Chapter II: Part 2

36. _Sautéd Sausages._--If your fire smokes, it is preferable to sauté them; put some butter in the pan, with four sausages; after you have pricked them as before-mentioned, sauté gently, a few minutes will do them, turn them often; in many instances a thin slice of bread sautéd in the fat they have produced is a great improvement; save the fat, as it is always useful in a kitchen. In case you are in a hurry to do them, throw them into hot water for one minute previously to their being broiled or sautéd; they will then be the sooner cooked, and even eat rather more relishing to a delicate stomach, having extracted the oil from the skin; they may also be fried in the frying-pan.

37. _Black Puddings, broiled._--Make about six or eight incisions through the skin with a knife, in a slanting way, on each side of the pudding; put it on the gridiron for about eight minutes, on rather a brisk fire, turn it four times in that space of time, and serve it broiling hot.

I should recommend those who are fond of black puddings to partake of no other beverage than tea or coffee, as cocoa or chocolate would be a clog to the stomach. In France they partake of white wine for breakfast, which accounts for the great consumption of black pudding. Now really this is a very favorite dish with epicures, but I never should recommend it to a delicate stomach.

ON COFFEE.--Coffee, which has now come so generally into use,
originally came from Arabia, where it has been known from time
immemorial, but was brought into use in England in the year 1653;
as it is not generally known how it was introduced, I will give you
the account of it from "Houghton's Collection," 1698. "It appears
that a Mr. Daniel Edwards, an English Merchant of Smyrna, brought
with him to this country a Greek of the name of Pasqua, in 1652,
who made his coffee; this Mr. Edwards married one Alderman Hodges's
daughter, who lived in Walbrook, and set up Pasqua for a coffee-man
in a shed in the churchyard in St. Michael, Cornhill, which is now
a scrivener's brave-house, when, having great custom, the
ale-sellers petitioned the Lord Mayor against him, as being no
freeman. This made Alderman Hodges join his coachman, Bowman, who
was free, as Pasqua's partner; but Pasqua, for some misdemeanor,
was forced to run the country, and Bowman, by his trade and a
contribution of 1000 sixpences, turned the shed to a house.
Bowman's apprentices were first, John Painter, then Humphrey, from
whose wife I had this account." Having examined the renter
churchwarden's book of St. Michael, Cornhill, I find that the house
or shed Bowman built is now part of the Jamaica Coffee-House; it
was rebuilt by Bowman, after the fire, in 1667.

It is a very remarkable fact that but few persons in England know
how to make good coffee, although so well supplied with the first
quality of that delicious berry; but, by way of contrast, I must
say that the middle classes of France are quite as ignorant of the
method of making tea.

I remember, upon one occasion, whilst staying at Havre with Mr. B.,
where we were upon a visit at the house of one of his agents, who
invited a few of his friends to meet us at a tea-party _à
l'Anglaise_, as they used to call it, about an hour previous to
tea, and previous to the arrival of the guests, I was walking upon
the lawn before the house, when my attention was attracted by a
cloud of steam issuing from the kitchen-window, smelling most
powerfully of tea: my curiosity led me to the kitchen, where I
found the cook busily engaged making cocoa and most delicious
coffee, but preparing the tea in a ridiculous fashion, the leaves
of which were in an awful state of agitation, attempting as it were
to escape from an earthen pot at the side of the fire, in which the
delicious soup we had for dinner was made a few hours previously.
(_See_ Pot-au-Feu.)

"My dear girl," said I (in French), "what process do you call that
of making tea? it never ought to be boiled."

"I beg your pardon, Madame," says she, "master and mistress like it
well done, and it will be another short half-hour before it is
properly cooked (ce sera alors copieux)."

"You are decidedly wrong," said I, "and I shall be most happy to
show you the way we make it in England."

"Yes, I know what you mean, Madame," replied she; "I used to make
it that way before, but no one liked it, that is, to boil it one
hour in a copper-pan over a charcoal fire." Upon which I retired,
making a most comical grimace, to refrain from laughing at her
still more ridiculous fashion.

You must, however, observe that this occurred nearly twelve years
ago, and I have no doubt but a reform has taken place since then
by the continual traffic of the English through that part of the
country. I must say, with respect to ourselves, we do not make
quite such a blunder respecting coffee, but still our middle
classes very seldom enjoy the aroma of that delicious beverage,
which should be made as follows:

Choose the coffee of a very nice brown color, but not black (which
would denote that it was burnt, and impart a bitter flavor); grind
it at home if possible, as you may then depend upon the quality; if
ground in any quantity, keep it in a jar hermetically sealed. To
make a pint, put two ounces into a stewpan, or small iron or tin
saucepan, which set dry upon a moderate fire, stirring the coffee
round with a wooden spoon continually until it is quite hot
through, but not in the least burnt; should the fire be very
fierce, warm it by degrees, taking it off every now and then until
hot (which would not be more than two minutes), when pour over a
pint of boiling water, cover close, and let it stand by the side of
the fire (but not to boil) for five minutes, when strain it through
a cloth or a piece of thick gauze, rinse out the stewpan, pour the
coffee (which will be quite clear) back into it, place it upon the
fire, and, when nearly boiling, serve with hot milk if for
breakfast, but with a drop of cold milk or cream if for dinner.

