Choice Cookery

XVIII.
COLD ENTRÉES.

Savories.—Within the last few years, which may, perhaps, be called the renaissance of cooking in England, since Kettner, in his “Book of the Table,” shows that in the Middle Ages that country was famous for its cuisine, while France was still benighted—within the last few years, then, there has grown up a fashion of introducing preparations called savories. They vary very much, from the tiny little bouchette of something very piquant, to be taken between courses as an appetizer—which, I believe, was the original idea—to quite important dishes suitable as entrées for formal breakfasts or suppers. But it is with the original “savory” as a piquant mouthful that they will take their place in this book. So important a part have they come to play in English menus (I am not now speaking of simple dinners) that the invention of a new “savory” is something to be proud of, and it is said that the very best are invented by the bons vivants themselves, seldom by the chef. One lady has written a book of which savories is the only branch of cooking treated, and she says in her preface, “Savories being at present so fashionable, and novelties in them so eagerly inquired for, I have been induced to publish a small book on the subject.”

In looking over any list of small savories we find many of our old friends in it, such as cheese canapés, angels on horseback, anchovy toast, etc. With these familiar dainties we will have nothing to do, only the mention of them will serve to show that any little piquant morsel may be used as an appetizer served as hors d’œuvres.

The Savage Club Canapés.—These must be made small enough not to require dividing—in other words, can be eaten at one mouthful. Cut slices of stale Vienna bread a quarter of an inch thick, stamp out from them with a very small cutter circles about the size of a fifty-cent piece. Sauté these in a little hot butter till they are a very pale brown. Lay them on paper when done, to absorb grease. Stone as many small olives as you have guests; fillet half as many small anchovies—that is to say, split them, and remove the bones and scales; wash them, dry them, and roll each one up as small as possible, and insert it in an olive in place of the stone. Now trim one end of the olive so that it will stand; then put a drop of thick mayonnaise on the centre of one of the rounds of fried bread, which, of course, must be quite cold; stand the stuffed olive on it neatly, and put one drop of mayonnaise on the top, to cover the opening in the olive. A variation, and I think an improvement, on this bouchée, is to use a little softened aspic to attach the olive, and a small quantity finely chopped to crown it. Still another plan is to put a tiny disk of bright-red beet on the top, using aspic to cement it there.

Canapés á la Bismarck.—Cut circles with a small cutter from slices of stale bread a quarter of an inch thick; sauté in butter till they are a light brown; spread over each when cold a thin layer of anchovy butter; curl round on each an anchovy well washed, boned, and trimmed; sprinkle very finely shred olives over them. Anchovy butter is two parts butter and one of anchovy paste.

Caviare Canapés.—Cut some slices of bread a quarter of an inch thick; cut disks from them with a small round cutter; fry them pale brown in butter. When about to use them chop a large handful of water-cress leaves very fine, taking care to press them in a cloth to remove all water before you begin to chop; when they are almost as fine as pulp, mix with them an equal amount of butter; when well blended, spread each canapé with it, and spread a layer of caviare on the top.

Prince of Wales Canapés.—Take some fine prawns, three anchovies, two gherkins, and two truffles. Bone the anchovies and wash them, peel the prawns, and then cut all the ingredients into very small dice. Make a sauce as follows: Bruise a hard-boiled yolk of egg in a mortar with a tablespoonful of salad oil, a saltspoonful of mustard; mix with this an anchovy and a teaspoonful of tarragon that has been scalded and chopped; pound all well together, and pass through a sieve with a teaspoonful of tarragon vinegar and a speck of cayenne; mix enough of this with the prawns, etc., to season the mixture. Salt, it will be observed, is not mentioned, because the anchovies and prawns may be salt, but this can only be known to the cook by tasting. Butter some small water biscuits (crackers), put a small teaspoonful of the mixture on each, and cover with finely chopped aspic. Garnish by putting a spot of green gherkin on one, a spot of red beet on another, and on a third one of truffle, and so on alternately.

Shrimp Canapés.—Fry some rounds of bread as directed for other canapés. Make some shrimp butter by pounding equal quantities of shrimps, from which heads, tails, and shells have been removed, and fresh butter till they form a smooth mass; spread the fried bread with it. Place whole shrimps on the top in the shape of a rosette, in the centre of which put a tiny pinch of chopped parsley.

Cheese Biscuits à la St. James.—Take three tablespoonfuls of the finest flour, half a pound of cream curds, and five ounces of Brie cheese, which has been carefully scraped, and a pinch of salt; pound all in a mortar; add five ounces of softened butter and three eggs, to make a very stiff paste, which must be rolled very thin, and cut into round biscuits. Bake in a very quick oven, and serve hot.

Kluskis of Cream Cheese.—Take half a pound of fresh butter, six eggs, six tablespoonfuls of cream cheese, a pinch of powdered sugar, salt, and sufficient grated bread crumbs to make a paste, adding cream if it crumbles; mix well together, and roll into small balls; poach them in boiling water until firm (no longer). Serve hot, with a spoonful of poivrade sauce on each.

Cold Cheese Soufflés.—Grate one and a half ounces of Gruyère cheese; the same of Parmesan. Whip half a pint of cream and a gill of aspic jelly to a high froth; stir in the cheese; season with salt, cayenne, and made mustard to taste. Fill little paper baskets or very small ramequin cases, grate cheese over the top, and set on ice to get firm.

The above mixture may be frozen just as you would ice-cream, but very firm, then cut out in little cubes, and serve on canapés of fried bread; it is then called “Croûtes de Fromage Glacé.”

Oysters à la St. George.—Take the beards from two dozen oysters; put the melt (or soft roe) of two Yarmouth bloaters into a sauté pan with two ounces of butter; dry and flour the oysters, and sauté them with the melt. Have some squares of bread fried a nice light brown; place a nice piece of the melt on each square, and an oyster on top; squeeze a few drops of lemon juice on each, and serve very hot.

