The Cook's Oracle; and Housekeeper's Manual

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Title: The Cook's Oracle; and Housekeeper's Manual
Author: Kitchiner, William, 1775?-1827
Language: English
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Transcriber’s Note

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. A list of corrections
is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and
hyphenation have been maintained. A list of inconsistently spelled
and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text.

Text surrounded with = was originally printed in a black-letter typeface.

_Harper’s Stereotype Edition._

THE
COOK’S ORACLE;
AND
HOUSEKEEPER’S MANUAL.

CONTAINING

=Receipts for Cookery,=

AND

DIRECTIONS FOR CARVING.

ALSO,

THE ART OF COMPOSING THE MOST SIMPLE AND MOST HIGHLY FINISHED
BROTHS, GRAVIES, SOUPS, SAUCES, STORE SAUCES, AND FLAVOURING
ESSENCES; PASTRY, PRESERVES, PUDDINGS, PICKLES, &c.

WITH

A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF COOKERY
FOR CATHOLIC FAMILIES.

THE QUANTITY OF EACH ARTICLE IS ACCURATELY STATED BY WEIGHT AND
MEASURE; BEING THE RESULT OF ACTUAL EXPERIMENTS
INSTITUTED IN THE KITCHEN OF

WILLIAM KITCHINER, M.D.

ADAPTED TO THE AMERICAN PUBLIC
BY A MEDICAL GENTLEMAN.

FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITION.

=New-York:=

_PRINTED BY J. & J. HARPER, 82 CLIFF-ST._

SOLD BY COLLINS AND HANNAY, COLLINS AND CO., G. AND C. AND H. CARVILL,
WILLIAM B. GILLEY, E. BLISS, O. A. ROORBACH, WHITE, GALLAHER, AND WHITE,
C. S. FRANCIS, WILLIAM BURGESS, JR., AND N. B. HOLMES;--PHILADELPHIA,
E. L. CAREY AND A. HART, AND JOHN GRIGG;--ALBANY, O. STEELE, AND W. C.
LITTLE.

1830.

SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, _ss._

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 20th day of November, A. D. 1829, in the
fifty-fourth year of the independence of the United States of America,
J. & J. HARPER, of the said district, have deposited in this office the
title of a book, the right whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the
words following, to wit:

“The Cook’s Oracle, and Housekeeper’s Manual, Containing Receipts for
Cookery, and Directions for Carving; also the Art of Composing the most
simple and most highly finished Broths, Gravies, Soups, Sauces, Store
Sauces, and Flavouring Essences; Pastry, Preserves, Puddings, Pickles,
&c. With a Complete System of Cookery for Catholic Families. The
Quantity of each Article is accurately stated by Weight and Measure;
being the Result of Actual Experiments instituted in the Kitchen of
William Kitchiner, M.D. Adapted to the American Public by a Medical
Gentleman.”

In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled “An
Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of maps,
charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during
the time therein mentioned.” And also to an Act, entitled “An Act,
supplementary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encouragement of
Learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the
authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein
mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing,
engraving, and etching historical and other prints.”

FREDERICK I. BETTS,
_Clerk of the Southern District of New-York._

ADVERTISEMENT.

The publishers have now the pleasure of presenting to the American
public, Dr. Kitchiner’s justly celebrated work, entitled “The Cook’s
Oracle, and Housekeeper’s Manual,” with numerous and valuable
improvements, by a medical gentleman of this city.

The work contains a store of valuable information, which, it is
confidently believed, will not only prove highly advantageous to young
and inexperienced housekeepers, but also to more experienced matrons--to
all, indeed, who are desirous of enjoying, in the highest degree, the
good things which Nature has so abundantly bestowed upon us.

The “Cook’s Oracle” has been adjudged, by connoisseurs in this country
and in Great Britain, to contain the best possible instructions on the
subject of serving up, beautifully and economically, the productions of
the water, land, and air, in such a manner as to render them most
pleasant to the eye, and agreeable to the palate.

Numerous notices, in commendation of the work, might be selected from
respectable European journals; but the mere fact, that within twelve
years, seventy thousand copies of it have been purchased by the English
public, is sufficient evidence of its reception and merits.

NEW-YORK, _December, 1829_.

PREFACE

THE SEVENTH EDITION.

The whole of this Work has, a _seventh time_, been carefully revised;
but this last time I have found little to add, and little to alter.

I have bestowed as much attention on each of the 500 receipts as if the
whole merit of the book was to be estimated entirely by the accuracy of
my detail of one particular process.

The increasing demand for “_The Cook’s Oracle_,” amounting in 1824 to
the extraordinary number of upwards of 45,000, has been stimulus enough
to excite any man to submit to the most unremitting study; and the
Editor has felt it as an imperative duty to exert himself to the utmost
to render “_The Cook’s Oracle_” a faithful narrative of all that is
known of the various subjects it professes to treat.

PREFACE.

Among the multitudes of causes which concur to impair health and produce
disease, the most general is the improper quality of our food: this most
frequently arises from the injudicious manner in which it is prepared:
yet strange, “passing strange,” this is the only one for which a remedy
has not been sought; few persons bestow half so much attention on the
preservation of their own health, as they daily devote to that of their
dogs and horses.

The observations of the Guardians of Health respecting regimen, &c. have
formed no more than a catalogue of those articles of food, which they
have considered most proper for particular constitutions.

Some medical writers have, “in good set terms,” warned us against the
pernicious effects of improper diet; but not one has been so kind as to
take the trouble to direct us how to prepare food properly; excepting
only the contributions of Count Rumford, who says, in pages 16 and 70 of
his tenth Essay, “however low and vulgar this subject has hitherto
generally been thought to be--_in what Art or Science could improvements
be made that would more powerfully contribute to increase the comforts
and enjoyments of mankind? Would to God! that I could fix the public
attention to this subject!_”

The Editor has endeavoured to write the following receipts so plainly,
that they may be as easily understood in the kitchen as he trusts they
will be relished in the dining-room; and has been more ambitious to
present to the Public a Work which will contribute to the daily comfort
of all, than to seem elaborately scientific.

The practical part of the philosophy of the kitchen is certainly not the
most agreeable; gastrology has to contend with its full share of those
great impediments to all great improvements in scientific pursuits; the
prejudices of the ignorant, and the misrepresentations of the envious.

The sagacity to comprehend and estimate the importance of any
uncontemplated improvement, is confined to the very few on whom nature
has bestowed a sufficient degree of perfection of the sense which is to
measure it;--the candour to make a fair report of it, is still more
uncommon; and the kindness to encourage it cannot often be expected from
those whose most vital interest it is to prevent the developement of
that by which their own importance, perhaps their only means of
existence, may be for ever eclipsed: so, as Pope says, how many are

“Condemn’d in business or in arts to drudge,
Without a rival, or without a judge:
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.”

Improvements in _Agriculture_ and the _Breed of Cattle_ have been
encouraged by premiums. Those who have obtained them, have been hailed
as benefactors to society! but _the Art of_ making use of these means of
_ameliorating Life and supporting a healthful Existence_--COOKERY--has
been neglected!!

While the cultivators of the raw materials are distinguished and
rewarded, the attempt to improve the processes, without which neither
vegetable nor animal substances are fit for the food of man (astonishing
to say), has been ridiculed, as unworthy the attention of a rational
being!!

The most useful[vii-*] art--which the Editor has chosen to endeavour to
illustrate, because nobody else has, and because he knew not how he
could employ some leisure hours more beneficially for mankind, than to
teach them to combine the “_utile_” with the “_dulce_,” and to increase
their pleasures, without impairing their health, or impoverishing their
fortune, has been for many years his favourite employment; and “THE ART
OF INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING LIFE BY FOOD, &C. &C.” and this Work,
have insensibly become repositories for whatever observations he has
made which he thought would make us “LIVE HAPPY, AND LIVE LONG!!!”

The Editor has considered the ART OF COOKERY, not merely as a mechanical
operation, fit only for working cooks, but as the _Analeptic part of the
Art of Physic_.

“How best the fickle fabric to support
Of mortal man; in healthful body how
A healthful mind the longest to maintain,”

(ARMSTRONG,)

is an occupation neither unbecoming nor unworthy philosophers of the
highest class: such only can comprehend its importance; which amounts to
no less, than not only the enjoyment of the present moment, but the more
precious advantage of improving and preserving _health_, and prolonging
_life_, which depend on duly replenishing the daily waste of the human
frame with materials pregnant with nutriment and easy of digestion.

If _medicine_ be ranked among those arts which dignify their professors,
_cookery_ may lay claim to an equal, if not a superior, distinction; to
_prevent_ diseases is surely a more advantageous art to mankind than to
_cure_ them. “Physicians should be good cooks, at least in theory.”--Dr.
MANDEVILLE _on Hypochondriasis_, p. 316.

The learned Dr. ARBUTHNOT observes, in page 3 of the preface to his
_Essay on Aliment_, that “the choice and measure of the materials of
which our body is composed, what we take daily by _pounds_, is at least
of as much importance as what we take seldom, and only by _grains_ and
spoonfuls.”

Those in whom the organ of taste is obtuse, or who have been brought up
in the happy habit of being content with humble fare, whose health is so
firm, that it needs no artificial adjustment; who, with the appetite of
a cormorant, have the digestion of an ostrich, and eagerly devour
whatever is set before them without asking any questions about what it
is, or how it has been prepared--may perhaps imagine that the Editor has
sometimes been rather over-much refining the business of the kitchen.

“Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.”

But as few are so fortunate as to be trained up to understand how well
it is worth their while to cultivate such habits of Spartan forbearance,
we cannot perform our duty in registering wholesome precepts, in a
higher degree, than by disarming luxury of its sting, and making the
refinements of Modern Cookery minister not merely to sensual
gratification, but at the same time support the substantial excitement
of “mens sana in corpore sano.”

_Delicate and nervous invalids_, who have unfortunately a sensitive
palate, and have been accustomed to a luxurious variety of savoury
sauces, and highly seasoned viands; those who, from the infirmity of
age, are become incapable of correcting habits created by absurd
indulgence in youth, are entitled to some consideration; and, for their
sake, the _Elements of Opsology_ are explained in the most intelligent
manner; and I have assisted the memory of young cooks, by annexing to
each dish the various sauces which usually accompany it, referring to
their numbers in the work.

Some idle idiots have remarked to the Author, that “there were really so
many _references_ from one receipt to another, that it is exceedingly
troublesome indeed; they are directed sometimes to turn to half a dozen
numbers:” this is quite true. If the Author had not adopted this plan of
_reference_, his book, to be equally explicit, must have been ten times
as big; his object has been to give as much information as possible in
as few pages, and for as few pence, as possible.

By reducing culinary operations to something like a certainty,
_invalids_ will no longer be entirely indebted to chance, whether they
shall recover and live long, and comfortably, or speedily die of
starvation in the midst of plenty.

These rules and orders for the regulation of the business of the kitchen
have been extremely beneficial to the Editor’s own health and comfort.
He hopes they will be equally so to others: they will help those who
enjoy health to preserve it; teach those who have delicate and irritable
stomachs how to keep them in good temper; and, with a little
discretion, enable them to indulge occasionally, not only with impunity,
but with advantage, in all those alimentary pleasures which a rational
epicure can desire.

There is no question more frequently asked, or which a medical man finds
more difficulty in answering, to the satisfaction of himself and his
patient, than--_What do you wish me to eat?_

The most judicious choice of aliment will avail nothing, unless the
culinary preparation of it be equally judicious. How often is the skill
of a pains-taking physician counteracted by want of corresponding
attention to the preparation of food; and the poor patient, instead of
deriving nourishment, is distressed by indigestion!

PARMENTIER, in his _Code Pharmaceutique_, has given a chapter on the
preparation of food: some of the following receipts are offered as an
humble attempt to form a sort of _Appendix to the Pharmacopœia_, and
like pharmaceutic prescriptions, they are precisely adjusted by _weight_
and _measure_. The author of a cookery book, first published in 1824,
has claimed this act of industry of mine as his own original invention;
the only notice I shall take of his pretensions is to say, that the
first edition of “_The Cook’s Oracle_” appeared in 1817.

By ordering such receipts of the _Cook’s Oracle_ as appear adapted to
the case, the recovery of the patient and the credit of the physician,
as far as relates to the administration of aliment, need no longer
depend on the discretion of the cook. For instance: _Mutton Broth_, No.
490, or No. 564; _Toast and Water_, No. 463; _Water Gruel_, No. 572;
_Beef Tea_, No. 563; and _Portable Soup_, No. 252. This concentrated
_Essence of Meat_ will be found a great acquisition to the comfort of
the army, the navy, the traveller, and the invalid. By dissolving half
an ounce of it in half a pint of hot water, you have in a few minutes
_half a pint of good Broth for three halfpence_. The utility of such
accurate and precise directions for preparing food, is to _travellers_
incalculable; for, by translating the receipt, any person may prepare
what is desired as perfectly as a good English cook.

He has also circumstantially detailed the easiest, least expensive, and
most salubrious methods of preparing those highly finished soups,
sauces, ragoûts, and _piquante_ relishes, which the most ingenious
“officers of the mouth” have invented for the amusement of thorough-bred
“_grands gourmands_.”

It has been his aim to render food acceptable to the palate, without
being expensive to the purse, or offensive to the stomach; nourishing
without being inflammatory, and savoury without being surfeiting;
constantly endeavouring to hold the balance equal, between the agreeable
and the wholesome, the epicure and the economist.

_He has not presumed to recommend one receipt that has not been
previously and repeatedly proved in his own kitchen_, which has not been
approved by the most accomplished cooks; and has, moreover, been eaten
with unanimous applause by _a Committee of Taste_, composed of some of
the most illustrious gastropholists of this luxurious metropolis.

The Editor has been materially assisted by Mr. Henry Osborne, the
excellent cook to the late Sir Joseph Banks; that worthy President of
the Royal Society was so sensible of the importance of the subject the
Editor was investigating, that he sent his cook to assist him in his
arduous task; and many of the receipts in this edition are much improved
by his suggestions and corrections. See No. 560.

_This is the only English Cookery Book_ which has been written from the
real experiments of a _housekeeper_ for the benefit of _housekeepers_;
which the reader will soon perceive by the minute attention that has
been employed to elucidate and improve the _Art of Plain Cookery_;
detailing many particulars and precautions, which may at first appear
frivolous, but which experience will prove to be essential: to teach a
common cook how to provide, and to prepare, common food so frugally, and
so perfectly, that _the plain every-day family fare of the most
economical housekeeper_, may, with scarcely additional expense, or any
additional trouble, be _a satisfactory entertainment for an epicure or
an invalid_.

By an attentive consideration of “_the Rudiments of Cookery_,” and the
respective receipts, the most _ignorant novice_ in the business of the
kitchen, may work with the utmost facility and certainty of success, and
soon become _a good cook_.

Will all the other books of cookery that ever were printed do this? To
give his readers an idea of the immense labour attendant upon this Work,
it may be only necessary for the Author to state, that he has patiently
pioneered through more than _two hundred cookery books_ before he set
about recording these results of his own experiments! The table of _the
most economical family_ may, by the help of this book, be entertained
with as much elegance as that of _a sovereign prince_.

LONDON, 1829.

FOOTNOTES:

[vii-*] “The only test of the utility of knowledge, is its promoting the
happiness of mankind.”--_Dr. Stark on Diet_, p. 90.

CONTENTS.

Page

PREFACE v
---- to Seventh Edition iv
INTRODUCTION 15
Culinary Curiosities 32
Invitations to Dinner 36
Carving 43
Friendly Advice to Cooks 45
Table of Weights, &c. 65

RUDIMENTS OF COOKERY.

CHAPTER 1. Boiling 66
---- Baking 72
---- 2. Roasting 74
---- 3. Frying 80
---- 4. Broiling 82
---- 5. Vegetables 83
---- 6. Fish 86
Fish Sauces 88
---- 7. Broths and Soups 89
---- 8. Gravies and Sauces 100
---- 9. Made Dishes 106
Receipts 108
Marketing Tables 355

APPENDIX.

Pastry, Confectionery, Preserves, &c. 360
Bread, &c. 390
Observations on Puddings and Pies 392
Pickles 398
Various useful Family Receipts 405
Observations on Carving 409
Index 421

INTRODUCTION.

The following receipts are not a mere marrowless collection of shreds
and patches, and cuttings and pastings, but a bonâ fide register of
practical facts,--accumulated by a perseverance not to be subdued or
evaporated by the igniferous terrors of a roasting fire in the
dog-days,--in defiance of the odoriferous and calefacient repellents of
roasting, boiling, frying, and broiling;--moreover, the author has
submitted to a labour no preceding cookery-book-maker, perhaps, ever
attempted to encounter,--having _eaten_ each receipt before he set it
down in his book.

They have all been heartily welcomed by a sufficiently well-educated
palate, and a rather fastidious stomach:--perhaps this certificate of
the reception of the respective preparations, will partly apologize for
the book containing a smaller number of them than preceding writers on
this gratifying subject have transcribed--for the amusement of “every
man’s master,” the STOMACH.[15-*]

Numerous as are the receipts in former books, they vary little from each
other, except in the name given to them; the processes of cookery are
very few: I have endeavoured to describe each, in so plain and
circumstantial a manner, as I hope will be easily understood, even by
the amateur, who is unacquainted with the practical part of culinary
concerns.

OLD HOUSEKEEPERS may think I have been tediously minute on many points
which may appear trifling: my predecessors seem to have considered the
RUDIMENTS of COOKERY quite unworthy of attention. These little delicate
distinctions constitute all the difference between a common and an
elegant table, and are not trifles to the YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS who must
learn them either from the communication of others or blunder on till
their own slowly accumulating and dear-bought experience teaches them.

A wish to save time, trouble and money to inexperienced housekeepers and
cooks, and to bring the enjoyments and indulgences of the opulent within
reach of the middle ranks of society, were my motives for publishing
this book. I could accomplish it only by supposing the reader (when he
first opens it) to be as ignorant of cookery as I was, when I first
thought of writing on the subject.

I have done my best to contribute to the comfort of my fellow-creatures:
by a careful attention to the directions herein given, the most ignorant
may easily learn to prepare food, not only in an agreeable and
wholesome, but in an elegant and economical manner.

This task seems to have been left for me; and I have endeavoured to
collect and communicate, in the clearest and most intelligible manner,
the whole of the heretofore abstruse mysteries of the culinary art,
which are herein, I hope, so plainly developed, that the most
inexperienced student in the occult art of cookery, may work from my
receipts with the utmost facility.

I was perfectly aware of the extreme difficulty of teaching those who
are entirely unacquainted with the subject, and of explaining my ideas
effectually, by mere receipts, to those who never shook hands with a
stewpan.

In my anxiety to be readily understood, I have been under the necessity
of occasionally repeating the same directions in different parts of the
book; but I would rather be censured for repetition than for obscurity,
and hope not to be accused of affectation, while my intention is
perspicuity.

Our neighbours of France are so justly famous for their skill in the
affairs of the kitchen, that the adage says, “As many Frenchmen as many
cooks:” surrounded as they are by a profusion of the most delicious
wines, and seducing _liqueurs_ offering every temptation to render
drunkenness delightful, yet a tippling Frenchman is a “_rara avis_.”

They know how so easily to keep life in sufficient repair by good
eating, that they require little or no screwing up with liquid stimuli.
This accounts for that “_toujours gai_,” and happy equilibrium of the
animal spirits which they enjoy with more regularity than any people:
their elastic stomachs, unimpaired by spirituous liquors, digest
vigorously the food they sagaciously prepare and render easily
assimilable, by cooking it sufficiently,--wisely contriving to get half
the work of the stomach done by fire and water, till

“The tender morsels on the palate melt,
And all the force of cookery is felt.”

See Nos. 5 and 238, &c.

The cardinal virtues of cookery, “CLEANLINESS, FRUGALITY, NOURISHMENT,
AND PALATABLENESS,” preside over each preparation; for I have not
presumed to insert a single composition, without previously obtaining
the “_imprimatur_” of an enlightened and indefatigable “COMMITTEE OF
TASTE,” (composed of thorough-bred GRANDS GOURMANDS of the first
magnitude,) whose cordial co-operation I cannot too highly praise; and
here do I most gratefully record the unremitting zeal they manifested
during their arduous progress of proving the respective recipes: they
were so truly philosophically and disinterestedly regardless of the wear
and tear of teeth and stomach, that their labour appeared a pleasure to
them. Their laudable perseverance has enabled me to give the
inexperienced amateur an unerring guide how to excite as much pleasure
as possible on the palate, and occasion as little trouble as possible to
the principal viscera, and has hardly been exceeded by those determined
spirits who lately in the Polar expedition braved the other extreme of
temperature, &c. in spite of whales, bears, icebergs, and starvation.

Every attention has been paid in directing the proportions of the
following compositions; not merely to make them inviting to the
appetite, but agreeable and useful to the stomach--nourishing without
being inflammatory, and savoury without being surfeiting.

I have written for those who make nourishment the chief end of
eating,[17-*] and do not desire to provoke appetite beyond the powers
and necessities of nature; proceeding, however, on the purest epicurean
principles of indulging the palate as far as it can be done without
injury or offence to the stomach, and forbidding[18-*] nothing but what
is absolutely unfriendly to health.

----“That which is not good, is not delicious
To a well-govern’d and wise appetite.”--MILTON.

This is by no means so difficult a task as some gloomy philosophers
(uninitiated in culinary science) have tried to make the world believe;
who seem to have delighted in persuading you, that every thing that is
nice must be noxious, and that every thing that is nasty is wholesome.

“How charming is divine philosophy?
Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo’s lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar’d sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns.”--MILTON.

Worthy William Shakspeare declared he never found a philosopher who
could endure the toothache patiently:--the Editor protests that he has
not yet overtaken one who did not love a feast.

Those _cynical_ slaves who are so silly as to suppose it unbecoming a
wise man to indulge in the common comforts of life, should be answered
in the words of the French philosopher. “Hey--what, do you philosophers
eat dainties?” said a gay Marquess. “Do you think,” replied DESCARTES,
“that God made good things only for fools?”

Every individual, who is not perfectly imbecile and void of
understanding, is an _epicure_ in his own way. The epicures in boiling
of potatoes are innumerable. The perfection of all enjoyment depends on
the perfection of the faculties of the mind and body; therefore, the
temperate man is the greatest epicure, and the only true voluptuary.

THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE have been highly appreciated and carefully
cultivated in all countries and in all ages;[19-*] and in spite of all
the stoics, every one will allow they are the first and the last we
enjoy, and those we taste the oftenest,--above a thousand times in a
year, every year of our lives!

THE STOMACH is the mainspring of our system. If it be not sufficiently
wound up to warm the heart and support the circulation, the whole
business of life will, in proportion, be ineffectively performed: we can
neither _think_ with precision, _walk_ with vigour, _sit down_ with
comfort, nor _sleep_ with tranquillity.

There would be no difficulty in proving that it influences (much more
than people in general imagine) all our actions: the destiny of nations
has often depended upon the more or less laborious digestion of a prime
minister.[19-+] See a very curious anecdote in the memoirs of COUNT
ZINZENDORFF in Dodsley’s Annual Register for 1762. 3d edition, p. 32.

The philosopher Pythagoras seems to have been extremely nice in eating;
among his absolute injunctions to his disciples, he commands them to
“abstain from beans.”

This ancient sage has been imitated by the learned who have discoursed
on this subject since, who are liberal of their negative, and niggardly
of their positive precepts--in the ratio, that it is easier to tell you
not to do this, than to teach you how to do that.

Our great English moralist Dr. S. JOHNSON, his biographer Boswell tells
us, “was a man of very nice discernment in the science of cookery,” and
talked of good eating with uncommon satisfaction. “Some people,” said
he, “have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what
they eat; for my part, I mind my belly very studiously and very
carefully, and I look upon it that he who does not mind his belly, will
hardly mind any thing else.”

The Dr. might have said, _cannot_ mind any thing else. The energy of our
BRAINS is sadly dependent on the behaviour of our BOWELS.[20-*] Those
who say, ’Tis no matter what we eat or what we drink, may as well say,
’Tis no matter whether we eat, or whether we drink.

The following anecdotes I copy from Boswell’s life of Johnson.

_Johnson._--“I could write a better book of cookery than has ever yet
been written; it should be a book on philosophical principles. I would
tell what is the best butcher’s meat, the proper seasons of different
vegetables, and then, how to roast, and boil, and to compound.”

_Dilly._--“_Mrs. Glasse’s cookery_, which is the best, was written by
Dr. Hill.”

_Johnson._--“Well, Sir--this shows how much better the subject of
cookery[20-+] may be treated by a philosopher;[20-++] but you shall see
what a book of cookery I shall make, and shall agree with Mr. Dilly for
the copyright.”

_Miss Seward._--“That would be Hercules with the distaff indeed!”

_Johnson._--“No, madam; women can spin very well, but they cannot make a
good book of cookery.” See vol. iii. p. 311.

Mr. B. adds, “I never knew a man who relished good eating more than he
did: when at table, he was totally absorbed in the business of the
moment: nor would he, unless in very high company, say one word, or even
pay the least attention to what was said by others, until he had
satisfied his appetite.”

The peculiarities of his constitution were as great as those of his
character: luxury and intemperance are relative terms, depending on
other circumstances than mere quantity and quality. Nature gave him an
excellent palate, and a craving appetite, and his intense application
rendered large supplies of nourishment absolutely necessary to recruit
his exhausted spirits.

The fact is, this great man had found out that animal and intellectual
vigour,[21-*] are much more entirely dependent upon each other than is
commonly understood; especially in those constitutions whose digestive
and chylopoietic organs are capricious and easily put out of tune, or
absorb the “_pabulum vitæ_” indolently and imperfectly: with such, it is
only now and then that the “_sensorium commune_” vibrates with the full
tone of accurately considerative, or creative energy. “His favourite
dainties were, a leg of pork boiled till it dropped from the bone, a
veal-pie, with plums and sugar, or the outside cut of a salt buttock of
beef. With regard to _drink_, his liking was for the strongest, as it
was not the _flavour_, but the _effect_ that he desired.” Mr. Smale’s
Account of Dr. Johnson’s Journey into Wales, 1816, p. 174.

Thus does the HEALTH always, and very often the LIFE of invalids, and
those who have weak and infirm STOMACHS, depend upon the care and skill
of the COOK. Our forefathers were so sensible of this, that in days of
yore no man of consequence thought of making a day’s journey without
taking his “MAGISTER COQUORUM” with him.

The rarity of this talent in a high degree is so well understood, that
besides very considerable pecuniary compensation, his majesty’s first
and second cooks[22-*] are now esquires by their office. We have every
reason to suppose they were persons of equal dignity heretofore.

In Dr. Pegge’s “Forme of Cury,” 8vo. London, 1780, we read, that when
Cardinal Otto, the Pope’s legate, was at Oxford, A. D. 1248, his brother
officiated as “MAGISTER COQUINÆ.”

This important post has always been held as a situation of high trust
and confidence; and the “MAGNUS COQUUS,” Anglicè, the _Master
Kitchener_, has, time immemorial, been an officer of considerable
dignity in the palaces of princes.

The cook in PLAUTUS (_pseudol_) is called “_Hominum servatorem_,” the
preserver of mankind; and by MERCIER “_un médecin qui guérit
radicalement deux maladies mortelles, la faim et la soif_.”

The Norman conqueror WILLIAM bestowed several portions of land on these
highly-favoured domestics, the “COQUORUM PRÆPOSITUS,” and “COQUUS
REGIUS;” a manor was bestowed on Robert Argyllon the “GRAND QUEUX,” to
be held by the following service. See that venerable record, the
doomsday book.

“Robert Argyllon holdeth one carucate of land in Addington in the county
of Surrey, by the service of making one mess in an earthen pot in the
kitchen of our Lord the KING, on the day of his coronation, called _De
la Groute_,” i. e. a kind of plum-porridge, or water-gruel with plums in
it. This dish is still served up at the royal table at coronations, by
the Lord of the said manor of Addington.

At the coronation of King George IV., Court of Claims, July 12, 1820:

“The petition of the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, which was presented by
Sir G. Nayler, claiming to perform the service of presenting a dish of
_De la Groute_ to the King at the banquet, was considered by the Court,
and decided to be allowed.”

A good dinner is one of the greatest enjoyments of human life; and
as the practice of cookery is attended with so many discouraging
difficulties,[22-+] so many disgusting and disagreeable circumstances,
and even dangers, we ought to have some regard for those who encounter
them to procure us pleasure, and to reward their attention by rendering
their situation every way as comfortable and agreeable as we can. He who
preaches _integrity_ to those in the kitchen, (see “_Advice to Cooks_,”)
may be permitted to recommend _liberality_ to those in the parlour; they
are indeed the sources of each other. Depend upon it, “True self-love
and social are the same;” “Do as you would be done by:” give those you
are obliged to trust every inducement to be honest, and no temptation to
play tricks.

When you consider that a good servant eats[23-*] no more than a bad one,
how much waste is occasioned by provisions being dressed in a slovenly
and unskilful manner, and how much a good cook (to whom the conduct of
the kitchen is confided) can save you by careful management, no
housekeeper will hardly deem it an unwise speculation (it is certainly
an amiable experiment), to invite the _honesty_ and _industry_ of
domestics, by setting them an example of _liberality_--at least, show
them, that “According to their pains will be their gains.”

Avoid all approaches towards _familiarity_; which, to a proverb, is
accompanied by _contempt_, and soon breaks the neck of obedience.

A lady gave us the following account of the progress of a favourite.

“The first year, she was an excellent servant; the second, a kind
mistress; the third, an intolerable tyrant; at whose dismissal, every
creature about my house rejoiced heartily.”

However, servants are more likely to be praised into good conduct, than
scolded out of bad. Always commend them when they do right. To cherish
the desire of pleasing in them, you must show them that you are
pleased:--

“Be to their faults a little blind,
And to their virtues very kind.”

By such conduct, ordinary servants may be converted into good ones: few
are so hardened, as not to feel gratified when they are kindly and
liberally treated.

It is a good maxim to select servants not younger than THIRTY:--_before_
that age, however comfortable you may endeavour to make them, their want
of experience, and the _hope_ of something still _better_, prevents
their being satisfied with their present state; _after_, they have had
the benefit of experience: if they are tolerably comfortable, they will
endeavour to deserve the smiles of even a moderately kind master, for
_fear_ they may change for the _worse_.

Life may indeed be very fairly divided into the seasons of HOPE and
FEAR. In YOUTH, _we hope every thing may be right_: in AGE, _we fear
every thing will be wrong_.

Do not discharge a good servant for a slight offence:--

“Bear and forbear, thus preached the stoic sages,
And in two words, include the sense of pages.”--POPE.

HUMAN NATURE IS THE SAME IN ALL STATIONS: if you can convince your
servants that you have a generous and considerate regard for their
health and comfort, why should you imagine that they will be insensible
to the good they receive?

Impose no commands but what are reasonable, nor reprove but with justice
and temper: the best way to ensure which is, never to lecture them till
at least one day after they have offended you.

If they have any particular hardship to endure in your service, let them
see that you are concerned for the necessity of imposing it.

_If they are sick_, remember you are their patron as well as their
master: remit their labour, and give them all the assistance of food,
physic, and every comfort in your power. Tender assiduity about an
invalid is half a cure; it is a balsam to the mind, which has a most
powerful effect on the body, soothes the sharpest pains, and strengthens
beyond the richest cordial.

Ye who think that to protect and encourage virtue is the best preventive
from vice, reward your female servants liberally.

CHARITY SHOULD BEGIN AT HOME. Prevention is preferable to cure--but I
have no objection to see your names ornamenting the lists of subscribers
to foundling hospitals and female penitentiaries.[25-*] Gentle reader,
for a definition of the word “_charity_,” let me refer you to the 13th
Chapter of St. Paul’s First Epistle to the Corinthians.

“To say nothing of the deleterious vapours and pestilential exhalations
of the charcoal, which soon undermine the health of the heartiest, the
glare of a scorching fire, and the smoke so baneful to the eyes and the
complexion, are continual and inevitable dangers: and a cook must live
in the midst of them, as a soldier on the field of battle surrounded by
bullets, and bombs, and CONGREVE’S rockets; with this only difference,
that for the first, every day is a fighting day, that her warfare is
almost always without glory, and most praiseworthy achievements pass not
only without reward, but frequently without thanks: for the most
consummate cook is, alas! seldom noticed by the master, or heard of by
the guests; who, while they are eagerly devouring his turtle, and
drinking his wine, care very little who dressed the one, or sent the
other.”--_Almanach des Gourmands._

This observation applies especially to the SECOND COOK, or first kitchen
maid, in large families, who have by far the hardest place in the house,
and are worse paid, and truly verify the old adage, “the more work, the
less wages.” If there is any thing right, the cook has the praise--when
there is any thing wrong, as surely the _kitchen maid_ has the blame. Be
it known, then, to honest JOHN BULL, that this humble domestic is
expected by the cook to take the entire management of all ROASTS, BOILS,
FISH, and VEGETABLES; i. e. the principal part of an Englishman’s
dinner.

The master, who wishes to enjoy the rare luxury of a table regularly
well served in the best style, must treat his cook as his friend--watch
over her health[26-*] with the tenderest care, and especially be sure
her taste does not suffer from her stomach being deranged by bilious
attacks.

Besides understanding the management of the spit, the stewpan, and the
rolling-pin, a COMPLETE COOK must know how to go to market, write
legibly, and keep accounts accurately.

In well-regulated private families the most convenient custom seems to
be, that the cook keep a house-book, containing an account of the
miscellaneous articles she purchases; and the butcher’s, baker’s,
butterman’s, green-grocer’s, fishmonger’s, milkman’s, and washing bills
are brought in every Monday; these it is the duty of the cook to
examine, before she presents them to her employer every Tuesday morning
to be discharged.

The advantage of paying such bills weekly is incalculable: among others
the constant check it affords against any excess beyond the sum allotted
for defraying them, and the opportunity it gives of correcting increase
of expense in one week by a prudent retrenchment in the next. “If you
would live _even_ with the world, calculate your expenses at _half_ your
income--if you would grow _rich_, at _one-third_.”

It is an excellent plan to have a table of rules for regulating the
ordinary expenses of the family, in order to check any innovation or
excess which otherwise might be introduced unawares, and derange the
proposed distribution of the annual revenue.

To understand the economy of household affairs is not only essential to
a woman’s proper and pleasant performance of the duties of a wife and a
mother, but is indispensable to the comfort, respectability, and general
welfare of all families, whatever be their circumstances.

The editor has employed some leisure hours in collecting practical hints
for instructing inexperienced housekeepers in the useful

_Art of providing comfortably for a family;_

which is displayed so plainly and so particularly, that a young lady
may learn the delectable arcana of domestic affairs, in as little time
as is usually devoted to directing the position of her hands on a
_piano-forte_, or of her feet in a _quadrille_--this will enable her to
make the cage of matrimony as comfortable as the net of courtship was
charming. For this purpose he has contrived a Housekeeper’s Leger, a
plain and easy plan of keeping accurate accounts of the expenses of
housekeeping, which, with only one hour’s attention in a week, will
enable you to balance all such accounts with the utmost exactness; an
acceptable acquisition to all who admit that order and economy are the
basis of comfort and independence.

It is almost impossible for a cook in a large family, to attend to the
business of the kitchen with any certainty of perfection, if employed in
other household concerns. It is a service of such importance, and so
difficult to perform even tolerably well, that it is sufficient to
engross the entire attention of one person.

“If we take a review of the qualifications which are indispensable in
that highly estimable domestic, a GOOD COOK, we shall find that very few
deserve that name.”[27-*]

“The majority of those who set up for professors of this art are of mean
ability, selfish, and pilfering every thing they can; others are
indolent and insolent. Those who really understand their business (which
are by far the smallest number), are too often either ridiculously
saucy, or insatiably thirsty; in a word, a good subject of this class is
a _rara avis_ indeed!”

“God sends meat,”--who sends cooks?[28-*] the proverb has long saved us
the trouble of guessing. Vide _Almanach des Gourmands_, p. 83.

Of what value then is not this book, which will render every person of
common sense a good cook in as little time as it can be read through
attentively!

If the masters and mistresses of families will sometimes condescend to
make an amusement of this art, they will escape numberless
disappointments, &c. which those who will not, must occasionally
inevitably suffer, to the detriment of both their health and their
fortune.

I did not presume to offer any observations of my own, till I had read
all that I could find written on the subject, and submitted (with no
small pains) to a patient and attentive consideration of every preceding
work, relating to culinary concerns, that I could meet with.

These books vary very little from each other; except in the preface,
they are

“Like in all else as one egg to another.”

“_Ab uno, disce omnes_,” cutting and pasting have been much oftener
employed than the pen and ink: any one who has occasion to refer to two
or three of them, will find the receipts almost always “_verbatim et
literatim_;” equally unintelligible to those who are ignorant, and
useless to those who are acquainted with the business of the kitchen.

I have perused not fewer than 250 of these volumes.

During the Herculean labour of my tedious progress through these books,
few of which afford the germ of a single idea, I have often wished that
the authors of them had been satisfied with giving us the results of
their own practice and experience, instead of idly perpetuating the
errors, prejudices, and plagiarisms of their predecessors; the strange,
and unaccountable, and uselessly extravagant farragoes and heterogeneous
compositions which fill their pages, are combinations no rational being
would ever think of either dressing or eating; and without ascertaining
the practicability of preparing the receipts, and their fitness for food
when done, they should never have ventured to recommend them to others:
the reader of them will often put the same _quære_, as _Jeremy_, in
Congreve’s comedy of “_Love for Love_,” when _Valentine_ observes,
“There’s a page doubled down in Epictetus that is a feast for an
emperor.--_Jer._ Was Epictetus a real cook, or did he only write
receipts?”

Half of the modern cookery books are made up with pages cut out of
obsolete works, such as the “Choice Manual of Secrets,” the “True
Gentlewoman’s Delight,” &c. of as much use, in this age of refinement,
as the following curious passage from “The Accomplished Lady’s Rich
Closet of Rarities, or Ingenious Gentlewoman’s Delightful Companion,”
12mo. London, 1653, chapter 7, page 42; which I have inserted in a
note,[29-*] to give the reader a notion of the barbarous manners of the
16th century, with the addition of the arts of the confectioner, the
brewer, the baker, the distiller, the gardener, the clear-starcher, and
the perfumer, and how to make pickles, puff paste, butter, blacking, &c.
together with my _Lady Bountiful’s_ sovereign remedy for an inward
bruise, and other ever-failing nostrums,--_Dr. Killemquick’s_
wonder-working essence, and fallible elixir, which cures all manner of
incurable maladies directly minute, _Mrs. Notable’s_ instructions how to
make soft pomatum, that will soon make more hair grow upon thy head,
“than Dobbin, thy thill-horse, hath upon his tail,” and many others
equally invaluable!!!--the proper appellation for which would be “a
dangerous budget of vulgar errors,” concluding with a bundle of extracts
from “the Gardener’s Calendar,” and “the Publican’s Daily Companion.”

Thomas Carter, in the preface to his “City and Country Cook,” London,
1738, says, “What I have published is almost the only book, one or two
excepted, which of late years has come into the world, that has been the
result of the author’s own practice and experience; for though very few
eminent practical cooks have ever cared to publish what they knew of the
art, yet they have been prevailed on, for a small premium from a
bookseller, to lend their names to performances in this art unworthy
their owning.”

Robert May, in the introduction to his “Accomplished Cook,” 1665, says,
“To all honest and well-intending persons of my profession, and others,
this book cannot but be acceptable, as it plainly and profitably
discovers the mystery of the whole art; for which, though I may be
envied by some, that only value their private interests above posterity
and the public good; yet (he adds), God and my own conscience would not
permit me to bury these, my experiences, with my silver hairs in the
grave.”

Those high and mighty masters and mistresses of the alimentary art, who
call themselves “_profess_” cooks, are said to be very jealous and
mysterious beings; and that if, in a long life of laborious stove-work,
they have found out a few useful secrets, they seldom impart to the
public the fruits of their experience; but sooner than divulge their
discoveries for the benefit and comfort of their fellow-creatures, these
silly, selfish beings will rather run the risk of a reprimand from their
employers, and will sooner spoil a good dinner, than suffer their
fellow-servants to see how they dress it!!!

The silly selfishness of short-sighted mortals, is never more extremely
absurd than in their unprofitable parsimony of what is of no use to
them, but would be of actual value to others, who, in return, would
willingly repay them tenfold. However, I hope I may be permitted to
quote, in defence of these culinary professors, a couple of lines of a
favourite old song:

“If you search the world round, each profession, you’ll find,
Hath some snug little secrets, which the Mystery[30-*] they call.”

MY RECEIPTS are the results of experiments carefully made, and
accurately and circumstantially related;

The TIME requisite for dressing being stated;

The QUANTITIES of the various articles contained in each composition
being carefully set down in NUMBER, WEIGHT, and MEASURE.

The WEIGHTS are _avoirdupois_; the MEASURE, _Lyne’s_ graduated glass, i.
e. a wine-pint divided into sixteen ounces, and the ounce into eight
drachms. By a _wine-glass_ is to be understood two ounces liquid
measure; by a large or _table-spoonful_, half an ounce; by a small or
_tea-spoonful_, a drachm, or half a quarter of an ounce, i. e. nearly
equal to two drachms avoirdupois.

At some glass warehouses, you may get measures divided into tea and
table-spoons. No cook should be without one, who wishes to be regular in
her business.

