eggs beaten light, yolks and whites separately, then half a teaspoonful
of ground mace or of nutmeg. Have ready three cupfuls of flour sifted
twice with one teaspoonful of baking-powder, and work into the mixture
until you can roll out the dough.
Cut round with a tin cutter; wash the tops lightly with white of egg;
press half of a split blanched almond into the center of each, and
sprinkle well with coarse granulated sugar.
This is the “sand.”
Bake quickly.
Peanut cookies
One cupful of butter; one and one-half cupfuls of powdered sugar; three
eggs; one cupful of freshly roasted peanuts, pounded, rolled to a
coarse powder, and mixed with about three cupfuls of flour.
Cream the butter and sugar, add the beaten eggs, then the flour and
crushed peanuts. The dough should be just stiff enough to handle
easily. Drop the dough by the spoonful upon a floured board, pat it
into round cakes with the fingers, grate a little nutmeg over the top
of each cake and bake. A novelty, and one that is likely to be popular.
Alma’s drop cakes
Beat five eggs light—yolks and whites separately. Into the yolks stir
a cupful of powdered sugar, the juice of a lemon and half the grated
peel—then the stiffened whites of the eggs. Sift together a heaping
cupful of flour and a teaspoonful of baking-powder, and beat this
into the other ingredients. Line a hot buttered pan with thick writing
paper, well buttered; drop the batter by the spoonful upon the paper,
and bake at once in a quick oven. Sift powdered sugar over them while
hot.
Vanilla cookies
Cream one cupful of butter with two of sugar, and stir in a cupful of
sour cream, two beaten eggs and three cupfuls of flour sifted twice
with a teaspoonful of soda. Flavor with vanilla extract. If your dough
is not stiff enough to handle, add more sifted flour until it is of the
right consistency. Roll into a sheet about a quarter of an inch thick,
cut into rounds and bake.
Cocoanut cream puffs
These cakes, while requiring care in their preparation, amply repay one
for the time spent in their making.
Into a cupful of hot water stir a half-cupful of butter and bring to
a boil. Then add a cupful and a half of flour, and cook (stirring
constantly) for two minutes; take from the fire and pour into a bowl to
cool. When the mixture is cold beat into it the whipped yolks of four
eggs; lastly, the stiffened whites. Line a baking pan with buttered
paper; drop the batter by the large spoonful upon it, and bake in a
quick oven. The puffs should be done in fifteen minutes. When they are
cold cut off the tops, fill with the following mixture and replace the
tops.
Filling
Into two cupfuls of thick whipped cream beat a cupful of grated
cocoanut, half a cupful of powdered sugar and a teaspoonful of extract
of bitter almonds. Whip up hard before putting into the puff shells.
Molasses cookies
Warm a cupful of molasses slightly and beat to a cream with half
a cupful of softened butter. Add the juice of half a lemon, one
tablespoonful of ginger and half a teaspoonful of cinnamon.
Now stir in two cupfuls of flour sifted three times with an _even_
teaspoonful of baking-soda, until you have a soft dough. Roll out and
cut into shapes. Bake in a good oven.
Ginger jumbles
Into two cupfuls of molasses stir a cupful of melted butter, a
teaspoonful of ground cinnamon, a tablespoonful of pulverized ginger,
and a half a teaspoonful of baking-soda. Beat well, add enough flour to
make a soft dough, form with floured hands into small cakes and bake.
Gingersnaps (No. 1)
One cupful of sugar, one cupful of butter, one tablespoonful of ginger,
one teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a little water, as much flour as
can be stirred in with a spoon—not kneaded. Pinch off a bit of the
dough the size of a large marble, roll in the hands until round, pat it
flat and place in a pan, leaving between each cake space for spreading;
bake in a good oven to a moderate brown. Leave in the pan until
sufficiently cool to be “snappy.”
Gingersnaps (No. 2)
Cream a cupful of butter with one of sugar, beat in a cupful of
molasses, stir in a cupful of water, a teaspoonful each of ground
ginger and cinnamon, a teaspoonful of allspice and a scant one of soda
sifted with a pint and a half of flour. Add enough flour to make a
dough that can be rolled out, roll thin, cut into rounds, and bake.
Pfeffernüsse
(A German recipe.)
