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Transcriber’s note:
In the section Pickled nutmeg melons, melons change to
mangoes part way through, viz.
“Lay the _mangoes_ in strong brine for three days. Drain
off the brine and freshen in pure water for twenty-four
hours. “Green” as you would cucumbers—that is, have a
kettle lined with green vine leaves, and lay the _mangoes_
evenly within it, scattering powdered alum over the layers.
A piece of alum as large as a pigeon’s egg will be enough
for a two-gallon kettleful. Fill with cold water; cover
with vine leaves, three deep; put a close lid or inverted
pan over all, and steam over a slow fire five or six hours,
not allowing the water to boil. When the _mangoes_ are a
fine green remove the leaves and lay the melons in cold
water until cold and firm.”
This has been corrected.
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
MARION HARLAND’S COMPLETE COOK BOOK
[Illustration: MARION HARLAND]
MARION HARLAND’S COMPLETE COOK BOOK
A Practical and Exhaustive Manual of Cookery and Housekeeping
Containing Thousands of Carefully Proved Recipes—Prepared
for the Housewife, not for the Chef—and Many Chapters
on the Care and Management of the Home—the
Final Expression of Her
Life’S Experience
by
MARION HARLAND
Author of
Common Sense in the Household, Etc.
New Edition, Revised and Enlarged
Indianapolis
The Bobbs-Merrill Company
Publishers
Copyright 1903
The Bobbs-Merrill Company
June
Copyright 1906
The Bobbs-Merrill Company
March
Press of
Braunworth & Co.
Bookbinders and Printers
Brooklyn, N. Y.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
MARKETING 3
CARE OF HOUSEHOLD STORES 6
KITCHEN UTENSILS 9
CHEMISTRY IN THE KITCHEN 12
CARVING 15
SERVING AND WAITING 18
AMONG THE LINENS 23
THE CHILDREN 25
DIET AND DIGESTION 28
THE IMPROMPTU LARDER 32
FAMILIAR TALK
BREAKFAST 34
BREAKFAST FRUITS 38
BREAKFAST CEREALS 42
BREAKFAST BREADS 46
HOT BREAKFAST BREADS 54
QUICK BISCUITS 61
MUFFINS AND THEIR CONGENERS 63
WAFFLES 65
GRIDDLE CAKES 66
BREAKFAST BREADS OF INDIAN MEAL 71
DIVERS KINDS OF TOAST 75
EGGS 78
FAMILIAR TALK
WHO RULES THE HOME 89
FISH FOR BREAKFAST 93
FAMILIAR TALK
WHERE WE EAT 107
BREAKFAST MEATS 110
BREAKFAST BACON 110
TRIPE 114
BEEFSTEAK 116
KIDNEYS 118
SWEETBREADS 120
LIVER 122
CHICKEN 123
OTHER BREAKFAST MEATS 126
BREAKFAST GAME 129
BREAKFAST VEGETABLES 131
FAMILIAR TALK
WITH MARTHA IN HER KITCHEN 137
THE FAMILY LUNCHEON 143
LUNCHEON DISHES 145
FAMILIAR TALK
LIVING TO LEARN 183
CROQUETTES 188
WITH THE CASSEROLE 194
CHEESE DISHES FOR LUNCHEON 198
THE TOAST FAMILY 205
LUNCHEON VEGETABLES 207
SANDWICHES 214
TEMPTING PREFIXES TO LUNCHEON 221
SALADS 224
LUNCHEON FRUITS, COOKED AND RAW 241
SWEET OMELETS 247
FAMILIAR TALK
WITH THE NOMINAL MISTRESS OF THE HOUSE 249
LUNCHEON CAKES 258
FROSTINGS FOR CAKES 278
VARIOUS FILLINGS FOR CAKES 279
GINGERBREADS 281
SMALL CAKES 284
THE DOUGHNUT AND CRULLER FAMILY 292
FAMILIAR TALK
A FRIENDLY WORD WITH “OUR MAID” 296
DINNER 300
SOUPS 303
BISQUES 314
CREAM SOUPS 318
VEGETABLE SOUPS WITH MEAT 322
VEGETABLE SOUPS WITHOUT MEAT 328
FISH SOUPS 333
FISH 337
SAUCES FOR FISH AND MEAT 353
FAMILIAR TALK
IS IMPROMPTU HOSPITALITY A LOST ART 361
MEATS 367
BEEF 367
VEAL 377
MUTTON 385
MEAT AND POULTRY PIES 388
PORK 395
POULTRY 400
TURKEY 400
DUCKS 404
CHICKENS 405
GEESE 413
GAME 415
DINNER VEGETABLES 427
EVEN THREADED LIVING 498
SWEETS OF ALL SORTS 503
PIES 503
HOT PUDDINGS 518
BAKED PUDDINGS 528
FRITTERS 544
PANCAKES AND DUMPLINGS 548
SOME PUDDING SAUCES 551
COLD PUDDINGS AND CUSTARDS 555
WHIPPED CREAM DISHES 558
BLANC MANGE 563
FRUIT DESSERTS 576
ICE CREAM AND ICES 580
HOME-MADE CANDIES 590
AFTERNOON TEA 604
SOME DAINTIES FOR AFTERNOON TEA 610
FRAPPÉ BEVERAGES 614
WAFERS 616
STEWED FRUIT, PRESERVES, FRUIT JELLIES, ET CETERA 617
PICKLES 633
CATSUPS, ET CETERA 648
THE HOME BREW 652
FORMAL BREAKFASTS AND LUNCHEONS 663
CONCERNING DINNER GIVING 668
SOME STUDIES OF COLOR IN FAMILY DINNERS 673