This precision has never before been attempted in cookery books, but I
found it indispensable from the impossibility of _guessing_ the
quantities intended by such obscure expressions as have been usually
employed for this purpose in former works:--

For instance: a bit of this--a handful of that--a pinch of t’other--do
’em over with an egg--and a sprinkle of salt--a dust of flour--a shake
of pepper--a squeeze of lemon,--or a dash of vinegar, &c. are the
constant phrases. Season it to your palate, (meaning the cook’s,) is
another form of speech: now, if she has any, (it is very unlikely that
it is in unison with that of her employers,) by continually sipping
_piquante_ relishes, it becomes blunted and insensible, and loses the
faculty of appreciating delicate flavours, so that every thing is done
at random.

These culinary technicals are so very differently understood by the
learned who write them, and the unlearned who read them, and their
“_rule of thumb_” is so extremely indefinite, that if the same dish be
dressed by different persons, it will generally be so different, that
nobody would imagine they had worked from the same directions, which
will assist a person who has not served a regular apprenticeship in the
kitchen, no more than reading “Robinson Crusoe” would enable a sailor to
steer safely from England to India.[32-*]

It is astonishing how cheap _cookery books_ are held by practical cooks:
when I applied to an experienced artist to recommend me some books that
would give me a notion of the rudiments of cookery, he replied, with a
smile, “You may read _Don Quixote_, or _Peregrine Pickle_, they are both
very good books.”

Careless expressions in cookery are the more surprising, as the
confectioner is regularly attentive, in the description of his
preparations, to give the exact quantities, though his business,
compared to cookery, is as unimportant as the ornamental is inferior to
the useful.

The maker of blanc-mange, custards, &c. and the endless and useless
collection of puerile playthings for the palate (of first and second
childhood, for the vigour of manhood seeketh not to be sucking sugar, or
sipping turtle), is scrupulously exact, even to a grain, in his
ingredients; while cooks are unintelligibly indefinite, although they
are intrusted with the administration of our FOOD, upon the proper
quality and preparation of which, all our powers of body and mind
depend; their energy being invariably in the ratio of the performance of
the restorative process, i. e. the quantity, quality, and perfect
digestion of what we eat and drink.

Unless _the stomach_ be in good humour, every part of the machinery of
_life_ must vibrate with languor: can we then be too attentive to its
adjustment?!!

CULINARY CURIOSITIES.

The following specimen of the unaccountably whimsical harlequinade
of foreign kitchens is from “La Chapelle” Nouveau Cuisinier, Paris,
1748.

“A turkey,” in the shape of “_football_,” or “_a hedge-hog_.” A
“shoulder of mutton,” in the shape of a “_bee-hive_.”--“Entrée of
pigeons,” in the form of a “_spider_,” or _sun_-fashion, or “in the
form of a _frog_,” or, in “the form of the _moon_.”--Or, “to make
a pig taste like a wild boar;” take _a living pig_, and _let him_
swallow the following drink, viz. boil together in vinegar and
water, some rosemary, thyme, sweet basil, bay leaves, and sage;
when you have _let him_ swallow this, _immediately whip him to
death_, and roast him forthwith. How “to still a cocke for a weak
bodie that is consumed,--take a red cocke that is not too olde, and
beat him to death.”--See THE BOOKE OF COOKRYE, very necessary for
all such as delight therein. Gathered by A. W., 1591, p. 12. How to
ROAST _a pound of_ BUTTER, curiously and well; and to _farce_ (the
culinary technical for _to stuff_) a boiled leg of lamb with red
herrings and garlic; with many other receipts of as high a relish,
and of as easy digestion as the _devil’s venison_, i. e. a roasted
tiger stuffed with tenpenny nails, or the “_Bonne Bouche_,” the
rareskin Rowskimowmowsky offered to Baron Munchausen, “a fricassee
of pistols, with gunpowder and alcohol sauce.”--See the _Adventures
of Baron Munchausen_, 12mo. 1792, p. 200; and _the horrible but
authentic account of_ ARDESOIF, in MOUBRAY’S _Treatise on Poultry_,
8vo. 1816, p. 18.

But the most extraordinary of all the culinary receipts that have
been under my eye, is the following diabolically cruel directions
of Mizald, “_how to roast and eat a goose alive_.” “Take a GOOSE or
a DUCK, or some such _lively creature_, (but a goose is best of all
for this purpose,) pull off all her feathers, only the head and
neck must be spared: then make a fire round about her, not too
close to her, that the smoke do not choke her, and that the fire
may not burn her too soon; nor too far off, that she may not escape
free: within the circle of the fire let there be set small cups and
pots full of water, wherein salt and honey are mingled: and let
there be set also chargers full of sodden apples, cut into small
pieces in the dish. The goose must be all larded, and basted over
with butter, to make her the more fit to be eaten, and may roast
the better: put then fire about her, but do not make too much
haste, when as you see her begin to roast; for by walking about,
and flying here and there, being cooped in by the fire that stops
her way out, the unwearied goose is kept in; she will fall to drink
the water to quench her thirst and cool her heart, and all her
body, and the apple-sauce will make her dung, and cleanse and empty
her. And when she roasteth, and consumes inwardly, always wet her
head and heart with a wet sponge; and when you see her giddy with
running, and begin to stumble, her heart wants moisture, and she is
roasted enough. Take her up, set her before your guests, and she
will cry as you cut off any part from her, and will be almost eaten
up before she be dead; it is mighty pleasant to behold!!”--See
WECKER’S _Secrets of Nature_, in folio, London, 1660, p. 148.
309.[33-*]

“We suppose Mr. Mizald stole this receipt from the kitchen of his
infernal majesty; probably it might have been one of the dishes the
devil ordered when he invited Nero and Caligula to a feast.”--_A.
C., Jun._

This is also related in BAPTISTA PORTA’S _Natural Magicke_, fol.
1658, p. 321. This very curious (but not scarce) book contains,
among other strange tricks and fancies of “the Olden Time,”
directions, “_how to_ ROAST _and_ BOIL _a fowl at the same time, so
that one-half shall be_ ROASTED _and the other_ BOILED;” and “_if
you have a lacke of cooks, how to persuade a goose to roast
himselfe_!!”--See a second act of the above tragedy in page 80 of
the Gentleman’s Magazine for January, 1809.

Many articles were in vogue in the 14th century, which are now
obsolete. We add the following specimens of the CULINARY AFFAIRS OF
DAYS OF YORE.

_Sauce for a goose, A.D. 1381._

“Take a faire panne, and set hit under the goose whill she rostes;
and kepe clene the grese that droppes thereof, and put thereto a
godele (good deal) of Wyn, and a litel vinegur, and verjus, and
onyons mynced, or garlek; then take the gottes (gut) of the goose
and slitte hom, and scrape hom clene in water and salt, and so wash
hom, and hack hom small, then do all this togedur in a piffenet
(pipkin), and do thereto raisinges of corance, and pouder of pepur
and of ginger, and of canell and hole clowes and maces, and let hit
boyle and serve hit forthe.”

“That unwieldy marine animal the PORPUS was dressed in a variety of
modes, salted, roasted, stewed, &c. Our ancestors were not singular
in their partiality to it; I find, from an ingenious friend of
mine, that it is even now, A. D. 1790, sold in the markets of most
towns in Portugal; the flesh of it is intolerably hard and
rancid.”--WARNER’S _Antiq. Cul._ 4to. p. 15.

“The SWAN[33-+] was also a dish of state, and in high fashion when
the elegance of the feast was estimated by the magnitude of the
articles of which it was composed; the number consumed at the Earl
of Northumberland’s table, A. D. 1512, amounted to
twenty.”--_Northumberland Household-book_, p. 108.

“The CRANE was a darling dainty in _William the Conqueror’s_ time,
and so partial was that monarch to it, that when his prime
favourite, William Fitz-Osborne, the steward of the household,
served him with a crane scarcely half roasted, the king was so
highly exasperated, that he lifted up his fist, and would have
strucken him, had not _Eudo_ (appointed _Dapifer_ immediately
after) warded off the blow.”--WARNER’S _Antiq. Cul._ p. 12.

SEALS, CURLEWS, HERONS, BITTERNS, and the PEACOCK, that noble bird,
“the food of lovers and the meat of lords,” were also at this time
in high fashion, when the baronial entertainments were
characterized by a grandeur and pompous ceremonial, approaching
nearly to the magnificence of royalty; there was scarcely any royal
or noble feast without PECOKKES, which were stuffed with spices and
sweet herbs, roasted and served up whole, and covered after
dressing with the skin and feathers; the beak and comb gilt, and
the tail spread, and some, instead of the feathers, covered it with
leaf gold; it was a common dish on grand occasions, and continued
to adorn the English table till the beginning of the seventeenth
century.

In Massinger’s play of “The City Madam,” Holdfast, exclaiming
against city luxury, says, “three fat wethers bruised, to make
sauce for a single peacock.”

This bird is one of those luxuries which were often sought, because
they were seldom found: its scarcity and external appearance are
its only recommendation; the meat of it is tough and tasteless.

Another favourite dish at the tables of our forefathers, was a PIE
of stupendous magnitude, out of which, on its being opened, a flock
of living birds flew forth, to the no small surprise and amusement
of the guests.

“Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie;
When the pie was open’d, the birds began to sing--
Oh! what a dainty dish--’t is fit for any king.”

This was a common joke at an old English feast. These _animated_
pies were often introduced “to set on,” as Hamlet says, “a quantity
of barren spectators to laugh;” there is an instance of a dwarf
undergoing such an _incrustation_. About the year 1630, king
Charles and his queen were entertained by the duke and dutchess of
Buckingham, at Burleigh on the Hill, on which occasion JEFFERY
HUDSON, _the dwarf_, was served up in a cold pie.--See WALPOLE’S
_Anecdotes of Painting_, vol. ii. p. 14.

The BARON OF BEEF was another favourite and substantial support of
old English hospitality.

Among the most polished nations of the 15th and 16th centuries, the
_powdered_ (salted) _horse_, seems to have been a dish in some
esteem: _Grimalkin_ herself could not escape the undistinguishing
fury of the cook. Don Anthony of Guevera, the chronicler to Charles
V., gives the following account of a feast at which he was present.
“I will tell you no lye, I sawe such kindes of meates eaten, as are
wont to be sene, but not eaten--_as a_ HORSE _roasted_--a CAT _in
gely_--LYZARDS in hot brothe, FROGGES fried,” &c.

While we are thus considering the curious dishes of olden times, we
will cursorily mention the _singular diet_ of two or three nations
of antiquity, noticed by _Herodotus_, lib. iv. “The _Androphagi_
(the cannibals of the ancient world) greedily devoured the
carcasses of their fellow-creatures; while the inoffensive _Cabri_
(a Scythian tribe) found both food and drink in the agreeable nut
of the Pontic tree. The _Lotophagi_ lived entirely on the fruit of
the _Lotus tree_. The savage _Troglodyte_ esteemed a _living
serpent_ the most delicate of all morsels; while the capricious
palate of the _Zyguntini_ preferred the _ape_ to every
thing.”--Vide WARNER’S _Antiq. Cul._ p. 135.

“The Romans, in the luxurious period of their empire, took five
meals a day; a breakfast (_jentaculum_;) a dinner, which was a
light meal without any formal preparation (_prandium_); a kind of
_tea_, as we should call it, between dinner and supper (_merenda_);
a supper (_cæna_), which was their great meal, and commonly
consisted of two courses; the first of meats, the second, what we
call a dessert; and a posset, or something delicious after supper
(_commissatio_).”--ADAM’S _Rom. Antiq._ 2d edition, 8vo. 1792, p.
434 and 447.

“The Romans usually began their entertainments with eggs, and ended
with fruits; hence, AB OVO USQUE AD MALA, from the beginning to the
end of supper, _Horat. Sat._ i. 3. 6; _Cic. Fam._ ix. 20.

“The dishes (_edulia_) held in the highest estimation by the Romans,
are enumerated, _Gell._ vii. 16, _Macrob. Sat._ ii. 9, _Martial._ v.
79, ix. 48, xi. 53, &c., a peacock (PAVO), _Horat. Sat._ ii. 2. 23,
_Juvenal._ i. 143, first used by Hortensius, the orator, at a
supper, which he gave when admitted into the college of priests,
(_aditiali cænd sacerdotii_,) Plin. x. 20, s. 23; a pheasant,
(PHASIANA, _ex_ Phasi. _Colchidis fluvio_,) Martial. iii. 58, xiii.
72, Senec. ad Helv. 9, Petron. 79, Manil. v. 372; a bird called
_Attagen_ vel-_ena_, from Ionia or Phrygia, _Horat. Epod._ ii. 54,
_Martial._ xiii. iii. 61, a guinea-hen, (_avis Afra_, Horat. ib.
_Gallina Numidica_ vel _Africana_, Juvenal, xi. 142, Martial, xiii.
73); a Melian crane; an Ambracian kid; nightingales, _lusciniæ_;
thrushes, _turdi_; ducks, geese, &c. TOMACULUM, (ἁ τεμνω,) _vel_
ISICIUM, (ab _inseco_;) sausages or puddings, _Juvenal._ x. 355.
_Martial._ 42. 9, _Petron._ 31.”--Vide _ibid._ p. 447.

That the English reader may be enabled to form some idea of the
heterogeneous messes with which the Roman palate was delighted, I
introduce the following receipt from _Apicius_.

“THICK SAUCE FOR A BOILED CHICKEN.--Put the following ingredients
into a mortar: aniseed, dried mint, and lazar-root (similar to
assafœtida), cover them with vinegar; add dates; pour in liquamen,
oil, and a small quantity of mustard seeds; reduce all to a proper
thickness with port wine warmed; and then pour this same over your
chicken, which should previously be boiled in anise-seed water.”

_Liquamen_ and _Garum_ were synonymous terms for the same thing;
the former adopted in the room of the latter, about the age of
_Aurelian_. It was a liquid, and thus prepared: the _guts_ of large
fish, and a variety of small fish, were put into a vessel and well
salted, and exposed to the sun till they became putrid. A liquor
was produced in a short time, which being strained off, was the
_liquamen_.--Vide LISTER _in Apicium_, p. 16, notes.

_Essence of anchovy_, as it is usually made for sale, when it has
been opened about ten days, is not much unlike the Roman
_liquamen_. See No. 433. Some suppose it was the same thing as the
Russian _Caviar_, which is prepared from the roe of the sturgeon.

The BLACK BROTH of _Lacedæmon_ will long continue to excite the
wonder of the philosopher, and the disgust of the epicure. What the
ingredients of this sable composition were, we cannot exactly
ascertain. _Jul. Pollux_ says, the Lacedæmonian black broth was
_blood_, thickened in a certain way: Dr. LISTER (_in Apicium_)
supposes it to have been _hog’s blood_; if so, this celebrated
Spartan dish bore no very distant resemblance to the
_black-puddings_ of our days. It could not be a very _alluring_
mess, since a citizen of _Sybaris_ having tasted it, declared it
was no longer a matter of astonishment with him, why the _Spartans_
were so fearless of death, since any one in his senses would much
rather die, than exist on such execrable food.--Vide _Athenæum_,
lib. iv. c. 3. When Dionysius the tyrant had tasted the _black
broth_, he exclaimed against it as miserable stuff; the cook
replied--“It was no wonder, for the sauce was wanting.” “What
sauce?” says Dionysius. The answer was,--“_Labour and exercise,
hunger and thirst, these are the sauces we Lacedæmonians use_,” and
they make the coarsest fare agreeable.--CICERO, 3 Tuscul.

FOOTNOTES:

[15-*] “The STOMACH is the grand organ of the human system, upon
the state of which all the powers and feelings of the individual
depend.”--_See_ HUNTER’S _Culina_, p. 13.

“The faculty the stomach has of communicating the impressions made by
the various substances that are put into it, is such, that it seems more
like a nervous expansion of the brain, than a mere receptacle for
food.”--Dr. WATERHOUSE’S _Lecture on Health_, p. 4.

[17-*] I wish most heartily that the restorative process was performed
by us poor mortals in as easy and simple a manner as it is in “_the
cooking animals in the moon_,” who “lose no time at their meals; but
open their left side, and place the whole quantity at once in their
stomachs, then shut it, till the same day in the next month, for they
never indulge themselves with food more than twelve times in a
year.”--_See_ BARON MUNCHAUSEN’S _Travels_, p. 188.

Pleasing the palate is the main end in most books of cookery, but _it is
my aim to blend the toothsome with the wholesome_; but, after all,
however the hale gourmand may at first differ from me in opinion, the
latter is the chief concern; since if he be even so entirely devoted to
the pleasure of eating as to think of no other, still the care of his
health becomes part of that; if he is sick he cannot relish his food.

“The term _gourmand_, or EPICURE, has been strangely perverted; it has
been conceived synonymous with a glutton, ‘_né pour la digestion_,’ who
will eat as long as he can sit, and drink longer than he can stand, nor
leave his cup while he can lift it; or like the great eater of Kent whom
FULLER places among his worthies, and tells us that he did eat with ease
_thirty dozens of pigeons_ at one meal; at another, _fourscore rabbits_
and _eighteen yards of black pudding_, London measure!--or a fastidious
appetite, only to be excited by fantastic dainties, as the brains of
_peacocks_ or _parrots_, the tongues of _thrushes_ or _nightingales_, or
the teats of a lactiferous _sow_.

“In the acceptation which I give to the term EPICURE, it means only the
person who has good sense and good taste enough to wish to have his food
cooked according to scientific principles; that is to say, so prepared
that the palate be not offended--that it be rendered easy of solution in
the stomach, and ultimately contribute to health; exciting him as an
animal to the vigorous enjoyment of those recreations and duties,
physical and intellectual, which constitute the happiness and dignity of
his nature.” For this illustration I am indebted to my scientific friend
_Apicius Cælius, Jun._, with whose erudite observations several pages of
this work are enriched, to which I have affixed the signature _A. C.,
Jun._

[18-*] “Although AIR is more immediately necessary to life than FOOD,
the knowledge of the latter seems of more importance; it admits
certainly of great variety, and a choice is more frequently in our
power. A very spare and simple diet has commonly been recommended as
most conducive to health; but it would be more beneficial to mankind if
we could show them that a pleasant and varied diet was equally
consistent with health, as the very strict regimen of Arnard, or the
miller of Essex. These, and other abstemious people, who, having
experienced the greatest extremities of bad health, were driven to
temperance as their last resource, may run out in praises of a simple
diet; but the probability is, that nothing but the dread of former
sufferings could have given them the resolution to persevere in so
strict a course of abstinence, which persons who are in health and have
no such apprehension could not be induced to undertake, or, if they did,
would not long continue.

“In all cases, great allowance must be made for the weakness of human
nature: the desires and appetites of mankind must, to a certain degree,
be gratified, and the man who wishes to be most useful will imitate the
indulgent parent, who, while he endeavours to promote the true interests
of his children, allows them the full enjoyment of all those innocent
pleasures which they take delight in. If it could be pointed out to
mankind that some articles used as food were hurtful, while others were
in their nature innocent, and that the latter were numerous, various,
and pleasant, they might, perhaps, be induced to forego those which were
hurtful, and confine themselves to those which were innocent.”--_See_
Dr. STARK’S _Experiments on Diet_, pp. 89 and 90.

[19-*] See a curious account in COURS GASTRONOMIQUE, p. 145, and in
Anacharsis’ Travels, Robinson, 1796, vol. ii. p. 58, and _Obs._ and note
under No. 493.

[19-+] See the 2d, 3d, and 4th pages of Sir WM. TEMPLE’S _Essay on the
Cure of the Gout by Moxa_.

[20-*] “He that would have a _clear head_, must have a _clean
stomach_.”--Dr. CHEYNE _on Health_, 8vo. 1724, p. 34.

“It is sufficiently manifest how much uncomfortable feelings of the
bowels affect the nervous system, and how immediately and completely the
general disorder is relieved by an alvine evacuation.”--p. 53.

“We cannot reasonably expect tranquillity of the nervous system, while
there is disorder of the digestive organs. As we can perceive no
permanent source of strength but from the digestion of our food, it
becomes important on this account that we should attend to its quantity,
quality, and the periods of taking it, with a view to ensure its proper
digestion.”--ABERNETHY’S _Sur. Obs._ 8vo. 1817, p. 65.

[20-+] “If science can really contribute to the happiness of mankind, it
must be in this department; the real comfort of the majority of men in
this country is sought for at their own fireside; how desirable does it
then become to give every inducement to be at home, by directing all the
means of philosophy to increase domestic happiness!”--SYLVESTER’S
_Philosophy of Domestic Economy_, 4to. 1819, p. 17.

[20-++] The best books of cookery have been written by physicians.--Sir
KENELME DIGBY--Sir THEODORE MAYERNE.--See the last quarter of page 304
of vol. x. of the _Phil. Trans._ for 1675.--Professor BRADLEY--Dr.
HILL--Dr. LE COINTE--Dr. HUNTER, &c.

“To understand the THEORY OF COOKERY, we must attend to the action of
heat upon the various constituents of alimentary substances as applied
directly and indirectly through the medium of some fluid, in the former
way as exemplified.” In the processes of ROASTING and BOILING, the chief
constituents of animal substances undergo the following changes--the
_fibrine_ is corrugated, the _albumen_ coagulated, the _gelatine_ and
_osmazome_ rendered more soluble in water, the _fat_ liquefied, and the
_water_ evaporated.

“If the heat exceed a certain degree, the surface becomes first brown,
and then scorched. In consequence of these changes, the muscular fibre
becomes opaque, shorter, firmer, and drier; the tendons less opaque,
softer, and gluey; the fat is either melted out, or rendered
semi-transparent. Animal fluids become more transparent: the albumen is
coagulated and separated, and they dissolve gelatine and osmazome.

“Lastly, and what is the most important change, and the immediate object
of all cookery, the meat loses the vapid nauseous smell and taste
peculiar to its raw state, and it becomes savoury and grateful.

“Heat applied through the intervention of boiling oil, or melted fat, as
in FRYING, produces nearly the same changes; as the heat is sufficient
to evaporate the water, and to induce a degree of scorching.

“But when water is the medium through which heat is applied--as in
BOILING, STEWING, and BAKING, the effects are somewhat different, as the
heat never exceeds 212°, which is not sufficient to commence the process
of browning or decomposition, and the soluble constituents are removed
by being dissolved in the water, forming soup or broth; or, if the
direct contact of the water be prevented, they are dissolved in the
juices of the meat, and separate in the form of gravy.”

Vide Supplement to _Encyclop. Brit. Edin._ vol. iv. p. 344, the article
“FOOD,” to which we refer our reader as the most scientific paper on the
subject we have seen.

[21-*] “Health, beauty, strength, and spirits, and I might add all the
faculties of the mind, depend upon the organs of the body; when these
are in good order, the thinking part is most alert and active, the
contrary when they are disturbed or diseased.”--Dr. CADOGAN _on Nursing
Children_, 8vo. 1757, p. 5.

[22-*] “We have some good families in England of the name of _Cook_ or
_Coke_. I know not what they may think; but they may depend upon it,
they all originally sprang from real and professional cooks; and they
need not be ashamed of their extraction, any more than the _Parkers,
Butlers, &c._”--Dr. PEGGE’S _Forme of Cury_, p. 162.

[22-+] It is said, there are SEVEN _chances against even the most simple
dish being presented to the mouth in absolute perfection_; for instance,
A LEG OF MUTTON.

1st.--The mutton must be _good_. 2d.--Must have been kept a _good_ time.
3d.--Must be roasted at a _good_ fire. 4th.--By a _good_ cook. 5th.--Who
must be in _good_ temper. 6th.--With all this felicitous combination you
must have _good_ luck; and, 7th.--_Good_ appetite.--The meat, and the
mouths which are to eat it, must be ready for action at the same moment.

[23-*] To guard against “_la gourmandise_” of the second table, “provide
each of your servants with a large pair of spectacles of the highest
magnifying power, and never permit them to sit down to any meal without
wearing them; they are as necessary, and as useful in a kitchen as pots
and kettles: they will make a _lark_ look as large as a FOWL, a _goose_
as big as a SWAN, a leg of mutton as large as a hind quarter of beef; a
twopenny loaf as large as a quartern;” and as philosophers assure you
that pain even is only imaginary, we may justly believe the same of
hunger; and if a servant who eats no more than one pound of food,
imagines, by the aid of these glasses, that he has eaten three pounds,
his hunger will be as fully satisfied--and the addition to your
optician’s account, will soon be overpaid by the subtraction from your
butcher’s and baker’s.

[25-*] Much real reformation might be effected, and most grateful
services obtained, if families which consist wholly of females, would
take servants recommended from the MAGDALEN--PENITENTIARY--or
GUARDIAN--who seek to be restored to virtuous society.

“_Female servants_ who pursue an honest course, have to travel, in their
peculiar orbit, through a more powerfully resisting medium than perhaps
any other class of people in civilized life; they should be treated with
something like Christian kindness: for want of this, a fault which might
at the time have been easily amended has become the source of
interminable sorrow.”

“By the clemency and benevolent interference of two mistresses known to
the writer, two servants have become happy wives, who, had they been in
some situations, would have been literally outcasts.”

A most laudable SOCIETY for the ENCOURAGEMENT of FEMALE SERVANTS, by a
gratuitous registry, and by rewards, was instituted in 1813; plans of
which may be had _gratis_ at the Society’s House, No. 10, Hatton Garden.
The above is an extract from the REV. H. G. WATKINS’S _Hints to Heads of
Families_, a work well deserving the attentive consideration of
inexperienced housekeepers.

[26-*] The greatest care should be taken by the man of fashion, that his
cook’s health be preserved: one hundredth part of the attention usually
bestowed on his dog, or his horse, will suffice to regulate her animal
system.

“Cleanliness, and a proper ventilation to carry off smoke and steam,
should be particularly attended to in the construction of a kitchen; the
grand scene of action, the fire-place, should be placed where it may
receive plenty of light; hitherto the contrary has prevailed, and the
poor cook is continually basted with her own perspiration.”--_A. C.,
Jun._

“The most experienced artists in cookery cannot be certain of their work
without tasting: they must be incessantly tasting. The spoon of a good
cook is continually passing from the stewpan to his tongue; nothing but
frequent tasting his sauces, ragoûts, &c. can discover to him what
progress they have made, or enable him to season a soup with any
certainty of success; his palate, therefore, must be in the highest
state of excitability, that the least fault may be perceived in an
instant.

“But, alas! the constant empyreumatic fumes of the stoves, the necessity
of frequent drinking, and often of bad beer, to moisten a parched
throat; in short, every thing around him conspires quickly to vitiate
the organs of taste; the palate becomes blunted; its quickness of
feeling and delicacy, on which the sensibility of the organs of taste
depends, grows daily more obtuse; and in a short time the gustatory
nerve becomes quite unexcitable.

“IF YOU FIND YOUR COOK NEGLECT HIS BUSINESS--that his _ragoûts_ are too
highly spiced or salted, and his cookery has too much of the ‘_haut
goût_,’ you may be sure that _his index of taste_ wants regulating; his
palate has lost its sensibility, and it is high time to call in the
assistance of the apothecary.

“‘_Purger souvent_’ is the grand maxim in all kitchens where _le Maître
d’Hôtel_ has any regard for the reputation of his table. _Les Bons
Hommes de Bouche_ submit to the operation without a murmur; to bind
others, it should be made the first condition in hiring them. Those who
refuse, prove they were not born to become masters of their art; and
their indifference to fame will rank them, as they deserve, among those
slaves who pass their lives in as much obscurity as their own stewpans.”

To the preceding observations from the “_Almanach des Gourmands_,” we
may add, that the _Mouthician_ will have a still better chance of
success, if he can prevail on his master to observe the same _régime_
which he orders for his cook; or, instead of endeavouring to awaken an
idle appetite by reading the index to a cookery book, or an additional
use of the pepper-box and salt-cellar, rather seek it from abstinence or
exercise;--the philosophical _gourmand_ will consider that the edge of
our appetite is generally keen, in proportion to the activity of our
other habits; let him attentively peruse our “PEPTIC PRECEPTS,” &c.
which briefly explain the art of refreshing the gustatory nerves, and of
invigorating the whole system. See in the following chapter on
INVITATIONS TO DINNER--A recipe to make FORTY PERISTALTIC PERSUADERS.

[27-*] “She must be quick and strong of sight; her hearing most acute,
that she may be sensible when the contents of her vessels bubble,
although they be closely covered, and that she may be alarmed before the
pot boils over; her auditory nerve ought to discriminate (when several
saucepans are in operation at the same time) the simmering of one, the
ebullition of another, and the full-toned wabbling of a third.

“It is imperiously requisite that her organ of smell be highly
susceptible of the various effluvia, that her nose may distinguish the
perfection of aromatic ingredients, and that in animal substances it
shall evince a suspicious accuracy between tenderness and putrefaction;
above all, her olfactories should be tremblingly alive to mustiness and
empyreuma.

“It is from the exquisite sensibility of her palate, that we admire and
judge of the cook; from the alliance between the olfactory and sapid
organs, it will be seen that their perfection is indispensable.”--_A.
C., Jun._

[28-*] A facetious _gourmand_ suggests that the old story of “lighting a
candle to the devil,” probably arose from this adage--and was an
offering presented to his infernal majesty by some epicure who was in
want of a cook.

[29-*] “A gentlewoman being at table, abroad or at home, must observe to
keep her body straight, and lean not by any means with her elbows, nor
by ravenous gesture discover a voracious appetite: talk not when you
have _meat_ in your _mouth_; and do not smack like _a pig_, nor venture
to eat _spoonmeat_ so hot that the tears stand in your eyes, which is as
unseemly as the _gentlewoman_ who pretended to have as little a
_stomach_ as she had a _mouth_, and therefore would not swallow her
_pease_ by spoonfuls; but took them one by one, and cut them in two
before she would eat them. It is very uncomely to drink so large a
_draught_ that your _breath_ is almost gone--and are forced to blow
strongly to recover yourself--throwing down your _liquor_ as into a
_funnel_ is an action fitter for a juggler than a _gentlewoman_: thus
much for your observations in general; if I am defective as to
particulars, your own _prudence, discretion, and curious observations_
will supply.”

“In CARVING at your own _table_, distribute the best pieces first, and
it will appear very comely and decent to use a _fork_; so touch no piece
of _meat_ without it.”

“_Mem._ The English are indebted to TOM CORYAT for introducing THE FORK,
for which they called him _Furcifer_.”--See his _Crudities_, vol. i. p.
106.--Edit. 1776, 8vo.

[30-*] “Almost all arts and sciences are more or less encumbered with
vulgar errors and prejudices, which avarice and ignorance have
unfortunately sufficient influence to preserve, by help (or hindrance)
of mysterious, undefinable, and not seldom unintelligible, technical
terms--Anglicè, nicknames--which, instead of enlightening the subject it
is professedly pretended they were invented to illuminate, serve but to
shroud it in almost impenetrable obscurity; and, in general, so
extravagantly fond are the professors of an art of keeping up all the
pomp, circumstance, and mystery of it, and of preserving the accumulated
prejudices of ages past undiminished, that one might fairly suppose
those who have had the courage and perseverance to overcome these
obstacles, and penetrate the veil of science, were delighted with
placing difficulties in the way of those who may attempt to follow them,
on purpose to deter them from the pursuit, and that they cannot bear
others should climb the hill of knowledge by a readier road than they
themselves did: and such is _l’esprit de corps_, that as their
predecessors supported themselves by serving it out _gradatim et
stillatim_, and retailing with a sparing hand the information they so
hardly obtained, they find it convenient to follow their example: and,
willing to do as they have been done by, leave and bequeath the
inheritance undiminished to those who may succeed them.”--See p. 10 of
Dr. KITCHINER _on Telescopes_, 12mo. 1825, printed for Whittaker, Ave
Maria Lane.

[32-*] “In the present language of cookery, there has been a woful
departure from the simplicity of our ancestors,--such a farrago of
unappropriate and unmeaning terms, many corrupted from the French,
others disguised from the Italian, some misapplied from the German,
while many are a disgrace to the English. What can any person suppose to
be the meaning of _a shoulder of lamb in epigram_, unless it were a poor
dish, for a pennyless poet? _Aspect of fish_, would appear calculated
for an astrologer; and _shoulder of mutton surprised_, designed for a
sheep-stealer.”--_A. C., Jun._

[33-*] See note to No. 59 how to plump the liver of a goose.

[33-+] “It is a curious illustration of the _de gustibus non eat
disputandum_, that the ancients considered the _swan_ as a high
delicacy, and abstained from the flesh of the _goose_ as impure and
indigestible.”--MOUBRAY _on Poultry_, p. 36.

INVITATIONS TO DINNER

In “the affairs of the mouth” the strictest punctuality is
indispensable; the GASTRONOMER ought to be as accurate an observer of
time, as the ASTRONOMER. The least delay produces fatal and irreparable
misfortunes.

Almost all other ceremonies and civil duties may be put off for several
hours without much inconvenience, and all may be postponed without
absolute danger. A little delay may try the patience of those who are
waiting; but the act itself will be equally perfect and equally valid.
Procrastination sometimes is rather advantageous than prejudicial. It
gives time for reflection, and may prevent our taking a step which would
have made us miserable for life; the delay of a courier has prevented
the conclusion of a convention, the signing of which might have
occasioned the ruin of a nation.

If, from affairs the most important, we descend to our pleasures and
amusements, we shall find new arguments in support of our assertions.
The putting off of a rendezvous, or a ball, &c. will make them the more
delightful. To _hope_ is to _enjoy_.

“Man never is, but always to be blest.”

The anticipation of pleasure warms our imagination, and keeps those
feelings alive, which possession too often extinguishes.

“’Tis _expectation_ only makes us blest;
_Enjoyment_ disappoints us at the best.”

Dr. Johnson has most sagaciously said; “Such is the state of life, that
none are happy, but by the anticipation of change: the change itself is
nothing: when we have made it, the next wish is, immediately to change
again.”

However singular our assertions may have at first appeared to those who
have not considered the subject, we hope by this time we have made
converts of our readers, and convinced the “_Amateurs de Bonne Chère_”
of the truth and importance of our remarks; and that they will remember,
that DINNER is the only act of the day which cannot be put off with
impunity, for even FIVE MINUTES.

In a well-regulated family, all the clocks and watches should agree; on
this depends the fate of the dinner; what would be agreeable to the
stomach, and restorative to the system, if served at FIVE o’clock, will
be uneatable and innutritive and indigestible at A QUARTER PAST.

The dining-room should be furnished with a good-going clock; the space
over the kitchen fire-place with another, vibrating in unison with the
former, so placed, that the cook may keep one eye on the clock, and the
other on the spit, &c. She will calculate to a minute the time required
to roast a large capon or a little lark, and is equally attentive to the
degree of heat of her stove, and the time her sauce remains on it, when
to withdraw the bakings from the oven, the roast from the spit, and the
stew from the pan.

With all our love of punctuality, the first consideration must still be,
that the dinner “be well done, when ’t is done.”

It is a common fault with cooks who are anxious about time, to overdress
every thing--the guests had better wait than the dinner--a little delay
will improve their appetite; but if the dinner waits for the guests, it
will be deteriorated every minute: the host who wishes to entertain his
friends with food perfectly well dressed, while he most earnestly
endeavours to impress on their minds the importance of being punctual to
the appointed hour, will still allow his cook a quarter of an hour’s
grace.

The old adage that “the eye is often bigger than the belly,” is often
verified by the ridiculous vanity of those who wish to make an
appearance above their fortune. Nothing can be more ruinous to real
comfort than the too common custom of setting out a table, with a parade
and a profusion, unsuited not only to the circumstances of the hosts,
but to the number of the guests; or more fatal to true hospitality, than
the multiplicity of dishes which luxury has made fashionable at the
tables of the great, the wealthy, and the ostentatious, who are, often,
neither great nor wealthy.

Such pompous preparation, instead of being a compliment to our guests,
is nothing better than an indirect offence; it is a tacit insinuation,
that it is absolutely necessary to provide such delicacies to bribe the
depravity of their palates, when we desire the pleasure of their
company; and that society now, must be purchased, at the same price
SWIFT told POPE he was obliged to pay for it in Ireland. “I should
hardly prevail to find one visiter, if I were not able to hire him with
a bottle of wine.” Vide Swift’s letters to Pope, July 10th, 1732.

When twice as much cooking is undertaken as there are servants, or
conveniences in the kitchen to do it properly, dishes must be dressed
long before the dinner hour, and stand by spoiling--the poor cook loses
her credit, and the poor guests get indigestions. Why prepare for eight
or ten friends, more than sufficient for twenty or thirty visiters?
“Enough is as good as a feast,” and a prudent provider, who sensibly
takes measure of the stomachic, instead of the SILLY ocular, appetite of
his guests, may entertain his friends, three times as often, and ten
times as well.

It is your SENSELESS SECOND COURSES--ridiculous variety of WINES,
LIQUEURS, ICES,[38-*] DESSERTS, &c.--which are served up merely to feed
the eye, or pamper palled appetite, that _overcome the stomach and
paralyze digestion_, and seduce “children of a larger growth” to
sacrifice the health and comfort of several days, for the baby-pleasure
of tickling their tongue for a few minutes, with trifles and custards!!!
&c. &c.

“INDIGESTION will sometimes overtake the most experienced epicure; when
the gustatory nerves are in good humour, hunger and savoury viands will
sometimes seduce the tongue of a ‘_grand gourmand_’ to betray the
interests of his stomach in spite of his brains.

“On such an unfortunate occasion, when the stomach sends forth
eructant[38-+] signals of distress, the _peristaltic persuaders_ are as
agreeable and effectual assistance as can be offered; and for delicate
constitutions, and those that are impaired by age or intemperance, are a
valuable panacea.

“They derive, and deserve this name, from the peculiar mildness of their
operation. One or two very gently increase the action of the principal
viscera, help them to do their work a little faster, and enable the
stomach to serve with an ejectment whatever offends it, and move it into
the bowels.

“Thus _indigestion_ is easily and speedily removed, _appetite_ restored,
the mouths of the absorbing vessels being cleansed, _nutrition_ is
facilitated, and _strength_ of body, and _energy_ of mind, are the happy
results.” See “PEPTIC PRECEPTS,” from which we extract the following
prescription--

To make FORTY PERISTALTIC PERSUADERS,

Take

Turkey rhubarb, finely pulverized, two drachms,
Syrup (by weight), one drachm,
Oil of carraway, ten drops (minims),
Made into pills, each of which will contain _three grains of rhubarb_.

“The DOSE OF THE PERSUADERS must be adapted to the constitutional
peculiarity of the patient. When you wish to accelerate or augment the
alvine exoneration, take two, three, or more, according to the effect
you desire to produce. _Two pills_ will do as much for one person, as
_five or six_ will for another: they will generally very regularly
perform what you wish to-day, without interfering with what you hope
will happen to-morrow; and are therefore as convenient an argument
against constipation as any we are acquainted with.

“The most convenient opportunity to introduce them to the stomach, is
early in the morning, when it is unoccupied, and has no particular
business of digestion, &c. to attend to--i. e. at least half an hour
before breakfast. Physic must never interrupt the stomach, when it is
busy in digesting food.

“From two to four persuaders will generally produce one additional
motion, within twelve hours. They may be taken at any time by the most
delicate females, whose constitutions are so often distressed by
constipation, and destroyed by the drastic purgatives they take to
relieve it.”

The cloth[39-*] should be laid in the parlour, and all the paraphernalia
of the dinner-table completely arranged, at least half an hour before
dinner-time.

The cook’s labour will be lost, if the parlour-table be not ready for
action, and the eaters ready for the eatables, which the least delay
will irreparably injure: therefore, the GOURMAND will be punctual for
the sake of gratifying his ruling passion; the INVALID, to avoid the
danger of encountering an _indigestion_ from eating ill-dressed food;
and the RATIONAL EPICURE, who happily attends the banquet with “_mens
sana in corpore sano_,” will keep the time not only for these strong
reasons, but that he may not lose the advantage of being introduced to
the other guests. He considers not only what is on the table, but who
are around it: his principal inducement to leave his own fireside, is
the charm of agreeable and instructive society, and the opportunity of
making connexions, which may augment the interest and enjoyment of
existence.

It is the most pleasing part of the duty of the master of the feast
(especially when the guests are not very numerous), to take advantage of
these moments to introduce them to one another, naming them individually
in an audible voice, and adroitly laying hold of those ties of
acquaintanceship or profession which may exist between them.

This will much augment the pleasures of the festive board, to which it
is indeed as indispensable a prelude, as an overture is to an opera: and
the host will thus acquire an additional claim to the gratitude of his
guests. We urge this point more strongly, because, from want of
attention to it, we have seen more than once persons whom many kindred
ties would have drawn closely together, pass an entire day without
opening their lips to each other, because they were mutually ignorant of
each other’s names, professions, and pursuits.

To put an end at once to all ceremony as to the order in which the
guests are to sit, it will save much time and trouble, if the mistress
of the mansion adopts the simple and elegant method of placing the name
of each guest in the plate which is intended for him. This proceeding
will be of course the result of consideration, and the host will place
those together whom he thinks will harmonize best.

_Le Journal des Dames_ informs us, that in several fashionable houses in
Paris, a new arrangement has been introduced in placing the company at a
dinner-table.

“The ladies first take their places, leaving intervals for the
gentlemen; after being seated, each is desired to call on a gentleman to
sit beside her; and thus the lady of the house is relieved from all
embarrassment of _étiquette_ as to rank and pretensions,” &c.

But, without doubt, says the Journalist, this method has its
inconveniences.

