I have no hesitation in saying that my recipe for Welsh Rabbit is the
best yet invented. It has an international reputation. It has been
eaten with gusto by Russians, Turks and some Englishmen who, strange
to say, are distinguished _gourmets_. There have been Frenchmen who
were too reserved, perhaps, in their praise of it, but then it must
be remembered that Welsh rabbit is not sympathetic with the Gallic
temperament. The French prefer _timbales de fromage_.
Put a large chafing dish over the hot water pan in which the water
must be boiling. Never let the temperature of the heat change for a
moment; therefore a big alcohol lamp is preferable. Grate ordinary
cheese or cut it into the shape of dice. Drop in a lump of butter
of the size of an English walnut. Pour into the pan a pint of near
beer or near Budweiser. Slightly heat it. In the old days musty ale
was everything. To-day the symbol of beer is almost sufficient. Drop
in a half teaspoonful of strong red pepper and then a tablespoonful
of paprika,—paprika being merely a flavor and not a condiment. Keep
the beer hot; then drop two tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce, a
tablespoon of catsup and a half teaspoon of mustard. When this mixture
boils, put in the cheese and stir in one direction until the mixture
assumes the consistency of cream.
Use the thick plates sold in the department stores especially for Welsh
Rabbit. Have them heated so that the cheese will sizzle when it touches
them. Have ready a sufficient number of pieces of toasted bread, the
crust carefully cut off. When the cheese is sufficiently plastic, dip
a round of toast into it, let it remain for a second, transfer it to
the hot plate and _at once_ ladle the mixture in the pan over the toast
with neatness and dispatch and you will have an unprecedented success,
if no conversation is permitted until the rabbit is eaten. The sound
of a human voice lowers its temperature. Coffee or tea must never
be partaken of until the morsels are disposed of. During the eating
process, Budweiser is a substitute for the real thing—which was musty
ale or the Dog’s Head variety.