AN EVENING RECEPTION AND CHAFING-DISH SUPPER 676
FAMILIAR TALK
COMMON SENSE AND “ETIQUETTE” 681
CANNED GOODS 684
“HANDY” HOUSEHOLD HINTS 693
FINAL FAMILIAR TALK
EMERGENCIES, BROKEN CHINA, ET CETERA 715
SOME CULINARY TERMS 719
FOR READY REFERENCE 724
INDEX 729
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
AFTER DINNER COFFEE IN A COZY CORNER 672
AFTERNOON TEA ON THE VERANDA 606
ANCHOVIES ON TOAST 464
BEEF, ROAST 380
BELGIAN HARE, ROAST 416
BEVERAGES 652
BIRTHDAY CAKE 520
BISCUITS, HOT 364
BRANDIED PEACHES, GARNISHED 628
BREAKFAST EQUIPAGE 36
CAKE, SLICED HOME-MADE 364
CALF’S HEAD, BOILED 380
CAVIAR TOAST, GARNISHED 222
CHEESE AND EGG ENTRÉES 202
CHICKEN PIE, SMALL 388
CHICKEN PIE IN SILVER STAND 388
CHICKEN OMELET 84
CHICKEN SALAD MANTLED WITH CREAM MAYONNAISE AND GARNISHED 232
CHICKEN, SCALLOPED 404
CHICKEN, SCALLOPED 126
COD, BOILED 344
COFFEE, CAPITAL CUP OF 364
COVERED CHEESE DISH FOR LIMBURGER 202
CRAB, SCALLOPED, IN SHELL 156
CREAMED MACARONI IN PINEAPPLE CHEESE SHELL 202
CROQUETTES 126
DAFFODILS 84
DINNER, A LITTLE 668
“DINNER, A PICK-UP” 364
EGGS 78
EGGS, BAKED 78
EGG OMELET 78
EGGS, STUFFED 202
ENTREES 126
FISH 100
FISH 344
FLOATING ISLAND 520-558
FONDU OF CHEESE 202
FRUIT SALAD, GARNISHED 232
FRUIT SALAD, IN BANANA-SKIN 232
GAME 416
GAME PIE IN NAPKINNED DISH 388
GRAPE FRUIT PREPARED FOR LUNCHEON 222
GREEN PEAS, GARNISHED 464
HALIBUT STEAK 100
HARLAND, MARION Frontispiece
ICE CREAM WITH HOT MAPLE SAUCE 582
INDIVIDUAL FLOATING ISLAND 558
IRISH STEW AND BROWNED POTATOES 364
LAMB CHOPS 126
LOBSTER CUTLETS AND WHIPPED POTATOES 156
MERINGUE GLACE AND WHIPPED CREAM 558
MOCK PIGEON 380
MOULD OF JELLY, GARNISHED 628
ORANGE MARMALADE 582
OYSTER COCKTAILS 222
OYSTER PATTIES 344
OYSTERS SCALLOPED 84
PAIR OF BOILED FOWLS, GARNISHED 404
PAIR OF ROAST DUCKS 404
PARTRIDGE, ROAST 416
PERCH, FRIED 100
PLUM PUDDING 520
POULTRY AND ENTRÉES 404
PUNCH, STRAWBERRY 628
QUAIL ON TOAST 416
RANGE SCREEN LOWERED TO SHUT IN HEAT 140
RANGE SCREEN PARTLY RAISED 138
SALADS 236
SALMON, BOILED 344
SANDWICHES
AFTERNOON TEA 582
BRUNETTE 216
CRESCENT 216
WHOLE WHEAT BREAD 216
SIDE-BOARD AND CHINA CLOSET 718
SMELTS, FRIED 100
SWEETBREADS, BRAISED 404
SWEETBREAD CUTLETS AND SARATOGA POTATOES 156
TABLES
AUTUMN DINNER 300
BRIDESMAID’S, WITH PINK ROSES 500
CHRISTMAS, DECORATED WITH HOLLY 300
DECORATED WITH PINE CONES 266
DECORATED WITH CHRYSANTHEMUMS AND PALMS 300
EASTER WEDDING BREAKFAST 266
ENGAGEMENT DINNER 500
JAPANESE DECORATIONS FOR CHILDREN’S LUNCHEON 266
SUNFLOWER LUNCHEON 500
A LITTLE DINNER 668
TOAST AND ANCHOVIES GARNISHED 464
TOMATO SALAD 236
TOMATO SALAD WITH WHIPPED CREAM DRESSING 236
TOMATOES, STUFFED AND GARNISHED 464
TROUT, FRIED 344
TURKEY, ROAST 404
VEAL AND BEEF 380
VEAL CHOPS AND SPINACH 380
VENISON, ROAST 416
WAFERS 616
WHIPPED CREAM 520
WHIPPED CREAM, GARNISHED WITH CHERRIES 558
WOODCOCK, ROAST 416
Marion Harland’s
Complete Cook Book
DEDICATORY PREFACE
_To My Fellow Housekeepers, North, East, South and West_:
Thirty-one years ago I wrote, dedicated to you, and sent to press,
COMMON SENSE IN THE HOUSEHOLD.
The daring step was taken in direct opposition to the advice of all who
knew my purpose. I was assured that I should lose the modest measure of
literary reputation I had won by novels, short stories and essays if I
persisted in the ignoble enterprise.
One critic forewarned me that “whatever I might write after this
preposterous new departure would be tainted, for the imaginative reader
and reviewer, with the odor of the kitchen.”
He may have been right. I do not know nor do I care whether his
judgment or mine was the better. I gave my first cook-book to you
because I knew from my own experience, as a young, raw and untaught
housekeeper, that you needed just what I had to say. The hundreds of
thousands of copies which have been sold, the thousands of grateful
letters received from my toiling sisters, testify to that need and that
to me was appointed the gracious task of supplying it.