“It may happen that a bashful beauty dare not name the object of her
secret wishes; and an acute observer may determine, from a single
glance, that the _elected_ is not always the _chosen_.”

If the party is large, the founders of the feast may sit in the middle
of the table, instead of at each end, thus they will enjoy the pleasure
of attending equally to all their friends; and being in some degree
relieved from the occupation of carving, will have an opportunity of
administering all those little attentions which contribute so much to
the comfort of their guests.

If the GUESTS have any respect for their HOST, or prefer a well-dressed
dinner to one that is spoiled, instead of coming half an hour after,
they will take care to make their appearance a quarter of an hour before
the time appointed.

The operations of the cook are governed by the clock; the moment the
roasts, &c. are ready, they must go to the table, if they are to be
eaten in perfection.

An invitation to come at FIVE o’clock seems to be generally understood
to mean _six_; FIVE PRECISELY, _half past five_; and NOT LATER THAN FIVE
(so that dinner may be on the table within five minutes after, allowing
this for the variation of watches), FIVE O’CLOCK EXACTLY.

Be it known to all loyal subjects of the empire of good-living, that the
COMMITTEE OF TASTE have unanimously resolved, that “an invitation to
ETA. BETA. PI. must be in writing, and sent at least ten days before the
banquet; and must be answered in writing (as soon as possible after it
is received), within twenty-four hours at least,” especially if it be
not accepted: then, in addition to the usual complimentary expressions
of thanks, &c. the best possible reasons must be assigned for the
non-acceptance, as a particular pre-engagement, or severe indisposition,
&c. Before the bearer of it delivers it, he should ascertain if the
person it is directed to is at home; if he is not, when he will be; and
if he is not in town, to bring the summons back.

Nothing can be more disobliging than a refusal which is not grounded on
some very strong and unavoidable cause,--except not coming at the
appointed hour;--“according to the laws of conviviality, a certificate
from a sheriff’s officer, a doctor, or an undertaker, are the only pleas
which are admissible. The duties which invitation imposes do not fall
only on the persons invited, but, like all other social duties, are
reciprocal.

“As he who has accepted an invitation cannot disengage himself from it;
the master of the feast cannot put off the entertainment on any pretence
whatever. Urgent business, sickness, not even death itself, can dispense
with the obligation which he is under of giving the entertainment for
which he has sent out invitations, which have been accepted; for in the
extreme cases of compulsory absence, or death, his place may be filled
by his friend or executor.”--_Vide le Manuel des Amphitryons_, 8vo.
_Paris_, 1808; and _Cours Gastronomique_, 1809; to which the reader is
referred for farther instructions.

It is the least punishment that a blundering, ill-bred booby can
receive, who comes half an hour after the time he was bidden, to find
the soup removed, and the fish cold: moreover, for such an offence, let
him also be _mulcted_ in a pecuniary penalty, to be applied to the FUND
FOR THE BENEFIT OF DECAYED COOKS. This is the least punishment that can
be inflicted on one whose silence, or violation of an engagement, tends
to paralyze an entertainment, and to draw his friend into useless
expense.

BOILEAU, the French satirist, has a shrewd observation on this subject.
“I have always been punctual at the hour of dinner,” says the bard; “for
I knew, that all those whom I kept waiting at that provoking interval,
would employ those unpleasant moments to sum up all my faults.--BOILEAU
is indeed a man of genius, a very honest man; but that dilatory and
procrastinating way he has got into, would mar the virtues of an angel.”

There are some who seldom keep an appointment: we can assure them they
as seldom “’scape without whipping,” and exciting those murmurs which
inevitably proceed from the best-regulated stomachs, when they are
empty, and impatient to be filled.

The most amiable animals when hungry become ill-tempered: our best
friends employ the time they are kept waiting, in recollecting and
repeating any real faults we have, and attributing to us a thousand
imaginary ones.

Ill-bred beings, who indulge their own caprice, regardless how they
wound the feelings of others, if they possess brilliant and useful
talents, may occasionally be endured as convenient tools; but deceive
themselves sadly, even though they possess all the wisdom, and all the
wit in the world, if they fancy they can ever be esteemed as friends.

Wait for no one: as soon as the clock strikes, say grace, and begin the
business of the day,

“And good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both.”

MANNERS MAKE THE MAN.

Good manners have often made the fortune of many, who have had nothing
else to recommend them:

Ill manners have as often marred the hope of those who have had every
thing else to advance them.

These regulations may appear a little rigorous to those phlegmatic
philosophers,

“Who, past all pleasures, damn the joys of sense,
With rev’rend dulness and grave impotence,”

and are incapable of comprehending the importance (especially when many
are invited) of a truly hospitable entertainment: but genuine
_connoisseurs_ in the science of good cheer will vote us thanks for our
endeavours to initiate well-disposed _amateurs_.

CARVING.

Ceremony does not, in any thing, more commonly and completely triumph
over comfort, than in the administration of “the honours of the table.”

Those who serve out the loaves and fishes seldom seem to understand that
he is the best carver who fills the plates of the greatest number of
guests, in the least portion of time.

To effect this, fill the plates and send them round, instead of asking
each individual if they choose soup, fish, &c. or what particular part
they prefer; for, as they cannot all be choosers, you will thus escape
making any invidious distinctions.

A dexterous CARVER[43-*] (especially if he be possessed with that
determined enemy to ceremony and sauce, a keen appetite,) will help half
a dozen people in half the time one of your would-be-thought polite
folks wastes in making civil faces, &c. to a single guest.

It would save a great deal of time, &c. if POULTRY, especially large
turkeys and geese, were sent to table ready cut up. (No. 530.*)

FISH that is fried should be previously divided into such portions as
are fit to help at table. (See No. 145.)

A prudent carver will cut fair,[43-+] observe an equitable distribution
of the dainties he is serving out, and regulate his helps, by the
proportion which his dish bears to the number he has to divide it among,
taking into this reckoning the _quantum_ of appetite the several guests
are presumed to possess.

“Study their genius, caprices, _goût_--
They, in return, may haply study you:
Some wish a pinion, some prefer a leg,
Some for a merry-thought, or sidesbone beg,
The wings of fowls, then slices of the round
The trail of woodcock, of codfish the sound.
Let strict impartiality preside,
Nor freak, nor favour, nor affection guide.”

_From the_ BANQUET.

The guest who wishes to ensure a hearty welcome, and frequent invitation
to the board of hospitality, may calculate that the “easier he is
pleased, the oftener he will be invited.” Instead of unblushingly
demanding of the fair hostess that the prime “_tit-bit_” of every dish
be put on your plate, receive (if not with pleasure, or even content)
with the liveliest expressions of thankfulness whatever is presented to
you, and forget not to praise the cook, and the same shall be reckoned
unto you even as the praise of the mistress.

The invalid or the epicure, when he dines out, to save trouble to his
friends, may carry with him a portable MAGAZINE OF TASTE. (See No. 462.)

“If he does not like his fare, he may console himself with the
reflection, that he need not expose his mouth to the like mortification
again: mercy to the feelings of the mistress of the mansion will forbid
his then appearing otherwise than absolutely delighted with it,
notwithstanding it may be his extreme antipathy.”

“If he likes it ever so little, he will find occasion to congratulate
himself on the advantage his digestive organs will derive from his
making a moderate dinner, and consolation from contemplating the double
relish he is creating for the following meal, and anticipating the (to
him) rare and delicious zest of (that best sauce) good appetite, and an
unrestrained indulgence of his gormandizing fancies at the chop-house he
frequents.”

“Never intrust a _cook-teaser_ with the important office of CARVER, or
place him within reach of _a sauce-boat_. These chop-house cormorants,
who

‘Critique your wine, and analyze your meat,
Yet on plain pudding deign at home to eat,’

are, generally, tremendously officious in serving out the loaves and
fishes of other people; for, under the notion of appearing exquisitely
amiable, and killingly agreeable to the guests, they are ever on the
watch to distribute themselves the dainties which it is the peculiar
part of the master and mistress to serve out, and is to them the most
pleasant part of the business of the banquet: the pleasure of helping
their friends is the gratification, which is their reward for the
trouble they have had in preparing the feast. Such gentry are the terror
of all good housewives: to obtain their favourite cut they will so
unmercifully mangle your joints, that a dainty dog would hardly get a
meal from them after; which, managed by the considerative hands of an
old housekeeper, would furnish a decent dinner for a large
family.”--Vide “_Almanach des Gourmands_.”

I once heard a gentle hint on this subject, given to a _blue-mould
fancier_, who by looking too long at a Stilton cheese, was at last
completely overcome, by his eye exciting his appetite, till it became
quite ungovernable; and unconscious of every thing but the _mity_ object
of his contemplation, he began to pick out, in no small portions, the
primest parts his eye could select from the centre of the cheese.

The good-natured founder of the feast, highly amused at the ecstasies
each morsel created in its passage over the palate of the enraptured
_gourmand_, thus encouraged the perseverance of his guest--“Cut away, my
dear sir, cut away, use no ceremony, I pray: I hope you will pick out
all the best of my cheese. _Don’t you think_ that THE RIND _and the_
ROTTEN _will do very well for my wife and family!!_” There is another
set of terribly _free and easy_ folks, who are “fond of taking
possession of the throne of domestic comfort,” and then, with all the
impudence imaginable, simper out to the ousted master of the family,
“Dear me, I am afraid I have taken your place!”

_Half the trouble of_ WAITING AT TABLE _may be saved_ by giving each
guest two plates, two knives and forks, two pieces of bread, a spoon, a
wine-glass, and a tumbler, and placing the wines and sauces, and the
MAGAZINE OF TASTE, (No. 462,) &c. as a _dormant_, in the centre of the
table; one neighbour may then help another.

Dinner-tables are seldom sufficiently lighted, or attended. An active
waiter will have enough to do to attend upon half a dozen active eaters.
There should be about half as many candles as there are guests, and
their flame be about eighteen inches above the table. Our foolish
modern pompous candelabras seem intended to illuminate the ceiling,
rather than to give light on the plates, &c.

Wax lights at dinner are much more elegant, and not so troublesome and
so uncertain as lamps, nor so expensive; for to purchase a handsome lamp
will cost you more than will furnish you with wax candles for several
years.

FOOTNOTES:

[38-*] Swilling cold _soda water_ immediately after eating a hearty
dinner, is another very unwholesome custom--take good ginger beer if you
are thirsty, and don’t like Sir John Barleycorn’s cordial.

[38-+] _Strong peppermint or ginger lozenges_ are an excellent help for
that flatulence with which some aged and dyspeptic people ate afflicted
three or four hours after dinner.

[39-*] _Le Grand Sommelier_, or CHIEF BUTLER, in former times was
expected to be especially accomplished in the art of folding table
linen, so as to lay his napkins in different forms every day: these
transformations are particularly described in ROSE’S Instructions for
the Officers of the Mouth, 1682, p. 111, &c. “To pleat a napkin in the
form of a cockle-shell double”--“in the form of hen and
chickens”--“shape of two capons in a pye”--or “like a dog with a collar
about his neck”--and many others equally whimsical.

[43-*] In days of yore “_Le Grand Ecuyer Tranchant_,” or the MASTER
CARVER, was the next officer of the mouth in rank to the “_Maître
d’Hôtel_,” and the technical terms of his art were as singular as any of
those which ornament “Grose’s Classical Slang Dictionary,” or “The
Gipsies’ Gibberish:” the only one of these old phrases now in common use
is, “cut up the TURKEY:”--we are no longer desired to “disfigure a
PEACOCK”--“unbrace a DUCK”--“unlace a CONEY”--“tame a CRAB”--“tire an
EGG”--and “spoil the HEN,” &c.--See _Instructions for the Officers of
the Mouth_, by ROSE, 1682.

[43-+] Those in the parlour should recollect the importance of setting a
good example to their friends at the second table. If they cut _bread_,
_meat_, _cheese_, &c. FAIRLY, it will go twice as far as if they hack
and mangle it, as if they had not half so much consideration for those
in the kitchen as a good sportsman has for his dogs.

FRIENDLY ADVICE TO COOKS,[46-*] AND OTHER SERVANTS

On your first coming into a family, lose no time in immediately getting
into the good graces of your fellow-servants, that you may learn from
them the customs of the kitchen, and the various rules and orders of the
house.

Take care to be on good terms with the servant who waits at table; make
use of him as your sentinel, to inform you how your work has pleased in
the parlour: by his report you may be enabled in some measure to rectify
any mistake; but request the favour of an early interview with your
master or mistress: depend as little as possible on second-hand
opinions. Judge of your employers from YOUR OWN observations, and THEIR
behaviour to you, not from any idle reports from the other servants,
who, if your master or mistress inadvertently drop a word in your
praise, will immediately take alarm, and fearing your being more in
favour than themselves, will seldom stick at trifles to prevent it, by
pretending to take a prodigious liking to you, and poisoning your mind
in such a manner as to destroy all your confidence, &c. in your
employers; and if they do not immediately succeed in worrying you away,
will take care you have no comfort while you stay: be most cautious of
those who profess most: not only beware of believing such honey-tongued
folks, but beware as much of betraying your suspicions of them, for that
will set fire to the train at once, and of a doubtful friend make a
determined enemy.

If you are a good cook, and strictly do your duty, you will soon become
a favourite domestic; but never boast of the approbation of your
employers; for, in proportion as they think you rise in their
estimation, you will excite all the tricks, that envy, hatred, malice,
and all uncharitableness can suggest to your fellow-servants; every one
of whom, if less sober, honest, or industrious, or less favoured than
yourself, will be your enemy.

While we warn you against making others your enemies, take care that you
do not yourself become your own and greatest enemy. “Favourites are
never in greater danger of falling, than when in the greatest favour,”
which often begets a careless inattention to the commands of their
employers, and insolent overbearance to their equals, a gradual neglect
of duty, and a corresponding forfeiture of that regard which can only be
preserved by the means which created it.

“Those arts by which at first you gain it,
You still must practise to maintain it.”

If your employers are so pleased with your conduct as to treat you as a
friend rather than a servant, do not let their kindness excite your
self-conceit, so as to make you for a moment forget you are one.
Condescension, even to a proverb, produces contempt in inconsiderate
minds; and to such, the very means which benevolence takes to cherish
attention to duty, becomes the cause of the evil it is intended to
prevent.

To be an agreeable companion in the kitchen, without compromising your
duty to your patrons in the parlour, requires no small portion of good
sense and good nature: in a word, you must “do as you would be done by.”

ACT FOR, AND SPEAK OF, EVERY BODY AS IF THEY WERE PRESENT.

We hope the culinary student who peruses these pages will be above
adopting the common, mean, and ever unsuccessful way of “holding with
the hare, and running with the hounds,” of currying favour with
fellow-servants by flattering them, and ridiculing the mistress when in
the kitchen, and then, prancing into the parlour and purring about her,
and making opportunities to display all the little faults you can find
(_or invent_) that will tell well against those in the kitchen; assuring
them, on your return, that they were _vraised_, for whatever you heard
them _blamed_, and so excite them to run more extremely into any little
error which you think will be most displeasing to their employers;
watching an opportunity to pour your poisonous lies into their
unsuspecting ears, when there is no third person to bear witness of your
iniquity; making your victims believe, it is all out of your _sincere
regard_ for them; assuring them (as Betty says in the man of the world,)
“That indeed you are no busybody that loves fending nor proving, but
hate all tittling and tattling, and gossiping and backbiting,” &c. &c.

Depend upon it, if you hear your fellow-servants speak disrespectfully
of a master or a mistress with whom they have lived some time, it is a
sure sign that they have some sinister scheme against yourself; if they
have not been well treated, why have they stayed?

“There is nothing more detestable than defamation. I have no scruple to
rank a slanderer with a murderer or an assassin. Those who assault the
reputation of their benefactors, and ‘rob you of that which nought
enriches them,’ would destroy your life, if they could do it with equal
impunity.”

“If you hope to gain the respect and esteem of others, and the
approbation of your own heart, be respectful and faithful to your
superiors, obliging and good-natured to your fellow-servants, and
charitable to all.” You cannot be too careful to cultivate a meek and
gentle disposition; you will find the benefit of it every day of your
life: to promote peace and harmony around you, will not only render you
a general favourite with your fellow-servants, but will make you happy
in yourself.

“Let your _character_ be remarkable for industry and moderation; your
_manners_ and deportment, for modesty and humility; your _dress_
distinguished for simplicity, frugality, and neatness. A dressy servant
is a disgrace to a house, and renders her employers as ridiculous as she
does herself. If you outshine your companions in finery, you will
inevitably excite their envy, and make them your enemies.”

“Do every thing at the proper time.”
“Keep every thing in its proper place.”
“Use every thing for its proper purpose.”

The importance of these three rules must be evident, to all who will
consider how much easier it is to return any thing when done with to its
proper place, than it is to find it when mislaid; and it is as easy to
put things in one place as in another.

Keep your kitchen and furniture as clean and neat as possible, which
will then be an ornament to it, a comfort to your fellow-servants, and
a credit to yourself. Moreover, good housewifery is the best
recommendation to a good husband, and engages men to honourable
attachment to you; she who is a tidy servant gives promise of being a
careful wife.

_Giving away Victuals._

Giving away any thing without consent or privity of your master or
mistress, is a liberty you must not take; charity and compassion for the
wants of our fellow-creatures are very amiable virtues, but they are not
to be indulged at the expense of your own honesty, and other people’s
property.

When you find that there is any thing to spare, and that it is in danger
of being spoiled by being kept too long, it is very commendable in you
to ask leave to dispose of it while it is fit for Christians to eat: if
such permission is refused, the sin does not lie at your door. But you
must on no account bestow the least morsel in contradiction to the will
of those to whom it belongs.

“Never think any part of your business too trifling to be well done.”

“Eagerly embrace every opportunity of learning any thing which may be
useful to yourself, or of doing any thing which may benefit others.”

Do not throw yourself out of a good place for a slight affront. “Come
when you are called, and do what you are bid.” Place yourself in your
mistress’s situation, and consider what you would expect from her, if
she were in yours; and serve, reverence, and obey her accordingly.

Although there may be “more places than parish-churches,” it is not very
easy to find many more good ones.

“A rolling stone never gathers moss.”
“Honesty is the best policy.”
“A still tongue makes a wise head.”

_Saucy answers_ are highly aggravating, and answer no good purpose.

Let your master or mistress scold ever so much, or be ever so
unreasonable; as “a soft answer turneth away wrath,” “so will SILENCE be
_the best a servant can make_”.

_One rude answer_, extorted perhaps by harsh words, or unmerited
censure, has cost many a servant the loss of a good place, or the total
forfeiture of a regard which had been growing for years.

“If your employers are hasty, and have scolded without reason, bear it
patiently; they will soon see their error, and not be happy till they
make you amends. Muttering on leaving the room, or slamming the door
after you, is as bad as an impertinent reply; it is, in fact, showing
that you would be impertinent if you dared.”

“A faithful servant will not only never speak disrespectfully _to_ her
employers, but will not hear disrespectful words said _of_ them.”

Apply direct to your employers, and beg of them to explain to you, as
fully as possible, how they like their victuals dressed, whether much or
little done.[50-*]

Of what complexion they wish the ROASTS, of a gold colour, or well
browned, and if they like them frothed?

Do they like SOUPS and SAUCES thick or thin, or white or brown, clean or
full in the mouth? What accompaniments they are partial to?

What flavours they fancy? especially of SPICE and HERBS:

“Namque coquus domini debet habere gulam.”--MARTIAL.

It is impossible that the most accomplished cook can please their
palates, till she has learned their particular taste: this, it will
hardly be expected, she can hit exactly the first time; however, the
hints we have here given, and in the 7th and 8th chapters of the
Rudiments of Cookery, will very much facilitate the ascertainment of
this main chance of getting into their favour.

Be extremely cautious of seasoning high: leave it to the eaters to add
the piquante condiments, according to their own palate and fancy: for
this purpose, “THE MAGAZINE OF TASTE,” or “_Sauce-box_,” (No. 462,) will
be found an invaluable acquisition; its contents will instantaneously
produce any flavour that may be desired.

“De gustibus non est disputandum.”

Tastes are as different as faces; and without a most attentive
observation of the directions given by her employers, the most
experienced cook will never be esteemed a profound palatician.

It will not go far to pacify the rage of a ravenous _gourmand_, who
likes his chops broiled brown, (and done enough, so that they can appear
at table decently, and not blush when they are cut,) to be told that
some of the customers at Dolly’s chop-house choose to have them only
half-done, and that this is the best way of eating them.

We all think that is the best way which we relish best, and which agrees
best with our stomach: in this, reason and fashion, all-powerful as they
are on most occasions, yield to the imperative caprice of the palate.

_Chacun à son goût._

“THE IRISHMAN loves _Usquebaugh_, the SCOT loves ale call’d _Blue-cap_,
The WELCHMAN he loves _toasted cheese_, and makes his mouth like a
mouse-trap.”

Our ITALIAN neighbours regale themselves with _macaroni_ and _parmesan_,
and eat some things which we call _carrion_.--Vide RAY’S _Travels_, p.
362 and 406.

While the ENGLISHMAN boasts of his _roast beef, plum pudding, and
porter_,

The FRENCHMAN feeds on his favourite _frog and soupe-maigre_,

The TARTAR feasts on _horse-flesh_,

The CHINAMAN on _dogs_,

The GREENLANDER preys on _garbage_ and _train oil_; and each “blesses
his stars, and thinks it luxury.” What at one time or place is
considered as beautiful, fragrant, and savoury, at another is regarded
as deformed and disgustful.[51-*]

“Ask _a toad_ what is beauty, the supremely beautiful, the ΤΟ ΚΑΛΟΝ!
He will tell you it is _my wife_,--with two large eyes projecting out of
her little head, a broad and flat neck, yellow belly, and dark brown
back. With _a Guinea negro_, it is a greasy black skin, hollow eyes, and
a flat nose. Put the question to the _devil_, and he will tell you that
BEAUTY is a pair of horns, four claws, and a tail.”--VOLTAIRE’S _Philos.
Dict._ 8vo. p. 32.

“_Asafœtida_ was called by the ancients ‘FOOD FOR THE GODS.’ The
Persians, Indians, and other Eastern people, now eat it in sauces, and
call it by that name: the Germans call it _devil’s dung_.”--_Vide_ POMET
_on Drugs_.

Garlic and clove, or allspice, combined in certain proportions, produce
a flavour very similar to asafœtida.

The organ of taste is more rarely found in perfection, and is sooner
spoiled by the operations of time, excessive use, &c. than either of our
other senses.

There are as various degrees of sensibility of palate as there are of
gradations of perfection in the eyes and ears of painters and musicians.
After all the pains which the editor has taken to explain the harmony of
subtle relishes, unless nature has given the organ of taste in a due
degree, this book will, alas! no more make an OSBORNE,[52-*] than it
can a REYNOLDS, or an ARNE, or a SHIELD.

Where nature has been most bountiful of this faculty, its sensibility is
so easily blunted by a variety of unavoidable circumstances, that the
tongue is very seldom in the highest condition for appreciating delicate
flavours, or accurately estimating the relative force of the various
materials the cook employs in the composition of an harmonious relish.
Cooks express this refinement of combination by saying, a well-finished
_ragoût_ “tastes of every thing, and tastes of nothing:” (this is
“_kitchen gibberish_” for a sauce in which the component parts are well
proportioned.)

However delicately sensitive nature may have formed the organs of taste,
it is only during those few happy moments that they are perfectly awake,
and in perfect good humour, (alas! how very seldom they are,) that the
most accomplished and experienced cook has a chance of working with any
degree of certainty without the auxiliary tests of the balance and the
measure: by the help of these, when you are once right, it is your own
fault if you are ever otherwise.

The sense of taste depends much on the health of the individual, and is
hardly ever for a single hour in the same state: such is the extremely
intimate sympathy between the stomach and the tongue, that in proportion
as the former is empty, the latter is acute and sensitive. This is the
cause that “good appetite is the best sauce,” and that the dish we find
savoury at _luncheon_, is insipid at _dinner_, and at _supper_ quite
tasteless.

To taste any thing in perfection, the tongue must be moistened, or the
substance applied to it contain moisture; the nervous papillæ which
constitute this sense are roused to still more lively sensibility by
salt, sugar, aromatics, &c.

If the palate becomes dull by repeated tasting, one of the best ways of
refreshing it, is to masticate an apple, or to wash your mouth well with
milk.

The incessant exercise of tasting, which a cook is obliged to submit to
during the education of her tongue, frequently impairs the very faculty
she is trying to improve. “’Tis true ’tis pity and pity ’tis,” (says a
_grand gourmand_) “’tis true, her too anxious perseverance to penetrate
the mysteries of palatics may diminish the _tact_, exhaust the power,
and destroy the _index_, without which all her labour is in vain.”

Therefore, a sagacious cook, instead of idly and wantonly wasting the
excitability of her palate, on the sensibility of which her reputation
and fortune depends, when she has ascertained the relative strength of
the flavour of the various ingredients she employs, will call in the
balance and the measure to do the ordinary business, and endeavour to
preserve her organ of taste with the utmost care, that it may be a
faithful oracle to refer to on grand occasions, and new
compositions.[53-*] Of these an ingenious cook may form as endless a
variety, as a musician with his seven notes, or a painter with his
colours: read chapters 7 and 8 of the Rudiments of Cookery.

Receive as the highest testimonies of your employers’ regard whatever
observations they may make on your work: such admonitions are the most
_unequivocal proofs_ of their desire to make you thoroughly understand
their taste, and their wish to retain you in their service, or they
would not take the trouble to teach you.

Enter into all their plans of economy,[53-+] and endeavour to make the
most of every thing, as well for your own honour as your master’s
profit, and you will find that whatever care you take for his profit
will be for your own: take care that the meat which is to make its
appearance again in the parlour is handsomely cut with a sharp knife,
and put on a clean dish: take care of the _gravy_ (see No. 326) which is
left, it will save many pounds of meat in making sauce for _hashes_,
_poultry_, and many little dishes.

MANY THINGS MAY BE REDRESSED in a different form from that in which they
were first served, and improve the appearance of the table without
increasing the expense of it.

COLD FISH, soles, cod, whitings, smelts, &c. may be cut into bits, and
put into escallop shells, with cold oyster, lobster, or shrimp sauce,
and bread crumbled, and put into a Dutch oven, and browned like
scalloped oysters. (No. 182.)

The best way TO WARM COLD MEAT is to sprinkle the joint over with a
little salt, and put it in a DUTCH OVEN, at some distance before a
gentle fire, that it may warm gradually; watch it carefully, and keep
turning it till it is quite hot and brown: it will take from twenty
minutes to three quarters of an hour, according to its thickness; serve
it up with gravy: this is much better than hashing it, and by doing it
nicely a cook will get great credit. POULTRY (No. 530*), FRIED FISH (see
No. 145), &c. may be redressed in this way.

Take care of the _liquor_ you have boiled poultry or meat in; in five
minutes you may make it into EXCELLENT SOUP. See _obs._ to Nos. 555 and
229, No. 5, and the 7th chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery.

No good housewife has any pretensions to _rational economy_ who boils
animal food without converting the broth into some sort of soup.

However highly the uninitiated in the mystery of soup-making may elevate
the external appendage of his olfactory organ at the mention of “POT
LIQUOR,” if he tastes No. 5, or 218, 555, &c. he will be as delighted
with it as a Frenchman is with “_potage à la Camarani_,” of which it is
said “a single spoonful will lap the palate in Elysium; and while one
drop of it remains on the tongue, each other sense is eclipsed by the
voluptuous thrilling of the lingual nerves!!”

BROTH OF FRAGMENTS.--When you dress a large dinner, you may make good
broth, or portable soup (No. 252), at very small cost, by taking care of
all the trimmings and parings of the meat, game, and poultry, you are
going to use: wash them well, and put them into a stewpan, with as much
cold water as will cover them; set your stewpan on a hot fire; when it
boils, take off all the scum, and set it on again to simmer gently; put
in two carrots, two turnips, a large onion, three blades of pounded
mace, and a head of celery; some mushroom parings will be a great
addition. Let it continue to simmer gently four or five hours; strain it
through a sieve into a clean basin. This will save a great deal of
expense in buying gravy-meat.

Have the DUST, &c. removed regularly once in a fortnight, and have your
KITCHEN CHIMNEY swept once a month; many good dinners have been spoiled,
and many houses burned down, by the soot falling: the best security
against this, is for the cook to have a long birch-broom, and every
morning brush down all the soot within reach of it. Give notice to your
employers when the contents of your COAL-CELLAR are diminished to a
chaldron.

It will be to little purpose to procure good provisions, unless you have
proper utensils[55-*] to prepare them in: the most expert artist cannot
perform his work in a perfect manner without proper instruments; you
cannot have neat work without nice tools, nor can you dress victuals
well without an apparatus appropriate to the work required. See 1st page
of chapter 7 of the Rudiments of Cookery.

In those houses where the cook enjoys the confidence of her employer so
much as to be intrusted with the care of the store-room, which is not
very common, she will keep an exact account of every thing as it comes
in, and insist upon the weight and price being fixed to every article
she purchases, and occasionally will (and it may not be amiss to
jocosely drop a hint to those who supply them that she does) _reweigh_
them, for her own satisfaction, as well as that of her employer, and
will not trust the key of this room to any one; she will also keep an
account of every thing she takes from it, and manage with as much
consideration and frugality as if it was her own property she was using,
endeavouring to disprove the adage, that “PLENTY makes _waste_,” and
remembering that “wilful waste makes woful want.”

The honesty of a cook must be above all suspicion: she must obtain, and
(in spite of the numberless temptations, &c. that daily offer to bend
her from it) preserve a character of spotless integrity and useful
industry,[55-+] remembering that it is the fair price of INDEPENDENCE,
which all wish for, but none without it can hope for; only a fool or a
madman will be so silly or so crazy as to expect to reap where he has
been too idle to sow.

Very few modern-built town-houses have a proper place to preserve
provisions in. The best substitute is a HANGING SAFE, which you may
contrive to suspend in an airy situation; and when you order meat,
poultry, or fish, tell the tradesman when you intend to dress it: he
will then have it in his power to serve you with provision that will do
him credit, which the finest meat, &c. in the world will never do,
unless it has been kept a proper time to be ripe and tender.

If you have a well-ventilated larder in a shady, dry situation, you may
make still surer, by ordering in your meat and poultry such a time
before you want it as will render it tender, which the finest meat
cannot be, unless hung a proper time (see 2d chapter of the Rudiments of
Cookery), according to the season, and nature of the meat, &c.; but
always, as “_les bons hommes de bouche de France_” say, till _it is_
“_assez mortifiée_.”

Permitting this process to proceed to a certain degree renders meat much
more easy of solution in the stomach, and for those whose digestive
faculties are delicate, it is of the utmost importance that it be
attended to with the greatest nicety, for the most consummate skill in
the culinary preparation of it will not compensate for the want of
attention to this. (Read _obs._ to No. 68.) Meat that is _thoroughly
roasted_, or _boiled_, eats much shorter and tenderer, and is in
proportion more digestible, than that which is _under_-done.

You will be enabled to manage much better if your employers will make
out a BILL OF FARE FOR THE WEEK on the Saturday before: for example, for
a family of half a dozen--

_Sunday_ Roast beef (No. 19), and my pudding (No. 554).

_Monday_ Fowl (Nos. 16. 58), what was left of my pudding fried, and
warmed in the Dutch oven.

_Tuesday_ Calf’s head (No. 10), apple-pie.

_Wednesday_ Leg of mutton (No. 1), or (No. 23).

_Thursday_ Do. broiled or hashed (No. 487), or (No. 484,) pancakes.

_Friday_ Fish (No. 145), pudding (No. 554).

_Saturday_ Fish, or eggs and bacon (No. 545).

It is an excellent plan to have certain things on certain days. When
your butcher or poulterer knows what you will want, he has a better
chance of doing his best for you; and never think of ordering BEEF FOR
ROASTING except for Sunday.

When the weather or season[56-*] is very unfavourable for keeping meat,
&c. give him the choice of sending that which is in the best order for
dressing; _i. e._ either ribs or sirloin of beef, or leg, loin, or neck
of mutton, &c.

Meat in which you can detect the slightest trace of putrescency, has
reached its highest degree of tenderness, and should be dressed without
delay; but before this period, which in some kinds of meat is offensive,
the due degree of inteneration may be ascertained, by its yielding
readily to the pressure of the finger, and by its opposing little
resistance to an attempt to bind the joint.

Although we strongly recommend that animal food should be hung up in the
open air, till its fibres have lost some degree of their toughness; yet,
let us be clearly understood also to warn you, that if kept till it
loses its natural sweetness, it is as detrimental to health, as it is
disagreeable to the smell and taste.

IN VERY COLD WEATHER, bring your meat, poultry, &c. into the kitchen,
early in the morning, if you roast, boil, or stew it ever so gently and
ever so long; if it be _frozen_, it will continue tough and unchewable.

Without very watchful attention to this, the most skilful cook in the
world will get no credit, be she ever so careful in the management of
her spit or her stewpan.

The time meat should hang to be tender, depends on the heat and humidity
of the air. If it is not kept long enough, it is hard and tough; if too
long, it loses its flavour. It should be hung where it will have a
thorough air, and be dried with a cloth, night and morning, to keep it
from damp and mustiness.

Before you dress it, wash it well; if it is roasting beef, _pare off the
outside_.

If you fear meat,[57-*] &c. will not keep till the time it is wanted,
_par_-roast or _par_-boil it; it will then keep a couple of days longer,
when it may be dressed in the usual way, only it will be done in rather
less time.

“In Germany, the method of keeping flesh in summer is to steep it in
Rhenish wine with a little sea-salt; by which means it may be preserved
a whole season.”--BOERHAAVE’S Academical Lectures, translated by J.
Nathan, 8vo. 1763, p. 241.

The cook and the butcher as often lose their credit by meat being
dressed too fresh, as the fishmonger does by fish that has been kept too
long.

Dr. Franklin in his philosophical experiments tells us, that if game or
poultry be killed by ELECTRICITY it will become tender in the twinkling
of an eye, and if it be dressed immediately, will be delicately tender.

During the _sultry_ SUMMER MONTHS, it is almost impossible to procure
meat that is not either tough, or tainted. The former is as improper as
the latter for the unbraced stomachs of relaxed valetudinarians, for
whom, at this season, poultry, stews, &c., and vegetable soups, are the
most suitable food, when the digestive organs are debilitated by the
extreme heat, and profuse perspiration requires an increase of liquid to
restore equilibrium in the constitution.

I have taken much more pains than any of my predecessors, to teach the
young cook how to perform, in the best manner, the common business of
her profession. Being well grounded in the RUDIMENTS of COOKERY, she
will be able to execute the orders that are given her, with ease to
herself, and satisfaction to her employers, and send up a delicious
dinner, with half the usual expense and trouble.

I have endeavoured to lessen the labour of those who wish to be
thoroughly acquainted with their profession; and an attentive perusal of
the following pages will save them much of the irksome drudgery
attending an apprenticeship at the stove: an ordeal so severe, that few
pass it without irreparable injury to their health;[58-*] and many lose
their lives before they learn their business.

To encourage the best performance of the machinery of mastication, the
cook must take care that her dinner is not only well cooked, but that
each dish be sent to table with its proper accompaniments, in the
neatest and most elegant manner.

Remember, to excite the good opinion of the _eye_ is the first step
towards awakening the _appetite_.

Decoration is much more rationally employed in rendering a wholesome,
nutritious dish inviting, than in the elaborate embellishments which are
crowded about trifles and custards.

Endeavour to avoid _over_-dressing roasts and boils, &c. and
_over_-seasoning soups and sauces with salt, pepper, &c.; it is a fault
which cannot be mended.

If your roasts, &c. are a little _under_-done, with the assistance of
the stewpan, the gridiron, or the Dutch oven, you may soon rectify the
mistake made with the spit or the pot.

If _over_-done, the best juices of the meat are evaporated; it will
serve merely to distend the stomach, and if the sensation of hunger be
removed, it is at the price of an indigestion.

The chief business of cookery is to render food easy of digestion, and
to facilitate nutrition. This is most completely accomplished by plain
cookery in perfection; i. e. neither _over_ nor _under_-done.

With all your care, you will not get much credit by cooking to
perfection, if more than _one dish goes to table at a time_.

To be eaten in perfection, the interval between meat being taken out of
the stewpan and its being put into the mouth, must be as short as
possible; but ceremony, that most formidable enemy to good cheer, too
often decrees it otherwise, and the guests seldom get a bit of an
“_entremets_” till it is half cold. (See No. 485.)

So much time is often lost in placing every thing in apple-pie order,
that long before dinner is announced, all becomes lukewarm; and to
complete the mortification of the _grand gourmand_, his meat is put on a
sheet of ice in the shape of a plate, which instantly converts the gravy
into jelly, and the fat into a something which puzzles his teeth and the
roof of his mouth as much as if he had birdlime to masticate. A complete
_meat-screen_ will answer the purpose of a _hot closet_, _plate-warmer_,
&c.--See Index.

It will save you infinite trouble and anxiety, if you can prevail on
your employers to use the “SAUCE-BOX,” No. 462, hereinafter described in
the chapter of Sauces. With the help of this “MAGAZINE OF TASTE,” every
one in company may flavour their soup and sauce, and adjust the
vibrations of their palate, exactly to their own fancy; but if the cook
give a decidedly predominant and _piquante goût_ to a dish, to tickle
the tongues of two or three visiters, whose taste she knows, she may
thereby make the dinner disgusting to all the other guests.

Never undertake more work than you are quite certain you can do well. If
you are ordered to prepare a larger dinner than you think you can send
up with ease and neatness, or to dress any dish that you are not
acquainted with, rather than run any risk in spoiling any thing (by one
fault you may perhaps lose all your credit), request your employers to
let you have some help. They may acquit you for pleading guilty of
inability; but if you make an attempt, and fail, will vote it a capital
offence.

If your mistress professes to understand cookery, your best way will be
to follow her directions. If you wish to please her, let her have the
praise of all that is right, and cheerfully bear the blame of any thing
that is wrong; only advise that all NEW DISHES may be first tried when
the family dine alone. When there is company, never attempt to dress any
thing which you have not ascertained that you can do perfectly well.

Do not trust any part of your work to others without carefully
overlooking them: whatever faults they commit, you will be censured for.
If you have forgotten any article which is indispensable for the day’s
dinner, request your employers to send one of the other servants for it.
The cook must never quit her post till her work is entirely finished.

It requires the utmost skill and contrivance to have all things done as
they should be, and all done together, at that critical moment when the
dinner-bell sounds “to the banquet.”

“A feast must be without a fault;
And if ’t is not all right, ’t is naught.”

But

“Good nature will some failings overlook,
Forgive mischance, not errors of the cook;
As, if no salt is thrown about the dish,
Or nice crisp’d parsley scatter’d on the fish,
Shall we in passion from our dinner fly,
And hopes of pardon to the cook deny,
For things which Mrs. GLASSE herself might oversee,
And all mankind commit as well as she?”

Vide KING’S _Art of Cookery_.

Such is the endless variety of culinary preparations, that it would be
as vain and fruitless a search as that for the philosopher’s stone, to
expect to find a cook who is quite perfect in all the operations of the
spit, the stewpan, and the rolling-pin: you will as soon find a
watchmaker who can make, put together, and regulate every part of a
watch.

“The universe cannot produce a cook who knows how to do every branch of
cookery well, be his genius as great as possible.”--Vide the _Cook’s
Cookery_, 8vo. page 40.

THE BEST RULE FOR MARKETING is to _pay_ READY MONEY for every thing, and
to deal with the most respectable tradesmen in your neighbourhood.

If you leave it to their integrity to supply you with a good article, at
the fair market price, you will be supplied with better provisions, and
at as reasonable a rate as those bargain-hunters, who trot “around,
around, around about” a market, till they are trapped to buy some
_unchewable_ old poultry, _tough_ tup-mutton, _stringy_ cow beef, or
_stale_ fish, at a very little less than the price of prime and proper
food. With _savings_ like these they toddle home in triumph, cackling
all the way, like a goose that has got ankle-deep into good luck.

All the skill of the most accomplished cook will avail nothing, unless
she is furnished with PRIME PROVISIONS. The best way to procure these is
to deal with shops of established character: you may appear to pay,
perhaps, ten _per cent._ more than you would, were you to deal with
those who pretend to sell cheap, but you would be much more than in that
proportion better served.

Every trade has its tricks and deceptions: those who follow them can
deceive you if they please; and they are too apt to do so, if you
provoke the exercise of their over-reaching talent.[61-*]

Challenge them to a game at “_Catch who can_,” by entirely relying on
your own judgment; and you will soon find that nothing but very long
experience can make you equal to the combat of marketing to the utmost
advantage.

Before you go to market, look over your larder, and consider well what
things are wanting, especially on a Saturday. No well-regulated family
can suffer a disorderly caterer to be jumping in and out to the
chandler’s shop on a Sunday morning.

Give your directions to your assistants, and begin your business early
in the morning, or it will be impossible to have the dinner ready at the
time it is ordered.

To be half an hour after the time is such a frequent fault, that there
is the more merit in being ready at the appointed hour. This is a
difficult task, and in the best-regulated family you can only be sure of
your time by proper arrangements.

With all our love of punctuality, we must not forget that the first
consideration must still be, that the dinner “be well done when ’t is
done.”

If any accident occurs to any part of the dinner, or if you are likely
to be prevented sending the soup, &c. to the table at the moment it is
expected, send up a message to your employers, stating the circumstance,
and bespeak their patience for as many minutes as you think it will take
to be ready. This is better than either keeping the company waiting
without an apology, or dishing your dinner before it is done enough, or
sending any thing to table which is disgusting to the stomachs of the
guests at the first appearance of it.