One pound of fine flour, sifted; one teaspoonful of baking-powder;
one pound of sugar, sifted; four large eggs; three ounces of citron;
the grated rind of one lemon; one grated nutmeg; one teaspoonful
of cinnamon; one scant teaspoonful of ground cloves. Mix the
baking-powder and spices and sift with the flour, then work in the
beaten eggs and sugar; form into small balls and bake in a slow oven.
Place in a pan sufficiently far apart to allow them to swell to the
size of macaroons when baked.
White peppernuts
Cream one and a half cupfuls of granulated sugar and a half-cupful of
butter together, add three eggs, beaten light, a half cupful of milk,
two teaspoonfuls of vanilla extract, and flour sifted with two even
teaspoonfuls of baking-powder. Add this flour until stiff enough to
roll out; roll a half inch thick, cut out with a thimble and bake in a
hot oven. Care should be taken to put them so far apart that they will
not run together in the baking.
Brown peppernuts
Three eggs; one cupful of brown sugar; a half-cupful of butter; one
cupful of molasses; a half-cupful of sour or buttermilk; a teaspoonful
of baking-soda; a scant teaspoonful of cinnamon and ginger, and flour
enough to handle. Mix, roll out and bake as you would white peppernuts.
Peppernuts (No. 4)
Mix together half a pound of powdered sugar, the yolks of two eggs, one
whole egg and a quarter-teaspoonful of potash procured from a druggist.
Stir this well for fifteen minutes; add a quarter-ounce of ground
cinnamon, a quarter-teaspoonful each of ground pepper and cloves, and
the grated rind of a lemon. When all is well mixed, put with it half a
pound of pastry flour. Knead well on a floured board, roll out about
half an inch thick and cut into small rounds with a biscuit cutter.
Bake in a greased tin in a very moderate oven.
Peppernuts (No. 5)
Sift together two cupfuls of sugar, four cupfuls of flour, one
tablespoonful of cinnamon, half a tablespoonful of cloves, and one
and a half teaspoonfuls of baking-powder. Add to this half a cupful
of citron, chopped fine; the grated rind of a lemon and a quarter of
a nutmeg. Make to a dough with four eggs beaten enough to mix yolks
and whites. Shape into balls the size of a hickory-nut, with buttered
hands, and bake in pans lined with greased paper. When done, cover with
an icing.
Icing for peppernuts
Into two tablespoonfuls of boiling water stir enough confectioner’s
sugar to make it thick. Flavor with lemon juice and a little of the
grated rind. The icing should be of the right consistency to be applied
with a pastry brush. Let the cakes stand in a cool, dry place until the
icing has hardened.
Vanities (No. 1)
Beat two eggs; stir in a pinch of salt and a half-teaspoonful of rose
water; add sifted flour until just stiff enough to roll out. Cut with
a cake-cutter and fry quickly in hot cottolene or other fat. Sift
powdered sugar on them while hot, and when cool put a teaspoonful of
jelly in the center of each.
Vanities (No. 2)
Boil a cupful of milk and thicken it in the saucepan with flour to a
stiff dough. Let it become cool, then break in three eggs, one at a
time, and beat thoroughly. Add a tablespoonful of melted butter. Drop
it by small teaspoonfuls into hot cottolene or some good fat, fry to a
delicate brown; drain and roll in a mixture of sugar and cinnamon.
Anise cakes
Cream a half-pound of butter with a half-pound of sugar, add three
well-beaten eggs and enough flour to make a stiff dough, adding to the
flour an ounce of anise seed. Roll into a thin sheet, cut into shapes
with a cutter and bake.
Hermits
Cream together a cupful of butter and two of sugar. Beat in the whipped
yolks of three eggs, add a half-cupful of milk and then the beaten
whites. Work in two cupfuls of flour, sifted twice with a teaspoonful
of baking-powder, and if this does not make a dough that could be
rolled out, add more flour cautiously, not to have the cakes too
stiff. Roll into a _very_ thin sheet, strew thickly with the kernels
of hickory-nuts, pecans or English walnuts, chopped fine and sprinkled
with sugar. Fold the dough once over the nuts, passing the rolling-pin
lightly over the upper sheet, and cut into rounds with a cake cutter.
Bake in a quick oven, covered, for fifteen minutes; uncover and brown.
Plain cookies
(Contributed)
Cream together one cupful of butter and two cupfuls of sugar. Add
one egg, well beaten, one cupful of milk, three teaspoonfuls of
baking-powder and flour enough to make a soft dough. Roll thin, cut in
small cakes and bake in a moderate oven.
