Here I must claim all the attention of my readers: many of the
profession will, I have no doubt, be surprised that I should dwell upon
a subject which appears of so little importance, saying that, from the
plain cook to the most professed, all know how to roast or boil a piece
of meat, but there I must beg their pardon; I will instance myself: for,
previously to my forming any intention of writing the present work, I
had not devoted the time necessary to become professionally acquainted
with it, always depending upon my roasting cook, who had constant
practice, myself only having the knowledge of whether or not properly
done. I have since not only studied it closely, but have made in many
respects improvements upon the old system, and many discoveries in that
branch which I am sure is the most beneficial to all classes of society
(remembering, as I have before stated, that three parts of the animal
food of this country is served either plain roasted or boiled). My first
study was the fire, which I soon perceived was too deep, consumed too
much coal, and required poking every half hour, thus sending dust and
dirt all over the joints, which were immediately basted to wash it off;
seeing plainly this inconvenience, I immediately remedied it by
inventing my new roasting fire-place (see page 622), by which means I
saved two hundred-weight of coals per day, besides the advantage of
never requiring to be poked, being narrow and perpendicular; the fire is
lighted with the greatest facility, and the front of the fire being
placed a foot back in the chimney-piece, throws the heat of the fire
direct upon the meat, and not out at the sides, as many persons know
from the old roasting ranges. I have many times placed ladies or
gentlemen, visiting the club, within two feet of the fire when six large
joints have been roasting, and they have been in perfect ignorance that
it was near them until upon opening the wing of the screen (see same
Plate) by surprise, they have appeared quite terrified to think they
were so near such an immense furnace. My next idea was to discontinue
basting, perhaps a bold attempt to change and upset at once the custom
of almost all nations and ages, but being so confident of its evil
effects and tediousness, I at once did away with it, and derived the
greatest benefit (for explanation, see remarks at the commencement of
the roasts in the Kitchen of the Wealthy), for the quality of meat in
England is, I may say, superior to any other nation; its moist soil
producing fine grass almost all the year round, which is the best food
for every description of cattle, whilst in some countries not so
favoured by nature they are obliged to have recourse to artificial food,
which fattens the animals, but decreases the flavour of the meat; and,
again, we must take into consideration the care and attention paid by
the farmers and graziers to improve the stock of those unfortunate
benefactors of the human family.
Every country is famous, more or less, for some produce, so is every
county; for instance, for the best beef we are indebted principally to
Scotland: the Highland ox, which if bred in Scotland, kept there until
four years old, and fed twelve months in Norfolk, cannot be surpassed;
those also that are killed in Scotland are likewise very commendable,
but the connoisseur would give the preference by far to those that had
undergone a change of atmosphere and pasturage. Norfolk also produces
excellent beef, as likewise does Herefordshire, which three sorts are
ranked as the best by the first judges.
The Brighton downs are noted for producing sheep of the first quality,
next to which may be ranked those of the Norfolk downs, they are rather
larger, more fleshy, and the meat sometimes a darker colour.
Herefordshire also produces some very excellent. The Scotch mutton is
also very good, and deservedly of high repute, but I rarely ever use it,
as it is killed in Scotland and hurriedly packed, which causes it not to
look so well, and frequently very much bruises it; but those of
Leicestershire are, in my opinion, quite the contrary, being coarse meat
and very fat; I consider it unworthy of making its appearance upon the
table of a man of wealth. When residing at Melton Mowbray I tried
several haunches, even after hanging a month in winter, and then roasted
to perfection, I could not find in them any flavour worthy of the taste
of an epicure; I consider it more as a useful nourishment than a
delicate meat.
The best Welsh mutton is brought direct from its native mountains, the
heath upon which it feeds gives a very rich flavour to the meat, which
is very dark without much fat; many are fed in some of the English
counties, they are very excellent and much fatter, but do not possess
the same wild flavour.
The beat veal to be obtained in the spring time of the year comes from
the west of England, being rather small and very white, but there is a
steady supply of good veal from Surrey and Essex throughout the year.
Although very fine veal may be obtained in this country, it is not to be
compared to the quality of veal we obtain in France; the veal of
Pontoise, a little town six miles from Paris, outrivals any; I would
venture to say that one pound of that veal would make a better stock
than double the quantity of the veal procured here: no one can account
for it, but such is the actual case; although there the quality of any
other description of animal food is deficient, we have to boast of the
excellent flavour, succulence, and excessive whiteness of our veal.
House lamb may be obtained throughout the whole year, but there is no
great demand for it before February; grass lamb makes its appearance now
much earlier than formerly: the quality much depends upon the winter
season; if a mild winter they may really be fed upon grass, but if the
contrary, they must be fed with prepared food, which increases their
size but diminishes their quality.
Pork for roasting is best when about six months old, Berkshire and
Hampshire producing the best. The size of a leg of pork should not
exceed more than seven pounds, nor much less than six. I do not know
why, but of late years pork has lost in a great measure its popularity,
and but seldom appears upon a nobleman’s table; it is in season from
October to about March.
No. 1. _Sirloin of Beef._ The royal honour which this bold and handsome
dish received from the merry monarch, who conferred upon it the honour
of knighthood, good Sir Loin, which title it has ever since retained
(previously only bearing the cognomen of loin), and most likely will
retain until the latest period: as a joint it claims precedence of all
others. In roasting, the fillet and fat below keep the upper part moist,
and when well roasted, such is the quantity of gravy, that after a few
slices have been cut it may be taken from it with a spoon.
Procure a fine square piece of sirloin weighing about twenty pounds
(which has been hung at least three weeks in winter, and eight or ten
days, if possible, in summer, observing that the older the meat is the
longer it will require keeping before cooking, and this remark applies
to all kinds of meat, especially to beef and mutton), trim nicely,
leaving the fat about an inch and a half in thickness over the fillet,
cut a slice slantwise from the flap, which turn under, fixing it with
skewers, thus giving the joint an oblong shape; with a sharp knife cut
through the sinew (running along the chine-bones) in four or five
places, or the meat would contract in roasting; make an incision in the
centre of the chine-bones, lengthwise, with a chopper, through which
pass a spit an inch wide and half an inch in thickness, bringing it out
at the flap, keeping the centre, and avoiding the fillet. When the joint
is larger it would be advisable to use a cradle-spit, which, however
like the other spit, has its inconveniences, one making a hole through
the meat, and the other pressing upon the fat, making it heavy; but in
any kind of joint, if not over-roasted, you will never perceive the mark
of the spit, as the cavity closes immediately upon the spit leaving it;
always choose a spit corresponding to the size of the joint. In a large
kitchen, where you require many joints roasting at one time, a
cradle-spit is a nuisance, and must be used only where it cannot be
avoided. Tie half a sheet of buttered foolscap paper upon each side of
the beef, and place to roast, keeping it two feet from a very clear
fire, let remain twenty minutes, then rub the top over with a piece of
butter placed in the bowl of a large wooden spoon (see page 396), and
place the beef back to the distance of three or four feet from the fire,
allowing it two hours and a half to three hours to roast; take it from
your spit, let remain a few minutes upon a dish until no more fat runs
from it, when place it upon the dish you intend serving it on
(previously taking out the piece of rump-bone affixed to the side to
facilitate the carving; but in choosing a piece of sirloin obtain it if
possible without any of that bone attached, or, at any rate, with but a
very small piece, as the joint looks so much handsomer without it),
pouring half a pint of good gravy (page 394) under; you will then
perceive my object in not basting meat, the fat and the skin will be of
a very light gold colour, which would have been quite the contrary if
continually basted. By placing the meat too near the fire the fat
quickly melts and falls into the dripping-pan, whilst by keeping it a
tolerable distance it cooks gradually, and as the meat revolves runs
over its surface, keeping it continually moist; and, again, by placing
it too near the fire it is liable to catch, causing many persons to
think that it has not been well basted; another evil in basting is, that
by continually pouring hot fat over you cause that beautiful light fat
attached to the joint to become heavy, and the gravy which invariably
falls from the joint with the fat remains upon it, burns, and causes it
to be very indigestible. It will also be easy to perceive in the habit
of pouring a quantity of hot fat over all joints, that if three or four
should be roasting together, one over the other, that one description of
meat becomes basted with the fat and gravy of several, whilst the mere
rubbing of a piece of butter over is not the least objectionable, as
nothing can fall upon other joints but a little butter or clear fat,
which cannot in the least interfere with the flavour of other meats, but
still I would advise that lamb, veal, poultry, and even game, be kept at
the top where there is beef, mutton, or pork roasting; this only applies
to large establishments.