Those who desire regularity in the service of their table, should have a
DIAL, of about twelve inches diameter, placed over the kitchen
fireplace, carefully regulated to keep time exactly with the clock in
the hall or dining-parlour; with a frame on one side, containing A TASTE
TABLE of the peculiarities of the master’s palate, and the particular
rules and orders of his kitchen; and, on the other side, of the REWARDS
given to those who attend to them, and for long and faithful service.

In small families, where a dinner is seldom given, a great deal of
preparation is required, and the preceding day must be devoted to the
business of the kitchen.

On these occasions a _char-woman_ is often employed to do the dirty
work. Ignorant persons often hinder you more than they help you. We
advise a cook to be hired to assist to dress the dinner: this would be
very little more expense, and the work got through with much more
comfort in the kitchen and credit to the parlour.

When you have a very large entertainment to prepare, get your soups and
sauces, forcemeats, &c. ready the day before, and read the 7th chapter
of our _Rudiments of Cookery_. Many made dishes may also be prepared the
day before they are to go to table; but do not dress them _quite enough_
the first day, that they may not be _over_-done by warming up again.

Prepare every thing you can the day before the dinner, and order every
thing else to be sent in early in the morning; if the tradesmen forget
it, it will allow you time to send for it.

The pastry, jellies, &c. you may prepare while the broths are doing:
then truss your game and poultry, and shape your collops, cutlets, &c.,
and trim them neatly; cut away all flaps and gristles, &c. Nothing
should appear on table but what has indisputable pretensions to be
eaten!

Put your made dishes in plates, and arrange them upon the dresser in
regular order. Next, see that your roasts and boils are all nicely
trimmed, trussed, &c. and quite ready for the spit or the pot.

Have your vegetables neatly cut, pared, picked, and clean washed in the
colander: provide a tin dish, with partitions, to hold your fine herbs:
onions and shallots, parsley, thyme, tarragon, chervil, and burnet,
minced _very fine_; and lemon-peel grated, or cut thin, and chopped very
small: pepper and salt ready mixed, and your spice-box and salt-cellar
always ready for action: that every thing you may want may be at hand
for your stove-work, and not be scampering about the kitchen in a
whirlpool of confusion, hunting after these trifles while the dinner is
waiting.

In one drawer under your SPICE-BOX keep ready ground, in well-stopped
bottles, the several spices separate; and also that mixture of them
which is called “_ragoût powder_” (No. 457 or No. 460): in another, keep
your dried and powdered sweet, savoury, and soup herbs, &c. and a set of
weights and scales: you may have a third drawer, containing flavouring
essences, &c. an invaluable auxiliary in finishing soups and sauces.
(See the account of the “MAGAZINE OF TASTE,” or “SAUCE-BOX,” No. 462.)

Have also ready some THICKENING, made of the best white flour sifted,
mixed with soft water with a wooden spoon till it is the consistence of
thick batter, a bottle of plain BROWNING (No. 322), some strained
lemon-juice, and some good glaze, or PORTABLE soup (No. 252).

“Nothing can be done in perfection which must be done in a hurry:”[63-*]
therefore, if you wish the dinner to be sent up to please your master
and mistress, and do credit to yourself, be punctual; take care that as
soon as the _clock strikes_, the _dinner-bell rings_: this shows the
establishment to be orderly, is extremely gratifying to the master and
his guests, and is most praiseworthy in the attendants.

But remember, you cannot obtain this desirable reputation without good
management in every respect. If you wish to ensure ease and independence
in the latter part of your life, you must not be unwilling to pay the
price for which only they can be obtained, and earn them by a diligent
and faithful[64-*] performance of the duties of your station in your
young days, which, if you steadily persevere in, you may depend upon
ultimately receiving the reward your services deserve.

All duties are reciprocal: and if you hope to receive favour, endeavour
to deserve it by showing yourself fond of obliging, and grateful when
obliged; such behaviour will win regard, and maintain it: enforce what
is right, and excuse what is wrong.

Quiet, steady perseverance is the only spring which you can safely
depend upon for infallibly promoting your progress on the road to
independence.

If your employers do not immediately appear to be sensible of your
endeavours to contribute your utmost to their comfort and interest, be
not easily discouraged. _Persevere_, and do all in your power to MAKE
YOURSELF USEFUL.

Endeavour to promote the comfort of every individual in the family; let
it be manifest that you are desirous to do rather more than is required
of you, than less than your duty: they merit little who perform merely
what would be exacted. If you are desired to help in any business which
may not strictly belong to your department, undertake it cheerfully,
patiently, and conscientiously.

The foregoing advice has been written with an honest desire to augment
the comfort of those in the kitchen, who will soon find that the
ever-cheering reflection of having done their duty to the utmost of
their ability, is in itself, with a Christian spirit, a never-failing
source of comfort in all circumstances and situations, and that

“VIRTUE IS ITS OWN REWARD.”

FOOTNOTES:

[46-*] A chapter of advice to cooks will, we hope, be found as useful as
it is original: all we have on this subject in the works of our
predecessors, is the following; “I shall strongly recommend to all cooks
of either sex, to keep their stomachs free from strong liquors till
_after_ dinner, and their noses from snuff.”--_Vide_ CLERMONT’S
_Professed Cook_, p. 30, 8vo. London, 1776.

[50-*] Meat that is not to be cut till it is _cold_, must be thoroughly
done, especially in summer.

[51-*] See chapter XV. “_Chaque Pays_, chaque _Coutume_.”--_Cours
Gastronomique_, 8vo. 1809, p. 162.

[52-*] Cook to Sir JOSEPH BANKS, Bart., late president of the Royal
Society.

[53-*] “The diversities of taste are so many and so considerable, that
it seemeth strange to see the matter treated of both by philosophers and
physicians with so much scantiness and defect: for the subject is not
barren, but yieldeth much and pleasant variety, and doth also appear to
be of great importance.”--From Dr. GREW’S _Anat. of Plants_, fol. 1682,
p. 286. The Dr. enumerates sixteen simple tastes: however, it is
difficult to define more than six.--1st. _Bitter_ as wormwood. 2d.
_Sweet_ as sugar. 3d. _Sour_ as vinegar. 4th. _Salt_ as brine. 5th.
_Cold_ as ice. 6th. _Hot_ as brandy. “_Compound tastes_, innumerable,
may be formed by the combination of these simple tastes--as words are of
letters.”--See also _Phil. Trans._ vol. xv. p. 1025.

[53-+] “I am persuaded that no servant ever saved her master sixpence,
but she found it in the end in her pocket.”--TRUSLER’S _Domestic
Management_, p. 11.

[55-*] “A surgeon may as well attempt to make an incision with a pair of
shears, or open a vein with an oyster-knife, as a cook pretend to dress
a dinner without proper tools.”--VERRALL’S _Cookery_, 8vo. 1759, p. 6.

[55-+] Many COOKS miss excellent opportunities of making themselves
independent, by their idleness, in refusing any place, however
profitable, &c. if there is not a _kitchen maid_ kept to wait upon them.

There are many invalids who require a good cook, and as (after reading
this book they will understand how much) their comfort and effective
existence depends on their food being properly prepared, will willingly
pay handsome wages, (who would not rather pay the cook than the doctor?)
but have so little work in the kitchen that one person may do it all
with the utmost ease, without injury to her health; which is not the
case in a large family, where the poor cook is roasting and stewing all
day, and is often deprived of her rest at night. No artists have greater
need to “_make hay while the sun shines_,” and timely provide for the
infirmities of age. Who will hire a superannuated servant? If she has
saved nothing to support herself, she must crawl to the workhouse.

It is melancholy to find, that, according to the authority of a certain
great French author, “cooks, half stewed and half roasted, when unable
to work any longer, generally retire to some unknown corner, and die in
forlornness and want.”--BLACKWOOD’S _Edin. Mag._ vol. vii. p. 668.

[56-*] “The season of the year has considerable influence on the quality
of butcher-meat; depending upon the more or less plentiful supply of
food, upon the periodical change which takes place in the body of the
animal, and upon temperature. The flesh of most full-grown quadrupeds is
in highest season during the first months of winter, after having
enjoyed the advantage of the abundance of fresh summer food. Its flavour
then begins to be injured by the turnips, &c. given as winter food; and
in spring, it gets lean from deficiency of food. Although beef and
mutton are never absolutely out of season, or not fit for the table,
they are best in November, December, and January. Pork is absolutely
bad, except during the winter.”--_Supplement to the Edin. Ency. Brit._
p. 328.

[57-*] “LARDERS, PANTRIES, and SAFES must be sheltered from the sun, and
otherwise removed from the heat; be dry, and, if possible, have a
current of dry, cool air continually passing through them.

“The freezing temperature, i. e. _32 degrees of Fahrenheit_, is a
perfect preservative from putrefaction: warm, moist, muggy weather is
the worst for keeping meat. The south wind is especially unfavourable,
and lightning is quickly destructive; but the greatest enemy you have to
encounter is the flesh-fly, which becomes troublesome about the month of
May, and continues so till towards Michaelmas.”--For further _Obs._ on
this subject see “_The Experienced Butcher_,” page 160.

[58-*] “Buy it with health, strength, and resolution,
And pay for it, a robust constitution.”

_Preface to the Cook’s Cookery_, 1758.

See the preface to “_The Cook’s Cookery_,” p. 9. This work, which is
very scarce, was, we believe, written to develope the mistakes in what
he calls “The Thousand Errors,” i. e. “_The Lady’s Cookery_,” i. e. Mrs.
Glasse’s, i. e. Sir John Hill’s.

[61-*] “He who will not be cheated _a little_, must be content to be
abused _a great deal_: the first lesson in the art of _comfortable
economy_, is to learn to submit cheerfully to be imposed upon in due
proportion to your situation and circumstances: if you do not, you will
continually be in hot water.

“If you think a tradesman has imposed upon you, never use a second word,
if the first will not do, nor drop the least hint of an imposition. The
only method to induce him to make an abatement is the hope of future
favours. Pay the demand, and deal with the gentleman no more: but do not
let him see that you are displeased, or, as soon as you are out of
sight, your reputation will suffer as much as your pocket
has.”--TRUSLER’S _Way to be Rich_, 8vo. 1776, p. 85.

[63-*] Says TOM THRIFTY, “_except catching of fleas_.” See T. T.’s
_Essay on Early Rising_.

[64-*] N.B. “If you will take half the pains to deserve the regard of
your master and mistress by being _a good and faithful servant_, you
take to be considered _a good fellow-servant_, so many of you would not,
in the decline of life, be left destitute of those comforts which age
requires, nor have occasion to quote the saying that ‘Service is no
inheritance,’ unless your own misconduct makes it so.

“The idea of being called a tell-tale has occasioned many good servants
to shut their eyes against the frauds of fellow-servants.

“In the eye of the law, persons standing by and seeing a felony
committed, which they could have prevented, are held equally guilty with
those committing it.”--Dr. TRUSLER’S _Domestic Management_, p. 12, and
_Instructions to Servants_.

TABLE OF WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.

To reduce our culinary operations to as exact a certainty as the nature
of the processes would admit of, we have, wherever it was needful, given
the quantities of each article.

The weights are _avoirdupois_.

The measure, the graduated glass of the apothecaries. This appeared the
most accurate and convenient; _the pint_ being divided into sixteen
ounces, _the ounce_ into eight drachms. A middling-sized _tea-spoon_
will contain about a drachm; four such tea-spoons are equal to a
middling-sized _table-spoon_, or half an ounce; four table-spoons to a
common-sized _wine-glass_.

The specific gravities of the various substances being so extremely
different, we cannot offer any auxiliary standards[65-*] for the
weights, which we earnestly recommend the cook to employ, if she wishes
to gain credit for accuracy and uniformity in her business: these she
will find it necessary to have as small as the quarter of a drachm
avoirdupois, which is equal to nearly seven grains troy.

Glass measures (divided into tea and table-spoons), containing from half
an ounce to half a pint, may be procured; also, the double-headed pepper
and spice boxes, with caps over the gratings. The superiority of these,
by preserving the contents from the action of the air, must be
sufficiently obvious to every one: the fine aromatic flavour of pepper
is soon lost, from the bottles it is usually kept in not being well
stopped. Peppers are seldom ground or pounded sufficiently fine. (See
N.B. to 369.)

N.B. The trough nutmeg-graters are by far the best we have seen,
especially for those who wish to grate fine, and fast.

FOOTNOTES:

[65-*] A large table-spoonful of flour weighs about half an ounce.

RUDIMENTS OF COOKERY.

CHAPTER I.

BOILING.[66-*]

This most simple of culinary processes is not often performed in
perfection. It does not require quite so much nicety and attendance as
roasting; to skim your pot well, and keep it really boiling (the slower
the better) all the while, to know how long is required for doing the
joint, &c., and to take it up at the critical moment when it is done
enough, comprehends almost the whole art and mystery. This, however,
demands a patient and perpetual vigilance, of which few persons are
capable.

The cook must take especial care that the water really boils all the
while she is cooking, or she will be deceived in the time; and make up a
sufficient fire (a frugal cook will manage with much less fire for
boiling than she uses for roasting) at first, to last all the time,
without much mending or stirring.

When the pot is coming to a boil there will always, from the cleanest
meat and clearest water, rise a _scum_ to the top of it, proceeding
partly from the water; this must be carefully taken off as soon as it
rises.

On this depends the good appearance of all boiled things.

When you have skimmed well, put in some cold water, which will throw up
the rest of the scum.

The oftener it is skimmed, and the cleaner the top of the water is kept,
the sweeter and the cleaner will be the meat.

If let alone, it soon boils down and sticks to the meat,[67-*] which,
instead of looking delicately white and nice, will have that coarse and
filthy appearance we have too often to complain of, and the butcher and
poulterer be blamed for the carelessness of the cook in not skimming her
pot.

Many put in _milk_, to make what they boil look white; but this does
more harm than good: others wrap it up in a cloth; but these are
needless precautions: if the scum be attentively removed, meat will have
a much more delicate colour and finer flavour than it has when muffled
up. This may give rather more trouble, but those who wish to excel in
their art must only consider how the processes of it can be most
perfectly performed: a cook, who has a proper pride and pleasure in her
business, will make this her maxim on all occasions.

It is desirable that meat for boiling be of an equal thickness, or
before thicker parts are done enough the thinner will be done too much.

Put your meat into _cold_[67-+] water, in the proportion of about a
quart of water to a pound of meat: it should be covered with water
during the whole of the process of boiling, but not drowned in it; the
less water, provided the meat be covered with it, the more savoury will
be the meat, and the better will be the broth.

The water should be heated gradually, according to the thickness, &c. of
the article boiled. For instance, a leg of mutton of 10 pounds weight
(No. 1,) should be placed over a moderate fire, which will gradually
make the water hot, without causing it to boil for about forty minutes;
if the water boils much sooner, the meat will be hardened, and shrink up
as if it was scorched: by keeping the water a certain time heating
without boiling, the fibres of the meat are dilated, and it yields a
quantity of scum, which must be taken off as soon as it rises.

“104. If a vessel containing water be placed over a steady fire, the
water will grow continually hotter till it reaches the limit of boiling,
after which the regular accessions of heat are wholly spent in
converting it into steam.

“Water remains at the same pitch of temperature, however fiercely it
boils. The only difference is, that with a strong fire it sooner comes
to boil, and more quickly boils away, and is converted into
steam.”--BUCHANAN _on the Economy of Fuel_, 1810.

The editor placed a thermometer in water in that state which cooks call
gentle simmering; the heat was 212°, i. e. the same degree as the
strongest boiling.

Two mutton chops were covered with cold water, and one boiled a gallop,
and the other simmered very gently for three quarters of an hour: the
chop which was slowly simmered was decidedly superior to that which was
boiled; it was much tenderer, more juicy, and much higher flavoured. The
liquor which boiled fast was in like proportion more savoury, and when
cold had much more fat on its surface. This explains why quick boiling
renders meat hard, &c., because its juices are extracted in a greater
degree.

Reckon the time from its first coming to a boil.

The old rule of 15 minutes to a pound of meat, we think rather too
little: the slower it boils, the tenderer, the plumper, and whiter it
will be.

For those who choose their food thoroughly cooked (which all will who
have any regard for their stomachs), twenty minutes to a pound for
fresh, and rather more for salted meat, will not be found too much for
gentle simmering by the side of the fire, allowing more or less time,
according to the thickness of the joint, and the coldness of the
weather: to know the state of which, let a thermometer be placed in the
pantry; and when it falls below 40°, tell your cook to give rather more
time in both roasting and boiling, always remembering, the slower it
boils the better.

Without some practice it is difficult to teach any art; and cooks seem
to suppose they must be right, if they put meat into a pot, and set it
over the fire for a certain time, making no allowance whether it simmers
without a bubble or boils a gallop.

Fresh-killed meat will take much longer time boiling than that which has
been kept till it is what the butchers call _ripe_, and longer in _cold_
than in _warm_ weather: if it be _frozen_, it must be thawed before
boiling as before roasting; if it be fresh-killed, it will be tough and
hard, if you stew it ever so long, and ever so gently. In cold weather,
the night before the day you dress it, bring it into a place of which
the temperature is not less than 45 degrees of Fahrenheit’s thermometer.

The size of the boiling-pots should be adapted to what they are to
contain: the larger the saucepan the more room it takes upon the fire,
and a larger quantity of water requires a proportionate increase of fire
to boil it.

A little pot
Is soon hot.

In small families we recommend block tin saucepans, &c. as lightest and
safest. If proper care is taken of them, and they are well dried after
they are cleaned, they are by far the cheapest; the purchase of a new
tin saucepan being little more than the expense of tinning a copper one.

Let the covers of your boiling-pots fit close, not only to prevent
unnecessary evaporation of the water, but to prevent the escape of the
nutritive matter, which must then remain either in the meat or in the
broth; and the smoke is prevented from insinuating itself under the edge
of the lid, and so giving the meat a bad taste. See observations on
Saucepans, in chapter 7.

If you let meat or poultry remain in the water after it is done enough,
it will become sodden, and lose its flavour.

Beef and mutton a little _under_-done (especially very large joints,
which will make the better hash or broil,) is not a great fault; by some
people it is preferred: but lamb, pork, and veal are uneatable if not
thoroughly boiled; but do not _over_-do them.

A trivet or fish-drainer put on the bottom of the boiling-pot, raising
the contents about an inch and a half from the bottom, will prevent that
side of the meat which comes next the bottom from being done too much,
and the lower part of the meat will be as delicately done as the other
part; and this will enable you to take out the contents of the pot,
without sticking a fork, &c. into it. If you have not a trivet, use four
skewers, or a soup-plate laid the wrong side upwards.

Take care of the liquor you have boiled poultry or meat in; in five
minutes you may make it into excellent soup. (See obs. to No. 555 and
No. 229.)

The good housewife never boils a joint without converting the broth into
some sort of soup (read No. 5, and chapter 7). If the liquor be too
salt, only use half the quantity, and the rest water. Wash salted meat
well with cold water before you put it into the boiler.

_An estimation of the_ LOSS OF WEIGHT _which takes place in cooking
animal food._--_From_ Mr. TILLOCH’S _Philosophical Magazine._

“It is well known, that in whatever way the flesh of animals is prepared
for food, a considerable diminution takes place in its weight. We do not
recollect, however, to have any where seen a statement of the loss which
meat sustains in the various culinary processes, although it is pretty
obvious that a series of experiments on the subject would not be without
their use in domestic economy.

“We shall here give the result of a series of experiments which were
actually made on this subject in a public establishment; premising that,
as they were not undertaken from mere curiosity, but, on the contrary,
to serve a purpose of practical utility, absolute accuracy was not
attended to. Considering, however, the large quantities of provisions
which were actually examined, it is presumed that the results may be
safely depended upon for any practical purpose. It would, no doubt, have
been desirable to have known not only the whole diminution of weight,
but also the parts which were separated from the meat in the form of
aqueous vapour, jelly, fat, &c.; but the determination of these did not
fall within the scope of the inquiry.

_lbs._ _oz._
28 pieces of beef, weighing 280 0
Lost in boiling 73 14

“Hence, the weight lost by beef in boiling was in this case about
26-1/2lbs. in 100lbs.

_lbs._ _oz._
19 pieces of beef, weighing 190 0
Lost in roasting 61 2

“The weight lost by beef in roasting appears to be 32 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._
9 pieces of beef, weighing 90 0
Lost in baking 27 0

“Weight lost by beef in baking 30 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._
27 legs of mutton, weighing 260 0
Lost in boiling, and by having
the shank-bone taken off 62 4

“The shank-bones were estimated at 4 ounces each; therefore the loss by
boiling was 55lbs. 8oz.

“The loss of weight in legs of mutton in boiling is 21-1/3 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._
35 shoulders of mutton, weighing 350 0
Lost in roasting 109 10

“The loss of weight in shoulders of mutton by roasting, is about 31-1/3
per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._
16 loins of mutton, weighing 141 0
Lost in roasting 49 14

“Hence, loins of mutton lose by roasting about 35-1/2 per cent.

_lbs._ _oz._
10 necks of mutton, weighing 100 0
Lost in roasting 32 6

“The loss in necks of mutton by roasting is about 32-1/3 per cent.

“We shall only draw two practical inferences from the foregoing
statement.--1st, In respect of economy, it is more profitable to boil
meat than to roast it. 2dly, Whether we roast or boil meat, it loses by
being cooked from one-fifth to one-third of its whole weight.”

The loss of roasting arises from the melting out of the fat, and
evaporating the water; but the nutritious matters remain condensed in
the cooked solid.

In boiling, the loss arises partly from the fat melted out, but chiefly
from _gelatine_ and _osmazome_ being extracted and dissolved by the
water in which the meat is boiled; there is, therefore, a real loss of
nourishment, unless the broth be used; when this mode of cooking becomes
the most economical.[71-*]

_The sauces usually sent to table with boiled meat, &c._

These are to be sent up in boats, and never poured over the meat, &c.

Gravy for boiled meat (No. 327.)
Parsley and butter (No. 261.)
Chervil (No. 264.)
Caper (No. 274.)
Oyster (No. 278.)
Liver and parsley (No. 287.)
Celery (No. 289.)
Onion (No. 296, &c.)
Shallot (No. 295.)
Wow wow (No. 328.)
Curry (No. 348.)

BAKING.

The following observations were written expressly for this work by Mr.
Turner, English and French bread and biscuit baker.

“Baking is one of the cheapest and most convenient ways of dressing a
dinner in small families; and, I may say, that the oven is often the
only kitchen a poor man has, if he wishes to enjoy a joint of meat at
home with his family.

“I don’t mean to deny the superior excellence of roasting to baking; but
some joints, when baked, so nearly approach to the same when roasted,
that I have known them to be carried to the table, and eaten as such
with great satisfaction.

“Legs and loins of pork, legs of mutton, fillets of veal, and many other
joints, will bake to great advantage, if the meat be good; I mean
well-fed, rather inclined to be fat: if the meat be poor, no baker can
give satisfaction.

“When baking a poor joint of meat, before it has been half baked I have
seen it start from the bone, and shrivel up scarcely to be believed.

“Besides those joints above mentioned, I shall enumerate a few baked
dishes which I can particularly recommend.

“A pig, when sent to the baker prepared for baking, should have its ears
and tail covered with buttered paper properly fastened on, and a bit of
butter tied up in a piece of linen to baste the back with, otherwise it
will be apt to blister: with a proper share of attention from the baker,
I consider this way equal to a roasted one.

“A goose prepared the same as for roasting, taking care to have it on a
stand, and when half done to turn the other side upwards. A duck the
same.

“A buttock of beef the following way is particularly fine. After it has
been in salt about a week, to be well washed, and put into a brown
earthen pan with a pint of water; cover the pan tight with two or three
thicknesses of cap or foolscap paper: never cover any thing that is to
be baked with brown paper, the pitch and tar that is in brown paper will
give the meat a smoky, bad taste: give it four or five hours in a
moderately heated oven.

“A ham (if not too old) put in soak for an hour, taken out and wiped, a
crust made sufficient to cover it all over, and baked in a moderately
heated oven, cuts fuller of gravy, and of a finer flavour, than a boiled
one. I have been in the habit of baking small cod-fish, haddock, and
mackerel, with a dust of flour, and some bits of butter put on them;
eels, when large and stuffed; herrings and sprats, in a brown pan, with
vinegar and a little spice, and tied over with paper. A hare, prepared
the same as for roasting, with a few pieces of butter, and a little drop
of milk put into the dish, and basted several times, will be found
nearly equal to roasting; or cut it up, season it properly, put it into
a jar or pan, and cover it over and bake it in a moderate oven for about
three hours. In the same manner, I have been in the habit of baking legs
and shins of beef, ox cheeks, &c. prepared with a seasoning of onions,
turnips, &c.: they will take about four hours: let them stand till cold,
to skim off the fat; then warm it up all together, or part, as you may
want it.

“All these I have been in the habit of baking for the first families.

“The time each of the above articles should take depends much upon the
state of the oven, and I do consider the baker a sufficient judge; if
they are sent to him in time, he must be very neglectful if they are not
ready at the time they are ordered.”

For receipts for making bread, French rolls, muffins, crumpets, Sally
Lunn, &c., see the Appendix.

FOOTNOTES:

[66-*] “The process by which food is most commonly prepared for the
table, BOILING, is so familiar to every one, and its effects are so
uniform, and apparently so simple, that few, I believe, have taken the
trouble to inquire _how_ or _in what manner_ those effects are produced;
and whether any, and what improvements in that branch of cookery are
possible. So little has this matter been an object of inquiry, that few,
very few indeed, I believe, among the _millions of persons_ who for so
many ages have been _daily_ employed in this process, have ever given
themselves the trouble to bestow one serious thought on the subject.

“_Boiling_ cannot be carried on without a very great expense of fuel;
but any boiling-hot liquid (by using proper means for confining the
heat) may be kept _boiling-hot_ for any length of time almost without
any expense of fuel at all.

“_The waste of fuel_ in culinary processes, which arises from making
liquids boil _unnecessarily_, or when nothing more would be necessary
than to keep them _boiling-hot_, is enormous; I have not a doubt but
that much more than half the fuel used in all the kitchens, public and
private, in the whole world, is wasted precisely in this manner.

“But the evil does not stop here. This unscientific and slovenly manner
of cooking renders the process much more laborious and troublesome than
otherwise it would be; and, (what by many will be considered of more
importance than either the waste of fuel or the increase of labour to
the cook) the food is rendered less savoury, and very probably less
nourishing and less wholesome.

“It is natural to suppose that many of the finer and more volatile
parts of food (those which are best calculated to act on the organs
of taste), must be carried off with the steam when the boiling is
violent.”--_Count_ RUMFORD’S 10th Essay, pp. 3, 6.

[67-*] If, unfortunately, this should happen, the cook must carefully
take it off when she dishes up, either with a clean sponge or a
paste-brush.

[67-+] Cooks, however, as well as doctors, disagree; for some say, that
“all sorts of fresh meat should be put in when the water boils.” I
prefer the above method for the reason given; gentle stewing renders
meat, &c. tender, and still leaves it sapid and nutritive.

[71-*] The diminution of weight by boiling and roasting is not all lost,
the FAT SKIMMINGS and the DRIPPINGS, nicely clarified, will well supply
the place of lard and for frying. See No. 83, and the receipt for CHEAP
SOUP (No. 229).

CHAPTER II.

ROASTING.

In all studies, it is the best practice to begin with the plainest and
easiest parts; and so on, by degrees, to such as are more difficult: we,
therefore, treated of plain boiling, and we now proceed to roasting: we
shall then gradually unravel to our culinary students the art (and
_mystery_, until developed in this work) of making, with the least
trouble and expense, the most highly finished soups, sauces, and
made-dishes.

Let the young cook never forget that cleanliness is the chief cardinal
virtue of the kitchen; the first preparation for roasting is to take
care that the spit be properly cleaned with sand and water; nothing
else. When it has been well scoured with this, dry it with a clean
cloth. If spits are wiped clean as soon as the meat is drawn from them,
and while they are hot, a very little cleaning will be required. The
less the spit is passed through the meat the better;[74-*] and, before
you spit it, joint it properly, especially necks and loins, that the
carver may separate them easily and neatly, and take especial care it be
evenly balanced on the spit, that its motion may be regular, and the
fire operate equally on each part of it; therefore, be provided with
balancing-skewers and cookholds, and see it is properly jointed.

Roasting should be done by the radiant heat of a clear, glowing fire,
otherwise it is in fact _baked_: the machines the economical
grate-makers call ROASTERS, are, in plain English, ovens.

Count Rumford was certainly an exact economist of fuel, when he
contrived these things; and those philosophers who try all questions
“according to Cocker” may vote for baked victuals; but the rational
epicure, who has been accustomed to enjoy beef well roasted, will soon
be convinced that the poet who wrote our national ballad at the end of
this chapter, was not inspired by Sir Benjamin Thompson’s cookery.

All your attention in roasting will be thrown away, if you do not take
care that your meat, especially beef, has been kept long enough to be
tender. See “ADVICE TO COOKS,” and obs. to No. 68.

Make up the fire in time; let it be proportioned to the dinner to be
dressed, and about three or four inches longer at each end than the
thing to be roasted, or the ends of the meat cannot be done nice and
brown.

A cook must be as particular to proportion her fire to the business she
has to do, as a chemist: the degree of heat most desirable for dressing
the different sorts of food ought to be attended to with the utmost
precision.

The fire that is but just sufficient to receive the noble sirloin (No.
19), will parch up a lighter joint.

From half an hour to an hour before you begin to roast, prepare the fire
by putting a few coals on, which will be sufficiently lighted by the
time you wish to make use of your fire; between the bars, and on the
top, put small or large coals, according to the bulk of the joint, and
the time the fire is required to be strong; after which, throw the
cinders (wetted) at the back.

Never put meat down to a burned-up fire, if you can possibly avoid it;
but should the fire become fierce, place the spit at a considerable
distance, and allow a little more time.

Preserve the fat,[75-*] by covering it with paper, for this purpose
called “kitchen-paper,” and tie it on with fine twine; pins and skewers
can by no means be allowed; they are so many taps to let out the gravy:
besides, the paper often starts from them and catches fire, to the great
injury of the meat.

If the thing to be roasted be thin and tender, the fire should be little
and brisk: when you have a large joint to roast, make up a sound, strong
fire, equally good in every part of the grate, or your meat cannot be
equally roasted, nor have that uniform colour which constitutes the
beauty of good roasting.

Give the fire a good stirring before you lay the joint down; examine it
from time to time while the spit is going round; keep it clear at the
bottom, and take care there are no smoky coals in the front, which will
spoil the look and taste of the meat, and hinder it from roasting
evenly.

When the joint to be roasted is thicker at one end than the other, place
the spit slanting, with the thickest part nearest the fire.

Do not put meat too near the fire at first; the larger the joint, the
farther it must be kept from the fire: if once it gets scorched, the
outside will become hard, and acquire a disagreeable, empyreumatic
taste; and the fire being prevented from penetrating into it, the meat
will appear done before it is little more than half-done, besides losing
the pale brown colour, which it is the beauty of roasted meat to have.

From 14 to 10 inches is the usual distance at which meat is put from the
grate, when first put down. It is extremely difficult to offer any thing
like an accurate general rule for this, it depends so much upon the size
of the fire, and of that of the thing to be roasted.

Till some culinary philosopher shall invent a thermometer to ascertain
the heat of the fire, and a graduated spit-rack to regulate the distance
from it, the process of roasting is attended by so many ever-varying
circumstances, that it must remain among those which can only be
performed well, by frequent practice and attentive observation.

If you wish your jack to go well, keep it as clean as possible, oil it,
and then wipe it: if the oil is not wiped off again it will gather dust;
to prevent this, as soon as you have done roasting, cover it up. Never
leave the winders on while the jack is going round, unless you do it, as
Swift says, “that it may fly off, and knock those troublesome servants
on the head who will be crowding round your kitchen fire.”

Be very careful to place the dripping-pan at such a distance from the
fire as just to catch the drippings: if it is too near, the ashes will
fall into it, and spoil the drippings[76-*] (which we shall hereafter
show will occasionally be found an excellent substitute for butter or
lard). To clarify drippings, see (No. 83,) and pease and dripping soup
(No. 229), savoury and salubrious, for only a penny per quart. If it is
too far from the fire to catch them, you will not only lose your
drippings, but the meat will be blackened and spoiled by the fœtid
smoke, which will arise when the fat falls on the live cinders.

A large dripping-pan is convenient for several purposes. It should not
be less than 28 inches long and 20 inches wide, and have a covered well
on the side from the fire, to collect the drippings; this will preserve
them in the most delicate state: in a pan of the above size you may set
fried fish, and various dishes, to keep hot.

This is one of Painter’s and Hawke’s contrivances, near Norfolk-street,
Strand.

The time meat will take roasting will vary according to the time it has
been kept, and the temperature of the weather; the same weight[77-*]
will be twenty minutes or half an hour longer in cold weather,[77-+]
than it will be in warm; and if fresh killed, than if it has been kept
till it is tender.

A good meat-screen is a great saver of fuel. It should be on wheels,
have a flat top, and not be less than about three feet and a half wide,
and with shelves in it, about one foot deep; it will then answer all the
purposes of a large Dutch oven, plate-warmer, hot hearth, &c. Some are
made with a door behind: this is convenient, but the great heat they are
exposed to soon shrinks the materials, and the currents of air through
the cracks cannot be prevented, so they are better without the door. We
have seen one, which had on the top of it a very convenient _hot
closet_, which is a great acquisition in kitchens, where the dinner
waits after it is dressed.

Every body knows the advantage of _slow boiling_. _Slow roasting_ is
equally important.

It is difficult to give any specific rule for time; but if your fire is
made as before directed, your meat-screen sufficiently large to guard
what you are dressing from currents of air, and the meat is not frosted,
you cannot do better than follow the old general rule of allowing rather
more than a quarter of an hour to the pound; a little more or less,
according to the temperature of the weather, in proportion as the piece
is thick or thin, the strength of the fire, the nearness of the meat to
it, and the frequency with which you baste it; the more it is basted the
less time it will take, as it keeps the meat soft and mellow on the
outside, and the fire acts with more force upon it.

Reckon the time, not to the hour when dinner is ordered, but to the
moment the roasts will be wanted. Supposing there are a dozen people to
sip soup and eat fish first, you may allow them ten or fifteen minutes
for the former, and about as long for the latter, more or less,
according to the temptations the “BON GOUT” of these preceding courses
has to attract their attention.

When the joint is half done, remove the spit and dripping-pan back, and
stir up your fire thoroughly, that it may burn clear and bright for the
browning; when the steam from the meat draws towards the fire,[78-*] it
is a sign of its being done enough; but you will be the best judge of
that, from the time it has been down, the strength of the fire you have
used, and the distance your spit has been from it.

Half an hour before your meat is done, make some gravy (_see Receipt_,
No. 326); and just before you take it up, put it nearer the fire to
brown it. If you wish to froth it, baste it, and dredge it with flour
carefully: you cannot do this delicately nice without a very good light.
The common fault seems to be using too much flour. The meat should have
a fine light varnish of froth, not the appearance of being covered with
a paste. Those who are particular about the froth use butter instead of
drippings; (see receipt to roast a turkey, No. 57)--

“And send up what you roast with relish-giving froth,”

says Dr. King, and present such an agreeable appearance to the eye, that
the palate may be prepossessed in its favour at first sight; therefore,
have the whole course dished, before roasts are taken from the fire.

A good cook is as anxiously attentive to the appearance and colour of
her roasts, as a court beauty is to her complexion at a birthday ball.
If your meat does not brown so much, or so evenly as you wish, take two
ounces of Glaze, _i. e._ portable soup, put four table-spoonfuls of
water, and let it warm and dissolve gradually by the side of the fire.
This will be done in about a quarter of an hour; put it on the meat
equally all over with a paste-brush the last thing before it goes to
table.

Though roasting is one of the most common, and is generally considered
one of the most easy and simple processes of cookery, it requires more
unremitting attention to perform it perfectly well than it does to make
most made-dishes.

That made-dishes are the most difficult preparations, deserves to be
reckoned among the culinary vulgar errors; in plain roasting and boiling
it is not easy to repair a mistake once made; and all the discretion and
attention of a steady, careful cook, must be unremittingly upon the
alert.[78-+]

A diligent attention to time, the distance of the meat from, and
judicious management of, the fire, and frequent bastings,[79-*] are all
the general rules we can prescribe. We shall deliver particular rules
for particular things, as the several articles occur, and do our utmost
endeavours to instruct our reader as completely as words can describe
the process, and teach

“The management of common things so well,
That what was thought the meanest shall excel:
That cook’s to British palates most complete,
Whose sav’ry skill gives zest to common meat:
For what are soups, your ragoûts, and your sauce,
Compared to the fare of OLD ENGLAND,
And OLD ENGLISH ROAST BEEF!”

* TAKE NOTICE, _that the_ TIME _given in the following receipts is
calculated for those who like meat thoroughly roasted._ (_See N.B.
preceding No. 19._)

Some good housewives order very large joints to be rather under-done, as
they then make a better hash or broil.

To make _gravy_ for roast, see No. 326.

N.B. _Roasts_ must not be put on, till the _soup_ and _fish_ are taken
off the table.

DREDGINGS.

1. Flour mixed with grated bread.

2. Sweet herbs dried and powdered, and mixed with grated bread.

3. Lemon-peel dried and pounded, or orange-peel, mixed with flour.

4. Sugar finely powdered, and mixed with pounded cinnamon, and
flour or grated bread.

5. Fennel-seeds, corianders, cinnamon, and sugar, finely beaten,
and mixed with grated bread or flour.

6. For young pigs, grated bread or flour, mixed with beaten nutmeg,
ginger, pepper, sugar, and yelks of eggs.

7. Sugar, bread, and salt, mixed.

BASTINGS.

1. Fresh butter.

2. Clarified suet.

3. Minced sweet herbs, butter, and claret, especially for mutton
and lamb.

4. Water and salt.

5. Cream and melted butter, especially for a flayed pig.

6. Yelks of eggs, grated biscuit, and juice of oranges.

FOOTNOTES:

[74-*] Small families have not always the convenience of roasting with a
spit; a remark upon ROASTING BY A STRING is necessary. Let the cook,
_before_ she puts her meat down to the fire, pass a strong skewer
through _each end_ of the joint: by this means, when it is about
half-done, she can with ease turn the bottom upwards; the gravy will
then flow to the part which has been uppermost, and the whole joint be
deliciously gravyful.

A BOTTLE JACK, as it is termed by the furnishing ironmongers, is a
valuable instrument for roasting.

A DUTCH OVEN is another very convenient utensil for roasting light
joints, or warming them up.

[75-*] If there is more FAT than you think will be eaten with the lean,
trim it off; it will make an excellent PUDDING (No. 551, or 554): or
clarify it (No. 83).

[76-*] This the good housewife will take up occasionally, and pass
through a sieve into a stone pan; by leaving it all in the dripping-pan
until the meat is taken up, it not only becomes very strong, but when
the meat is rich, and yields much of it, it is apt to be spilt in
basting. To CLARIFY DRIPPINGS, see No. 83.

[77-*] _Insist upon the butcher fixing a_ TICKET _of the weight to each
joint._

[77-+] IF THE MEAT IS FROZEN, the usual practice is to put it into cold
water till it is thawed, then dry and roast it as usual; but we
recommend you to bring it into the kitchen the night before, or early in
the morning of the day you want to roast it, and the warm air will thaw
it much better.

[78-*] When the steam begins to arise, it is a proof that the whole
joint is thoroughly saturated with heat; any unnecessary evaporation is
a waste of the best nourishment of the meat.

[78-+] A celebrated French writer has given us the following
observations on roasting:--

“The art of roasting victuals to the precise degree, is one of the most
difficult in this world; and _you may find half a thousand good cooks
sooner than one perfect roaster_. (See ‘_Almanach des Gourmands_,’ vol.
i. p. 37.) In the mansions of the opulent, they have, besides the master
kitchener, a roaster, (perfectly independent of the former,) who is
exclusively devoted to the spit.

“All erudite _gourmands_ know that these two important functions cannot
be performed by one artist; it is quite impossible at the same time to
superintend the operations of the spit and stewpan.”--Further on, the
same author observes: “No certain rules can be given for roasting, the
perfection of it depending on many circumstances which are continually
changing; the age and size (especially the thickness) of the pieces, the
quality of the coals, the temperature of the atmosphere, the currents of
air in the kitchen, the more or less attention of the roaster; and,
lastly, the time of serving. Supposing the dinner ordered to be on table
at a certain time, if the fish and soup are much liked, and detained
longer than the roaster has calculated; or, on the contrary, if they are
despatched sooner than is expected, the roasts will in one case be burnt
up, in the other not done enough--two misfortunes equally to be
deplored. The first, however, is without a remedy; _five minutes on the
spit, more or less, decides the goodness of this mode of cookery_. It is
almost impossible to seize the precise instant when it ought to be
eaten; which epicures in roasts express by saying, ‘It is _done to a
turn_.’ So that there is no exaggeration in saying, the perfect roaster
is even more rare than the professed cook.