Allumettes.—For these fantastic little trifles you require anchovies preserved in oil—not in salt; they are found at all Italian groceries and at the larger American grocers’. Wipe them free from scales and oil; cut each into long, thin strips. Have ready some plain pastry rolled very thin; envelop each strip of anchovy in pastry; pinch closely, so that it will not burst open, and fry in very hot fat for a half-minute, or sauté them in butter till crisp and yellow. Serve log-house fashion, using two allumettes for each crossing instead of one; put fried parsley in the corners, and serve very hot.

Eggs à la St. James.—Take as many eggs as you have guests, and boil them hard in buttered dariole moulds; the moulds must be large enough to hold the egg when broken into it, but not much larger. When quite cold remove the eggs; slice off the white at one end of each, taking care to preserve the shape. Scoop out the yolk; mix this with a teaspoonful of chopped truffles, a little pepper and salt, and put it back very neatly into the whites. Coat the eggs with aspic jelly several times. Serve them upside down, that is, the uncut part upward. Put a spoonful of half-mayonnaise (mayonnaise mixed with whipped cream) on each, and a few specks of chopped truffle.

A variety of this dish has anchovy paste in very small quantity in place of truffle, and the mayonnaise just made pink with it.

XIX.
GALANTINES, BALLOTINES, ETC.

Experts bone a bird whole without breaking the skin, but to accomplish it much practice is required; and even where it is desirable to preserve the shape of the bird, as when it is to be braised, or roasted and glazed for serving cold, it can be managed with care if boned the easier way. However, if nice white milk-fed veal can be obtained, a very excellent galantine may be made from it, and to my mind to be preferred to fowl, because, as a matter of fact, when boned there is such a thin sheet of meat that it but serves as a covering for the force-meat (very often sausage-meat), and although it makes a savory and handsome dish, it really is only glorified sausage-meat, much easier to produce in some other way. This is, of course, not the case with turkey; but a boned turkey is so large a dish that a private family might find it too much except for special occasions. On the other hand, galantines of game, although the birds may be still smaller, are so full of flavor that it overwhelms that of the dressing.

The following process of boning, however, applies to all birds. To accomplish the work with ease and success, a French boning-knife is desirable, but in the absence of one a sharp-pointed case-knife may do. Place the bird before you, breast down, with the head towards you. Cut a straight line down the back through skin and flesh to the bone. Release with the left thumb and forefinger the skin and flesh on the left side nearest to you, and with the right hand keep cutting away the flesh from the bone, pulling it away clear as it is cut with the left hand. When you reach the wing joint cut it clean away, leaving the bone in the wing, and continue cutting with the knife close to the bone until all the meat from the left breast is released. Return to the back and continue to separate the meat from the bone, always keeping the edge of the knife pressed close to the latter, until the leg is reached; twist it round, which will enable you to get the skin over it, and cut the joint from the body bone. Proceed with the right side in the same way, using your left hand for cutting and your right to free the meat (to some this would be very awkward, and when it is so turn the bird round). The bird will now be clear of the carcass. Lay the bird flat on the board, inside upward, then cut out the wing-bone and proceed to the legs; cut the meat on the inside of each thigh down to the bone and clear the meat from it, cutting it each side until you can lift the bone out; then free the drumstick in the same way.

If it be intended to stuff the bird in form, it would be necessary to bone the leg and wings from the inside, but for a galantine it is useless trouble, as they are to be drawn inside the bird. Spread out the bird, having drawn legs and wings inside, season with a teaspoonful of salt and half a saltspoonful of white pepper mixed together, and rubbed over the flesh, which must have been made as even as possible by cutting the thick parts and spreading them over the thin ones. If there are any bits of meat clinging to the bones they must be carefully gathered together and chopped with a pound of veal and two ounces of lean cold boiled ham, with four ounces of fat, sweet, salt pork. (Butter may be substituted if pork is objected to). When all is chopped as fine as sausage-meat, season rather highly with pepper and salt. Spread a layer an inch thick over the bird; then add some long strips of tongue, some black truffles cut into dice half an inch square, and a few pistachio nuts. Dispose these, which may be called the ornamental adjuncts of the galantine, judiciously, so that when cut cold they will be well distributed. Cover carefully with another layer of force-meat, fold both sides over so that the force-meat will be well enclosed, form it into a bolster-shaped roll, tie it up in a linen cloth securely with string at each end, and sew the cloth evenly along the middle, so that the shape will keep even. Put it into a stewpan with stock enough to cover it, two onions, two carrots sliced, a stick of celery, a small bunch of parsley, a dozen peppercorns, an ounce of salt, and the bones of the bird, well cracked. Let it simmer gently for three hours and a half. Take it up, strain the liquor, and let the galantine get nearly cold. Take off the cloth; wring it quite dry; put it on again, rolling the galantine as tight as possible; tie firmly, and place it on a platter; cover with another platter, and place a heavy weight upon it to press it into shape. Let the stock get cold. Take off the grease. Add a half-teaspoonful of sugar and the juice of a quarter of a lemon to the stock, and reduce by rapid boiling to a half-glaze, that is to say, a jelly firm enough to cut into forms without being tough. Clear with white of egg in the usual way, and when quite transparent pour part into shallow dishes, leaving enough to cover the galantine. Color one dish a rich clear brown; leave the rest light. When the jelly thickens, but is not quite set, cover the galantine with it half an inch thick. When the jelly is cold, cut it into what are called croûtons, which may mean vandyked strips, to be laid across, triangles, squares, or any fancy shapes; the pieces and trimmings are chopped to scatter over the dish or lay in small piles round.

Ballotines are small galantines made by treating small birds as directed in last recipe, only that the force-meat should have a larger proportion of truffles, and be made of the same kind of bird; for instance, grouse would have rich force-meat of grouse. One grouse, however, would make two or four ballotines; quails make two, to be served as individuals.

