Backbone stewed, and served with sweet potatoes, hot corn bread, and

sparkling cider, was certainly not to be despised. The stewing was

gentle, the seasoning well blended--enough salt but not too much, red

and black pepper, and the merest dash of pepper vinegar. Many cooks left

the vinegar to be added in the plates. There was little water at the

beginning, and next to none at the end--the kettle was kept well

covered, and not allowed to boil over. Backbone pie held its own with

chicken pie--indeed there were those who preferred it. It was made the

same way--in a skillet or deep pan lined with rich crust, then filled

with cooked meat, adding strips of bacon, and bits of butter rolled in

flour, as well as strips of crust. Then the stewing liquor went into the

crevices--there might also be a few very tiny crisp brown

sausages--cakes no bigger than a lady's watch. Over all came a thick,

rich crust, with a cross-cut in the middle, and corners turned deftly

back. When the crust was brown the pie was done.

No doubt we were foolish--but somehow the regular "cases" made our

sausages unappetizing if we put it into them for keeping. Further the

"Tom Thumbs" were in great request for chitterlings--I never saw them

served to white folks but have smelled their savoriness in the cabins.

That is, however, beside the mark. We saved our sausage against the

spring scarcity in several ways. One was to fry it in quantity, pack the

cakes as fried in crocks, pour over them the gravy, and when the jar was

almost full, cover the top an inch deep with melted lard. Kept cool and

dark the cakes came out as good as they went in. Still there were

palates that craved smoked sausage. To satisfy them, some folk tied up

the meat in links of clean corn husks, and hung them at the side where

the smoke barely touched them. Another way was to make small bags of

stout unbleached muslin, fill, tie close, dip the bag in melted grease,

cool and smoke. The dipping was not really essential--still it kept the

sausage a little fresher. Latterly I have been wondering if paraffin had

been known then whether or not it would have served better than grease.

[Illustration: _Hams and Other Hams_]

The proper boiling of a proper ham reaches the level of high art. Proper

boiling makes any sound ham tolerable eating; conversely a crass and

hasty cook can spoil utterly this crowning mercy of the smokehouse. Yet

proper cooking is not a recondite process, nor one beyond the simplest

intelligence. It means first and most, pains and patience, with somewhat

of foresight, and something more of judgment.

Cut off the hock, but not too high--barely the slender shankbone. Then

go all over the ham with a dull knife, scraping off every bit of

removable grease or soilure. Wipe afterward with a coarse, damp cloth,

then lay in a dishpan and cover an inch deep with cold water. If the

water is very hard soften by adding a tiny pinch of baking soda. Leave

in soak all night. In the morning wash well all over, using your coarse

cloth, and a little scouring soap, then rinse well in tepid water,

followed by a second rinsing in cold water, drain, and wipe dry. A

flat-bottomed boiler is best--with one rounding, there is greater risk

of scorching. Set a rack on the bottom else an old dish or earthen

pieplate, pour in an inch of water, set over the fire, lay the ham upon

the rack, skin side down, and fill up with cold water till it stands two

inches above the meat. Take care in adding the water not to dislodge the

ham from the rack. Bring the water to a boil, throw in a pint of cold

water and skim the boiler very clean, going over it twice or three

times. After the last skimming add half a dozen whole cloves, a dozen

whole alspice, a pod of red pepper, a few whole grains of black pepper,

and if you like, a young onion or a stalk of celery. Personally I do

not like either onion or celery--moreover they taint the fat one may

save from the pot. Let the water boil hard for half a minute, no longer,

then slack heat till it barely simmers. Keep it simmering, filling up

the pot as the water in it boils away, until the ham is tender

throughout. The time depends on several things--the hardness and age of

the ham, weight, curing. Fifteen minutes to the pound, reckoned from the

beginning of simmering, is the standard allowance. I have no hard and

fast rule--my hams boil always until the fork pierces them readily, and

the hip-bone stands clear of flesh.

A big ham, fifteen to twenty pounds weight, had better be left in the

water overnight. A smaller one, say of ten pounds weight, should remain

only until thoroughly cold. Take up carefully when cold, let drain

twenty minutes, lying flesh side up in a flat dish, then trim off the

under side and edges neatly, removing rusty fat, strings, etc., and

cutting through the skin at the hock end. Turn over and remove the

skin--taking care not to tear away too much fat with it. Remove the ham

to a clean, deep dish, or bowl--the closer fitting the better, then pour

around it either sound claret, or sweet cider, till it stands half way

up the sides. Add a little tabasco or Worcester to the liquor, if high

flavors are approved. Then stick whole cloves in a lozenge pattern all

over the fat, sprinkle on thickly red and black pepper, and last of all,

sugar--brown sugar if to be had, but white will do.

Leave standing several hours, basting once or twice with the liquor in

the bowl. Take out, set on a rack in an agate pan, pour the liquor

underneath, and bake slowly one to two hours, according to size. Baste

every fifteen minutes, adding water as the liquor cooks away. Beware

scorching--the ham should be a beautiful speckly dark brown all over.

Let cool uncovered, and keep cool, but not on ice until eaten.

Drop a lump of ice in the boiling liquor unless the weather is

cold--then set it outside. As soon as the fat on top hardens take it

off, boil it fifteen minutes in clear water, chill, skim off, and

clarify by frying slices of raw potato in it. The spices will have sunk

to the bottom, and there will be no trace of their flavor in the fat.

Any boiling vegetable--cabbage, string beans, navy beans, greens in

general--may be cooked to advantage in the liquor. It also serves as an

excellent foundation for pea soup. Drain it off from the sediment,

reduce a trifle by quick boiling, then add the other things. Dumplings

of sound cornmeal, wet up stiff, shaped the size of an egg, and dropped

in the boiling liquor, furnish a luncheon dish cheap and appetizing.

Fried ham as Mammy made it is mostly a fragrant memory--only plutocrats

dare indulge in it these days. She cut thin slices from the juicy, thick

part of the ham, using a very sharp, clean knife. Then she trimmed away

the skin, and laid the slices in a clean, hot skillet--but not too hot.

In about a minute she flipped them over delicately, so as to sear the

other side. When enough fat had been tried out to bubble a bit, she

turned them again, then set the skillet off, deadened the coals beneath

it a little--put it back, and let the ham cook until tender through and

through. She never washed the slices nor even wiped them with damp

cloths. There was no need--her hands and knife were as clean as could

be. Washing and wiping spoiled the flavor, she said. I agree with her.

After the ham was taken up, she poured in milk, half cream, shook it

well about in the hissing hot fat until it had taken up all the

delicious brown essence caked on the skillet bottom. This milk gravy was

poured over the slices in the platter. A practice I have never

followed--my gravy is made with water rather than milk, and served

separately.

Invalids and gourmets may be indulged with boiled ham, broiled over live

coals. Slice very thin, lay for half a minute upon a shovel of glowing

fresh coals, take up in a very hot dish, butter liberally, dust with

pepper and serve very hot. To frizzle ham slice as thin as possible in

tiny bits, and toss the bits till curly-crisp in blazing hot butter.

Excellent as an appetizer or to raise a thirst.

For ham and eggs slice and fry as directed, take up, break fresh eggs

separately each in a saucer, and slip them into the fat when it is

bubbling hot. Dip hot fat over them to cook the upper side--take up with

a cake turner, and arrange prettily as a border around the ham. Sprigs

of watercress outside add to the appetizing effect. Serve with hot

biscuit, or waffles or muffins, and strong, clear coffee.

Tart apples cored but not peeled sliced in rings and fried in hot fat,

drained out and sprinkled lightly with sugar, add to the charm of even

the finest ham. So does hominy, the full-grained sort, boiled tender

beforehand, and fried till there is a thick, brown crust all over the

skillet bottom. The secret of these as of all other fryings, is to have

grease enough, make it hot enough to crisp whatever goes into it

instantly, then to watch so there shall be no scorching, and take out

what is fried as soon as done, draining well. Among the paradoxes of

cookery is this--frying with scant grease makes greasy eating, whereas

frying in deep fat, sufficiently hot, makes the reverse.

Sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced, deserve frying in ham fat. Well

drained, dusted with salt, pepper, and sugar, they are delicious, also

most digestible. Frying is indeed the method of cookery most misprised

through its abuse. In capable hands it achieves results no-otherwise

attainable.

A perfect mutton ham is a matter of grace no less premeditation. It must

be cut from a wether at least four years old, grass fed, grain finished,

neither too fat, nor too lean, scientifically butchered in clear,

frosty, but not freezing weather, and hung unsalted in clean, cold air

for a matter of three days. Saw off shank and hip bones neatly, and cut

the meat smooth, removing any tags and jags, then pack down in an agate

or clean wooden vessel that has been scalded, then chilled. Half cover

with a marinade thus proportioned. One pint pickling salt to one gallon

cold water, boil and skim clean, then add one pint vinegar, a dozen each

of whole cloves, allspice and pepper corns, a pod of red pepper, a

teaspoon of powdered saltpeter, and a small cup of oil. Simmer for half

an hour, and cool before pouring on the meat. Let it lie in the liquor a

week, turning it twice daily. Take from marinade, wipe, and lay in air,

return the marinade to the fire, boil up, skim well, then add enough

plain brine to fully cover the hams, skim again, cool and pour over,

first scalding out the containing vessel. Let stand a week longer, then

drain well, wipe with a damp cloth, rub over outside with a mixture of

salt, moist sugar, and ground black pepper, and hang in a cool, airy

place where the hams can be lightly smoked for a fortnight.