To prove the simplicity of this mode of making coffee, I shall here
give a repetition of the receipt as it actually is:

38. Put two ounces of ground coffee into a stewpan, which set upon the fire, stirring the powder round with a spoon until quite hot, when pour over a pint of boiling water; cover over closely for five minutes, when pass it through a cloth, warm again, and serve.[1]

The foregoing proportions would make coffee good enough for any
person, but more or less coffee could be used, if required; the
cloth through which it is passed should be immediately washed and
put by for the next occasion. A hundred cups of coffee could be
made as here directed in half an hour, by procuring a pan
sufficiently large, and using the proper proportions of coffee and
water, passing it afterwards through a large cloth or jelly-bag.

39. _Coffee, French fashion._--To a pint of coffee, made as before directed, add a pint of boiling milk, warm both together until nearly boiling, and serve. The French never use it any other way for breakfast.

40. _White Coffee, a new style._--Put two ounces of unground coffee, slightly roasted, into a clean stewpan, which set upon a moderate fire, slowly warming the coffee through, shaking the stewpan round every half-minute; when very hot, which you will perceive by the smoke arising from it, pour over half a pint of boiling water, cover the stewpan well, and let it infuse by the side of the fire for fifteen minutes, then add half a pint of boiling-hot milk, pass the coffee through a small fine sieve into the coffee-pot or jug, and serve with white sugar-candy or crystallized sugar; it is, as you will perceive, a great novelty, and an agreeable change; but if by neglect you let the coffee get black, or the least burnt, do not attempt to make use of it; it should only be sufficiently charred to break easily in a mortar if required.

41. _Coffee, made with a filter._--To make a quart; first put a pint of boiling water through the filter to warm it, which again pour away, then put a quarter of a pound of ground coffee upon the filter, upon which put the presser lightly, and the grating, pour over half a pint of boiling water, let it drain three or four minutes, then pour over a pint and a half more boiling water; when well passed through, pour it into a clean stewpan, which set at the corner of the fire until a light scum arises, but not boiling; pour it again through the filter, and when well drained through, pour into the coffee-pot, and serve with hot milk, or a little cream, separately.

42. _Another way, more economical._--Proceed as in the last, but draining the coffee through once only, and serve, after which pour another quart of boiling water over the coffee-grounds, which, when drained through, reserve, and boil up for the next coffee you make, using it instead of water, and an ounce less coffee.

TEA is, without doubt, one of the most useful herbs ever introduced
into England, which was in the year of the fire of London, 1666: it
has replaced an unwholesome and heavy drink (ale) which used to be
partaken of previously, and has created habits of sobriety. It is
indigenous to China, Japan, and Siam, and consists of many
varieties, the proper mixing of which constitutes the great art of
a tea-dealer. It is exceedingly useful in many cases of sickness,
and particularly after having partaken of any liquor to excess, or
after extraordinary fatigue. When new, it is a narcotic; but when
old it has a different effect,[2] and in its native country is
never partaken of until a year old, and not then, unless
exceedingly desiccated. I cannot recommend you any one in
particular, as that depends on taste; but this I advise, that when
you have a kind to your liking, to keep to it.

And now, my dear friend, without wishing in the least to offend
you, or attempting to aggravate your good nature, I must beg to
contradict your assertion made at the commencement of our
undertaking, where you say, respecting tea, of course I know how to
make it; you made it whilst staying at our house occasionally, and
Mr. B. found there was a great difference between it and mine. But
to tell you the truth respecting tea, I have a little secret of my
own, being a discovery which I made a short time ago by accident.
Whilst in the act of making tea, I had just put the dry tea in the
pot, when I heard a fearful scream up-stairs in the drawing-room;
rushing there, I found my little girl had had a severe fall in
reaching something from the chimney-piece, the stool upon which she
stood having upset: twenty minutes at least had elapsed before I
returned to my tea (which, being alone, I was in no particular
hurry for), when I found that the servant, thinking there was water
in the pot, and fearing the tea would be spoiled, put it into the
oven, which was rather hot; when she brought it to me, I was rather
annoyed, when all at once it struck me that the leaves being hot
through, the tea would not require so long to draw; I then filled
the teapot with boiling water, and in a minute afterwards had a
most delicious cup of tea, since which I have adopted the system
upon all occasions, and am now having made a small spirit-lamp to
warm the pot and leaves, as the oven is not always hot: it may,
however, be made hot in front of the fire, but not too close of
course. I gave the receipt to one of our neighbors, who actually
laughed at the idea, but never tried it, saying, "We cannot teach
anything to our grandmothers, and that what did for them would do
for us." Now what could you say to such people? why nothing, but
let them alone, as I shall do for the future. But you, my dear, I
know have better sense; proceed as I have directed, and you will
find it a great improvement. Put your tea in the pot a quarter of
an hour before ready for it, warming both tea and pot, fill with
boiling water, and leave it from three to five minutes to draw,
when it is quite ready.

