Chop the mint leaves very fine. Add the boiling water and sugar. Cover closely and let stand one-half hour. Add the vinegar, pepper and salt.
Cream the butter, add the sugar and the egg. Mix well. Add the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nut-meats, salt, milk, vanilla and lemon extract. Beat two minutes. Pour into a loaf-cake pan prepared with waxed paper. Bake thirty minutes in a moderate oven.
"Bettina, let me help you unpack. Everything looks so dainty and interesting!" said Alice, as Bob and Mr. Harrison strolled off toward the river. "You ought to have allowed me to bring something, although I'll admit that I do enjoy being surprised. You were a dear to bring me with you!"
"I?" said Bettina. "Of course I'm glad to have you here—no one is better fun—but I wish you had heard something that Bob told me. He and Harry Harrison were planning to go fishing today, all by themselves, until Harry suggested that Bob might like to bring me along. And then he added as an afterthought, that as three is a crowd, Miss Alice might be induced to come too. (Why is it that 'Miss Alice' or 'Miss Kate' or 'Miss May' always sounds so like a confirmed bachelor?) Bob chuckled when he told me how careless and offhand Harry tried to be!"
"Betty, how pretty those pasteboard plates are with the flag-seals pasted on them!"
"I saw some ready-made Fourth of July plates, but it was more economical to make my own. And how do you like the red, white and blue paper napkins and lunch cloth? 'Lunch paper,' I ought to say, I suppose. Alice, you arrange the fruit in the center in this basket, with some napkins around it, and with these little flags sticking out of it in every direction. But first, my dear, please tell me why you changed the subject when I was speaking of Mr. Harrison?"
"Those devilled eggs wrapped in frilled tissue-paper look just like torpedoes."
"Alice, Alice, I learned something new about you today. Harry said that society girls got on his nerves, but that 'Miss Alice' seemed sensible enough!"
"Goodness, Betty, he has disagreed with every single thing I've said, so far! If he is being pleasant behind my back, I don't see why he should be so disapproving in his manner to me! But if he is really beginning to think me sensible, let us by all means encourage him! Hide my frivolous new hat in the lunch-basket, and give me something useful to be doing. Can't I appear to be mixing the salad?... Honestly, Betty, I do get tired of society as a single interest. But what else is there for me to do? Go into settlement work? I'd be a joke at that! Learn to design jewelry? Take singing lessons?"
"Try the good old profession of matrimony. Why are you so fickle, Alice, my dear?"
"I'm not; it's the men! Every sensible one I meet is—well, disagreeable to me!"
"Meaning Harry Harrison? He appears to be taking quite an interest, at least!"
"That is merely his reforming instinct coming to the surface. But—is everything ready now? We'll sing a few bars of the Star Spangled Banner, and I'm sure the men will come immediately!"
The lunch table was set with:
Mix the ingredients in the order given. Use a silver fork for mixing. Garnish with lettuce leaves.
Mix ham, olives and pickles with salad dressing and spread on lettuce or nasturtium leaves between buttered slices of bread. Trim off the crusts, and cut the sandwiches in fancy shapes.
Shell the eggs, cut lengthwise in half, remove yolks, mash them and add vinegar, mustard, melted butter, parsley and salt. Refill the whites and put pairs together. Wrap in tissue paper with frilled edges to represent torpedoes.
Cream the butter, add the sugar. Mix well. Add the egg yolks, slightly beaten, and the potato. Stir, add the chocolate, milk and then all the dry ingredients which have been mixed and sifted together. Fold in the white of the eggs beaten stiffly. Add the vanilla. Pour into two layer-cake pans which have been prepared with waxed paper. Bake in a moderate oven for thirty minutes. Ice with white mountain cream icing.
"Do come in," begged Bettina, "and have a little lunch with us. After such a bountiful dinner, we really ought not to be hungry, but I confess that the lovely drive home has given me an appetite. And you've never been here for a meal! Don't be frightened, Uncle John, I really thought of this yesterday, and my cupboard isn't entirely bare. It would be so much fun to show you our things and the house!"
"I'm not afraid I won't be fed well," said Uncle John, "but those clouds are black in the east. If it should rain we'd have trouble getting home. Besides, I don't like to have the car standing out in a storm."
"I don't believe it'll rain, John," said comfortable Aunt Lucy. "And if it does, well, we'll manage somehow. I, for one, would like to see Bettina's kitchen—and all the rest of her house," she added.
Bettina arranged the dainty little meal on the porch table, and Aunt Lucy and Uncle John sat down with good appetites.