Eggless cookies
(Contributed)
Cream one cupful of butter and add one cupful of sweet milk, one
teaspoonful of vanilla, and one teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a
little warm water. Use flour enough to make a soft dough. Cakes made by
this recipe will keep fresh for a long time.
THE DOUGHNUT AND CRULLER FAMILY
These crisp and toothsome dainties may be made several weeks before
they are needed, as they improve with age. Keep them in a stone crock,
or large tin cracker-box with a closely-fitting cover. As you pack
than down, sprinkle each layer with powdered sugar.
Have a large quantity cut out before you begin the work of frying, for
when the fat has attained the proper state of heat you will not want
to set it to one side to cool while you roll out another batch of the
small cakes. Of course, crullers and doughnuts do not really taste
better when cut into various shapes, but, since John and the boys fancy
that they do, the mother will do well to indulge the innocent notion
and to twist and turn the raw dough into fantastic and attractive forms.
Heat the cottolene or other fat used for frying gradually until so
hot that a piece of the dough used as a test will rise to the surface
at once, swell immediately and brown quickly. As the doughnuts brown,
remove them from the kettle with a perforated spoon and lay in a
colander, set at the side of the stove, to drain free of grease.
Transfer to a platter, and while hot, sprinkle with sugar.
Quick doughnuts
Cream one cupful of sugar with half a cupful of butter, add one cupful
of milk, two eggs, beaten light, one tablespoonful of cinnamon and
nutmeg mixed, and two cupfuls of flour into which has been sifted a
heaping teaspoonful of baking-powder. Work in enough flour to make a
soft dough. Roll out into a sheet nearly an inch thick, and cut into
shapes with a cutter. Fry in deep cottolene or other fat.
Sour milk doughnuts
Cream a cupful of butter and two cupfuls of sugar; add four beaten
eggs, a half-pint of sour milk, a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a
little boiling water, a teaspoonful each of nutmeg and cinnamon, and
enough flour to make a dough that can be rolled out. Roll and cut into
shapes. Fry in deep, boiling cottolene or other fat, which has been
heated slowly.
Mother’s doughnuts
Cream a generous half cupful of butter with two cupfuls of sugar; add
three well-beaten eggs, a cupful and a half of milk, and _about_ five
cupfuls of flour, which has been sifted with three teaspoonfuls of
baking-powder. Add this flour gradually until you have enough to make a
dough that can be rolled out, as it may not take the full amount. Roll
out, cut into rounds, drop into boiling cottolene or other fat and fry
to a golden brown. Drain in a colander, and while hot sprinkle with
powdered sugar.
Ideal crullers
Rub together a half-pound of butter and three-quarters of a pound of
powdered sugar. When you have a soft cream, work in gradually six
beaten eggs, a half-teaspoonful each of nutmeg and cinnamon, and by
the handful enough flour to enable you to roll out the dough. Avoid
getting it too stiff. Roll into a very thin sheet and cut into rings.
The centers of the rings make pretty little marble-shaped crullers. Fry
in deep boiling cottolene or other fat, which has been heated slowly.
Mary’s crullers
Rub half a pound of butter to a cream with three-quarters of a pound of
pulverized sugar. Beat in the yolks of five eggs, whipped smooth; add
an even teaspoonful of mace and cinnamon mixed, lastly the stiffened
whites of the eggs, alternately with enough flour for a stiff dough.
Begin with two cupfuls (sifted). Roll out, cut into fancy shapes
and set in a cold place for an hour before frying in deep, boiling
cottolene or other fat.
Buttermilk crullers
Into a cupful and a half of granulated sugar rub three-quarters of a
cupful of butter, add two eggs, half a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in
a tablespoonful of hot water, and a cupful and a half of buttermilk.
Now sift in enough flour to make a tender dough, roll out and fry.
Sunnybank crullers
Rub together four tablespoonfuls of butter and a generous cupful of
powdered sugar; add to the cream thus made half a teaspoonful of
powdered cinnamon and beat it in thoroughly. Now add four well-beaten
eggs, and whip long and hard. Last of all, sift in very gradually
enough flour to make a stiff dough. Roll this out and, with a fancy
cake-cutter, cut it into small ornamental shapes. The bits of dough
left over may be gathered up, put together and rolled out again, then
cut into strips and small squares. After the crullers are cooked and
drained free of fat, spread them upon a platter and sprinkle with
powdered sugar and cinnamon in the proportion of a teaspoonful of the
spice to half a cupful of sugar.
Date crullers
One cup of butter, one and one-half cups of sugar, three eggs. Beat all
to a cream. Add one teaspoonful of cinnamon, one of cloves, a cupful
of walnut meat in rather large bits; one pound of seeded dates chopped
fine; three and a half cupfuls of flour. Mix well, roll into a sheet
and cut into shapes. Set in a cold place for an hour and fry in deep
fat.
FAMILIAR TALK
A FRIENDLY WORD WITH “OUR MAID”
To begin with—I wish I could devise some method of convincing you that
I am really and truly “friendly.”
A newspaper article I have just read says, “It can not be denied that
the present attitude of American mistress and maid is, at best, one of
armed neutrality.”
Put into everyday English, that means that each is willing, if
convenient, to get along comfortably and pleasantly with the other,
but that each holds herself ready to fight, if fighting seems to be
advisable.
This “attitude” is all wrong, through and through. I should like to
change it in your mind before I begin to talk with you.
The best and most wonderful Book ever written tells us that the men
who, once upon a time, built the ruined walls and temple of Jerusalem,
held a trowel, or spade, or hammer in one hand, and a sword or spear in
the other, because their enemies were lying in wait, watching for an
opportunity to attack them. We are not surprised to read in the same
chapter that these enemies laughed at the sort of work done under such
circumstances. They said, “If a fox go up, he shall even break down
their stone wall.” Two hands are better for doing work than one; two
heads are better for planning work than one; two hearts at peace with
each other are the greatest possible help to head and hands.
Take it for granted when you take a place that your employer is
friendly to you. Don’t look upon her as a possible enemy. When she
trusts you to handle delicate china, take care of handsome furniture
or to cook materials for the meals she and her family are to eat, she
shows that she has confidence in your ability and your honesty. When
she entrusts her little children to your care, she proves this yet more
plainly. After inquiring into your character and manner of work, she is
so far satisfied that you are just what she wants that she has received
you into her house and, in one sense, into her family. She trusts you,
then. Trust her, until she gives you very plain proof that she does not
deserve your trust.
For the first month, at least, make up your mind to look on the bright
side of everything, instead of asking yourself every hour, “I wonder if
I can stay?” That same “wondering” unsettles more maids and prejudices
more mistresses’ minds against well-meaning domestics than any other
one thing. Make allowances for your employer’s awkward ways of giving
orders; for her little “tempers,” that may be awkwardness, too, and a
sort of bashfulness you do not understand, but which is not uncommon.
More than one well-educated, refined woman has confessed to me that she
was “awfully afraid of every new maid.” Some of us have reason to be.
Bear in mind, if your new “lady” seems stiff, and, maybe, distrustful
of you, that she may have had ugly experiences with some maid who went
before you, one of the maids “who spoil places for other girls.”
I wish you could make a resolution—and keep it—not to discuss the
mistresses you have had, and especially the mistress you have now,
with other maids, in and out of the house which is your present home.
I am sorry to be obliged to say that the practice of talking of the
hardships of her place is our maid’s most common and incorrigible
habit. So common is it that I have wondered sometimes if it were not
considered a part of the duty she owes to herself and her companions
who are making their living in the same way as herself. If you could
once determine that your employer is your friend, that her interests
are yours, and that you will make your “place” into a real home, where
you may spend years, perhaps the rest of your life—you would not be
tempted to magnify the work you have to do, the things you have to put
up with—the thousand and one complaints that form so large a part of
the talk “downstairs.” If you are so unfortunate as to take service
with a bad-tempered, bad-mannered, bad-hearted woman, whose only reason
for thinking herself better than you is that she has more money,
quietly leave when your month is up. That is the only dignified thing
to do. Don’t spoil your temper by fighting her, and waste your breath
and time by gossiping about her to your acquaintances.
If, on the other hand, you have an employer who honestly tries to
treat you well; who likes you and praises your work, pays your wages
regularly, is kind to you in sickness, pleasant in speech and willing
to grant you every reasonable indulgence—don’t be afraid to say that
she is all this, and that you are comfortable and contented in your
present position. I know many such mistresses. I wish I could add that
they often have justice done them behind their backs by maids to whom
they (the mistresses) are so attached that they will not allow their
dearest friends to find fault with them.