CACAO was first known in Europe after the discovery of America, and
it retains its Indian name; of course, it was first used in Spain,
and did not come into use in England until much later; and we find
that there was imported into England, in the year 1694, about
13,000 lbs. weight of it; at the present day there was, in 1848,
410,000 lbs. It is a long fruit, about five to eight inches, and
three or four thick, which contains about thirty nuts: the tree
grows to only a few feet in height.

In the course of my experiments, I have found that the shell is
almost as nutritious as the kernel, with less oily particles in it,
which, to many, are unpleasant.

43. _Chocolate._--Scrape two ounces of the cake, which put into a stew or saucepan, with a gill of water, upon the fire, keeping it stirred with a wooden spoon until rather thick, when work it quickly with the spoon, stirring in half a pint of boiling milk by degrees; serve very hot, with sugar separate.

44. _Chocolate made in the Italian method._--Procure a regular chocolate-pot with a muller, the handle of which comes through the lid, one might be procured at any brazier's, put in two ounces of chocolate (scraped), over which by degrees pour a pint of boiling milk, put on the lid, with the muller inside, which keep well moving, setting the pot upon the fire, and when very hot and frothy, serve.

45. _Cocoa._--Put a teaspoonful and a half of canistered cocoa into a cup, which fill by degrees with boiling milk, stir it until dissolved, when it is ready to serve; sugar separately.

LETTER No. III

Oatlands Cottage, Jan. 20, 1849.

DEAR HORTENSE,--I have inclosed the whole of the receipts which you
have sent me for the breakfasts, properly classified, having
omitted the cold meats (as you desired me) from this series,
thinking, as you do, they are more suited for the luncheon. To save
useless repetition, I have placed the receipts in numbers, by which
references can be easily made, and any dish appearing in the dinner
or luncheon series, but available for breakfast, can be directly
found.

But one thing I remember when at your house was, that when the
remains of a joint were rather large, you used to put it upon a
side table, and let any one help themselves from it there; your
idea being, I believe, that very few persons liked to have a large
dish of meat before their eyes almost immediately after rising from
their beds, or at the first meal of the morning. Respecting the way
your table was laid out, to the best of my recollection, it was as
follows:--First the large table-cloth, over which was laid a small
napkin before each person, with cups and saucers for tea or coffee,
at choice, small plates for rolls, and a size larger for meat,
sausages, eggs, &c., a small knife and fork for each; the butter in
a pretty freezing butter-glass, just covered with clear spring
water, and garnished with a few sprigs of parsley or watercresses;
the cream in a small china cream-jug, and a larger jug containing
hot milk for coffee; orange marmalade in its original pot,
honeycomb, watercresses, and once a few nice young radishes, which
were excellent, although a little out of season; one day also dry
toast was served, another day buttered, the next muffins, then
crumpets, white and brown bread, and small rolls, thus making a
continual change, but all so small and inviting. I shall always,
when I have company, as you had then, arrange everything in the
same manner, especially now that I have your receipts down. But
when you are alone, you tell me, you never make any such display,
which of course would be ridiculous; still even then you vary, by
having either tea, coffee, or chocolate, which change I like as
well as you. I eat meat but occasionally, but Mr. L---- generally
likes a little broiled bacon, or boiled egg, things in themselves
very simple and pleasant to have upon the table. Yours, in haste,

ELOISE.

EARLY LUNCHEONS.

LETTER

LETTER No. IV.

MY DEAR FRIEND,--I feel perfectly satisfied with the manner in
which you have classified my receipts respecting the breakfasts,
and must say I felt very much interested in looking over them; I am
confident they would prove interesting and instructive to any young
housekeeper; I hope, therefore, you will preserve the originals, as
I do not keep any copies, fearing they would confuse me by making
reference to them; so that, if at any future time I should make a
repetition in other series, you would be able to correct me, for I
am as willing as yourself that we should complete our work by going
through every series comprising meals of the day.

The next meal, then, to breakfast, in the ordinary course of
events, is the luncheon. Although it is a meal we never touch
ourselves, I am aware many small families make it a regular one, so
our little journal would not be complete without some few remarks,
which I intend making as short and concise as possible. When we
were in business, our luncheons were comprised of any cold meats
which were cooked for previous dinners; if a joint of cold roast or
boiled meat, it requires to be nicely trimmed before making its
appearance at table, but reserving the trimmings for hash, if of
roast meat, or bubble-and-squeak, if salt beef, which is an
excellent method of disposing of the remainder of a joint to
advantage; if the joint happened to be cold veal, I used to send
for a plate of ham to serve with it, unless there was a piece of
bacon also left; if mutton, I used to dish up the leg with a pretty
little paper frill upon the knuckle, also trimming the joint
lightly, for you must be aware that, after four or five have dined
from a leg of mutton, its appearance becomes quite spoiled, and
looks blackish when cold. Pork I also serve the same; when parsley
was cheap, I always laid a few branches round it, which used, as my
visitors said, to make the meat look very refreshing and inviting.
Our only addition was sometimes the remainder of game, which at
that time used frequently to be presented to us--pheasants,
partridges, or grouse; as it would then have been very extravagant
to have purchased them, especially when they were so expensive. As
an accompaniment to the meat, I always kept two different sorts of
mixed pickles, good bread, butter, cheese, and a glass of excellent
table ale; or, if our guest was some bosom friend or good customer,
a bottle of sherry (not decantered), never any port, thinking that
more fit for the dinner-table. Such was my plan in the first five
years after my marriage: everything upon our table was of the first
quality, and every one used to admire the neatness with which the
table was laid out.