"This looks almost too pretty to eat," said he as he looked at his plate with its slice of jellied beef on head lettuce, served with salad dressing, and its fresh crisp potato chips. And the nasturtium and green leaf lay beside them.
"Have a radish and a sandwich, Uncle John," said Bettina. "We have plenty, if not variety. Our only dessert is fresh pears."
"But it all tastes mighty good!" said Uncle John. "Say, Bob, it is beginning to rain, I believe!"
"Sure enough, a regular storm! We must put the car in the empty garage across the street. I'm sure we can get permission." And he and Uncle John hurried out.
"It will blow over, I'm sure," said Aunt Lucy.
"But if it doesn't—why, Aunt Lucy, stay here all night! We'd love to have you! The guest room is always ready. I know you'll be comfortable, and they can manage without you at home for once, I'm sure."
"Of course they'll be all right, and it would be quite exciting to be 'company' for a change. If only Uncle John thinks he can do it!"
"It looks as if there'll be nothing else to do," said Uncle John, when he and Bob returned. "Not but what I'd enjoy it—but I haven't been away from home a night for—how long is it, Lucy?"
"Seven years last May, John. All the more reason why this'll do you good."
"Oh, I'm so glad you'll really stay!" said Bettina. "Now tell me what you like for breakfast!"
"Anything you have except those new fashioned breakfast foods," Uncle John replied. "I might feed 'em to my stock, now, but not to a human being. But don't you worry about me, Betty! Because I don't worry about the breakfast proposition. Bob here is a pretty good advertisement of the kind of cooking you can do!"
The lunch that night consisted of:
Soak the gelatin in one tablespoon cold water for three minutes. Add the boiling water and dissolve thoroughly. Add the meat, onion, pimento, salt, pepper, lemon juice and parsley. Stir well together and turn into a mould that has been moistened with cold water. (A square or rectangular mould is preferable.) Stand in a cold place for two hours. When cold and firm, unmould on lettuce leaves and cut into slices. Salad dressing may be served with it.
Wash the radishes thoroughly with a vegetable brush. Cut off the long roots and all but one inch of green tops. These tops make the radishes easier to handle and more attractive. Serve in a bowl of chopped ice.
Cream the peanut butter, add the butter. Cream again, add the salt and salad dressing, mixing well. Cut the bread evenly. Butter one side of the bread very thinly with the peanut butter mixture. Place the lettuce leaf on one slice and place another slice upon it, buttered side down. Press firmly and neatly together. Cut in two crosswise. Arrange attractively in a wicker basket.
"How dear of you, Ruth!" said Bettina, as she put away the breakfast dishes. "Well, you shall have the benefit of everything that I know. Bob and I began with the kitchen when we planned this little house. It seemed so important. I expected to spend a great deal of time here, and I was determined to have it cheerful and convenient. I never could see why a kitchen should not be a perfectly beautiful room, as beautiful as any in the whole house!"
"Yours is, Bettina," said Ruth, warmly, as she looked around her. "No wonder you can cook such fascinating little meals. It is light, and sunny and clean looking—oh, immaculate!—and has such a pleasant view!"
"I wanted it to have lots of sunshine. We had the walls painted this shade of yellow, because it seemed pretty and cheerful. Perhaps you won't care to have white woodwork like this, but you see it is plain and I don't find it hard to keep clean out here on the edge of town! I think it is so pretty that I don't expect to regret my choice. Another thing, Ruth, do get a good grade of inlaid linoleum like this. I know the initial expense is greater, but a good piece will last a long time, and will always look well."
"How high the sink is, Bettina!"
"Thirty-six inches. You see, I'm not very tall and yet I have always found that every other sink I tried was too low for solid comfort. The plumbers have a way of making them all alike—thirty-two inches from the floor, I think. They were scandalized because I asked them to change the regulation height, and yet, I find this exactly right. And isn't it a lovely white enameled one? I am happy whenever I look at it! Don't laugh, Ruth; a sink is a very important piece of furniture! I had always liked this kind with the grooved drain-board on each side, sloping just a little toward the center. And see how easily I can reach up and put away the dishes in the cupboard, you see. I don't like a single dish or utensil in sight when the kitchen is in order. This roll of paper toweling here by the sink is very convenient for wiping off the table or taking grease off pans and dishes or even for drying glass and silver. A roll lasts a long time, and certainly does save dishcloths and towels.
"Do you use your fireless cooker often?"
"Every day of the year—I do believe. I cook breakfast food in it, and all kinds of meats except those that are boiled or fried. Then it is splendid for steaming brown bread and baking beans, and oh, so many other things! Mother keeps hers under the kitchen table, but I find it more convenient here at the right of the stove—on a box just level with the stove. Next, O Neophyte, you may observe the stove. The oven is at the side, high up so that one need not stoop to use it. It has a glass oven door through which I can watch my baking."
