It may be gathered from the two former papers, that I am not in
affluent circumstances; the intimation, therefore, that four distant
relations, occupying a sufficiently high position in society, intended
to dine with me, was received with a feeling the reverse of
pleasurable, both by myself and my single servant. The dining-room and
its table were so very small, that I never gave even family dinners.
Rose had no idea of waiting; and, moreover, to cook and wait at one
and the same time, is by no means an easy task for any one. I could
not bear the idea of hired waiters and cooks, and the attendant noise,
fuss, and expense. What was to be done? I thought over my dinner, but
there was no room to place it on my small table, and the apartment
would not hold a larger one conveniently. Rose could cook two dishes
very well for my solitary self, but how were her unpractised powers
equal to sending up a dinner for five persons, two of them men! It
never struck me that Madame Miau could help me in this particular
dilemma; nevertheless, as I wished to consult her about a sauce, I
unconsciously unfolded my cause of annoyance.
'I see no difficulty at all,' said the worthy widow; 'and if you will
only let me manage for you, I will answer for its all succeeding _à
merveille_; but it must be _à la Française_.'
'But the fish?'
'Oh, your fish shall come first; _soyez tranquille_.'
'Anything you please, then,' answered I, gaining comfort from her
easy, confident manner. I resolved to follow her instructions
faithfully; for I was persuaded somehow that, whether she managed well
or ill, her plan would probably be better than mine, and the result
shewed I was right.
In the middle of the table, fresh flowers in a valuable china bowl did
duty as an epergne; port and sherry--the only wines I would, or,
indeed, could present--stood at each corner; and round the bowl the
little dessert, tastefully decorated with leaves, looked well,
although consisting only of common dried fruits, preserved ginger,
oranges, and cakes. But the plate was bright, the crystal clear, the
table-cloth and napkins of the finest damask, and there was abundance
of room for sauces, glasses, plates, and all the little things we
might happen to require. As the company consisted of my private
friends, not inhabitants of our town, Madame Miau herself--attired in
a Bolognaise cap, long gold earrings, cross, fluted lace tucker up to
her collar bones, and black silk gown--condescended to wait upon and
carve for us. She had each dish and its proper accompaniments brought
by Rose to the side-table, where all was neatly divided into portions,
and handed round, one dish at a time, hot from the fire. We had,
first, ox-tail soup; second, fried soles; third, oyster _patés_;
fourth, Maintenon cutlets and cauliflower; fifth, roast lamb and
potato-ribbons; sixth, pheasant, with both bread-sauce and toast.
Tartlets and creams followed, and a cream-cheese finished the repast;
then we were left to our dessert and conversation, the latter of which
we soon resolved to terminate with our coffee in the drawing-room,
where a purer atmosphere awaited us. All went off quietly and
comfortably; no noise, no bustle, no asking will you have this or
that; everything was brought round without questioning, and
conversation was never for an instant interrupted. My fastidious
cousin, Jack Falconbridge; his foolish fine-lady sister; her
common-place lord; and her 'talented and travelled friend,' Miss
Scribbleton, expressed themselves equally pleased, although there was
nothing _recherché_, nothing expensive, nothing extraordinary. At the
rich Mr Goldscamp's, where they had dined the day before, things were,
they all agreed, very far inferior. Five or six inexperienced young
footmen jostled against each other, whilst rushing about with sauces
and condiments; the table groaned under a gorgeous display of plate,
and loads of unnecessary glass and china.
'I was,' said Miss Scribbleton, 'really quite afraid to move, lest I
should overturn or break something, and felt like a bull in a
china-shop.'
'The cookery,' continued the Honourable John, 'was atrocious;
everything half cold, and we rose hungry, to partake of watery coffee
and lukewarm tea.'
'Ah!' sighed his sister, 'I was bored to extinction by everything and
every person.' And then followed compliments to me upon my little
unpretending entertainment, which I felt were sincere, for everything
was good of its kind, and I presented nothing that Rose could not cook
perfectly under Madame Miau's directions, except the soup and _patés_,
which the pastry-cook supplied--all was hot, and all was quiet.
I have forgotten in the above enumeration the crowning dish of all,
the Braousa, which drew down applause from the company; the
Mayonnaise, in short, which Madame Miau concocted with her own hands.
Every one thinks they can make the Mayonnaise sauce, because they find
the ingredients given in various treatises upon cookery; but there is
a secret, gastronomic reader, a very simple one; and this small secret
I shall now unfold, by which, if you try, you will see that oil,
vinegar, and egg, end in a very different result than when the usual
mode of mixing them is employed. But ere I enlighten you, let me
suggest to the Mesdames Jones and Thompsons, who will persist in
giving dinners with few servants and small means, that if they adopt
the above plan, they will better content their company, to say nothing
of saving their money, than by pursuing the accustomed mode of killing
off their acquaintance--namely, a huge 'feed' dressed by a common
cook, and served by hired waiters, who, scuffling amongst strange
plates and glasses, invariably crack many and break some.
