ices and frozen creams through charlottes, jellies, and the like, to
the simple blanc-manges and custards, to say nothing of preserved or
brandied fruit. Pies of countless kinds there are which can readily be
heated, if a hot dessert is wished, and there are delicious cakes which
are almost a dessert in themselves. Besides all these, in this favored
period, there is scarcely a day in the year when an attractive dish of
fresh fruit is beyond the reach of people of moderate means.
While anything approaching a desecration of the Sabbath is to be
avoided, there should yet be a cheerfulness, a pleasant freedom of
speech at the Sunday dinner-table that ought to render it the happiest
meal of the week. It is not the season for ceremonious entertaining—a
large Sunday dinner-party is not in America in the best form, even in
so-called worldly society—but it is the time for making a place within
the circle of the home for solitary men or women far from their own
people, who have only boarding-places or restaurants at which to eat
their Sunday dinner. To them even a simple meal, eaten in a private
house and among friends, is a choice treat, and inviting them is a deed
which may fitly be classed among the works of mercy which even the
Westminster Catechism permits.
THE SMALL DINNER-PARTY
There has been so much written about the giving of dinner-parties that
the manager of a small household may well shrink in dismay from the
labor that obedience to such rules would lay upon her. When she reads
descriptions of tables spread with the most costly glass, silver, and
china, of courses consisting of delicacies prepared from intricate
directions, and served by three or four trained servants—her heart
sinks with dismay, and she gives up then and there the attempt to
entertain her friends at dinner.
Such instructions may be of value to those _nouveaux riches_ who are
at a loss how to conduct a feast where expense is no object. Even for
them it seems as though it would be easier to consign a big dinner to
the charge of a professional caterer than to drill their own servants
into fitness for preparing and serving such a repast as some of these
manuals describe. But there are many women who wish to entertain
gracefully, and yet who have neither the means nor the inclination
to attempt doing so on a large or costly scale. Possessing plenty of
pretty napery, silver, and china, having tolerably good cooks and
well-trained waitresses, they feel themselves fairly equipped for
giving small dinners, especially when they may order some of the most
difficult dainties from outside. They need not be appalled by the list
of what are to the majority of them unattainable adjuncts, that are
declared by writers on the complete art of dining to be indispensable
to a correct dinner. Those who are fitted by circumstances to follow
these are few indeed compared with the army of the moderately
well-to-do who find such elegance quite beyond their modest means.
So let these pluck up heart of grace, and, instead of obeying the
quite natural impulse which ensues upon the perusal of the aforesaid
discouraging guide-books to entertaining and renouncing their plans of
hospitality, resolve rather to use their own common-sense and good
judgment, and give dinners in consonance with these.
Of course there are certain rules for setting the table, directing
the proper sequence of courses, and for the waiting, whose observance
marks familiarity with the etiquette of dining, and whose absence
denotes ignorance; but these are so simple, so universal, and so
readily learned that once known it is easier to follow them than to
devise new ways. Among the many advantages of practising every day the
proper methods of serving and waiting is especially this, that when an
emergency of this sort arises, there need be only an extension of daily
customs, not a total departure from ordinary habits.
The etiquette of a small dinner is essentially the same as that of
a large one. Any woman who is sure of her _cuisine_, and who has a
waitress accustomed to her work, can give a pretty little dinner,
and there is no pleasanter way of entertaining a few friends whom
one especially wishes to honor. For a party of this sort, six is a
good number. When one goes beyond that, the necessity for a more
ceremonious etiquette, a more imposing bill of fare, arises, and this
the woman who gives only little dinners wishes to shun.
In setting the table, care must be taken to avoid the one extreme
of over-crowding, and the other of placing the guests so far apart
that _tête-à-tête_ conversations are difficult. In as small a company
as this the talk is apt to be general, but occasionally there is
an opportunity for a duet if the seats are near enough together to
allow two of their occupants to carry on a low-voiced chat without
distracting the attention of the other guests from their own topics of
discussion.