“In small families, where the cook is also the roaster, it is almost
impossible the roasts should be well done: the spit claims exclusive
attention, and is an imperious mistress who demands the entire devotion
of her slave. But how can this be, when the cook is obliged, at the same
time, to attend her fish and soup-kettles, and watch her stewpans and
all their accompaniments?--it is morally and physically impossible: if
she gives that delicate and constant attention to the roasts which is
indispensably requisite, the rest of the dinner must often be spoiled;
and most cooks would rather lose their character as a roaster, than
neglect the made-dishes and ‘_entremets_,’ &c., where they think they
can display their _culinary science_,--than sacrifice these to the
roasts, the perfection of which will only prove their steady vigilance
and patience.”

[79-*] Our ancestors were very particular in their BASTINGS and
DREDGINGS, as will be seen by the following quotation from MAY’S
“_Accomplished Cook_,” London, 1665, p. 136. “The rarest ways of
dressing of all manner of roast meats, either flesh or fowl, by sea or
land, and divers ways of braiding or dredging meats to prevent the gravy
from too much evaporating.”

CHAPTER III.

FRYING.

Frying is often a convenient mode of cookery; it may be performed by a
fire which will not do for roasting or boiling; and by the introduction
of the pan between the meat and the fire, things get more equally
dressed.

The Dutch oven or bonnet is another very convenient utensil for small
things, and a very useful substitute for the jack, the gridiron, or
frying-pan.

A frying-pan should be about four inches deep, with a perfectly flat and
thick bottom, 12 inches long and 9 broad, with perpendicular sides, and
must be half filled with fat: good frying is, in fact, boiling in fat.
To make sure that the pan is quite clean, rub a little fat over it, and
then make it warm, and wipe it out with a clean cloth.

Be very particular in frying, never to use any oil, butter, lard, or
drippings, but what is quite clean, fresh, and free from salt. Any thing
dirty spoils the look; any thing bad-tasted or stale, spoils the
flavour; and salt prevents its browning.

Fine olive oil is the most delicate for frying; but the best oil is
expensive, and bad oil spoils every thing that is dressed with it.

For general purposes, and especially for fish, clean fresh lard is not
near so expensive as oil or clarified butter, and does almost as well.
Butter often burns before you are aware of it; and what you fry will get
a dark and dirty appearance.

Cooks in large kitchens, where there is a great deal of frying, commonly
use mutton or beef suet clarified (see No. 84): if from the kidney, all
the better.

Dripping, if nicely clean and fresh, is almost as good as any thing; if
not clean, it may be easily clarified (see No. 83). Whatever fat you
use, after you have done frying, let it remain in the pan for a few
minutes, and then pour it through a sieve into a clean basin; it will do
three or four times as well as it did at first, _i. e._ if it has not
burned: but, _Mem._ the fat you have fried fish in must not be used for
any other purpose.

To know when the fat is of a proper heat, according to what you are to
fry, is the great secret in frying.

To fry fish, parsley, potatoes, or any thing that is watery, your fire
must be very clear, and the fat quite hot; which you may be pretty sure
of, when it has done hissing, and is still. We cannot insist too
strongly on this point: if the fat is not very hot, you cannot fry fish
either to a good colour, or firm and crisp.

To be quite certain, throw a little bit of bread into the pan; if it
fries crisp, the fat is ready; if it burns the bread, it is too hot.

The fire under the pan must be clear and sharp, otherwise the fat is so
long before it becomes ready, and demands such attendance to prevent the
accident of its catching fire,[81-*] that the patience of cooks is
exhausted, and they frequently, from ignorance or impatience, throw in
what they are going to fry before the fat is half hot enough. Whatever
is so fried will be pale and sodden, and offend the palate and stomach
not less than the eye.

Have a good light to fry by, that you may see when you have got the
right colour: a lamp fixed on a stem, with a loaded foot, which has an
arm that lengthens out, and slides up and down like a reading
candlestick, is a most useful appendage to kitchen fireplaces, which are
very seldom light enough for the nicer operations of cookery.

After all, if you do not thoroughly drain the fat from what you have
fried, especially from those things that are full dressed in bread
crumbs,[82-*] or biscuit powder, &c., your cooking will do you no
credit.

The dryness of fish depends much upon its having been fried in fat of a
due degree of heat; it is then crisp and dry in a few minutes after it
is taken out of the pan: when it is not, lay it on a soft cloth before
the fire, turning it occasionally, till it is. This will sometimes take
15 minutes: therefore, always fry fish as long as this before you want
them, for fear you may find this necessary.

To fry fish, see receipt to fry soles, (No. 145) which is the only
circumstantial account of the process that has yet been printed. If the
cook will study it with a little attention, she must soon become an
accomplished frier.

Frying, though one of the most common of culinary operations, is one
that is least commonly performed perfectly well.

FOOTNOTES:

[81-*] If this unfortunately happens, be not alarmed, but immediately
wet a basket of ashes and throw them down the chimney, and wet a blanket
and hold it close all round the fireplace; as soon as the current of air
is stopped, the fire will be extinguished; with a CHARCOAL STOVE there
is no danger, as the diameter of the pan exceeds that of the fire.

CHAPTER IV.

BROILING.

“And as now there is nought on the fire that is spoiling,
We’ll give you just two or three hints upon broiling;
How oft you must turn a beefsteak, and how seldom
A good mutton chop, for to have ’em both well done;
And for skill in such cookery your credit ’t will fetch up,
If your broils are well-seasoned with good mushroom catchup.”

Cleanliness is extremely essential in this mode of cookery.

Keep your gridiron quite clean between the bars, and bright on the top:
when it is hot, wipe it well with a linen cloth: just before you use it,
rub the bars with clean mutton-suet, to prevent the meat from being
marked by the gridiron.

Take care to prepare your fire in time, so that it may burn quite clear:
a brisk and clear fire is indispensable, or you cannot give your meat
that browning which constitutes the perfection of this mode of cookery,
and gives a relish to food it cannot receive any other way.

The chops or slices should be from half to three-quarters of an inch in
thickness; if thicker, they will be done too much on the outside before
the inside is done enough.

Be diligently attentive to watch the moment that any thing is done:
never hasten any thing that is broiling, lest you make smoke and spoil
it.

Let the bars of the gridiron be all hot through, but yet not burning hot
upon the surface: this is the perfect and fine condition of the
gridiron.

As the bars keep away as much heat as their breadth covers, it is
absolutely necessary they should be thoroughly hot before the thing to
be cooked be laid on them.

The bars of gridirons should be made concave, and terminate in a trough
to catch the gravy and keep the fat from dropping into the fire and
making a smoke, which will spoil the broil.

Upright gridirons are the best, as they can be used at any fire without
fear of smoke; and the gravy is preserved in the trough under them.

N.B. Broils must be brought to table as hot as possible; set a dish to
heat when you put your chops on the gridiron, from whence to the mouth
their progress must be as quick as possible.

When the fire is not clear, the business of the gridiron may be done by
the Dutch oven or bonnet.

FOOTNOTES:

[82-*] When you want a great many BREAD CRUMBS, divide your loaf (which
should be two days old) into three equal parts; take the middle or crumb
piece, the top and bottom will do for table: _in the usual way of
cutting, the crust is wasted_.

OATMEAL is a very satisfactory, and an extremely economical substitute
for _bread crumbs_. See No. 145.

CHAPTER V.

VEGETABLES.

There is nothing in which the difference between an elegant and an
ordinary table is more seen than in the dressing of vegetables, more
especially greens. They may be equally as fine at first, at one place as
at another; but their look and taste are afterward very different,
entirely from the careless way in which they have been cooked.

They are in greatest perfection when in greatest plenty, _i. e._ when in
full season.

By season, I do not mean those early days, that luxury in the buyers,
and avarice in the sellers, force the various vegetables; but that time
of the year in which by nature and common culture, and the mere
operation of the sun and climate, they are in most plenty and
perfection.

Potatoes and pease are seldom worth eating before midsummer; unripe
vegetables are as insipid and unwholesome as unripe fruits.

As to the quality of vegetables, the middle size are preferred to the
largest or the smallest; they are more tender, juicy, and full of
flavour, just before they are quite full-grown. Freshness is their chief
value and excellence, and I should as soon think of roasting an animal
alive, as of boiling a vegetable after it is dead.

The eye easily discovers if they have been kept too long; they soon lose
their beauty in all respects.

Roots, greens, salads, &c. and the various productions of the garden,
when first gathered, are plump and firm, and have a fragrant freshness
no art can give them again, when they have lost it by long keeping;
though it will refresh them a little to put them into cold spring water
for some time before they are dressed.

To boil them in soft water will preserve the colour best of such as are
green; if you have only hard water, put to it a tea-spoonful of
_carbonate of potash_.[84-*]

Take care to wash and cleanse them thoroughly from dust, dirt, and
insects: this requires great attention. Pick off all the outside leaves,
trim them nicely, and, if not quite fresh gathered and have become
flaccid, it is absolutely necessary to restore their crispness before
cooking them, or they will be tough and unpleasant: lay them in a pan of
clean water, with a handful of salt in it, for an hour before you dress
them.

“Most vegetables being more or less succulent, their full proportion of
fluids is necessary for their retaining that state of crispness and
plumpness which they have when growing. On being cut or gathered, the
exhalation from their surface continues, while, from the open vessels of
the cut surface, there is often great exudation or evaporation; and thus
their natural moisture is diminished, the tender leaves become flaccid,
and the thicker masses or roots lose their plumpness. This is not only
less pleasant to the eye, but is a real injury to the nutritious powers
of the vegetable; for in this flaccid and shrivelled state its fibres
are less easily divided in chewing, and the water which exists in
vegetable substances, in the form of their respective natural juices, is
directly nutritious. The first care in the preservation of succulent
vegetables, therefore, is to prevent them from losing their natural
moisture.”--_Suppl. to Edin. Encyclop._ vol. iv. p. 335.

They should always be boiled in a sauce-pan by themselves, and have
plenty of water; if meat is boiled with them in the same pot, they will
spoil the look and taste of each other.

If you wish to have vegetables delicately clean, put on your pot, make
it boil, put a little salt in it, and skim it perfectly clean before you
put in the greens, &c.; which should not be put in till the water boils
briskly: the quicker they boil, the greener they will be. When the
vegetables sink, they are generally done enough, if the water has been
kept constantly boiling. Take them up immediately, or they will lose
their colour and goodness. Drain the water from them thoroughly before
you send them to table.

This branch of cookery requires the most vigilant attention.

If vegetables are a minute or two too long over the fire, they lose all
their beauty and flavour.

If not thoroughly boiled tender, they are tremendously indigestible, and
much more troublesome during their residence in the stomach, than
under-done meats.[85-*]

To preserve or give colour in cookery, many good dishes are spoiled; but
the rational epicure who makes nourishment the main end of eating, will
be content to sacrifice the shadow to enjoy the substance. Vide _Obs._
to No. 322.

Once for all, take care your vegetables are fresh: for as the fishmonger
often suffers for the sins of the cook, so the cook often gets
undeservedly blamed instead of the green-grocer.

Vegetables, in this metropolis, are often kept so long, that no art can
make them either look or eat well.

Strong-scented vegetables should be kept apart; leeks, or celery, laid
among cauliflowers, &c. will quickly spoil them.

“Succulent vegetables are best preserved in a cool, shady, and damp
place.

“Potatoes, turnips, carrots, and similar roots, intended to be stored
up, should never be cleaned from the earth adhering to them, till they
are to be dressed.

“They must be protected from the action of the air and frost, by laying
them in heaps, burying them in sand or earth, &c., or covering them with
straw or mats.

“The action of frost destroys the life of the vegetable, and it speedily
rots.”--_Suppl. to Edin. Encyclop._ vol. iv. p. 335.

MEM.--When vegetables are quite fresh gathered, they will not require so
much boiling, by at least a third of the time, as when they have been
gathered the usual time those are that are brought to public markets.

FOOTNOTES:

[84-*] Peàrlash is a sub-carbonate, and will answer the purpose. It is a
common article in the kitchen of the American housekeeper. A.

[85-*] “CAULIFLOWERS and other vegetables are often boiled only crisp to
preserve their beauty. For the look alone they had better not be boiled
at all, and almost as well for the use, as in this crude state they are
scarcely digestible by the strongest stomach. On the other hand, when
over-boiled, they become vapid, and in a state similar to decay, in
which they afford no sweet purifying juices to the body, but load it
with a mass of mere feculent matter.”--_Domestic Management_, 12mo.
1813, p. 69.

CHAPTER VI.

FISH.

This department of the business of the kitchen requires considerable
experience, and depends more upon practice than any other. A very few
moments, more or less, will thoroughly spoil fish;[86-*] which, to be
eaten in perfection, must never be put on the table till the soup is
taken off.

So many circumstances operate on this occasion, that it is almost
impossible to write general rules.

There are decidedly different opinions, whether fish should be put into
cold, tepid, or boiling water.

We believe, for some of the fame the Dutch cooks have acquired, they are
a little indebted to their situation affording them a plentiful supply
of fresh fish for little more than the trouble of catching it; and that
the superior excellence of the fish in Holland, is because none are
used, unless they are brought alive into the kitchen (mackerel excepted,
which die the moment they are taken out of the water). The Dutch are as
nice about this as Seneca says the Romans[86-+] were; who, complaining
of the luxury of the times, says, “They are come to that daintiness,
that they will not eat a fish, unless upon the same day that it is
taken, that it may taste of the sea, as they express it.”

On the Dutch flat coast, the fish are taken with nets: on our rocky
coast, they are mostly caught by bait and hook, which instantly kills
them. Fish are brought alive by land to the Dutch markets, in water
casks with air-holes in the top. Salmon, and other fish, are thus
preserved in rivers, in a well-hole in the fishing-boat.

All kinds of fish are best some time before they begin to spawn; and are
unfit for food for some time after they have spawned.

Fish, like animals, are fittest for the table when they are just full
grown; and what has been said in Chapter V. respecting vegetables,
applies equally well to fish.

The most convenient utensil to boil fish in, is a turbot-kettle. This
should be 24 inches long, 22 wide, and 9 deep. It is an excellent vessel
to boil a ham in, &c. &c.

The good folks of this metropolis are so often disappointed by having
fish which has been kept too long, that they are apt to run into the
other extreme, and suppose that fish will not dress well unless it is
absolutely alive. This is true of lobsters, &c. (No. 176), and may be of
fresh-water fish, but certainly not of some sea-fish.

Several respectable fishmongers and experienced cooks have assured the
editor, that they are often in danger of losing their credit by fish too
fresh, and especially turbot and cod, which, like meat, require a
certain time before they are in the best condition to be dressed. They
recommend them to be put into cold water, salted in proportion of about
a quarter of a pound of salt to a gallon of water. Sea-water is best to
boil sea-fish in. It not only saves the expense of salt, but the flavour
is better. Let them boil slowly till done; the sign of which is, that
the skin of the fish rises up, and the eyes turn white.

It is the business of the fishmonger to clean them, &c. but the careful
cook will always wash them again.

Garnish with slices of lemon, finely scraped horseradish, fried oysters
(No. 183), smelts (No. 173), whitings (No. 153), or strips of soles, as
directed in No. 145.

The liver, roe, and chitterlings should be placed so that the carver may
observe them, and invite the guests to partake of them.

N.B. FISH, like meat, requires more cooking in cold than in warm
weather. If it becomes FROZEN,[88-*] it must be thawed by the means we
have directed for meat, in the 2d chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery.

[Fish are plenty and good, and in great variety, in all the towns and
cities on the extensive coast of the United States. Some of the interior
towns are also supplied with fish peculiar to the lakes and rivers of
this country. A.]

FISH SAUCES.

The melted butter (No. 256) for fish, should be thick enough to adhere
to the fish, and, therefore, must be of the thickness of light batter,
as it is to be diluted with essence of anchovy (No. 433), soy (No. 436),
mushroom catchup (No. 439). Cayenne (No. 404), or Chili vinegar (No.
405), lemons or lemon-juice, or artificial lemon-juice, (see No. 407*),
&c. which are expected at all well-served tables.

Cooks, who are jealous of the reputation of their taste, and
housekeepers who value their health, will prepare these articles at
home: there are quite as many reasons why they should, as there are for
the preference usually given to home-baked bread and home-brewed beer,
&c.

N.B. The liver of the fish pounded and mixed with butter, with a little
lemon-juice, &c. is an elegant and inoffensive relish to fish (see No.
288). Mushroom sauce extempore (No. 307), or the soup of mock turtle
(No. 247), will make an excellent fish sauce.

On the comparatively nutritive qualities of fish, see N.B. to No. 181.

FOOTNOTES:

[86-*] When the cook has large dinners to prepare, and the time of
serving uncertain, she will get more credit by FRIED (see No. 145), or
stewed (see No. 164), than by BOILED fish. It is also cheaper, and much
sooner carved (see No. 145).

Mr. Ude, page 238 of his cookery, advises, “If you are obliged to wait
after the fish is done, do not let it remain in the water, but keep the
water boiling, and put the fish over it, and cover it with a damp cloth;
when the dinner is called for, dip the fish again in the water, and
serve it up.”

The only circumstantial instructions yet printed for FRYING FISH, the
reader will find in No. 145; if this be carefully and nicely attended
to, you will have delicious food.

[86-+] They had salt-water preserves for feeding different kinds of
sea-fish; those in the ponds of Lucullus, at his death, sold for
25,000_l._ sterling. The prolific power of fish is wonderful: the
following calculations are from Petit, Block, and Leuwenhoeck:--

_Eggs._
A salmon of 20 pounds weight contained 27,850
A middling-sized pike 148,000
A mackerel 546,681
A cod 9,344,000

See _Cours Gastronomiques_, 18mo. 1806, p. 241.

[88-*] Fish are very frequently sent home frozen by the fishmonger, to
whom an ice-house is now as necessary an appendage (to preserve fish,)
as it is to a confectioner.

CHAPTER VII.

BROTHS AND SOUPS.

The cook must pay continual attention to the condition of her
stew-pans[89-*] and soup-kettles, &c. which should be examined every
time they are used. The prudent housewife will carefully examine the
condition of them herself at least once a month. Their covers also must
be kept perfectly clean and well tinned, and the stew-pans not only on
the inside, but about a couple of inches on the outside: many mischiefs
arise from their getting out of repair; and if not kept nicely tinned,
all your good work will be in vain; the broths and soups will look green
and dirty, taste bitter and poisonous, and will be spoiled both for the
eye and palate, and your credit will be lost.

The health, and even life of the family, depends upon this, and the cook
may be sure her employers had rather pay the tinman’s bill than the
doctor’s; therefore, attention to this cannot fail to engage the regard
of the mistress, between whom and the cook it will be my utmost
endeavour to promote perfect harmony.

If a servant has the misfortune to scorch or blister the tinning of her
pan,[89-+] which will happen sometimes to the most careful cook, I
advise her, by all means, immediately to acquaint her employers, who
will thank her for candidly mentioning an accident; and censure her
deservedly if she conceal it.

Take care to be properly provided with sieves and tammy cloths, spoons
and ladles. Make it a rule without an exception, never to use them till
they are well cleaned and thoroughly dried, nor any stewpans, &c.
without first washing them out with boiling water, and rubbing them well
with a dry cloth and a little bran, to clean them from grease, sand,
&c., or any bad smell they may have got since they were last used: never
neglect this.

Though we do not suppose our cook to be such a naughty slut as to
wilfully neglect her broth-pots, &c., yet we may recommend her to wash
them immediately, and take care they are thoroughly dried at the fire,
before they are put by, and to keep them in a dry place, for damp will
rust and destroy them very soon: attend to this the first moment you can
spare after the dinner is sent up.

Never put by any soup, gravy, &c. in metal utensils; in which never keep
any thing longer than is absolutely necessary for the purposes of
cookery; the acid, vegetables, fat, &c. employed in making soups, &c.
are capable of dissolving such utensils; therefore stone or earthen
vessels should be used for this purpose.

Stew-pans, soup-pots, and preserving pans, with thick and round bottoms
(such as sauce-pans are made with), will wear twice as long, and are
cleaned with half the trouble, as those whose sides are soldered to the
bottom, of which sand and grease get into the joined part, and cookeys
say that it is next to an impossibility to dislodge it, even if their
nails are as long as Nebuchadnezzar’s. The Editor claims the credit bf
having first suggested the importance of this construction of these
utensils.

Take care that the lids fit as close as possible, that the broth, soup,
and sauces, &c. may not waste by evaporation. They are good for nothing,
unless they fit tight enough to keep the steam in and the smoke out.

Stew-pans and sauce-pans should be always bright on the upper rim, where
the fire does not burn them; but to scour them all over is not only
giving the cook needless trouble, but wearing out the vessels. See
observations on sauce-pans in Chapter I.

Cultivate habits of regularity and cleanliness, &c. in all your
business, which you will then get through easily and comfortably. I do
not mean the restless spirit of _Molidusta_, “the _Tidy One_,” who is
anon, anon, Sir, frisking about in a whirlpool of bustle and confusion,
and is always dirty, under pretence of being always cleaning.

Lean, juicy beef, mutton, or veal, form the basis of broth; procure
those pieces which afford the richest succulence, and as fresh killed as
possible.[90-*]

Stale meat will make broth grouty and bad tasted, and fat meat is
wasted. This only applies to those broths which are required to be
perfectly clear: we shall show hereafter (in No. 229), that fat and
clarified drippings may be so combined with vegetable mucilage, as to
afford, at the small cost of one penny per quart, a nourishing and
palatable soup, fully adequate to satisfy appetite and support strength:
this will open a new source to those benevolent housekeepers, who are
disposed to relieve the poor, will show the industrious classes how much
they have it in their power to assist themselves, and rescue them from
being objects of charity dependent on the precarious bounty of others,
by teaching them how they may obtain a cheap, abundant, salubrious, and
agreeable aliment for themselves and families.

This soup has the advantage of being very easily and very soon made,
with no more fuel than is necessary to warm a room. Those who have not
tasted it, cannot imagine what a salubrious, savoury, and satisfying
meal is produced by the judicious combination of cheap homely
ingredients.

Scotch barley broth (No. 204) will furnish a good dinner of soup and
meat for fivepence per head, pease soup (No. 221) will cost only
sixpence per quart, ox-tail soup (No. 240) or the same portable soup
(No. 252), for fivepence per quart, and (No. 224) an excellent gravy
soup for fourpence halfpenny per quart, duck-giblet soup (No. 244) for
threepence per quart, and fowls’ head soup in the same manner for still
less (No. 239), will give you a good and plentiful dinner for six people
for two shillings and twopence. See also shin of beef stewed (No. 493),
and à-la-mode beef (No. 502).

BROTH HERBS, SOUP ROOTS, AND SEASONINGS.

Scotch barley (No. 204).
Pearl barley.
Flour.
OATMEAL (No. 572).
Bread.
Raspings.
Pease (No. 218).
Beans.
Rice (No. 321*).
Vermicelli.
Macaroni (No. 513).
Isinglass.
Potato mucilage (No. 448).
Mushrooms[91-*] (No. 439).
Champignons.
Parsnips (No. 213).
Carrots (No. 212).
Beet-roots.
Turnips (No. 208).
Garlic.
Shallots, (No. 402.)
Onions.[91-+]
Leeks.
Cucumber.[92-*]
Celery (No. 214).
CELERY SEED.[92-+]
Cress-seed,[92-+] (No. 397).
Parsley,[92-++] (N.B. to No. 261.)
Common thyme.[92-++]
Lemon thyme.[92-++]
Orange thyme.[92-++]
Knotted marjorum[92-++] (No. 417).
Sage.[92-++]
Mint (No. 398).
Winter savoury.[92-++]
Sweet basil[92-++] (No. 397).
Bay leaves.
Tomata.
Tarragon (No. 396).
Chervil.
Burnet (No. 399).
ALLSPICE[92-§] (No. 412).
Cinnamon[92-§] (No. 416*).
Ginger[92-§] (No. 411).
Nutmeg.[92-§]
Clove (No. 414).
Mace.
Black pepper.
Lemon-peel (No. 407 & 408.)
White pepper.
Lemon-juice.[92-||]
Seville orange-juice.[92-¶]
Essence of anchovy (No. 433).

The above materials, wine, and mushroom catchup (No. 439), combined in
various proportions, will make an endless variety[93-*] of excellent
broths and soups, quite as pleasant to the palate, and as useful and
agreeable to the stomach, as consuming pheasants and partridges, and the
long list of inflammatory, _piquante_, and rare and costly articles,
recommended by former cookery-book makers, whose elaborately compounded
soups are like their made dishes; in which, though variety is aimed at,
every thing has the same taste, and nothing its own.

The general fault of our soups seems to be the employment of an excess
of spice, and too small a portion of roots and herbs.[93-+]

Besides the ingredients I have enumerated, many culinary scribes
indiscriminately cram into almost every dish (in such inordinate
quantities, one would suppose they were working for the _asbestos_
palate of an Indian fire-eater) anchovies, garlic,[93-++] bay-leaves,
and that hot, fiery spice, _Cayenne_[93-§] pepper; this, which the
French call (not undeservedly) _piment enragé_ (No. 404), has, somehow
or other, unaccountably acquired a character for being very wholesome;
while the milder peppers and spices are cried down, as destroying the
sensibility of the palate and stomach, &c., and being the source of a
thousand mischiefs. We should just as soon recommend alcohol as being
less intoxicating than wine.

The best thing that has been said in praise of peppers is, “that with
all kinds of vegetables, as also with soups (especially vegetable soups)
and fish, either black or Cayenne pepper may be taken freely: they are
the most useful stimulants to old stomachs, and often supersede the
cravings for strong drinks; or diminish the quantity otherwise
required.” See Sir A. CARLISLE _on Old Age_, London, 1817. A certain
portion of condiment is occasionally serviceable to excite and keep up
the languid action of feeble and advanced life: we must increase the
stimulus of our aliment as the inirritability of our system increases.
We leave those who love these things to use them as they like; their
flavours can be very extemporaneously produced by chilly-juice, or
essence of Cayenne (No. 405), eschalot wine (No. 402), and essence of
anchovy (No. 433).

There is no French dinner without soup, which is regarded as an
indispensable _overture_; it is commonly followed by “_le coup
d’Après_,” a glass of pure wine, which they consider so wholesome after
soup, that their proverb says, the physician thereby loses a fee.
Whether the glass of wine be so much more advantageous for the patient
than it is for his doctor, we know not, but believe it an excellent plan
to begin the banquet with a basin of good soup, which, by moderating the
appetite for solid animal food, is certainly a salutiferous custom.
Between the _roasts_ and the _entremets_ they introduce “_le coup du
Milieu_” or a small glass of _Jamaica rum_, or _essence of punch_ (see
No. 471), or CURACAO (No. 474).

The introduction of liqueurs is by no means a modern custom: our
ancestors were very fond of a highly spiced stimulus of this sort,
commonly called _Ipocrasse_, which generally made a part of the last
course, or was taken immediately after dinner.

_The crafte to make ypocras._

“Take a quarte of red wyne, an ounce of synamon, and halfe an ounce of
gynger; a quarter of an ounce of greynes (probably of paradise) and long
pepper, and halfe a pounde of sugar; and brose (_bruise_) all this (_not
too small_), and then put them in a bage (_bag_) of wullen clothe, made,
therefore, with the wynee; and lete it hange over a vessel, till the
wynee be run thorowe.”--_An extract from Arnold’s Chronicle._

It is a custom which almost universally prevails in the northern parts
of Europe, to present _a dram_ or glass of _liqueur_, before sitting
down to dinner: this answers the double purpose of a whet to the
appetite, and an announcement that dinner is on the point of being
served up. Along with the dram, are presented on a waiter, little square
pieces of cheese, slices of cold tongue, dried tongue, and dried toast,
accompanied with fresh _caviar_.

We again caution the cook to avoid over-seasoning, especially with
predominant flavours, which, however agreeable they may be to some, are
extremely disagreeable to others. See page 50.

Zest (No. 255), soy (No. 436), cavice, coratch, anchovy (No. 433), curry
powder (No. 455), savoury ragoût powder (No. 457), soup herb powder (No.
459 and 460), browning (No. 322), catchups (No. 432), pickle liquor,
beer, wine, and sweet herbs, and savoury spice (No. 460), are very
convenient auxiliaries to finish soups, &c.

The proportion of wine (formerly sack, then claret, now Madeira or port)
should not exceed a large wine-glassful to a quart of soup. This is as
much as can be admitted, without the vinous flavour becoming remarkably
predominant; though not only much larger quantities of wine (of which
claret is incomparably the best, because it contains less spirit and
more flavour, and English palates are less acquainted with it), but even
_véritable eau de vie_ is ordered in many books, and used by many
(especially tavern cooks). So much are their soups overloaded with
relish, that if you will eat enough of them they will certainly make you
drunk, if they don’t make you sick: all this frequently arises from an
old cook measuring the excitability of the eater’s palates by his own,
which may be so blunted by incessant tasting, that to awaken it,
requires wine instead of water, and Cayenne and garlic for black pepper
and onion.

Old cooks are as fond of _spice_, as children are of _sugar_, and season
soup, which is intended to constitute a principal part of a meal, as
highly as sauce, of which only a spoonful may be relish enough for a
plate of insipid viands. (See _obs._ to No. 355.) However, we fancy
these large quantities of wine, &c. are oftener ordered in cookery books
than used in the kitchen: practical cooks have the health of their
employers too much at heart, and love “_sauce à la langue_” too well to
overwine their soup, &c.

Truffles and morels[95-*] are also set down as a part of most receipts.
These, in their green state, have a very rich high flavour, and are
delicious additions to some dishes, or sent up as a stew by themselves
when they are fresh and fine; but in this state they are not served up
half a dozen times in a year at the first tables in the kingdom: when
dried they become mere “_chips in pottage_,” and serve only to soak up
good gravy, from which they take more taste than they give.

The art of composing a rich soup is so to proportion the several
ingredients one to another, that no particular taste be stronger than
the rest, but to produce such a fine harmonious relish that the whole is
delightful. This requires that judicious combination of the materials
which constitutes the “_chef d’œuvre_” of culinary science.

In the first place, take care that the roots and herbs be perfectly well
cleaned; proportion the water to the quantity of meat and other
ingredients, generally a pound of meat to a quart of water for soups,
and double that quantity for gravies. If they stew gently, little more
water need be put in at first than is expected at the end; for when the
pot is covered quite close, and the fire gentle, very little is wasted.

Gentle stewing is incomparably the best; the meat is more tender, and
the soup better flavoured.

It is of the first importance that the cover of a soup-kettle should fit
very close, or the broth will evaporate before you are aware of it. The
most essential parts are soon evaporated by quick boiling, without any
benefit, except to fatten the fortunate cook who inhales them. An
evident proof that these exhalations[96-*] possess the most restorative
qualities is, that THE COOK, who is in general the least eater, is, as
generally, the _fattest_ person in the family, from continually being
surrounded by the quintessence of all the food she dresses; whereof she
sends to HER MASTER only the fibres and calcinations, who is
consequently _thin_, _gouty_, and the victim of diseases arising from
insufficient nourishment.

It is not only the _fibres_ of the meat which nourish us, but the
_juices_ they contain, and these are not only extracted but exhaled, if
it be boiled fast in an open vessel. A succulent soup can never be made
but in a well-closed vessel, which preserves the nutritive parts by
preventing their dissipation. This is a fact of which every intelligent
person will soon perceive the importance.

Place your soup-pot over a moderate fire, which will make the water hot
without causing it to boil for at least half an hour; if the water boils
immediately, it will not penetrate the meat, and cleanse it from the
clotted blood, and other matters which ought to go off in scum; the meat
will be hardened all over by violent heat; will shrink up as if it was
scorched, and give hardly any gravy: on the contrary, by keeping the
water a certain time heating without boiling, the meat swells, becomes
tender, its fibres are dilated, and it yields a quantity of _scum_,
which must be taken off as soon as it appears.

It is not till after a good half hour’s hot infusion that we may mend
the fire, and make the pot boil: still continue to remove _the scum_;
and when no more appears, put in the vegetables, &c. and a little salt.
These will cause more _scum_ to rise, which must be taken off
immediately; then cover the pot very closely, and place it at a proper
distance from the fire, where it will boil very gently, and equally, and
by no means fast.

By quick and strong boiling the volatile and finest parts of the
ingredients are evaporated, and fly off with the steam, and the coarser
parts are rendered soluble; so you lose the good, and get the bad.

Soups will generally take from _three_ to _six_ hours.

Prepare your broths and soups the evening before you want them. This
will give you more time to attend to the rest of your dinner the next
day; and when the soup is cold, the _fat_ may be much more easily and
completely removed from the surface of it. When you decant it, take care
not to disturb the settlings at the bottom of the vessel, which are so
fine that they will escape through a sieve, or even through a TAMIS,
which is the best strainer, the soups appear smoother and finer, and it
is much easier cleaned than any sieve. If you strain it while it is hot,
pass it through a clean tamis or napkin, previously soaked in cold
water; the coldness of this will coagulate the fat, and only suffer the
pure broth to pass through.

The full flavour of the ingredients can only be extracted by very long
and slow simmering; during which take care to prevent evaporation, by
covering the pot as close as possible: the best stew-pot is a digester.

Clear soups must be perfectly transparent; thickened soups, about the
consistence of rich cream; and remember that thickened soups require
nearly double the quantity of seasoning. The _piquance_ of spice, &c. is
as much blunted by the flour and butter, as the spirit of rum is by the
addition of sugar and acid: so they are less salubrious, without being
more savoury, from the additional quantity of spice, &c. that is
smuggled into the stomach.

To thicken and give body to soups and sauces, the following materials
are used: they must be gradually mixed with the soup till thoroughly
incorporated with it; and it should have at least half an hour’s gentle
simmering after: if it is at all lumpy, pass it through a tamis or a
fine sieve. Bread raspings, bread, isinglass, potato mucilage (No. 448),
flour, or fat skimmings and flour (see No. 248), or flour and butter,
barley (see No. 204), rice, or oatmeal and water rubbed well together,
(see No. 257, in which this subject is fully explained.)

To give that _glutinous_ quality so much admired in _mock turtle_, see
No. 198, and note under No. 247, No. 252, and N.B. to No. 481.

To their very rich gravies, &c. the French add the white meat of
partridges, pigeons, or fowls, pounded to a pulp, and rubbed through a
sieve. A piece of beef, which has been boiled to make broth, pounded in
the like manner with a bit of butter and flour, see _obs._ to No. 485*
and No. 503, and gradually incorporated with the gravy or soup, will be
found a satisfactory substitute for these more expensive articles.

Meat from which broth has been made (No. 185, and No. 252), and all its
juice has been extracted, is then excellently well prepared for POTTING,
(see No. 503), and is quite as good, or better, than that which has been
baked till it is dry;[98-*] indeed, if it be pounded, and seasoned in
the usual manner, it will be an elegant and savoury luncheon, or supper,
and costs nothing but the trouble of preparing it, which is very little,
and a relish is procured for sandwiches, &c. (No. 504) of what
heretofore has been by the poorest housekeeper considered _the
perquisite of the_ CAT.

Keep some spare broth lest your soup-liquor waste in boiling, and get
too thick, and for gravy for your made dishes, various sauces, &c.; for
many of which it is a much better basis than melted butter.

The soup of mock turtle, and the other thickened soups, (No. 247), will
supply you with a thick gravy sauce for _poultry_, _fish_, _ragoûts_,
&c.; and by a little management of this sort, you may generally contrive
to have plenty of good gravies and good sauces with very little trouble
or expense. See also _Portable Soup_ (No. 252).

If soup is too thin or too weak, take off the cover of your soup-pot,
and let it boil till some of the watery part of it has evaporated, or
else add some of the thickening materials we have before mentioned; and
have at hand some plain browning: see No. 322, and the _obs._ thereon.
This simple preparation is much better than any of the compounds bearing
that name; as it colours sauce or soup without much interfering with its
flavour, and is a much better way of colouring them than burning the
surface of the meat.

When soups and gravies are kept from day to day, _in hot weather_, they
should be warmed up every day, and put into fresh-scalded tureens or
pans, and placed in a cool cellar; in temperate weather every other day
may be enough.

We hope we have now put the common cook into possession of the whole
_arcana_ of soup-making, without much trouble to herself, or expense to
her employers. It need not be said in future that an Englishman only
knows how to make soup in his stomach, by swilling down a large quantity
of ale or porter, to quench the thirst occasioned by the meat he eats.
JOHN BULL may now make his soup “_secundùm artem_,” and save his
principal viscera a great deal of trouble.

⁂ In the following receipts we have directed the spices[99-*] and
flavouring to be added at the usual time; but it would greatly diminish
the expense, and improve the soups, if the agents employed to give them
a zest were not put in above fifteen minutes before the finish, and half
the quantity of spice, &c. would do. A strong heat soon dissipates the
spirit of the wine, and evaporates the aroma and flavour of the spices
and herbs, which are volatile in the heat of boiling water.

In ordering the proportions of meat, butter, wine, &c. the proper
quantity is set down, and less will not do: we have carried economy
quite as far as possible without “spoiling the broth for a halfpenny
worth of salt.”

I conclude these remarks with observing, that some persons imagine that
soup tends to relax the stomach. So far from being prejudicial, we
consider the moderate use of such liquid nourishment to be highly
salutary. Does not our food and drink, even though cold, become in a few
minutes a kind of warm soup in the stomach? and therefore soup, if not
eaten too hot, or in too great a quantity, and of proper quality, is
attended with great advantages, especially to those who drink but
little.

Warm fluids, in the form of soup, unite with our juices much sooner and
better than those that are cold and raw: on this account, RESTORATIVE
SOUP is the best food for those who are enfeebled by disease or
dissipation, and for old people, whose teeth and digestive organs are
impaired.

“Half subtilized to chyle, the liquid food
Readiest obeys th’ assimilating powers.”

After catching cold, in nervous headaches, cholics, indigestions, and
different kinds of cramp and spasms in the stomach, warm broth is of
excellent service.

After intemperate feasting, to give the stomach a holyday for a day or
two by a diet on mutton broth (No. 564, or No. 572), or vegetable soup
(No. 218), &c. is the best way to restore its tone. “The stretching any
power to its utmost extent weakens it. If the stomach be every day
obliged to do as much as it can, it will every day be able to do less. A
wise traveller will never force his horse to perform as much as he can
in one day upon a long journey.”--Father FEYJOO’S _Rules_, p. 85.

To WARM SOUPS, &c. (No. 485.)

N.B. With the PORTABLE SOUP (No. 252), a pint of broth may be made in
five minutes for threepence.

FOOTNOTES:

[89-*] We prefer the form of a stew-pan to the soup-pot; the former is
more convenient to skim: the most useful size is 12 inches diameter by 6
inches deep: this we would have of silver, or iron, or copper, lined
(not plated) with silver.

[89-+] This may be always avoided by browning your meat in the
frying-pan; it is the browning of the meat that destroys the stew-pan.

[90-*] In general, it has been considered the best economy to use the
cheapest and most inferior meats for soup, &c., and to boil it down till
it is entirely destroyed, and hardly worth putting into the hog-tub.
This is a false frugality: buy good pieces of meat, and only stew them
till they are done enough to be eaten.

[91-*] MUSHROOM CATCHUP, made as No. 439, or No. 440, will answer all
the purposes of mushrooms in soup or sauce, and no store-room should be
without a stock of it.

[91-+] All cooks agree in this opinion,
_No savoury dish without an_ ONION.

_Sliced onions fried_, (see No. 299, and note under No. 517), with some
butter and flour, till they are browned (and rubbed through a sieve),
are excellent to heighten the colour and flavour of brown soups and
sauces, and form the basis of most of the relishes furnished by the
“_Restaurateurs_”--as we guess from the odour which ascends from their
kitchens, and salutes our olfactory nerves “_en passant_.”

The older and drier the onion, the stronger its flavour; and the cook
will regulate the quantity she uses accordingly.

[92-*] Burnet has exactly the same flavour as cucumber. See Burnet
vinegar (No. 399).

[92-+] The concentration of flavour in CELERY and CRESS SEED is such,
that half a drachm of it (_finely pounded_), or double the quantity if
not ground or pounded, _costing only one-third of a farthing_, will
impregnate half a gallon of soup with almost as much relish as two or
three heads of the fresh vegetable, weighing seven ounces, and costing
_twopence_. This valuable acquisition to the soup-pot deserves to be
universally known. See also No. 409, essence of CELERY. This is the most
frugal relish we have to introduce to the economist: but that our
judgment in palates may not be called in question by our fellow-mortals,
who, as the _Craniologists_ say, happen to have the _organ of taste_
stronger than the _organ of accumulativeness_, we must confess, that,
with the flavour it does not impart the delicate sweetness, &c. of the
fresh vegetable; and when used, a bit of sugar should accompany it.

[92-++] See No. 419, No. 420, and No. 459. Fresh green BASIL is seldom
to be procured. When dried, much of its fine flavour is lost, which is
fully extracted by pouring wine on the fresh leaves (see No. 397).

To procure and preserve the flavour of SWEET AND SAVOURY HERBS, celery,
&c. these must be dried, &c. at home (see No. 417* and No. 461).

[92-§] See No. 421 and No. 457. Sir Hans Sloane, in the Phil. Trans.
Abr. vol. xi. p. 667, says, “_Pimento_, the spice of Jamaica, or
ALLSPICE, so called, from having a flavour composed as it were of
cloves, cinnamon, nutmegs, and pepper, may deservedly be counted the
best and most temperate, mild, and innocent of common spices, almost all
of which it far surpasses, by promoting the digestion of meat, and
moderately heating and strengthening the stomach, and doing those
friendly offices to the bowels, we generally expect from spices.” We
have always been of the same opinion as Sir Hans, and believe the only
reason why it is the least esteemed spice is, because it is the
cheapest. “What folks get easy they never enjoy.”

