A CHAPTER OF ODDS AND ENDS--VALEDICTORY.
I HAVE alluded, in an earlier chapter, to the fact that many
inexperienced cooks are afraid of altering recipes; a few words on this
subject may not be out of place. As a rule, a recipe should be
faithfully followed in all important points; for instance, in making
soup you cannot because you are short of the given quantity of meat, put
the same amount of water as directed for the full quantity, without
damaging your soup; but you may easily reduce water and _every other
ingredient_ in the same proportion; and, in mere matters of flavoring,
you may vary to suit circumstances. If you are told to use cloves, and
have none, a bit of mace may be substituted.
If you read a recipe, and it calls for something you have not, consider
whether that something has anything to do with the substance of the
dish, or whether it is merely an accessory for which something else can
be substituted. For instance, if you are ordered to use cream in a
sauce, milk with a larger amount of well-washed butter may take its
place; but if you are told to use cream for charlotte russe or trifles,
there is no way in which you could make milk serve, since it is not an
accessory but the chief part of those dishes. For a cake in which cream
is used, butter whipped to a cream may take its place. Wine is usually
optional in savory dishes; it gives richness only.
Again, in cakes be very careful the exact proportions of flour, eggs,
and milk are observed; of butter you can generally use more or less,
having a more or less rich cake in proportion. In any but plain cup
cakes (which greatly depend on soda and acid for their lightness) never
lessen the allowance of eggs; never add milk if a cake is too stiff (but
an extra egg may always be used), unless milk is ordered in the recipe,
when more or less may be used as needed. Flavoring may be always varied.
In reducing a recipe always reduce _every ingredient_, and it can make
no difference in the results. Sometimes, in cookery books, you are told
to use articles not frequently found in ordinary kitchens; for instance,
a larding-needle (although that can be bought for twenty-five cents at
any house-furnishing store, and should always be in a kitchen); but, in
case you have not one for meat, you may manage by making small cuts and
inserting slips of bacon.
Another article that is very useful, but seldom, if ever, to be found in
small kitchens, is a salamander; but when you wish to brown the top of a
dish, and putting it in the oven would not do, or the oven is not quick
enough to serve, an iron shovel, made nearly red, and a few red cinders
in it, is a very good salamander. It must be held over the article that
requires browning near enough to color it, yet not to burn.
In the recipes I have given nothing is required that cannot be obtained,
with more or less ease, in New York. For syrups, fruit juices, etc.,
apply to your druggist; if he has not them he will tell you where to
obtain them. We often make up our minds that because a thing is not
commonly used in this country, it is impossible to get it. Really there
are very few things not to be got in New York City to the intelligent
seeker. You need an article of French or Italian or may be English
grocery, that your grocer, a first-class one, perhaps, has not, and you
make up your mind you cannot get it. But go into the quarters where
French people live, and you can get everything belonging to the French
_cuisine_. So prejudiced are the French in favor of the productions of
_la belle France_, that they do not believe in our parsley or our chives
or garlic or shallots; for I know at least one French grocer who imports
them for his customers. On being asked why he brought them from France
to a country where those very things were plentiful, he answered:
"Oh, French herbs are much finer."
Needless to say tarragon is one of the herbs so imported, and can thus
be bought; but, as several New Jersey truck gardeners grow all kinds of
French herbs, they can be got in Washington Market, and most druggists
keep them dried; but for salads, Montpellier butter, and some other
uses, the dried herb would not do, although for flavoring it would
serve; but the far better way is to grow them for yourself, as I have
done. Any large seedsman will supply you with burnet, tarragon, and
borage (very useful for salads, punch, etc.) seeds, and if you live in
the country, have an herb bed; if in town, there are few houses where
there is not ground enough to serve for the purpose; but even in these
few houses one can have a box of earth in the kitchen window, in which
your seeds will flourish.
Parsley is a thing in almost daily request in winter, yet it is very
expensive to buy it constantly for the sake of using the small spray
that often suffices. It is a good plan, therefore, in fall, to get a few
roots, plant them in a pot or box, and they will flourish all winter,
if kept where they will not freeze, and be ready for garnishing at any
minute.
Always, as far as your means allow, have every convenience for cooking.
