Chapter XV: ). To save trouble of cutting, Mrs. Welles suggested pipe

bread (_grisini_) to eat with the _bouillon_, and before the bread was put to rise a piece was broken from the dough of the size of a large orange; to this was added the white of an egg, whipped a little, a tea-spoonful of powdered sugar and a good tea-spoonful of butter softened. When it was all well incorporated, flour, warmed and sifted, was added to bring it to the consistency of stiffish bread-dough. It was kneaded long and well and set to rise. It took longer than the bread, because it was a little stiffer and also the bread and additional flour weakened the yeast. When it had swelled well, however, Mrs. Welles and Molly sat down together to roll it, while Marta attended to the dinner, which was to consist of soup, stewed lamb and peas, stuffed potatoes and _méringues_, with whipped cream.

The _méringues_ had been made in the morning and the cream whipped. The stewed lamb was something so simple that it could be left to Marta, although in leaving any stewing or boiling to Marta, now or any other time, Molly never omitted an occasional glance to see that it neither left off _simmering_ and that the simmering had not become _boiling_.

“The rolling out of _grisini_ is a very tedious task,” said Mrs. Welles, “but the compensation is that they keep as well as crackers, once made.”

“You will have to direct me, Charlotte, as I have never made these before.”

“All you have to do is to roll a small piece of dough under your hands on the board, so, till it is no thicker than a pencil. If the dough is too soft—it should be stiffer than bread-dough, yet quite elastic—you can add a very little flour.” As she spoke she laid her two hands over a bit of dough as large as a hickory nut and began rolling, pressing pretty hard as she rolled.

“If they do not roll smooth, wet your palm with milk slightly.”

Molly followed directions. As each pipe was made it was laid on a baking-pan. They were irregular in length, but generally about nine or ten inches long.

It took them half an hour to roll them, for it was difficult at first for Molly to get hers of fairly even thickness all the way down, but practice brought facility. The dough made about three dozen, and they were put in a warm place to swell till as thick as a medium-sized cigar. Then they were to be baked in a _cool_ oven _half an hour_. They were to be very lightly colored, when done, about like pilot biscuits, and should snap short; hence the slow oven, as they must dry as well as cook.

The bread had not been set till early in the morning, so that it might bake late in the day, for Molly’s reception was to be on Friday—this was Wednesday—and she wanted the bread to be as near as possible two days old, for sandwiches, yet not at all stale. The _bouillon_ and cakes would be made Thursday, and there would be nothing but the sandwiches to cut and coffee to make on the day itself. Molly was anxious to get all done before that, so as to be quite fresh for her friends.

Before leaving the kitchen she went over the recipes she had written for Marta’s guidance, emphasizing all important points. For the stewed lamb there were some lean chops from under the shoulder (see Chapter III.); these were floured and laid in a stewpan with a little butter and fried brown, an onion cut up and a piece of carrot (half a small one), and enough hot water barely to cover them was poured on them with half a tea-spoonful of salt. They were to stew very slowly for two hours, then taken up and kept hot while the gravy was skimmed and allowed to boil down to half a pint, a large teaspoonful of brown thickening was put into it and a can of peas, and seasoned to taste, then the meat was returned and allowed to stew very gently a quarter of an hour more.

Harry had been told laughingly he was to expect a very plain dinner.

“And is that the result of having two expert cooks in the house? Mrs. Welles, I’ve been petting my digestion for the last month in order to cope with the culinary productions of the pair of you, and this is the result. I’ve heard before that too many cooks spoil the broth, but I didn’t know it extended to the whole dinner.”

Although Molly had made the _méringues_ herself, she had written the recipe, which is as follows:

Beat the white of two eggs as stiff as possible, that is to say, till it will not slip out of the bowl, then stir into it _very gently_ three ounces of powdered sugar, remembering the rule that anything to be mixed with white of egg must be done with a light _lifting_ motion of the spoon, rather than _stirring_, which may liquefy the eggs. Fill a table-spoon with the mixture and turn on to a sheet of white paper placed on a board which has been made a little damp; the moulds should be oval, like half an egg. Put them in a very cool oven for fifteen or twenty minutes, then open the door and leave them ten minutes longer; the idea is to make the crust as thick as possible, which is done by the long slow drying; if firm enough remove them from the paper, take out the moist centre very carefully, and when cold fill them with cream, flavored, sweetened, and whipped solid (recipe Chapter XXVIII.), then put two together; they should be _over_ full, and the cream show considerably between the two sides.

FOOTNOTE:

[3] The wine is optional.