Under the impulse of a conviction as solemn and as strong I offer you
now a work embodying the best results of mature Housewifery. Or, as
I would rather name it, Housemotherhood. Before I put pen to paper I
stipulated that the contract with the publishers of THE COMPLETE COOK
BOOK should contain a clause forbidding me to prepare and issue any
book of a similar character during the next ten years.
Whatever I have to say to you through the medium of a printed and bound
volume in all these years must be said here.
I have had this thought in my mind with the writing of every page. In
every page, in every line, in every word I have done my best to serve
you. I know you well enough to be assured that you will not forget
this. If such a thing might be I would have every dish compounded
according to my directions a souvenir to each of you of one who has
given thirty-odd of the best years of a busy life to the task of
dignifying housewifery into a profession, and ennobling the practice of
it in your eyes.
For the fair degree of success which has followed these efforts I am
thankful. Thankful, too, to those of you whose appreciation of my aim
and my work has held up weary hands and stayed the failing heart.
This talk, made purposely as “familiar” as if I were face-to-face with
each of you, is not a valedictory, but an _au revoir_. The book in your
hands contains the gleanings of an active decade. Housewifery keeps
pace with other professions in the swinging march of an Age of Wonders.
I have faith in it and in myself to believe that I shall go on with the
fascinating work of accumulating. I add, hopefully, I have also faith
in you that, in the future as in the thirty years overpast, you will
aid me in that accumulation.
MARION HARLAND.
[Illustration]
MARKETING
MUTTON and BEEF may be called the Marketer’s Perennials. They are in
season all the year round.
In buying mutton see that the fat is clear, very firm and white; the
flesh close of grain, and ruddy. Buy your meat fresh, even if you mean
to hang it in the cellar for a week—or longer in cold weather. “Begin
fair!”
The best cuts of mutton are loin, saddle and leg. French chops are cut
from the rib, the fat taken off and several inches of the bone cleaned
from meat. They are nice to look at, good to eat—and expensive. You can
do the trimming at home when you have once seen it done and save the
extra cent or two paid for the word “French.” Loin chops are cheaper
and usually more tender and better-flavored.
A more economical piece than the leg for the housewife who does her own
marketing is the fore-quarter. You can bone and stuff part of it for a
roast; the chops are almost as good as those cut from the loin, and the
bones, when removed, make good stock for broth. The meat is really more
juicy and sweet than that of the leg, and the cost from two to three
cents a pound less.
LAMB is in season from May to November. What is sold under that name in
winter is undersized mutton, and usually tough and dry.
BEEF—the Englishman’s main-stay—is quite as important in the American
kitchen. Seek, in purchasing, for rosy, red meat, “shot” with
cream-colored suet, dry and mealy, and a good outer coat of fat. Press
the meat hard with the tip of your thumb. If it be flabby, and, after
yielding to pressure, retains the dent, let it alone.
The rib roast is a choice cut. It is more comely when the bones are
removed, the meat rolled and bound into a round. In which case insist
upon having the trimmings sent home. You pay for them, and, when
you order soup-meat, for that as well. Have the bones cracked, buy
one pound of coarse lean beef for perhaps ten cents, and you have
foundation for a good gravy soup, or stock enough for several hashes
and stews.
The round costs about two-thirds as much as a rib-roast and half as
much as a sirloin, and serves admirably for _à la mode_ beef, or a
pot-roast.
The sirloin steak is far more economical than a porterhouse. Remove the
bone before cooking. This cut often contains really more of the coveted
tenderloin than the porterhouse, and the rest of the steak is more
tender, as a rule, than the dearer cut. Have the steak cut at least an
inch thick.
Summer FRESH PORK is less desirable than winter lamb. It should be
barred from the market after the first of May, and not allowed there
before December first, if then. The lean should be pink, the fat pure
white and solid, the skin like white, translucent parchment. That it is
cheap and “goes far” recommends it to many people.
The chine, the spare-ibiss and loin are the best cuts for roasting.
Pork chops are popular, and pork tenderloins much affected, even by
epicures. Children and invalids should never touch unsalted pork at its
best estate.
VEAL comes into market earlier than genuine spring lamb, and is
seasonable all the summer through. Be sure it is not that most
objectionable variety of what is rated by dieticians as a decidedly
objectionable meat—known in slang usage as “bob-veal.” No calf should
be slaughtered until at least six weeks old. The meat should be a
clear, pale red, the fat very white, the texture firm. Veal may be
innutritious, but the knuckle and, indeed, all the bony parts are
invaluable for soups, containing much gelatinous matter. The breast,
the fillet and loin are the most popular roasting pieces. Veal chops
are really better eating and cheaper than the cutlet, and should be
better known to the frugal housewife.
A calf’s head, scraped free of hair and well-cleaned, may be bought in
country markets for fifty cents, and can be made into a dainty dish fit
for John and John’s unexpected friend.
Sweetbreads are an acknowledged delicacy, and liver, properly cooked,
will be approved by all.
By the way, lamb’s liver costs less than calf’s liver, and is more
toothsome.
In choosing POULTRY, slip your bare forefinger under the wing where it
joins the body and press hard with the nail. If the skin breaks easily,
the fowl is probably young. Then try the tip of the breast-bone. If
the cartilage gives readily and springs back slowly, the signs are
still favorable. Next, look for hairs on the body and hard horny
scales on the legs; for scrawny necks and a livid hue in the flesh—all
unfavorable indications. Tough fowls should be cheaper far than tender.
If your market-man calls them frankly “fowls,” commend his honesty, and
if you contemplate a fricassee or chicken pie, reward his integrity by
a purchase. Chickens may be “fowls,” yet good,—that is, nourishing and
amenable to judicious “tendering.”
A veteran housewife, with a reputation to support, tells me she has but
one method of securing really excellent meats for her table: “When a
market-man sells me tough flesh, or superannuated poultry, or ancient
fish, I give him warning. At the second offense, I transfer my custom
to another dealer. The rule works well!”