By having utensils proper for every purpose you save a great deal of
work and much vexation of spirit. Yet it should be no excuse for bad
work that such utensils are not at hand. A willing and intelligent cook
will make the best of what she has. Apropos of this very thing Gouffé
relates that a friend of his, an "artist" of renown, was sent for to the
chateau of a Baron Argenteuil, who had taken a large company with him,
unexpectedly crowding the chateau in every part. He was shown into a
dark passage in which a plank was suspended from the ceiling, and told
this was to be his kitchen. He had to fashion his own utensils, for
there was nothing provided, and his pastry he had to bake in a
frying-pan--besides building two monumental _plâts_ on that board--and
prepare a cold _entrée_. But he cheerfully set to work to overcome
difficulties, achieved his task, and was rewarded by the plaudits of the
diners. Such difficulties as these our servants never have to encounter,
and a cheerful endeavor to make the best of everything should be the
rule. Yet, let us spare them all the labor we can, or rather make it as
easy and pleasant as possible; they will be more proud of their
well-furnished kitchen, more cheerful in it, than they will of one where
everything for their convenience is grudged, and such pride and
cheerfulness will be your gain.
There is always a great deal of talk about servants in America, how bad
and inefficient they are, how badly they contrast with those of England.
Certainly, they are not so efficient as those of the older country; how
could they be? There, girls who are intended for servants have ever held
before their eyes what they may or may not do in the future calling, and
how it is to be done. But take one of these orderly, efficient girls,
put her in an American family as general servant or as cook, where two
are kept, washing and ironing to do, and a variety of other work, and
see how your English servant would stare at your requirements. She has
been accustomed to her own line of work at home; if housemaid, she has
been dressed for the day at noon; if cook, she has never done even her
own washing.
She may, and will no doubt, fall into the way of the country, after a
while, and on account of her early habits of respect, will make a good
servant perhaps. But many of them would be quite indignant at being
asked to do the average servant's work here. I am speaking now of the
_trained_ servants; but, comparing the London "maid-of-all-work" or
"slavey" with our own general servants, and considering how much more is
expected of the latter, the comparison seems to me vastly in the favor
of our own Bridgets. We may rest assured, however smoothly the wheels of
household management glide along in wealthy families across the water,
people who can only keep one or two have all our troubles with servants
and a few added, and their faults are just as general a subject of
conversation among ladies.
France (out of Paris, from Parisian servants deliver me!) and Germany
seem the favored lands where one servant does the work of three or four.
Yet even they, are, they say, degenerating. Let us, then, be contented
and make the best of what we have, assured that even Biddy is not so
hopeless as she is painted. Kindness (not weakness), firmness, and
patience work wonders, even with the roughest Emerald that ever crossed
the sea.
I have said somewhere else that you must beware of attempting too much
at once; perfect yourself in one thing before you attempt another. Take
breaded chops or fried oysters, make opportunities for having them
rather often, and do not rest satisfied until you have them as well
fried as you have ever seen them anywhere; "practice makes perfect," and
you certainly will achieve perfection if you are not discouraged by one
failure. But above all things never make experiments for company; let
them be made when it really matters little whether you succeed or not,
and let your experiments be on a _small_ scale; don't attempt to fry a
_large_ dish of oysters or chops until it is a very easy task, or make
more than half a pound of puff paste at first; for if you fail with a
large task before you, you will be tired and disheartened, hate the
sight of what you are doing, and, as a consequence, not be likely to
return to it very soon. The same may be said of cooks; some of them are
very fond of experiments, which taste I should always encourage; but do
not let them jump from one experiment to the other; if they try a dish
and fail, they often make up their minds that the fault is not theirs,
that it is not worth while to "bother" with it. Here your knowledge will
be of service; you will show them that it can be done, how it should be
done, and order the dish cook failed in, frequently, giving it
sufficient surveillance to prevent your family suffering from her
inexperience; for, as a witty Frenchman said of Mme. du Deffaud's cook,
"Between her and Brinvilliers there is only the difference of
intention."
Few things add more to a man or woman's social reputation than the fact
that they keep a good table. It need not be one where
"The strong table groans
Beneath the smoking sirloin stretched immense;"
but a table where whatever you do have will be good, be it pork and
beans, or salmi; the pork and beans would satisfy a Bostonian, the salmi
Grimod de la Reynière himself. I do not admit with Di Walcott that
"The turnpike road to people's hearts I find
Lies through their mouths, or I mistake mankind."
