There is a season when the lingerers in town accept with pleasure an
invitation to the neighboring country house, where the lucky
suburban cit likes to entertain his friends. It is to be doubted,
however, whether hospitality is an unmixed pleasure to those who
extend it. With each blessing of prosperity comes an attendant evil,
and a lady who has a country house has always to face the fact that
her servants are apt to decamp in a body on Saturday night, and
leave her to take care of her guests as best she may. The nearer to
town the greater the necessity for running a servant's omnibus,
which shall take the departing offender to the train, and speed the
arrival of her successor.
No lady should attempt to entertain in the country who has not a
good cook and a very competent waiter or waitress. The latter, if
well trained, is in every respect as good as a man, and in some
respects more desirable; women-servants are usually quiet, neater
than men-servants, as a rule, and require less waiting upon. Both
men and women should be required to wear shoes that do not creak,
and to be immaculately neat in their attire. Maid-servants should
always wear caps and white aprons, and men dress-coats, white
cravats, and perfectly fresh linen.
As the dinners of the opulent, who have butler, waiters, French
cook, etc., are quite able to take care of themselves, we prefer to
answer the inquiries of those of our correspondents who live in a
simple manner, with two or three servants, and who wish to entertain
with hospitality and without great expense.
The dining-room of many country houses is small, and not cheerfully
furnished. The houses built recently are improved in this respect,
however, and now we will imagine a large room that has a pretty
outlook on the Hudson, carpeted with fragrant matting, or with a
hard-wood floor, on which lie India rugs. The table should be oval,
as that shape brings guests near to each other. The table-cloth
should be of white damask, and as fresh as sweet clover, for dinner:
colored cloths are permissible only for breakfast and tea. The
chairs should be easy, with high, slanting backs. For summer, cane
chairs are much the most comfortable, although those covered with
leather are very nice. Some people prefer arm-chairs at dinner, but
the arms are inconvenient to many, and, besides, take a great deal
of room. The armless dinner-chairs are the best.
Now, as a dinner in the country generally occurs after the gentlemen
come from town, the matter of light has to be considered. If our
late brilliant sunsets do not supply enough, how shall we light our
summer dinners? Few country houses have gas. Even if they have, it
would be very hot, and attract mosquitoes.
Candles are very pretty, but exceedingly troublesome. The wind blows
the flame to and fro; the insects flutter into the light; an unhappy
moth seats himself on the wick, and burning into an unsightly
cadaver makes a gutter down one side; the little red-paper shades
take fire, and there is a general conflagration. Yet light is
positively necessary to digestion, and no party can be cheerful
without it. Therefore, try carcel or moderator lamps with pretty
transparent shades, or a hanging lamp with ground-glass shade. These
lamps, filled with kerosene--and it must be done neatly, so that it
will not smell--are the best lamps for the country dinner. If
possible, however, have a country dinner by the light of day; it is
much more cheerful.
Now for the ornamentation of the dinner. Let it be of flowers--wild
ones, if possible, grasses, clovers, buttercups, and a few fragrant
roses or garden flowers. There is no end to the cheap decorative
china articles that are sold now for the use of flowers. A
contemporary mentions orchids placed in baskets on the shoulders of
Arcadian peasants; lilies-of-the-valley, with leaves as pale as
their flowers, wheeled in barrows by Cupids or set in china
slippers; crocuses grown in a china pot shaped like a thumbed copy
of Victor Hugo's "Notre Dame de Paris;" or white tulips in a cluster
of three gilt _sabots_, large enough to form a capital flower-stand,
mounted on gilt, rustic branches. Stout pitchers, glass bowls, china
bowls, and even old teapots, make pretty bouquet-holders. The Greek
vase, the classic-shaped, old-fashioned champagne glass, are,
however, unrivalled for the light grasses, field daisies, and fresh
garden flowers.
Pretty, modern English china, the cheap "old blue," the white and
gold, or the French, with a colored border, are all good enough for
a country dinner; for if people have two houses, they do not like to
take their fragile, expensive china to the country. Prettily-shaped
tureens and vegetable dishes add very much to the comfort and
happiness of the diners, and fortunately they are cheap and easily
obtained. Glass should always be thin and fine, and tea and coffee
cups delicate to the lip: avoid the thick crockery of a hotel.
For a country dinner the table should be set near a window, or
windows, if possible; in fine weather, in the hall or on the wide
veranda. If the veranda have long windows, the servant can pass in
and out easily. There should be a side-board and a side, table,
relays of knives, forks and spoons, dishes and glasses not in use,
and a table from which the servant can help the soup and carve the
joint, as on a hot day no one wishes to see these two dishes on the
table. A maid-servant should be taught by her mistress how to carve,
in order to save time and trouble. Soup for a country dinner should
be clear bouillon, with macaroni and cheese, _creme d'asperge_, or
Julienne, which has in it all the vegetables of the season. Heavy
mock-turtle, bean soup, or ox-tail are not in order for a country
dinner. If the lady of the house have a talent for cookery, she
should have her soups made the day before, all the grease removed
when the stock is cold, and season them herself.
It is better in a country house to have some cold dish that will
serve as a resource if the cook should leave. Melton veal, which can
be prepared on Monday and which will last until Saturday, is an
excellent stand-by; and a cold boiled or roast ham should always be
on the side-board. A hungry man can make a comfortable dinner of
cold ham and a baked potato.