It is especially useful when one would be certain of getting FRESH
FISH. Now that fish and oysters are bedded in ice until the wiliest
connoisseur may be mistaken in their age, it behooves the housemother
to know, first of all, that she is dealing with a man with a conscience
as free from reproach as she would have her halibut, salmon and
oysters.
CARE OF HOUSEHOLD STORES
APPLES, POTATOES, TURNIPS, CARROTS, BEETS, etc., if stored in bins or
barrels, should be picked over every week. The defective should be
thrown away, and if there be any sign of sweating, the good should
be spread out on the floor for a day or two to dry before they are
repacked. Fruit should be handled with care. Bruises are incipient
decay.
Particularly FINE FRUIT—apples and pears—should be wrapped, each
separately, in soft, unprinted paper and, when packed, covered with
fine, dry sand. Thus protected, they will keep plump and sweet for
months, and need no overhauling meanwhile.
When practicable, keep VEGETABLES in large quantities elsewhere than
in the cellar under your dwelling. Putrefying roots, cabbages and
apples were responsible for much of the winter and spring diseases that
puzzled our forefathers and mothers. Even now many a farmhouse reeks
with “cellar smells,” as subtile and dangerous as sewer gas.
Keep EGGS in a cool place, yet not where they will be liable to freeze.
If you store them in large quantities, pack in dry salt, the small end
down. As an additional precaution, grease the shells, and pour melted
lard upon the topmost layer of salt.
DRIED BEANS AND PEAS should be kept in wooden or tin boxes with close
tops.
Have canisters with tight lids for COFFEE AND TEA, and keep them shut.
Coffee loses strength and flavor when exposed to the air. Tea softens
and molds.
In buying CRACKERS give the preference to those packed in tin cases.
If they come in paper boxes, set these in tin receptacles, or in stone
crocks with snugly fitting tops. Never throw away a tin cracker-box. It
is always useful.
After CHEESE is cut, wrap in tin-foil, or in soft (unprinted) paper and
keep in tin, or in stoneware.
CRUSTS, BITS OF TOAST, BROKEN CRACKERS AND STALE SLICES of bread should
be kept in the kitchen closet until perfectly dry; then set in a
moderate oven for an hour before crushing them with a rolling-pin. Keep
these crumbs in a glass jar with a close top. They are invaluable for
breading chops and croquettes, and for scallops.
Brown FLOUR by the quantity, and when cool put into glass jars ready
for use.
SALT cakes and hardens in damp weather. Store it in your warmest and
driest pantry. In very wet weather mix a little corn starch with that
you put into the table salt-cellars.
FLOUR can not be kept too dry, nor can INDIAN OATMEAL, and all kinds
of SUGAR. PULVERIZED SUGAR is as susceptible to humidity as salt. Tin
boxes are absolutely necessary for keeping it tolerably free from lumps.
SPICES, PEPPER AND DRIED HERBS must also be shut up closely, and never
be kept in open receptacles. Some brands of BAKING-POWDERS actually
effervesce when exposed for days at a time to the open air. All are
injured seriously by such exposure.
For all these staples and ingredients, have closely-fitting lids—_and
keep them on_!
Store DRIED FRUITS in stone jars with covers; CANNED FRUITS AND PICKLES
in glass jars; tumblers of JELLY AND MARMALADE should be kept in the
dark. The light acts chemically upon the contents. If your storeroom be
light, wrap jars and tumblers in thick paper tied on with strings.
As soon as MEAT comes home from market remove every bit of the brown
paper enveloping it, and lay upon a clean dish near the ice—never upon
it. FISH does not suffer from contact with ice. Meat does, becoming
flabby and viscid. If your refrigerator is so arranged that you can
hang the meat up, that the air can get at all sides of it, it will keep
far better than when laid on a platter.
A good meat preserver is a box, as large as you can make room for in
the refrigerator, the top and bottom of which are of wood, the sides
of wire netting. Stout hooks are screwed into the inside of the top,
and one of the netted sides is hinged, like a door. MEAT hung in this
box will remain untainted and sweet much longer than when hung upon the
side of the refrigerator. If you have a cool cellar, keep the meat box,
thus prepared, upon a shelf in the darkest corner. The netting excludes
insects, yet allows the air to enter, and by drying the surface forms
an impervious coating which will keep in the juices.
Get large tin boxes for BREAD AND CAKE. Scald them frequently, drying
thoroughly in the sun, and have clean, dry cloths in which to wrap each
fresh batch of cake and baking of bread and biscuits.
It is an excellent plan to make cotton bags in which to put LETTUCE,
CELERY, TOMATOES, SPINACH and other green things you wish to store in
the refrigerator. The shelves and ice-box are kept clean, the esculents
fresh. Many housewives have adopted the expedient within a few years,
and none has abandoned it after a trial. The bags are of coarse, light
cotton cloth, or of cheese-cloth, and go into the weekly wash.
TABLE BUTTER, wrapped in dampened cheesecloth squares, keeps sweet and
firm. These squares are as large as a child’s pocket handkerchief, and
hemmed to prevent raveling. Half a dozen will last a year, unless the
“hired gurrel” takes them for dish-cloths.
BUTTER, made into balls for the table, should be kept in a bowl of cold
water in the refrigerator, and the water changed every morning.
Keep in your own mind, and so far as you can, impress upon the
conscience of servants, that whatever has been once in the refrigerator
must be returned to cold storage, unless used. Meats soften and taint,
butter turns rancid, fruits and vegetables decay when this precaution
is neglected.
KITCHEN UTENSILS
It is not my purpose to discourage the housewife by a list of culinary
furniture.
The readers of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” may recall that Mr. St. Clair
declared the evolution of irreproachable course dinners through such
means as his negro cook employed in a smoky little kitchen with scanty
store of pots and kettles—to be “nothing short of genius.” I have,
before now, visited kitchens environed with pot-closets, where hung a
glittering assortment of every conceivable patented “indispensable”—and
sat down in the dining-room to greasy, watery soups, scorched meats,
soggy bread and curdled custards.
It is well to have a plentiful supply of tools. If there be not sense
and skill behind them, failure is a foregone conclusion.
The object of this brief chapter is to tell our housemothers how to
keep such pots and kettles, griddles and pans in working order, and how
to make them last a reasonable time.
To begin with—get good ware. The clumsy iron vessels that gathered
grime and soot over the fires kept up by our grand-dames have been
pushed aside by lighter and cleaner utensils of various sorts.
Coppers—that must be as bright outside as they were within, and
gathered unto themselves murderous verdigris, if not cleaned before
each using, with salt and scalding vinegar—were banished, and
righteously, long ago, in favor of galvanized, porcelain, granite,
agate-iron and nickel-steel-plated wares that neither rust nor
green-mold. These wares are as easily kept clean as stone china, and
if less durable than iron and copper that descended from mother to
daughter and even down to the third generation, last reasonably well
when properly handled.
Pots, kettles and the like should be _set_ upon the range—not thumped
and banged. A nicked cooking utensil is a disgrace to the handler
thereof.
Cracks and scaling-off are still oftener the result of sudden
overheating and of allowing an empty vessel to stand over the fire. The
teakettle boils dry, the soup seethes and simmers until bones and meat
stick to the bottom of the pot. To complete the wreck, the ignorant or
indifferent cook snatches off the misused utensil and runs with it to
the sink, turning the cold-water faucet upon the heated metal. Yet the
mistress marvels at the semi-yearly necessity of replenishing kitchen
tools!
Never put away a vessel which is not both clean and dry. Wash with hot
water, good soap, and household ammonia. Use mop and soap-shaker, if
you would spare your hands and do justice to bottoms, seams and sides
of pot and pan. Rinse off the suds, wipe and set, upside down, upon the
range for thirty seconds to make assurance doubly sure.
Hang up everything that furnishes the semblance of a loop by which it
may be suspended. And always in its own place, so that you could find
each in the dark.
Cover the shelves of the crockery closet with strips of scalloped
oilcloth that come for the purpose, and the shelves on which you keep
metal pie-plates and pans with stout paper, pinked at the edges.
If you use tin milk-pans, have them seamless, scald daily with boiling
water into which you have stirred a little baking soda, rinse with pure
water and stand in the sun.
Wooden ware should be scrubbed with a clean, stiff brush and
soda-and-water, rinsed well, wiped and dried near the fire or in the
open window.
Buy three qualities of dish-towels—the finest for glass, silver and
china; the second best for crockery used in kitchen work; the third for
heavy kettles, griddles, etc., and have them washed every day. Even
when no grease adheres to them they have a musty odor if used several
times without washing.
Rub gridirons and griddles with dry salt before each using, wiping it
off with a clean towel.
Never undertake to polish your stove until it is quite cold, and do not
rekindle the fire too soon when the polishing is done.
Next to the range, or stove, the sink is the most important feature of
the kitchen.
“Let me see a woman’s sink, and I will tell you what sort of a manager
she is!” was the saying of a shrewd housemother who had seen much of
life and of cooks.
The waste-pipe should be flushed every day when the water in the boiler
is hottest. During the flushing two tablespoonfuls of strong ammonia
should be poured down the grating over the waste. Once a week in summer
add a handful of crushed washing-soda. And _keep the sink, itself,
clean all the time_!
Grease should never accumulate upon the sides and in the corners; tea
leaves and other débris never be clotted over the vent.
A stout whisk-brush must hang above the sink and be used freely in
scrubbing it. When the whisk becomes stained and flabby, burn it up and
get another. A dirty brush, mop or dish-cloth makes—not removes—dirt.
Follow these directions, and if the outer drain-pipes are properly
built, you will have no occasion to employ disinfectants and
deodorizers.
The old New England kitchen was the family sitting-room in winter, and
in thousands of farm-houses, this is still the custom. Since no device
can make the sink and its appurtenances ornamental, or passably comely,
have a tall folding screen that may be drawn in front of it when the
day’s work is done. The mistress who never sits in her own kitchen,
but wishes that her maids should have a pleasant resting-place in the
evenings, may offer the screen for their use. The better class of
“girls” will appreciate the kindly thought.
CHEMISTRY IN THE KITCHEN
Here again I shall be brief and practical. Nobody would read this
page were I to prate learnedly (apparently) of proteids, phosphates,
dextrine, hyposulphites and computed chemical and dietetic values. The
purpose of the honest cook-book is to help, not hinder.
A few facts relative to chemical effects and changes in every-day
cookery should be tabulated.
For example, the mission of the much-used and oft-abused bicarbonate
of soda—familiarly called “baking-soda”—is imperfectly apprehended
by those who handle it most frequently. The average cook does this
handling heavily. “Soda makes bread and biscuits rise,” is the sum of
her knowledge and the aim of her practice in this direction.
Soda should be measured as accurately as if it were a potent drug, and
never used except in combination with an acid. Even then, lean to the
side of mercy in measuring. One even teaspoonful of soda to two rounded
teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar, one even teaspoonful of soda to two
cupfuls of buttermilk, or “bonny clabber,” one even teaspoonful of soda
to one cupful (one-half pint) of molasses, cause what may be considered
an equitable effervescence, liberating gases that lighten dough and
batter without making them unwholesome. The “greeny-yellowy” streaks in
farmhouse quick biscuits are poisonous, but the alkali is not in fault.
Soda should never be driven in single harness.
The first stage of incipient decomposition is acidity. If, when a
slightly-suspected fowl or cut of meat is to be boiled or stewed, a
teaspoonful of soda be thrown into the pot as soon as the boil begins,
violent effervescence will attest the presence of the disturbing acid.