But it is a fact that good living--by this I do not mean extravagant
living--presupposes good breeding. Well-bred people sometimes live
badly; but ill-bred people seldom or ever live well, in the right sense
of the term.
Now, by way of valedictory, let me repeat that I do not think a lady's
best or proper place is the kitchen; but it is quite possible to have a
perfectly served table, yet spend very little time there. Only that one
little hour a day that Talleyrand, the busy man full of intrigue and
statecraft, found time to spend with his cook, would insure your table
being well served. For, after devoting say a few winter months to
perfecting yourself in a few things, you will be able to teach your
cook, who is often ambitious to excel if put in the right way. A word
here about cooks.
The knowledge that if they fail to do a thing well you will do it
yourself, will often put them on their mettle to do their best; while
the feeling that you don't know, will make them careless.
Servants have a great deal more _amour propre_ than people imagine;
therefore, stimulate it by judicious praise and appreciation; let them
think that to send in a dish perfect, is a glory to themselves as well
as a pleasure to you. While careful to remark when alone with them upon
any fault that results from carelessness, be equally careful to give all
the praise you can, and repeat to them complimentary remarks that may
have been made on their skill. Servants are usually--such is the
weakness of feminine nature, whether in the drawing-room or the
kitchen--very sensitive to the praise or blame of the gentlemen of the
family. Indulge poor humanity a little when you honestly can.
INDEX
PAGE
Almond creams, 93
Altering recipes, 111, 112
Asparagus, to boil, 66
Baba, 86
Small, 87
Syrup for, 87
Batter for frying à la Carême, 59
" " " " Provençale, 60
Beef, B[oe]uf à la jardinière, 74
" au Gratin, 75
Filet de b[oe]uf Chateaubriand, 49
Fritadella, 81
Little breakfast dish of, 78
Miroton of, 76
Olives of, 79
Pseudo-beefsteak, 75
Ragout of cold, 78
Salmi of cold, 73
Simplest way to warm a joint, 77
To warm over a large piece, 78
Sirloin, to make two dishes, 49
Biscuit glacé, à la Charles Dickens, 85
" " " Thackeray, 85
Blanc for white sauce, 31
Boiling, asparagus, 66
Cabbage, 65
Potatoes, 66
Peas, 65
Rules for meat, 65
Bouchées de dames, 88
To ice, 89
Bread, 12
Baking, 14
Cause of failure, 15
" of thick crust, 14
Compressed yeast, 15
Kneading, 14
Oven heating, 14
Remarks, 12
Rules of time for rising, 14
To set sponge, 13
Bread-crumbs for frying, 56
Bread dough, to keep a day or two, 106
" " for pie crust, 97
Soufflée, 20
Brioche, 18
Jockey Club, recipe for, 19
for summer pastry, 19, 20
Broiling, 60
Chickens and birds, 61
Brown flour, 34
Sauce, 71
Butter, maître d'hôtel, 32
Montpellier, 33
Ravigotte, 33
Cabbage, to boil, 65
Cakes, Baba, 86
Bouchées de dames, 83
Savarins, 88
Candies, 92
Chocolate creams, 94
Cream almonds, 93
Cream walnuts, 93
Fondant, 92
Fondant panaché, 93
Punch drops, 94
Simple French, 92
Tutti frutti, 92
Vanilla almond cream, 92
Walnut cream, 92
Celeraic, or turnip-rooted celery, 54
Celery seed for soup, 106
Celery cream soup, 68
Chateaubriand, filet de b[oe]uf, 49
Chicken, 48
Broiling, 60
Cold, 49
Pie, 38
Potted, 44
Roasting, 48
Use of the feet, 48
Clinkered fire-bricks, 107
Cold meat salmi, 73
Various ways of warming, 72-81
Coloring for candy and icing, 95
Company to lunch, and nothing in