Every country householder should try to have a vegetable garden, for
pease, beans, young turnips, and salads fresh gathered are very
superior to those which even the best grocer furnishes. And of all
the luxuries of a country dinner the fresh vegetables are the
greatest. Especially does the tired citizen, fed on the esculents of
the corner grocery, delight in the green pease, the crisp lettuce,
the undefiled strawberries. One old epicure of New York asks of his
country friends only a piece of boiled salt pork with vegetables, a
potato salad, some cheese, five large strawberries, and a cup of
coffee. The large family of salads help to make the country dinner
delightful. Given a clear beef soup, a slice of fresh-boiled salmon,
a bit of spring lamb with mint sauce, some green pease and fresh
potatoes, a salad of lettuce, or sliced tomatoes, or potatoes with a
bit of onion, and you have a dinner fit for a Brillat-Savarin; or
vary it with a pair of boiled chickens, and a _jardiniere_ made of
all the pease, beans, potatoes, cauliflower, fresh beets, of the day
before, simply treated to a bath of vinegar and oil and pepper and
salt. The lady who has conquered the salad question may laugh at the
caprices of cooks, and defy the hour at which the train leaves.
What so good as an egg salad for a hungry company? Boil the eggs
hard and slice them, cover with a _mayonnaise_ dressing, and put a
few lettuce leaves about the plate, and you have a sustaining meal.
Many families have cold meats and warm vegetables for their midday
dinner during the summer. This is not healthy. Let all the dinner be
cold if the meats are; and a dinner of cold roast beef, of salad,
and cold asparagus, dressed with pepper, oil, and vinegar, is not a
bad meal.
It is better for almost everybody, however, to eat a hot dinner,
even in hot weather, as the digestion is aided by the friendly power
of the caloric. Indeed dyspepsia, almost universal with Americans,
is attributed to the habit which prevails in this country above all
others of drinking ice-water.
_Carafes_ of ice-water, a silver dish for ice, and a pair of ice-
tongs, should be put on the table for a summer dinner. For desserts
there is an almost endless succession, and with cream in her dairy,
and a patent ice-cream freezer in her _cuisine_, the house-keeper
need not lack delicate and delicious dishes of berries and fruits.
No hot puddings should be served, or heavy pies; but the fruit tart
is an excellent sweet, and should be made _
ravir_; the pastry
should melt in the mouth, and the fruit be stewed with a great deal
of sugar. Cream should be put on the table in large glass pitchers,
for it is a great luxury of the country and of the summer season.
The cold custards, Charlotte-Russe, and creams stiffened with
gelatine and delicately flavored, are very nice for a summer dinner.
So is home-made cake, when well made: this, indeed, is always its
only "excuse for being."
Stewed fruit is a favorite dessert in England, and the gooseberry,
which here is but little used, is much liked there. Americans prefer
to eat fruit fresh, and therefore have not learned to stew it.
Stewing is, however, a branch of cookery well worth the attention of
a first-class house-keeper. It makes even the canned abominations
better, and the California canned apricot stewed with sugar is one
of the most delightful of sweets, and very wholesome; canned peaches
stewed with sugar lose the taste of tin, which sets the teeth on
edge, and stewed currants are delicious.
Every house-keeper should learn to cook macaroni well. It is worth
while to spend an hour at Martinelli's, for this Italian staple is
economical, and extremely palatable if properly prepared. Rice, too,
should have a place in a summer bill of fare, as an occasional
substitute for potatoes, which some people cannot eat.
For summer dinners there should never be anything on the table when
the guests sit down but the flowers and the dessert, the ice-
pitchers or _carafes_, and bowls of ice, the glass, china, and
silver: the last three should all be simple, and not profuse.
Many families now, fearing burglars, use only plated spoons, knives,
forks, and dishes at their country houses. Modern plate is so very
good that there is less objection to this than formerly; but the
genuine house-keeper loves the real silver spoons and forks, and
prefers to use them.
The ostentatious display of silver, however, is bad taste at a
country dinner. Glass dishes are much more elegant and appropriate,
and quite expensive enough to bear the title of luxuries.
Avoid all greasy and heavy dishes. Good roast beef, mutton, lamb,
veal, chickens, and fresh fish are always in order, for the system
craves the support of these solids in summer as well as in winter;
but do not offer pork, unless in the most delicate form, and then in
small quantities. Fried salt pork, if not too fat, is always a
pleasant addition to the broiled bird.
Broiled fish, broiled chicken, broiled ham, broiled steaks and
chops, are always satisfactory. The grid-iron made St. Lawrence fit
for Heaven, and its qualities have been elevating and refining ever
since. Nothing can be less healthy or less agreeable to the taste at
a summer dinner than fried food. The frying-pan should have been
thrown into the fire long ago, and burned up.
The house-keeper living near the sea has an ample store to choose
from in the toothsome crab, clam, lobster, and other crustacea. The
fresh fish, the roast clams, etc., take the place of the devilled
kidneys and broiled bones of the winter. But every housewife should
study the markets of her neighborhood. In many rural districts the
butchers give away, or throw to the dogs, sweetbreads and other
morsels which are the very essence of luxury. Calf's head is
rejected by the rural buyer, and a Frenchman who had the
_physiologie du got_ at his finger-ends, declared that in a country
place, not five miles from New York, he gave luxurious dinners on
what the butcher threw away.