Winter-curing, or late fall, alone is possible to the average

householder. After smoking, wrap in waxed paper, and canvas the same as

other hams.

Cook the same as venison, which mutton thus cured much resembles. Slice

and broil, serving with butter and very sour jelly, else boil whole in

very little water until tender, glazing with tart jelly, and crisping in

the oven after draining and cooling. Or soak two hours in cold water,

then cover completely with an inch-thick crust of flour and water mixed

stiff, and bake in a slow oven four to five hours. Serve always with

very piquant sauce, and sharp pickle, or highly spiced catsups. Make

jelly from wild grapes, wild plums, green grapes, green gooseberries or

crab apples, using half the usual amount of sugar, especially for such

meat.

Melt half a glass of such jelly with a tablespoon of boiling water. Add

black pepper, paprika, a dash of tabasco, and the strained juice of a

lemon, add gradually a teaspoon of dry mustard. Cook over hot water

until well mixed and smooth, and keep hot until served.

Beef hams are troublesome--but worth the trouble. Take them from small

but well fatted animals, cut off the shank, also part of the top round.

Rub over very scantly with powdered saltpeter, mixed well through moist

sugar, then lay down in salt for a fortnight, else cover with brine made

thus. Pint pickling salt to the gallon of cold water, teaspoon sugar,

and pinch of whole cloves. Boil and skim. Pour cold over the hams in a

clean barrel. Let stand a fortnight, take out, drain and wipe, rub over

with dry salt, and hang high in cold air. Smoke lightly after three

days. Keep smoking, but not too much, for a month. Cover all over with

ground black pepper, mixed to a paste with molasses, canvas and leave

hanging.

Slice and broil, else chip and serve raw. Frizzling is possible but a

waste of God's good mercies. Properly cured meat is salt but not too

salt, of a deep blackish-red, and when sliced thin, partly translucent,

also of an indescribable savoriness. Cut as nearly as possible, across

the grain. Do not undertake to make beef hams save in the late fall, so

there may be cold weather for the curing. The meat must be chilled

through before salt touches it, but freezing is very detrimental. Frozen

meat does not absorb the salt, sugar, etc., essential to proper curing.

By time it thaws so absorption becomes possible, there may have been

changes such as take place in cold storage, unfitting it for food. If

the beef ham is thick it may need to lie a month in salt or in brine.

Here as elsewhere, the element of judgment comes into play.

If rabbits are very plenty and very fat, put down a jar of hindquarters

in marinade for three days, then wipe, and hang in a cold, dry place. A

rabbit ought to be dressed before it is cold--thus it escapes the strong

flavor which makes market rabbits often unendurable. Chill but do not

freeze after dressing. A light smoking does not hurt the quarters, which

should be left double, with the thick loin between. Soak two hours

before cooking, and smother with plenty of butter, black and red pepper

and a dash of pepper vinegar. An excellent breakfast or luncheon relish.

To cook a fresh ham properly, choose one weighing ten pounds or less,

scrape and wash clean, score the skin, all over, then season well with

salt, sugar, black and red pepper, and dot with tabasco on top. Set on a

rack in a deep pan, pour boiling water underneath to barely touch the

meat, cover close, and bake in a hot oven for two hours, filling up the

water in the pan as it bakes away. Uncover, and cook for half an hour

longer, slacking heat one half, and basting the meat with the liquor in

the pan. If approved add a cup of cider or sound claret to the basting

liquor. Leave unbasted for ten minutes before taking up, so the skin may

be properly crisp.

[Illustration: _For Thirsty Souls_]

_Grandmother's Cherry Bounce_: Rinse a clean, empty whiskey barrel well

with cold water, drain, and fill with very ripe Morello cherries, mixed

with black wild cherries. One gallon wild cherries to five of Morellos

is about the proper proportion. Strew scantly through the cherries,

blade mace, whole cloves, allspice, a very little bruised ginger, and

grated nutmeg. Add to a full barrel of fruit twenty pounds of sugar--or

in the proportion of half a pound to the gallon of fruit. Cover the

fruit an inch deep with good corn whiskey, the older and milder the

better. Leave out the bung but cover the opening with lawn. Let stand

six months undisturbed in a dry, airy place, rather warm. Rack off into

a clean barrel, let stand six months longer, then bottle or put in

demijohns. This improves greatly with age up to the fifth year--after

that the change is unappreciable.