the house, 44
Cromesquis of cold lamb, 75
Crumbs for frying, 56
Cucumber and onion ragout, 102
Curaçoa, to make, 89
Curry, 108
Deviled meats, 80
Dishes made without meat, 102
Dripping, to clarify, 59
Feuilletonage, 23
Fire-bricks, to remove clinkers from, 107
To mend, 107
Flavoring, 70
Flounders, to bone, 56
As filet de sole, 56
Forequarter of mutton, 101
Frangipane tartlets, 26
French herbs, 113
Friandises, 84
Fritadella of cold meat, twenty
recipes in one, 81
Frying, 55
Batter à la Carême, 59
" " Provençale, 60
Crumbing, 56
Filet de sole, 56
Flounders, 56
Oil for, 58
Oysters, 57
Remarks on, 55
To clarify dripping for, 59
To test the heat of fat for, 57
Galantine, 39
Garlic, 108
Glaze, 30
To glaze ham, tongue, etc., 32
Gouffé's pot-au-feu, 68
Rules for ovens, 27
Gravy, 29-63
Grating nutmegs, 105
Ham, to boil, 65
To glaze, 32
To pot, 43
Hash, 97
Heart, beef, 100
Sheep's, 99
Iced soufflée, 85
A la Byron, 84
Icing, 89
Ink, to remove from carpets, 107
Jellied fish or oysters, 41
Jelly for cold chicken, 47
Jelly from pork, 31
Kerosene lamps, 107
Keeping meat, 106
Poultry, 107
Dough, 106
Kitchen conveniences, 114
Kreuznach horns, 16
Kringles, 17
Lamb, cromesquis of, 75
Lamps, 107
Larding needle, 112
Leg of mutton, 52
A la Soubise, 52
Boiled, 52
Lemons, to keep, 105
Peels, 106
Little dinners, 50
Liver, sheep's, 98
Luncheons, 35
Maître d'hôtel butter, 32
Management in small families, 47
Maraschino, to make, 90
Marrow from soup bone, 98
Mayonnaise, new, 42
Meat, to keep, 106
Salad, 52
Mephistophelian sauce, 81
Miroton of beef, 76
Montpellier butter, 33
Mushroom powder, 29
Mutton broth, 52
Forequarter, 101
Leg, 52
Neck of mutton, 101
Noyeau, 90
Nutmegs, best way to grate, 105
Omelet, new, 45
Onion soup, maigre, 103
Ornamenting meat pies, 37
Ovens, 14
Gouffé's rules for heating, 27
Oysters, to fry, 57
In jelly, 41
Ox cheek, 100
Panaché fondant, 93
Parsley seed for soup, 106
Parsley in winter, 113
Paste, puff, 22
To handle, 24
Pastry tablets, 26
Pâte à la Carême for frying, 59
" " Provençale, 60
Peas, to boil, 66
Pease soup, maigre, 103
Pie, bread dough for crust, 97
Chicken, to eat cold, 38
Fruit, 24
English raised, 38
To "raise" a, 39
Veal and ham, 38
Windsor, 36
Pork for jelly, 31
Potato salad, 54
Snow, 45
Soup, maigre, 103
To warm over, 46
Pot-au-feu, 68
Pot roasts, 99
Potted meats, 43
Punch drops, 94
Ragout of cold meat, 78
Of cucumber and onion, 102
Ravigotte, 33
Remarks, preliminary, 1-12
On boiling, 65
On bread-making, 12
On frying, 54
On kitchen and servants, 114
On little dinners, 50
On luncheons, 35
On maigre dishes, 104
On management in small families, 47
On sauces and flavoring, 70
Remarks on soups, 67
On table prejudices, 108
On true economy in buying meat, 99
On roasting, 62
Rissolettes, 25
Rolls, 15
Roux, 34
Rusks, 16
Salad, Celeraic, 54
Potato, 54
Cold meat, 52
Salamander, substitute for, 112
Sauces, 70
Flavoring, 70
Brown or espagnole, 71
Mephistophelian, 81
White, 71
Mayonnaise, 42
Savarin (cake), 88
Soufflée bread, 20
Iced, 85
A la Byron, 84
Soup bone, 96
Soup, celery cream, 68
Consommé, 68
Pot-au-feu, 68
Onion, 103
Pease, 103
Potato, 103
To color, 67
To clear stock, 66
Sugar boiling for candy, 91
Tainted meat, to restore, 107
To make strong vegetables milder, 106
Tutti frutti candy, 92
Vanilla almond cream, 92
Veal, 53
Warming over, 72
What to do with scraps, 45
Where to buy articles not in general
use, 112
Why meat does not brown in cooking, 62
Windsor pie, 36