"I like this white enameled table. And the high stool must be convenient, too."
"It is splendid. Ruth, haven't you an old marble topped table at home? It would be just the thing for pastry making."
"Yes, I do know of one, I think, and I'll have the lower part enameled white."
"Fred can do it himself. Let him help to fix things up, and he'll be all the more interested in them, and in helping you use them."
"Bettina, this is an adorable breakfast alcove! What fun you must have every morning! If we have one, I don't believe we'll ever use the dining room. How convenient! Here come the waffles—hot from the stove! Fred, do have a hot muffin!"
"Not at the same meal, Ruth!"
"No, he'll be fortunate if he gets anything to eat at all! He isn't marrying a Bettina. But he says he's satisfied. Bettina, does Bob help get breakfast?"
"Indeed he does. He loves to make coffee in the electric percolator and toast on the toaster. He says that an electric toaster and plenty of bath towels are the real necessities of life, but I say I cannot live without flowers and a fireplace. Oh, you will have such fun, Ruth! Let Fred help you all he will."
"I'm hearing all this advice!" suddenly shouted a big voice in her ear. "Look here, Mrs. Bettina, does Bob know that you are advising your friends to train their husbands just as you are training him?"
"Fred, you old eavesdropper! I hope that Ruth makes you get breakfast every single morning to pay for this! Aren't you ashamed? Don't you know that listeners never hear any good of themselves?"
"I suppose Fred knew he needn't worry," said rosy Ruth, as she took his arm. "Look, Fred, isn't it a dear little house? May he see it all, Bettina?"
"Yes, if he'll explain how a busy man can get away at this hour of the morning."
"Well, you see I was on my way to the office when I caught a glimpse of Ruth's pink dress at your back door. I happened to think that she said she didn't get a recipe for those 'skyrocket rolls' that you had at your party the other day. I just thought I'd have to remind her, for the sake of my future."
"What under the shining sun! Oh, pinwheel biscuits!"
"Yes—that's it!"
"Why—all right. I have it filed away in my card-index. Here—with a picture of them pasted on the card. I cut it out of the magazine that gave the recipe. They are delicious."
Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt, work in the lard with a knife, add gradually the milk, mixing with the knife to a soft dough. Toss on a floured board, roll one inch thick, spread with butter, and sprinkle with the sugar and cinnamon, which have been well mixed. Press in the raisins. Roll up the mixture evenly as you would a jelly roll. Cut off slices, an inch thick—flatten a little and place in a tin pan. Bake in a hot oven for fifteen minutes. (These are similar to the cinnamon rolls made from yeast sponge.)
"Fine, Betty! We'll do it again! I don't object at all to getting up early when I'm once up! And we ought to get out and play tennis before breakfast every day."
"I knew you'd like it when you'd tried it once. But it took my birthday to make you willing to celebrate this way."
"Just you wait till you see what I have for you at home! I made it all myself, with a little help from Ruth!"
"Oh, Bob, is that what you've been doing all these evenings? I'm so anxious to see it! I've begrudged the time you've spent all alone hammering and sawing away down in the basement, but I didn't let myself even wonder what it was you were making, since you had asked me not to look."
"Well, while you're beginning the breakfast, I'll be bringing your birthday gift upstairs. Then I can help you."
In a short time, when Bettina was arranging the cheerful hollyhocks on the table, she heard a low whistle behind her. There stood Bob—looking like a sandwich-man, with a brightly flowered cretonne screen draped about him.
"Well, how do you like it?"
"Oh, Bob, it's the sewing-screen I've been wanting, and it just matches the cretonne bedroom hangings! Here are the little pockets for mending and darning materials—and the larger ones for the unfinished work! How beautifully it is made—and won't it be convenient! It will be useful as a screen, and also as a place for those sewing things, for I have no good place at all in which to keep them! It will be decorative, too! And how light it is! I can carry it so easily, and work beside it on the porch or in the living room!"
"Glad you like it! Ruth designed it, and made the pockets. I did the carpenter work."
"Bob, it's a lovely birthday gift, and I appreciate it all the more because you made it yourself. How pretty it is with all the woodwork enameled white!"
"I wanted it to match the bedroom things. Well, is that coffee done yet? Tennis certainly does give me an appetite!"
