good-sized kitchen basin, and with the right hand work it up well till
it forms quite a white cream; then add one pound powdered sugar, mix
well, add ten eggs by degrees; put to dry a pound and a quarter of
flour, which mix as lightly as possible with it; blanch and cut in
slices two ounces of pistachios, two ditto of green preserved angelica,
add two liqueur glasses of noyeau, two drops of essence of vanilla; whip
a gill and a half of cream till very thick, mix lightly with a wooden
spoon.
LETTER No. XVII
THE DINNER-TABLE.
MY DEAR ELOISE,--I thank you for your kind compliment, but I have
always been of opinion that the arrangements and serving of a
dinner-table, have as much to do with the happiness and pleasure of
a party as the viands which are placed upon it; this I had a
practical proof of last week. Mr. B. and myself were invited to
dine with Mr. D., a city friend, at Balham Hill; I had before met
Mrs. D. at an evening party, at his partner's, at Hackney, and knew
little of her.
Dinner was served pretty punctually, only half an hour after time.
On my entrance in the room, my first glance at the table showed me
that there was a want of _savoir-faire_ in its management: the
plate, very abundant and splendid, was of so yellow a cast that it
looked as if it were plated, and the cut glass was exceedingly dim.
My first surprise was that there were no napkins, the next the soup
plates were quite cold, which I have found often the case in other
houses; after being served with fish, and waiting until it was cold
for the sauce to eat with it, I was rather sceptical how the rest
of the dinner would progress. After the first, the second course
made its appearance, which was heavy and too abundant; the plain
things were well done, but there was only one servant in the room
for the whole party of fourteen, and from the strict formality of
the table, it would have been a sacrilege to have handed your plate
for any vegetables, or anything else you might require. There were
four saltcellars, certainly very massive silver ones, at each
corner of the table, and a beautiful cruet-frame in the centre; the
hot dishes of this course, like the previous one, became cold and
tasteless before being eaten, and during the time the servant was
serving the champagne, all the plates were empty; in fact it was a
good dinner spoilt. The wine drank with less goût than usual, and
the long pauses between the courses made the formality appear still
greater than it really was, and made you wish for the time to
arrive for the cloth to be removed, which was not done, only the
slips, a most awkward undertaking for one servant, and should never
be practised unless having at least two.
About half an hour after the cloth was removed, and just as the
conversation was being thawed from the freezing it received at the
dinner-table, Mrs. D. and the ladies withdrew, and for an hour and
a half we had to bear the insipid conversation of the drawing-room,
the hissing urn on the tea-table bearing a prominent part. Several
messages were sent from time to time to the dining-room that coffee
was ready; and when at last the gentlemen came, two had had quite
wine enough, which caused them to receive sundry angry looks from
their wives who were present, and who were glad to get them into
their carriages which were waiting, and right glad indeed was I
when ours was announced.
This all happened, my dear Eloise, not from meanness; for if money
could have purchased it nothing would have been wanting, but solely
from want of _management_; and every one should think before they
invite their friends to partake of their hospitality, if they know
how to entertain them. Money of course will provide delicacies of
all kinds, but to know how to dispose of those delicacies to the
best advantage, that your friends may appreciate them, is what is
sadly wanting in more than one house I visit.
A very excellent remark is made in _Punch_ by Mr. Brown, in his
Letters to a Young Man about Town, on the subject of great and
little dinners. He says: "Properly considered the quality of the
dinner is twice blest; it blesses him that gives, and him that
takes; a dinner with friendliness is the best of all friendly
meetings--a pompous entertainment, where no love is, is the least
satisfactory."
Our dinner on which you compliment me so much, we sat down twelve,
for although the room and table would accommodate more, yet as my
service of plate is for that number, and the arrangements of the
kitchen are limited, that is the number I prefer, besides beyond
which the conversation becomes partial, which is the bane of a
dinner-table. You know we have no regular man-servant, but for
these occasions I hire two, and place one on each side the table,
and they each have their own side table with a change of everything
that is required. The first thing to be looked to is the lights:
these ought to be so placed as not to intercept the view of any
person at the table, but at the same time they ought to be enough
to show everything off to advantage; I prefer removing some of the
lights from the table to the sideboard when the cloth is removed,
as the light after dinner ought to be more subdued. In laying the
cloth we place it over the baize, and remove it after dinner, as
Mr. B. says he likes to see the mahogany, for when he asks a city
friend to come and put his feet under his mahogany, it looks rather
foolish if he never sees it. I have, as you know, my table rather
wide, that is, six feet, and I generally place a vase of flowers in
the centre, as I think their freshness and odor add greatly to the
appearance of the table, and admit a flanc on each side. We prefer
the old English plan of taking the top and bottom of the table,
instead of I and Mr. B. being together at the side.
