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Chapter XVI: Part 16

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856. _Pine Apples._--I have tried several experiments with the West Indian pine-apples, many of which being rather stale when they arrive here, would make an unsightly appearance whole upon the table, but made into a compote or salad, they are really excellent, having also the advantage of being very cheap.

For a _compote_, peel one rather thickly, to leave no black spots upon it, make a syrup with half a pound of sugar, as directed (No. 831), cut your pine-apple into round slices a quarter of an inch in thickness, which put into the syrup, boiling them ten minutes; take them out with a colander-spoon, reduce the syrup until thickish, and pour it over the pine-apple; when cold it is ready to serve.

For a _salad_, peel and cut a pine-apple into small square dice, which put into a basin with two ounces of sugar-candy (powdered) and a glass of noyeau, toss all well together and serve.

For _marmalade_, pair and cut into small pieces several small pine-apples, and to every quart thus cut up add one pound of fine sugar, boil for half an hour, and put in a pot.

857. _Cake of Savoy in mould._--Have ready a large high mould lightly buttered (with a soft brush, and clarified butter), turn the mould up to drain, and when the butter is quite set throw some finely sifted sugar into it; move the mould round until the sugar has adhered to every part, after which turn out the superfluous sugar, tie a band of buttered paper round at the top, and place it in a cool place until the mixture is ready. Place the yolks of fourteen eggs in a basin, with one pound of sugar (upon which you have rubbed the rind of two lemons previous to pounding), beat well together with a wooden spoon until nearly white, then whip the whites of the eggs very stiff, add them to the yolks and sugar, with six ounces of flour and six ounces of potato-flour, mix the whole lightly but well together, and fill the mould rather more than three parts full, place it in a very moderate oven one hour, keeping the oven-door shut; then try when done as directed in the last, if done take off the paper and turn it out upon a sieve until quite cold. The above mixture being more delicate than the last, would not do so well for removes, but may be used for that purpose by being made three or four days before it is required.

858. _Savoy Cakes, or Ladies' Fingers._--Have the weight of nine eggs of sugar in a bowl, which put into a bain-marie of hot water, weigh the same weight of flour, which sift through a wire sieve upon paper, break the eggs into a bowl, and proceed as directed for sponge-cake; then with a paper funnel or bag, with a thin pipe made for that purpose, lay it out upon papers into biscuits three inches in length and the thickness of your little finger, sift sugar over, shaking off all that does not adhere to them; place them upon baking-sheets, and bake in rather a warm oven of a brownish-yellow color, when done and cold, detach them from the paper by wetting it at the back, place them a short time to dry, and they are ready for use for charlotte russe, or wherever directed.

859. _Sponge Cake._--Put one pound of powdered sugar in a good-sized bowl, which stand in a bain-marie of hot water; sift one pound of flour upon a sheet of paper, then break twelve eggs into the bowl with the sugar, which whisk rather quickly until they become a little warm and rather thickish, then take the bowl from the bain-marie, and continue whisking until nearly or quite cold; then add the chopped rind of a lemon and the flour, which mix lightly with a wooden spoon; have ready your mould or baking-dish lightly buttered, into which you have put a little flour, knocking out all that does not adhere to the butter, pour in the mixture and place it one hour in a moderate oven, it may require longer or not so long, but that will depend entirely upon the compass you have it in; if done it will feel firm to the touch, but the surest method is to run a thin wooden skewer into the centre, if it comes out clean the cake is done, but if not some of the mixture would adhere to it; care should be taken not to disturb it until quite set, or it would sink in the centre, and never properly bake; when done turn it out upon a sieve to cool. Serve where indicated.

860. _Small Sponge Cakes._--Put six whole eggs into an earthen pan with half a pound of sugar, upon which you have previously rubbed the rind of a lemon, stand the pan in very hot water, keeping its contents well mixed until becoming rather warm, when take it from the water, continuing to whisk until quite cold and thickish, when stir in gently half a pound of sifted flour; have ready buttered, and dusted with sugar, about a dozen small sponge-cake tins, put a tablespoonful of the mixture into each, shake sugar over, and bake them in a moderate oven.

861. _Pound Cakes._--Put one pound of butter into an earthen pan with a pound of powdered sugar, and a little grated nutmeg, beat them well together with the hand until forming a smooth lightish cream, when add by degrees eight eggs, beating it ten minutes after, when add a pound and a quarter of sifted flour, stir it in lightly, and put the mixture into hoops to bake.

862. _Queen's Cakes._--Weigh of butter the weight of six eggs, and nine of powdered sugar, which put together in an earthen pan, heat well with the hand until forming a smooth cream, when add by degrees nine eggs, and when well beat, stir in the weight of nine eggs of flour and half a pound of currants; have ready buttered about a dozen little round cake pans, fill each one rather better than three parts full with the mixture, shake sugar over, and bake them in a moderate oven. If no cake pans, drop the mixture upon paper in pieces half the size of a walnut, and an inch and a half apart, shake sugar over, bake in a warm oven, and, when done, remove them from the papers.