My method now, when luncheon is required (as we do not dine until
half-past five o'clock, Mr. B. being engaged until four in the
city), I have the cloth laid at twelve, and lunch at half-past; and
that time being just after the nursery dinner, we generally have
some sort of pudding or tart, made at the same time with theirs.
For cold meat, I always serve that up which has been left from a
previous dinner, if any, or any remains of poultry, game, ham, or
tongue. When, however, we have six or eight friends from the
country at Christmas, I feel proud to show them my style of doing
things well and economically, for they are very intelligent people,
and can appreciate good living, though at home they really live too
plain for their incomes; but they say, "We do not understand how it
is that you make a nice little dish almost out of nothing." For
should I have the remnants of any poultry or game not very inviting
to the sight, I generally cut it up and show my cook how to hash it
in a variety of ways; and I always remark, that they never partake
of any cold meat whilst any of the hash remains. For the methods of
making various hashes of fowl, game, hare, rabbit, beef, mutton, as
also curries, minced veal and poached eggs, cold pies of game,
poultry, mutton, beefsteak, or pigeon, as also plain mutton
cutlets, steaks, and broiled bones, the whole of which may be
served for luncheon, I must refer you to the series of receipts
belonging to the dinner; any of these articles are placed in order
upon the table, with the pickle-stand, two different cruet-sauces,
orange marmalade, potatoes, butter, cheese, sherry and port wines.
This style of luncheon will no doubt surprise you, but I can assure
you it scarcely increases my expenditure, having the same number to
provide for daily, so that the luncheon is generally made up from
the remains of dinner, and the remains of luncheon will dine our
three servants at half-past one. In the summer, I introduce a few
dishes of fruit, and less meat; and when there are several ladies,
I often introduce some English-made wine, which once I used to make
myself, but which I can now buy cheaper.

THE NURSERY DINNER.

LETTER No. V

DEAR FRIEND,--Now here I must call your especial attention to the
way many people treat this department of domestic comfort, which is
often very slight and irregular. Now, for my part, I have made
quite a study of it, and could prove that health is always
dependent on the state of the digestive organs; and that, if you
should improperly treat young stomachs, by over or under supplying
their wants, or using them to ill-cooked food, you not only destroy
the functionary coating of the stomach, but also impede the
development of the intellect. It is, then, as much a science to
manage the food of children, as to cater for the palate of the
gourmet, and I shall always consider that good food is to the body
what education is to the mind.

My plan of managing the nursery meals is as follows:--At eight
o'clock in the morning, which was my usual time, I used myself to
prepare that glutinous food upon which our ancestors and race were
first reared, rather unclassically denominated pap. My method was
very simple:

46.--Put two ounces of rusk, or tops and bottoms, in a small saucepan, with just sufficient water to moisten them; set the saucepan upon the fire until its contents are thoroughly warmed through; pour a little of the water away, if too thin, pressing the rusk with a spoon; then add a teaspoonful of brown sugar, and beat the whole with a spoon until quite a pulp; it is then ready for use.

I have seen some poor people in the country make it with a stale
piece of bread, previously well dried and lightly toasted before
the fire, and you could scarcely tell the difference from rusks;
and you must observe, that people in a country village cannot
always supply themselves with everything in the way of luxury; but
look at the greater part of those country urchins,--are they not a
real picture of health? for, after all, nothing is more
advantageous to a delicate child than country air and country food.
When Mr. B. and myself were staying at Boulogne for a few weeks, I
was astonished to hear that everybody used to put their children
out to nurse. I was so surprised, that I made every inquiry, and
found it literally true, that even respectable tradespeople sent
their children a mile or two in the country, some to the houses of
very poor people: I cannot say that I approve of such a style of
bringing up infants, but even there they seem as healthy and as
joyful as possible. I also found there something to be learned, and
that was, how to make French pap, which I think very nutritious,
but which I considered at the time rather heavy for our climate;
but having afterwards made a trial of it upon our little Henry, I
found him doing so extremely well, that I continued feeding him
upon it for nearly eight months, until he was old enough to eat
other food. The following is the receipt:

47.--Put a tablespoonful of flour into a pap saucepan, to which add by degrees two gills of milk, mixing it into a very smooth batter with a wooden spoon; place the saucepan upon the fire, let it boil ten minutes, keeping it stirred the whole time, or it is liable to burn or become brown, then add about half an ounce of sugar and a little salt, put it into a basin, and it is ready for use. A little butter is also very good in it.

You will observe, that it is more difficult and troublesome to make
than our pap; but when used to it, you will expend no more time
over it; and, as the French people say, cooking is all pleasure and
no trouble. But what convinces me that it is more palatable and
nutritious is, that I have seen a very robust man make a hearty
dinner of two plates of it by introducing bread in it. I have no
doubt that our own hasty pudding was taken from it, for the use of
children of three or four years old, being thought too heavy for
infants. These long details may appear rather insignificant and
tedious to you, but I leave them to your good judgment, begging of
you to curtail my remarks should you think proper; but, although
you may consider that every person is acquainted with these
domestic habits, you would find upon inquiry that very many persons
neglect them almost entirely. Having written thus much upon the
food of infants, we must next consider the proper diet for children
of twelve months old, commencing with bread and milk.