Galantine of Breast of Veal.—Bone a breast of young white veal very carefully, spread it out as flat as possible on the board, pare the meat at the ends for about an inch so that the skin may project beyond. Take all the scraps of meat that may have come from boning, provided they are not sinewy; take also twelve ounces of veal cutlet, and half the quantity of fat unsmoked bacon. Chop very fine, seasoning all rather highly. When the meat is fine, season the inside of the veal. Mix with the force-meat tongue, truffles, and pistachio-nuts or olives, all cut into half-inch dice (the tongue larger). So mix these that they will come at regular intervals through the stuffing. Roll the breast round the stuffing, which is not spread, but laid in a mass, and sew the veal together. Fasten it up in a cloth, tie securely at the ends, then tie bands of tape round at intervals to keep it in shape.

Braise this galantine for six hours in stock, which may be made of a small knuckle of veal and the bones and trimmings. Vegetables as directed for chicken galantine.

Let the galantine be cold before it is untied. Garnish and glaze as directed for chicken.

Galantine is occasionally made of sucking pig, and is very popular in France. The pig must be carefully boned, all but the head and feet. A sufficient quantity of veal, of fat unsmoked bacon, and of bread panada must be chopped and pounded to make enough force-meat to stuff the pig in the proportion of one part bacon, two panada, and three of veal, seasoned with a teaspoonful of onion juice and two of powdered sage.

The pig’s liver must have been boiled in stock, and cut in dice. There must be fillets or strips of rabbit or chicken, a few chopped truffles and olives. Mix well. Lay in the fillets as you stuff the pig, and when full sew up the opening. Try to keep the shape as near as possible. Then braise slowly for four to five hours, as directed for galantine of veal. Do not remove the cloth till it is cold.

XX.
HOW TO “FILLET.”—COLD GAME PIES.

I have spoken several times of “filleting.” To some readers an explanation of the term may be necessary. To “cut up” a bird does not indicate the meaning, nor does the term “to carve” it do so, because to carve means to cut up or divide with an exact observance of joints and “cuts.” Filleting, when applied to anything without bones, as the breast of a bird or boned fish, means to cut into very neat strips that are thicker than slices; but when you are directed to “fillet” a grouse or a chicken, it is intended that you should cut it into small neat portions regardless of joints and without the least mangling of it; therefore a very sharp knife must be used, and either a small sharp cleaver or a large cook’s knife only to be employed when a bone has to be cut through.

To Fillet Cooked Birds: Grouse, Pheasants, or Poultry.—Cut the bird in half straight down the middle of the breast-bone, using a large sharp knife for the purpose. Lay each half on the table and take out the breast-bone from either side. If the bird is a large fowl, duck, or partridge, each breast will make three fillets, and leave a good piece with the wing, but average birds only make two breast fillets. Chop off the pinions within an inch of the meat, then cut the wing in two neatly; drumsticks are to be chopped off close to the meat, and divided into two fillets (if a large chicken or duck; leave game whole); cut the thigh in two also. Trim very neatly; leave no hanging skin; indeed, when filleting for chaudfroids the skin should be entirely removed, and both it and the leg-bones are removed for pies. When possible, it is better not to use the drumsticks. From a chicken they make an admirable “devil,” and from game they help the bones and trimmings to make a rich gravy; so it is no waste to discard them.

Cold pies are of two kinds: the one cooked in a terrine or dish without pastry; the other in what the English call a “raised paste,” and the French a pâte chaude. Those with paste—which is seldom eaten—are far handsomer, but do not keep so well—that is to say, they must be eaten within three or four days even in winter; while in a terrine carefully kept in a cool airy place the pie will be good at the end of three weeks.

On the other hand, the pie in a terrine is much less trouble to make. Proceed as follows:

Game Pie.—Make some force-meat thus: Fry a quarter of a pound of fat ham cut in dice with half a pound of lean veal. Take the ham up before it gets brown, as you do not need it crisp; when the veal is cooked take that up also, and if there is enough of the ham fat in the pan, put in half a pound of calf’s liver cut up in dice, if not, sauté it in butter. In sautéing all these they must be often stirred, as you want them well cooked and yet not very brown. When done they must be finely chopped, then pounded in a mortar, with a small teaspoonful of salt, and half a saltspoonful of pepper. Then add a dozen mushrooms chopped, and mix the whole.

A game pie is usually made rather large, and the greater variety of game used, the better; partridge, pheasant, grouse, hare, all help one another, but at least two kinds are necessary. It must be boned and neatly filleted into small joints. Put on all the bones and trimmings to stew in three pints of water, with a good-sized carrot, onion, a stick of celery, a small bouquet, a clove, a teaspoonful of sugar, one of salt, and a little pepper; boil all this until the bones look white and dry when out of the stock. Strain, and reduce by rapid boiling to a half-glaze; put a layer of the force-meat at the bottom of the dish, then one of boned game, with a sprinkling of pepper and salt, and either a little finely chopped parsley or, what is far better, a few thin slices of truffles; pour over a little of the reduced stock; fill the dish in this way to within an inch of the top; make a plain flour-and-water paste, lay it on the pie, and make a hole in the centre, bake slowly in a pan of hot water. When cold, remove the paste, cover the top with chopped aspic, fold a napkin, and serve the terrine on it, with a wreath of parsley round the base. Game pie is not a dish to be eaten at one or even two meals (unless very small), therefore the aspic must be fresh each time it is served.

French Method of Making a Game Pie or Pâte Chaude.—Make a paste of two pounds of flour and one of lard or butter, with salt to taste and about half a pint of water; knead it into a smooth, rather hard paste; put it into a damp napkin for an hour. Butter a raised pie dish—a tin one that opens to release the pie—line it with the paste rolled half an inch thick, letting it come half an inch above the dish; line the inside of the paste with buttered paper, bottom and sides, and fill with rice or corn meal; cover with another piece of buttered paper, wet the top of the pastry all round, and lay a cover of thin pastry over it; trim very neatly, make a hole in the centre, and ornament with leaves cut from the paste and laid on; the under side should be slightly moistened to make them adhere. Brush the surface with well-beaten egg, and bake about an hour, when it should be a nice golden brown. Take off the cover; after it has slightly cooled, remove the rice or meal and the buttered paper; take the case from the mould, and brush it all over with egg inside and out; set it in the oven until the glazing dries, and any part that may not be sufficiently brown becomes the color of the cover, which, being glazed at first, is not returned to the oven.