863. _Almond Cakes._--Procure one pound of ground almonds, to which add two pounds of powdered sugar, mixing the whole with the whites of nine eggs, beating the mixture well with a wooden spoon for about ten minutes, lay them out upon wafer paper of an oval shape with a tablespoon, put three or four strips of almonds upon the top of each, and bake them in a slow oven; when done, break away all the wafer paper but that which adheres to the bottom of the paper, and, when cold, they are ready for use.

864. _Cocoa-Nut Biscuits._--Scrape four cocoa nuts, to which add the same weight of powdered sugar, mix with whites of eggs, beating with a wooden spoon until forming a softish but thick paste; lay the mixture out upon wafer-paper in small drops, baking them as directed in the last.

865. _Moss Biscuits._--Weigh half a pound of flour, to which add an ounce and a half of butter and five ounces of sugar, rub them well together and mix with one whole and one white of egg and a teaspoonful of milk; then add two ounces of ground almonds, which rub well into the paste; afterwards rub the whole through a gauze wire sieve, taking it off in small pieces, which lay upon a lightly-buttered baking-sheet, and bake them in a moderate oven.

866. _Rout Cakes._--Procure one pound of ground almonds, to which add one pound of powdered sugar, mixing them together with yolks of eggs until forming a stiffish but flexible paste, when form it into small biscuits of the shapes of coronets, bunches of filberts, birds' nests, or any other shapes your fancy may dictate; let them remain five or six hours, or all night, upon the baking-sheet, and bake them in a warm oven.

867. _Rout Biscuits._--Boil a pound and a quarter of lump sugar, upon which you have rubbed the rind of a lemon, in half a pint of milk; when cold, rub half a pound of butter with two pounds of flour, make a hole in the centre, pour in the milk with as much carbonate of soda as would lie upon a sixpence, and a couple of eggs, mix the whole into a smooth paste, lay it out upon your baking-sheet in whatever flat shapes you please, and bake them in a very warm oven.

The proper way to shape these biscuits is by wooden blocks having leaves, pine-apples, and other devices carved upon them.

868. _Cream Biscuits._--Rub one pound of fresh butter into one pound of flour, make a hole in the centre, into which put half a pound of powdered sugar upon which the rind of a lemon was rubbed previously to pounding, and three whole eggs, mix the eggs well with the sugar, and then mix all together, forming a flexible paste; cut it into round pieces each nearly as large as a walnut, stamp them flat with a butter-stamp of the size of a crown-piece, and bake them in a slack oven.

869. _Shrewsbury Cakes._--Weigh one pound of flour, into which rub half a pound of butter and six ounces of flour, make a hole in the centre, into which break a couple of eggs, and add sufficient milk to form a flexible paste, which roll out to the thickness of a penny-piece, and cut it into small cakes with a round cutter; bake them in a moderate oven.

_Ginger Cakes_ are made precisely as the above, but adding half an ounce of ground ginger before mixing; and _Cinnamon Cakes_, by rubbing in an ounce and a half of ground cinnamon after the paste is mixed.

870. _Macaroons._--Blanch and skin half a pound of sweet almonds, dry them well in your screen, then put them into a mortar with a pound and a half of lump sugar, pound well together, and pass the whole through a wire sieve; put it again into a mortar, with the whites of two eggs, mix well together with the pestle, then add the white of another egg, proceeding thus until you have used the whites of about eight eggs and made a softish paste, when lay them out at equal distances, apart upon wafer-paper, in pieces nearly the size of walnuts, place some strips of almonds upon the top, sift sugar over, and bake in a slow oven of a yellowish brown color; they are done when set quite firm through.

871. _Ratafias._--Ratafias are made similar to the above, but deducting two ounces of sweet, and adding two ounces of bitter almonds; they are laid out in much smaller cakes upon common paper, and baked in a much warmer oven; when cold, they may be taken off the paper with the greatest ease.

These cakes are very serviceable in making a great many second-course dishes.

872. _Italian Drops._--Have a mixture similar to the above, merely a liqueur glassful of best noyeau, lay it in round drops upon paper, and bake in a hot oven without sifting any sugar over; when taken from the papers, dry them a little in the screen, and they are ready to serve.

The bottoms may be spread over with apricot marmalade, and two stuck together just previous to being served, if approved of.

873. _St. James's Cake._--Put one pound of very fresh butter in a good-sized kitchen basin, and with the right hand work it up well till it forms quite a white cream; then add one pound powdered sugar, mix well, add ten eggs by degrees; put to dry a pound and a quarter of flour, which mix as lightly as possible with it; blanch and cut in slices two ounces of pistachios, two ditto of green preserved angelica, add two liqueur glasses of noyeau, two drops of essence of vanilla; whip a gill and a half of cream till very thick, mix lightly with a wooden spoon.

LETTER No. XVII

THE DINNER-TABLE.

MY DEAR ELOISE,--I thank you for your kind compliment, but I have
always been of opinion that the arrangements and serving of a
dinner-table, have as much to do with the happiness and pleasure of
a party as the viands which are placed upon it; this I had a
practical proof of last week. Mr. B. and myself were invited to
dine with Mr. D., a city friend, at Balham Hill; I had before met
Mrs. D. at an evening party, at his partner's, at Hackney, and knew
little of her.

