_A few Rules to be observed in Cooking for Invalids._
Let all the kitchen utensils used in the preparation of invalids’
cookery be delicately and _scrupulously clean_; if this is not the
case, a disagreeable flavour may be imparted to the preparation, which
flavour may disgust, and prevent the patient from partaking of the
refreshment when brought to him or her.
For invalids, never make a large quantity _of one thing_, as they
seldom require much at a time; and it is desirable that variety be
provided for them.
Always have something in readiness; a little beef tea, nicely made and
nicely skimmed, a few spoonfuls of jelly, &c., &c., that it may be
administered as soon almost as the invalid wishes for it. If obliged to
wait a long time, the patient loses the desire to eat, and often turns
against the food when brought to him or her.
In sending dishes or preparations up to invalids, let everything look
as tempting as possible. Have a clean tray-cloth laid smoothly over the
tray; let the spoons, tumblers, cups and saucers, &c., be very clean
and bright. Gruel served in a tumbler is more appetizing than when
served in a basin or cup and saucer.
As milk is an important article of food for the sick, in warm weather
let it be kept on ice, to prevent its turning sour. Many other
delicacies may also be preserved good in the same manner for some
little time.
If the patient be allowed to eat vegetables, never send them up
undercooked, or half raw; and let a small quantity only be temptingly
arranged on a dish. This rule will apply to every preparation, as an
invalid is much more likely to enjoy his food if small delicate pieces
are served to him.
Never leave food about a sick-room; if the patient cannot eat it when
brought to him, take it away, and bring it to him in an hour or two’s
time. Miss Nightingale says, “To leave the patient’s untasted food
by his side from meal to meal, in hopes that he will eat it in the
interval, is simply to prevent him from taking any food at all.” She
says, “I have known patients literally incapacitated from taking one
article of food after another by this piece of ignorance. Let the food
come at the right time, and be taken away, eaten or uneaten, at the
right time, but never let a patient have ‘something always standing’ by
him, if you don’t wish to disgust him of everything.”
Never serve beef tea or broth with the _smallest particle_ of fat or
grease on the surface. It is better, after making either of these, to
allow them to get perfectly cold, when _all the fat_ may be easily
removed; then warm up as much as may be required. Two or three pieces
of clean whity-brown paper laid on the broth will absorb any greasy
particles that may be floating at the top, as the grease will cling to
the paper.
Roast mutton, chickens, rabbits, calves’ feet or head, game, fish
(simply dressed), and simple puddings, are all light food, and easily
digested. Of course, these things are only partaken of supposing the
patient is recovering.
A mutton chop, nicely cut, trimmed, and broiled to a turn, is a dish
to be recommended for invalids; but it must not be served _with all
the fat_ at the end, nor must it be too thickly cut. Let it be cooked
over a fire free from smoke, and sent up with the gravy in it, between
two very hot plates. Nothing is more disagreeable to an invalid than
_smoked_ food.
In making toast-and-water, never blacken the bread, but toast it only a
nice brown. Never leave toast-and-water to make until the moment it is
required, as it cannot then be properly prepared,—at least the patient
will be obliged to drink it warm, which is anything but agreeable.
In boiling eggs for invalids, let the white be just set; if boiled
hard, they will be likely to disagree with the patient.
In Miss Nightingale’s admirable “Notes on Nursing,” a book that no
mother or nurse should be without, she says,—“You cannot be too
careful as to quality in sick-diet. A nurse should never put before a
patient milk that is sour, meat or soup that is turned, an egg that
is bad, or vegetables underdone.” Yet often, she says, she has seen
these things brought in to the sick, in a state perfectly perceptible
to every nose or eye except the nurse’s. It is here that the clever
nurse appears,—she will not bring in the peccant article; but, not
to disappoint the patient, she will whip up something else in a few
minutes. Remember, that sick-cookery should half do the work of your
poor patient’s weak digestion.
She goes on to caution nurses, by saying,—“Take care not to spill into
your patient’s saucer; in other words, take care that the outside
bottom rim of his cup shall be quite dry and clean. If, every time he
lifts his cup to his lips, he has to carry the saucer with it, or else
to drop the liquid upon and to soil his sheet, or bedgown, or pillow,
or, if he is sitting up, his dress, you have no idea what a difference
this minute want of care on your part makes to his comfort, and even to
his willingness for food.”