[92-||] If you have not fresh orange or lemon-juice, or Coxwell’s
crystallized lemon acid, _the artificial lemon juice_ (No. 407) is a
good substitute for it.

[92-¶] The _juice_ of the SEVILLE ORANGE is to be preferred to that of
the LEMON, the flavour is finer, and the acid milder.

[93-*] The erudite editor of the “_Almanach des Gourmands_,” vol. ii. p.
30, tells us, that ten folio volumes would not contain the receipts of
all the soups that have been invented in that grand school of good
eating,--the Parisian kitchen.

[93-+] “_Point de Légumes_, _point de Cuisinière_,” is a favourite
culinary adage of the French kitchen, and deserves to be so: a better
soup may be made with a couple of pounds of meat and plenty of
vegetables, than our common cooks will make you with four times that
quantity of meat; all for want of knowing the uses of soup roots, and
sweet and savoury herbs.

[93-++] Many a good dish is spoiled, by the cook not knowing the proper
use of this, which is to give a flavour, and not to be predominant over
the other ingredients: a morsel mashed with the point of a knife, and
stirred in, is enough. See No. 402.

[93-§] Foreigners have strange notions of English taste, on which one of
their culinary professors has made the following comment: “the organ of
taste in these ISLANDERS is very different from _our delicate palates_;
and sauce that would excoriate the palate of a Frenchman, would be
hardly _piquante_ enough to make any impression on that of an
Englishman; thus they prefer port to claret,” &c. As far as concerns our
drinking, we wish there was not quite so much truth in _Monsieur’s_
remarks, but the characteristic of the French and English kitchen is
_sauce without substance_, and _substance without sauce_.

To make CAYENNE of English chillies, of infinitely finer flavour than
the Indian, see No. 404.

[95-*] We tried to make catchup of these by treating them like mushrooms
(No. 439), but did not succeed.

[96-*] “A poor man, being very hungry, staid so long in a cook’s shop,
who was dishing up meat, that his stomach was satisfied with only the
smell thereof. The choleric cook demanded of him to pay for his
breakfast; the poor man denied having had any, and the controversy was
referred to the deciding of the next man that should pass by, who
chanced to be the most notorious idiot in the whole city: he, on the
relation of the matter, determined that the poor man’s money should be
put between two empty dishes, and the cook should be recompensed with
the jingling of the poor man’s money, as he was satisfied with the smell
of the cook’s meat.” This is affirmed by credible writers as no fable,
but an undoubted truth.--FULLER’S _Holy State_, lib. iii. c. 12, p. 20.

[98-*] If the gravy be not completely drained from it, the article
potted will very soon turn sour.

[99-*] Economists recommend these to be pounded; they certainly go
farther, as they call it; but we think they go too far, for they go
through the sieve, and make the soup grouty.

CHAPTER VIII.

GRAVIES AND SAUCES.

“The spirit of each dish, and ZEST of all,
Is what ingenious cooks the relish call;
For though the market sends in loads of food,
They are all tasteless, till that makes them good.”

KING’S _Art of Cookery_.

“_Ex parvis componere magna._”

It is of as much importance that the cook should know how to make a boat
of good gravy for her poultry, &c. as that it should be sent up of
proper complexion, and nicely frothed.

In this chapter, we shall endeavour to introduce to her all the
materials[101-*] which give flavour in _sauce_, which is the _essence of
soup_, and intended to contain more relish in a _tea-spoonful_ than the
former does in a _table-spoonful_.

We hope to deserve as much praise from the _economist_ as we do from the
_bon vivant_; as we have taken great pains to introduce to him the
methods of making substitutes for those ingredients, which are always
expensive, and often not to be had at all. Many of these cheap articles
are as savoury and as salutary as the dearer ones, and those who have
large families and limited incomes, will, no doubt, be glad to avail
themselves of them.

The reader may rest assured, that whether he consults this book to
diminish the expense or increase the pleasures of hospitality, he will
find all the information that was to be obtained up to 1826,
communicated in the most unreserved and intelligible manner.

A great deal of the elegance of cookery depends upon the accompaniments
to each dish being appropriate and well adapted to it.

We can assure our readers, no attention has been wanting on our part to
render this department of the work worthy of their perusal; each receipt
is the faithful narrative of actual and repeated experiments, and has
received the most deliberate consideration before it was here presented
to them. It is given in the most circumstantial manner, and not in the
technical and mysterious language former writers on these subjects seem
to have preferred; by which their directions are useless and
unintelligible to all who have not regularly served an apprenticeship at
the stove.

Thus, instead of accurately enumerating the quantities, and explaining
the process of each composition, they order a ladleful of _stock_, a
pint of _consommé_, and a spoonful of _cullis_; as if a private-family
cook had always at hand a soup-kettle full of _stock_, a store of
_consommé_, and the larder of _Albion house_, and the _spoons_ and
_pennyworths_ were the same in all ages.

It will be to very little purpose that I have taken so much pains to
teach how to manage roasts and boils, if a cook cannot or will not make
the several sauces that are usually sent up with them.

The most homely fare may be made relishing, and the most excellent and
independent improved by a well-made sauce;[102-*] as the most perfect
picture may, by being well varnished.

We have, therefore, endeavoured to give the plainest directions how to
produce, with the least trouble and expense[102-+] possible, all the
various compositions the English kitchen affords; and hope to present
such a wholesome and palatable variety as will suit all tastes and all
pockets, so that a cook may give satisfaction in all families. The more
combinations of this sort she is acquainted with, the better she will
comprehend the management of every one of them.

We have rejected some _outlandish farragoes_, from a conviction that
they were by no means adapted to an English palate. If they have been
received into some English books, for the sake of swelling the volume,
we believe they will never be received by an Englishman’s stomach,
unless for the reason they were admitted into the cookery book, _i. e._
because he has nothing else to put into it.

However “_les pompeuses bagatelles de la Cuisine Masquée_” may tickle
the fancy of _demi-connoisseurs_, who, leaving the substance to pursue
the shadow, prefer wonderful and whimsical metamorphoses, and things
extravagantly expensive to those which are intrinsically excellent; in
whose mouth mutton can hardly hope for a welcome, unless accompanied by
venison sauce; or a rabbit, any chance for a race down the red lane,
without assuming the form of a frog or a spider; or pork, without being
either “_goosified_” or “_lambified_” (see No. 51); and game and
poultry in the shape of crawfish or hedgehogs; these travesties rather
show the patience than the science of the cook, and the bad taste of
those who prefer such baby-tricks to nourishing and substantial plain
cookery.

I could have made this the biggest book with half the trouble it has
taken me to make it the best: concentration and perspicuity have been my
aim.

As much pains have been taken in describing, in the most intelligible
manner, how to make, in the easiest, most agreeable, and economical way,
those common sauces that daily contribute to the comfort of the middle
ranks of society; as in directing the preparation of those extravagant
and elaborate double relishes, the most ingenious and accomplished
“_officers of the mouth_” have invented for the amusement of profound
palaticians, and thorough-bred _grands gourmands_ of the first
magnitude: these we have so reduced the trouble and expense of making,
as to bring them within the reach of moderate fortunes; still preserving
all that is valuable of their taste and qualities; so ordering them,
that they may delight the palate, without disordering the stomach, by
leaving out those inflammatory ingredients which are only fit for an
“iron throat and adamantine bowels,” and those costly materials which no
rational being would destroy, for the wanton purpose of merely giving a
fine name to the compositions they enter into, to whose excellence they
contribute nothing else. For instance, consuming _two_ partridges to
make sauce for _one_: half a pint of game gravy (No. 329,) will be
infinitely more acceptable to the unsophisticated appetite of
Englishmen, for whose proper and rational recreation we sat down to
compose these receipts; whose approbation we have done our utmost to
deserve, by devoting much time to the business of the kitchen; and by
repeating the various processes that we thought admitted of the smallest
improvement.

We shall be fully gratified, if our book is not bought up with quite so
much avidity by those high-bred epicures, who are unhappily so much more
nice than wise, that they cannot eat any thing dressed by an English
cook; and vote it barbarously unrefined and intolerably ungenteel, to
endure the sight of the best bill of fare that can be contrived, if
written in the vulgar tongue of old England.[103-*]

Let your sauces each display a decided character; send up your plain
sauces (oyster, lobster, &c.) as pure as possible: they should only
taste of the materials from which they take their name.

The imagination of most cooks is so incessantly on the hunt for a
relish, that they seem to think they cannot make sauce sufficiently
savoury without putting into it every thing that ever was eaten; and
supposing every addition must be an improvement, they frequently
overpower the natural flavour of their PLAIN SAUCES, by overloading them
with salt and spices, &c.: but, remember, these will be deteriorated by
any addition, save only just salt enough to awaken the palate. The lover
of “_piquance_” and compound flavours, may have recourse to “_the
Magazine of Taste_,” No. 462.

On the contrary, of COMPOUND SAUCES; the ingredients should be so nicely
proportioned, that no one be predominant; so that from the equal union
of the combined flavours such a fine mellow mixture is produced, whose
very novelty cannot fail of being acceptable to the persevering
_gourmand_, if it has not pretensions to a permanent place at his table.

An ingenious _cook_ will form as endless a variety of these compositions
as a _musician_ with his seven[104-*] notes, or a _painter_ with his
colours; no part of her business offers so fair and frequent an
opportunity to display her abilities: SPICES, HERBS, &c. are often very
absurdly and injudiciously jumbled together.

Why have clove and allspice, or mace and nutmeg, in the same sauce; or
marjoram, thyme, and savoury; or onions, leeks, eschalots, and garlic?
one will very well supply the place of the other, and the frugal cook
may save something considerable by attending to this, to the advantage
of her employers, and her own time and trouble. You might as well, to
make soup, order one quart of water from the _Thames_, another from the
_New River_, a third from _Hampstead_, and a fourth from _Chelsea_, with
a certain portion of _spring_ and _rain_ water.

In many of our receipts we have fallen in with the fashion of ordering a
mixture of spices, &c., which the above hint will enable the culinary
student to correct.

“PHARMACY is now much more simple; COOKERY may be made so too. A
prescription which is now compounded with five ingredients, had formerly
fifty in it: people begin to understand that the materia medica is
little more than a collection of evacuants and stimuli.”--_Boswell’s
Life of Johnson._

The _ragoûts of the last century_ had infinitely more ingredients than
we use now; the praise given to _Will. Rabisha_ for his Cookery, 12mo.
1673, is

“To fry and fricassee, his way’s most neat,
For he compounds a thousand sorts of meat.”

To become a perfect mistress of the art of cleverly extracting and
combining flavours,[105-*] besides the gift of a good taste, requires
all the experience and skill of the most accomplished professor, and,
especially, an intimate acquaintance with the palate she is working for.

Send your sauces to table as hot as possible.

Nothing can be more unsightly than the surface of a sauce in a frozen
state, or garnished with grease on the top. The best way to get rid of
this, is to pass it through a tamis or napkin previously soaked in cold
water; the coldness of the napkin will coagulate the fat, and only
suffer the pure gravy to pass through: if any particles of fat remain,
take them off by applying filtering paper, as blotting paper is applied
to writing.

Let your sauces boil up after you put in wine, anchovy, or thickening,
that their flavours may be well blended with the other ingredients;[105-+]
and keep in mind that the “_chef-d’œuvre_” of COOKERY is, to entertain
the mouth without offending the stomach.

N.B. Although I have endeavoured to give the particular quantity of each
ingredient used in the following sauces, as they are generally made;
still the cook’s judgment must direct her to lessen or increase either
of the ingredients, according to the taste of those she works for, and
will always be on the alert to ascertain what are the favourite
_accompaniments_ desired with each dish. See _Advice to Cooks_, page 50.

When you open a bottle of _catchup_ (No. 439), _essence of anchovy_ (No.
433), &c., throw away the old cork, and stop it closely with a new cork
that will fit it very tight. Use only the best superfine velvet
taper-corks.

Economy in corks is extremely unwise: in order to save a mere trifle in
the price of the cork, you run the risk of losing the valuable article
it is intended to preserve.

It is a _vulgar error_ that a bottle must be well stopped, when the cork
is forced down even with the mouth of it; it is rather a sign that the
cork is too small, and it should be redrawn and a larger one put in.

_To make bottle-cement._

Half a pound of black resin, same quantity of red sealing-wax, quarter
oz. bees’ wax, melted in an earthen or iron pot; when it froths up,
before all is melted and likely to boil over, stir it with a tallow
candle, which will settle the froth till all is melted and fit for use.
Red wax, 10_d._ per lb. may be bought at Mr. Dew’s Blackmore-street,
Clare-market.

N.B. This cement is of very great use in preserving things that you wish
to keep a long time, which without its help would soon spoil, from the
clumsy and ineffectual manner in which the bottles are corked.

FOOTNOTES:

[101-*] See, in pages 91, 92, A CATALOGUE OF THE INGREDIENTS now used in
soups, sauces, &c.

[102-*] “It is the duty of a good sauce,” says the editor of the
_Almanach des Gourmands_ (vol. v. page 6), “to insinuate itself all
round and about the maxillary gland, and imperceptibly awaken into
activity each ramification of the organs of taste: if not sufficiently
savoury, it cannot produce this effect, and if too _piquante_, it will
paralyze, instead of exciting, those delicious titillations of tongue
and vibrations of palate, that only the most accomplished philosophers
of the mouth can produce on the highly-educated palates of thrice happy
_grands gourmands_.”

[102-+] To save time and trouble is the most valuable frugality: and if
the mistress of a family will condescend to devote a little time to the
profitable and pleasant employment of preparing some of the STORE
SAUCES, especially Nos. 322. 402. 404. 413. 429. 433. 439. 454; these,
both epicures and economists will avail themselves of the advantage now
given them, of preparing at home.

By the help of these, many dishes may be dressed in half the usual time,
and with half the trouble and expense, and flavoured and finished with
much more certainty than by the common methods.

A small portion of the time which young ladies sacrifice to torturing
the strings of their _piano-forte_, employed in obtaining domestic
accomplishments, might not make them worse wives, or less agreeable
companions to their husbands. This was the opinion 200 years ago.

“To speak, then, of the knowledge which belongs unto our British
housewife, I hold the most principal to be a perfect skill in COOKERY:
she that is utterly ignorant therein, may not, by the lawes of strict
justice, challenge the freedom of marriage, because indeede she can
perform but half her vow: she may love and obey, but she cannot cherish
and keepe her husband.”--G. MARKHAM’S _English Housewife_, 4to. 1637, p.
62.

We hope our fair readers will forgive us, for telling them that economy
in a wife, is the most certain charm to ensure the affection and
industry of a husband.

[103-*] Though some of these people seem at last to have found out, that
an Englishman’s head may be as full of gravy as a Frenchman’s, and
willing to give the preference to native talent, retain an Englishman or
woman as prime minister of their kitchen; still they seem ashamed to
confess it, and commonly insist as a “_sine quâ non_,” that their
English domestics should understand the “_parlez vous_;” and
notwithstanding they are perfectly initiated in all the minutiæ of the
philosophy of the mouth, consider them uneligible, if they cannot
scribble _a bill of fare in pretty good bad French_.

[104-*] The principal agents now employed to flavour soups and sauces
are, MUSHROOMS (No. 439), ONIONS (No. 420), ANCHOVY (No. 433),
LEMON-JUICE and PEEL, or VINEGAR, WINE, (especially good CLARET), SWEET
HERBS, and SAVOURY SPICES.--Nos. 420-422, and 457. 459, 460.

[105-*] If your palate becomes dull by repeatedly tasting, the best way
to refresh it is to wash your mouth well with milk.

[105-+] Before you put eggs or cream into a sauce, have all your other
ingredients well boiled, and the sauce or soup of proper thickness;
because neither eggs nor cream will contribute to thicken it.--After you
have put them in, do not set the stew-pan on the stove again, but hold
it over the fire, and shake it round one way till the sauce is ready.

CHAPTER IX.

MADE DISHES.

Under this general head we range our receipts for HASHES, STEWS, and
RAGOUTS,[106-*] &c. Of these there are a great multitude, affording the
ingenious cook an inexhaustible store of variety: in the French kitchen
they count upwards of 600, and are daily inventing new ones.

We have very few general observations to make, after what we have
already said in the two preceding chapters on _sauces_, _soups_, &c.,
which apply to the present chapter, as they form the principal part of
the accompaniment of most of these dishes. In fact, MADE DISHES are
nothing more than meat, poultry (No. 530), or fish (Nos. 146, 158, or
164), stewed very gently till they are tender, with a thickened sauce
poured over them.

Be careful to trim off all the skin, gristle, &c. that will not be
eaten; and shape handsomely, and of even thickness, the various articles
which compose your made dishes: this is sadly neglected by common cooks.
Only stew them till they are just tender, and do not stew them to rags;
therefore, what you prepare the day before it is to be eaten, do not
dress quite enough the first day.

We have given receipts for the most easy and simple way to make HASHES,
&c. Those who are well skilled in culinary arts can dress up things in
this way, so as to be as agreeable as they were the first time they were
cooked. But hashing is a very bad mode of cookery: if meat has been done
enough the first time it is dressed, a second dressing will divest it of
all its nutritive juices; and if it can be smuggled into the stomach by
bribing the palate with _piquante_ sauce, it is at the hazard of an
indigestion, &c.

I promise those who do me the honour to put my receipts into practice,
that they will find that the most nutritious and truly elegant dishes
are neither the most difficult to dress, the most expensive, nor the
most indigestible. In these compositions experience will go far to
diminish expense: meat that is too old or too tough for roasting, &c.,
may by gentle stewing be rendered savoury and tender. If some of our
receipts do differ a little from those in former cookery books, let it
be remembered we have advanced nothing in this work that has not been
tried, and experience has proved correct.

N.B. See No. 483, an ingenious and economical system of FRENCH COOKERY,
written at the request of the editor by an accomplished ENGLISH LADY,
which will teach you how to supply your table with elegant little made
dishes, &c. at as little expense as plain cookery.

FOOTNOTES:

[106-*] Sauce for ragoûts, &c., should be thickened till it is of the
consistence of good rich cream, that it may adhere to whatever it is
poured over. When you have a large dinner to dress, keep ready-mixed
some fine-sifted flour and water well rubbed together till quite smooth,
and about as thick as butter. See No. 257.

THE

COOK’S ORACLE.

BOILING.

[Read the first chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery.]

_Leg of Mutton._--(No. 1.)

Cut off the shank bone, and trim the knuckle, put it into lukewarm water
for ten minutes, wash it clean, cover it with cold water, and let it
simmer _very gently_, and skim it carefully. A leg of nine pounds will
take two and a half or three hours, if you like it thoroughly done,
especially in very cold weather.

For the accompaniments, see the following receipt.

N.B. The _tit-bits_ with an epicure are the “knuckle,” the kernel,
called the “_pope’s eye_,” and the “_gentleman’s_” or “_cramp bone_,”
or, as it is called in Kent, the “CAW CAW,” four of these and a bounder
furnish the little masters and mistresses of Kent with their most
favourite set of playthings.

A leg of mutton stewed _very slowly_, as we have directed the beef to be
(No. 493), will be as agreeable to an English appetite as the famous
“_gigot[108-*] de sept heures_” of the French kitchen is to a Parisian
palate.

When mutton is very large, you may divide it, and _roast the fillet_, i.
e. the large end, and _boil the knuckle end_; you may also cut some fine
cutlets off the thick end of the leg, _and so have two or three good hot
dinners_. See Mrs. MAKEITDO’S receipt how to make a leg of mutton last a
week, in “_the housekeeper’s leger_,” printed for Whittaker, Ave-Maria
Lane.

_The liquor the mutton is boiled in_, you may convert into good soup in
five minutes, (see N.B. to No. 218,) and Scotch barley broth (No. 204).
Thus managed, a leg of mutton is a most economical joint.

_Neck of Mutton._--(No. 2.)

Put four or five pounds of the best end of a neck (that has been kept a
few days) into as much cold soft water as will cover it, and about two
inches over; let it simmer very slowly for two hours: it will look most
delicate if you do not take off the skin till it has been boiled.

For sauce, that elegant and innocent relish, parsley and butter (No.
261), or eschalot (No. 294 or 5), or caper sauce (No. 274), mock caper
sauce (No. 275), and onion sauce (No. 298), turnips (No. 130), or
spinage (No. 121), are the usual accompaniments to boiled mutton.

_Lamb._--(No. 3.)

A leg of five pounds should simmer very gently for about two hours, from
the time it is put on, in cold water. After the general rules for
boiling, in the first chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery, we have
nothing to add, only to send up with it spinage (No. 122), broccoli (No.
126), cauliflower (No. 125), &c., and for sauce, No. 261.

_Veal._--(No. 4.)

This is expected to come to table looking delicately clean; and it is so
easily discoloured, that you must be careful to have clean water, a
clean vessel, and constantly catch the scum as soon and as long as it
rises, and attend to the directions before given in the first chapter of
the Rudiments of Cookery. Send up bacon (No. 13), fried sausages (No.
87), or pickled pork, greens, (No. 118 and following Nos.) and parsley
and butter (No. 261), onion sauce (No. 298).

N.B. For receipts to cook veal, see from No. 512 to No. 521.

_Beef bouilli_,--(No. 5.)

In plain English, is understood to mean boiled beef; but its culinary
acceptation, in the French kitchen, is fresh beef dressed without
boiling, and only very gently simmered by a slow fire.

Cooks have seldom any notion, that good soup can be made without
destroying a great deal of meat; however, by a judicious regulation of
the fire, and a vigilant attendance on the soup-kettle, this may be
accomplished. You shall have a tureen of such soup as will satisfy the
most fastidious palate, and the meat make its appearance at table, at
the same time, in possession of a full portion of nutritious
succulence.

This requires nothing more than to stew the meat very slowly (instead of
keeping the pot boiling a gallop, as common cooks too commonly do), and
to take it up as soon as it is done enough. See “Soup and bouilli” (No.
238), “Shin of beef stewed” (No. 493), “Scotch barley broth” (No. 204).

Meat cooked in this manner affords much more nourishment than it does
dressed in the common way, is easy of digestion in proportion as it is
tender, and an invigorating, substantial diet, especially valuable to
the poor, whose laborious employments require support.

If they could get good eating put within their reach, they would often
go to the butcher’s shop, when they now run to the public-house.

Among the variety of schemes that have been suggested for bettering the
condition of the poor, a more useful or extensive charity cannot be
devised, than that of instructing them in economical and comfortable
cookery, except providing them with spectacles.

“The poor in Scotland, and on the Continent, manage much better. Oatmeal
porridge (Nos. 205 and 572) and milk, constitute the breakfast and
supper of those patterns of industry, frugality, and temperance, the
Scottish peasantry.

“When they can afford meat, they form with it a large quantity of barley
broth (No. 204), with a variety of vegetables, by boiling the whole a
long time, enough to serve the family for several days.

“When they cannot afford meat, they make broth of barley and other
vegetables, with a lump of butter (see No. 229), all of which they boil
for many hours, and this with oat cakes forms their dinner.” COCHRANE’S
_Seaman’s Guide_, p. 34.

The cheapest method of making a nourishing soup is least known to those
who have most need of it. (See No. 229.)

Our neighbours the French are so justly famous for their skill in the
affairs of the kitchen, that the adage says, “as many Frenchmen as many
cooks:” surrounded as they are by a profusion of the most delicious
wines and most seducing _liqueurs_, offering every temptation and
facility to render drunkenness delightful: yet a tippling Frenchman is a
“_rara avis_;” they know how so easily and completely to keep life in
repair by good eating, that they require little or no adjustment from
drinking.

This accounts for that “_toujours gai_,” and happy equilibrium of
spirits, which they enjoy with more regularity than any people. Their
stomach, being unimpaired by spirituous liquors, embrace and digest
vigorously the food they sagaciously prepare for it, and render easily
assimilable by cooking it sufficiently, wisely contriving to get the
difficult part of the work of the stomach done by fire and water.

_To salt Meat._--(No. 6.)

In the _summer_ season, especially, meat is frequently spoiled by the
cook forgetting to take out the kernels; one in the udder of a round of
beef, in the fat in the middle of the round, those about the thick end
of the flank, &c.: if these are not taken out, all the salt in the world
will not keep the meat.

The art of salting meat is to rub in the salt thoroughly and evenly into
every part, and to fill all the holes full of salt where the kernels
were taken out, and where the butcher’s skewers were.

A round of beef of 25 pounds will take a pound and a half of salt to be
rubbed in all at first, and requires to be turned and rubbed every day
with the brine; it will be ready for dressing in four or five
days,[111-*] if you do not wish it very salt.

In _summer_, the sooner meat is salted after it is killed the better;
and care must be taken to defend it from the flies.

In _winter_, it will eat the shorter and tenderer, if kept a few days
(according to the temperature of the weather) until its fibre has become
short and tender, as these changes do not take place after it has been
acted upon by the salt.

In frosty weather, take care the meat is not frozen, and warm the salt
in a frying-pan. The extremes of heat[111-+] and cold are equally
unfavourable for the process of salting. In the former, the meat changes
before the salt can affect it: in the latter, it is so hardened, and its
juices are so congealed, that the salt cannot penetrate it.

If you wish it red, rub it first with saltpetre, in the proportion of
half an ounce, and the like quantity of moist sugar, to a pound of
common salt. (See Savoury salt beef, No. 496.)

You may impregnate meat with a very agreeable vegetable flavour, by
pounding some sweet herbs (No. 459,) and an onion with the salt. You may
make it still more relishing by adding a little ZEST (No. 255), or
_savoury spice_ (No. 457).

_To pickle Meat._

“Six pounds of salt, one pound of sugar, and four ounces of saltpetre,
boiled with four gallons of water, skimmed, and allowed to cool, forms a
very strong pickle, which will preserve any meat completely immersed in
it. To effect this, which is essential, either a heavy board or a flat
stone must be laid upon the meat. The same pickle may be used
repeatedly, provided it be boiled up occasionally with additional salt
to restore its strength, diminished by the combination of part of the
salt with the meat, and by the dilution of the pickle by the juices of
the meat extracted. By boiling, the albumen, which would cause the
pickle to spoil, is coagulated, and rises in the form of scum, which
must be carefully removed.”--See _Supplement to Encyclop. Britan._ vol.
iv. p. 340.

Meat kept immersed in pickle gains weight. In one experiment by Messrs.
Donkin and Gamble, there was a gain of three per cent., and in another
of two and a half; but in the common way of salting, when the meat is
not immersed in pickle, there is a loss of about one pound, or one and a
half, in sixteen. See Dr. Wilkinson’s account of the preserving power of
PYRO-LIGNEOUS ACID, &c. in the Philosophical Magazine for 1821, No. 273,
p. 12.

An H-bone of 10 or 12 pounds weight will require about three-quarters of
a pound of salt, and an ounce of moist sugar, to be well rubbed into it.
It will be ready in four or five days, if turned and rubbed every day.

The time meat requires salting depends upon the weight of it, and how
much salt is used: and if it be rubbed in with a heavy hand, it will be
ready much sooner than if only lightly rubbed.

N. B. Dry the salt, and rub it with the sugar in a mortar.

PORK requires a longer time to cure (in proportion to its weight) than
beef. A leg of pork should be in salt eight or ten days; turn it and rub
it every day.

Salt meat should be well washed before it is boiled, especially if it
has been in salt long, that the liquor in which the meat is boiled, may
not be too salt to make soup of. (No. 218, &c. and No. 555.)

If it has been in salt a long time, and you fear that it will be too
salt, wash it well in cold water, and soak it in lukewarm water for a
couple of hours. If it is _very salt_, lay it in water the night before
you intend to dress it.

_A Round of salted Beef._--(No. 7.)

As this is too large for a moderate family, we shall write directions
for the dressing half a round. Get the tongue side.

Skewer it up tight and round, and tie a fillet of broad tape round it,
to keep the skewers in their places.

Put it into plenty of cold water, and carefully catch the scum as soon
as it rises: let it boil till all the scum is removed, and then put the
boiler on one side of the fire, to keep _simmering_ slowly till it is
done.

Half a round of 15lbs. will take about three hours: if it weighs more,
give it more time.

When you take it up, if any stray scum, &c. sticks to it that has
escaped the vigilance of your skimmer, wash it off with a paste-brush:
garnish the dishes with carrots and turnips. Send up carrots (No. 129),
turnips (No. 130), and parsnips, or greens (No. 118), &c. on separate
dishes. Pease pudding (No. 555), and MY PUDDING (No. 551), are all very
proper accompaniments.

N.B. The outside slices, which are generally too much salted and too
much boiled, will make a very good relish as potted beef (No. 503). For
using up the remains of a joint of boiled beef, see also Bubble and
Squeak (No. 505).

_H-Bone of Beef_,--(No. 8.)

Is to be managed in exactly the same manner as the round, but will be
sooner boiled, as it is not so solid. An H-bone of 20lbs. will be done
enough in about four hours; of 10lbs. in three hours, more or less, as
the weather is hotter or colder. Be sure the boiler is big enough to
allow it plenty of water-room: let it be well covered with water: set
the pot on one side of the fire to boil gently: if it boils quick at
first, no art can make it tender after. The slower it boils, the better
it will look, and the tenderer it will be. The same accompanying
vegetables as in the preceding receipt. Dress plenty of carrots, as cold
carrots are a general favourite with cold beef.

_Mem._--Epicures say, that the _soft_, fat-like marrow, which lies on
the back, is delicious when hot, and the _hard_ fat about the upper
corner is best when cold.

To make PERFECTLY GOOD PEASE SOUP in _ten minutes_, of the liquor in
which the beef has been boiled, see N.B. to No. 218.

_Obs._--In “Mrs. Mason’s Ladies’ Assistant,” this joint is called
haunch-bone; in “Henderson’s Cookery,” edge-bone; in “Domestic
Management,” aitch-bone; in “Reynold’s Cookery,” ische-bone; in “Mrs.
Lydia Fisher’s Prudent Housewife,” ach-bone; in “Mrs. M’Iver’s Cookery,”
hook-bone. We have also seen it spelled each-bone and ridge-bone; and we
have also heard it called natch-bone.

N.B. Read the note under No. 7; and to make perfectly good pease soup of
the pot-liquor, in ten minutes, see _Obs._ to No. 218, No. 229, and No.
555.

_Ribs of Beef salted and rolled._--(No. 9.)

Briskets, and the various other pieces, are dressed in the same way.
“Wow-wow” sauce (No. 328,) is an agreeable companion.

_Half a Calf’s Head._--(No. 10.)

Cut it in two, and take out the brains: wash the head well in several
waters, and soak it in warm water for a quarter of an hour before you
dress it. Put the head into a saucepan, with plenty of cold water: when
it is coming to a boil, and the scum rises, carefully remove it.

Half a calf’s head (without the skin) will take from an hour and a half
to two hours and a quarter, according to its size; with the skin on,
about an hour longer. It must be _stewed very gently_ till it is tender:
it is then extremely nutritive, and easy of digestion.

Put eight or ten sage leaves (some cooks use parsley instead, or equal
parts of each) into a small sauce-pan: boil them tender (about half an
hour); then chop them very fine, and set them ready on a plate.

Wash the brains well in two waters; put them into a large basin of cold
water, with a little salt in it, and let them soak for an hour; then
pour away the cold, and cover them with hot water; and when you have
cleaned and skinned them, put them into a stew-pan with plenty of cold
water: when it boils, take the scum off very carefully, and boil gently
for 10 or 15 minutes: now chop them (not very fine); put them into a
sauce-pan with the sage leaves and a couple of table-spoonfuls of thin
melted butter, and a little salt (to this some cooks add a little
lemon-juice), and stir them well together; and as soon as they are well
warmed (take care they don’t burn), skin the tongue,[115-*] trim off
the roots, and put it in the middle of a dish, and the brains round it:
or, chop the brains with an eschalot, a little parsley, and four
hard-boiled eggs, and put them into a quarter of a pint of bechamel, or
white sauce (No. 2 of 364). A calf’s cheek is usually attended by a
pig’s cheek, a knuckle of ham or bacon (No. 13, or No. 526), or pickled
pork (No. 11), and greens, broccoli, cauliflowers, or pease; and always
by parsley and butter (see No. 261, No. 311, or No. 343).

If you like it full dressed, score it superficially, beat up the yelk of
an egg, and rub it over the head with a feather; powder it with a
seasoning of finely minced (or dried and powdered) winter savoury or
lemon-thyme (or sage), parsley, pepper, and salt, and bread crumbs, and
give it a brown with a salamander, or in a tin Dutch oven: when it
begins to dry, sprinkle a little melted butter over it with a
paste-brush.

You may garnish the dish with broiled rashers of bacon (No. 526 or 527).

_Obs._--Calf’s head is one of the most delicate and favourite dishes in
the list of boiled meats; but nothing is more insipid when cold, and
nothing makes so nice a hash; therefore don’t forget to save a quart of
the liquor it was boiled in to make sauce, &c. for the hash (see also
No. 520). Cut the head and tongue into slices, trim them neatly, and
leave out the gristles and fat; and slice some of the bacon that was
dressed to eat with the head, and warm them in the hash.

Take the bones and the trimmings of the head, a bundle of sweet herbs,
an onion, a roll of lemon-peel, and a blade of bruised mace: put these
into a sauce-pan with the quart of liquor you have saved, and let it
boil gently for an hour; pour it through a sieve into a basin, wash out
your stew-pan, add a table-spoonful of flour to the brains and parsley
and butter you have left, and pour it into the gravy you have made with
the bones and trimmings; let it boil up for ten minutes, and then strain
it through a hair-sieve; season it with a table-spoonful of white wine,
or of catchup (No. 439), or sauce superlative (No. 429): give it a boil
up, skim it, and then put in the brains and the slices of head and
bacon; as soon as they are thoroughly warm (it must not boil) the hash
is ready. Some cooks egg, bread-crumb, and fry the finest pieces of the
head, and lay them round the hash.

N.B. You may garnish the edges of the dish with slices of bacon toasted
in a Dutch oven (see Nos. 526 and 527), slices of lemon and fried bread.

To make gravy for hashes, &c. see No. 360.

_Pickled Pork_,--(No. 11.)

Takes more time than any other meat. If you buy your pork ready salted,
ask how many days it has been in salt; if many, it will require to be
soaked in water for six hours before you dress it. When you cook it,
wash and scrape it as clean as possible; when delicately dressed, it is
a favourite dish with almost every body. Take care it does not boil
fast; if it does, the knuckle will break to pieces, before the thick
part of the meat is warm through; a leg of seven pounds takes three
hours and a half very slow simmering. Skim your pot very carefully, and
when you take the meat out of the boiler, scrape it clean.

Some sagacious cooks (who remember to how many more nature has given
eyes than she has given tongues and brains), when pork is boiled, score
it in diamonds, and take out every other square; and thus present a
retainer to the eye to plead for them to the palate; but this is
pleasing the eye at the expense of the palate. A leg of nice pork,
nicely salted, and nicely boiled, is as nice a cold relish as cold ham;
especially if, instead of cutting into the middle when hot, and so
letting out its juices, you cut it at the knuckle: slices broiled, as
No. 487, are a good luncheon, or supper. To make pease pudding, and
pease soup extempore, see N.B. to Nos. 218 and 555.

MEM.--Some persons who sell pork ready salted have a silly trick of
cutting the knuckle in two; we suppose that this is done to save their
salt; but it lets all the gravy out of the leg; and unless you boil your
pork merely for the sake of the pot-liquor, which in this case receives
all the goodness and strength of the meat, friendly reader, your oracle
cautions you to buy no leg of pork which is slit at the knuckle.

If pork is not done enough, nothing is more disagreeable; if too much,
it not only loses its colour and flavour, but its substance becomes soft
like a jelly.

It must never appear at table without a good pease pudding (see No.
555), and, if you please, parsnips (No. 128); they are an excellent
vegetable, and deserve to be much more popular; or carrots (No. 129),
turnips, and greens, or mashed potatoes, &c. (No. 106.)

_Obs._--Remember not to forget the mustard-pot (No. 369, No. 370, and
No. 427).

_Pettitoes, or Sucking-Pig’s Feet._--(No. 12.)

Put a thin slice of bacon at the bottom of a stew-pan with some broth, a
blade of mace, a few pepper-corns, and a bit of thyme; boil the feet
till they are quite tender; this will take full twenty minutes; but the
heart, liver, and lights will be done enough in ten, when they are to be
taken out, and minced fine.

Put them all together into a stew-pan with some gravy; thicken it with a
little butter rolled in flour; season it with a little pepper and salt,
and set it over a gentle fire to simmer for five minutes, frequently
shaking them about.

While this is doing, have a thin slice of bread toasted very lightly;
divide it into sippets, and lay them round the dish: pour the mince and
sauce into the middle of it, and split the feet, and lay them round it.

N.B. Pettitoes are sometimes boiled and dipped in batter, and fried a
light brown.

_Obs._--If you have no gravy, put into the water you stew the pettitoes
in an onion, a sprig of lemon thyme, or sweet marjoram, with a blade of
bruised mace, a few black peppers, and a large tea-spoonful of mushroom
catchup (No. 439), and you will have a very tolerable substitute for
gravy. A bit of No. 252 will be a very great improvement to it.

_Bacon._--(No. 13.)

Cover a pound of nice streaked bacon (as the Hampshire housewives say,
that “has been starved one day, and fed another”) with cold water, let
it boil gently for three-quarters of an hour; take it up, scrape the
under-side well, and cut off the rind: grate a crust of bread not only
on the top, but all over it, as directed for the ham in the following
receipt, and put it before the fire for a few minutes: it must not be
there too long, or it will dry it and spoil it.

Two pounds will require about an hour and a half, according to its
thickness; the hock or gammon being very thick, will take more.

_Obs._--See Nos. 526 and 527: when only a little bacon is wanted, these
are the best ways of dressing it.

The boiling of bacon is a very simple subject to comment, upon; but our
main object is to teach common cooks the art of dressing common food in
the best manner.

Bacon is sometimes as salt as salt can make it, therefore before it is
boiled it must be soaked in warm water for an hour or two, changing the
water once; then pare off the rusty and smoked part, trim it nicely on
the under side, and scrape the rind as clean as possible.

MEM.--Bacon is an extravagant article in housekeeping; there is often
twice as much dressed as need be: when it is sent to table as an
accompaniment to boiled poultry or veal, a pound and a half is plenty
for a dozen people. A good German sausage is a very economical
substitute for bacon; or fried pork sausages (No. 87).

_Ham_,--(No. 14.)

Though of the bacon kind, has been so altered and hardened in the
curing, that it requires still more care.

Ham is generally not half-soaked; as salt as brine, and hard as flint;
and it would puzzle the stomach of an ostrich to digest it.

MEM.--The salt, seasoning, and smoke, which preserve it before it is
eaten, prevent its solution after; and unless it be very long and very
gently stewed, the strongest stomach will have a tough job to extract
any nourishment from it. If it is a very dry Westphalia ham, it must be
soaked, according to its age and thickness, from 12 to 24 hours; for a
green Yorkshire or Westmoreland ham, from four to eight hours will be
sufficient. Lukewarm water will soften it much sooner than cold, when
sufficiently soaked, trim it nicely on the underside, and pare off all
the rusty and smoked parts till it looks delicately clean.

lb. oz.
A ham weighed before it was soaked 13
After 12 4
Boiled 13 4
Trimmed for table 10 12

Give it plenty of water-room, and put it in while the water is cold; let
it heat very gradually, and let it be on the fire an hour and a half
before it comes to a boil; let it be well skimmed, and keep it simmering
very gently: a middling-sized ham of fifteen pounds will be done enough
in about four or five hours, according to its thickness.

If not to be cut till cold, it will cut the shorter and tenderer for
being boiled about half an hour longer. In a very small family, where a
ham will last a week or ten days, it is best economy not to cut it till
it is cold, it will be infinitely more juicy.

Pull off the skin carefully, and preserve it as whole as possible; it
will form an excellent covering to keep the ham moist; when you have
removed the skin, rub some bread raspings through a hair-sieve, or grate
a crust of bread; put it into the perforated cover of the dredging-box,
and shake it over it, or glaze it; trim the knuckle with a fringe of cut
writing-paper. You may garnish with spinage or turnips, &c.

_Obs._ To pot ham (No. 509), is a much more useful and economical way of
disposing of the remains of the joint, than making essence of it (No.
352). To make soup of the liquor it is boiled in, see N.B. to No. 555.

_Tongue._--(No. 15.)

A tongue is so hard, whether prepared by drying or pickling, that it
requires much more cooking than a ham; nothing of its weight takes so
long to dress it properly.

A tongue that has been salted and dried should be put to soak (if it is
old and very hard, 24 hours before it is wanted) in plenty of water; a
green one fresh from the pickle requires soaking only a few hours: put
your tongue into plenty of cold water; let it be an hour gradually
warming; and give it from three and a half to four hours’ very slow
simmering, according to the size, &c.

_Obs._ When you choose a tongue, endeavour to learn how long it has been
dried or pickled, pick out the plumpest, and that which has the
smoothest skin, which denotes its being young and tender.

The roots, &c. make an excellent relish potted, like No. 509, or pease
soup (No. 218).

N.B. Our correspondent, who wished us, in this edition, to give a
receipt to roast a tongue, will find an answer in No. 82.

_Turkeys, Capons, Fowls, Chickens, &c._--(No. 16.)

Are all boiled exactly in the same manner, only allowing time, according
to their size. For the stuffing, &c. (Nos. 374, 375, and 377), some of
it made into balls, and boiled or fried, make a nice garnish, and are
handy to help; and you can then reserve some of the inside stuffing to
eat with the cold fowl, or enrich the hash (Nos. 530 and 533).