48.--For which, cut about two ounces of any white bread into small thin slices, which put into a small basin or a large breakfast cup, in a little saucepan (only used for that purpose) have half a pint of milk, which, when upon the point of boiling, pour over the bread; cover the cup over five minutes, and it is ready for use.

I much prefer this method to that of boiling the bread and milk
together. In first commencing to feed a child upon the above, I
always added a little sugar, which I withdrew by degrees, as I do
not like to accustom children to too much sweets, as it inclines
them when a little older to be always wanting or eating sweet
stuff, which often spoils the best set of teeth; and here let me
remark, that the finest fortune you can give to your children is
health, and as loving mothers, whilst we have them under our
control, it is our duty to study their little comforts, and direct
their first steps in life in the road of happiness.

49. _Porridge._--When children are delicate, porridge is often preferable to bread and milk. Put two tablespoonfuls of Scotch grits or oatmeal in the milk saucepan, which moisten with half a pint of milk; let it boil ten minutes, keeping well stirred, add a small piece of butter and a little sugar, and it is ready for use.

When my children were about eighteen months or two years old, I
used to give them a little tender meat, such as boiled mutton, and
broth, but in very small quantities, keeping still for the general
food the bread and milk and porridge; but now they are old enough
to eat anything wholesome (one being nine and the other ten years
of age), their meals are composed thus:

50.--Bread and milk for breakfast at eight; the dinner at one, which was composed as follows throughout the week: roast mutton and apple pudding, roast beef and currant pudding, baked apples; boiled mutton with turnips, after which rice or vermicelli pudding; occasionally a little salt beef, with suet dumplings, plain and with currants in them, or pease pudding; or if unwell, a little veal or chicken-broth, or beef-tea (the receipts for which will be found in the series entitled Comforts for Invalids).

When in business, the first three years we could not afford to keep
a nursery, in fact, we had no room to spare; the children then used
to dine with us at one, but at a side-table with their nurse.

51.--They then had a little plain meat, cut small in their plates, with potatoes, pieces of bread, and gravy, after which, three times a week, plain rice, bread, or other plain pudding, or rhubarb or apple tart; and, at five o'clock, their bread and milk again, previous to going to bed.

But if for people who could afford it, I should recommend the
following diet-table, for nurserymaid and all:

52.--First, about two pounds of mutton well-cooked, but with the real gravy of the meat in it, which will require about one hour before a moderate fire, dredge it ten minutes before being done; when taken up and in the dish, sprinkle a little salt over the meat, and pour over three or four spoonfuls of hot water to make a little light gravy.

Many persons will, I am aware, quite disapprove of this system of
washing the meat: they would serve it as if it were for full-grown
people, but you well know what would do for children as well as
I--plain, simple, and wholesome food; I always carried out this
system, and I now make my cook do the same.

53.--Then the next day I would give them a small piece of mutton, plain boiled, with turnips, and apple tart; or a few slices of roast beef, or a small piece roasted on purpose, after which a very plain currant pudding; or, occasionally, a little pickled pork, with pease pudding, or roast pork, with baked apples, and now and then a little salt beef, but very well boiled, with suet dumplings, and occasionally, for change, either bread, vermicelli, or tapioca puddings; in case of illness, and with the approbation of the doctor, veal, mutton, or chicken-broth, sago, gruel, panada, &c., for which refer to the receipts for invalids.

Now the more I write the more I am convinced that, for the method
of preparing certain articles for the children's dinners, we must
refer to the kitchen department of receipts and receipts for
invalids, especially as regards broth, meat, puddings, &c., or
otherwise we should have so many repetitions; so that it would be
better, upon the completion of the journal, to make references,
either by numbers of receipt or page; it will be more intelligible,
and less confused.

Many people would, perhaps, imagine that there is too much variety
of food for children; but it is quite the contrary, for change of
food is to the stomach what change of air is to the general health,
but, of course, with children, those changes must be effected with
judgment, and their food administered in smaller quantities; but
you must observe when children are well brought up with regard to
their meals, they possess extraordinary organs of digestion, the
proof of which is that they require feeding oftener than a
full-grown person, and never appear to be tired of eating, thus, of
course, they do not require such quantities at a time. Having here
terminated my remarks upon the Nursery, I shall leave this scene of
romp and confusion, to walk on tip-toe to the sick-room door, and
carefully enter, without noise, into this mournful abode of human
suffering and captivity, in hopes that, by watching over their
diet, my small efforts may improve their comforts, which, by being
properly managed, may assist in their restoration to health. I
shall, therefore, proceed to give some receipts, entitled Comforts
for Invalids.

Nothing is to me more painful than to see any food ill-prepared for
sick people, where the sense of taste is partially gone; everything
ordered by the doctors as food, should be cooked in the greatest
perfection, especially as everything they require is so very simple
and easily done, that it is unpardonable to do it badly, although I
am sorry to say that it is too often the case, even in many of our
first hospitals and other public establishments, where they have
provisions in abundance, and of the first quality.

