would not really be necessary, unless the more meant, shall we say, a supply of paper bags?

VII

SIMPLIFIED COOKERY RECIPES

General directions have been given with regard to cooking of meat and vegetables, making soups, and so on, in the previous chapters, but for handy reference the colonist will like to refer to the recipe itself as he wants it and when he wants it.

Soups and Broths

GAMEKEEPER’S BROTH.—Strain off clear about a quart of stock obtained by stewing the bones of game, poultry or rabbits with any meat bones available. Brown scraps and trimmings of meat will have made this stock richer and deeper in colour. Fry till brown a few small onions and carrots, and in the same fat any scraps of game or meat that seem good. Add these to the strained stock and mix with the rest of the fat in the frying-pan a little flour, some pepper and salt, stir up well and thin with a few spoonfuls of the stock, then add all to the remainder and boil up once. A little red wine would, of course, make this richer, but is not necessary.