Preparation for Filling the Case.—Fillet chickens, guinea-hens, partridges, or grouse (leave pigeons or quails whole, but bone them). Put sufficient pieces of one sort, or all sorts mixed, to fill the pâte chaude case into a sauté pan, with two ounces of butter, and sauté till lightly colored. Take them out, and put them in a stewpan with a quart of reduced consommé, half a pint of mushrooms sliced, a dozen truffles cut into dice (half-inch), a teaspoonful of salt, a little pepper, and a wineglass of sherry, and let them simmer very gently, not boil, for half an hour, or until very tender. Let them cool, and when lukewarm arrange them in the pâte case, leaving the centre hollow, which fill with mushrooms and truffles. The liquor in which they were stewed must be then poured over them. The cover of a pâte chaude case is often not used, and aspic jelly covers the top of the pie.

English Manner of Making Game Pie in a Crust.—Use at least two kinds of game, which for this purpose must not be long kept; high game is acceptable to epicures when roasted or stewed, but never in a pie. Discard all parts blackened by shot. Cut into neat joints, from which bones must be removed. Take all the fragments from the carcass after the breast and joints are removed, and the flesh of a small bird or hare, or, failing that, some calf’s liver fried in dice; pound whichever you may have for force-meat in a mortar with four ounces of bacon that has been boiled; when the whole forms a paste (from which you have removed all strings, sinew, or gristle while pounding), season with pepper and salt—a teaspoonful of salt to a pound of force-meat, and a scant half saltspoonful of pepper. Put on the bones, without vegetables, in cold water to simmer until it is a rich broth, which strain, and boil rapidly till a little set on ice in a saucer will jelly. Make what is called “raised” paste in the following way: To two pounds of flour use three quarters of a pound of butter and half a pint of scalding milk; pour this into a hole in the centre of the flour, and knead into a firm paste, adding a little more milk if necessary (but it seldom is). This paste is not to be rolled, but beaten out with the hand while warm to half an inch thickness. Line a well-buttered meat-pie mould, with a hinge opening at the side; leave half an inch of paste above the mould; trim off neatly with scissors. Then lay in the game and force-meat in alternate layers, seasoning the joints with pepper and salt as you lay them. A few slices of tongue and truffles to form one layer are desirable. When the mould is full, lay on the cover, moisten the under edge, and pinch round in tiny scallops. Make a hole in the centre, round which put an ornament; stick in a bone to prevent the hole closing, and bake two to four hours in a moderate oven, according to size, remembering always that the crust will not be injured by long baking, and that the game in this pie is uncooked. When it is removed from the oven, let it stand half an hour, taking the mould off, that it may cool; then brush the sides and top with an egg beaten with milk, and return the pie to the oven that the sides may brown; cover the top, if it is already highly colored, with a sheet of paper. Remove the bone from the centre, insert a small funnel, and after removing all fat from it, pour in the gravy from the bones. The gravy must be poured very slowly or it will bubble up, and care must be taken to have all the pie will hold, yet not a drop too much, or it will ooze somewhere. These pies, when quite cold, may be sent any distance, and are much used in England and Scotland for hunting-parties, besides being a standard breakfast and luncheon dish. The crust is merely a frame to hold the game.

XXI.
GARNISHES.

In all choice cookery the appearance of dishes has to be carefully studied. However good the taste may be, the effect will be spoiled if its appearance on the table does not come up to the expectation raised by the name on the menu. For this reason the subject of garnishes requires to be considered apart from the dishes they adorn. In the old time garnishes were few and simple, and when not simple, very ugly, as the camellias cut from turnips and stained with beet juice. Nowadays garnishes are many, and many so termed form part of the dish, as what are termed, “floating garnishes for soup,” quenelles, etc. Garnishes that are merely ornamental need not be so expensively made as those intended for eating. Foremost among fashionable floating garnishes for soup are the colored custards known as pâte royale; they are perfectly easy to make, yet very effective served in clear bouillon.

Colored Custard.—Prepare the custard with five yolks of eggs, a gill of cream or strong bouillon, and a pinch of salt; butter small saucers or cups; divide the custard in three—color one with spinach juice or pulp of green asparagus, another with red tomato pulp or the pulp of red carrot boiled, and a third with pulp of beets. A few drops of cochineal may be added to intensify the color of the last, which is apt to be a beautiful pink instead of red. The custard for which pulps are used must be strained after they are added, expressing as much of the juice as possible. The custard should be flavored delicately with the vegetable used for color.

Spinach Juice is very frequently directed to be used as coloring, but scarcely anywhere is any indication given that the juice without preparation is of very little use. It should be prepared as follows: Take a large handful of fresh green spinach, wash it, and remove decayed leaves only; drain well, then pound in a mortar or chopping-bowl until quite mashed. Let it stand a quarter of an hour, then squeeze the mass in a cloth, and put the green water into a cup, which set over the fire in a small saucepan of water; watch the scum rise; when it stands quite thick at the top and turns a vivid green, remove at once (if it remains on the fire after this the green darkens); pour the contents of the cup through cheese-cloth or thin muslin laid in a strainer. The scum that remains is your coloring matter. It must be carefully scraped off with a spoon, and mix with the custard only as much as is required to give a delicate green tint. If any is left it may be mixed with an equal quantity of salt and put away; it loses color, however, after a few days.

The colored custards must be set in water, a small piece of buttered paper over each, and the water allowed to boil gently round them till they are firm. Let them get quite cold; then cut them into cubes or diamonds.