_A Mayonnaise._--Beat the yolk of a large quite freshly-laid egg,
adding a little salt, with a teaspoonful of lemon juice: use a flat
dish and a silver fork, and beat them thoroughly well together. Then
take nearly a pint of the finest Lucca oil, which has been kept well
corked from the air, and drop _one_ drop. Keep beating the egg all the
time, and add another drop--drop by drop at a time: it will take half
an hour to do, and must be so thick as to require to be lifted by a
spoon. Prepare your cold meat, lobster, chicken without skin, veal, or
rabbit. Cut all in neat pieces, and set them round the centre of your
dish; then take the very inside hearts of two or three cabbage
lettuces, which have been well crisped in cold water, and place them
round the meat. Cut two hard-boiled eggs in quarters, and some
beet-root in strips, and place them tastefully, contrasting the
colours. Now, with a spoon cover all with the sauce, laid on thickly,
and upon it an anchovy cut in strips. Finish off with a nasturtium at
the top, and also a row all round the outward edge.
Several days having elapsed since I had seen the friend in need, who
had proved to me a friend indeed so lately, I went to ascertain
whether her unusual exertions of body and mind had not made her ill,
but was happy to find her in perfect health, seated at dinner with a
very fine gentleman, all curls, compliments, gilt chains, and
earrings, whom she introduced as 'Mon neveu Antonio'--the son of her
husband's sister, who had married an Italian, and who, like his
father, was at once cook and courier. Their dinner consisted of the
following _friture_, from M. Antonio's own private recipe-book: Have
ready, half-cooked, _1st_, thin slices of calves' liver; _2d_,
artichokes cut in half quarters or quarters, according to their size;
_3d_, cauliflower--only the _flower_, divided in small pieces; _4th_,
calves' brains, previously soaked in salt, vinegar, and water, for
twenty-four hours, cut in little bits: make a light batter, and fry
each separately of a golden brown in the right order, having the dish
in which they are to be served on a hot hearth. Cover the dish with
the liver, then the artichoke, then the brains, and, lastly, the
cauliflower, each distributed so as to decrease towards the top, which
is covered with a larger sprig of cauliflower.
Madame Miau fried beautifully, and, under her nephew's directions,
tried a pretty dish I had never before heard of--namely, the flower of
the cucumber-plant, or vegetable mallow--which is usually, and, I
believe, incorrectly, called marrow--nipped off with the little fruit
attached to it. It was dipped in butter, fried lightly, and served
quite hot.
Creams are very good, made according to the following simple,
inexpensive recipe, which is just enough to fill twelve small cups or
glasses. Take good milk sufficient to fill them, and boil it with two
ounces of grated chocolate, and six of white sugar; then beat the
yolks of six eggs, to which add slowly the chocolate-milk, turning
steadily one way. When quite mixed, pass the whole through a search,
fill your cups, and, if you have not a regular _bain-marie_, a flat
sauce-pan will do, filled to a proper height, so as not to overtop the
creams, and which must continue boiling a quarter of an hour. For a
change, instead of the chocolate, boil the milk with a pod of
_vanille_ broken in pieces, or any other flavour you may fancy.
_Spinach Cream._--Boil your spinach, and let it thoroughly drain in a
cullender; then press it through a hair-sieve with a spoon, as for
food. Take the pulp that has been pressed through the sieve, and mix
it with cream, or very good milk, and two additional yolks of eggs.
Pass the yolks of six eggs through a sieve, add six ounces of white
sugar in powder, and two table-spoonfuls of trebly-distilled orange
flower-water, and, as before mentioned, place the cups in a
_bain-marie_ for a quarter of an hour.
I requested the good-natured nephew to dress me a dish of macaroni,
which he did as follows, one of his many modes of preparing it: He
boiled it till just tender, and no more. The English cook it too much,
he said. When drained, he grated a sufficient quantity of both Gruyère
and Parmesan cheese, and alternately put upon the dish, first
macaroni, and then cheese, finishing with the cheese. Over this he
poured strong beef-gravy, in which some tomatoes had been dissolved,
and put it a few minutes in the oven, and then a few more before the
fire in a Dutch oven; but he preferred a hot hole, and to cover it
with a _four de compagne_, or cover upon which you place hot embers.
He also assured me the following sauce was better even than the
beef-gravy:--
_Tomato Sauce._--Warm your tomatoes until you can skin them; beat the
pulp with finely-grated ham, onion, parsley, thyme, salt, and Lucca
oil, all as small as possible; pass through a sieve, and pour over
your macaroni. Serve hot.
Tomatoes are good skinned, the seeds taken out, and with a little
butter and finely-chopped herbs, beaten into a paste with eggs, and
fried in a light batter.
_Fried Asparagus._--Do not boil it too much, but enough to cut in
pieces and pass through a sieve; mix this with grated ham and Parmesan
cheese, and with butter make it into a paste of good consistency,
which fry in a light batter. Celery is also very nice treated in the
same way. As I like butter, as the French do, without any salt at all,
I found much difficulty in keeping quite sweet what a farmer
obligingly so prepared for me. Without water, it got bad. Made into
pats, and kept in water, it lost flavour; but Madame Miau soon put me
upon a plan by which it remained for ten days as if new churned. As
soon as I received my quantum, I had it well washed in spring-water,
for sometimes the milk had not been taken clean out of it; and then it
was put down with a spoon in a salad bowl, to which it adhered. Every
morning, fresh water, in which was dissolved a little salt, was poured
upon it, and the top _curled_ off for use with a tea-spoon or a small
shell. To the very last, it was sweet and tasteless; and I consider
this a very valuable hint, in hot weather especially.