The cloth being laid with its proper side uppermost, I order a
napkin, two knives, two prongs, two tablespoons, and two
wine-glasses to be placed to each person, a saltcellar between
every other, that being a condiment which every one uses, though
often wrongly; the cruet-frames and other requisites are kept on
the sideboards. I then have the fish and soup served together, the
potatoes and sauce on the sideboard; I serving the soup, and Mr. B.
the fish, and often a little dish of fried fish, such as smelts,
&c., to remove the soups. This gives me an opportunity of seeing
that my guests are properly attended to, and also leisure of taking
wine with any gentleman who challenges me. During the time this
course has been progressing, the cook has had time to dish up the
removes nice and hot, and get all up close to the door, as I like
as little time as possible to intervene in changing the dishes; and
these consist generally of variously dressed chickens, which I have
before me, as this gives an opportunity for the gentleman on my
right to display his gallantry; but, thanks to Soyer's separator,
this is an easy task. This affords me still further leisure to pay
attention to my guests. Mr. B., who is a capital carver, either has
a saddle or a haunch of mutton, or a quarter of lamb before him,
the rest of the dishes consisting of a tongue and entrées. I select
those most easy to carve, and also easy for the cook to prepare.
This is a period of dinner where a great deal depends upon the
attendants; they should know almost by the look what this lady or
that gentleman require, and what kind of vegetables to hand them; a
first-rate butler should be able to judge by the physiognomy to
whom he should offer mint sauce with the lamb, and who prefers
cayenne; on their attention and hot plates, depends the success of
the substantial part of the dinner.
As soon as I see that all are served, and words are few in
consequence of the organ which utters them being employed in
another way, I give a look to the two servants, which they
understand, and immediately two reports are heard,--they are from
two bottles of champagne, opened at the same time by the
attendants, who have each a salver with six glasses on it; this
takes but a short time to serve, and prepares the palate for the
entrées, which generally get praised; indeed my cook would think
something was wrong if two of the dishes did not go down empty. By
having the champagne thus, I find it goes much further than if only
one bottle was opened at the time, there being sufficient left in
the bottles for a gentleman to challenge a lady to take champagne
with him. If I have game I remove the top and bottom dishes with
them, and make the sweets a separate course, taking care to have
_cold plates_ for the jelly, and having the liquors handed round
when the sweets are on the table; one cheese I place opposite Mr.
B., and macaroni opposite myself. Objections have been made to the
use of napkins, as being of no service at an English dinner-table,
and only a copy of the dirty manners of our neighbors. If we are
more cleanly at the table than they are (which I question), there
is no reason why we should not use that which would make us still
more so; but Mr. B. is so well pleased with the rose water which he
has at the court dinners of his company, that he made me a present
of those two beautiful dishes which you admired so much. The
outside compartment holds rose-water, and the inner one a little
eau-de-cologne; these are placed on salvers, and pass down each
side of the table, the corner of each napkin being dipped into it.
They seem to be absolutely required, and I must say they form a
delightful adjunct to the dinner-table.
He[9] has also introduced at our table, but _only at Christmas_,
another city custom, which the gentlemen seem very much to like,--I
cannot say so for the ladies; it is what he calls a loving cup; he
has it placed before him when the cheese is put on; and after
filling the glass of the lady on each side of him, he rises and
drinks to their health and the rest of the company, and then passes
it to the gentleman on the left, who, in like manner, fills the
glass of the lady on his left, rises, drinks to her health and the
company, and thus it goes round the table. Your husband, my dear
Eloise, thought that the contents were exceedingly good, or, as he
expressed it, nectar fit for the gods, and would like to have the
receipt,--here it is as Mr. B. prepares it:--The cup holds two
quarts; he places in it half a teacupful of capillaire; if he has
none, he uses dissolved lump sugar, with a few drops of
orange-flower water in it, one pint of brown sherry, one bottle of
good _Edinburgh_ ale, mixing these together, and a minute before
placing on the table, adding one bottle of soda water, stirring it
well up till it froths; he then grates some nutmeg on the froth,
and places a piece of toast in it, and sends it to the table with a
napkin through the handle of the cup. I must say, since we have had
this, it has produced some most interesting conversation as
regarded the antiquity of the custom, &c. In addition, Mr. B.
bought the cup at a sale, and it is stated to have been drunk out
of by Henry the Eighth: this of itself is a subject of
conversation, and draws out the talents and conversational powers
of our guests, and one in which ladies can join, as there is hardly
one of our sex who has not read Miss Strickland's "Queens of
England." You have often made the remark, that the time always
appears short whilst we are at table; this is, no doubt, from the
animated conversation which is kept up, for that is the real motive
of meeting together, to enjoy the conversation of one another, to
gain and impart information, and amuse ourselves with the wit and
talent of those around us, and not for the sake of eating and
drinking; yet without the assistance of both of these, the most
sparkling wit would be as heavy as a bad soufflé, and the brightest
talent as dull as my looking-glass on a foggy day.
In order to prolong the time, and to enjoy the gentlemen's society
as much as possible, I do not have the dessert placed on the table
until ten or twenty minutes after the cloth is removed; this also
gives an opportunity for my guests to admire the beautiful Sevres
dessert plates, containing views of the French chateaux; this of
course gives a subject for conversation to those who have visited
them. In the dessert I generally introduce some new importation,
such as bananas, sugar-cane, American lady apples, prickly pears,
&c.; these also give a subject for the gentlemen to talk about when
the ladies have left, as free trade, colonial policy, &c. About
half an hour after the dessert is on the table, and when I see that
the conversation is becoming less general, I retire to the
drawing-room; the servants then remove the dirty glass and plates,
and Mr. B. introduces some of his choice claret or Burgundy in ice
coolers.
You know, my dear Eloise, I allow very little more than half an
hour for us to talk about the last new fashions, or of Mrs. A. and
B.'s cap, and the young ones about their partners at the last ball,
and other nothings, when the tea and coffee are brought up on
salvers; it is always made down stairs, and sent up in cups to the
drawing-room, although Mr. B. had a very handsome silver service
presented to him just after we were married, for serving as an
honorary secretary to some grand masonic festival, yet the milk
ewer and sugar basin are all I allow in the room. This does away
with the formality of the tea-table and the hissing of the tea-urn;
it allows some young gentlemen with a Byron collar and a little
down under his chin to turn over the pages of a music-book for a
young lady at the piano, and make his coffee at the same time; it
allows my dear mamma and Mr. P. to make up their whist table, and
have their tea whilst playing; or, if we make up a quadrille, to
have a few turns of a waltz or polka, the coffee is serving during
the time; whilst this is going on the hand of the clock advances,
and half-past ten soon arrives, and with it Mrs. C.'s fly; Dr. D.'s
brougham is at the door; the party breaks up, delighted with the
evening they have passed in each other's society: and this you see
done with trifling management.
LETTER No. XVIII
DEAREST ELOISE,--You are right in your remark, that there is a
great difference as to the manner and way in which evening parties
or soirées are given in different houses, although being frequented
by the same party or circle. I must say I have my own ideas on this
subject, and I think the French understand this matter much better
than we do, and that we could not do better than imitate them. We
English are a plodding, matter-of-fact people, and carry our
notions into every concern in life: our dinners and entertainments
are given with an ulterior object, and with a view of what may be
gained from it, even from the charitable dinner at the London
Tavern to the man who asks another to partake of a pint of beer
with him at a public-house. It is this, together with ostentation,
which is the bane of society, by bringing together people of
incongruity of ideas, destroying that free exchange of thought
which constitutes the true pleasure of social réunions; we are also
naturally of a reserved and cautious disposition: hence the reason
why the pleasures of a soirée are not felt until after supper. Of
these I am a great advocate, though not to the extravagant and
outré manner many are given in the present day. Of course in the
way most ladies are now educated, they would rather be attending to
the adornment of their persons for the occasion than to the
entertainment and amusement of their guests. Those who can afford
it, are quite right to patronize a first-rate confectioner, and
thus save themselves the trouble; but how many that cannot afford
it do the same thing, and make a bargain for a bad supper with one,
by which he gains little, and the guests great disgust, instead of
doing it at home and ordering a few good things which would look
and eat well. There are a variety of drinks which could be made at
a moderate expense, good and wholesome, and infinitely better than
bad Marsala, which you are often obliged to partake of. I will
enclose you a few receipts for them, and some bills of fare for
suppers for small soirées.
BEVERAGES FOR EVENING PARTIES.
874. _Lemonade._--Peel six lemons free from pith, cut them up in small
pieces, and put them with two cloves in a bottle, with half a pint of
hot water, and place it in a bain-marie, or stewpan, with boiling water,
and let it stand by the side of the fire for one or two hours, taking
care it does not boil; remove it and let it remain until cold; then take
half a pint of lemon-juice, half a pint of capillaire--if none, use
sugar, that will make the same quantity of syrup--to which add a few
drops of orange-flower water; add the infusion of the rind, stir well
together, and add two quarts of cold water. The acidity of some lemons
is greater than others, in which case, and also if using lime-juice,
more capillaire must be used.
875. _Cold Punch._--Proceed as above for lemonade, but add one pint of
capillaire to half a pint of lemon-juice, one pint of pale brandy, one
pint of pale rum, one tablespoonful of arrack, and five quarts of cold
water; let it remain some time before it is decantered.
876. _Port Wine Negus._--Take one quart of new port wine, of a fruity
character, one tablespoonful of spirit of cloves, one teacupful of
sugar, one lemon sliced, half a nutmeg grated, pour over these two
quarts of boiling water.
877. _White Wine Fillip._--Take one bottle of sherry or Madeira, or
champagne, or any other good white wine, a gill of noyeau or maraschino,
the juice of half a lemon, add to it one quart of calf's foot jelly well
sweetened and boiling hot, and serve immediately.
878. _Sandwiches._--In making a large quantity, a stale quartern loaf
should be taken and trimmed free from all crust, and cut into slices the
eighth of an inch in thickness, slightly buttered, and then thin slices
of meat, nicely trimmed, may be laid on and covered with another slice
of bread, and then cut into eight parts; should they be but some time
before they are wanted, they ought to be put one over the other, as they
thus keep moist,--a little mustard and salt may be added to the meat, if
preferred. Some thin slices of gherkin may be added to the meat, and the
same plan can be adopted with pickled fish, brawn or sausages.
The following varies the common mode of making sandwiches:
Take a small quantity of very fresh cream cheese, put it into a basin or
a marble mortar, add some salt, pepper, and a little mustard, beat it
well up until it is of the same consistence as butter; if too hard add a
little of the latter, and use it as butter on the bread, with slices of
meat between. Or make it into salad sandwiches:--cover the bread as
before, and have ready some mustard and cress and water-cresses well
washed and dried, put into a bowl with mayonnaise sauce, and when ready
to serve place it neatly between the bread.
LETTER No. XIX
---- Farm, Essex, July --, 1849.
MY DEAR ELOISE,--You are no doubt surprised at receiving this from
the above address, but you remember when you last called I thought
my little Emily was unwell, the next day she seemed worse, I then
had the Dr.--, who ordered her out of town, and a friend of Mr.
B.'s being present recommended this place; so Emily and I have now
been a week here, and she has already improved by the change of
air; it has also done me good, and I am greatly amused with the
various occupations going on in the farm, which is an old-fashioned
one, tenanted by a good old English farmer, his wife, and son; the
latter is gone to see a brother settled in Liverpool. The
cleanliness and regularity of the house are quite charming; but
what delights me more than all is the dairy--such delicious cream
and butter that it makes me quite envy people living in the
country!
I must describe the pretty dairy to you: it is situated at the back
of the house, and sheltered by it from the mid-day and afternoon's
sun, and from the morning's sun by a plantation, so that it is
deliciously cool; it is about twelve feet long by ten wide, paved
with flat stones, and the walls of plaster, like stone, a door at
one end with a window above and a window high up at the other end,
and two windows at the side; these have thin wire shutters and
glazed sashes on hinges; the roof is of slate, with about two feet
thickness of thatch over it; there are also several little openings
for the admission of air, about one inch from the floor. A dresser,
two feet wide, being two inches from the wall, is on both sides,
and above these are two shelves of nine inches wide, also two
inches from the wall, these are supported on iron brackets. At the
end, and opposite the door, is the churn, which is turned by a
wheel outside, with apparatus for a donkey or mule to work it, if
required.
All the utensils are of sycamore wood and perfectly clean, never
used twice without washing in hot water with soda put in it, and
made perfectly dry.
There are as many ways of making butter as there are counties in
Great Britain. I will now tell you how it is practised here. The
cows are milked at a regular hour, not later than five, the milk
taken as soon as possible into the dairy, and placed in the dishes
about six quarts in each; is thus left for twenty-four hours; then
it is skimmed, and the cream from each is placed in a deep bowl or
pan, where it remains until the next day, when it is churned.
Friday's milk is made into cheese; when churned it is gathered
well together from the milk and laid in a clean bowl, with hard
spring water in it, and worked to and fro until it is brought to a
firm consistence; it is then laid out thin, and then what is called
here a scotcher is taken--that is, a kind of five-pronged fork of
wood, only each prong is as sharp as a knife, and drawn through
every part of it; then whatever salt is required is added, and it
is then formed into pats, or done any way they like. If intended as
corned or salt butter, they then add one pound of fine salt to
every fourteen pounds of butter; in some places the coarsest
grained salt is used; in others two pounds of salt, one pound of
saltpetre, and one pound of white sugar mixed together, one fourth
of this for every fourteen pounds. If intended for keeping, it is
put into stone crocks until it is wanted. The way in which they
make the cheese here is as follows: all Friday's milk is taken,
that of the morning is kept until the afternoon, and mixed with it;
then two spoonfuls of rennet to every twelve quarts of milk are put
to it and well mixed, it is then left all night. Very early the
next morning the curd is removed with a strainer and equally broken
into the cheese vat or mote until it is about one inch above the
brim, a cheese cloth or strainer having previously been put at the
bottom of the vat, and large enough to allow for part of it to be
turned over the top when the vat is filled; when thus filled it is
taken to the press, and left for two hours with a clean cloth under
it; it is then turned over on the cloth, and pressed again; and the
same process is continued three or four hours out of the
twenty-four. It is then removed and placed on the shelf, and turned
regularly every day for the first two months; after that
occasionally.
I intend to try my hand at it shortly, and see what I can make of
it.
I find that the butter which is made here and potted for winter use
is not intended to be sold as salt, but as fresh, and the
dairy-maid has just told me how it is done. For every quart of new
milk from the cow, she takes one pound of potted butter, which has
been treated thus the day previous: into two quarts of cold water
two tablespoonfuls of vinegar are mixed, and the potted butter well
broken and kneaded in it, and then taken out, and served the same
in fresh water, in which it is left until the next morning, and
then mixed with the milk, put into the churn and churned again, and
then treated in the usual way as butter; by this plan there is a
large quantity of sweet milk always in the farm, as it is
exceedingly good when strained.
The following is the way they make the clouted cream:--
879. _Clouted Cream._--Strain the milk as soon as it comes from the cow
into wide pans, holding about six quarts each, so as to be about three
inches deep, and let it remain for twenty-four hours; then gently place
the pan upon a hot plate or slow charcoal fire, which must heat it very
gently, for if it boils it is spoilt; as soon as the cream forms a ring
in the middle, remove a little with the finger, and if there are a few
bubbles rise in the place where you do so, it is done, which will be in
half to three quarters of an hour; remove it from the fire, and let it
remain twenty-four hours; then skim it, and throw a little sugar on the
top.
CONVERSATION ON HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
_Mrs. R._ After all the receipts and information which you have
given me, there is one which you have not touched upon yet, which,
perhaps, is of more importance than all the rest, it is the
management of servants.