Breakfast consisted of:
Butter the bottom of a saucepan or frying-pan. Fill half full of boiling water. Break the eggs one at a time in a sauce dish, and slip them very gently into the pan of boiling water. The eggs will lower the temperature of the water to a point below the boiling point. Keep the water at this point (below boiling). Allow the eggs to remain in the water four to six minutes, or until the desired consistency. Remove from the water with a skimmer and serve on slices of toast which are hot, buttered, and slightly moistened with water. The proper length of time for poaching eggs is until a white film has formed over the yolks and the white is firm. A tin or aluminum egg poacher is very convenient. When using rings, butter the rings, fill each compartment with an egg, and dip into the boiling water. These are inexpensive, and economical, as no part of the egg is wasted.
Toast slices of bread one-half an inch thick on the broiler directly under the flame, or on a toaster fitted for a burner on top of the stove. Brown on one side, then turn and brown on the other. When both sides are an even golden brown, butter one side, care being taken to butter the edges. Set the toast on an enamel plate or tin pie-pan in the oven, until all the pieces are ready for serving. Always serve toast very hot.
Wash, peel and core the apples. Add water and cook slowly in a covered utensil until tender. Remove cover, add the sugar and cook two minutes. Sprinkle cinnamon on the top.
"Now, Charlie, you know that all girls have to learn at some time or other," interrupted Bettina's mother. "And I believe that Bob has fared pretty well, considering that Bettina is just beginning to keep house——"
"I should say so!" said Bob, heartily. "Why, I'm getting fat! I was weighed to-day, and——"
"Don't say any more, Bob! We'll rent the house and take to boarding! If you get fat——"
"No boarding-houses for mine! Not after your cooking, Bettina! I had enough of boarding before I was married. Say—how long ago that does seem."
"Has the time dragged as much as that? Well, I'll change the subject. Dad, how do you like my Japanese garden? I think it's pretty, don't you?"
"I certainly do, my dear. What are those feathery things?"
"Why, don't you know that, Father? And when you were a boy, you worked on a farm one summer, too! There's a parsnip and a horse radish, and a beet. Then there are a few parsley seeds and grass seeds on a tiny sponge! And see the little shells and stones that Bob and I collected for it."
"Yes, we found that pink stone up the river on a picnic a year ago last May, before we were engaged, or were we engaged then, Bettina? And the purple one——"
"Oh, you needn't reminisce," Bettina interrupted hastily. "Eat your dinner."
"I composed that poem just this minute," said Bob, undisturbed.
"Will you help me get the dessert now, Robert? Are you ready, Mother? And Father?"
"Yes, indeed. A very fine dinner, Bettina. We never have steak fixed this way at home; do we, Mother? Can we try it some day soon?"
"I have something for dessert that you like, Dad. Guess what!"
"What is it? Oh, lemon pie! That is fine, I can tell you! But I know already that it won't be as good as your mother's! Still, we'll try it and see!"
That evening for dinner, Bettina served:
Melt the butter in a frying-pan, slice the onion in it and sauté gently until golden brown in color. Remove the onion from the butter, cut the flank steak into pieces three by two inches. Dredge these lightly in one tablespoon flour and sauté in the butter until well browned. Remove the meat from the frying-pan; add the salt, pepper, paprika, mustard, vinegar and flour. Mix all together and add the water slowly. Replace the steak in the pan, cover closely and simmer one hour, or until the steak is tender. Serve on a warm platter and pour the gravy over it.
Mix and sift the flour, baking powder and salt; cut in the lard with a knife until the consistency of cornmeal. Add the milk, mixing with a knife. Pat into a rectangular shape, one-half inch thick, on a floured board. Cut with a biscuit cutter one and one-half inches in diameter. Place side by side in a tin pan. Bake in a moderate oven fifteen minutes.
Mix the cucumbers, radishes, onions, salt and pepper. Add salad dressing. Serve on lettuce leaves.
Beat the egg yolks, add the sugar gradually and beat; add the flour, salt, water, lemon juice and rind. Cook in a double boiler until it thickens. Pour into the pastry shell, cover with meringue and bake in a moderate oven until the meringue is brown.
Cut the lard into the flour and salt with a knife. Add the water gradually, lifting with a knife that portion that was moistened first and pushing it to one side of the bowl, wet another portion and continue until all is moistened, using just enough water to hold together. Put together and place on a floured board. Roll the crust to fit the pan. Press the crust firmly into the bottom of the pan. Prick the sides and bottom with a fork. Crinkle the edges of the crust; have the crust extend above the edge of the pan to make a deep shell for the filling. Bake the crust first to make it more crisp. Do not butter the pan. Bake from five to six minutes in a hot oven. When the crust is done, add the filling and cover this with the meringue.