The above description is applied for the Kitchen of the Wealthy, but I
must confess I do not object to a small piece of beef for my Kitchen at
Home; I should proceed precisely as above, only procuring a piece of not
more than eight, ten, or twelve pounds in weight; put a little water in
the dripping-pan, place the beef upon a spit papered as before, put it
very near the fire for a few minutes, rub over with butter, then put it
back at the distance of two feet; let roast, if weighing from ten to
twelve pounds, an hour and a half to two hours, depending much upon the
fire, of which any person may judge with or without practice; take it
up, dress upon your dish, then have the contents of your dripping-pan in
a basin, from which extract the whole of the fat, and pour the gravy
over the chine-bones, it will be very good, and save the trouble and
expense of making gravy; a couple of Yorkshire puddings, of two eggs
each, are very excellent cooked under the meat; before I had a
smoke-jack in my small kitchen I used to roast very well with a bit of
string. For the cottage kitchen, where there is no smoke-jack provided,
you may roast very well with a piece of worsted or string, by hooking it
to the meat, and then suspending it to a bracket fixed under the
mantel-piece, which will enable you to remove it to any distance you
think proper from the fire, making a tea-tray, at the distance of three
feet from the fire, act as a screen; the bottle-jacks are not bad, but
soon get out of repair.
No. 2. _Ribs of Beef._ A piece of from twenty to twenty-five pounds
makes a very pretty joint; trim neatly by sawing off the tips of the
chine-bones to make it stand flat, saw also about three inches from the
tips of the ribs, merely sawing through the bones, which detach from the
meat, leaving a flap, which fold under and fix with wooden skewers, not,
however, pulling it too tight, or it would cause the skin to crack in
roasting, which would produce a very bad effect; roast as directed for
the sirloin, from two hours and a half to three hours would be
sufficient, unless very thick. For a cold joint the ribs are better than
the sirloin, which last should always be eaten hot.
At home I often have a piece of ribs of beef weighing from six to eight
pounds, and roast by passing a very thin spit through, and placing it
down before a moderate fire; or, if in a small cottage, hang it up with
string as for the small sirloin; it would take from an hour and five
minutes to an hour and a quarter roasting, being perpendicular you may
baste it slightly, as it does not receive much nourishment from its own
fat.
No. 3. _Rump of Beef._ This is also a very delicate joint, but can only
be had to perfection in the winter months, as it requires hanging from
three weeks to a month before it is in readiness to roast to perfection;
procure one of from thirty to thirty-five pounds in weight, trim neatly,
leaving all the fat, for, taking so long to roast, should it be short of
fat it would go to table quite dry; roast it in a cradle-spit as
directed for sirloin, but keeping it still further from the fire, and
giving it from four hours and a half to five hours roasting, it might
also be roasted in paste as directed for haunch of venison (No. 222), or
wrap it up in several sheets of paper well buttered, and browned by
taking off the paste twenty minutes before removing from the fire.
This bold joint never makes its appearance in my Kitchen at Home, but I
have frequently used the piece of fillet attached to it, which weighs
from three to five pounds; I leave about an inch of fat upon it, pass a
small spit through, and roast from three quarters of an hour to an hour;
for gravy I proceed as for the sirloin. Cold potatoes, previously
boiled, put under it in the dripping-pan whilst roasting, and turned
occasionally, are very excellent.
No. 4. _Baron of Beef._ It is an old saying that two extremes often
meet, so with me, I leave my five pounds’ joint roasting and, like
Gulliver, make a step towards the empire of the giant. This is, indeed,
a colossal joint, which at first sight would put a modest fire out of
conceit, my smoke-jack out of order, and, above all, drive my few
guests’ appetites from their frugal stomachs; they not being initiated
in the grandeur or importance of a civic or aristocratic banquet would
consider it a mighty dish of vulgarity. But stay, friends, I would
observe grandeur and magnitude are far from being vulgar; to prove that
my assertion is correct I have the opinion of ages, for it is a dish
almost as old as England herself. I have before stated that Charles the
Second gave the title and importance to the sirloin, and I have no doubt
the baron owes its origin also to some such cause or great event, which
I will attempt to discover for the information of some of my readers
who, like myself, at present may be entirely ignorant of its origin,
which I feel assured will prove interesting.
A baron of beef is generally cut from a small ox, and includes the two
rumps and two sirloins with one of the rib bones on each side; it must
be trussed precisely as for a saddle of mutton; pass a spit, which of
course must not be too large, through the spinal-marrow-bone, then wrap
the beef up in paste as for a haunch of venison (No. 540), only a little
thicker, add also more paper, set it three feet from a brisk fire,
pouring fat over the paper to prevent its catching fire, twenty minutes
afterwards remove the spit two feet farther from the fire, inclose it
well with the fire-screen, and roast eight or nine hours, keeping it
turned by hand; half an hour before it is done take off the paste and
paper and give the beef a fine gold colour, when take up, dress in a
dish with gravy under and serve. The ancient style was to serve a
representation of St. George and the dragon, cut from vegetables, upon
the top, fresh salad also of every description used to be placed around,
but the whole was obliged to be removed at the commencement of carving.
Having promised my readers that I would make all possible inquiry
relating to the origin of the inviting joint called baron of beef, a
careful search into “Hone” and others, has not, I regret to say, been
attended with quite a favorable result, and the only information which I
can at present obtain is the legendary one that King John, after signing
Magna Charta at Runnymede, partook of a repast in the company of his
barons, consisting of the saddle and part of the ribs of beef roasted,
and that hence arose the saying “baron of beef.” Now this appears very
much like the traveller’s tale that had but one point in its favour,
namely, that no one present could possibly contradict it.
No. 5. _Round of Beef._ “Here,” says John Bull, with a good-humoured
countenance (standing near a table upon which was a round of beef being
prepared for dressing, clapping his hands upon his knees, and bending
with no little difficulty his colossal stomach), “do you know, my
excellent friend,” says he to me, “I fear you cannot cook that glorious
dish to perfection, for I have not yet forgotten your seven hours’
dressing of a leg of mutton (p. 193), so if you are not above receiving
a lesson I will give you one which will enable you to dress this
all-important dish to perfection; for I prize it as I do my own roast
beef of old England, and you must be aware that after the centuries of
practice I have had that I must understand some little about it. Well,
in the first place, the quality of the meat has a good deal to do with
it, of which you have given a fair description, I therefore pass it
over; but to proceed: it must be cut pretty freely from the knuckle and
placed in a brine-tub, cover well with salt, rub it well in, leave it
until the next day, when again rub it with the salt and brine created by
the gravy from the meat, rubbing well every other day until it has
remained a fortnight, that is, if of a good size, weighing from thirty
to thirty-five pounds, if larger or smaller, more or less time, which
must be left to your own good judgment, then take it out of the pickle,
let drain twenty minutes, take out and form it of a good shape, folding
the fat round, which fix with skewers, tying it round with a few yards
of very wide tape, tie it up in a thin cloth, and place it in a large
stock-pot with plenty of cold water, set upon a good fire and when
beginning to boil draw it to the corner, where let simmer five hours,
but two hours before it is done put in eight fine carrots, scraped and
cut into six or eight pieces, twelve turnips (peeled), and two suet
puddings, weighing from two and a half to three pounds each, these
articles would, perhaps, cause the water to cease boiling, if so, place
it again quite over the fire until it does boil; when done take out the
round, let drain ten minutes, take it from the cloth, detach the tape,
take out the skewers, replacing them as you take them out with long
silver skewers, dress upon a large hot-water dish, and pour over about a
quart of the liquor it was boiled in, cut a large slice from the top
about two inches and a half in thickness, dress the carrots and turnips
tastefully around and serve, with the puddings upon a separate dish,
sending one after the other, they will eat much lighter. When upon the
table it must be carved with a regular round-of-beef knife (very sharp)
in slices not exceeding the thickness of half-a-crown piece, assisting
each guest to a slice, also give one third fat, with a little of the
carrot and turnip, but never dig the underdone part from the centre to
oblige any one, for they that cannot eat from a joint well-cooked and
fairly carved are not worthy of having one set before them. Some persons
like them, when salted, to cut red quite through, I do not admire it,
but it is done by adding two ounces of sal prunella and half a pound of
saltpetre to every fifteen pounds of salt used in the pickling. When a
round of beef is very large some persons place a tin tube in the centre
to boil it, I do not think it a bad plan, as it causes it to cook more
regular.”
After receiving the above useful lesson, and being desirous of improving
my profession in all its branches, I remembered that amongst the number
of joints boiled to serve cold for large civic, agricultural, or
benevolent anniversary dinners, the round of beef was the most
prominent, and having seen it standing in dishes to get cold, with the
dish filled with the gravy that runs from it, particularly if a little
overdone, caused me to hit upon the following expedient to prevent the
meat losing so much of its succulence: fill two large tubs with cold
water, into which throw a few pounds of rough ice, and when the round is
done throw it, cloth and all, into one of the tubs of ice water, let
remain one minute, when take out and put it into the other tub, fill the
first tub again with water, and continue the above process for about
twenty minutes, then set it upon a dish, leaving the cloth on until the
next day, or until quite cold; when opened the fat will be as white as
possible, besides having saved the whole of the gravy. If no ice,
spring water will answer the same purpose, but will require to be more
frequently changed; the same mode would be equally successful with the
aitch-bone.
The above is a joint which I have always considered too large for my
Kitchen at Home, but the aitch-bone or brisket is easily managed.
No. 6. _Aitch-bone of Beef._ A good-sized one would weigh from fifteen
to twenty pounds. Pickle it precisely as directed in the last, but one
week would be sufficient, boil nearly three hours, and serve with the
vegetables round as before, and a suet pudding separate; if for cold do
not take the tape from it until cold, trim the top, run a silver skewer
in at the extremity, and serve garnished with sprigs of very green fresh
parsley.
No. 7. _Brisket of Beef._ The whole brisket would require pickling for a
week, it must not be too fat; this being a long awkward joint may be cut
in two, and served upon separate occasions, boil about five hours and
serve as for the last two, with the vegetables around it; when upon
table it must be cut into thin slices, fat and lean in fair proportions.
The remains of a brisket of beef are excellent when cold.
No. 8. _Brisket of Beef à la Garrick._ This dish will, I am sure, be as
popular with the English public as the celebrated tragedian and comedian
whose name I have borrowed, even if he were now alive. Procure a nice
brisket of beef with as little fat as possible attached, if too much cut
a little of it off, and detach the whole of the bones from it, then make
a pickle with twenty pounds of salt, three quarters of a pound of
saltpetre, four cakes of sal prunella, two pounds of moist sugar, and
two cloves of garlic, with which rub the meat well, and leave it rather
more than a week, rubbing and turning it over every day; then drain and
cut it into two equal parts, place one upon the other, mixing the fat
and lean well, tie them together, and afterwards in a clean cloth, put
into a large stewpan or stock-pot containing six gallons of water, and
let simmer for eight hours, (but to ascertain correctly if done run a
trussing-needle into it, if tender it is quite done;), then take it out
and let it remain ten minutes upon a dish to drain, have ready a large
tin dish-cover, eighteen inches long, twelve wide, and deep in
proportion, place it upon a trivet and put the beef into it, opening the
cloth to lie smoothly in the cover, and with a fork arranging the meat,
fat and lean together, all over the bottom; you have a common piece of
board half an inch in thickness made to fit into the cover, place it
upon the meat with half a hundred weight upon it, and let remain in a
cold place until the next morning, then take off the weight and the
board, pull the cloth gently at each angle, and when loose turn it over
upon your dish, take the cloth off gently, garnish with sprigs of
parsley, fresh watercresses, and small radishes (if in season), cut in
thin strips crosswise. Nothing could be nicer than this for a breakfast
or luncheon, it will keep good a fortnight in winter, and as long as a
week in the summer by putting it in a cold place. I have frequently made
some in my Kitchen at Home, procuring a piece weighing ten or twelve
pounds, from the bones and trimmings of which I have also made very
excellent soup, which but of course must be fresh. The pickling will
answer to salt three or four other joints, as it will keep good nearly a
month in summer, and much longer in winter.
No. 9. _Haunch of Mutton._ The haunch is the most important joint from
the sheep, it requires but little trimming, and to be hung about three
weeks (season permitting). Saw about three inches from the knuckle,
detach all the skin from the loin, and put it upon a spit, commencing
running the spit in at the knuckle and bringing it out at the flap,
avoiding the fillet of the loin (a cradle spit may be used for this
joint,) set it down at the distance of two feet from a good solid fire,
and if weighing about twenty pounds it requires two hours and a half
roasting, ten minutes after it is down rub it over with butter, which
you have fixed in the bowl of a wooden spoon, it will form a kind of
froth over it, then place it back three feet from the fire, where let it
continue until done, if approved of, shake over a little flour from a
flour-dredge a quarter of an hour before taking it up, when done dress
upon your dish with a paper frill upon the knuckle and about half a pint
of gravy under. If the meat is rather fat the butter may be omitted.
No. 10. _Soyer’s Saddle-back of Mutton._ This is an entirely new joint
which I have introduced in this present month, April 1846. I have served
it but three times in our coffee-room, where it gave the greatest
satisfaction to those who had partaken of it, having dined from fifteen
to eighteen each, whilst two saddles, which would weigh six or eight
pounds more, would not dine more than seven or eight if badly carved, or
more than ten if properly carved in the usual manner. The cut is a
correct representation of the appearance of the new joint, which serves
to indicate the mode of carving. It is composed of the two loins and two
necks of a sheep trimmed into the form of a double saddle, without
interfering in the least with the legs and shoulders, which would cause
a serious loss to the butcher.
[Illustration]
Trim and dispose the saddle-back as follows: saw the centre bone of the
back as far as the saddle, dividing it but not cutting the meat or
making a hole through, then with a small saw divide each joint, so as to
admit of the necks being cut into chops in carving, when well separated
take a piece of a good length from the ends of the rib bones, trim the
flaps, turn them under, fixing them with skewers and string, giving the
proper shape as the design represents, pull the skin from the whole
back, melt two ounces of butter, which rub over with a paste brush to
give a good appearance and let remain five or six days previous to
roasting, weather permitting. To roast, pass a long saddle-of-mutton
spit through the spinal-marrow-bone, bringing it out at the ends of the
necks, fix it to a larger spit, and place at a good distance from a
moderate fire for nearly three hours; avoid basting, but a quarter of an
hour before taking up shake a little flour mixed with some finely-ground
rice over, which is very good for a little change. This joint looks very
noble, and does not appear too large when roasted. For a small dinner a
saddleback of Welsh mutton or lamb will make a very fine remove. To
carve, commence by passing your knife down the back where nothing but
the meat and skin holds it together, and from thence crosswise to the
flap, serving a cutlet and a slice between to each person, continuing
the same way through the saddle; you will thus carve the meat according
to the grain, and produce fresh hot gravy for each person as you proceed
carving. Should any remain, it is fit either to be sent cold to table or
dressed otherwise advantageously.
No. 11. _Saddle of Mutton._ Procure a fine saddle of mutton, about
fourteen pounds in weight, that has been kept some time, take off the
skin with a knife, and skewer the flaps under, run a lark-spit through
the spinal marrow-bone, which spit affix to a larger one, and place down
to roast as directed for the saddle-back; it will require about an hour
and three quarters roasting, and must be carved as in the last.
No. 12. _Leg of Mutton._ A leg weighing eight pounds would take about an
hour and a half roasting; run the spit in under the thigh-bone and bring
it out at the knuckle, roast it as described for the haunch, and send to
table with a frill upon the knuckle.
When I have a leg of mutton to roast in my kitchen I make a small
incision at the knuckle two or three days before roasting, in which I
put two or three cloves of garlic, it will give the mutton a fine and
peculiar flavour, not at all resembling the strong, and to some
objectionable, flavour of garlic. I frequently serve it with haricot
beans under it, dressed as directed (No. 1094).
No. 13. _Shoulder of Mutton_ of seven or eight pounds weight will
require about one hour roasting; run the spit in at the flap and bring
it out at the knuckle, observe the same directions as before, not
basting, but merely rubbing it over with the butter.
No. 14. _Loin of Mutton._ A loin weighing six pounds would require an
hour to roast; take off all the skin with a knife, and separate the
joints with a chopper, not cutting through the fillet; run a lark-spit
through from one extremity to the other and affix it to a larger spit,
observe the same directions in roasting as for the haunch. This is a
very favorite dish of mine at home, where I in general joint it with a
meat-saw so as to enable me to carve it into thin slanting chops, which
look so much more inviting in the plate than those huge pieces which are
generally carved.
No. 15. _Neck of Mutton._ This I call a very recherché little joint when
well kept; it must be nicely trimmed, sawing through the bones at the
tips of the ribs, which detach from the meat, folding the flap over; saw
off the chine-bone, and with a knife detach the remainder of the bone
from the fillet, detach the skin from the upper part, fix the flap under
with a couple of skewers, run a long flat iron skewer through the
centre, from one extremity to the other, fix it to a larger spit, roast
(if weighing five pounds) nearly three quarters of an hour, observing
the same directions as before, carve it crosswise, cutting it in
cotelettes, one of which, with a bone, serve to each guest.
No. 16. _Boiled Leg of Mutton._ Cut the knuckle from a leg of mutton
which has been hung some time, put into an oval braising-pan well
covered with cold water, in which you have put two ounces of salt, place
it upon a sharp fire until boiling, when skim well, and place it upon
the corner of the fire to simmer about two hours, that is, if the leg
does not exceed more than nine pounds in weight; about half an hour
before it is done add a dozen turnips, peeled and cut into quarters,
when done take it up, dress upon a dish with the turnips around, place a
frill upon the knuckle, pour nearly half a pint of the liquor it was
boiled in over, and serve with caper sauce (No. 67) in a boat. Observe,
in boiling any description of meat, fast boiling would not cook it any
quicker, but cause it to eat very hard and bad.
At home I have tried to cook them by placing them in the water whilst
boiling, and when again beginning to boil drawing it to the corner of
the fire; it certainly saves a little time, but does not eat so tender
as when put into cold water. I generally there mash turnips and serve
them separately (I do not like them plain and watery, although I
consider they must be much more wholesome). Place the turnips when
boiled into a stewpan, add half a teaspoonful of salt, a quarter ditto
of pepper, two ounces of butter with which you have mixed half a
tablespoonful of flour, and four tablespoonfuls of cream or milk, mix
all well together over the fire with a wooden spoon. For caper sauce I
mix a tablespoonful of flour with an ounce of butter and put it in a
smallish stewpan, add half a pint of the liquor the mutton was boiled
in, stir over the fire until upon the point of boiling, when add a
quarter of a tablespoonful of salt, quarter that quantity of pepper, a
little grated nutmeg, and a good spoonful of drained pickled capers;
then add another ounce of butter, shake round over the fire, and when
melted it is finished. I sometimes also add a spoonful of liaison, it
gives it a rich colour.
No. 17. _Shoulder of Mutton (boiled)_. Choose a very tender one,
weighing about seven pounds, cut off the knuckle, and boil it as above;
one hour and a half would be sufficient.
WELSH MUTTON.--No. 18. _Saddle-back of Welsh Mutton._ Trim and truss it
as South Down mutton, it will take one hour less roasting; you may
butter twice over.
No. 19. _Haunch._ If weighing twelve pounds roast it an hour and a half
as directed (in proportion) for the haunch of mutton, but if deficient
of fat rub it over with butter three or four times instead of once.
No. 20. _Saddle._ If weighing eight pounds roast it an hour and a
quarter.
No. 21. _Leg._ If weighing five pounds roast it an hour.
No. 22. _Loin._ If weighing four pounds roast three quarters of an hour.
No. 23. _Neck._ If weighing three pounds roast it half an hour.
No. 24. _Shoulder._ If weighing four pounds roast it three quarters of
an hour. Loin and neck about the same time.
No. 25. _Lamb_ is divided into but three principal joints, being the
fore-quarter, haunch, and saddle, two joints may be made of each by
separating the shoulder from the ribs, the leg from the loin, or
dividing the saddle, but they are usually roasted together.
To trim the fore-quarter saw off the chine-bone, and break the rib-bones
down the centre, pass two iron skewers from the breast to the back, and
a lark-spit through lengthwise, fix it upon a larger spit, cover a sheet
of buttered paper over the top, and roast an hour and a quarter before a
good fire, rubbing butter over it, it would be a light gold colour;
should the shoulder have been taken off it will only require three
quarters of an hour to roast, serve in a dish with a little gravy under,
and mint sauce in a boat.
The haunch must be trimmed by cutting off the shank-bone, place it upon
a small spit by running the spit in at the extremity of the loin,
passing over the thigh-bone, and bringing it out at the knuckle, which
tie to the spit with a piece of string; place a sheet of buttered paper
over, and roast an hour and three-quarters before a solid fire; place a
frill upon the knuckle, and serve as before. The leg only would require
one hour roasting.
For the saddle, skewer the flaps underneath, curling each one round, run
a lark-spit through the spinal marrow-bone, and fix it to a larger spit;
place a sheet of buttered paper over, and roast an hour and a half
before a good fire, dress upon your dish and serve as for the
fore-quarter.
No. 26. _Fillet of Veal._ Choose it of the best quality, as described at
the commencement of this series. Procure a leg, saw off the knuckle,
take out the bone in the centre of the fillet, and fill up the cavity
with some stuffing made as directed (No. 127), fold the udder and flap
round, which fix with three skewers; place half a sheet of buttered
foolscap paper top and bottom, which tie over and over with plenty of
string, run a spit through, fixing the fillet with a hold-fast, set down
to roast, placing it rather close to the fire ten minutes, rub well over
with butter, then place it at least two feet and a half from the fire,
to roast very slowly, giving it a fine gold colour; a fillet weighing
sixteen pounds would require three hours roasting, when done, take it
up, detach all the string and paper, trim the top and set it upon your
dish; have a pint of melted butter in a stewpan upon the fire, to which,
when boiling, add four spoonfuls of Harvey sauce, and two of mushroom
catsup, mix well, and pour round the fillet; have also boiled nicely an
ox-tongue, which skin and trim, dress upon a dish surrounded with greens
or cabbage nicely boiled, and serve as an accompaniment to the fillet.
In my small kitchen I, however, content myself with a nice piece of
streaked bacon, of about two pounds in weight, boiled and served
surrounded with greens or turnip-tops if in season. For the different
modes of dressing the remainder, see the Entrées, Kitchen at Home.
No. 27. _Loin of Veal._ Procure one with plenty of fat and a nice kidney
in it, cut off the chump, take away the rib-bone at the other extremity,
and fasten the flap over the kidney with a skewer, run a spit through
lengthwise (not too thick a one), commencing at the thickest end, and
fixing it at the other extremity with a hold-fast, tie it up in a sheet
of oiled paper; if weighing fourteen pounds it will require two hours
and a quarter to roast, serve with sauce and tongue, or bacon, as in the
last, upon a separate dish. At home I usually content myself with the
chump, as taken from the loin, either roasting or boiling it, should it
weigh four pounds it would require an hour roasting, or an hour and a
quarter boiling; if roasted, serve with bacon and the same sauce as for
the fillet, but if boiled I make half the quantity of sauce as for
boiled leg of mutton, but omitting the capers, and adding a spoonful of
roughly-chopped, fresh, green parsley. Dress the remains the second day
as directed in the Entrées, Kitchen at Home.
No. 28. _Breast of Veal._ Procure a nice breast of veal, which trim as
directed (No. 455), stuff the interior with a long roll of stuffing (No.
127), roll the flaps over and sew it up with a trussing-needle and
string, place it upon a spit, running it through lengthwise, and roast
one hour and a quarter as directed for the loin, serve with the same
sauce, and bacon and greens separate. The breast of veal stewed is also
good, but for the details I must refer to the Removes in the first part
of this work. At home I stew them, and add a few heads of celery with
the stock it is stewing in, which I afterwards dress round the veal,
and make a little white sauce similar to No. 7, with some of the liquor
it was stewed in, or thicken the sauce with a little butter and flour,
and add a gill of milk.
No. 29. _Shoulder of Veal._ A shoulder weighing fourteen pounds would
require two hours and a half to roast, and three hours to boil, serve
with a parsley and butter sauce if boiled, or if roasted, with sauce as
for the fillet; bacon and greens must be served with it separate,
whichever way it is dressed.
Should you boil the shoulder add a few vegetables, and you may reduce
the stock it was boiled in to a glaze (by continual boiling), which will
be very serviceable in dressing the remains upon following days; by
boiling a calf’s foot with the shoulder you would produce a much greater
quantity of glaze.
No. 30. _Neck of Veal_ is usually served as the shoulder, either roasted
or stewed, with vegetables, but I have described a number of methods of
dressing it in the Removes of the first department of this work.
No. 31. _Knuckle of Veal_ is a very favorite dish of mine; I procure two
of them, which I saw into three pieces each, and put into a stewpan with
a piece of streaked bacon two pounds in weight, four onions, a carrot,
two turnips, and six peppercorns, place over the fire, and when boiling
add a little salt, skim well, and place at the corner to simmer gently
for two hours, take up, dress them in your dish surrounded with the
vegetables and bacon, and serve with parsley and butter over; very good
soup may be made from the stock it was boiled in if required, or if not,
into glaze, which put by until wanted.
No. 32. _Leg of Pork._ Choose the pork as described at the commencement
of this series, if a leg, one weighing about seven pounds, cut an
incision in the knuckle near the thigh, into which put a quantity of
sage and onions, previously passed in butter, sew the incision up with
packthread, score the rind of the pork in lines across, half an inch
apart, place upon a spit, running it in just under the rind, and
bringing it out at the knuckle. If stuffed the day previous to roasting
it would improve its flavour; roast, if weighing seven pounds, about two
hours and a half, and serve with apple sauce in a boat.
I often roast a small leg of pork at home as directed above, and make
apple sauce thus: peel and slice six nice apples, which put into a
stewpan, with a tablespoonful of currants well washed and picked, and
one of brown sugar, a little of the rind of a lemon chopped very fine,
six spoonfuls of water, and a very small piece of cinnamon, boil until
in purée, then stir in a handful of bread-crumbs, and serve hot. When,
however, I am in a great hurry I merely put apples, water, sugar, and a
little rind of lemon. Other joints of pork are roasted in the same
manner, but do not require stuffing, a loin weighing six pounds
requiring two hours and a quarter to roast; a neck of the same size will
take about the same time, as will the spare-ribs, which is nothing but
the necks of larger pork with the blade-bone cut out and the fat taken
off.
No. 33. _Salt Pork._ Pork is salted in the same manner as described for
beef, omitting the saltpetre, but of course not requiring so long a
time; a leg weighing seven pounds would be well salted in a week, as
also would a hand and spring weighing about ten pounds, and either would
require two hours boiling, putting them in a stewpan with cold water,
and serving with carrots and greens upon a separate dish. With the leg
it is also customary to serve a pease pudding made thus: tie about a
pint of split peas loosely in a pudding-cloth, throw them into boiling
water to stew until tender, then take them up, turn from the cloth upon
the back of a hair sieve, through which force them with a wooden spoon,
put them into a basin, add two ounces of butter, season with pepper and
salt, mix well with six whole eggs, tie up tightly in a pudding-cloth,
boil an hour and serve very hot.
A pig’s head is also excellent pickled. Divide the head in two, take out
the brains and detach the jaw-bones, pickle it twelve days, rubbing it
every day, (the brine in which you have pickled one joint, with the
addition of more salt, would pickle several and keep good for upwards of
a month;) when ready, boil it nearly three hours, and serve with greens
round as an accompaniment to veal or poultry. To pickle it red, rub it
well with twelve pounds of salt, a quarter of a pound of saltpetre, two
cakes of sal prunella, and half a pound of coarse sugar, rub it every
day, allowing it to remain fifteen days in pickle, after which it maybe
hung, and dried or smoked previously to dressing.
MADE DISHES THAT CAN BE EASILY PREPARED AT A MODERATE EXPENSE IN MY
KITCHEN AT HOME.
Preaching economy which has been practised from age to age in all
domestic works is not here my intention, as my readers must quickly
perceive that the simplicity of my receipts excludes the seal of
extravagance, having simplified even dishes of some importance, which
daily give and have given the greatest satisfaction at the Reform Club.
The regular courses of a cuisine bourgeoise, or domestic cookery, will
be found extremely easy to execute in my Kitchen at Home, and numbers of
them done to perfection in the Kitchen (or sanctorum) of a Bachelor, as
well as in the small Cottage Kitchen.
No. 34. _French Pot-au-feu._ Out of this earthen pot comes the favorite
soup and bouilli, which have been everlastingly famed as having been the
support of several generations of all classes of society in France; from
the opulent to the poorest individuals, all pay tribute to its
excellence and worth. In fact this soup and bouilli are to the French
what the roast beef and plum-pudding are on a Sunday to the English. No
dinner in France is served without soup, and no good soup is supposed to
be made without the pot-au-feu. Generally every quarter of a century
makes a total alteration in fashions and politics, need I say also in
cookery, which must be approximated not only to the fashion but more
strongly so to the political world, humbly bending its indispensable
services to the whims and wishes of crowned heads, which invariably lead
the multitude; for example, the bills of fare of the sumptuous dinners
which used to grace the tables of Louis the Fourteenth, Sixteenth, and
Eighteenth, of France, were all very different to each other, and none
of them were ever copied to grace the sumptuous and luxurious tables of
the Empire; even the very features of them having undergone an entire
change in our own days; every culinary invention taking its title and
origin from some celebrated personage or extraordinary event, every
innovation in cookery, like a change in fashion, causing us to forget
those dishes which they have superseded; I have no doubt but that, if
some correct historian could collect the bills of fare of dinners from
various centuries and nations which crowned heads have partaken of, he
might write a very interesting volume under the title of History of
Cookery, in which we should be able closely to trace the original
history of different countries.[23] Nothing can stamp the anniversary of
any great event so well as a sumptuous banquet: peace, war, politics,
and even religion, have always been the cause of extraordinary and
sometimes monstrous gastronomic meetings; for a proof of which my
readers will find at the end of this work a correct bill of fare (found
in the Tower of London,) of a dinner given by the Earl of Warwick at the
installation of an Archbishop of York, in the year 1470. In time of war
artists are engaged sketching on immense canvasses the horrors and
disasters of a battle, while in peace they sketch the anniversary
banquets for the victorious, in honour of the event, (reminding us of
the calm after a storm;) and we may sincerely hope, for the credit of
humanity at large, that a disastrous battle may have its hundreds of
anniversary banquets without a fresh combat. But to return to the humble
but indispensable science of cookery. Everything seems to prove to us
that it has always performed an important part in political events, and
has been exposed to as many alterations; still, amongst so many
changes, it is with a national pleasure that I find, amongst the
heap of frivolous culinary ruins, an old favorite of our great
great-grandfathers still remaining ours, having boldly passed through
every storm, it has for ever established its culinary power upon our
changeable soil. The brown cheek of this demi-immortal is daily seen
ornamenting the firesides of millions, and merely acquaints the children
the first thing in the morning that something good is in preparation for
their dinner: this mighty vessel is called in French _pot-au-feu_,[24]
in which is made that excellent and wholesome luxury which for centuries
has been the principal nourishment and support of the middling and
poorer classes of France at a very trifling expense. It is not upon the
tables of the wealthy that the best of this national soup is to be
obtained, but upon the right or left side of the entrance to his noble
mansion, in a square, oval, or octagonal room, commonly called _la Loge
du Portier_, or the Porter’s Lodge; as nearly every porter has his
portière, that is, a wife who answers the door (whilst her husband is
doing the frottage, or polishing the floor of the apartment), while
pulling the string or wire which loosens the lock to let people in with
one hand, she skims the _pot-au-feu_ with the other; should she be
fortunate enough to possess two eyes she would keep one upon her
_pot-au-feu_, and the other upon the individual, who had, probably, come
only to make inquiry; but unfortunately for La Mère Binard (whom I shall
have the pleasure of introducing to my readers as a gastronomic wonder
in her simple style), she had but one eye, which she almost entirely
devoted to the ebullition of her _pot-au-feu_; having been portière
there two-and-thirty years, she knew most of the people in the habit of
calling by their voice, and used to answer them even without turning her
shaking head. But what brought her domestic cookery in such high repute,
that she was not to be excelled by any portière of Paris, was, that one
day her master, M. le Comte de C**** (who was a good gentleman and great
epicure), came home from a long ride while she was performing her humble
occupation of pouring the soup into the tureen; a triple knock came to
the door, which immediately opened as by electricity, and in walked her
beloved master, who came to the door of the lodge to pay his duties to
his old and faithful servant, whilst an exhalation of the most delicious
fragrance perfumed the small apartment from the boiling consommé which
attracted his scientific attention; after a short inquiry he discovered
in an old brown pan the gloriously smoking hot consommé, and seizing
with avidity a spoon by the side, tasted (much to the astonishment of La
Mère Binard) several spoonfuls, pronouncing the first delicious, the
second excellent, the third delightful, in fact, magnificent. “Can you
spare any of it?” he said, addressing the worthy dame. “Yes,” said she,
“but I am sure Monseigneur does not mean it.” “But indeed I do,” replied
he; “and if I had been aware I could have obtained such a treasure, I
would have had nothing else for my dinner to-day; and if you were not so
far advanced in years I would not object to make you a _cordon bleu_.”
The earthen pan was immediately conveyed up stairs to the dining-room,
and deposited upon the table of his seigneurie, where an excellent
dinner was waiting for himself and friends; but the immortal
_pot-au-feu_, resting on a superb silver tray, with its handle half
broken off, made all the homage of the dinner, to the great annoyance of
the cook, who had thus sacrificed the art he had displayed in dressing a
most recherché dinner, and felt much offended at the whim of his wealthy
master, who had neglected his dinner to take pot-luck with his porter’s
wife.
By a friendly introduction to La Mère Binard, I, with a great deal of
supplication, obtained from her the following valuable receipt, having
been obliged first to listen to the constant repetition of the above
anecdote before she could explain it to me.--“I generally choose,” says
she, “a bit of the _gite à la noix_, part of the aitch-bone, a piece of
the rump, or a slice from the thickest part of the leg, weighing from
four to five pounds, with sufficient fat attached, or adding a small
piece; then I put it into the earthen pan, and fill with cold water till
within two inches of the rim, being about four quarts; then I set it by
my wood fire until beginning to get hot, when a thin scum will arise by
degrees, which I carefully take off and throw away; then I add half a
pound of beef liver, and a tablespoonful and a half of salt, it will
produce more scum, which also carefully remove; have ready prepared,
well washed and clean, two middling-sized carrots cut in halves, then in
four, two small pieces of parsnip, four turnips, two onions, with two
cloves stuck in each, eight young leeks, or two old ones, a head of
celery cut into pieces three inches in length, tie the leeks and celery
into a bunch, and put altogether into the _pot-au-feu_, set it alone
nearer the fire until it commences boiling, skim again, draw it a little
farther to the corner of the fire, put a wooden skimmer across the pot,
upon which rest the lid to prevent its boiling fast, (which would
entirely spoil the soup, the meat becoming very hard and the soup thick
and muddy).” “You quite astonish me, Mrs. Binard,” said I. “Oh,” says
she, “I have had so many years of experience, and I know it to be the
case.” “Yes,” said I, “my dear lady, I do not in the least doubt your
correctness.” “Well, then, one hour afterwards I add a little cold water
to keep it to the same quantity, put in a burnt onion to give it a
colour, and let simmer four hours, sometimes five, depending if the meat
is cut very thick; then I cut some large thin slices of bread, which I
lay at the bottom of the tureen, then I take off the greater part of the
fat, cut the bunch of celery and leeks open, lay them upon the slices of
bread, with one of the carrots, two turnips, and the pieces of parsnip;
take half of the broth with a ladle, which pour into the tureen, (there
being quite enough soup for six of us, myself, Binard, my daughter and
her husband, and the two boys); then I take out carefully the meat,
which I lay upon the dish, with half of the liver at the side, the other
half, when cold, I give to Minette (her favorite cat), lay the remainder
of the vegetables round, with some fine sprigs of fresh parsley; by that
time the bread is (trempé) moistened; set both upon the table at once,
keeping the meat covered until we have done with the soup: that is the
way we dine upon a Sunday. The next day, with the remainder of the broth
I make vermicelli or rice soup, or the same with bread in it, and
fricassée the remainder of the beef in various ways. When my daughter
was ill I used to put a calf’s foot in the _pot-au-feu_ with the beef;
it made the soup very strengthening and did her much good.” “Will you be
kind enough,” said I, “to tell me where you get these burnt onions, for
I perceive without it your soup would be quite white.” “Bless you, sir!”
she replied, “you may get six for two sous at any of the grocers, or you
can burn them yourself in the oven, or by the fireside, gently turning
them now and then until they are quite black, but not burnt to a cinder,
or it would spoil the flavour of the soup.” I then took leave of her,
returning thanks for her kindness, and put down the receipt as she gave
it me during her long explanation, as follows:
RECEIPT. Put in the _pot-au-feu_ six pounds of beef, four quarts of
water, set near the fire; skim, when nearly boiling add a spoonful and a
half of salt, half a pound of liver, two carrots, four turnips, eight
young or two old leeks, one head of celery, two onions and one burnt,
with a clove in each, and a piece of parsnip; skim again and let simmer
four or five hours, adding a little cold water now and then; take off
part of the fat, put slices of bread into the tureen, lay half the
vegetables over, and half the broth, and serve the meat separate with
the vegetables around. Since I have been in England I have broken my
precious earthen pot; I have, however, made some very good soups at home
in a black saucepan or stewpan, but must admit not quite so delicate and
perfect as in the identical _pot de terre_.
SOUPS.--No. 35. _Julienne Soup._ Put about six pounds of knuckle of veal
in a stewpan cut in four pieces, with about half a pound of streaked
bacon; put a piece of butter at the bottom of the stewpan, and about
half a pint of water, place it over a sharp fire, moving it round
occasionally with a wooden spoon until the bottom of the stewpan is
covered with a white glaze, when add about a gallon of water, two ounces
of salt, three onions (with two cloves in each), two turnips, one
carrot, a head of celery, leek, and a bunch of parsley, thyme, and
bay-leaf; when boiling put in two burnt onions (see _Pot-au-feu_) to
colour it, and stand it at the corner of the fire to simmer for two
hours, keeping it well skimmed, then pass the broth through a hair sieve
into a stewpan; you have previously cut two middling-sized carrots, two
turnips, an onion, a leek, and a little celery into very thin strips an
inch long; put them in another stewpan with two ounces of butter and a
teaspoonful of powdered sugar; place it upon a sharp fire, tossing them
over occasionally until well fried and looking transparent, then put
them into the broth with the half a young cos lettuce, and a little
tarragon and chervil, place it at the corner of your fire, and when it
boils skim off all the butter: let it simmer until the vegetables are
perfectly tender, when pour it into your tureen; serve the veal and
piece of bacon upon the dish with melted butter and chopped parsley
over. Beef may also be used for the above, and the vegetables cut in any
of the shapes directed for the soups in the other department of this
work; if you only require a smaller quantity, take only three pounds, or
diminish all in proportion.
No. 36. _Mutton Broth._ Any description of trimmings of mutton may be
used for broth, but the scrag end of the neck is usually chosen. Put
about two scrags into a stewpan (having previously jointed the bone),
with three onions (a couple of cloves stuck in each), three turnips, one
carrot, and a bunch containing a leek, a head of celery, and a few
sprigs of thyme and parsley, fill up the stewpan with rather more than a
gallon of water; when boiling skim it, and place it at the corner of the
stove, where let it simmer for three hours, then cut a small carrot, two
turnips, an onion, and a piece of leek and celery into very small square
pieces, put them into a stewpan with a wineglassful of pearl barley,
pass the broth through a hair sieve over them, and boil at the corner of
the fire until the barley is tender, when it is ready to serve; the meat
may be trimmed into neat pieces, and served in the broth, or separately
with melted butter and parsley, or onion sauce.
No. 37. _Irish Mutton Broth._ This broth is made similar to the last,
adding ten or twelve mealy potatoes cut in large dice, which by boiling
to a purée thickens the broth; just before serving throw in twenty heads
of parsley, at the same time put in a few flowers of marigolds, which
really give a pleasing flavour; it is then ready to serve.
At home I make clear soup of the trimmings of any meat, either beef,
veal, mutton, or lamb, or the trimmings of two or three different sorts
of meat, in the same manner as directed for Julienne soup.
No. 38. _A very simple Receipt for the Scotch Cock-a-Leeky._ This is a
very favorite national soup with the Scotch, which by rights ought to
have been the pride of Welsh cookery, ranking as high in the estimation
of millions as their celebrated and generally appreciated rarebit,
commonly called a Welsh rabbit.
Take six or eight pounds of leg of beef (depending upon the quantity you
want to make), with which make a stock as directed for Julienne soup,
letting simmer two hours, and keeping it well skimmed; in the mean time
trim two or three bunches of fine winter leeks, cutting off the roots
and part of the head, then split each in halves lengthwise, and each
half in three, wash well in two or three waters, pass the stock through
a sieve into another stewpan, into which put the leeks, with a fowl
trussed as for boiling, let simmer very gently at the corner of the fire
for three hours, keeping it well skimmed, season a little if required,
and half an hour before serving add two dozen French plums, without
breaking them; when ready to serve, take out the fowl, which cut into
neat pieces, place in a large tureen, and pour the leeks and broth over,
the leeks being then partly in purée; if too thick, however, add a drop
more broth or water. Should the leeks happen to be old and strong, it
would be better to blanch them five minutes in a gallon of boiling water
previously to putting them with the stock. Although an old cock is
usually procured in Scotland for the above purpose, I prefer a young
one, but should an old one be most handy, stew it a short time in the
stock before passing it.
No. 39. _Ox-tail Soup._ Cut up two ox-tails, separating them at the
joint, put a small piece of butter at the bottom of a stewpan, then put
in the ox-tails, with a carrot, turnip, three onions, head of celery,
one leek, and a bunch of parsley, thyme, and bay-leaf, add half a pint
of water and twelve grains of whole pepper, set over a sharp fire,
stirring occasionally until the bottom of the stewpan is covered with a
thickish brown glaze; then add a quarter of a pound of flour, stir it
well in, and fill up the stewpan with three quarts of water, add a
tablespoonful of salt, stir occasionally until boiling, when set it upon
the corner of the stove, skim well, and let simmer until the tails are
stewed very tender, the flesh coming easily from the bone; take them out
immediately and put them into your tureen; pass the soup, which must not
be too thick, through a hair sieve over them, add a head of celery
previously cut small and blanched in a little stock, and serve.
Ox-tail soup may also be made clear by omitting the flour, and serving
vegetables in it as directed in Julienne soup (No. 35), but cut in any
other shape.
No. 40. _Ox-cheek Soup._ Blanch and wash well two ox-cheeks, cut off the
beard, take away all the bone, which chop up, and cut the flesh into
middling-sized pieces, leaving the cheek part whole, put altogether into
a stewpan, with four quarts of water, a little salt, ten peppercorns,
two carrots, two turnips, one leek, one head of celery, and a bunch of
parsley, thyme, and bay-leaf, also a burnt onion to colour it; let stew
at the corner of the fire six hours, keeping well skimmed, then take out
the fleshy part of the cheek and pass the broth through a hair sieve
into another stewpan, mix half a pound of flour with a pint of cold
broth, which pour into it and stir over the fire until boiling, place it
at the corner, let simmer till tender (adding two heads of celery cut
very fine, and a glass of sherry); when the celery is tender, cut the
meat in small square slices, keep them warm, and when the soup is ready
pour over and serve. Sheep’s or lambs’ heads also make very good soup by
following the above receipt, and adding two pounds of veal, mutton, or
beef to the stock, two heads would be sufficient, and they would not
require so long to stew.
No. 41. _New Mock Turtle Soup._ Procure half a calf’s head (scalded, not
skinned), bone it, then cut up a knuckle of veal, which put into a
stewpan, with half a pound of lean ham, two ounces of butter, one of
salt, at the bottom, a carrot, one turnip, three onions, a head of
celery, a leek, and a bunch of parsley, thyme, marjoram, basil, and a
bay-leaf, with nearly half a pint of water; move round occasionally upon
the fire until the bottom of the stewpan is covered with a white glaze;
then add six quarts of water, and put in the half head, let simmer at
the corner of the fire for two hours and a half, or till the head is
perfectly tender, when take it up and press it between two dishes, pass
the stock through a hair sieve into a basin; then in another stewpan
have a quarter of a pound of butter, with a sprig of thyme, basil,
marjoram, and a bay-leaf, let the butter get quite hot; then add six
ounces of flour to form a roux, stir over a sharp fire a few minutes,
keeping it quite white, stand it off the fire to cool, then add the
stock, boil up, skim, and pass it through a hair sieve into another
stewpan, cut the head into pieces an inch square, not too thick, and put
them into the soup, which season with a little cayenne pepper; when the
pieces are hot, add a gill of cream, and pour it into your tureen. The
above quantity will make several tureens of soup, and will keep good
several days.
No. 42. _Brown Mock Turtle Soup._ Proceed the same as in the last
article, only colouring the stock by drawing it down to a brown glaze,
or with a couple of burnt onions, and serving with a glass of port wine
in it, or two of sherry, omitting the cream.
No. 43. _Mulligatawny Soup._ Cut up a knuckle of veal, which put in a
stewpan with a piece of butter, half a pound of lean ham, a carrot, one
turnip, three onions, six apples, one head of celery, one leek, a bunch
of parsley, thyme, and bay-leaf, a blade of mace, six cloves, and half a
pint of water; set the stewpan over a sharp fire, move the meat round
occasionally, let remain until the bottom of the stewpan is covered with
a brownish glaze; then add two or three tablespoonfuls of currie powder,
one of currie paste, if handy, and half a pound of flour, stir well in,
and fill up with a gallon of water, add a spoonful of salt, half ditto
of sugar, and a quarter ditto of pepper, let boil up; then place it at
the corner of the stove, where let it simmer two hours and a half, then
pass it through a hair sieve into the tureen; trim some of the pieces of
veal, which serve in it, and some plain boiled rice separate; ox-tails
or pieces of rabbits, chickens, &c., left from a previous dinner may be
served in it instead of the veal; if too thick add a drop of broth or
water.
No. 44. _Giblet Soup._ Clean two sets of giblets and soak for two hours,
cut them into equal sizes and put them into a stewpan, with a quarter of
a pound of butter, four pounds of veal or beef, half a pound of ham, a
carrot, turnip, three onions, a head of celery, leek, two ounces of
salt, and a bunch of parsley, thyme, and bay-leaf; place the stewpan
over a sharp fire, stirring the meat round occasionally, when the bottom
of the stewpan is covered with a light glaze add half a pound of flour,
stir well in, and fill up with a gallon of water, add two burnt onions
to colour it; when boiling set at the corner of the stove, let simmer,
skim well, and when the giblets are tender take them out, put them in
your tureen, pass the soup through a hair sieve over, and serve; twenty
button onions, or any small sharp vegetable, is very good in it, also a
glass of port wine.
No. 45. _Green Pea Soup._ Put two quarts of green peas into a stewpan
with a quarter of a pound of butter, quarter of a pound of lean ham cut
in dice, two onions in slices, and a few sprigs of parsley; add a quart
of cold water, and with the hand rub all well together, then pour off
the water, cover the stewpan close and stand it upon a sharp fire,
tossing or stirring them round occasionally; when very tender add two or
three tablespoonfuls of flour, mix well in, mashing the peas with your
spoon against the sides of the stewpan, add three quarts of broth, made
as for Julienne soup (No. 35), or broth from the pot-au-feu (No. 34),
and a tablespoonful of sugar, with a little pepper and salt if required,
boil all well together five minutes; then rub it through a tammie or
hair sieve, put it into another stewpan with half a pint of boiling
milk, boil and skim, then pour it into your tureen, and serve with small
croutons of fried bread-crumbs. It must not be served too thick.
No. 46. _Winter Pea Soup._ Wash a quart of split peas, which put into a
stewpan with half a pound of streaked bacon, two onions in slices, two
pounds of veal or beef cut into small pieces, and a little parsley,
thyme, and bay-leaf, previously passed in butter in the same stewpan;
cover with a gallon of water, add a little salt and sugar, place it upon
the fire; when boiling stand it at the side until the peas are boiled
to a purée, and the water has reduced to half, then take out the meat,
place it in the tureen, keep it hot, and rub the soup through a hair
sieve or tammie, put it into another stewpan, and when boiling pour over
the meat and serve. The bacon is good cold, the meat may also be put
into the tureen if approved of.
No. 47. _Purée, or Vegetable Soup._ Peel and cut up very fine three
onions, three turnips, one carrot, and four potatoes, put them into a
stewpan with a quarter of a pound of butter, the same of lean ham, and a
bunch of parsley, pass them ten minutes over a sharp fire; then add a
good spoonful of flour, mix well in, moisten with two quarts of broth
(prepared as for Julienne soup, No. 35), and a pint of boiling milk,
boil up, keeping it stirred, season with a little salt and sugar, and
rub through a hair sieve or tammie, put it into another stewpan, boil
again, skim, and serve with croutons of fried bread in it.
No. 48. _Soup Maigre._ Cut two onions into very small dice and put them
into a stewpan with two ounces of butter, fry them a short time, but not
to change colour; have three or four handfuls of well-washed sorrel, cut
it into ribands, and put it into the stewpan with the onions, add two
tablespoonfuls of flour, mix well, then a pint of milk and a pint of
water, boil all together ten minutes, season with a little sugar and
salt, and finish with a liaison of two yolks of eggs, mixed with a gill
of cream, stir it in quickly, do not let it boil afterwards; put the
crust of a French roll cut in strips into your tureen, pour the soup
over, and serve.
No. 49. _Onion Soup Maigre._ Peel and cut ten large onions into small
dice, put them into a stewpan with a quarter of a pound of butter, place
them over the fire, fry them well; then add three tablespoonfuls of
flour, which mix well, and rather better than a quart of water, boil
till the onions are quite tender, season with a little salt and sugar,
finish with a liaison, and serve as in the last; grated cheese is an
improvement in it.
No. 50. _Vermicelli Soup._ Make your stock as for Julienne soup (No.
35), when passed put it into another stewpan with two ounces of
vermicelli, boil it a quarter of an hour, then pour it into your tureen,
and serve.
Semolina or tapioca soup is made the same, using either instead of
vermicelli. For rice soup, see No. 197, Kitchen of the Wealthy.
No. 51. _Macaroni Soup._ (See No. 198, and Italian Paste, No. 194,
Kitchen of the Wealthy.)
FISH.--No. 52. _Turbot._ For the methods of cleaning fish, see the other
department of this work. In My Kitchen at Home I should never think of
cooking too large a turbot, but choose a middle-sized one which,
generally speaking, is the best; cut an incision in the back, rub it
well with a good handful of salt, then with the juice of a lemon, set it
in a turbot kettle well covered with cold water, in which you have put a
good handful of salt, place over the fire, and as soon as the water
boils put it at the side; if a turbot of ten pounds it will take an hour
after it has boiled, if it should be allowed to more than simmer it will
be very unsightly; take out of the water, leave a minute upon your
drainer, serve upon a napkin garnished with fresh parsley, and lobster
sauce in a boat; for sauce (see No. 68), or shrimp sauce (No. 73).
No. 53. _Turbot, the new French Fashion._ Boil your turbot as in the
last but dress it upon a dish without a napkin, sauce over with a
thickish melted butter (having placed a border of well-boiled small
potatoes round), sprinkle a few capers over and serve.
No. 54. _Turbot à la Crême_ is done with the remains of a turbot from a
previous dinner; detach the flesh from the bone, and warm in salt and
water, make cream sauce as page 99, only omit a third of the butter.
_Brills_ are cooked in the same manner as turbots, but being smaller do
not require so long boiling; but in boiling any description of fish,
never take it up until it leaves the bone with facility, which try by
placing the point of a knife between the flesh and the bone, if done the
flesh will detach immediately.
No. 55. _John Dorée, Boulogne fashion._ John Dorées, though not very
handsome, are very delicate eating; choose them from four to six pounds
in weight, and boil as directed for turbot; one of the above size would
require about three quarters of an hour; if any remain, dress like
turbot, or with caper sauce, &c.
No. 56. _Salmon, plain boiled._ I prefer always dressing this fish in
slices from an inch or two inches in thickness, boiling it in plenty of
salt and water about half an hour; the whole fish may be boiled, or the
head and shoulders of a large fish, but they require longer boiling.
Salmon eats firmer, by not being put into the water until boiling; dress
the fish upon a napkin and serve with lobster sauce (page 30), shrimp
do., or plain melted butter in a boat, with fresh sprigs of parsley
boiled a few minutes in it. A salmon weighing ten pounds will require an
hour and a half boiling; a head and shoulders weighing six pounds, one
hour. The remains may be dressed à la crême, as directed for the turbot
(No. 54).
No. 57. _Salmon Sauce Matelote._ Cook three good slices of salmon as
directed in the last, or a large salmon peal trussed in the form of the
letter S; dress it upon a dish without a napkin, having previously
drained off all the water; have ready the following sauce: peel fifty
small button onions, then put a good teaspoonful of powdered sugar into
a convenient-sized stewpan, place it upon a sharp fire, and just as the
sugar melts and turns yellowish add a quarter of a pound of butter and
the onions, place it again upon the fire, tossing them over occasionally
until they become slightly browned, then add a good tablespoonful of
flour (mix well, but gently), a glass of sherry, and a pint of broth
(reserved from some soup), let boil at the corner of the stove, skim
well, and when the onions are done and the sauce rather thick, add a
little pepper, salt, a teaspoonful of catsup, one of Harvey sauce, and
one of essence of anchovies; when ready to serve add two dozen of
oysters, blanched and bearded, allow them to get quite hot, sauce over
and serve. I sometimes at home make a few fish quenelles (No. 124,
Kitchen of the Wealthy) and add to the sauce.
The remainder of the above is very good if put in the oven upon a dish
with a cover over and a little additional sauce.