It is perfectly natural that you should side with those of your own
class and business when a question of ill-usage comes up. If you know
of a maid whose wages are not paid, who is scolded unjustly, badly fed
and made to work beyond her strength, you are right to sympathize with
her. It would also be right to despise her if she did not throw up her
place and look for a better. It is still more just to despise one who
has none of these things to complain of, and has no intention of making
a change, yet speaks of her employer as a cruel mistress, and does all
she can to cast discredit upon the family. As a sensible girl you ought
to know that, in this country, nobody need keep such a place as she
makes out hers to be—and no self-respecting person _would_ keep it.
Try, then, to make the best of your place, and the best of yourself
while you are in it. Earn your wages fairly and honestly. There is no
better business for a woman in America than domestic service, if you
and others like you would combine to keep places so long as to make
yourselves a part of the household, and so nearly indispensable that
not a member of the family could do without you. Frequent changing is
an expensive matter. It is the maid who holds one position for years
who is well-dressed, respected and beloved by her employers, and who
rolls up a snug account in the savings-bank against marriage or a rainy
day.
(Sometimes they mean the same thing!)
Never lose sight of the truth that you are as respectable in your
position as the president’s wife in hers, while you perform the duties
of that position soberly, honestly and in the fear of God—so much more
respectable in your safe, honorable home shelter than the flashy, fast
shop-girl and unhealthy, underfed and overdressed factory girl in hers,
that we, who are sincerely interested in you, can not but wonder that
every clear-headed, modest girl does not see this.
As a last word: Don’t keep overstrict account of “work you were not
engaged to do.” I know of no business in the world in which a faithful
conscientious worker does not do much for which he is not paid—at
least, not paid in money. Dozens of unforeseen tasks, big and little,
are coming up, all the time, in every trade and profession, and for
everybody from the president down to a peanut peddler. The blessed
Book we spoke of just now commands us to do whatever is laid to our
hand, “as unto the Lord, and not unto men.” One and all, we should find
delight in these extra labors if we could, in our hearts, determine to
do them “as unto the dear Lord,” whose mercies to us are past counting.
Do what you are “engaged” to do, as unto the employer whose wages
you receive, and offer the “extras” as a free-will offering to your
Heavenly Father.
“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and _so_ fulfil the law of Christ.”
Read and obey the text in this spirit, and that “_so_” becomes the most
important word in this, or in any language.
I hope that you will, in the Father’s good time, become the happy
mistress of your own home. In which case you will, I venture to say,
keep house and make home the better for the discipline of mind and the
adjustment of duties learned in the daily routine of housework. This is
your apprenticeship.
DINNER
This, the most important meal of the day, is attended with a certain
degree of ceremony in the most modest household. Breakfast may be
hurried over in haste that is not unseemly when one considers that the
day’s work is all ahead of the family, and luncheon may dwindle down to
a “cold bite” eaten standing. Everybody must dine, and dining is always
“business.” A dinner party is the most serious of social functions,
and even a family dinner follows a prescribed order. There must be a
beginning, a middle and an end. Plates must be changed, for even in the
backwoods, meat and pudding are not set on the table at the same time.
This is as it should be. If we would have
“_Good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both_,”
we must bring to the discussion of the heavier nourishment set before
us orderliness, leisure and tempers free from annoying discomforts.
Magnificence is within the reach of a few; modest elegance is
attainable by many; cleanliness and good manners are free to the
humblest housemother and her brood.
So much for a general view of the wide field indicated by the word set
at the head of this chapter. Before entering upon a discussion of the
dishes which belong to this section of our book, I would lay stress
upon a cardinal duty connected with dinner—eating—a duty the neglect of
which is a proverbial national disgrace.
It is a physical impossibility to eat properly—and to digest with any
prospect of healthful assimilation—a breakfast of coffee, steak, hot
rolls and fried potatoes, in five minutes, or in fifteen. Yet this is
what the commuter, the clerk, the collegian—and a host of other men
(including an occasional capitalist) try to do six days in the week.
They eat, as they live, on the jump. When an especially audacious jump
lands them in the grave, intelligent scientists affect to wonder with
the rest of mankind at the untimely taking-off.
[Illustration: A CHRISTMAS TABLE DECORATED WITH HOLLY
AN AUTUMN DINNER TABLE DECORATED WITH VINES
A TABLE DECORATED WITH CHRYSANTHEMUMS AND PALMS]
Big mouthfuls and bolting are alike part of the national trick
advertised in dead earnest, not satirized, by the raucous shout of the
brakeman at the half-way house—“_Five minutes for refreshments!_”