This subsiding will leave the meat free from unpleasant taint.
Beefsteak and chops, which are just a trifle “touched,” may be restored
to sanity by a bath of soda and water, well rubbed in. Butter that has
suffered in quality through the neglect of the maker in not working all
the milk out may be made tolerable for kitchen use by working it over
in iced water in which a little soda has been dissolved. After which
the butter should be wrapped in a salted cloth with a lump of charcoal
in the outer fold.
Ammonia is another beneficent agent in correcting natural or artificial
deficiencies. A bottle of household ammonia should be as invariably an
adjunct to the kitchen sink and that of the waitress’s pantry as the
soap-dish. It “kills” grease by a chemical combination with it, and
lends luster to silver by the same.
Dry soda, laid upon a burn or scald, heals, but not merely by excluding
the air. Flour would do that as well. The alkali acts directly upon the
decomposing skin and vitiated juices of the flesh. The sting of a bee,
wasp or hornet is formic acid; that of a mosquito something akin to it.
Ammonia, applied instantly, neutralizes the venom and eases the smart.
In the composition of salad dressing, stirring the oil, vinegar, salt,
pepper and dash of mustard together, long and skilfully, makes a
chemical emulsion smoother and more palatable than the hasty slap-dash
mixture too often served as “French dressing.”
Bread-dough which has begun to sour can be brought to terms by working
into the batch a little saleratus dissolved in boiling water, which is
then allowed to become lukewarm before it is kneaded faithfully through
the dough. A like solution should be beaten hard into griddle-cake
batter that has a pungent smell.
Vinegar and lemon juice are invaluable aids in the business of
“tendering” tough meats. Beefsteak, covered for some hours with vinegar
or lemon juice, and olive oil, is made eatable by the action of the
acid upon the fibers which are further “suppled” by the oil.
Vinegar put into the water in which a fowl or mutton is boiled will
serve the same purpose, and a dash of vinegar in boiling fish removes
the strong oily taste that would otherwise cling to it.
Powdered alum stirred into turbid water—an even tablespoonful to four
gallons—will cause a precipitate and a settlement. The clear water may
be drawn off cautiously and used for washing and even for drinking,
having no perceptible taste of the alum.
A bag of powdered charcoal sunk in a pork barrel will keep the brine
sweet through the winter, without blackening it or the meat.
Javelle water, invaluable for removing mildew and rust-stains, may be
made at home in the following manner:
Place four pounds of bicarbonate of soda in a large granite or
porcelain-lined can, and pour over it four quarts of hot water.
Stir with a stick until the soda has dissolved, add a pound of chloride
of lime and stir until this also has dissolved.
Allow the liquid to cool in the pan, strain the clear portion through
thin cloths into wide-mouthed bottles or jugs and cork tightly for use.
The part that contains the sediment may also be bottled and used for
cleaning sinks, kitchen tables, etc.
An excellent detersive for cleansing and sweetening a kitchen sink
is washing soda. Dissolve a couple of handfuls in hot water and when
boiling hot pour down the drain.
To prevent oil-lamps from smoking or giving forth a disagreeable odor,
boil the wicks in vinegar, then dry in the sun.
CARVING
The present mode of serving meats after the manner of the table
d’hôte—the carving done in the kitchen, and the results placed upon the
platter to be served to the guests by butler or waiter—has in large
measure done away with the demand for hints to the master or mistress
of the home upon the art of carving. To those who adhere to the earlier
custom, directions can be merely outlines; for the single means by
which one may become an adept as a carver is in the repeated practice
which is required for skill in any work of manipulation.
A prerequisite to carving is appropriate implements. The knife, the
edge of which has been dulled upon the bread-board, or hacked in the
offices of the kitchen, where it has been employed as the scullion’s
tool, may puncture and tear, but it will not carve. In the hand of even
the most skilful it is exasperation.
The mistress of the home owes it to the head of the table, as well as
to the ease of mind of her guests, to see that the carving set—the
knife and its companion fork—shall be in the best condition for their
work.
To carve a roast of beef
This will depend upon the form in which the roast is placed upon the
platter. If it include several ribs, furnishing sufficient room for
a base of bone, it may be so put before the carver that he may cut
perpendicularly in thin slices, passing the knife in a line parallel
with the ribs. If, however, the roast be laid upon the side, as is
usual, the same direction is to be observed as to the cutting in lines
parallel to the ribs.
Where a tenderloin roast is to be carved—having but the one large bone
which divides the tenderloin from the more solid portion—there is
little choice whether the knife is drawn with or transversely to the
grain: the tenderness of the meat is assured in either case. It may be
more convenient to sever entirely the tenderloin from the firmer part
of the roast before beginning to slice. This will leave the carver at
liberty to serve a portion of each quality of the meat to every guest,
as the tenderloin may not be of sufficient size to serve to all.
To carve a leg of lamb or mutton
If the small ribs—which are generally taken off for chops—are left
with the leg, the carver is free to ask the preference of each guest
for the rib or solid slice. The chops may be detached by drawing the
point of the knife between the ribs, and—if the butcher has properly
done his part—in severing the light cartilage at the backbone, as in
parting vertebræ. The fleshy portion of the leg will be more tender if
cut in slices at a right angle with the bone, as one would carve a ham;
that is, across the grain. Some carvers, however, prefer to cut lamb
or mutton with the grain, as it enables them to serve a portion more
or less thoroughly cooked, according to the preference of those to be
helped. These directions apply equally to carving a haunch of venison.
To carve poultry
The fowl—whether turkey, chicken or duck—should be placed on its
back upon the platter. This will permit the carver to transfix the
breastbone firmly with the fork; for, upon the stanchness of the hold
here will depend the success of all further operations. The wing
from the nearer side should first be dissevered by a gash of the
knife underneath the socket. This, if the fowl be tender, is easily
accomplished with a single cut. The first and second joints of the leg
may next be separated, and the second or upper joint removed from its
junction with the body, as was the wing. This is easily effected by a
slight cut and pressure of the bone outward. The sidebone may be taken
off by running the blade directly along the backbone; for it adheres
only by a filament of skin and the soft fat that attaches to it on this
line.