Dinner was served pretty punctually, only half an hour after time.
On my entrance in the room, my first glance at the table showed me
that there was a want of _savoir-faire_ in its management: the
plate, very abundant and splendid, was of so yellow a cast that it
looked as if it were plated, and the cut glass was exceedingly dim.
My first surprise was that there were no napkins, the next the soup
plates were quite cold, which I have found often the case in other
houses; after being served with fish, and waiting until it was cold
for the sauce to eat with it, I was rather sceptical how the rest
of the dinner would progress. After the first, the second course
made its appearance, which was heavy and too abundant; the plain
things were well done, but there was only one servant in the room
for the whole party of fourteen, and from the strict formality of
the table, it would have been a sacrilege to have handed your plate
for any vegetables, or anything else you might require. There were
four saltcellars, certainly very massive silver ones, at each
corner of the table, and a beautiful cruet-frame in the centre; the
hot dishes of this course, like the previous one, became cold and
tasteless before being eaten, and during the time the servant was
serving the champagne, all the plates were empty; in fact it was a
good dinner spoilt. The wine drank with less goût than usual, and
the long pauses between the courses made the formality appear still
greater than it really was, and made you wish for the time to
arrive for the cloth to be removed, which was not done, only the
slips, a most awkward undertaking for one servant, and should never
be practised unless having at least two.

About half an hour after the cloth was removed, and just as the
conversation was being thawed from the freezing it received at the
dinner-table, Mrs. D. and the ladies withdrew, and for an hour and
a half we had to bear the insipid conversation of the drawing-room,
the hissing urn on the tea-table bearing a prominent part. Several
messages were sent from time to time to the dining-room that coffee
was ready; and when at last the gentlemen came, two had had quite
wine enough, which caused them to receive sundry angry looks from
their wives who were present, and who were glad to get them into
their carriages which were waiting, and right glad indeed was I
when ours was announced.

This all happened, my dear Eloise, not from meanness; for if money
could have purchased it nothing would have been wanting, but solely
from want of _management_; and every one should think before they
invite their friends to partake of their hospitality, if they know
how to entertain them. Money of course will provide delicacies of
all kinds, but to know how to dispose of those delicacies to the
best advantage, that your friends may appreciate them, is what is
sadly wanting in more than one house I visit.

A very excellent remark is made in _Punch_ by Mr. Brown, in his
Letters to a Young Man about Town, on the subject of great and
little dinners. He says: "Properly considered the quality of the
dinner is twice blest; it blesses him that gives, and him that
takes; a dinner with friendliness is the best of all friendly
meetings--a pompous entertainment, where no love is, is the least
satisfactory."

Our dinner on which you compliment me so much, we sat down twelve,
for although the room and table would accommodate more, yet as my
service of plate is for that number, and the arrangements of the
kitchen are limited, that is the number I prefer, besides beyond
which the conversation becomes partial, which is the bane of a
dinner-table. You know we have no regular man-servant, but for
these occasions I hire two, and place one on each side the table,
and they each have their own side table with a change of everything
that is required. The first thing to be looked to is the lights:
these ought to be so placed as not to intercept the view of any
person at the table, but at the same time they ought to be enough
to show everything off to advantage; I prefer removing some of the
lights from the table to the sideboard when the cloth is removed,
as the light after dinner ought to be more subdued. In laying the
cloth we place it over the baize, and remove it after dinner, as
Mr. B. says he likes to see the mahogany, for when he asks a city
friend to come and put his feet under his mahogany, it looks rather
foolish if he never sees it. I have, as you know, my table rather
wide, that is, six feet, and I generally place a vase of flowers in
the centre, as I think their freshness and odor add greatly to the
appearance of the table, and admit a flanc on each side. We prefer
the old English plan of taking the top and bottom of the table,
instead of I and Mr. B. being together at the side.

The cloth being laid with its proper side uppermost, I order a
napkin, two knives, two prongs, two tablespoons, and two
wine-glasses to be placed to each person, a saltcellar between
every other, that being a condiment which every one uses, though
often wrongly; the cruet-frames and other requisites are kept on
the sideboards. I then have the fish and soup served together, the
potatoes and sauce on the sideboard; I serving the soup, and Mr. B.
the fish, and often a little dish of fried fish, such as smelts,
&c., to remove the soups. This gives me an opportunity of seeing
that my guests are properly attended to, and also leisure of taking
wine with any gentleman who challenges me. During the time this
course has been progressing, the cook has had time to dish up the
removes nice and hot, and get all up close to the door, as I like
as little time as possible to intervene in changing the dishes; and
these consist generally of variously dressed chickens, which I have
before me, as this gives an opportunity for the gentleman on my
right to display his gallantry; but, thanks to Soyer's separator,
this is an easy task. This affords me still further leisure to pay
attention to my guests. Mr. B., who is a capital carver, either has
a saddle or a haunch of mutton, or a quarter of lamb before him,
the rest of the dishes consisting of a tongue and entrées. I select
those most easy to carve, and also easy for the cook to prepare.
This is a period of dinner where a great deal depends upon the
attendants; they should know almost by the look what this lady or
that gentleman require, and what kind of vegetables to hand them; a
first-rate butler should be able to judge by the physiognomy to
whom he should offer mint sauce with the lamb, and who prefers
cayenne; on their attention and hot plates, depends the success of
the substantial part of the dinner.