Profiterolles.—Perhaps the next in popularity of these floating garnishes are profiterolles, or “prophet’s rolls,” as cooks call them. They are made exactly like those intended for dessert, omitting sweetening of course, and a very small quantity is required, as they must be dropped no larger than a pea, and baked a pale fawn-color.

Put a gill of water and a pinch of salt and two ounces of butter in a small saucepan; as soon as they begin to boil draw the saucepan back and stir in four ounces of flour; beat well over the fire with a wooden spoon until it becomes a soft paste, then add the yolks of two eggs and white of one, beating each yolk in separately. It will be seen that the paste is similar to that made for cream cakes.

A similar garnish is made in the following way: Beat an egg with a pinch of salt, and then stir in as much dry sifted flour as the egg will moisten; work it well with the hands till it is elastic, although stiff. Roll it on a pastry board until it is as thin as paper, then roll it on a clean linen cloth still thinner, and leave it a quarter of an hour to dry. Then fold the paste, press it very tightly together, and with a tin cylinder, not larger in diameter than a cent, cut out, with considerable pressure, as many small disks as you require to allow five or six to each plate of soup. Have ready in a small saucepan some smoking hot lard. Drop the disks in; they will puff and swell till they are like marbles. Stir them, and take them out of the fat; they require only a few seconds to brown, and must be taken out very pale. Add to the soup the last thing before serving.

While aspic jelly is certainly the handsomest of garnishes for cold dishes, it is generally part of the food itself, and should not be so lavishly used that when helped there is more jelly than meat served. Where the jelly is intended only for a garnish not to be eaten, simple gelatine is sufficient. For instance, a large platter containing a galantine or a chaudfroid may have a handsome wreath glued on the border, of red and green leaves, or holly leaves and red berries, or any device that need not be disturbed by the carver.

For such decorations as these gelatine is melted in proportion of three ounces to a scant quart of water, cleared with white of egg, and then colored pale yellow with caramel or saffron, vivid red with cochineal, and bright green with spinach; it saves time and trouble to let this congeal on dishes in thin sheets. Small cutters of ivy, oak, and other leaves can readily be purchased at the large house-furnishing stores.

One word here about uneatable decorations, never admit them at a children’s party; they are the very part of the feast the little people will most crave; red leaves for them must be of red currant-jelly, yellow of white, etc.

“Forced butter” is another form of garnish which adds much to the appearance of glazed ham or tongue. It is butter beaten to a white cream, then put in a forcer, and a pattern traced on the ham, which must be followed just as in icing a cake.

A Few Ways of Cooking Vegetables.—It is not intended to go into the general cooking of vegetables, although it may be said that even the choicest cooking can offer no greater luxury, or, alas! a greater rarity, than a dish of early peas or asparagus perfectly cooked. But this is not the place to remedy the wholesale spoiling of summer vegetables that goes on in almost every kitchen. I will only give what may be a few new ways of preparing familiar vegetables.

Stuffed Artichokes.—Wash the artichokes; boil till nearly tender; drain them; remove the middle leaves and “chokes” (this is the fibrous part round the base); lay in each a little rich force-meat, and put them in the oven to cook until the meat is done. Serve with rich brown gravy.

Fried Artichokes.—Cut in slices lengthwise; remove the chokes, cut off the tops of the leaves, wash them in vinegar and water, drain them, and dip them in frying batter. Fry in very hot oil or lard. Serve with fried parsley sprinkled with salt.

Beet-root Fritters.—Cut boiled beets in slices; slice raw onions; scald them; dry them well; then lay one slice of onion, sprinkled with chopped chervil, pepper, and salt, between two slices of beet. Dip them carefully in frying batter, and plunge into boiling fat; when pale brown take them up.

Cauliflower Fritters.—Parboil the cauliflower—that is to say, boil until it begins to be tender—about fifteen minutes; then plunge it into ice-cold water; this keeps it white. Break it up into branches. Dip each one into thick béchamel sauce slightly warmed; let them get cold; then take each piece separately and dip it into carefully made frying batter, and drop them into boiling lard; fry a pale brown, and serve garnished with fried parsley.

XXII.
VARIOUS WAYS OF SERVING VEGETABLES.

In the following recipes the mushrooms to be used are the large flap ones. When canned ones will serve, the fact will be stated.

Mushrooms Stuffed à la Lucullus.—Wash, dry, and trim large mushrooms; chop up the stalks and broken ones fine with a teaspoonful of minced parsley, pepper, salt, and a tomato; make these hot in a tablespoonful of butter. Fill the mushrooms with the mixture, place them on a buttered baking-dish, and bake six minutes, basting them once or twice with clarified butter.

Mushrooms and Tomatoes.—Toast some slices of bread, cut them into rounds two inches in diameter, and butter them. Peel some firm tomatoes, cut them into thick slices, and lay them on the toast. On the top of each place a peeled mushroom. Put them on a dish that can go to table, pour a little clarified butter over them, put them in a hot oven for three minutes, and baste well. Serve hot and quickly.

Mushroom Jelly.—Take two pounds of mushrooms, put them in a stewpan over the fire with a gill of strong consommé. Squeeze in a few drops of lemon juice, add a little pepper and salt, unless the consommé was salt enough. Melt in a gill of water half an ounce of gelatine, and strain it. When the mushrooms are quite soft, pass them through a sieve, mixed with the gelatine, and pour the mixture into a mould which has been rinsed with water. When set, turn out and garnish with finely chopped aspic, and a few cherry tomatoes if in season.

Mushroom Baskets.—Make some puff-paste; roll it out very thin. Line some small suitably shaped moulds (darioles will do very nicely); fill the centre with uncooked rice or flour to keep the shape while baking; cut some strips of paste, twist them, and bend them into the shape of handles; bake them very pale. When the pastry cases are done, empty out the rice, remove them from the moulds, and fill with the following mixture: chop as many canned mushrooms as you require with a small shallot, squeeze to them the juice and pulp of a large tomato, and put them in a stewpan with a tablespoonful of butter and a tablespoonful of very thick white sauce. Stir till about the consistency to eat with a fork. Squeeze a few drops of lemon juice over the top. Put the handles in so that they stand over the tops. Decorate with fried parsley.