These joints having been taken off, the breast is now entirely exposed,
and further carving is a very simple matter. The removal of the leg
has laid bare the cavity, from which the dressing may be lifted with a
spoon, and the cutting of a few slices from the breast, near the neck,
will open the crop with the stuffing usually placed there to plump
the fowl. The main joint and the pinion of the wing may be severed by
cutting the cartilage at the junction of the two bones.
To carve fish
There is an art in carving fish, and it is confined to a single
direction. It is to open with a knife at the back, drawing the blade
the whole distance from head to tail just above the backbone, and
pressing the meat loose from its fastening. Portions may then be served
by cutting transversely with the backbone. Fish so carved is freed from
the intricate mass of small bones which are sure to mingle with the
flesh if it be cut in any other way. The head, if not already removed,
should first be taken off, and the collar or shoulder-bone lifted from
the fish.
SERVING AND WAITING
If a butler be engaged to do the family serving and waiting, he
understands his business, or he should not apply for the place. The
rules written out here are for the benefit of households where but one
or, at the most, two maids are kept. I assume that the waitress takes
charge of the table after the mistress has once shown her how it is to
be set.
By the way, I hope you call her a “maid,” not a “girl.” The latter
word has been so rubbed and soiled by persistent usage on the part of
domesticated foreigners, who shed the name of “servant” as soon as they
stamp upon American soil, and by the handling of would-be “genteel”
housewives, that people of refinement hesitate to touch it. What the
old-fashioned New Englanders called “hired help” would shake the dust
off the soles of the shoes they are not yet quite used to wearing, were
you to allude to them as “servants.” “Maid” sounds well, bearing to
their tickled ears a certain dignity not unsuited to their new estate.
Beginning with the first meal of the day, we will suppose a cereal,
fruit, one dish of meat, bread and butter, potatoes, hot muffins, tea
and coffee—a typical American breakfast, in fact.
A fruit-plate, holding a doily, on which is a finger-bowl half-filled
with water, cold in summer, tepid in winter, is set for each person. If
fruit that requires paring or cutting is to be eaten, lay a fruit-knife
on the plate. If oranges are served, add an orange-spoon. At the right
of the plate are the water tumbler, a knife, with the sharp edge toward
the plate, and a cereal-spoon, bowl upward. At the left should be the
bread-and-butter plate, the fork, tines upward, and a folded napkin.
In front of each plate are a pepper-cruet and a salt-cellar.
In the center of the board have a bowl of flowers, or something green
and growing, all the year round. At the foot, carving-knife and fork,
a steel or other “sharpener,” and a tablespoon; unless you have a
polished table, cover it with a neat breakfast-cloth, using napkins
(“serviettes”) to match. If your table-top be at all presentable, lay
a hemstitched or embroidered square of linen—sold as a “breakfast or
luncheon square”—in the center, and under each plate a doily of the
same style. A thick mat to protect the varnish against the heated
meat dish; a carafe, or glass pitcher, of ice-water on each side of
the table, and the tea and coffee equipage at the head, complete the
preparations for serving.
[Illustration]
The basket, or dish of fruit, is handed from the sideboard where
are arranged tablespoons, the glass or silver tub of broken ice to
replenish glasses, and, if there are no carafes on the table, a pitcher
of iced water, with a relay of knives and forks in case an extra supply
should be required on account of accidents.
At the last minute, before the mistress is told at the sitting-room
door that “breakfast is on,” the glasses are filled with iced water, a
firm ball of butter and a freshly-cut slice of bread are laid upon the
small plate at the left of each place.
When the family and guests are seated, the waitress, dressed in a neat
gingham or print gown, a clean apron, with _bretelles_, bib and full
skirt, and a white cap pinned above orderly hair (not used to cloak
unkempt elf-locks), passes the fruit basket or dish to the mistress of
the house from the left side; then to each person at table.
The fruit eaten, let the waitress, beginning as before, at the head
of the table, take from the right side of each person, plate, knife
and spoon in one hand, finger-bowl in the other, and remove to a side
table, or to the “waitress’s pantry,” where they are to be washed.
Never pile plates and saucers upon one another, or upon a tray. The
habit is slovenly and lazy. Still more displeasing is the scraping of
plates at the side table, or within hearing of the eaters.
If the cereal be cooked, it is usually served by the mistress of the
house. In this case set the hot dish upon a mat beside or before her,
when you have put a cereal saucer with a plate under it before each
person. Have a tray, with a napkin or doily within it, ready to receive
each saucer as it is filled; offer to the eaters from the left, and
when all are served pass sugar and cream on the tray.
When the cereal has been discussed, remove first the dish, then the
saucers, and bring in hot plates, quickly and dexterously setting one
before each person. They should have been warmed through slowly in the
kitchen, but not be so hot as to draw the varnish through the doilies.
Next set the dish of hot meat, chicken or fish, in front of the carver.
As each portion is laid upon a plate, the plate is set upon the tray
you hold. Taking the plate in your hand when you reach the mistress of
the house, set it down before her from the _right_.
There need be no confusion in this much-debated question of “left and
right” if the waitress will bear in mind one simple rule:
When plate, cup or other article is to be taken from the tray by the
eater, or he is to help himself from an offered dish, the waitress must
stand on his left, that he may use his right hand freely. What the
waitress puts upon the table with her own hand must be done from the
right.
For example, the plate with meat on it is set down from the _right_ of
the person who is thus served. He takes his cup of coffee and helps
himself to sugar and cream from the _left_.
[Illustration]
Before the waitress leaves the breakfast-room for the pantry, if she
does not remain throughout the meal, let her replenish glasses with
water and ice, pass bread or muffins a second time, and if cups are
emptied, offer her tray to take them back to the head of the table
to be refilled. Should she begin to wash plates and saucers in the
adjoining pantry to save time, let this be done very quietly. The
rattle of china is not a musical accompaniment to table-talk.
The manner of setting the table and waiting at luncheon is
substantially the same as at breakfast. Dinner demands certain
variations, while the general principles are the same.
The waitress of to-day has a dinner uniform, decorous in all, becoming
to a large majority of women. She wears a black gown, deep white cuffs
and collar, and an apron of finer material and somewhat more ornate in
fashion than in the forenoon.
Under the damask table-cloth is laid a covering of felt made for this
purpose—sold as “table-felt,” or a “silence-cloth.” The linen cover
lies more smoothly over this and appears to be of better texture
than when spread upon bare boards. Besides the damask table-cloth, a
“carving square” is laid at the foot of the table, and under it a thick
mat on which the hot dish may stand. On this are carving-knife, fork
and “steel;” also tablespoon and gravy ladle, leaving room between for
the large dish. A cold plate stands at each place, to be taken up when
the hot is set down by the waitress. At the right of the plate lie the
soup-spoon, bowl uppermost, two knives, edges turned toward the plate,
and a fish-knife (if there is to be fish) beyond the dinner-knives. A
tumbler for water, and, if wine is used, glasses for this, stand also
on the right, a little beyond the array of knives.
Some prefer to lay the soup-spoon at right angles to the knives, and
back of where the plate is to be.
At the left of the plate have two large forks; then one for fish, and
outside of this an oyster-fork, if there are to be raw oysters. The
napkin, folded flat, and inclosing a slice of bread, cut thicker and
narrower than for breakfast, lies also on the left.
Plates for the several courses are in array on the sideboard, except
such as must be brought hot from the kitchen. Salad plates and those
for dessert stand in order. Saucers for ices are set upon plates lined
with doilies. Fruit plates are also supplied with doilies, on which are
finger-bowls half-full of water.
A side table is reserved for vegetable dishes. They are not placed upon
the principal table now, even at the daily family dinner. Pickles and
olives are on the dinner-table; carafes of water, and always flowers.
Some housewives have soup served in hot plates directly from the
kitchen. If the tureen be used instead, the mistress preferring to
pour it out herself, have a carving-cloth at that end of the table
also. The soup ladle lies at her right. As she ladles out the soup
it is set on the waitress’s tray. She takes it off with her hand and
puts it from the right before any guest who may be present; then the
family in turn. At a dinner party, those on the right of the hostess
are served first. The soup-plate is set upon the cold plate in front of
the eater, and when removed is taken from the right, leaving the lower
stationary cold plate in its place, until the fish comes, when it is
exchanged for a hot one.
In clearing the table after each course the soup-tureen, and in its
turn the large dish at the foot of the table go out first, the soiled
plates afterward.
Before the dessert is brought in, crumb the table, using a clean folded
napkin, when you have cleared the cloth of salt, pepper, pickles, etc.
After the sweets comes the coffee. This is often sent to the guests
into the drawing-room. In this case, the waitress covers a large tray
with a white napkin, arranges the filled cups, smoking hot, upon it,
sets the sugar in the middle and takes the whole into the room where
the party is assembled.
Liqueur-glasses follow the coffee, and are also carried into
drawing-room or library. In announcing to the mistress, in sitting-room
or elsewhere, that a meal is ready, the waitress says, “Breakfast is
on,” or “Luncheon is ready,” or “Dinner is served”—according to modern
usage. One frightened unfortunate, on duty at a trial-dinner party,
filled the hostess with confusion, the guests with secret amusement, by
rattling off all three formulas in a breath.
It is impossible to write out rules that will meet every form and
exigency of “entertaining.” The hostess who, having mastered the
leading principles here given, trains her waitress into the daily
practice of them, insisting that her family shall be served three times
a day in the right order, and as punctiliously as if a state banquet
were the business of the hour, need fear no embarrassing “situations,”
no matter how large the number, nor how important the stations of her
guests.
AMONG THE LINENS
Everything commonly classed under this head should be carefully aired
before it is put away. Even when this duty has been conscientiously
performed, real linen, made of pure flax, has marvelous properties
for absorbing humidity. And humidity is the parent of that relentless
foe to housewifely peace—mildew. Table-cloths, napkins and linen
sheets that have been packed securely—as the owner supposed—in
closets, drawers and chests, sometimes present to our horrified eyes a
collection of small blotches, like dark freckles, and as ineradicable,
and the folds, when opened, smell musty. The walls of the closet were
not quite dry, or the chest has stood in a damp room, or the sideboard
drawers have gathered must in an unaired basement dining-room.
It is a matter of common prudence to overhaul the contents of linen
closets, and especially linen drawers and chests, once a month, if only
to make sure that the contents are keeping well. At the same time be on
the lookout for rents, broken threads and thin places.
Never buy cheap linen. If you can not afford the finest, you may secure
that which is “all linen,” round-threaded and evenly woven. A little
practice in the purchase of these treasures will initiate you into the
art of judicious choosing. Having bought good “material,” take care of
it. A break in a table-cloth or napkin, or towel, if neatly darned,
will give you several more weeks of wear out of it—perhaps months.
Hemstitched articles are liable to “give” first in the drawn work, and
a stitch here in time, saves ninety.
You may keep napery in drawers, if more convenient than elsewhere, or
upon shelves in a roomy sideboard. When at all practicable have a
light, airy closet for bed linen. My own linen-room, built to order,
has a southern window, unshuttered, through which the sun streams all
the afternoon on fine days. Except in wet weather this window stands
open for an hour of every day—not longer, lest dust should blow in.