As soon as I see that all are served, and words are few in
consequence of the organ which utters them being employed in
another way, I give a look to the two servants, which they
understand, and immediately two reports are heard,--they are from
two bottles of champagne, opened at the same time by the
attendants, who have each a salver with six glasses on it; this
takes but a short time to serve, and prepares the palate for the
entrées, which generally get praised; indeed my cook would think
something was wrong if two of the dishes did not go down empty. By
having the champagne thus, I find it goes much further than if only
one bottle was opened at the time, there being sufficient left in
the bottles for a gentleman to challenge a lady to take champagne
with him. If I have game I remove the top and bottom dishes with
them, and make the sweets a separate course, taking care to have
_cold plates_ for the jelly, and having the liquors handed round
when the sweets are on the table; one cheese I place opposite Mr.
B., and macaroni opposite myself. Objections have been made to the
use of napkins, as being of no service at an English dinner-table,
and only a copy of the dirty manners of our neighbors. If we are
more cleanly at the table than they are (which I question), there
is no reason why we should not use that which would make us still
more so; but Mr. B. is so well pleased with the rose water which he
has at the court dinners of his company, that he made me a present
of those two beautiful dishes which you admired so much. The
outside compartment holds rose-water, and the inner one a little
eau-de-cologne; these are placed on salvers, and pass down each
side of the table, the corner of each napkin being dipped into it.
They seem to be absolutely required, and I must say they form a
delightful adjunct to the dinner-table.

He[9] has also introduced at our table, but _only at Christmas_,
another city custom, which the gentlemen seem very much to like,--I
cannot say so for the ladies; it is what he calls a loving cup; he
has it placed before him when the cheese is put on; and after
filling the glass of the lady on each side of him, he rises and
drinks to their health and the rest of the company, and then passes
it to the gentleman on the left, who, in like manner, fills the
glass of the lady on his left, rises, drinks to her health and the
company, and thus it goes round the table. Your husband, my dear
Eloise, thought that the contents were exceedingly good, or, as he
expressed it, nectar fit for the gods, and would like to have the
receipt,--here it is as Mr. B. prepares it:--The cup holds two
quarts; he places in it half a teacupful of capillaire; if he has
none, he uses dissolved lump sugar, with a few drops of
orange-flower water in it, one pint of brown sherry, one bottle of
good _Edinburgh_ ale, mixing these together, and a minute before
placing on the table, adding one bottle of soda water, stirring it
well up till it froths; he then grates some nutmeg on the froth,
and places a piece of toast in it, and sends it to the table with a
napkin through the handle of the cup. I must say, since we have had
this, it has produced some most interesting conversation as
regarded the antiquity of the custom, &c. In addition, Mr. B.
bought the cup at a sale, and it is stated to have been drunk out
of by Henry the Eighth: this of itself is a subject of
conversation, and draws out the talents and conversational powers
of our guests, and one in which ladies can join, as there is hardly
one of our sex who has not read Miss Strickland's "Queens of
England." You have often made the remark, that the time always
appears short whilst we are at table; this is, no doubt, from the
animated conversation which is kept up, for that is the real motive
of meeting together, to enjoy the conversation of one another, to
gain and impart information, and amuse ourselves with the wit and
talent of those around us, and not for the sake of eating and
drinking; yet without the assistance of both of these, the most
sparkling wit would be as heavy as a bad soufflé, and the brightest
talent as dull as my looking-glass on a foggy day.

In order to prolong the time, and to enjoy the gentlemen's society
as much as possible, I do not have the dessert placed on the table
until ten or twenty minutes after the cloth is removed; this also
gives an opportunity for my guests to admire the beautiful Sevres
dessert plates, containing views of the French chateaux; this of
course gives a subject for conversation to those who have visited
them. In the dessert I generally introduce some new importation,
such as bananas, sugar-cane, American lady apples, prickly pears,
&c.; these also give a subject for the gentlemen to talk about when
the ladies have left, as free trade, colonial policy, &c. About
half an hour after the dessert is on the table, and when I see that
the conversation is becoming less general, I retire to the
drawing-room; the servants then remove the dirty glass and plates,
and Mr. B. introduces some of his choice claret or Burgundy in ice
coolers.

You know, my dear Eloise, I allow very little more than half an
hour for us to talk about the last new fashions, or of Mrs. A. and
B.'s cap, and the young ones about their partners at the last ball,
and other nothings, when the tea and coffee are brought up on
salvers; it is always made down stairs, and sent up in cups to the
drawing-room, although Mr. B. had a very handsome silver service
presented to him just after we were married, for serving as an
honorary secretary to some grand masonic festival, yet the milk
ewer and sugar basin are all I allow in the room. This does away
with the formality of the tea-table and the hissing of the tea-urn;
it allows some young gentlemen with a Byron collar and a little
down under his chin to turn over the pages of a music-book for a
young lady at the piano, and make his coffee at the same time; it
allows my dear mamma and Mr. P. to make up their whist table, and
have their tea whilst playing; or, if we make up a quadrille, to
have a few turns of a waltz or polka, the coffee is serving during
the time; whilst this is going on the hand of the clock advances,
and half-past ten soon arrives, and with it Mrs. C.'s fly; Dr. D.'s
brougham is at the door; the party breaks up, delighted with the
evening they have passed in each other's society: and this you see
done with trifling management.

