I didn't mean you to understand that I considered smelts to be the
only fish in the market at present; I simply wanted to call your
attention to them as being as good as any other, and a good deal
better than they, themselves, are at any other time of year.
Bluefish are good now, too; they are excellent, really, and a bluefish
at its best is hard to beat. Have you ever tried cooking them in the
oven? Have them split, you know, as for broiling, then put them into a
well-greased baking pan. Have ready half a cupful of melted butter
with the juice of an onion in it and likewise the juice of a lemon,
with a reasonable amount of salt and of cayenne pepper. Before the
fish goes into the oven moisten it well with the prepared butter, and
baste with the butter every ten minutes while it is in the oven. When
it is of a good even brown it is done. Now, don't serve with the
bluefish cooked in this way potatoes of any sort or kind. Have
cucumbers, hothouse, of course, and have them fried. Cut them into
thick slices and remove the seeds; then soak them in equal parts of
ice-water and vinegar, well salted, for one hour. Take them out, drain
and wipe dry and fry in boiling lard until a light brown. They are not
only good when served with bluefish cooked in this way, but they are
appetizing bits to accompany pork or lamb chops when you are serving
them with a brown sauce.
So much for to-day's fish story. As for meat, anybody can get good
meats at any time of the year if they will go to a man who knows how
to cut them, and won't insist on dickering with him about the price.
Domestic ducks are now in good condition. You might get one of them
and try preparing it in some new way to be used, if it's a success, on
Thanksgiving Day. Say stuffing it with mushrooms; use one can of
mushrooms to three heaping cupfuls of stale bread-crumbs; one-half a
cupful of melted butter, with salt and pepper. If the stuffing appears
to be too dry moisten it with a bit of milk. Split the mushrooms and
use all their liquor; if the duck is too small to require the full
amount you may add some of the mushrooms to the giblet gravy to be
served with it.
And there is plenty of material in market for green salads; there are
celery and lettuce, the stand-bys; watercress, escarolle, romaine, and
chicory. Try this latter some time soon, using a plain dressing of
oil, vinegar, salt and pepper for it, with bits of Roquefort cheese
sprinkled over it. If any among you object to eating this cheese
because of its odor, rest easy, for you may have at hand a
counteracting force in the Bar-le-Duc currants. They do, as you
probably are aware, put the finishing touch to almost any sort of
dinner, but when particularly strong cheese has been served they are
nothing short of a godsend.
* * * * *
To the ordinary reader the name of Bontoux conveys nothing; to the
Parisian of a generation or two ago it was synonymous with all that
was delightful in the way of food and drink. The shop over which
Madame Bontoux presided remains in the Rue de l'Échelle, but Madame,
herself, has been gathered to her forefathers. Originally she had been
a cordon bleu, and in the early forties opened a small establishment
in the Rue Montesquieu, which establishment, if I mistake not, is
mentioned in Sue's "Seven Cardinal Sins." Thence she moved to the Rue
de l'Échelle, where she died. Acting on the whim of the moment, she
would sell her wares only to those whom she liked, and those whom she
did not like might offer her a hundred times their value in vain. The
Rue de l'Échelle being near the Comédie Française, Rachel, who was a
gourmet of the first water, frequently went to the shop after
rehearsals. One afternoon she went in while one of the shopmen was
busy packing a hamper for Nicholas I. Among the delicacies there were
a dozen magnificent quails on a skewer. "I want those," said Rachel in
the imperious way she adopted now and then. "You will have to want, my
little woman," replied Madame, shaking her head in her enormous
bonnet, which seemed a fixture; no one had ever seen her without it.
Then Rachel toned down. "I will give you ten francs apiece for them,"
she said. "Not for ten crowns apiece," came the retort, and in a voice
which left the great actress no doubt as to its meaning.
Rachel was disappointed, and rose from her chair to go. Just when she
had reached the door an idea flashed on her. She turned round and
began to recite the famous lines from Corneille's "Horace." The effect
was electrical on the shopman, who dropped the quails. Madame Bontoux
was not so easily impressed. She kept shaking her head just as if to
say "You may save yourself the trouble, my girl;" but all of a sudden,
when Rachel brought out the last line--
"_Moi seule en être cause et mourir de plaisir_,"
she jumped up. "Give her the dozen quails and a pheasant besides."
Wonderful to relate, the enormous bonnet had got pushed on one side.
Now, there's a very pretty question to be discussed at your dinner
table o' Sunday night: Were those birds _à bon marché_ for Rachel, or
did Madame Bontoux, in the language of to-day, "get the best of the
bargain?"
When you go to market in search of game in these days, and the
marketman, leading you in the direction of the ice-box wherein he
keeps his choicest wares, says, "Look at 'em; ain't they beauties?"
you will be quite safe in acquiescing by a plain yea or a nod, but do
not go to the extent of ordering a dozen quail, or woodcock, or
snipe, or any other game bird, in fact, until you have ascertained if
the legs are smooth and the quill feathers soft, which facts prove
them to be young birds. Furthermore, be sure that the breasts are
hard, firm, and well-covered with flesh, for this will show them to be
in good condition.
Once the birds are under your roof-tree see to it that the cook does
not draw the trail from the woodcock or snipe, for by all gourmets
this is reckoned a great delicacy, and, by the way, though, of course,
it is a matter of common knowledge, the heads of these birds are the
most delicious morsels of all. Another point to be borne in mind is
that when preparing game for cooking it should never be washed inside,
but merely well wiped with a clean cloth.