In the arrangement of dishes, knives, forks, etc., about the same rules
are followed that apply for luncheon-parties. A fork and a knife for
each course—the forks laid at the left of the plate, the knives at
the right, the soup spoon across the top of the plate—the usual array
of salt-cellar, butter-plate (the latter is often omitted at dinner),
the glasses for wine and for water, the folded napkin holding a dinner
roll, the card, the _menu_, the individual flowers—all are much the
same as at a luncheon. The table-cloth should be of the heaviest and
handsomest damask, the centre-piece, the floral decorations, the
candelabra, with their candles and silk shades, the dishes, containing
_hors-d'œuvres_, bonbons, _glacé_ fruits, etc., differ little from the
similar array on the table at a formal luncheon. The same general plan
is to be followed in serving the courses. The dinner usually begins
with oysters or clams. Next comes a soup—_consommé_, or a cream soup of
some really choice variety. A clear soup is to be preferred as being
light and easily digested, and since one does not wish to begin the
meal by overloading the stomach, it is better on that account than a
cream soup or a _purée_.
Fish comes next, and this should be, as is everything else served
at a dinner, either choice on account of its rarity, or because of
the excellent fashion in which it is cooked. A piece of salmon or of
baked halibut with a _sauce hollandaise_ is good, or, in their season,
salmon trout or any other game fish. Potatoes in some form are served
with this course. This is succeeded by an _entrée_, and that in turn
by the principal meat course of the dinner, usually _filet de bœuf_,
accompanied by one or two fine vegetables. Next comes Roman punch, then
game or poultry, followed or accompanied by salad, and after that is
the dessert—pastry, ices, creams, fruits, coffee, etc. As may be seen
by comparing this outline with the directions given for a luncheon, the
two are very much alike. The chief difference is in the kinds of food.
Those served at a dinner are generally of a more solid character than
those prepared for a luncheon. The latter consists chiefly of _petits
plats_.
A small dinner should not last much more than an hour and a half. It
is readily disposed of in that length of time if the cook has the
courses ready promptly, and if the waitress understands her business.
All the carving should be done off the table. The plates should be put
in front of the guests from the right side, and removed from the left.
Of course, whatever dish is passed must be offered from the left side.
To prevent mistakes the hostess should write out a full list of all
the courses, what dishes each comprises, and from what china they are
to be served, noting, too, when there is a change of silver. A copy of
this schedule should be in the hands of the cook, while the butler or
waitress should have a duplicate pinned up in a convenient place in the
butler's pantry, to serve as a reference in case the memory of one of
them should play false.
While caterers can be found who will supply almost any dish which
may be suggested, a graceful touch of individuality is imparted to a
dinner if certain _plats_ are prepared at home. Only, they must be well
done, or they were better omitted altogether. The ices, biscuit, and
Charlottes usually come from outside, but the _entrées_ and salads,
as well as soup, and the fish, meat, and game, may be prepared in the
house, and be none the worse on that account.
Coffee is sometimes served in the dining-room, but quite as often
passed in the parlor. It is never in good taste to have a large
assortment of wines at a small dinner. Claret and champagne are quite
enough, or even claret alone is sufficient.
When the hostess is ordering her dinner, she should bear in mind who
her guests are to be, and arrange her bill of fare in accordance with
her bill of company. The advisability of this is illustrated in the
anecdote told of an English restaurateur who, on being ordered to
prepare a dinner for twelve clergymen, begged respectfully to know if
they were High-Church or Broad-Church, "for hif 'Igh-Church, they wants
more wine; hif Broad-Church, more wittles."
It is not worth while to prepare highly spiced _entremets_ and dishes
of mushrooms and terrapin for guests who would be better suited with
plainer viands; while, on the other hand, a very simple dinner is not
the thing to set before a company of epicures.
A LARGE DINNER
Thus far the descriptions of breakfasts, luncheons, and dinners have
been given from the standpoint of the housekeeper. The outline of this,
a more ceremonious meal than any before described, will be from the
point of view of the guest, who regards everything as a mere spectator,
and not with the eyes of the hostess, who has studied every step of the
repast from its inception to its completion.
Two weeks before the dinner the guest receives his invitation, which
may have been sent either by private hand or by post. The latter method
in these days of "magnificent distances" is rapidly growing in favor.
The invitation card, which is about three and a half inches wide by
four and a half long, is engraved in a dashing script as follows:
_Mr. and Mrs. Pelham Blank
request the pleasure of
Mr. —— ——'s company
at dinner on
—— —— ——
at half-past seven o'clock,
—— Gramercy Square._
The name of the guest and the date of the dinner are written in the
blank spaces on the card. To this invitation he sends an immediate
reply.