LETTER No. XVIII

DEAREST ELOISE,--You are right in your remark, that there is a
great difference as to the manner and way in which evening parties
or soirées are given in different houses, although being frequented
by the same party or circle. I must say I have my own ideas on this
subject, and I think the French understand this matter much better
than we do, and that we could not do better than imitate them. We
English are a plodding, matter-of-fact people, and carry our
notions into every concern in life: our dinners and entertainments
are given with an ulterior object, and with a view of what may be
gained from it, even from the charitable dinner at the London
Tavern to the man who asks another to partake of a pint of beer
with him at a public-house. It is this, together with ostentation,
which is the bane of society, by bringing together people of
incongruity of ideas, destroying that free exchange of thought
which constitutes the true pleasure of social réunions; we are also
naturally of a reserved and cautious disposition: hence the reason
why the pleasures of a soirée are not felt until after supper. Of
these I am a great advocate, though not to the extravagant and
outré manner many are given in the present day. Of course in the
way most ladies are now educated, they would rather be attending to
the adornment of their persons for the occasion than to the
entertainment and amusement of their guests. Those who can afford
it, are quite right to patronize a first-rate confectioner, and
thus save themselves the trouble; but how many that cannot afford
it do the same thing, and make a bargain for a bad supper with one,
by which he gains little, and the guests great disgust, instead of
doing it at home and ordering a few good things which would look
and eat well. There are a variety of drinks which could be made at
a moderate expense, good and wholesome, and infinitely better than
bad Marsala, which you are often obliged to partake of. I will
enclose you a few receipts for them, and some bills of fare for
suppers for small soirées.

BEVERAGES FOR EVENING PARTIES.

874. _Lemonade._--Peel six lemons free from pith, cut them up in small pieces, and put them with two cloves in a bottle, with half a pint of hot water, and place it in a bain-marie, or stewpan, with boiling water, and let it stand by the side of the fire for one or two hours, taking care it does not boil; remove it and let it remain until cold; then take half a pint of lemon-juice, half a pint of capillaire--if none, use sugar, that will make the same quantity of syrup--to which add a few drops of orange-flower water; add the infusion of the rind, stir well together, and add two quarts of cold water. The acidity of some lemons is greater than others, in which case, and also if using lime-juice, more capillaire must be used.

875. _Cold Punch._--Proceed as above for lemonade, but add one pint of capillaire to half a pint of lemon-juice, one pint of pale brandy, one pint of pale rum, one tablespoonful of arrack, and five quarts of cold water; let it remain some time before it is decantered.

876. _Port Wine Negus._--Take one quart of new port wine, of a fruity character, one tablespoonful of spirit of cloves, one teacupful of sugar, one lemon sliced, half a nutmeg grated, pour over these two quarts of boiling water.

877. _White Wine Fillip._--Take one bottle of sherry or Madeira, or champagne, or any other good white wine, a gill of noyeau or maraschino, the juice of half a lemon, add to it one quart of calf's foot jelly well sweetened and boiling hot, and serve immediately.

878. _Sandwiches._--In making a large quantity, a stale quartern loaf should be taken and trimmed free from all crust, and cut into slices the eighth of an inch in thickness, slightly buttered, and then thin slices of meat, nicely trimmed, may be laid on and covered with another slice of bread, and then cut into eight parts; should they be but some time before they are wanted, they ought to be put one over the other, as they thus keep moist,--a little mustard and salt may be added to the meat, if preferred. Some thin slices of gherkin may be added to the meat, and the same plan can be adopted with pickled fish, brawn or sausages.

The following varies the common mode of making sandwiches:

Take a small quantity of very fresh cream cheese, put it into a basin or a marble mortar, add some salt, pepper, and a little mustard, beat it well up until it is of the same consistence as butter; if too hard add a little of the latter, and use it as butter on the bread, with slices of meat between. Or make it into salad sandwiches:--cover the bread as before, and have ready some mustard and cress and water-cresses well washed and dried, put into a bowl with mayonnaise sauce, and when ready to serve place it neatly between the bread.

LETTER No. XIX

---- Farm, Essex, July --, 1849.

MY DEAR ELOISE,--You are no doubt surprised at receiving this from
the above address, but you remember when you last called I thought
my little Emily was unwell, the next day she seemed worse, I then
had the Dr.--, who ordered her out of town, and a friend of Mr.
B.'s being present recommended this place; so Emily and I have now
been a week here, and she has already improved by the change of
air; it has also done me good, and I am greatly amused with the
various occupations going on in the farm, which is an old-fashioned
one, tenanted by a good old English farmer, his wife, and son; the
latter is gone to see a brother settled in Liverpool. The
cleanliness and regularity of the house are quite charming; but
what delights me more than all is the dairy--such delicious cream
and butter that it makes me quite envy people living in the
country!