_Grape Cider_: Fill a clean, tight, well-scalded barrel with ripe wild

grapes picked from their stems. Add spices if you like, but they can be

left out. Fill the vessel with new cider, the sweeter the better. There

should be room left to ferment. Cover the bung-hole with thin cloth and

let stand in dry air four to six months. Rack off and bottle. This also

improves with age. It is a drink to be used with caution--mild as May in

the mouth, but heady, and overcoming, especially to those unused to its

seductions.

_Persimmon Beer_: The poor relation of champagne--with the advantage

that nobody is ever the worse for drinking it. To make it, take

full-ripe persimmons, the juicier the better, free them of stalks and

calyxes, then mash thoroughly, and add enough wheat bran or middlings

to make a stiffish dough. Form the dough into thin, flat cakes, which

bake crisp in a slow oven. When cold break them up in a clean barrel,

and fill it with filtered rainwater. A bushel of persimmons before

mashing will make a barrel of beer. Set the barrel upright, covered with

a thin cloth, in a warm, dry place, free of taints. Let stand until the

beer works--the persimmon cakes will rise and stand in a foamy mass on

top. After three to four weeks, either move the barrel to a cold place,

or rack off the beer into bottles or demijohns, tieing down the corks,

and keeping the bottled stuff very cool. The more meaty and flavorous

the persimmons, the richer will be the beer. Beware of putting in fruit

that has not felt the touch of frost, so retains a rough tang. A very

little of it will spoil a whole brewing of beer. If the beer is left

standing in the barrel a wooden cover should be laid over the cloth,

after it is done working. Fermentation can be hastened by putting in

with the persimmon cakes a slice of toast dipped in quick yeast. But if

the temperature is right, the beer will ferment itself.

_Egg Nogg_: Have all ingredients, eggs, sugar, brandy, and whiskey,

thoroughly chilled before beginning, and work very, very quickly. Beat

the yolks of eighteen eggs very light with six cups of granulated sugar,

added a cup at a time. When frothy and pale yellow, beat in gradually

and alternately a glassful at a time, a quart of mellow old whiskey, and

a quart of real French brandy. Whip hard, then add the whites of the

eggs beaten till they stick to the dish. Grate nutmeg over the top, and

rub the rims of the serving glasses with lemon or orange rind cut into

the fruit. The glasses should be ice-cold, also the spoons. Fill

carefully so as not to slop the sides, and serve at once.

If wanted for an early morning Christmas celebration, beat up yolks and

sugar the night before, stand on ice along with the liquor, and keep the

unbeaten whites likewise very cold. At morning freshen the yolks a

little, then add the liquor, and at last the whites newly frothed. This

is the only simon-pure Christmas egg nogg. Those who put into it milk,

cream, what not, especially rum, defile one of the finest among

Christmas delights.

_White Egg Nogg_: For invalids, especially fever patients. Whip the

white of a new laid egg as stiff as possible with the least suspicion of

salt. Add to it three heaping spoonfuls of sterilized cream whipped

light, beat in two tablespoonfuls of powdered sugar, then add a gill of

the best French brandy. A variant is to omit the sugar and mix with the

frothed egg and cream more than a gill of vermouth, using French or

Italian, according to taste.

_Apple Toddy_: Wash and core, but do not peel, six large, fair apples,

bake, covered, until tender through and through, put into an earthen

bowl and strew with cloves, mace, and bruised ginger, also six lumps of

Domino sugar for each apple. Pour over a quart of full-boiling water,

let stand covered fifteen minutes in a warm place. Then add a quart of

mellow whiskey, leave standing ten minutes longer, and keep warm. Serve

in big deep goblets, putting an apple or half of one in the bottom of

each, and filling with the liquor. Grate nutmeg on top just at the

minute of serving.

_Hail Storm_: Mix equal quantities of clear ice, broken small, and the

best lump sugar. Cover the mixture fully with good brandy, put in a

shaker, shake hard five minutes, then pour into glasses, and serve with

a fresh mint leaf floating on top.

_Mint Julep_: This requires the best of everything if you would have it

in perfection. Especially the mint and the whiskey or brandy. Choose

tender, quick-grown mint, leafy, not long-stalked and coarse, wash it

very clean, taking care not to bruise it in the least, and lay in a

clean cloth upon ice. Chill the spirits likewise. Put the sugar and

water in a clean fruit jar, and set on ice. Do this at least six hours

before serving so the sugar shall be fully dissolved. Four lumps to the

large goblet is about right--with half a gobletful of fresh cold water.

At serving time, rub a zest of lemon around the rim of each goblet--the

goblets must be well chilled--then half fill with the dissolved sugar,

add a tablespoonful of cracked ice, and stand sprigs of mint thickly all

around the rim. Set the goblets in the tray, then fill up with whiskey

or brandy or both, mixed--the mixture is best with brands that blend

smoothly. Drop in the middle a fresh ripe strawberry, or cherry, or

slice of red peach, and serve at once. Fruit can be left out without

harm to flavor--it is mainly for the satisfaction of the eye. But never

by any chance bruise the mint--it will give an acrid flavor "most

tolerable and not to be endured." To get the real old-time effect, serve

with spoons in the goblets rather than straws. In dipping and sipping

more of the mint-essence comes out--beside the clinking of the spoons is

nearly as refreshing as the tinkle of the ice.

_Lemon Punch_: Bring a gallon of fresh water to a bubbling boil in a

wide kettle, and as it strikes full boil throw into it a tablespoonful

of tea--whatever brand you like best. Let boil one minute--no more, no

less, then strain, boiling hot, upon the juice and thin yellow peel of

twelve large or eighteen small lemons, along with two pounds of lump

sugar. Stir hard until the sugar is dissolved, then add a pint of rum.

Stand on ice twelve to twenty-four hours to blend and ripen. Put a small

block of clear ice in the punch bowl, pour in the punch, then add to it

either Maraschino cherries, or hulled small ripe strawberries, or

pineapple or bananas, peeled and cut in tiny dice--or a mixture of all

these. Serve in chilled punch cups, with after-dinner coffee spoons for

the fruit. The fruit can be left out, and the punch served with

sandwiches the same as iced tea. A wineglass of yellow chartreuse, added

just after the rum, is to many palates an improvement. So is a very

little peach or apricot brandy.

_Punch à la Ruffle Shirts_: This recipe comes down from the epoch of

knee buckles and ruffled shirts, and is warranted to more than hold its

own with any other--even the so-famous "Artillery punch," beloved of

army and navy. To make it, scrub clean and pare thinly the yellow peel

of two dozen oranges and one dozen lemons. Put the pared peel in a deep

glass pitcher and cover it with one quart of brandy, one quart of old

whiskey, one generous pint of Jamaica rum, one tumbler of cherry bounce,

one tumbler of peach liqueur, or else a tumbler of "peach and honey,"

Cover with cloth and let stand three days off ice to blend and ripen.

Meantime squeeze and strain the juice of the oranges and lemons upon

four pounds of best lump sugar, shred a large, very ripe pineapple fine

and put it with another pound of sugar in a separate vessel. Hull half a

gallon of ripe strawberries, cover them liberally with sugar and let

stand to extract the juice. Lacking strawberries, use ripe peaches, or

blackberries or even seeded cherries. Keep the fruit and sugar cool, but

not too cold--just so it will not sour. Upon the third morning strain

the juice of all fruits together, and mix thoroughly. Next make a gallon

of weak green tea, strain it boiling hot upon the liquor and the yellow

peel, stir well, then mix in the fruit juices and sugar, and let stand

uncovered until cool. Chill thoroughly, also chill the wine. Use

whatever sort you prefer--claret, sound and fruity, is good, so is

almost any homemade wine of the first class. American champagne pleases

some palates. But I advise rather claret, or good homemade grape wine.

Put into the punch bowl a block of clear ice, add equal measures of the

mixture and the wine. Let stand half an hour before serving. Put in at

the very last vichy, ice-cold. Thin strips of fresh cucumber peel add a

trifle to flavor and more to looks.

The wine and mixture can be poured together into demijohns and kept for

months, provided they are kept cool. Since the making is rather

troublesome it is worth while to make the full quantity at once and keep

it on hand for emergencies. Commercial liqueurs can take the place of

the homemade ones here set forth. The result may not be quite so

distinctive, but will not be disappointing. Dry sherry is a good

substitute for cherry bounce, likewise apricot brandy, while vermouth or

chartreuse will answer for peach liqueur, which is unlikely to be in

hand unless you are a very old-fashioned housekeeper.

Dishes & Beverages of the Old South · 第 2 / 12 段