A chicken will take about 20 minutes.
A fowl 40
A fine five-toed fowl or a capon, about an hour.
A small turkey, an hour and a half.
A large one, two hours or more.

Chickens or fowls should be killed at least one or two days before they
are to be dressed.

Turkeys (especially large ones) should not be dressed till they have
been killed three or four days at least, in cold weather six or eight,
or they will neither look white nor eat tender.[120-*]

Turkeys, and large fowls, should have the strings or sinews of the
thighs drawn out.

Truss them with the legs outward, they are much easier carved.

Fowls for boiling should be chosen as white as possible; if their
complexion is not so fair as you wish, veil them in No. 2 of No. 364;
those which have black legs should be roasted. The best use of the liver
is to make sauce (No. 287).

Poultry must be well washed in warm water; if very dirty from the
singeing, &c. rub them with a little white soap; but thoroughly rinse it
off, before you put them into the pot.

Make a good and clear fire; set on a clean pot, with pure and clean
water, enough to well cover the turkey, &c.; the slower it boils, the
whiter and plumper it will be. When there rises any scum, remove it; the
common method of some (who are more nice than wise) is to wrap them up
in a cloth, to prevent the scum attaching to them; which, if it does, by
your neglecting to skim the pot, there is no getting it off afterward,
and the poulterer is blamed for the fault of the cook.

If there be water enough, and it is attentively skimmed, the fowl will
both look and eat much better this way than when it has been covered up
in the cleanest cloth, and the colour and flavour of your poultry will
be preserved in the most delicate perfection.

_Obs._ Turkey deserves to be accompanied by tongue (No. 15), or ham (No.
14); if these are not come-at-able, don’t forget pickled pork (No. 11),
or bacon and greens (Nos. 83, 526, and 527), or pork sausages (No. 87),
parsley and butter (No. 261); don’t pour it over, but send it up in a
boat; liver (No. 287), egg (No. 267), or oyster sauce (No. 278). To warm
cold turkey, &c. see No. 533, and following.

To grill the gizzard and rump, No. 538. Save a quart of the liquor the
turkey was boiled in; this, with the bones and trimmings, &c. will make
good gravy for a hash, &c.

_Rabbits._--(No. 17.)

Truss your rabbits short, lay them in a basin of warm water for ten
minutes, then put them into plenty of water, and boil them about half an
hour; if large ones, three quarters; if very old, an hour: smother them
with plenty of white onion sauce (No. 298), mince the liver, and lay it
round the dish, or make liver sauce (No. 287), and send it up in a boat.

_Obs._ Ask those you are going to make liver sauce for, if they like
plain liver sauce, or liver and parsley, or liver and lemon sauce (Nos.
287 and 288).

N.B. It will save much trouble to the carver, if the rabbits be cut up
in the kitchen into pieces fit to help at table, and the head divided,
one-half laid at each end, and slices of lemon and the liver, chopped
very finely, laid on the sides of the dish.

At all events, cut off the head before you send it to table, we hardly
remember that the thing ever lived if we don’t see the head, while it
may excite ugly ideas to see it cut up in an attitude imitative of life;
besides, for the preservation of the head, the poor animal sometimes
suffers a slower death.

_Tripe._--(No. 18.)

Take care to have fresh tripe; cleanse it well from the fat, and cut it
into pieces about two inches broad and four long; put it into a
stew-pan, and cover it with milk and water, and let it boil gently till
it is tender.

If the tripe has been prepared as it usually is at the tripe shops, it
will be enough in about an hour, (this depends upon how long it has been
previously boiled at the tripe shop); if entirely undressed, it will
require two or three hours, according to the age and quality of it.

Make some onion sauce in the same manner as you do for rabbits (No.
298), or boil (slowly by themselves) some Spanish or the whitest common
onions you can get; peel them before you boil them; when they are
tender, which a middling-sized onion will be in about three-quarters of
an hour, drain them in a hair-sieve, take off the top skins till they
look nice and white, and put them with the tripe into a tureen or
soup-dish, and take off the fat if any floats on the surface.

_Obs._ Rashers of bacon (Nos. 526 and 527), or fried sausages (No. 87),
are a very good accompaniment to boiled tripe, cow-heels (No. 198), or
calf’s feet, see Mr. Mich. Kelly’s sauce (No. 311*), or parsley and
butter (No. 261), or caper sauce (No. 274), with a little vinegar and
mustard added to them, or salad mixture (No. 372 or 453).

Tripe holds the same rank among solids, that water-gruel does among
soups, and the former is desirable at dinner, when the latter is welcome
at supper. Read No. 572.

_Cow-Heel_,--(No. 18.*)

In the hands of a skilful cook, will furnish several good meals; when
boiled tender (No. 198), cut it into handsome pieces, egg and
bread-crumb them, and fry them a light brown; lay them round a dish, and
put in the middle of it sliced onions fried, or the accompaniments
ordered for tripe. The liquor they were boiled in will make soups (No.
229, 240*, or No. 555).

N.B. We give no receipts to boil venison, geese, ducks, pheasants,
woodcocks, and peacocks, &c. as our aim has been to make a useful book,
not a big one (see No. 82).

FOOTNOTES:

[108-*] The _gigot_ is the leg with part of the loin.

[111-*] _If not to be cut till cold_, two days longer salting will not
only improve its flavour, but the meat will keep better.

[111-+] In the West Indies they can scarcely cure beef with pickle, but
easily preserve it by cutting it into thin slices and dipping them in
sea-water, and then drying them quickly in the sun; to which they give
the name of _jerked beef_.--BROWNRIGG _on Salt_, 8vo. p. 762.

[115-*] This, _salted_, makes a very pretty supper-dish.

[120-*] BAKER, in his Chronicle, tells us the turkey did not reach
England till A. D. 1524, about the 15th of Henry the 8th; he says,

“_Turkies_, carps, hoppes, piccarell, and beere,
Came into England all in one year.”

ROASTING.

N.B.--_If the time we have allowed for roasting appears rather
longer than what is stated in former works, we can only say, we
have written from actual experiments, and that the difference may
be accounted for, by common cooks generally being fond of too
fierce a fire, and of putting things too near to it._

_Our calculations are made for a temperature of about fifty degrees
of Fahrenheit._

SLOW ROASTING _is as advantageous to the tenderness and favour of
meat as slow boiling, of which every body understands the
importance. See the account of Count Rumford’s shoulder of mutton._

_The warmer the weather, and the staler killed the meat is, the
less time it will require to roast it._

_Meat that is very fat_, requires more time than we have stated.

BEEF _is in proper season throughout the whole year._

_Sirloin of Beef._--(No. 19.)

The noble sirloin[122-*] of about fifteen pounds (if much thicker, the
outside will be done too much before the inside is enough), will require
to be before the fire about three and a half or four hours; take care to
spit it evenly, that it may not be heavier on one side than the other;
put a little clean dripping into the dripping-pan, (tie a sheet of paper
over it to preserve the fat,[123-*]) baste it well as soon as it is put
down, and every quarter of an hour all the time it is roasting, till the
last half hour; then take off the paper, and make some gravy for it (No.
326); stir the fire and make it clear: to brown and froth it, sprinkle a
little salt over it, baste it with butter, and dredge it with flour; let
it go a few minutes longer, till the froth rises, take it up, put it on
the dish, &c.

Garnish it with hillocks of horseradish, scraped as fine as possible
with a very sharp knife, (Nos. 458 and 399*). A Yorkshire pudding is an
excellent accompaniment (No. 595, or No. 554).

_Obs._ The inside of the sirloin must never be cut[123-+] hot, but
reserved entire for the hash, or a mock hare (No. 66*). (For various
ways of dressing the inside of the sirloin, No. 483; for the receipt to
hash or broil beef, No. 484, and Nos. 486 and 487; and for other ways of
employing the remains of a joint of cold beef, Nos. 503, 4, 5, 6).

_Ribs of Beef._--(No. 20).

The first three ribs, of fifteen or twenty pounds, will take three
hours, or three and a half: the fourth and fifth ribs will lake as long,
managed in the same way as the sirloin. Paper the fat, and the thin
part, or it will be done too much, before the thick part is done enough.

N.B. A pig-iron placed before it on the bars of the grate answers every
purpose of keeping the thin part from being too much done.

_Obs._ Many persons prefer the ribs to the sirloin.

_Ribs of Beef boned and rolled._--(No. 21.)

When you have kept two or three ribs of beef till quite tender, take out
the bones, and skewer it as round as possible (like a fillet of veal):
before they roll it, some cooks egg it, and sprinkle it with veal
stuffing (No. 374). As the meat is more in a solid mass, it will require
more time at the fire than in the preceding receipt; a piece of ten or
twelve pounds weight will not be well and thoroughly roasted in less
than four and a half or five hours.

For the first half hour, it should not be less than twelve inches from
the fire, that it may get gradually warm to the centre: the last half
hour before it will be finished, sprinkle a little salt over it; and if
you wish to froth it, flour it, &c.

_MUTTON._[124-*]--(No. 23.)

As beef requires a large, sound fire, mutton must have a brisk and sharp
one. If you wish to have mutton tender, it should be hung almost as long
as it will keep;[124-+] and then good eight-tooth, _i. e._ four years
old mutton, is as good eating as venison, if it is accompanied by Nos.
329 and 346.

The leg, haunch, and saddle will be the better for being hung up in a
cool airy place for four or five days at least; in temperate weather, a
week; in cold weather, ten days.

If you think your mutton will not be tender enough to do honour to the
spit, dress it as a “_gigot de sept heures_.” See N.B. to No. 1 and No.
493.

_A Leg_,--(No. 24.)

Of eight pounds, will take about two hours: let it be well basted, and
frothed in the same manner as directed in No. 19. To hash mutton, No.
484. To broil it, No. 487, &c.

_A Chine or Saddle_,--(No. 26.)

(_i. e._ the two loins) of ten or eleven pounds, two hours and a half:
it is the business of the butcher to take off the skin and skewer it on
again, to defend the meat from extreme heat, and preserve its
succulence; if this is neglected, tie a sheet of paper over it (baste
the strings you tie it on with directly, or they will burn): about a
quarter of an hour before you think it will be done, take off the skin
or paper, that it may get a pale brown colour, then baste it and flour
it lightly to froth it. We like No. 346 for sauce.

N.B. Desire the butcher to cut off the flaps and the tail and chump end,
and trim away every part that has not indisputable pretensions to be
eaten. This will reduce a saddle of eleven pounds weight to about six or
seven pounds.

_A Shoulder_,--(No. 27.)

Of seven pounds, an hour and a half. Put the spit in close to the
shank-bone, and run it along the blade-bone.

N.B. The blade-bone is a favourite luncheon or supper relish, scored,
peppered and salted, and broiled, or done in a Dutch oven.

_A Loin_,[125-*]--(No. 28.)

Of mutton, from an hour and a half to an hour and three quarters. The
most elegant way of carving this, is to cut it lengthwise, as you do a
saddle: read No. 26.

N.B. Spit it on a skewer or lark spit, and tie that on the common spit,
and do not spoil the meat by running the spit through the prime part of
it.

_A Neck_,--(No. 29.)

About the same time as a loin. It must be carefully jointed, or it is
very difficult to carve. The neck and breast are, in small families,
commonly roasted together; the cook will then crack the bones across the
middle before they are put down to roast: if this is not done carefully,
they are very troublesome to carve. Tell the cook, when she takes it
from the spit, to separate them before she sends them to table.

_Obs._--If there is more fat than you think will be eaten with the lean,
cut it off, and it will make an excellent suet pudding (No. 551, or No.
554).

N.B. The best way to spit this is to run iron skewers across it, and put
the spit between them.

_A Breast_,--(No. 30.)

An hour and a quarter.

To grill a breast of mutton, see _Obs._ to No. 38.

_A Haunch_,--(No. 31.)

(_i. e._ the leg and part of the loin) of mutton: send up two
sauce-boats with it; one of rich mutton gravy, made without spice or
herbs (No. 347), and the other of sweet sauce (No. 346). It generally
weighs about 15 pounds, and requires about three hours and a half to
roast it.

_Mutton, venison fashion._--(No. 32.)

Take a neck of good four or five years old Southdown wether mutton, cut
long in the bones; let it hang (in temperate weather) at least a week:
two days before you dress it, take allspice and black pepper, ground and
pounded fine, a quarter of an ounce each; rub them together, and then
rub your mutton well with this mixture twice a day. When you dress it,
wash off the spice with warm water, and roast in paste, as we have
ordered the haunch of venison. (No. 63).

_Obs._--Persevering and ingenious epicures have invented many methods to
give mutton the flavour of venison. Some say that mutton, prepared as
above, may be mistaken for venison; others, that it is full as good. The
refined palate of a grand gourmand (in spite of the spice and wine the
meat has been fuddled and rubbed with) will perhaps still protest
against “Welch venison;” and indeed we do not understand by what
conjuration allspice and claret can communicate the flavour of venison
to mutton. We confess our fears that the flavour of venison (especially
of its fat) is inimitable; but believe you may procure prime
eight-toothed wether mutton, keep it the proper time, and send it to
table with the accompaniments (Nos. 346 and 347, &c.) usually given to
venison, and a rational epicure will eat it with as much satisfaction as
he would “feed on the king’s fallow deer.”

_VEAL._--(No. 33.)

VEAL requires particular care to roast it a nice brown. Let the fire be
the same as for beef; a sound large fire for a large joint, and a
brisker for a smaller; put it at some distance from the fire to soak
thoroughly, and then draw it near to finish it brown.

When first laid down, it is to be basted; baste it again occasionally.
When the veal is on the dish, pour over it half a pint of melted butter
(No. 256): if you have a little brown gravy by you, add that to the
butter (No. 326). With those joints which are not stuffed, send up
forcemeat (No. 374, or No. 375) in balls, or rolled into sausages, as
garnish to the dish, or fried pork sausages (No. 87); bacon (No. 13, or
No. 526, or No. 527), and greens, are also always expected with veal.

_Fillet of Veal_,--(No. 34.)

Of from twelve to sixteen pounds, will require from four to five hours
at a good fire; make some stuffing or forcemeat (No. 374 or 5), and put
it in under the flap, that there may be some left to eat cold, or to
season a hash;[127-*] brown it, and pour good melted butter (No. 266)
over it, as directed in No. 33.

Garnish with thin slices of lemon and cakes or balls of stuffing, or No.
374, or No. 375, or duck stuffing (No. 61), or fried pork sausages (No.
87), curry sauce (No. 348), bacon (No. 13), and greens, &c.

N.B. Potted veal (No. 533).

_Obs._--A bit of the brown outside is a favourite with the epicure in
roasts. The kidney, cut out, sliced, and broiled (No. 358), is a high
relish, which some _bons vivants_ are fond of.

_A Loin_,--(No. 35.)

Is the best part of the calf, and will take about three hours roasting.
Paper the kidney fat, and the back: some cooks send it up on a toast,
which is eaten with the kidney and the fat of this part, which is as
delicate as any marrow. If there is more of it than you think will be
eaten with the veal, before you roast it cut it out; it will make an
excellent suet pudding: take care to have your fire long enough to brown
the ends; same accompaniments as No. 34.

_A Shoulder_,--(No. 36.)

From three hours to three hours and a half; stuff it with the forcemeat
ordered for the fillet of veal, in the under side, or balls made of No.
374.

_Neck, best end_,--(No. 37.)

Will take two hours; same accompaniments as No. 34. The scrag part is
best made into a pie, or broth.

_Breast_,--(No. 38.)

From an hour and a half to two hours. Let the caul remain till it is
almost done, then take it off to brown it; baste, flour, and froth it.

_Obs._--This makes a savoury relish for a luncheon or supper: or,
instead of roasting, boil it enough; put it in a cloth between two
pewter dishes, with a weight on the upper one, and let it remain so till
cold; then pare and trim, egg, and crumb it, and broil, or warm it in a
Dutch oven; serve with it capers (No. 274), or wow wow sauce (No. 328).
Breast of mutton may be dressed the same way.

_Veal Sweetbread._--(No. 39.)

Trim a fine sweetbread (it cannot be too fresh); parboil it for five
minutes, and throw it into a basin of cold water. Roast it plain, or

Beat up the yelk of an egg, and prepare some fine bread-crumbs: when the
sweetbread is cold, dry it thoroughly in a cloth; run a lark-spit or a
skewer through it, and tie it on the ordinary spit; egg it with a
paste-brush; powder it well with bread-crumbs, and roast it.

For sauce, fried bread-crumbs round it, and melted butter, with a little
mushroom catchup (No. 439), and lemon-juice (Nos. 307, 354, or 356), or
serve them on buttered toast, garnished with egg sauce (No. 267), or
with gravy (No. 329).

_Obs._--Instead of spitting them, you may put them into a tin Dutch
oven, or fry them (Nos. 88, 89, or 513).

_LAMB_,--(No. 40.)

Is a delicate, and commonly considered tender meat; but those who talk
of tender lamb, while they are thinking of the age of the animal, forget
that even a chicken must be kept a proper time after it has been killed,
or it will be tough picking.

Woful experience has warned us to beware of accepting an invitation to
dinner on Easter Sunday, unless commanded by a thorough-bred _gourmand_;
our _incisores_, _molares_, and _principal viscera_ have protested
against the imprudence of encountering young, tough, stringy mutton,
under the _misnomen_ of grass lamb. The proper name for “Easter grass
lamb” is “hay mutton.”

To the usual accompaniments of roasted meat, green mint sauce (No. 303),
a salad (Nos. 372 and 138*), is commonly added; and some cooks, about
five minutes before it is done, sprinkle it with a little fresh gathered
and finely minced parsley, or No. 318: lamb, and all young meats, ought
to be thoroughly done; therefore do not take either lamb or veal off the
spit till you see it drop white gravy.

Grass lamb is in season from Easter to Michaelmas.

House lamb from Christmas to Lady-day.

Sham lamb, see _Obs._ to following receipt.

N.B. When green mint cannot be got, mint vinegar (No. 398) is an
acceptable substitute for it; and crisp parsley (No. 318), on a side
plate, is an admirable accompaniment.

_Hind-Quarter_,--(No. 41).

Of eight pounds, will take from an hour and three-quarters to two hours:
baste and froth it in the same way as directed in No. 19.

_Obs._--A quarter of a porkling is sometimes skinned, cut, and dressed
lamb-fashion, and sent up as a substitute for it. The leg and the loin
of lamb, when little, should be roasted together; the former being lean,
the latter fat, and the gravy is better preserved.

_Fore-Quarter_,--(No. 42.)

Of ten pounds, about two hours.

N.B. It is a pretty general custom, when you take off the shoulder from
the ribs, to squeeze a Seville orange over them, and sprinkle them with
a little pepper and salt.

_Obs._--This may as well be done by the cook before it comes to table;
some people are not remarkably expert at dividing these joints nicely.

_Leg_,--(No. 43.)

Of five pounds, from an hour to an hour and a half.

_Shoulder_,--(No. 44.)

With a quick fire, an hour.

See _Obs._ to No. 27.

_Ribs_,--(No. 45.)

About an hour to an hour and a quarter: joint it nicely, crack the ribs
across, and divide them from the brisket after it is roasted.

_Loin_,--(No. 46.)

An hour and a quarter.

_Neck_,--(No. 47.)

An hour.

_Breast_,--(No. 48.)

Three-quarters of an hour.

_PORK._--(No. 49.)

The prime season for pork is from Michaelmas to March.

Take particular care it be done enough: other meats under-done are
unpleasant, but pork is absolutely uneatable; the sight of it is enough
to appal the sharpest appetite, if its gravy has the least tint of
redness.

Be careful of the crackling; if this be not crisp, or if it be burned,
you will be scolded.

For sauces, No. 300, No. 304, and No. 342.

_Obs._--Pease pudding (No. 555) is as good an accompaniment to roasted,
as it is to boiled pork; and most palates are pleased with the savoury
powder set down in No. 51, or bread-crumbs, mixed with sage and onion,
minced very fine, or zest (No. 255) sprinkled over it.

N.B. “The western pigs, from Berks, Oxford, and Bucks, possess a decided
superiority over the eastern, of Essex, Sussex, and Norfolk; not to
forget another qualification of the former, at which some readers may
smile, a thickness of the skin; whence the crackling of the roasted pork
is a fine gelatinous substance, which may be easily masticated; while
the crackling of the thin-skinned breeds is roasted into good block tin,
the reduction of which would almost require teeth of iron.”--MOUBRAY _on
Poultry_, 1816, page 242.

_A Leg_,--(No. 50.)

Of eight pounds, will require about three hours: score the skin across
in narrow stripes (some score it in diamonds), about a quarter of an
inch apart; stuff the knuckle with sage and onion, minced fine, and a
little grated bread, seasoned with pepper, salt, and the yelk of an egg.
See Duck Stuffing, (No. 61.)

Do not put it too near the fire: rub a little sweet oil on the skin with
a paste-brush, or a goose-feather: this makes the crackling crisper and
browner than basting it with dripping; and it will be a better colour
than all the art of cookery can make it in any other way; and this is
the best way of preventing the skin from blistering, which is
principally occasioned by its being put too near the fire.

_Leg of Pork roasted without the Skin, commonly called_ MOCK
GOOSE.[131-*]--(No. 51.)

Parboil it; take off the skin, and then put it down to roast; baste it
with butter, and make a savoury powder of finely minced, or dried and
powdered sage, ground black pepper, salt, and some bread-crumbs, rubbed
together through a colander; you may add to this a little very finely
minced onion: sprinkle it with this when it is almost roasted. Put half
a pint of made gravy into the dish, and goose stuffing (No. 378) under
the knuckle skin; or garnish the dish with balls of it fried or boiled.

_The Griskin_,--(No. 52.)

Of seven or eight pounds, may be dressed in the same manner. It will
take an hour and a half roasting.

_A Bacon Spare-Rib_,--(No. 53.)

Usually weighs about eight or nine pounds, and will take from two to
three hours to roast it thoroughly; not exactly according to its weight,
but the thickness of the meat upon it, which varies very much. Lay the
thick end nearest to the fire.

A proper bald spare-rib of eight pounds weight (so called because almost
all the meat is pared off), with a steady fire, will be done in an hour
and a quarter. There is so little meat on a bald spare-rib, that if you
have a large, fierce fire, it will be burned before it is warm through.
Joint it nicely, and crack the ribs across as you do ribs of lamb.

When you put it down to roast, dust on some flour, and baste it with a
little butter; dry a dozen sage leaves, and rub them through a
hair-sieve, and put them into the top of a pepper-box; and about a
quarter of an hour before the meat is done, baste it with butter; dust
the pulverized sage, or the savoury powder in No. 51; or sprinkle with
duck stuffing (No. 61).

_Obs._--Make it a general rule never to pour gravy over any thing that
is roasted; by so doing, the dredging, &c. is washed off, and it eats
insipid.

Some people carve a spare-rib by cutting out in slices the thick part at
the bottom of the bones. When this meat is cut away, the bones may be
easily separated, and are esteemed very sweet picking.

Apple sauce (No. 304), mashed potatoes (No. 106), and good mustard (No.
370,) are indispensable.

_Loin_,--(No. 54.)

Of five pounds, must be kept at a good distance from the fire on account
of the crackling, and will take about two hours; if very fat, half an
hour longer.

Stuff it with duck stuffing (No. 378). Score the skin in stripes, about
a quarter of an inch apart, and rub it with salad oil, as directed in
No. 50. You may sprinkle over it some of the savoury powder recommended
for the mock goose (No. 51).

_A Chine._--(No. 55.)

If parted down the back-bone so as to have but one side, a good fire
will roast it in two hours; if not parted, three hours.

N.B. Chines are generally salted and boiled.

_A Sucking-Pig_,[133-*]--(No. 56.)

Is in prime order for the spit when about three weeks old.

It loses part of its goodness every hour after it is killed; if not
quite fresh, no art can make the crackling crisp.

To be in perfection, it should be killed in the morning to be eaten at
dinner: it requires very careful roasting. A sucking-pig, like a young
child, must not be left for an instant.

The ends must have much more fire than the middle: for this purpose is
contrived an iron to hang before the middle part, called a pig-iron. If
you have not this, use a common flat iron, or keep the fire fiercest at
the two ends.

For the stuffing, take of the crumb of a stale loaf about five ounces;
rub it through a colander; mince fine a handful of sage (_i. e._ about
two ounces), and a large onion (about an ounce and a half[133-+]). Mix
these together with an egg, some pepper and salt, and a bit of butter as
big as an egg. Fill the belly of the pig with this, and sew it up: lay
it to the fire, and baste it with salad oil till it is quite done. Do
not leave it a moment: it requires the most vigilant attendance.

Roast it at a clear, brisk fire at some distance. To gain the praise of
epicurean pig-eaters, the crackling must be nicely crisped and
delicately lightly browned, without being either blistered or burnt.

A small, three weeks old pig will be done enough[133-++] in about an
hour and a half.

Before you take it from the fire, cut off the head, and part that and
the body down the middle: chop the brains very fine, with some boiled
sage leaves, and mix them with good veal gravy, made as directed in No.
192, or beef gravy (No. 329), or what runs from the pig when you cut its
head off. Send up a tureenful of gravy (No. 329) besides. Currant sauce
is still a favourite with some of the old school.

Lay your pig back to back in the dish, with one half of the head on each
side, and the ears one at each end, which you must take care to make
nice and crisp; or you will get scolded, and deservedly, as the silly
fellow was who bought his wife a pig with only one ear.

When you cut off the pettitoes, leave the skin long round the ends of
the legs. When you first lay the pig before the fire, rub it all over
with fresh butter or salad oil: ten minutes after, and the skin looks
dry; dredge it well with flour all over, let it remain on an hour, then
rub it off with a soft cloth.

N. B. A pig is a very troublesome subject to roast; most persons have
them baked. Send a quarter of a pound of butter, and beg the baker to
baste it well.

_Turkey, Turkey Poults, and other Poultry._--(No. 57.)

A fowl and a turkey require the same management at the fire, only the
latter will take longer time.

Many a Christmas dinner has been spoiled by the turkey having been hung
up in a cold larder, and becoming thoroughly frozen; _Jack Frost_ has
ruined the reputation of many a turkey-roaster: therefore, in very cold
weather, remember the note in the 5th page of the 3d chapter of the
Rudiments of Cookery.

Let them be carefully picked, &c. and break the breast-bone (to make
them look plump), twist up a sheet of clean writing-paper, light it, and
thoroughly singe the turkey all over, turning it about over the flame.

Turkeys, fowls, and capons have a much better appearance, if, instead of
trussing them with the legs close together, and the feet cut off, the
legs are extended on each side of the bird, and the toes only cut off
with a skewer through each foot, to keep them at a proper distance.

Be careful, when you draw it, to preserve the liver, and not to break
the gall-bag, as no washing will take off the bitter taste it gives,
where it once touches.

Prepare a nice, clear, brisk fire for it.

Make stuffing according to No. 374, or 376; stuff it under the breast,
where the craw was taken out, and make some into balls, and boil or fry
them, and lay them round the dish; they are handy to help, and you can
then reserve some of the inside stuffing to eat with the cold turkey, or
to enrich a hash (No. 533).

Score the gizzard, dip it into the yelk of an egg or melted butter, and
sprinkle it with salt and a few grains of Cayenne; put it under one
pinion and the liver under the other; cover the liver with buttered
paper, to prevent it from getting hardened or burnt.

When you first put a turkey down to roast, dredge it with flour; then
put about an ounce of butter into a basting-ladle, and as it melts,
baste the bird therewith.

Keep it at a distance from the fire for the first half hour, that it may
warm gradually; then put it nearer, and when it is plumped up, and the
steam draws in towards the fire, it is nearly enough; then dredge it
lightly with flour, and put a bit of butter into your basting-ladle, and
as it melts, baste the turkey with it; this will raise a finer froth
than can be produced by using the fat out of the pan.

A very large turkey will require about three hours to roast it
thoroughly; a middling-sized one, of eight or ten pounds (which is far
nicer eating than the very large one), about two hours; a small one may
be done in an hour and a half.

Turkey poults are of various sizes, and will take about an hour and a
half; they should be trussed, with their legs twisted under like a duck,
and the head under the wing like a pheasant.

Fried pork sausages (No. 87) are a very savoury and favourite
accompaniment to either roasted or boiled poultry. A turkey thus
garnished is called “an alderman in chains.”

Sausage-meat is sometimes used as stuffing, instead of the ordinary
forcemeat. (No. 376, &c.)

MEM. If you wish a turkey, especially a very large one, to be tender,
never dress it till at least four or five days (in cold weather, eight
or ten) after it has been killed. “No man who understands good living
will say, on such a day I will eat that turkey; but will hang it up by
four of the large tail-feathers, and when, on paying his morning visit
to the larder, he finds it lying upon a cloth prepared to receive it
when it falls, that day let it be cooked.”

Hen turkeys are preferable to cocks for whiteness and tenderness, and
the small fleshy ones with black legs are most esteemed.

Send up with them oyster (No. 278), egg (No. 267), bread (No. 221), and
plenty of gravy sauce (No. 329). To hash turkey, No. 533.

MEM. Some epicures are very fond of the gizzard and rump, peppered and
salted, and broiled. (See No. 538, “how to dress a devil with _véritable
sauce d’enfer_!!”)

_Capons or Fowls_,--(No. 58.)

Must be killed a couple of days in moderate, and more in cold weather,
before they are dressed, or they will eat tough: a good criterion of the
ripeness of poultry for the spit, is the ease with which you can then
pull out the feathers; when a fowl is plucked, leave a few to help you
to ascertain this.

They are managed exactly in the same manner, and sent up with the same
sauces as a turkey, only they require proportionably less time at the
fire.

A full-grown five-toed fowl, about an hour and a quarter.

A moderate-sized one, an hour.

A chicken, from thirty to forty minutes.

Here, also, pork sausages fried (No. 87) are in general a favourite
accompaniment, or turkey stuffing; see forcemeats (Nos. 374, 5, 6, and
7); put in plenty of it, so as to plump out the fowl, which must be tied
closely (both at the neck and rump), to keep in the stuffing.

Some cooks put the liver of the fowl into this forcemeat, and others
mince it and pound it, and rub it up with flour and melted butter (No.
287).

When the bird is stuffed and trussed, score the gizzard nicely, dip it
into melted butter, let it drain, and then season it with Cayenne and
salt; put it under one pinion, and the liver under the other; to prevent
their getting hardened or scorched, cover them with double paper
buttered.

Take care that your roasted poultry be well browned; it is as
indispensable that roasted poultry should have a rich brown complexion,
as boiled poultry should have a delicate white one.

_Obs._ “The art of fattening poultry for the market is a considerable
branch of rural economy in some convenient situations, and consists in
supplying them with plenty of healthy food, and confining them; and
ducks and geese must be prevented from going into water, which prevents
them from becoming fat, and they also thereby acquire a rancid, fishy
taste. They are put into a dark place, and crammed with a paste made of
barley meal, mutton-suet, and some treacle or coarse sugar mixed with
milk, and are found to be completely ripe in a fortnight. If kept
longer, the fever that is induced by this continued state of repletion
renders them red and unsaleable, and frequently kills them.” But
exercise is as indispensable to the health of poultry as other
creatures; without it, the fat will be all accumulated in the cellular
membrane, instead of being dispersed through its system. See MOUBRAY
_on breeding and fattening domestic Poultry_, 12mo. 1819.

Fowls which are fattened artificially are by some epicures preferred to
those called barn-door fowls; whom we have heard say, that they should
as soon think of ordering a barn-door for dinner as a barn-door fowl.

The age of poultry makes all the difference: nothing is tenderer than a
young chicken; few things are tougher than an old cock or hen, which is
only fit to make broth. The meridian of perfection of poultry is just
before they have come to their full growth, before they have begun to
harden.

For sauces, see No. 305, or liver and parsley, No. 287, and those
ordered in the last receipt. To hash it, No. 533.

_Goose._--(No. 59.)

When a goose is well picked, singed, and cleaned, make the stuffing with
about two ounces of onion,[137-*] and half as much green sage, chop them
very fine, adding four ounces, _i. e._ about a large breakfast-cupful of
stale bread-crumbs, a bit of butter about as big as a walnut, and a very
little pepper and salt (to this some cooks add half the liver,[137-+]
parboiling it first), the yelk of an egg or two, and incorporating the
whole well together, stuff the goose; do not quite fill it, but leave a
little room for the stuffing to swell; spit it, tie it on the spit at
both ends, to prevent its swinging round, and to keep the stuffing from
coming out. From an hour and a half to an hour and three-quarters, will
roast a fine full-grown goose. Send up gravy and apple sauce with it
(see Nos. 300, 304, 329, and 341). To hash it, see No. 530.

For another stuffing for geese, see No. 378.

_Obs._ “Goose-feeding in the vicinity of the metropolis is so large a
concern, that one person annually feeds for market upwards of 5000.” “A
goose on a farm in Scotland, two years since, of the clearly ascertained
age of 89 years, healthy and vigorous, was killed by a sow while sitting
over her eggs; it was supposed she might have lived many years, and her
fecundity appeared to be permanent. Other geese have been proved to
reach the age of 70 years.” MOUBRAY _on Poultry_, p. 40.

It appears in Dr. STARK’S _Experiments on Diet_, p. 110, that “when he
fed upon roasted goose, he was more vigorous both in body and mind than
with any other diet.”

The goose at Michaelmas is as famous in the mouths of the million, as
the minced-pie at Christmas; but for those who eat with delicacy, it is
by that time too full-grown.

The true period when the goose is in its highest perfection, is when it
has just acquired its full growth, and not begun to harden. If the March
goose is insipid, the Michaelmas goose is rank; the fine time is between
both, from the second week in June to the first in September: the leg is
not the most tender part of a goose. See Mock Goose (No. 51).

_Green Goose._--(No. 60.)

Geese are called green till they are about four months old.

The only difference between roasting these and a full-grown goose,
consists in seasoning it with pepper and salt instead of sage and onion,
and roasting it for forty or fifty minutes only.

_Obs._ This is one of the least desirable of those insipid premature
productions, which are esteemed dainties.

_Duck._--(No. 61.)

Mind your duck is well cleaned, and wiped out with a clean cloth: for
the stuffing, take an ounce of onion and half an ounce of green sage;
chop them very fine, and mix them with two ounces, _i. e._ about a
breakfast-cupful, of bread-crumbs, a bit of butter about as big as a
walnut, a very little black pepper and salt, (some obtuse palates may
require warming with a little Cayenne, No. 404,) and the yelk of an egg
to bind it; mix these thoroughly together, and put into the duck. For
another stuffing, see No. 378. From half to three-quarters of an hour
will be enough to roast it, according to the size: contrive to have the
feet delicately crisp, as some people are very fond of them; to do this
nicely you must have a sharp fire. For sauce, green pease (No. 134),
bonne bouche (No. 341), gravy sauce (No. 329), and sage and onion sauce
(No. 300).

To hash or stew ducks, see No. 530.

N.B. If you think the raw onion will make too strong an impression upon
the palate, parboil it. Read _Obs._ to No. 59.

To ensure ducks being tender, in moderate weather kill them a few days
before you dress them.

_Haunch of Venison._--(No. 63.)

To preserve the fat, make a paste of flour and water, as much as will
cover the haunch; wipe it with a dry cloth in every part; rub a large
sheet of paper all over with butter, and cover the venison with it; then
roll out the paste about three-quarters of an inch thick; lay this all
over the fat side, and cover it well with three or four sheets of strong
white paper, and tie it securely on with packthread: have a strong,
close fire, and baste your venison as soon as you lay it down to roast
(to prevent the paper and string from burning); it must be well basted
all the time.

A buck haunch generally weighs from 20 to 25 pounds; will take about
four hours and a half roasting in warm, and longer in cold weather: a
haunch of from 19 to 18 pounds will be done in about three or three and
a half.

A quarter of an hour before it is done, the string must be cut, and the
paste carefully taken off; now baste it with butter, dredge it lightly
with flour, and when the froth rises, and it has got a very light brown
colour, garnish the knuckle-bone with a ruffle of cut writing-paper, and
send it up, with good, strong (but unseasoned) gravy (No. 347) in one
boat, and currant-jelly sauce in the other, or currant-jelly in a side
plate (not melted): see for sauces, Nos. 344, 5, 6, and 7. MEM. “_the
alderman’s walk_” is the favourite part.

_Obs._ Buck venison is in greatest perfection from midsummer to
Michaelmas, and doe from November to January.

_Neck and Shoulder of Venison_,--(No. 64.)

Are to be managed in the same way as the haunch; only they do not
require the coat or paste, and will not take so much time.

The best way to spit a neck is to put three skewers through it, and put
the spit between the skewers and the bones.

_A Fawn_,--(No. 65.)

Like a sucking-pig, should be dressed almost as soon as killed. When
very young, it is trussed, stuffed, and spitted the same way as a hare:
but they are better eating when of the size of a house lamb, and are
then roasted in quarters; the hind-quarter is most esteemed.

They must be put down to a very quick fire, and either basted all the
time they are roasting, or be covered with sheets of fat bacon; when
done, baste it with butter, and dredge it with a little salt and flour,
till you make a nice froth on it.

N.B. We advise our friends to half roast a fawn as soon as they receive
it, and then make a hash of it like No. 528.

Send up venison sauce with it. See the preceding receipt, or No. 344,
&c.

_A Kid._--(No. 65*.)

A young sucking-kid is very good eating; to have it in prime condition,
the dam should be kept up, and well fed, &c.

Roast it like a fawn or hare.

_Hare._--(No. 66.)

“_Inter quadrupedes gloria prima lepus._”--MARTIAL.

The first points of consideration are, how old is the hare? and how long
has it been killed? When young, it is easy of digestion, and very
nourishing; when old, the contrary in every respect.

To ascertain the age, examine the first joint of the forefoot; you will
find a small knob, if it is a leveret, which disappears as it grows
older; then examine the ears, if they tear easily, it will eat tender;
if they are tough, so will be the hare, which we advise you to make into
soup (No. 241), or stew or jug it (No. 523).

When newly killed, the body is stiff; as it grows stale, it becomes
limp.

As soon as you receive a hare, take out the liver, parboil it, and keep
it for the stuffing; some are very fond of it. Do not use it if it be
not quite fresh and good. Some mince it, and send it up as a garnish in
little hillocks round the dish. Wipe the hare quite dry, rub the inside
with pepper, and hang it up in a dry, cool place.

Paunch and skin[141-*] your hare, wash it, and lay it in a large pan of
cold water four or five hours, changing the water two or three times;
lay it in a clean cloth, and dry it well, then truss it.

To make the stuffing, see No. 379. Do not make it too thin; it should be
of cohesive consistence: if it is not sufficiently stiff, it is good for
nothing. Put this into the belly, and sew it up tight.

Cut the neck-skin to let the blood out, or it will never appear to be
done enough; spit it, and baste it with drippings,[141-+] (or the juices
of the back will be dried up before the upper joints of the legs are
half done,) till you think it is nearly done, which a middling-sized
hare will be in about an hour and a quarter. When it is almost roasted
enough, put a little bit of butter into your basting-ladle, and baste it
with this, and flour it, and froth it nicely.

Serve it with good gravy (No. 329, or No. 347), and currant-jelly. For
another stuffing, see receipt No. 379. Some cooks cut off the head and
divide it, and lay one half on each side the hare.

Cold roast hare will make excellent soup (No. 241), chopped to pieces,
and stewed in three quarts of water for a couple of hours; the stuffing
will be a very agreeable substitute for sweet herbs and seasoning. See
receipt for hare soup (No. 241), hashed hare (No. 529), and mock hare,
next receipt.

_Mock Hare._--(No. 66.*)

Cut out the fillet (_i. e._ the inside lean) of a sirloin of beef,
leaving the fat to roast with the joint. Prepare some nice stuffing, as
directed for a hare in No. 66, or 379; put this on the beef, and roll it
up with tape, put a skewer through it, and tie that on a spit.

_Obs._ If the beef is of prime quality, has been kept till thoroughly
tender, and you serve with it the accompaniments that usually attend
roast hare (Nos. 329, 344, &c.), or stew it, and serve it with a rich
thickened sauce garnished with forcemeat balls (No. 379), the most
fastidious palate will have no reason to regret that the game season is
over.

To make this into hare soup, see No. 241.

_Rabbit._--(No. 67.)

If your fire is clear and sharp, thirty minutes will roast a young, and
forty a full-grown rabbit.

When you lay it down, baste it with butter, and dredge it lightly and
carefully with flour, that you may have it frothy, and of a fine light
brown. While the rabbit is roasting, boil its liver[142-*] with some
parsley; when tender, chop them together, and put half the mixture into
some melted butter, reserving the other half for garnish, divided into
little hillocks. Cut off the head, and lay half on each side of the
dish.

_Obs._ A fine, well-grown (but young) warren rabbit, kept some time
after it has been killed, and roasted with a stuffing in its belly, eats
very like a hare, to the nature of which it approaches. It is nice,
nourishing food when young, but hard and unwholesome when old. For
sauces, Nos. 287, 298, and 329.

_Pheasant._--(No. 68.)

Requires a smart fire, but not a fierce one. Thirty minutes will roast a
young bird, and forty or fifty a full-grown pheasant. Pick and draw it,
cut a slit in the back of the neck, and take out the craw, but don’t cut
the head off; wipe the inside of the bird with a clean cloth, twist the
legs close to the body, leave the feet on, but cut the toes off; don’t
turn the head under the wing, but truss it like a fowl, it is much
easier to carve; baste it, butter and froth it, and prepare sauce for it
(Nos. 321 and 329). See the instructions in receipts to roast fowls and
turkeys, Nos. 57 and 58.