I must describe the pretty dairy to you: it is situated at the back
of the house, and sheltered by it from the mid-day and afternoon's
sun, and from the morning's sun by a plantation, so that it is
deliciously cool; it is about twelve feet long by ten wide, paved
with flat stones, and the walls of plaster, like stone, a door at
one end with a window above and a window high up at the other end,
and two windows at the side; these have thin wire shutters and
glazed sashes on hinges; the roof is of slate, with about two feet
thickness of thatch over it; there are also several little openings
for the admission of air, about one inch from the floor. A dresser,
two feet wide, being two inches from the wall, is on both sides,
and above these are two shelves of nine inches wide, also two
inches from the wall, these are supported on iron brackets. At the
end, and opposite the door, is the churn, which is turned by a
wheel outside, with apparatus for a donkey or mule to work it, if
required.

All the utensils are of sycamore wood and perfectly clean, never
used twice without washing in hot water with soda put in it, and
made perfectly dry.

There are as many ways of making butter as there are counties in
Great Britain. I will now tell you how it is practised here. The
cows are milked at a regular hour, not later than five, the milk
taken as soon as possible into the dairy, and placed in the dishes
about six quarts in each; is thus left for twenty-four hours; then
it is skimmed, and the cream from each is placed in a deep bowl or
pan, where it remains until the next day, when it is churned.
Friday's milk is made into cheese; when churned it is gathered
well together from the milk and laid in a clean bowl, with hard
spring water in it, and worked to and fro until it is brought to a
firm consistence; it is then laid out thin, and then what is called
here a scotcher is taken--that is, a kind of five-pronged fork of
wood, only each prong is as sharp as a knife, and drawn through
every part of it; then whatever salt is required is added, and it
is then formed into pats, or done any way they like. If intended as
corned or salt butter, they then add one pound of fine salt to
every fourteen pounds of butter; in some places the coarsest
grained salt is used; in others two pounds of salt, one pound of
saltpetre, and one pound of white sugar mixed together, one fourth
of this for every fourteen pounds. If intended for keeping, it is
put into stone crocks until it is wanted. The way in which they
make the cheese here is as follows: all Friday's milk is taken,
that of the morning is kept until the afternoon, and mixed with it;
then two spoonfuls of rennet to every twelve quarts of milk are put
to it and well mixed, it is then left all night. Very early the
next morning the curd is removed with a strainer and equally broken
into the cheese vat or mote until it is about one inch above the
brim, a cheese cloth or strainer having previously been put at the
bottom of the vat, and large enough to allow for part of it to be
turned over the top when the vat is filled; when thus filled it is
taken to the press, and left for two hours with a clean cloth under
it; it is then turned over on the cloth, and pressed again; and the
same process is continued three or four hours out of the
twenty-four. It is then removed and placed on the shelf, and turned
regularly every day for the first two months; after that
occasionally.

I intend to try my hand at it shortly, and see what I can make of
it.

I find that the butter which is made here and potted for winter use
is not intended to be sold as salt, but as fresh, and the
dairy-maid has just told me how it is done. For every quart of new
milk from the cow, she takes one pound of potted butter, which has
been treated thus the day previous: into two quarts of cold water
two tablespoonfuls of vinegar are mixed, and the potted butter well
broken and kneaded in it, and then taken out, and served the same
in fresh water, in which it is left until the next morning, and
then mixed with the milk, put into the churn and churned again, and
then treated in the usual way as butter; by this plan there is a
large quantity of sweet milk always in the farm, as it is
exceedingly good when strained.

The following is the way they make the clouted cream:--

879. _Clouted Cream._--Strain the milk as soon as it comes from the cow into wide pans, holding about six quarts each, so as to be about three inches deep, and let it remain for twenty-four hours; then gently place the pan upon a hot plate or slow charcoal fire, which must heat it very gently, for if it boils it is spoilt; as soon as the cream forms a ring in the middle, remove a little with the finger, and if there are a few bubbles rise in the place where you do so, it is done, which will be in half to three quarters of an hour; remove it from the fire, and let it remain twenty-four hours; then skim it, and throw a little sugar on the top.

CONVERSATION ON HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.

_Mrs. R._ After all the receipts and information which you have
given me, there is one which you have not touched upon yet, which,
perhaps, is of more importance than all the rest, it is the
management of servants.

_Mrs. B._ You are right, my dear, it is of great importance, and
more so than many of us imagine, as for myself I do not consider
that I am a good manager, being perhaps of too forgiving a
disposition; but there is one good quality which I possess which
makes up for the want of others, that is exactitude; by enforcing
this it causes all to know their place, and perform their work.

_Mrs. R._ But what surprises me is to see everything so well done
and clean with so few servants; you seem to have but two maid
servants, the cook, house-maid, and coachman.

_Mrs. B._ Yes, that is all, and I generally find that they are
enough for the work, unless I have a dinner party, and then of
course, as you know, I have extra men; but I will tell you how I
pass the day, and then you will be able to judge.

We are what are called early risers, that is, Mr. B. is obliged to
leave home every week day at twenty minutes past nine; our
breakfast is on the table at half-past eight; the breakfast parlor
having previously been got ready, as the servants rise at seven. We
are, when we have no visitors, our two selves, the three children,
and the governess. The children, in summer time, have had a walk
before breakfast, but before leaving their room they uncover their
beds, and if fine open the windows, if a wet morning about two
inches of the top sash is pulled down. The servants get their
breakfast at the same time as we do, as we require hardly any or no
waiting upon, everything being ready on the table. In a former
letter I told you what was our breakfast some years since when in
business, now we have placed on the table some brown bread, rolls
and dry toast; the butter is in a glass butter-dish, and the eggs
are brought up when we have sat down to table. The urn is placed on
the table, as I make my own tea and coffee; the cocoa is made down
stairs.

You will perhaps be surprised when I say that I make the coffee for
breakfast myself, but I have done so for some little time past,
having found that when made in the kitchen it never came up twice
alike, but now we always have it delicious.

I lately purchased a coffee-pot which enables me to do it in the
very best manner, with no more trouble than I have in making the
tea. I mentioned it in my receipts for coffee, and said it was
invented by a Mr. S., which letter was inserted by mistake instead
of C. which it ought to be. It is called Carey's Hecla. It makes
the very best coffee at one short operation, and is so contrived as
to produce it almost boiling hot; in fact, never permitting the
great mistake of boiling the coffee itself at all.

Mr. B. generally leaves home in the brougham, which returns in time
for me; in case I should be going out, he then goes in a cab or
omnibus. Whilst we are at breakfast, I generally consult Mr. B.
what he would like for dinner, and if he is likely to invite any
friend to dine with him; the fishmonger has previously sent his
list and prices of the day. I then write with a pencil on a slip of
paper the bill of fare for the nursery dinner, luncheon, should any
be required, and our dinner, which I send to the cook. At ten
o'clock I go down stairs into the kitchen and larder, when the cook
gives me her report, that is everything that is required for the
next twenty-four hours' consumption, including the servants'
dinner, which report is filed in the larder and made to tally with
the week's list, for I must tell you that the week's consumption of
all things that will not spoil is had in on the Saturday, on which
day the larder is properly scoured out, and everything put again
into its proper place, there being bins for all kinds of
vegetables, &c. The larder is generally kept locked, the cook and I
only having keys, because it is in fact a larder, and not, as in
many houses, full of emptiness; this occupies about half an hour,
during which time the chambermaids have been attending to the
bed-rooms and drawing-room, &c. If I go out or not, I always get my
toilet finished by twelve o'clock; I thus have one hour to write
notes, or see tradesmen or my dressmaker, and Monday mornings check
and pay my tradesmen's accounts, and to dress. If I stop at home, I
amuse myself by reading, or going to see the children in the
nursery, or sometimes go again into the kitchen and assist the cook
on some new receipt or preparation, and often have several calls;
during the course of the morning the two maids scour out
alternately one or two of the rooms, according to size, except on
Wednesdays, when one of them is otherwise engaged.

Mr. B. arrives home at twenty minutes to five, and at half-past
five we dine: the cloth is laid, and everything prepared as if we
had company; it may be a little more trouble for the servants; but
when we do have any friends they find it less trouble; besides it
is always uncertain but what Mr. B. may bring somebody home with
him, and it prevents slovenly habits; the two maids, with the
exception of Wednesdays, are always ready to attend on us. I never
allow the coachman to defile our carpets with his stable shoes; all
his duties in the house are--the first thing in the morning to
clean the knives and forks for the day, for enough are kept out for
that purpose, clean the boots and shoes, and those windows the
maids cannot easily get at, and assist in the garden if required.
Many have made the remark to me, that as you have a male servant
why not have him wait at table. I reply that the duties of the
stable are incompatible with those of the table, and if he does his
duty properly he has enough to do. The servants dine at one, and
have tea at quarter to five, by which time the cook has everything
ready, all but to take it from the fire, and the maids the
dining-room ready. The nursery dinner is at the same hour; after
dinner, should we be alone, we have the children and the governess
down; if we have company we do not see them; they go to bed at a
quarter to eight, and we have tea and coffee at eight; the
governess comes and passes the rest of the evening with us; eleven
is our usual hour of retiring, before which Mr. B. likes his glass
of negus, a biscuit, or a sandwich, which is brought upon a tray.

_Mrs. L._--What you have described to me is all very well, yet I am
certain, that if I go and try to do the same to-morrow, I shall not
succeed; how is it that you have everything in its place, and I
never hear a word said to the servants?

_Mrs. B._--It is because they all know their duties, and if they
should in any way neglect them, I think of the maxim, bear and
forbear, for none of us are perfect, and I take an opportunity when
I may be alone with them to tell them quietly of their faults. Some
mistresses will go into the kitchen and be angry with them before
the other servants; the consequence is, that as soon as her back is
turned they all begin to laugh. A ridiculous incident of this kind
occurred the other evening at Mrs. G.'s. We missed her out of the
drawing-room just before tea, and it appeared that her young boy
Fred, followed her; whilst we were at tea he was very
communicative, as children sometimes will be (l'enfant terrible),
and said, "We have been having such fun in the kitchen." On inquiry
he said, "My mother has been down stairs scolding Jane, and I hid
myself behind the door; and when my mother had gone up, Betsy the
cook spoke and moved her hands just like mamma; it made us all
laugh so, it was such fun." I need not tell you it was no fun for
Mrs. G., who looked rather annoyed. We should ever remember, that
we have our feelings, and should also think that others have
theirs; and I think it is as much the mistress's fault when
anything goes wrong in the house, as the servants'. I only lose my
servants when they get married, or from ill health, and the only
thing that I find bad, is, that they quarrel amongst themselves,
but should this occur thrice with the same two, I dismiss them
both. I am certain, that if you teach your servants to take care of
themselves, they are certain to take care of you. I continually
hear Mrs. M. complaining of changing her servants, and that seems
to be her sole occupation. Poor thing, she has no children, and
nothing to occupy her mind, and without occupation the mind becomes
diseased, and the least action throws it into fever. Mrs. N.
complains of the extravagance of her servants; it is her own
extravagance, or, more properly speaking, her want of management
which causes all; but this I really think, that if everybody were
more cautious in receiving and giving characters to servants other
than what they are, we should not hear the continual complaint we
do, when often assembled in the drawing-room after dinner, when,
perhaps, some dear old lady complains of the education given to
young people of the present day, and that, in time, there will be
no such thing as servants. To some extent I am of her opinion, and
consider that the education given by all classes to their children,
is a great deal more ornamental than useful. I would rather see
the child taught some of the accomplishments of housekeeping, than
that she should be considered as the mere ornament of the
drawing-room. I think it is the bounden duty of every mother, where
the income of the husband may be dependent on trade or profession,
to give her children that education which even the most adverse of
circumstances may call upon them to assume. Look at the
advertisements which appear in the public press every day!--Young
girls offering themselves as governesses, to be remunerated by
their board; whereas, if they had been educated with a knowledge of
some useful employment, they would have made good ladies' maids or
housekeepers, or useful wives to tradesmen.

BILLS OF FARE.

When I was first married and commencing business, and our means were limited, the following was our system of living:

_Sunday's Dinner._--Roast-Beef, Potatoes, Greens, and Yorkshire
Pudding.

_Monday._--Hashed Beef and Potatoes.

_Tuesday._--Broiled Beef and Bones, Vegetables, and Spotted Dick
Pudding.

_Wednesday._--Fish if cheap, Chops and Vegetables.

_Thursday._--Boiled Pork, Peas Pudding, and Greens.

_Friday._--Peas Soup, Remains of Pork.

_Saturday._--Stewed Steak with Suet Dumpling.

The Sunday's dinner I used to vary, one time Beef, another Mutton, another Pork or Veal, and sometimes a Baked Sucking Pig; our living then, including a good Breakfast and Tea, cost us about 32_s._ per week.

In case we had a few friends, we used to make an addition by having one Fish, Leg of Mutton, Roast Fowls, Pickled Pork, and Peas Pudding, with a Mould Pudding and Fruit Tart, and a little dessert.

This was for the first two years; our means and business then increasing, and having the three young men to dine with us, we were of course obliged to increase our expenditure and to alter our mode of living, besides which I had accompanied Mr. B. to France, where my culinary ideas received a great improvement.

The following is the plan we then adopted:

_Sunday._--Pot-au-Feu, Fish--Haunch of Mutton or a Quarter of Lamb,
or other good joint--Two Vegetables--Pastry and a Fruit Pudding--A
little Dessert.

_Monday._--Vermicelli Soup made from the Pot-au-Feu of the day
previous--The Bouilli of the Pot-au-Feu--Remains of the Mutton--Two
Vegetables--Fruit Tart.

_Tuesday._--Fish--Shoulder of Veal stuffed--Roast Pigeons, or
Leveret, or Curry--Two Vegetables--Apples with Rice, and light
Pastry.

_Wednesday._--Spring Soup--Roast Fowls, Remains of Veal minced, and
Poached Eggs--Two Vegetables--Rowley Powley Pudding.

_Thursday._--Roast-Beef--Remains of Fowl--Two Vegetables--Sweet
Omelette.

_Friday._--Fish--Shoulder of Lamb--Miroton of Beef--Two
Vegetables--Baked Pudding.

_Saturday._--Mutton Broth--Boiled Neck Mutton--Liver and Bacon--Two
Vegetables--Currant Pudding.

Our parties then, when we had them, never consisted of more than ten.

We had: Julienne Soup--Fish--a quarter of Lamb--Vegetables, Cutlets--Vegetables, Bacon and Beans--Boiled Turkey--Pheasant--Jelly or Cream--Pastry--Lobster Salad--Omelette or Soufflé--Dessert, &c.

At present, though the number of our establishment is not greater, yet the style and manner of our living have changed. We dine alone, except when Mr. B. invites somebody to dine with him, which is most generally the case; our daily bill of fare consists of something like the following:--

One Soup or Fish, generally alternate--One Remove, either Joint or Poultry--One Entrée--Two Vegetables--Pudding or Tart--A little Dessert.

This may seem a great deal for two persons; but when you remember that we almost invariably have one or two to dine with us, and the remains are required for the breakfast, lunch, nursery and servants' dinners, you will perceive that the dinner is the principal expense of the establishment, by which means you are enabled to display more liberality to your guests, and live in greater comfort without waste. Our parties at present, to many of which you have constantly been, and therefore know, vary according to the season; here are a few bills of fare of them; the following is one for two persons:--

One Soup, say Purée of Artichokes--One Fish, Cod Slices in Oyster Sauce--Remove with Smelts or White Bait.

_Removes._--Saddle of Mutton--Turkey in Celery Sauce.

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The Modern Housewife or, MénagèreChapter XVI: Part 16

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