When Molly reached her butcher’s next morning, Wednesday, she was surprised to find Mrs. Lennox there, and by the way she hastened to the door to greet her it was evident she was waiting for her.
“I knew you would come here, and I am going to enlist under your banner, so you must tell me what to buy and how to cook it.”
“Oh dear me!” cried Molly in consternation.
“Do you mind? I beg your pardon, I ought”—
“Oh, it is not that, but it’s such a responsibility. Suppose I advise something you don’t like?”
“If you did it wouldn’t be very dreadful, but I don’t believe you will. I only know we’ve enjoyed every meal since Saturday, and I’m nearly a dollar in pocket.”
“If that is really so I shall have something to suggest in colder weather. You see I know nothing of your tastes.”
“I believe we like a good many things we don’t have, but anything outside of steak and chops will be a welcome change.”
“What do you say to liver and bacon, and, as it is so inexpensive, have a nice apple pie or pudding with it. Do you like liver?”
“Yes, but Mr. Lennox protests I do not cook it right.”
“Suppose we take one—a lamb’s liver”—
“Lamb’s? I always get calf’s.”
“I think you will find this quite as nice and less expensive,—and I believe I will take one myself. Harry used to anathematize the liver at breakfast in the boarding-house so vigorously, for being cooked in thick slices like steak and whitey-brown in color, that I think he will enjoy it now.”
“I am afraid that is the way mine generally is. Now what shall I get for to-morrow?”
“If you had not had mutton so lately, I would suggest Irish stew; but what do you say to a pot-roast of beef,—or, to be finer, we will call it ‘braised beef’?”
“My dear, we have nothing but mutton and beef, so an Irish stew will be very good; and I certainly want to know how to make it well.”
“Still, I advise the small pot-roast to-morrow and an Irish stew later.”
“Very well, either will be good. Now what meat shall I get for it?”
“Three pounds of thick flank—of beef.”
The butcher handed out a thin piece nearly all fat.
“No, no, that is not the part; have you not the flank with a broad piece of lean running through it?” asked Molly.
The butcher now produced a piece of meat about four inches thick, three of which were lean.
“That is it.”
It was ten cents a pound. By Molly’s direction Mrs. Lennox got also half a pound of fat bacon, and her expenditure was:—
| Lamb’s liver | .10 |
| Bacon | .07 |
| Beef | .30 |
| .47 |
“Now we have meat for two days, for about what I have always paid for one.”
“And you’ll have something for breakfast, you’ll find.”
“The great thing will be the variation of our old routine, and the money-saving; but can’t you just tell me how they should be cooked, instead of coming yourself?”
“Yes, I will write out the recipes and send Marta with them.”
“And the apple pudding.”
“Ah, yes, you have suet in the house? Well, make a crust exactly as you did for the pot-pie; roll it out half an inch thick. Grease a bowl well and lay the paste in it, letting what is to spare hang over the sides; fill it with pared and cored apples cut small, and put over them two table-spoonfuls of sugar and a little water. Wet the border of the paste and gather up the overhanging sides, pinching them all together, so that there is no chance for juice to escape. Then dip the centre of a cloth in boiling water, flour it and put it over the pudding, tie it firmly with string just under the flare of the bowl, so that it will not slip up; bring the four corners of the cloth up over the top of the pudding and tie them.
“Before you begin to make the pudding, set a pot, that is large enough to boil it in, on the stove, half full of water; when it is fast boiling, put the pudding in and let it boil up quickly again, and boil for an hour and a half without stopping.”
“But I suppose the water must not cover over the top of it.”
“Oh, indeed, yes; so long as the water boils there is no danger of its getting into the pudding. As soon as it stops it begins to soak; that is why so many boiled puddings are heavy and soggy.”
“Well, I never knew that. I knew they were often heavy, but not why. I rather supposed it was because they were boiled in too much water, and so it got into them.”
They had talked along the quiet village streets, until Molly’s door was reached, and half an hour afterwards Marta ran across the road with the two following recipes:—
Pot-Roast or Braised Beef.—Remove the skin and some of the fat from the flank of beef (put both in the oven with half a pint of water to “try out”), sprinkle the beef with two level tea-spoonfuls of salt and half a salt-spoonful of pepper, a table-spoonful of finely-chopped parsley, if you have it, and a scant tea-spoonful of thyme, also, if you have it. Roll up the beef tightly with these flavorings inside, flour the meat and put in a thick saucepan or pot with a wine-glass of vinegar and two cloves. Cover very closely, and if the lid of the saucepan does not fit well put a clean cloth over it. Let it so remain till nearly browned, turning it about occasionally. Have ready a carrot and half an onion sliced, and when the meat has been slowly cooking nearly two hours, put them to it with half a pint of boiling water and a dessert-spoonful of Worcestershire or any nice table sauce, if you have it, and simmer very slowly two hours longer; then take up the meat, remove the strings, carefully skim all fat from the gravy which pour over it.
In summer put a pint of young peas into the gravy; fried potatoes are very good with this dish.
N. B. You will observe I have said with regard to some of the flavorings “if you have it.” I mean by that they are not necessary, but a great improvement; and, as they cost very little, if you want plain dishes made savory it is economical to have them always in the house.
Liver and Bacon.—Wash the liver, dry it, cut it with a sharp knife into slices the third of an inch thick. Dip each slice in flour. Cut some bacon in thin slices, remove the rind and fry it crisp but don’t burn it; then lay in the liver, only enough to cover the bottom of the pan; when nicely brown turn each slice; brown the other side and take it up on a hot dish with the bacon around it. Now if the fat is not burned (and to prevent that, it should be fried where the fire is good but not too fierce) stir into it a scant dessert-spoonful of flour, mashing all the brown bits and lumps with the back of a spoon; when it is all a fine brown, have a cup of boiling water ready, and pour it quickly into the pan. Stir till smooth. Let it boil down till thick as good cream, season with pepper and salt and a tea-spoonful of vinegar or Worcestershire sauce, and pour it over the liver.
If by chance the fat was burned pour it out of the pan, for it would make a bitter, black gravy, and spoil the whole. Put into the pan a dessert-spoonful of butter and one of flour, let them get quite brown stirring the while, when proceed with water as before.
If you have ready-browned flour in the house it saves standing over the fire waiting for it to brown in the fat or butter, and as you may like to prepare some I send directions. Of course whitey-brown gravy is very disagreeable.
Brown Flour, for thickening gravy quickly. Sift half a pound of flour into a dripping-pan and set it in a hot oven. Look at it occasionally and stir it well, taking care it does not burn; when it is the color of coffee that is half milk, or pale café au lait color, take it out and put it in a tin for use. You will require a third more of this to thicken than of raw flour.