Perhaps you may fancy I am too severe upon that delicate subject,
but I can assure you that I have for years been in the habit of
visiting some of these institutions for the sick, and can therefore
speak with confidence. I have grieved often to see it, and have
wished that they would follow a system I would lay down, but there
are some people who would not change their style, however bad, for
a better one, for the world.

Now I must here claim all your intelligence, for pointing out those
receipts the accomplishing of which is most plain, and will insure
success to those who may try to do them, and cause them to persuade
others to follow their example. I therefore inclose the following.
Yours, &c.

HORTENSE.

COMFORTS FOR INVALIDS.

54. _Meat for Invalids._--The best meat as food for invalids is, in fact, that which is principally used, mutton and beef, lamb, if not too young (sweetbreads, I consider, ought oftener to be introduced), and calves' feet or head, scalded and boiled until tender, are very nutritious; chickens, pigeons, partridges, are also very inviting. All the above-mentioned articles are easy of digestion, excepting perhaps the beef, which may require to be gently stewed until tender, if for a delicate stomach just ordered to take meat after a serious fit of illness.

55. _Plain Mutton Broth for Invalids._--Get one pound of scrag of mutton, break the bone with a chopper, without separating the meat, then put it into a stewpan with three pints of water and a salt-spoonful of salt; boil gently two hours, carefully removing all the scum and fat, which is easily done by allowing it to simmer slowly by the side of the fire; it will be by that time reduced to about one quart, and is then ready to serve. This broth must not be expected to drink very palatable, being deprived of vegetables and seasoning, being in fact more like a beverage than a soup: at the commencement of convalescence more strength may be given if ordered by the doctor, by reducing the original quantity to one pint. This broth is often administered by a spoonful only at a time.

56. _Seasoned Mutton Broth._--Put the same quantity of mutton and water into your stewpan, add double the quantity of salt, and a quarter ditto brown sugar, quarter of a middle-sized onion, very little celery, and one ounce of turnip; set it upon the fire, and when beginning to boil draw it to the side; let it simmer gently two hours; skim off all the scum and fat, and pass it through a sieve, and use it when required. When finished, there ought to remain about a quart of broth; but if by neglect it has boiled too fast, add more water, and set to boil for a quarter of an hour longer. If the patient is getting better, his medical man will probably order him to eat a little of the meat, or even turnips, in which case serve them on a plate separately; should the meat not be required by the patient, it is very excellent for a healthy person, with a few spoonfuls of onions or caper sauce, or even plain. If pearl-barley is required to be taken with the broth, put a tablespoonful of it in with the water when you first put it upon the fire, the whole will then be done together; if the barley is to be eaten by the patient, take out the meat and vegetables, and skim off every spot of grease; but if the barley is not required, pass the broth, as before, through a sieve.

57. _Mutton Broth (with variations). With Vermicelli._--Having made your broth, and passed it through a sieve, as before, put the meat and vegetables upon a plate, and the broth back into the same stewpan; when boiling, if about a quart, add one or two tablespoonfuls of vermicelli, depending upon the strength of the patient's stomach; ten minutes' boiling will be sufficient to cook vermicelli.

58. _With Rice._--One spoonful of best rice in the stewpan, with mutton and water the same as the barley, as it is better for the rice to be in pulp than underdone.

59. _With Semoulina._--Semoulina is very delicate and glutinous, and I am quite confident that the faculty would approve of it after a trial or two; it is good in any kind of broth or milk for invalids, of very easy digestion, and having also the advantage of being tolerably cheap and quickly cooked; proceed as directed for vermicelli.

60. _With Arrow-root._--After having passed your broth, place it again into the stewpan to boil; when boiling, put two teaspoonfuls of arrow-root into a cup, which mix smoothly with a gill of cold broth, or half ditto of water; then pour it into your boiling broth, which keep stirring with a spoon; let it simmer ten minutes, and it is ready for use.

61. _Veal Broth (French method)._--The following is much recommended by French physicians:--Put one pound of veal from knuckle, with but very little of the bone, into a stewpan with three pints of water and a salt-spoonful of salt, place it over the fire to boil; when boiling, take off all the scum; then add a small cabbage-lettuce and a few sprigs of chervil, if handy; let simmer slowly for two hours, it will then be reduced to about a quart; pass it through a sieve, letting the meat drain, and it is ready to serve.

62. _Another way, more palatable._--Take the same quantity of veal as before, which cut into small dice (as you should cut all meat if possible), put it into the stewpan, with a small pat of butter, half an onion, about the same quantity of carrot and turnip, a little celery, and a teaspoonful of salt; set the stewpan upon the fire, keeping the contents stirred, for about ten minutes, until the bottom of the stewpan is covered with a whitish glaze, then add three pints of hot water; let the whole simmer one hour at the corner of the fire, skim well, pass it through a sieve, and use when required. This broth is most palatable and very digestible, but of course only to be given to the convalescent; it may be served with vermicelli, rice, arrow-root, and semoulina, as directed for mutton broth.

63. _Another very Refreshing and Strengthening Veal Broth._--Put two pounds of knuckle of veal into a stewpan, with a calf's foot split, and the bone taken out and chopped up, add three quarts of water, a good-sized onion, one leek, a piece of parsnip, and two salt-spoonfuls of salt (if allowed by the doctor, if not, the salt must be omitted), set it upon the fire, and when beginning to boil, skim, and let it simmer at the corner of the fire four hours; twenty minutes before passing, again skim off all the fat, and add ten large leaves of sorrel, or twenty small, one cabbage-lettuce, and a handful of chervil, and when done pass it through a sieve, when it is ready for use. This broth is very cooling and nutritious when taken cold, as it is then quite a jelly; vermicelli, rice, &c., may be added when served hot, and the veal and calf's foot is very excellent, eaten with parsley-and-butter or sharp sauce; but should the patient require any, it must be quite plain, with a little of the broth and only the gelatinous part of the foot.

The above also makes an excellent dinner soup, and if put in a cool place, would keep a week in winter and three days in summer.

64. _Soyer's new way of making Beef Tea._--Cut a pound of solid beef into very small dice, which put into a stewpan, with a small pat of butter, a clove, two button onions, and a salt-spoonful of salt, stir the meat round over the fire for a few minutes, until it produces a thin gravy, then add a quart of water, and let it simmer at the corner of the fire for half an hour, skimming off every particle of fat, when done pass through a sieve. I have always had a great objection to passing broth through a cloth, as it frequently quite spoils its flavor.

The same, if wanted plain, is done by merely omitting the vegetables, salt, and clove; the butter cannot be objectionable, as it is taken out in skimming, pearl-barley, vermicelli, rice, &c., may be served in it if required.

65. _Real Essence of Beef._--Take one pound of solid beef from the rump, a steak would be the best, cut it into thin slices, which lay upon a thin trencher, and scrape quite fine with a large and sharp knife (as quickly as possible, or the juice of the meat would partially soak into the wood, your meat thus losing much of its strengthening quality), when like sausage-meat put it into a stewpan or saucepan, and stir over the fire five or ten minutes, until thoroughly warmed through, then add a pint of water, cover the stewpan as tightly as possible, and let it remain close to the fire or in a warm oven for twenty minutes, then pass it through a sieve, pressing the meat with a spoon to extract all the essence.

I beg to observe that here you have the real juice of the meat; but if wanted stronger, put only half instead of one pint of water; seasoning may be introduced, that is, a little salt, sugar, and cloves, but no vegetables, as they would not have time to cook, thus leaving a raw, bad flavor.

66. _Pure Osmazome, or Essence of Meat._--Take two pounds of the flesh of any animal or bird (the older the better for obtaining the true flavor), as free from sinew as possible, and mince it well; place it in a Florence oil-flask, and cork it; put this in a saucepan filled with cold water, leaving the neck uncovered; place it on the side of the fire until the water arrives at 160° Fahr., at which temperature it must remain for twenty minutes; then remove it, and strain the contents through a tammie, pressing the meat gently with a spoon; should it require to be kept for some time, put the liquor in a basin or cup, which place in the saucepan; subject it to a boiling heat until it is reduced to a consistency like treacle, removing the scum; this, when cold, will become solid, and will keep for any number of years. Osmazome is known under various names in different cookery books, as "fumet, essence," &c., but which are obtained in a different way, which causes the gelatine to be produced with the osmazome; but, by the above plan, it is left in the meat, and the osmazome, with a small quantity of the albumen, is extracted, and the albumen is afterwards removed as the scum.

67. _Chicken Broth._--Put half a raw chicken into a stewpan, with a quart of water, a little leek and celery, with a salt-spoonful of salt, and a few sprigs of parsley (if allowed), set the stewpan upon the fire; when boiling, skim well, and let simmer upon the corner for one hour; pass it through a sieve, and it is ready for use.

The chicken would eat very nice with a little maître d'hôtel sauce, or any other from that series would do for the parlor, that is, when the patient is not allowed to eat it.

For a change, chicken-broth in the following way is very nutritious; that is, after having passed the broth through a sieve, pour it back again into the stewpan, which place over the fire; moisten a teaspoonful of flour in a cup with a little cold broth or water, and when quite smooth pour it into the broth whilst boiling, stirring quickly, let simmer a quarter of an hour, and it is ready. Mutton or veal-broth may also be varied the same.

68. _Eel Broth, very strengthening._--Take a small eel, which skin as described, and wash well, then cut into slices, which put into a small saucepan, just covered with water, add a little salt, a few sprigs of parsley, two button onions, and a clove; let it simmer very gently until the eels are tender, when skim off all the fat, pass the broth through a very fine sieve into a cup: it is then ready to serve when required, but a spoonful only should be taken at a time.

A patient is sometimes allowed to take part of the fish, which being so much boiled, constitutes a lighter food than eels are in general; a little melted butter and parsley might be served with them.

69. _Lait de Poule, French remedy for colds._--May be made from any of the foregoing broths, and for colds is excellent. Break a fresh egg, separate the white from the yolk, put the yolk in a basin, with a quarter of a gill of good cream or milk, which mix well with a spoon, have half a pint of broth boiling, which pour gradually over the egg and cream, mixing it (as you pour the broth) with a wooden spoon; it is then ready, and ought to be taken when going to bed, if only for a cold.

70. _Sweet Lait de Poule._--This is also reckoned very good for a cold. Put two yolks of eggs into a cup, with two teaspoonfuls of pounded sugar, a few drops of orange-flower water, or the eighth part of the rind of a fresh lemon grated, beat them well together for ten minutes, then pour boiling water gradually over, keeping it stirred, until the cup is nearly full. Drink this very hot when in bed; I can strongly recommend it from experience.

71. _Riz au Lait, or Rice Milk_, is a very favorite food, or soup; in France many persons make their suppers from it, even when in a state of perfect health. Proceed as follows: wash a tablespoonful of good rice in water, which drain and put into a stewpan, with a pint of milk, upon the fire, and when boiling, place it at the corner to simmer, until the rice is quite tender, but for invalids, must be in a pulp; sweeten with a little sugar, and it is quite ready.

72. _Rice Milk seasoned._--Proceed exactly as in the last, but when the rice is quite tender add an ounce of butter, two teaspoonfuls of sugar, and a little salt, stir well together, and it is then ready; this must neither be too thick nor too thin, but about the thickness of well-made gruel; in France they always add a few drops of orange-flower water, but that depends upon taste. These two last are very nutritious, especially after a long illness.

73. _Vermicelli au Lait._--Boil a pint of milk, and when boiling add sufficient vermicelli to make it about the thickness of the last article; it may be served quite plain if required, or seasoned as for the riz au lait, but omitting the orange-flower water.

74. _Semoulina au Lait._--Boil a pint of milk, and when boiling add a tablespoonful of semoulina, stirring it gently, to prevent its becoming lumpy; let it simmer twenty minutes, and serve either plain or seasoned, as for the riz au lait.

75. _Tapioca au Lait._--Proceed exactly as in the last, but it will require rather longer to simmer before the tapioca is tender; and, by way of change, add a little grated lemon-peel, or a glass of white wine, if allowed by the doctor, or season as for the last.

76. _Arrow-root._--Put two teaspoonfuls of arrow-root, which mix gradually with enough water or milk, stirring it with a spoon, let it boil a few minutes, and if made with milk, add only a little butter, sugar, and salt, or serve plain; but if made with water, add the eighth part of the rind of a fresh lemon to boil with it; when done add a glass of port or sherry, sugar, a little salt, and a small piece of butter, unless prohibited.

77. _Gruel._--Put two tablespoonfuls of oatmeal or prepared groats into a stewpan, and by degrees add a pint of water, mixing smoothly with a wooden spoon, place it upon the fire, keeping it well stirred, until it has boiled a couple of minutes, when pour it into a basin, add half a salt-spoonful of salt, two teaspoonfuls of brown sugar, and two ounces of butter, the latter especially, if for a cold in the chest, even more than that quantity, if the stomach is strong enough to bear it.

Gruel when properly made ought to adhere rather thickly to the back of the spoon, but not to be pasty; it ought, likewise, to be eaten directly it is made, or it becomes thick and unpleasant to eat; if required plain, omit all the seasoning; it might also be made of milk.

78. _Gruel from Scotch Groats._--Proceed as above, but adding rather more water, and boiling a few minutes longer; many people prefer eating it with the rough groats in it, but if objectionable, place a small clean sieve over the basin you intend serving it in, pass the gruel through, and season as in the last. Some people add spirits or wine; but that I should never recommend any one to do, unless by the doctor's orders, and that would be but very seldom, especially as regards spirits.

79. _Sago Gruel._--Put two tablespoonfuls of sago into a small saucepan, which moisten gradually with a pint of cold water, set it over a slow fire, keeping it stirred until becoming rather thickish and clear, similar to a jelly, then add a little grated nutmeg and sugar according to taste, and serve; half a pat of butter might also be added with the sugar, or it might be made with new milk, and a little salt added, and a glass of wine in either case makes it more palatable.

80. _Arrow-root, Transparent Jelly._--Put a good teaspoonful of arrow-root into a basin, which mix smoothly with two spoonfuls of water, then add enough boiling water to make it about the consistency of starch, stirring all the time, pour it into a stewpan, and stir over the fire until it has boiled two minutes; add a little cream, a small glass of wine, and a little sugar, and serve.

81. _French Panada, for aged people, invalids, and children._--Break a stale penny roll into a saucepan, in which pour just sufficient water to cover the bread, stir well over the fire, allowing it to boil five minutes, then add half a teaspoonful of salt, and two ounces of fresh butter, mix them, and take from the fire; have one yolk of egg well beaten, with two tablespoonfuls of milk (if handy) or water, which pour into the panada, stirring very quickly for half a minute, it is then ready to pour into a basin and serve. Any common bread would do for panada, but would not eat so light as when made from a roll.

I knew a very aged lady in France who accustomed herself to eat a basin of panada every night, a few minutes previous to going to bed, for a period of eighteen years, which will prove that, although very substantial in appearance, it must be very easily digested.

Panada ought to be rather thicker than gruel, and may likewise be made of milk, but water is preferable, especially when for bilious people.