The guest reaches the house of his entertainers on the appointed
evening at a few minutes before the dinner hour. In the coat-room he
finds a man-servant in attendance, ready to assist in any trifling
matters of the toilet, who hands each gentleman, on a silver tray, a
tiny envelope, enclosing a card bearing the name of the lady he is
to take in to dinner. Descending to the drawing-room, the name of
the guest is announced at the door by a servant, who draws aside the
portière to allow him to enter. His first address is, of course, to
Mr. and Mrs. Blank, who stand near the door receiving. The young man,
Fidus by name, congratulates himself inwardly that he at least is on
time, and, seeing at a glance how few of his fellow _convives_ have
arrived, marvels anew, as he has done often before, that well-bred
people will be so careless of the laws that regulate good society as to
arrive at a house ten, fifteen, and even twenty minutes after the hour
fixed for dinner.
As Fidus has never met the young lady whose name is written on the
card presented to him in the dressing-room, he promptly requests an
introduction of his hostess, and chats with his fate for this evening
until—all of the fourteen invited guests having arrived—a servant draws
back the portières and announces by a bow that dinner is served. Mr.
Blank offers his arm to the guest for whom the dinner is especially
given—a charming Englishwoman—and the rest of the party follow them to
the dining-room. There is no suggestion of precedence, except as the
younger guests naturally give way to the elders of the company. Mrs.
Blank and her attendant cavalier come last.
The dining-room, a fine large apartment, is lighted only by candles;
but there are plenty of these in sconces, in candelabra, in
candle-sticks of odd and pretty designs. Flowers are all about wherever
their use, either singly or massed, can produce a good effect.
The places at table are marked by plain white cards, each with the name
of a guest painted on it in gold. The table decorations are quiet in
effect, but in excellent taste. The cloth, of pure white plain damask,
is covered through the centre with a scarf of elaborate drawn-work.
In place of the towering épergnes once so fashionable, the floral
ornaments, candelabra, etc., are all low. Pink roses, white lilacs, and
maidenhair ferns are the flowers used; and these are not arranged in
set form, but are simply massed in cut-glass bowls, three in number,
placed here and there through the centre of the table. The candelabra
are also of cut glass, which is used wherever it is possible, in
preference to silver. A corsage bouquet of the flowers mentioned above,
tied with a wide pink ribbon, awaits each lady at her place, while a
_boutonnière_ lies beside the name card of each man. The candles are
shaded with alternate pink and white shades, and the silver and china
are of the daintiest and prettiest.
At each place are two large knives and a smaller one—one of these being
supposed to be for fish, although it is decidedly _contre les règles_
to use a knife for fish—a small fork for fish, three large forks, a
spoon for soup, and a small oyster fork. The knives are at the right,
the forks at the left of the plate, and on the left is also the folded
napkin containing the bread. The glasses for water and wine are on the
right. There are generally four of the latter, for claret, sauterne,
champagne, and sherry.
A plate holding raw oysters and a piece of lemon is at each place
when the guests enter. When these have been eaten, soup is served, a
_consommé_; and this is not brought to the table in the tureen, but
is served from the side. Next comes the fish—a piece of salmon, with
lobster sauce, it happens to be on this particular occasion—and it is
followed by the _entrées_. To save time, three of these are served at
once; but Fidus declines one, deeming it unwise to overload his plate
and his stomach at so early a stage in the proceedings.
After the _entrées_ comes the roast, with one vegetable; and the sorbet
or Roman punch succeeds this, and precedes the game. Salad, cheese, and
bread-and-butter compose the next course, and, the table being cleared
for dessert, ices make their appearance. After these are disposed of
come the fruit, bonbons, etc.
Wine has, of course, flowed freely during the repast, but the drinking
has been very moderate, after all, and each guest has felt at liberty
to refuse any of the wines offered. Sherry has been served with the
soup, sauterne with the fish, and claret with the roast, while after
the first course or two champagne has had all seasons for its own. At
some dinners a larger number of wines are served, but this, so far
from being essential, is not considered strictly good form. Nor have
there been favors given, as one would suppose, from perusing books of
etiquette, that this is a common custom at ceremonious dinners. Such a
proceeding, while it might in one way be agreeable to the guests, would
entail a heavy burden of expense upon the hosts, and might, moreover,
place the recipients of these mementos under an obligation which they
would not thoroughly enjoy. If favors are given, they should be pretty
but inexpensive trifles.