Do not beat the egg-whites until ready for use. Then beat until stiff and add the sugar and extract, beating only a minute. Pile the meringue lightly on top of the filling, and bake the whole slowly. If baked too quickly, the meringue will rise and then fall. Bake only until it turns a golden brown.
"Good for you, Bob! They can't have a single lump in them after that! About the most unappetizing thing I can think of is lumpy mashed potato, or mashed potato that is heavy and unseasoned. More milk? You'd better use plenty. Here! Now watch me toss them lightly into this hot dish and put a little parsley and a lump of butter on the top. There, doesn't that look delicious?"
"I should say so! And look at the fancy tomatoes, each one with a cover! What on earth is inside?"
"Just wait till you taste them; they're a new invention of mine, and I do believe they'll make a splendid luncheon dish for the next time that Ruth is here, or Alice brings her sewing over. I'm practising on you first, you see, and if you survive and seem to like them, I may use them for a real company dish."
"You can't frighten me that way! Creamed chicken?"
"Creamed veal. Don't you remember what we had for dinner last night? There were two chops left and I made it of them. I know it is good when made of cold veal roast, but I had never tried it with cold veal chops—so again I am experimenting on you, Bobby!"
"You don't frighten me so easily as that! I've just caught a glimpse of something that looks like cocoanut cake, and I'll be happy now, no matter how the rest of the dinner tastes!"
"There, everything is on, Bob! Let's sit down to dinner, and you tell me all about your day!"
Dinner consisted of:
Mix the veal and sauce. Heat and serve hot on rounds of toast.
Wash and peel medium-sized potatoes; cook in boiling water (salted) until tender. (About twenty minutes.) Drain and shake over the fire a minute or two until they are a little dry. Either mash with potato masher, or put through potato ricer. Add butter, salt, paprika and milk. Beat till very light, fluffy and white. Reheat by setting the saucepan in a larger kettle containing boiling water. Place over flame. More milk may be needed. Pile them lightly on the hot dish in which they are to be served.
Wash the tomatoes thoroughly and cut a slice one inch in diameter from the blossom end, reserving it for future use. Carefully scoop out the pulp, being careful to leave the shell firm. To the tomato pulp, add bread crumbs, left-over vegetables, chopped meat, egg, melted butter, salt and paprika. Cook the mixture four minutes over the fire. Fill the shells with the cooked mixture. Put the slices back on the tomatoes. Place in a small pan and bake twenty minutes in a hot oven.
"Why, this is a mixture of green and black tea," said Bettina. "I like that better for iced tea than either kind alone."
"I like tea," said Fred, "although perhaps that isn't considered a manly sentiment in this country. I hope you do too, Ruth. Nothing seems so cozy to me as tea and toast. And I like iced tea like this in the summertime. An uncle of mine is very fond of tea, and has offered to send me some that he considers particularly fine. I believe that Orange Pekoe is his favorite."
"I think that has the best flavor of all," said Bettina, "though just now we are using an English breakfast tea that we like very much. And the green tea mixed with it for this is Japan tea."
"I've heard my uncle say that 'Pekoe' means 'white hair,' and is applied to young leaves because they are covered with a fine white down. Uncle also says that black teas are considered more wholesome than green because they contain less tannin. I tell you, he's a regular connoisseur."
"I see that I must become an expert tea-maker!" said Ruth. "I'm learning something new about Fred every day. Bettina, do tell me exactly how you make tea. Fred can listen, too, unless he already knows."
"Well, let's see, Ruth. I take a level teaspoonful of tea to a cup of water. I put the tea in a scalded earthenware tea-pot—that kind is better than metal—and pour boiling water over it—fresh water. Then I cover it and allow it to steep from three to five minutes. Then I strain and serve it. You know tea should always be freshly made, and never warmed over. It shouldn't be boiled either, not a second. Boiling, or too long steeping, brings out the tannin."
"But how about iced-tea? That has to stand."
"It shouldn't steep, though. I make it just like any tea and strain it. Then I let it cool, and set it on the ice for three or four hours. I serve it with chipped ice, lemon and mint."
"Mother always added a cherry to her afternoon tea," said Ruth.
"That would be great," said Bob. "I don't care much for hot tea, but I believe I would be willing to drink a cup for the sake of the cherry."
"Ruth," said Bettina, "I know now what I will give you for an engagement present since Fred likes tea, too. A silver tea-ball. Surely that will symbolize comfort and fireside cheer."
"Speaking of firesides," asked Bob, "what material have you decided upon for your fireplace? It seems to me that we're talking too much about tea-making, and not enough about house-building."
That evening Bettina served: