ONE of the most comico-pathetico true stories I know is that of a boy,
the youngest of a large family, who, having always sat at the second
table, knew nothing experimentally of the choicer portions of chicken
or turkey. Being invited out to dinner as the guest of a playmate, he
was asked, first of all present, “what part of the turkey he preferred.”
“The _carker_” (carcass), “and a little of the _stuff_” (stuffing), “if
you please,” replied the poor little fellow, with prompt politeness.
It was his usual ration, and in his ignorance, he craved nothing
better.
The pupil in cookery who enjoys tossing up _entrées_, and devising
dainty _rechauffés_, but cannot support the thought of handling raw
chickens and big-boned joints of butcher’s meat, is hardly wiser than
he.
It is a common fallacy to believe that this branch of the culinary art
is uninteresting drudgery, fit only for the hands of the very plain
hired cook.
Another mistake, almost as prevalent, lies in supposing that she can,
of course, perform the duty properly. There is room for intelligent
skill in so simple a process as roasting a piece of meat, nor is the
task severe or repulsive. Practically, it is far more important to know
how to do this well, than to be proficient in cake, jelly, and pudding
making.
Roast Beef.
Have a steady, moderate fire in the stove-grate. Increase the heat when
the meat is thoroughly warmed.
Lay the beef, skin side uppermost, in a clean baking-pan, and dash all
over it two cups of _boiling_ water in which a teaspoonful of salt
has been dissolved. This sears the surface slightly, and keeps in the
juices.
Shut the oven door, and do not open again for twenty minutes. Then,
with a ladle or iron spoon dip up the salted water and pour it over
the top of the meat, wetting every part again and again. Eight or ten
ladlefuls should be used in this “basting,” which should be repeated
every fifteen minutes for the next hour. Allow twelve minutes to each
pound of meat in roasting beef.
Do not swing the oven door wide while you baste, but slip your hand
(protected by an old glove or a napkin) into the space left by the
half-open door, and when you have wet the surface of the roast quickly
and well, shut it up again to heat and steam.
A little care in this respect will add much to the flavor and
tenderness of the beef.
Should one side of it, or the back, brown more rapidly than the
rest, turn the pan in the oven, and should the water dry up to a few
spoonfuls, pour in another cupful from the tea-kettle.
About twenty minutes before the time for the roasting is up, draw the
pan to the oven-door, and sift flour over the meat from a flour dredger
or a small sieve. Shut the door until the flour browns, then baste
abundantly, and dredge again.
In five minutes, or when this dredging is brown, rub the top of the
meat with a good teaspoonful of butter, dredge quickly and close the
door.
If the fire is good, in a few minutes a nice brown froth will encrust
the surface of the cooked meat. Lift the pan to the side table, take
up the beef by slipping a strong cake-turner or broad knife under it,
holding it firmly with a fork, and transfer to a heated platter.
Set in the plate-warmer, or over boiling water, while you make the
gravy.
Gravy (brown).
Set the pan in which the meat was roasted, _on_ the range when the beef
has been removed to a dish. Scrape toward the centre the browned flour
from sides and bottom and dust in a little more from your dredger as
you stir. If the water has boiled away until the bottom of the pan is
exposed, add a little, _boiling hot_, directly from the teakettle and
stir until the gravy is of the consistency of rich cream.
Pepper to taste and pour into a gravy boat.
While I give these directions, I may remark that few people of nice
taste like _made_ thickened gravy with roast beef. Many prefer,
instead, the red essence which follows the carver’s knife and settles
in the dish. The carver should give each person helped his or her
choice in this matter.
I am thus explicit with regard to roasting beef because the process is
substantially the same with all meats. Dash scalding water over the
piece put down for cooking in this way: heat rather slowly at first,
increasing the heat as you go on; baste faithfully; keep the oven open
as little as may be and dredge, then baste, alternately, for twenty
minutes, or so, before dishing the meat.
Roast Mutton.
Cook exactly as you would beef: but if you wish a made gravy, pour
it first from the baking-pan into a bowl and set in cold water five
minutes, or until the fat has risen to the top.
Skim off all of this that you can remove without disturbing the dregs.
It is “mutton-tallow”—very good for chapped hands, but not for human
stomachs. Return the gravy to the fire, thicken, add boiling water, if
needed, and stir until smooth.
Always send currant, or grape jelly, around with mutton and lamb.
Roast Lamb.
Cook two minutes less in the pound than you would mutton. Instead of
gravy, you can send in with it, if you choose
Mint Sauce.
To two tablespoonfuls of chopped mint, add a tablespoonful of white
sugar and nearly two thirds of a cup of vinegar. Let them stand
together ten minutes in a cool place before sending to table.