The dessert discussed, the ladies leave the gentlemen to their own
devices for a while, and retire to the drawing-room. Coffee might have
been served before they quitted the table, but in this case it is sent
to the ladies in the drawing-room, where they sip it leisurely, while
the men enjoy theirs with their cigars in the _salle à manger_, and
partake of the tiny glasses of cordial that is supposed to serve as
an aid to digestion. When they finally leave the table two hours and
a half have passed since they seated themselves, and they are quite
ready to stand about the drawing-room chatting for a while after their
prolonged _séance_.
As no music or other entertainment beyond the dinner has been arranged
for the guests, they remain only about an hour after the meal is ended,
and then make their acknowledgments and adieux to the host and hostess,
and wend their respective ways homeward.
FAMILY DINNERS FOR SPRING
1.
Lentil Soup.
Fricasseed Chicken.
Rice Croquettes. Buttered Sweet Potatoes.
Peach Brown Betty.
_Lentil Soup._—One pint lentils, two quarts cold water, one onion, one
tablespoonful flour, two teaspoonfuls butter, pepper and celery-salt
to taste. Soak the lentils overnight in cold water; drain them the
next morning, and put them over the fire with the two quarts of water
and the onion; simmer for several hours until the lentils are very
soft. If the water boils away too fast, replenish the amount from the
tea-kettle. When the lentils are done, rub them through the colander
and return them to the fire; cook the butter and flour together in
a small saucepan until the mixture bubbles, and stir into the soup.
Season to taste, and pour on tiny squares of fried bread laid in your
tureen, and serve.
_Buttered Sweet Potatoes._—Boil good-sized sweet potatoes, scrape them,
and slice them lengthwise; butter each piece, lay all in a pan, and set
them in the oven until the butter is well melted into the potatoes.
_Peach Brown Betty._—Stew a pound of evaporated peaches until tender
and plump; place a layer of these in the bottom of a pudding dish,
sprinkle them plentifully with sugar, and strew them quite thickly
with fine bread-crumbs, scattering a little cinnamon over this; then
arrange another layer of peaches, more sugar, crumbs, and spice, and
so continue until the dish is full. Just before adding the last layer,
which should be of crumbs, pour in as much of the liquor in which
the peaches were stewed as the dish will hold without "floating" the
contents. After the top stratum of crumbs is in place, dot it with bits
of butter; bake it covered for half an hour in a moderate oven, uncover
and brown. Eat with hard sauce.
_Hard Sauce._—One tablespoonful butter, one cup powdered sugar,
half-teaspoonful flavoring. Cream the butter and sugar together until
very light, flavor, press into a cup or small mould, turn out, and pass
with the pudding.
2.
Boiled Mutton, Sauce Soubise.
Mashed Turnips. Baked Hominy.
Apple Charlotte.
_Boiled Mutton, Sauce Soubise._—In purchasing your mutton, select a
fine large leg, and have it cut in two, in such a way that the knuckle
and the lower part of the leg will make a good piece for boiling,
leaving the upper part for roasting.
_Sauce Soubise._—Four onions chopped, one tablespoonful flour, one
tablespoonful butter, one cup of the liquor in which the mutton was
boiled; pepper and salt to taste. Stew the onions until very tender;
drain them, and rub them through a colander; put the butter and
flour together in a little saucepan, cook them until they bubble;
add the mutton liquor, which must have been cooled and skimmed; stir
all together until thick and smooth; add the pepper, salt, and the
strained onions; pass with the boiled mutton. If properly made, this is
a very appetizing sauce.
_Baked Hominy._—To two cupfuls of cold boiled hominy add a
tablespoonful of melted butter, a tablespoonful of white sugar, one egg
beaten, a cupful of milk, and a little salt; beat all together until
light, and bake in a buttered pudding dish. Serve as a vegetable.
_Apple Charlotte._—Two eggs, two cups milk, half-cup sugar, two cups
rather stiff apple-sauce. Make a boiled custard of the yolks of the
eggs, the milk, and the sugar; whip the whites of the eggs very light,
and beat them into the apple sauce, which should have been well
sweetened while hot. Heap the sauce and whites in a dish, and pour the
custard over it. Set in the ice-box, or some other cold place for half
an hour before sending to the table.
3.
Mutton and Rice Broth.
Roast Mutton.
Creamed Parsnips. Mashed Potatoes.
Sponge-Cake Trifle.
_Mutton and Rice Broth._—Strain and skim the liquor in which the
mutton was boiled; put it over the fire with two tablespoonfuls of raw
rice, and let it cook about three quarters of an hour, until the rice
is soft; stir into it a cup of boiling milk which has been thickened
with a tablespoonful of flour. After this is added to the broth, let it
boil up once, and then serve.
_Creamed Parsnips._—Boil and peel parsnips; cut them in slices, and,
after spreading each slice with butter, lay in a vegetable dish, and
pour over them a white sauce made of a cup of boiling milk cooked until
thick with two teaspoonfuls of flour and one of butter; pepper and salt
to taste.
_Sponge-Cake Trifle._—Cut a stale sponge-cake into slices, and pour
over each piece enough sherry to moisten it thoroughly. Spread the cake
with raspberry or strawberry jam, and cover all with a pint of whipped
cream, slightly sweetened.
4.
Veal Cutlets. Baked Tomatoes.
Creamed Spaghetti.
Asparagus Salad.
Crackers and Cheese.
Coffee.
Light Cakes.
_Baked Tomatoes._—Select fine large tomatoes, and cut a small piece out
of the stem end of each. In this hole place a small lump of butter,
about half the size of a hickory-nut. Bake the tomatoes slowly for half
an hour; take up, and keep hot while you thicken the juice left in the
pan with a teaspoonful of flour wet up in a very little cold water. Set
the pan on top of the stove, and let its contents boil up once. Season
to taste with pepper and salt, and pour this sauce over the tomatoes.
_Creamed Spaghetti._—One half pound spaghetti boiled tender in two
quarts boiling water, slightly salted; one tablespoonful butter; two
teaspoonfuls flour; one cup milk; four tablespoonfuls grated cheese;
pepper and salt to taste. Cook the butter and flour together; add the
seasoning and the cheese. Drain the spaghetti, put it in a deep dish,
and pour the sauce over it.
_Asparagus Salad._—Boil a bunch of asparagus until tender; drain it,
and put it on the ice. When perfectly cold, pour over it a half-cupful
mayonnaise dressing into which has been stirred a teaspoonful of French
mustard. Canned asparagus may be used when the fresh is out of season.
5.
Cream Corn Soup.
Stewed Pigeons.
Baked Potatoes. Fried Bananas.
Apricot Fritters.
_Cream Corn Soup._—One can corn, three cups boiling water, two cups
milk, one tablespoonful butter, two tablespoonfuls flour, one egg,
pepper and salt to taste. Drain the liquor from the corn, and chop the
latter fine; cook it in the boiling water for an hour; rub it through
the colander, and return it to the fire. Have the milk hot in a farina
kettle. Thicken it with the flour and butter; season, and pour a little
at a time upon the beaten egg. Stir this in with the hot corn _purée_,
and serve at once.
_Stewed Pigeons._—Cut pigeons in half, place a layer of salt pork
cut in thin strips in the bottom of a saucepan, and lay the pigeons
on this; sprinkle with a little chopped onion; pour over them enough
hot water to cover them, put a closely fitting top on the pot, and
cook them slowly for two hours. Take out the birds and the pork, and
keep them hot while you thicken the gravy left in the pot with a
little browned flour wet up in cold water; boil up once, pour over the
pigeons, and serve.
_Fried Bananas._—Select firm bananas, peel them, and slice them
lengthwise; dip them in egg, roll them in very fine cracker-crumbs, and
fry them in deep fat to a light brown. Serve on a napkin laid in a deep
dish.
_Apricot Fritters._—Stew evaporated apricots until tender, adding,
when half done, sugar in the proportion of two tablespoonfuls to every
cupful of juice. When the apricots are tender, take them out, leaving
the syrup to reduce by boiling until it is quite thick. Dip each piece
of apricot into a frying batter made of a cup of flour, a tablespoonful
of melted butter, a small cup of warm water, and the white of an egg
beaten light; drop these fritters into boiling deep fat. When done, lay
on a piece of brown paper in a colander for a few minutes, transfer to
a hot dish, and pour the hot syrup over and around them.
6.
Broiled Shad.
Canned French Pease. New Potatoes.
Lettuce.
Preserved Ginger.
Fancy Cakes.
_Canned French Pease._—Drain the pease, and put them in a frying-pan
with a tablespoonful of melted butter smoking hot; toss the pease about
in this until they are heated through and well coated with the butter;
season with pepper and salt, and serve at once.
_Lettuce._—Dress on the table with a plain French dressing.
FAMILY DINNERS FOR SUMMER