The large Spanish or Portuguese onion that has of late years appeared in the markets is not often properly cooked. It is the most delicate and delicious of all onions, lacking the usual intense heat and rank odor. For this reason persons who wish to eat onions, either for health or inclination, will find this large onion cut up with ordinary salad dressing a great improvement even on Bermudas. This onion is full of a milky juice, which is lost in cooking if it is cut. Therefore, where a simple dish is required, the best way is to boil it, without peeling or trimming, for three hours if it weighs three pounds (it must be tender right through); then take it up, strip it, and remove the root, stalk, etc. Pour over it a rich white sauce, and serve, taking care that the gravy that runs from the onion is served with it. A still better way when an oven is not wanted is to bake them. Put them in a dripping-pan in the oven without removing peel or stalk. Bake at least four hours in a moderate oven. It will burn and blacken outside, which is of no consequence. Keep it turned so that the darkening may not go deeper one side than the other. When quite tender (but do not try it until it begins to shrink, or you will let out the juices), so that a knitting-needle will run through it, take it out of the oven, strip off three or four skins, remove root and stalk, and place the onion, without breaking it, on a dish; put a piece of butter as large as an egg, with a saltspoonful of salt and a quarter one of pepper worked in it, on the onion; cover it, and put in the oven till the butter melts, and serve very hot.

Stuffed Spanish Onion.—Parboil a Spanish onion; then drop it into ice-water; take out the centre and fill it with force-meat; cover with a thin slice of sweet fat pork; sprinkle with a teaspoonful of salt and the same of sugar; add four tablespoonfuls of stock, cover closely, and cook over a good fire. When the onion is tender, take it up, remove the pork, strain and skim the gravy, pour it over, and serve. The best force-meat for the stuffing is made of cold chicken, a shred of boiled ham, a little chopped parsley, half a dozen mushrooms, all chopped well and mixed with a tablespoonful of butter and pepper and salt.

Potatoes à la Provençale.—Mash and pass through a wire sieve two pounds of potatoes; season with pepper and salt. Grate two ounces of Gruyère (Swiss) cheese, pound it with enough butter to make a paste, add a gill of milk and a teaspoonful of chopped parsley; put this in a sauté pan, add the potato, mix all well, and stir until the mass is pale brown; serve as a pyramid.

Milanese Potatoes.—Bake large potatoes till just tender; cut off the tops, which keep. Scoop out the potatoes, but do not break the skin. Mash the inside with butter, pepper, salt, and grated Parmesan; about a teaspoonful of butter and cheese to each will be the right proportion. Beat the potato mixture with a fork for a minute to make it light, refill the skins, put on the covers, and heat them in the oven.

Scalloped Potatoes.—Mash two pounds of potatoes with milk, and pass through a sieve; add three ounces of butter melted, two ounces of grated Parmesan cheese, and a little pepper and salt. Fill shells with this mixture, and brown them in the oven. Glaze them over with butter melted and grated Parmesan; return one minute to the hottest part of the oven. Serve very hot.

Tomato Jelly.—Two pounds of tomatoes, half a grain of red pepper, and two small shallots. Place them in a stewpan and boil till quite soft. Melt half an ounce of gelatine in as little white stock as possible; add this to the tomatoes, and strain; if not perfectly clear, clarify with white of egg in the usual way. Mould, and serve with chopped aspic round it. A little grated Parmesan may be sometimes sprinkled over it for a change.

Tomato Soufflé.—Prepare some tomato pulp, taking care to boil it down if too liquid; stir in the yolks of three eggs, then the whites well beaten; salt to taste. Fill either a large soufflé case or several small ones. Bake in a hot oven till it rises very high and is set in the centre; serve instantly.

Spinach Fritters.—Boil the spinach till it is quite tender; drain, press, and mince it fine; add half the quantity of grated stale bread, one grate of nutmeg, and a small teaspoonful of sugar; add a gill of cream and as many eggs as will make a batter, beating the whites separately; pepper and salt to taste. Drop a little from a spoon into boiling lard; if it separates, add a little more crumb of bread; when they rise to the surface of the fat they are done. Drain them, and serve very quickly, or they will fall.

XXIII.
JELLIES.

In this country culinary skill seems to run to sweet rather than to savory cooking; very few housekeepers but make excellent preserves and cakes, yet the list of sweet dishes manufactured at home is very limited; as soon as anything not in this category is required the caterer is applied to, and he has his list of water-ices, cream-ices, and méringues, with very little variation; sometimes, indeed, a new name appears on the list, but it turns out to be some old friend with a new garnish, or put in a different mould and given an alluring name. There are many delicious sweet dishes not difficult to make when once the processes of making jelly and of freezing are understood (and very many who do not pretend to be good cooks are expert at these two things), and others which do not require even that ability. To put a sweet dish on the table, however, in perfection, especially if it be an iced one, requires the utmost care and skill; the slightest carelessness in packing a frozen pudding, any delay between removing it from the ice and getting it on the dish, will destroy that dull, marble-like appearance it ought to wear when first it makes its entry, although it will gleam with melting sweetness long before it reaches the partakers. Happily there are many delightful sweets which are beautiful in appearance and less depending on atmosphere than any of the family of ices. The simplest of these are fruit jellies.

I spoke just now of the art of making jelly, and many readers may think in using such a term for so simple a thing I am exaggerating, and perhaps “art” is hardly the word, yet there is a daintiness and nicety in making jelly which almost deserves the term.

However, before talking of how sweet dishes are to be made it is necessary to provide the means by which they are to be redeemed from the commonplace of mere richness and sweetness. The flavorings and liqueurs keep indefinitely if well corked. Orange-flower water, it is true, will lose strength, but when a bottle is first opened, if it is poured off into small vials, and each one corked and sealed, it will keep its original strength. The following list of articles kept in store will enable a cook to give her cakes, creams, etc., just that “foreign” flavor that home products so often lack: almonds, almond paste, candied cherries, candied angelica, candied orange, lemon, and citron peels, pistachio-nuts, orange-flower water, rose-water, prepared cochineal, maraschino, ratafia, lemons, extract of vanilla, and sherry.

Several of these things are used principally for decoration; for instance, the candied cherries and angelica and the pistachio-nuts. Consequently, unless the cherries and angelica are required for dessert (to which they are a showy and delicious addition), a quarter of a pound at a time is all that need be bought. Very likely in small cities or country places these latter articles may not be obtainable. But they are sold at the large city caterers’, also at the stores which deal in French crystallized fruits—not French candy stores—and can always be sent by mail.

The vanilla should be of the finest quality, and had better be bought by the ounce or half-pint from the druggist than from the grocer. There are good extracts put up, no doubt, but very many of them are largely made of tonka-bean, the flavor familiar in cheap ice-cream, in place of the more expensive vanilla.

In the recipes that will be given the directions will be as minute as possible; but to prescribe the number of drops required to flavor a quart of cream would be utterly impossible, the strength of the flavoring used differing so greatly, even in lemons. Sometimes the juice of half a lemon will be right for a certain thing, at another the juice of a quarter of one would be too much. This is where judgment must be exercised. If you have a very juicy lemon, although your recipe says the juice of half, you will remember that the average lemon would not yield nearly so much, and that the author had the average lemon in mind. This applies to all flavoring. Sometimes extract of bitter almond is so strong that even a drop would be too much to impart the faint almond flavor which alone is tolerable. In this case the thing to do for fear of spoiling the dish is to pour a half-dozen drops in a teaspoonful of water, and use from that, drop by drop, until the faint flavor desired is attained. In using any flavoring, great care must be taken not to put too much, as anything in the least over-flavored is offensive.

Mould of Apple Jelly.—Peel and cut up a pound of fine-flavored apples (to weigh a pound after preparation); put them in a stewpan with three ounces of granulated sugar, half a pint of water, and the juice and grated rind of a lemon. When cooked to a pulp, pass through a strainer, and stir in one ounce of gelatine that has been dissolved in a gill of water. Color half the apple with about half a teaspoonful of cochineal, and fill a border mould with alternate layers of the colored and uncolored apple. When cold, turn out and serve with half a pint of cream whipped solid and piled in the centre.

There is a great difference in the solidity of whipped cream. Sometimes it will be a mere froth that shows a disposition to liquefy, and cannot be piled up. When this is the case there is always a great waste of cream, for at least half will have been left as a milky residue. The reason for this failure of the cream to whip solid is generally because it is too fresh or too warm.

If in proper condition, cream will whip as solid as white of eggs, and leave not a teaspoonful of liquid at the bottom of the bowl; nor will there be the least danger of cream so whipped going back to liquid. It will become sour, but not change its form; and it will take but a few minutes to beat.

Cream intended for whipping should be twenty-four hours old in warm weather, and thirty-six in winter. It should also be thoroughly chilled, and if the day is very warm it would be better to set the bowl containing it on ice while whipping it. Put in the whip, or egg-beater, and do not lift the froth off as it rises; it is quite unnecessary if the vessel you use for the cream is large enough. As you see it begin to thicken, which will be after steady beating for five or six minutes, keep on just as you would for white of eggs. When the beater is withdrawn you should be able to cut the cream or pile it any height. If by reason of excessive heat it is slow in reaching the proper consistency, leave the beater in the bowl, and set the whole on the ice until very cold again.

The consistency of jelly should be only just stiff enough to keep form. It should shake and tremble while being served instead of remaining solid. It requires some little practice to make sure of this every time, although exact proportions be given. A tablespoonful difference in the pint or gill measure would, where the gelatine is only just enough, cause the jelly to “squat”—not an elegant term, but one that represents the form of a too soft jelly.

A very exact recipe for plain claret jelly, and which in proportions serves for any other unless special mention is made of some variation, is as follows: Three quarters of a pint of water, one pint of claret, a quarter of a pint of lemon juice (this makes one quart of liquid), the rind of one lemon, half an inch of cinnamon in the stick and two cloves, one tablespoonful of red currant jelly, two ounces of gelatine, the whites and shells of two eggs, a few drops of cochineal, and four ounces of sugar; put all in a stewpan, the gelatine having been softened in a little of the water; whisk over the fire until the whole boils; then draw it off, let it stand for five to ten minutes; strain through flannel or fine linen without pressure, add a few drops of cochineal to brighten the color, and mould for use.

Use great care in selecting cinnamon, for very much that is sold is not the true spice, but a cheaper one (cassia) that resembles it. Cinnamon has a bright tan-color, is rolled many times, and is not much thicker than paper when a piece is unrolled. Cassia is thicker in the roll, a dull brown, and if a piece is broken is like a piece of wood. It is similar in flavor, but much coarser, and has little strength.

XXIV.
JELLIES.—Continued.

If it is kept in mind that two ounces of gelatine to the quart of liquid is the right proportion, and that if even a tablespoonful of flavoring, fruit juice, or what not, is added, exactly the same quantity of other liquid must be omitted, there will not be much danger of formless jelly. Many forget this when not working from an exact recipe, and remembering only that a quart of cream or water or wine requires two ounces of gelatine to set it, they do not deduct for the glass of wine or juice of lemon, etc., they may add for flavoring. Although wine jelly is rather a simple form of sweet, suggestive of innocent country teas, a very little more time than the average housekeeper bestows upon it will convert it into a very elegant dish. In the season for fruits there is no more beautiful ornament for jelly than these, carefully gathered, with two or three leaves attached.

Jelly with Fresh Fruits.—Select cherries of two or three colors if possible, in sprays of two or three, and on each a leaf or two; wash them carefully by dipping them in and out of a bowl of water. Lay them between soft cloths to remove all moisture. Make a quart of punch jelly in the following way: Put together a pint of water, a quarter of a pint of the finest Santa Cruz or Jamaica rum, a quarter of a pint of sherry, a gill and a half of lemon juice, the rinds of two lemons, and the juice of one orange, or, if oranges are not to be obtained in cherry season, half a gill more of water, two ounces of gelatine, half an inch of cinnamon, the whites of two eggs well beaten and the shells crushed. Let this come to a boil over the fire, being well whisked the while; as soon as it boils draw it to a cool spot on the range, let it stand five minutes, and strain through scalded flannel over a bowl; let it drip, but do not use the least pressure. This jelly must be brilliantly clear. If there is any milky appearance it proves that the jelly did not really boil, and so the eggs had not completely coagulated; in that event boil once more for an instant, and strain again through fresh flannel. Oil a mould that has no design of fruit or vegetable at the bottom, and set it in cracked ice; pour in an inch or two of the jelly when nearly cold. Have the cherries ice cold, and arrange the sprays gracefully with due regard to color, remembering that the best effect must be not upward towards you, but towards the bottom of the mould; thus the underside of the leaves must be upward, etc. Do not put in more fruit than will display itself well. The bunches are to be isolated, not allowed to touch each other, and for this reason it may not be possible to lay more than one cluster at the bottom, if the mould is small there. In this case dispose a bunch of black cherries and leaves gracefully in the centre, pour in more jelly, half an inch or so, then nearer the sides arrange lighter-colored cherries, two or three clusters, no more. The fruit is only intended as an ornament. A jelly that is quite as pretty may be made by using clusters of red and white, or red, white, and black currants. The red and white ones should have two or three young leaves attached, and each cluster be perfect; no black-currant leaves must be used, as they have a strong flavor.

Jelly with Candied Fruits.—Make a quart of maraschino jelly, which is done by omitting the rum, lemon, and cinnamon from the last recipe, and using in place of rum a gill of maraschino, and water in place of lemon juice. The jelly must be very pale. Choose the fruits of as bright colors as possible—small green oranges, red cherries, bright yellow mirabelles, angelica perfectly green. Cut the oranges in half—two or three will suffice—leave mirabelles and cherries whole; apricots cut in half-moons. The angelica, if cut across a quarter-inch thick, will form rings, but if something more ornamental is desired it can be split lengthwise, softened in hot water, wiped, then tied into small love-knots. Pour into a mould set in ice (the melon shape is excellent for these jellies) an inch of jelly, let it set; then scatter in a few pieces of bright-colored fruit, always the best side downward; pour in an inch more of jelly, and when set more fruit, keeping the brighter pieces towards the side; if you have knots of angelica, put them near the side. Always see that one layer of fruit and jelly is nearly set before adding more.

Although fruits added to jellies in the way just described are chiefly for decorative effect, they do add very greatly to the pleasure of eating them; but jellied fruits, as distinguished from fruits in jelly, are a delicious mode of eating fruit, and where it is in abundance afford a pleasant variety.

Jellied Raspberries.—Melt two ounces of gelatine in a gill of water, squeeze half a pint of currant juice from fresh currants, and crush as many red raspberries as will with the liquid fill a quart measure. It is almost impossible to give definite directions for sugar, as fruits differ so much. Stir in six ounces, then if not sweet enough add more; mould the jelly, and serve with cream.

This is also very nice put in a border mould, the centre filled with whipped cream.

Roman Punch Jellies.—These require stiff paper cases of any of the ornamental kinds used for ice-cream, but they must not flare. Make some maraschino or wine jelly. When it begins to set, pour the jelly into the cases, which must be on ice, so that half the fluid jelly may set before it has time to soak the case. When quite set, very carefully remove the centre, leaving a shell of jelly half an inch thick. The last thing before serving fill the centres with well-frozen Roman-punch ice.

A Macédoine of fruits, if well managed and a good assortment of fruits can be had, is a very ornamental way of serving fruit. A mould should have half an inch of maraschino, punch, wine, or lemon jelly poured into it; then some perfect strawberries, or, failing those, red cherries, as many as the jelly will hold together without crowding, no more; then more jelly, and a layer of fruit of another kind (white, if possible), as pineapple cut into stars—a number of small stars can be stamped out of a few thin slices—more jelly, and a ring of dark fruit. Take care that all the finest fruits are used to form the outer rows. When the mould is almost full, with a layer or two of each kind of fruit, fill it up with jelly and set on ice.

Creams are a favorite sweet in Europe, and eaten ice cold are delicious. Too often they are confounded here with blanc-mange, which may mean anything from corn-starch and milk to gelatine and cream, but seldom is improved by the confectioner’s art into a really handsome and dainty dish.

Ginger Cream.—Make a custard of a gill of milk, an ounce of powdered sugar, and the beaten yolks of three eggs. Stir in a double boiler until thick. Let it cool. Then add one gill of the syrup from a jar of preserved ginger, and cut up two ounces of the ginger; add three quarters of an ounce of gelatine melted in as little water as possible. Last of all, add half a pint of cream whipped solid. Mix gently and till well blended; pour into a mould, and set on ice.

Neapolitan Cream.—Make a custard of half a pint of milk, the yolks of four eggs, and a tablespoonful and a half of powdered sugar. Let it cool. Cut up three ounces of preserved ginger very small; cook it in a gill of ginger syrup for three minutes. Let it cool also. Decorate the mould with one ounce of dried cherries and leaves, etc., of jelly. Cut the cherries in half, glue them with a little melted jelly to the side and bottom of the mould; cut some jelly in thin slices, or melt it and let it run into thin sheets, which allow to chill, and stamp from them leaves, or whatever shapes you please. Glue these also to the side of the mould in the most effective way your taste can devise. Stir one ounce of gelatine melted in very little water, and half a pint of cream whipped solid, to the custard with which you have already mixed the ginger and syrup. Pour all into the decorated mould, put on ice, and when it is to be turned out wrap a cloth dipped in hot water round the mould; give it a smart slap on both sides, and it will turn out without difficulty.