_Obs._ We believe the rarity of this bird is its best recommendation;
and the character given it by an ingenious French author is just as good
as it deserves. “Its flesh is naturally tough, and owes all its
tenderness and succulence to the long time it is kept before it is
cooked;” until it is “_bien mortifiée_,” it is uneatable[142-+].
Therefore, instead of “_sus per col_,” suspend it by one of the long
tail-feathers, and the pheasant’s falling from it is the criterion of
its ripeness and readiness for the spit.

Our president of the committee of taste (who is indefatigable in his
endeavours to improve the health, as well as promote the enjoyment, of
his fellow-students in the school of good living, and to whom the
epicure, the economist, and the valetudinarian are equally indebted for
his careful revision of this work, and especially for introducing that
salutary maxim into the kitchen, that “the salubrious is ever a superior
consideration to the savoury,” and indeed, the rational epicure only
relishes the latter when entirely subordinate to the former), has
suggested to us, that the detachment of the feather cannot take place
until the body of the bird has advanced more than one degree beyond the
state of wholesome _haut-goût_, and become “_trop mortifiée_;” and that
to enjoy this game in perfection, you must have a brace of birds killed
the same day; these are to be put in suspense as above directed, and
when one of them _drops_, the hour is come that the spit should be
introduced to his companion:--

“_Ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum._”

_Mock Pheasant._--(No. 69.)

If you have only one pheasant, and wish for a companion for it, get a
fine young fowl, of as near as may be the same size as the bird to be
matched, and make game of it by trussing it like a pheasant, and
dressing it according to the above directions. Few persons will discover
the pheasant from the fowl, especially if the latter has been kept four
or five days.

The peculiar flavour of the pheasant (like that of other game) is
principally acquired by long keeping.

_Guinea and Pea Fowls_,--(No. 69*.)

Are dressed in the same way as pheasants.

_Partridges_,--(No. 70.)

Are cleaned and trussed in the same manner as a pheasant (but the
ridiculous custom of tucking the legs into each other makes them very
troublesome to carve); the breast is so plump, it will require almost as
much roasting; send up with them rich sauce (No. 321*), or bread sauce
(No. 321), and good gravy (No. 329).

⁂ If you wish to preserve them longer than you think they will keep
good undressed, half roast them, they will then keep two or three days
longer; or make a pie of them.

_Black Cock_ (No. 71), _Moor Game_ (No. 72), _and Grouse_, (No. 73.)

Are all to be dressed like partridges; the black cock will take as much
as a pheasant, and moor game and grouse as the partridge. Send up with
them currant-jelly and fried bread-crumbs (No. 320).

_Wild Ducks._--(No. 74.)

For roasting a wild duck, you must have a clear, brisk fire, and a hot
spit; it must be browned upon the outside, without being sodden within.
To have it well frothed and full of gravy is the nicety. Prepare the
fire by stirring and raking it just before the bird is laid down, and
fifteen or twenty minutes will do it in the fashionable way; but if you
like it a little more done, allow it a few minutes longer; if it is too
much, it will lose its flavour.

For the sauce, see No. 338 and No. 62.

_Widgeons and Teal_,--(No. 75.)

Are dressed exactly as the wild duck; only that less time is requisite
for a widgeon, and still less for a teal.

_Woodcock._--(No. 76.)

Woodcocks should not be drawn, as the trail is by the lovers of “_haut
goût_” considered a “_bonne bouche_;” truss their legs close to the
body, and run an iron skewer through each thigh, close to the body, and
tie them on a small bird spit; put them to roast at a clear fire; cut as
many slices of bread as you have birds, toast or fry them a delicate
brown, and lay them in the dripping-pan under the birds to catch the
trail;[144-*] baste them with butter, and froth them with flour; lay
the toast on a hot dish, and the birds on the toast; pour some good beef
gravy into the dish, and send some up in a boat, see _Obs._ to No. 329:
twenty or thirty minutes will roast them. Garnish with slices of lemon.

_Obs._--Some epicures like this bird very much under-done, and direct
that a woodcock should be just introduced to the cook, for her to show
it the fire, and then send it up to table.

_Snipes_,--(No. 77.)

Differ little from woodcocks, unless in size; they are to be dressed in
the same way, but require about five minutes less time to roast them.

For sauce, see No. 338.

_Pigeons._--(No. 78.)

When the pigeons are ready for roasting, if you are desired to stuff
them, chop some green parsley very fine, the liver, and a bit of butter
together, with a little pepper and salt, or with the stuffing ordered
for a fillet of veal (No. 374 or No. 375), and fill the belly of each
bird with it. They will be done enough in about twenty or thirty
minutes; send up parsley and butter (No. 261,) in the dish under them,
and some in a boat, and garnish with crisp parsley (No. 318), or fried
bread crumbs (No. 320), or bread sauce (No. 321), or gravy (No. 329).

_Obs._--When pigeons are fresh they have their full relish; but it goes
entirely off with a very little keeping; nor is it in any way so well
preserved as by roasting them: when they are put into a pie they are
generally baked to rags, and taste more of pepper and salt than of any
thing else.

A little melted butter may be put into the dish with them, and the gravy
that runs from them will mix with it into fine sauce. Pigeons are in the
greatest perfection from midsummer to Michaelmas; there is then the most
plentiful and best food for them; and their finest growth is just when
they are full feathered. When they are in the pen-feathers, they are
flabby; when they are full grown, and have flown some time, they are
tough. Game and poultry are best when they have just done growing, _i.
e._ as soon as nature has perfected her work.

This was the secret of Solomon, the famous pigeon-feeder of Turnham
Green, who is celebrated by the poet Gay, when he says,

“That Turnham Green, which dainty pigeons fed,
But feeds no more, for _Solomon_ is dead.”

_Larks and other small Birds._--(No. 80.)

These delicate little birds are in high season in November. When they
are picked, gutted, and cleaned, truss them; brush them with the yelk of
an egg, and then roll them in bread-crumbs: spit them on a lark-spit,
and tie that on to a larger spit; ten or fifteen minutes at a quick fire
will do them enough; baste them with fresh butter while they are
roasting, and sprinkle them with bread-crumbs till they are well covered
with them.

For the sauce, fry some grated bread in clarified butter, see No. 259,
and set it to drain before the fire, that it may harden: serve the
crumbs under the larks when you dish them, and garnish them with slices
of lemon.

_Wheatears_,--(No. 81.)

Are dressed in the same way as larks.

_Lobster._--(No. 82.)

See receipt for boiling (No. 176).

We give no receipt for roasting lobster, tongue, &c. being of opinion
with Dr. King, who says,

“By roasting that which our forefathers boiled,
And boiling what they roasted, much is spoiled.”

FOOTNOTES:

[122-*] This joint is said to owe its _name_ to king Charles the Second,
who, dining upon a loin of beef, and being particularly pleased with it,
asked the name of the joint; said for its merit it should be _knighted_,
and henceforth called _Sir-Loin_.

[123-*] “In the present _fashion_ of FATTENING CATTLE, it is more
desirable to roast away the fat than to preserve it. If the honourable
societies of agriculturists, at the time they consulted a learned
professor about the composition of manures, had consulted some competent
authority on the nature of animal substances, the public might have
escaped the overgrown corpulency of the animal flesh, which every where
fills the markets.”--_Domestic Management_, 12mo. 1813, p. 182.

“Game, and other wild animals proper for food, are of very superior
qualities to the tame, from the total contrast of the circumstances
attending them. They have a free range of exercise in the open air, and
choose their own food, the good effects of which are very evident in a
short, delicate texture of flesh, found only in them. Their juices and
flavour are more pure, and their _fat_, when it is in any degree, as in
venison, and some other instances, differs as much from that of our
_fatted_ animals, as silver and gold from the grosser metals. The
superiority of WELCH MUTTON and SCOTCH BEEF is owing to a similar
cause.”--_Ibid._, p. 150.

If there is more FAT than you think will be eaten with the meat; cut it
off; it will make an excellent PUDDING (No. 554); or clarify it, (No.
84) and use it for frying: for those who like their meat done
thoroughly, and use a moderate fire for roasting, the fat need not be
covered with paper.

_If your beef is large_, and your family small, cut off the thin end and
salt it, and cut out and dress the fillet (_i. e._ commonly called the
inside) next day as MOCK HARE (No. 66*): thus you get _three good hot
dinners_. See also No. 483, on made dishes. For SAUCE _for cold beef_,
see No. 359, cucumber vinegar, No. 399, and horseradish vinegar, Nos.
399* and 458.

[123-+] “This joint is often spoiled for the next day’s use, by an
injudicious mode of carving. If you object to the outside, take the
brown off, and help the next: by the cutting it only on one side, you
preserve the gravy in the meat, and the goodly appearance also; by
cutting it, on the contrary, down the middle of this joint, all the
gravy runs out, it becomes dry, and exhibits a most unseemly aspect when
brought to table a second time.”--From UDE’S _Cookery_, 8vo. 1818, p.
109.

[124-*] DEAN SWIFT’S _receipt to roast mutton_.

To GEMINIANI’S beautiful air--“_Gently touch the warbling lyre_.”

“Gently stir and blow the fire,
Lay the mutton down to roast,
Dress it quickly, I desire,
In the dripping put a toast,
That I hunger may remove;--
Mutton is the meat I love.

“On the dresser see it lie;
Oh! the charming white and red!
Finer meat ne’er met the eye,
On the sweetest grass it fed;
Let the jack go swiftly round,
Let me have it nicely brown’d.

“On the table spread the cloth,
Let the knives be sharp and clean,
Pickles get and salad both,
Let them each be fresh and green.
With small beer, good ale, and wine,
O, ye gods! how I shall dine!”

[124-+] See the chapter of ADVICE TO COOKS.

[125-*] _Common cooks very seldom brown the ends of necks and loins_; to
have this done nicely, let the fire be a few inches longer at each end
than the joint that is roasting, and occasionally place the spit
slanting, so that each end may get sufficient fire; otherwise, after the
meat is done, you must take it up, and put the ends before the fire.

[127-*] To MINCE or HASH VEAL see No. 511, or 511*, and to make a RAGOUT
of cold veal, No. 512.

[131-*] _Priscilla Haslehurst_, in her _Housekeeper’s Instructor_, 8vo.
Sheffield, 1819, p. 19, gives us a receipt “to goosify a shoulder of
lamb.” “Un grand Cuisinier,” informed me that “_to lambify_” the leg of
a porkling is a favourite metamorphosis in the French kitchen, when
house lamb is very dear.

[133-*] MONS. GRIMOD designates this “_Animal modeste, ennemi du faste,
et le roi des animaux immondes_.” Maitland, in p. 758, of vol. ii. of
his _History of London_, reckons that the number of _sucking-pigs_
consumed in the city of London in the year 1725, amounted to 52,000.

[133-+] Some _delicately sensitive_ palates desire the cook to _parboil_
the sage and onions (before they are cut), to soften and take off the
rawness of their flavour; the older and drier the onion, the stronger
will be its flavour; and the learned EVELYN orders these to be
_edulcorated_ by gentle maceration.

[133-++] An ancient culinary sage says, “When you see a pig’s eyes drop
out, you may be satisfied he has had enough of the fire!” This is no
criterion that the body of the pig is done enough, but arises merely
from the briskness of the fire before the head of it.

[137-*] If you think the flavour of raw onions too strong, cut them in
slices, and lay them in cold water for a couple of hours, or add as much
apple or potato as you have of onion.

[137-+] Although the whole is rather too luscious for the lingual nerves
of the good folks of Great Britain, the livers of poultry are considered
a very high relish by our continental neighbours; and the following
directions how to procure them in perfection, we copy from the recipe of
“_un Vieil Amateur de Bonne Chère_.”

“The liver of a duck, or a goose, which has submitted to the rules and
orders that men of taste have invented for the amusement of his
sebaceous glands, is a superlative exquisite to the palate of a Parisian
epicure; but, alas! the poor goose, to produce this darling dainty, must
endure sad torments. He must be crammed with meat, deprived of drink,
and kept constantly before a hot fire: a miserable martyrdom indeed! and
would be truly intolerable if his reflections on the consequences of his
sufferings did not afford him some consolation; but the glorious
prospect of the delightful growth of his liver gives him courage and
support; and when he thinks how speedily it will become almost as big as
his body, how high it will rank on the list of double relishes, and with
what ecstasies it will be eaten by the fanciers “_des Foies gras_,” he
submits to his destiny without a sigh. The famous _Strasburg pies_ are
made with livers thus prepared, and sell for an enormous price.”

However incredible this _ordonnance_ for the obesitation of a goose’s
liver may appear at first sight, will it not seem equally so to
after-ages, that in this enlightened country, in 1821, we encouraged a
folly as much greater, as its operation was more universal? Will it be
believed, that it was then considered the _acme_ of perfection in beef
and mutton, that it should be so _over_-fattened, that a poor man, to
obtain one pound of meat that he could eat, must purchase another which
he could not, unless converted into a suet pudding: moreover, that the
highest premiums were annually awarded to those who produced sheep and
oxen in the most extreme stale of _morbid obesity_?!!

----“expensive plans
For deluging of dripping-pans.”

[141-*] This, in culinary technicals, is called _casing_ it upon the
same principle that “eating, drinking, and sleeping,” are termed
_non-naturals_.

[141-+] Mrs. Charlotte Mason, in her “_Complete System of Cookery_,”
page 283, says, she has “tried all the different things recommended to
baste a hare with, and never found any thing so good as _small beer_;”
others order _milk_; drippings we believe is better than any thing. To
roast a hare nicely, so as to preserve the meat on the back, &c. juicy
and nutritive, requires as much attention as a sucking-pig.

Instead of washing, a “_grand Cuisinier_” says, it is much better to
wipe a hare with a thin, dry cloth, as so much washing, or indeed
washing at all, takes away the flavour.

[142-*] Liver sauce, Nos. 287 and 288.

[142-+] “They are only fit to be eaten when the blood runs from the
bill, which is commonly about 6 or 7 days after they have been killed,
otherwise it will have no more savour than a common fowl.”--_Ude’s
Cookery_, 8vo. 1819, page 216.

“Gastronomers, who have any sort of aversion to a peculiar taste in
game, properly kept, had better abstain from this bird, since it is
worse than a common fowl, if not waited for till it acquires the _fumet_
it ought to have. Whole republics of maggots have often been found
rioting under the wings of pheasants; but being _radically_ dispersed,
and the birds properly washed with vinegar, every thing went right, and
every guest, unconscious of the culinary ablutions, enjoyed the
excellent flavour of the Phasian birds.”--_Tabella Cibaria_, p. 55.

[144-*] “This bird has so insinuated itself into the favour of _refined
gourmands_, that they pay it the same honours as the grand Lama, making
a ragoût of its excrements, and devouring them with ecstasy.”--Vide
_Almanach des Gourmands_, vol. i. p. 56.

That exercise produces strength and firmness of fibre is excellently
well exemplified in the _woodcock_ and the _partridge_. The former flies
most--the latter walks; the wing of the woodcock is always very
tough,--of the partridge very tender hence the old doggerel distich,--

“If the _partridge_ had but the _woodcock’s_ thigh,
He’d be the best bird that e’er doth fly.”

The _breast_ of all birds is the most juicy and nutritious part.

FRYING.

_To clarify Drippings._--(No. 83.)

PUT your dripping into a clean sauce-pan over a stove or slow fire; when
it is just going to boil, skim it well, let it boil, and then let it
stand till it is a little cooled; then pour it through a sieve into a
pan.

_Obs._--Well-cleansed drippings,[147-*] and the fat skimmings[147-+] of
the broth-pot, when fresh and sweet, will baste every thing as well as
butter, except game and poultry, and should supply the place of butter
for common fries, &c.; for which they are equal to lard, especially if
you repeat the clarifying twice over.

N.B. If you keep it in a cool place, you may preserve it a fortnight in
summer, and longer in winter. When you have done frying, let the
dripping stand a few minutes to settle, and then pour it through a sieve
into a clean basin or stone pan, and it will do a second and a third
time as well as it did the first; only the fat you have fried fish in
must not be used for any other purpose.

_To clarify Suet to fry with._--(No. 84.)

Cut beef or mutton suet into thin slices, pick out all the veins and
skins, &c., put it into a thick and well-tinned sauce-pan, and set it
over a very slow stove, or in an oven, till it is melted; you must not
hurry it; if not done very slowly it will acquire a burnt taste, which
you cannot get rid of; then strain it through a hair-sieve into a clean
brown pan: when quite cold, tie a paper over it, and keep it for use.
Hog’s lard is prepared in the same way.

_Obs._--The waste occasioned by the present absurd fashion of
over-feeding cattle till the fat is nearly equal to the lean, may, by
good management, be in some measure prevented, by cutting off the
superfluous part, and preparing it as above, or by making it into
puddings; see Nos. 551 and 554, or soup, No. 229.

_Steaks._--(No. 85.)

Cut the steaks rather thinner than for broiling. Put some butter, or No.
83, into an iron frying-pan, and when it is hot, lay in the steaks, and
keep turning them till they are done enough. For sauce, see No. 356, and
for the accompaniments, No. 94.

_Obs._ Unless the fire be prepared on purpose, we like this way of
cooking them; the gravy is preserved, and the meat is more equally
dressed, and more evenly browned; which makes it more relishing, and
invites the eye to encourage the appetite.

_Beef-steaks and Onions._--(No. 86. See also No. 501.)

Fry the steaks according to the directions given in the preceding
receipt; and have ready for them some onions prepared as directed in No.
299.

For stewed rump-steaks, see Nos. 500 and 501.

_Sausages_,--(No. 87.)

Are best when quite fresh made. Put a bit of butter, or dripping (No.
83), into a clean frying-pan; as soon as it is melted (before it gets
hot) put in the sausages, and shake the pan for a minute, and keep
turning them (be careful not to break or prick them in so doing); fry
them over a very slow fire till they are nicely browned on all sides;
when they are done, lay them on a hair-sieve, placed before the fire for
a couple of minutes to drain the fat from them. The secret of frying
sausages is, to let them get hot very gradually; they then will not
burst, if they are not stale.

The common practice to prevent their bursting, is to prick them with a
fork; but this lets the gravy out.

You may froth them by rubbing them with cold fresh butter, and lightly
dredge them with flour, and put them in a cheese-toaster or Dutch oven
for a minute.

Some over-economical cooks insist that no butter or lard, &c. is
required, their own fat being sufficient to fry them: we have tried it;
the sausages were partially scorched, and had that piebald appearance
that all fried things have when sufficient fat is not allowed.

_Obs._ Poached eggs (No. 548), pease-pudding (No. 555), and mashed
potatoes (No. 106) are agreeable accompaniments to sausages; and
sausages are as welcome with boiled or roasted poultry or veal, or
boiled tripe (No. 18); so are ready-dressed German sausages (see _Mem._
to No. 13); and a convenient, easily digestible, and invigorating food
for the aged, and those whose teeth are defective; as is also No. 503.
For sauce No. 356; to make mustard, Nos. 369 and 370.

N.B. Sausages, when finely chopped, are a delicate “_bonne bouche_;” and
require very little assistance from the teeth to render them quite ready
for the stomach.

_Sweetbreads full-dressed._--(No. 88.)

Parboil them, and let them get cold; then cut them in pieces, about
three-quarters of an inch thick; dip them in the yelk of an egg, then in
fine bread-crumbs (some add spice, lemon-peel, and sweet herbs); put
some clean dripping (No. 83) into a frying-pan: when it boils, put in
the sweetbreads, and fry them a fine brown. For garnish, crisp parsley;
and for sauce, mushroom catchup and melted butter, or anchovy sauce, or
Nos. 356, 343, or 343*, or bacon or ham, as Nos. 526 and 527.

_Sweetbreads plain._--(No. 89.)

Parboil and slice them as before, dry them on a clean cloth, flour them,
and fry them a delicate brown; take care to drain the fat well from
them, and garnish them with slices of lemon, and sprigs of chervil or
parsley, or crisp parsley (No. 318). For sauce, No. 356, or No. 307, and
slices of ham or bacon, as No. 526, or No. 527, or forcemeat balls made
as Nos. 375 and 378.

⁂ Take care to have a fresh sweetbread; it spoils sooner than almost
any thing, therefore should be parboiled as soon as it comes in. This is
called blanching, or setting it; mutton kidneys (No. 95) are sometimes
broiled and sent up with sweetbreads.

_Veal Cutlets._--(No. 90 and No. 521.)

Let your cutlets be about half an inch thick; trim them, and flatten
them with a cleaver; you may fry them in fresh butter, or good drippings
(No. 83); when brown on one side, turn them and do the other; if the
fire is very fierce, they must change sides oftener. The time they will
take depends on the thickness of the cutlet and the heat of the fire;
half an inch thick will take about fifteen minutes. Make some gravy, by
putting the trimmings into a stew-pan with a little soft water, an
onion, a roll of lemon-peel, a blade of mace, a sprig of thyme and
parsley, and a bay leaf; stew over a slow fire an hour, then strain it;
put an ounce of butter into a stew-pan; as soon as it is melted, mix
with it as much flour as will dry it up, stir it over the fire for a few
minutes, then add the gravy by degrees till it is all mixed, boil it for
five minutes, and strain it through a tamis sieve, and put it to the
cutlets; you may add some browning (No. 322), mushroom (No. 439), or
walnut catchup, or lemon pickle, &c.: see also sauces, Nos. 343 and 348.
_Or_,

Cut the veal into pieces about as big as a crown-piece, beat them with a
cleaver, dip them in eggs beat up with a little salt, and then in fine
bread-crumbs; fry them a light brown in boiling lard; serve under them
some good gravy or mushroom sauce (No. 307), which may be made in five
minutes. Garnish with slices of ham or rashers of bacon (Nos. 526 and
527), or pork sausages (No. 87).

_Obs._ Veal forcemeat or stuffing (Nos. 374, 375, and 378), pork
sausages (No. 87), rashers of bacon (Nos. 526 and 527), are very
relishing accompaniments, fried and sent up in the form of balls or
cakes, and laid round as a garnish.

_Lamb, or Mutton Chops_,--(No. 92.)

Are dressed in the same way, and garnished with crisp parsley (No. 318)
and slices of lemon.

If they are bread-crumbed and covered with buttered writing-paper, and
then broiled, they are called “maintenon cutlets.”

_Pork Chops._--(No. 93.)

Cut the chops about half an inch thick; trim them neatly (few cooks have
any idea how much credit they get by this); put a frying-pan on the
fire, with a bit of butter; as soon as it is hot, put in your chops,
turning them often till brown all over, they will be done enough in
about fifteen minutes; take one upon a plate and try it; if done,
season it with a little finely-minced onion, powdered sage, and pepper
and salt. For gravy and sauce, see Nos. 300, 304, 341, and 356.

_Obs._ A little powdered sage, &c. strewed over them, will give them a
nice relish, or the savoury powder in No. 51, or forcemeat sausages like
No. 378.

Do not have them cut too thick, about three chops to an inch and a
quarter; trim them neatly, beat them flat, have ready some sweet herbs,
or sage and onion chopped fine, put them in a stew-pan with a bit of
butter about as big as a walnut, let them have one fry, beat two eggs on
a plate with a little salt, add to them the herbs, mix it all well
together, dip the chops in one at a time all over, and then with
bread-crumbs fry them in hot lard or drippings till they are a light
brown.

_Obs._ Veal, lamb, or mutton chops, are very good dressed in like
manner.

To fry fish, see No. 145.

N.B. To fry eggs and omelets, and other things, see No. 545, and the
Index.

FOOTNOTES:

[147-*] MRS. MELROE, in her _Economical Cookery_, page 7, tells us, she
has ascertained from actual experiments, that “the _drippings_ of roast
meat, combined with wheat flour, oatmeal, barley, pease, or
potato-starch, will make delicious soup, agreeable and savoury to the
palate, and nutritive and serviceable to the stomach; and that while a
joint is roasting, good soup may be made from the drippings of the FAT,
which is the _essence of meat_, as seeds are of vegetables, and
impregnates SOUP _with the identical taste of meat_.”

“Writers on cookery give strict directions to carefully _skim off the
fat_, and in the next sentence order butter (a much more expensive
article) to be added: instead of this, when any fat appears at the top
of your soup or stew, _do not skim it_ off, but unite it with the broth
by means of the vegetable mucilages, flour, oatmeal, ground barley, or
potato-starch; when suspended the soup is equally agreeable to the
palate nutritive to the stomach,” &c.

“Cooks bestow a great deal of pains to make gravies; they stew and boil
lean meat for hours, and, after all, their cookery tastes more of pepper
and salt than any thing else. If they would add the bulk of a chesnut of
solid fat to a common-sized sauce-boatful of gravy, it will give it more
sapidity than twenty hours’ stewing lean meat would, unless a larger
quantity was used than is warranted by the rules of frugality.” See Nos.
205 and 229.

“The experiments of _Dr. Stark_ on the nourishing powers of different
substances, go very far to prove that three ounces of the fat of boiled
beef are equal to a pound of the lean. _Dr. Pages_, the traveller,
confirms this opinion: ‘Being obliged,’ says he, ‘during the journey
from North to South America by land, to live solely on animal food, I
experienced the truth of what is observed by hunters, who live solely on
animal food, viz. that besides their receiving little nourishment from
the leaner parts of it, it soon becomes offensive to the taste; whereas
the fat is both more nutritive, and continues to be agreeable to the
palate. To many stomachs fat is unpleasant and indigestible, especially
when converted into oil by heat; this may be easily prevented, by the
simple process of combining the fat completely with water, by the
intervention of vegetable mucilage, as in melting butter, by means of
flour, the butter and water are united into a homogeneous fluid.’”--From
_Practical Economy, by a Physician_. Callow, 1801.

[147-+] See note at the foot of No. 201.

BROILING.

_Chops or Steaks._[151-*]--(No. 94.)

To stew them, see No. 500, ditto with onions, No. 501.

Those who are nice about steaks, never attempt to have them, except in
weather which permits the meat to be hung till it is tender, and give
the butcher some days’ notice of their wish for them.

If, friendly reader, you wish to entertain your mouth with a superlative
beef-steak, you must have the inside of the sirloin cut into steaks. The
next best steaks are those cut from the middle of a rump, that has been
killed at least four days in moderate weather, and much longer in cold
weather, when they can be cut about six inches long, four inches wide,
and half an inch thick: do not beat them, which vulgar trick breaks the
cells in which the gravy of the meat is contained, and it becomes dry
and tasteless.

N.B. If your butcher sends steaks which are not tender, we do not insist
that you should object to let him be beaten.

Desire the butcher to cut them of even thickness; if he does not, divide
the thicker from the thinner pieces, and give them time accordingly.

Take care to have a very clear, brisk fire; throw a little salt on it;
make the gridiron hot, and set it slanting, to prevent the fat from
dropping into the fire, and making a smoke. It requires more practice
and care than is generally supposed to do steaks to a nicety; and for
want of these little attentions, this very common dish, which every body
is supposed capable of dressing, seldom comes to table in perfection.

Ask those you cook for, if they like it under, or thoroughly done; and
what accompaniments they like best; it is usual to put a table-spoonful
of catchup (No. 439), or a little minced eschalot, or No. 402, into a
dish before the fire; while you are broiling, turn the steak, &c. with a
pair of steak-tongs, it will be done in about ten or fifteen minutes;
rub a bit of butter over it, and send it up garnished with pickles and
finely-scraped horse-radish. Nos. 135, 278, 299, 255, 402, 423, 439, and
356, are the sauces usually composed for chops and steaks.

N.B. Macbeth’s receipt for beef-steaks is the best--

----“_when ’t is done, ’t were well
If ’t were done quickly._”

_Obs._ “_Le véritable_ BIFTECK, _comme il se fait en Angleterre_,” as
Mons. Beauvilliers calls (in his _l’Art du Cuisinier_, tom. i. 8vo.
Paris, 1814, p. 122) what he says we call “_romesteck_,” is as highly
esteemed by our French neighbours, as their “_ragoûts_” are by our
countrymen, who

----“post to Paris go,
Merely to taste their soups, and mushrooms know.”

KING’S _Art of Cookery_, p. 79.

These lines were written before the establishment of Albion house,
Aldersgate Street, where every luxury that nature and art produce is
served of the primest quality, and in the most scientific manner, in a
style of princely magnificence and perfect comfort: the wines, liqueurs,
&c. are superlative, and every department of the business of the
banquet is conducted in the most liberal manner.

The French author whom we have before so often quoted, assures _les
amateurs de bonne chère_ on the other side of the water, it is well
worth their while to cross the channel to taste this favourite English
dish, which, when “_mortifiée à son point_” and well dressed, he says,
is superior to most of the subtle double relishes of the Parisian
kitchen. _Almanach des Gourmands_, vol. i. p. 27.

Beef is justly accounted the most nutritious animal food, and is
entitled to the same rank among solid, that brandy is among liquid
stimuli.

The celebrated TRAINER, Sir Thomas Parkyns, of Bunny Park, Bart., in his
book on _Wrestling_, 4to. 3d edit. 1727, p. 10, &c., greatly prefers
beef-eaters to sheep-biters, as he called those who ate mutton.

When Humphries the pugilist was trained by Ripsham, the keeper of
Ipswich jail, he was at first fed on beef, but got so much flesh, it was
changed for mutton, roasted or broiled: when broiled, great part of the
nutritive juices of the meat is extracted.

The principles upon which training[153-*] is conducted, resolve
themselves into temperance without abstemiousness, and exercise without
fatigue.

_Kidneys._--(No. 95.)

Cut them through the long way, score them, sprinkle a little pepper and
salt on them, and run a wire skewer through them to keep them from
curling on the gridiron, so that they may be evenly broiled.

Broil them over a very clear fire, turning them often till they are
done; they will take about ten or twelve minutes, if the fire is brisk:
or fry them in butter, and make gravy for them in the pan (after you
have taken out the kidneys), by putting in a tea-spoonful of flour; as
soon as it looks brown, put in as much water as will make gravy; they
will take five minutes more to fry than to broil. For sauce, Nos. 318,
355, and 356.

_Obs._ Some cooks chop a few parsley-leaves very fine, and mix them with
a bit of fresh butter and a little pepper and salt, and put a little of
this mixture on each kidney.

_A Fowl or Rabbit, &c._--(No. 97.)

We can only recommend this method of dressing when the fire is not good
enough for roasting.

Pick and truss it the same as for boiling, cut it open down the back,
wipe the inside clean with a cloth, season it with a little pepper and
salt, have a clear fire, and set the gridiron at a good distance over
it, lay the chicken on with the inside towards the fire (you may egg it
and strew some grated bread over it), and broil it till it is a fine
brown: take care the fleshy side is not burned. Lay it on a hot dish;
pickled mushrooms, or mushroom sauce (No. 305), thrown over it, or
parsley and butter (No. 261), or melted butter flavoured with mushroom
catchup (No. 307).

Garnish it with slices of lemon; and the liver and gizzard slit and
notched, seasoned with pepper and salt, and broiled nicely brown, with
some slices of lemon. For grill sauce, see No. 355.

N.B. “It was a great mode, and taken up by the court party in Oliver
Cromwell’s time, to roast half capons, pretending they had a more
exquisite taste and nutriment than when dressed whole.” See JOAN
CROMWELL’S _Kitchen_, London, 1664, page 39.

_Pigeons_,--(No. 98.)

To be worth the trouble of picking, must be well grown, and well fed.

Clean them well, and pepper and salt them; broil them over a clear, slow
fire; turn them often, and put a little butter on them: when they are
done, pour over them, either stewed (No. 305) or pickled mushrooms, or
catchup and melted butter (No. 307, or No. 348 or 355).

Garnish with fried bread-crumbs or sippets (No. 319): or, when the
pigeons are trussed as for boiling, flat them with a cleaver, taking
care not to break the skin of the backs or breasts. Season them with
pepper and salt, a little bit of butter, and a tea-spoonful of water,
and tie them close at both ends; so that when they are brought to table,
they bring their sauce with them. Egg and dredge them well with grated
bread (mixed with spice and sweet herbs, if you please); then lay them
on the gridiron, and turn them frequently: if your fire is not very
clear, lay them on a sheet of paper well buttered, to keep them from
getting smoked. They are much better broiled whole.

The same sauce as in the preceding receipt, or No. 343 or 348.

VEAL CUTLETS (No. 521 and No. 90). PORK CHOPS (No. 93).

FOOTNOTES:

[151-*] The season for these is from the 29th of _September_ to the 25th
of _March_; to ensure their being tender when out of season, STEW THEM
as in receipt No. 500.

TO WARM UP COLD RUMP-STEAKS.

Lay them in a stew-pan, with one large onion cut in quarters, six
berries of allspice, the same of black pepper, cover the steaks with
boiling water, let them stew gently one hour, thicken the liquor with
flour and butter rubbed together on a plate; if a pint of gravy, about
one ounce of flour, and the like weight of butter, will do; put it into
the stew-pan, shake it well over the fire for five minutes, and it is
ready; lay the steaks and onions on a dish and pour the gravy through a
sieve over them.

[153-*] See “THE ART OF INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING LIFE,” by the editor
of “THE COOK’S ORACLE.” Published by G. B. Whittaker, No. 13, Ave-Maria
Lane.

VEGETABLES.

_Sixteen Ways of dressing Potatoes._[155-*]--(No. 102.)

The vegetable kingdom affords no food more wholesome, more easily
procured, easily prepared, or less expensive, than the potato: yet,
although this most useful vegetable is dressed almost every day, in
almost every family, for one plate of potatoes that comes to table as it
should, ten are spoiled.

Be careful in your choice of potatoes: no vegetable varies so much in
colour, size, shape, consistence, and flavour.

The reddish-coloured are better than the white, but the
yellowish-looking ones are the best. Choose those of a moderate size,
free from blemishes, and fresh, and buy them in the mould. They must not
be wetted till they are cleaned to be cooked. Protect them from the air
and frost, by laying them in heaps in a cellar, covering them with mats,
or burying them in sand or in earth. The action of frost is most
destructive: if it be considerable, the life of the vegetable is
destroyed, and the potato speedily rots.

Wash them, but do not pare or cut them, unless they are very large. Fill
a sauce-pan half full of potatoes of equal size[155-+] (or make them so
by dividing the larger ones), put to them as much cold water as will
cover them about an inch: they are sooner boiled, and more savoury, than
when drowned in water. Most boiled things are spoiled by having too
little water, but potatoes are often spoiled by too much: they must
merely be covered, and a little allowed for waste in boiling, so that
they may be just covered at the finish.

Set them on a moderate fire till they boil; then take them off, and put
them by the side of the fire to simmer slowly till they are soft enough
to admit a fork (place no dependence on the usual test of their skins’
cracking, which, if they are boiled fast, will happen to some potatoes
when they are not half done, and the insides quite hard). Then pour the
water off (if you let the potatoes remain in the water a moment after
they are done enough, they will become waxy and watery), uncover the
sauce-pan, and set it at such a distance from the fire as will secure it
from burning; their superfluous moisture will evaporate, and the
potatoes will be perfectly dry and mealy.

You may afterward place a napkin, folded up to the size of the
sauce-pan’s diameter, over the potatoes, to keep them hot and mealy till
wanted.

_Obs._--This method of managing potatoes is in every respect equal to
steaming them; and they are dressed in half the time.

There is such an infinite variety of sorts and sizes of potatoes, that
it is impossible to say how long they will take doing: the best way is
to try them with a fork. Moderate-sized potatoes will generally be done
enough in fifteen or twenty minutes. See _Obs._ to No. 106.

_Cold Potatoes fried._--(No. 102*.)

Put a bit of clean dripping into a frying-pan: when it is melted, slice
in your potatoes with a little pepper and salt; put them on the fire;
keep stirring them: when they are quite hot, they are ready.

_Obs._--This is a very good way of re-dressing potatoes, or see No. 106.

_Potatoes boiled and broiled._--(No. 103.)

Dress your potatoes as before directed, and put them on a gridiron over
a very clear and brisk fire: turn them till they are brown all over, and
send them up dry, with melted butter in a cup.

_Potatoes fried in Slices or Shavings._--(No. 104.)

Peel large potatoes; slice them about a quarter of an inch thick, or cut
them in shavings round and round, as you would peel a lemon; dry them
well in a clean cloth, and fry them in lard or dripping. Take care that
your fat and frying-pan are quite clean; put it on a quick fire, watch
it, and as soon as the lard boils, and is still, put in the slices of
potato, and keep moving them till they are crisp. Take them up, and lay
them to drain on a sieve: send them up with a very little salt sprinkled
over them.

_Potatoes fried whole._--(No. 105.)

When nearly boiled enough, as directed in No. 102, put them into a
stew-pan with a bit of butter, or some nice clean beef-drippings; shake
them about often (for fear of burning them), till they are brown and
crisp; drain them from the fat.

_Obs._--It will be an elegant improvement to the last three receipts,
previous to frying or broiling the potatoes, to flour them and dip them
in the yelk of an egg, and then roll them in fine-sifted bread-crumbs;
they will then deserve to be called POTATOES FULL DRESSED.

_Potatoes mashed._--(No. 106. See also No. 112.)

When your potatoes are thoroughly boiled, drain them quite dry, pick out
every speck, &c., and while hot, rub them through a colander into a
clean stew-pan. To a pound of potatoes put about half an ounce of
butter, and a table-spoonful of milk: do not make them too moist; mix
them well together.

_Obs._--After Lady-day, when the potatoes are getting old and specky,
and in frosty weather, this is the best way of dressing them. You may
put them into shapes or small tea-cups; egg them with yelk of egg, and
brown them very slightly before a slow fire. See No. 108.

_Potatoes mashed with Onions._--(No. 107.)

Prepare some boiled onions by putting them through a sieve, and mix them
with potatoes. In proportioning the onions to the potatoes, you will be
guided by your wish to have more or less of their flavour.

_Obs._--See note under No. 555.

_Potatoes escalloped._--(No. 108.)

Mash potatoes as directed in No. 106; then butter some nice clean
scollop-shells, patty-pans, or tea-cups or saucers; put in your
potatoes; make them smooth at the top; cross a knife over them; strew a
few fine bread-crumbs on them; sprinkle them with a paste-brush with a
few drops of melted butter, and then set them in a Dutch oven; when they
are browned on the top, take them carefully out of the shells and brown
the other side.

_Colcannon._--(No. 108*.)

Boil potatoes and greens, or spinage, separately; mash the potatoes;
squeeze the greens dry; chop them quite fine, and mix them with the
potatoes, with a little butter, pepper, and salt; put it into a mould,
buttering it well first; let it stand in a hot oven for ten minutes.

_Potatoes roasted._--(No. 109.)

Wash and dry your potatoes (all of a size), and put them in a tin Dutch
oven, or cheese-toaster: take care not to put them too near the fire, or
they will get burned on the outside before they are warmed through.

Large potatoes will require two hours to roast them.

N.B. To save time and trouble, some cooks half boil them first.

This is one of the best opportunities the BAKER has to rival the cook.

_Potatoes roasted under Meat._--(No. 110.)

Half boil large potatoes, drain the water from them, and put them into
an earthen dish, or small tin pan, under meat that is roasting, and
baste them with some of the dripping: when they are browned on one side,
turn them and brown the other; send them up round the meat, or in a
small dish.

_Potato Balls._--(No. 111.)

Mix mashed potatoes with the yelk of an egg; roll them into balls; flour
them, or egg and bread-crumb them; and fry them in clean drippings, or
brown them in a Dutch oven.

_Potato Balls Ragoût_,--(No. 112.)

Are made by adding to a pound of potatoes a quarter of a pound of grated
ham, or some sweet herbs, or chopped parsley, an onion or eschalot,
salt, pepper, and a little grated nutmeg, or other spice, with the yelk
of a couple of eggs: they are then to be dressed as No. 111.

_Obs._--An agreeable vegetable relish, and a good supper-dish.

_Potato Snow._--(No. 114.)

The potatoes must be free from spots, and the whitest you can pick out;
put them on in cold water; when they begin to crack strain the water
from them, and put them into a clean stew-pan by the side of the fire
till they are quite dry, and fall to pieces; rub them through a wire
sieve on the dish they are to be sent up in, and do not disturb them
afterward.

_Potato Pie._--(No. 115.)

Peel and slice your potatoes very thin into a pie-dish; between each
layer of potatoes put a little chopped onion (three-quarters of an ounce
of onion is sufficient for a pound of potatoes); between each layer
sprinkle a little pepper and salt; put in a little water, and cut about
two ounces of fresh butter into little bits, and lay them on the top:
cover it close with puff paste. It will take about an hour and a half to
bake it.

N.B. The yelks of four eggs (boiled hard) may be added; and when baked,
a table-spoonful of good mushroom catchup poured in through a funnel.

_Obs._--Cauliflowers divided into mouthfuls, and button onions, seasoned
with curry powder, &c. make a favourite vegetable pie.

_New Potatoes._--(No. 116.)

The best way to clean new potatoes is to rub them with a coarse cloth or
flannel, a or scrubbing-brush, and proceed as in No. 102.

N.B. New potatoes are poor, watery, and insipid, till they are full two
inches in diameter: they are not worth the trouble of boiling before
midsummer day.

_Obs._--Some cooks prepare sauces to pour over potatoes, made with
butter, salt, and pepper, or gravy, or melted butter and catchup; or
stew the potatoes in ale, or water seasoned with pepper and salt; or
bake them with herrings or sprats, mixed with layers of potatoes,
seasoned with pepper, salt, sweet herbs, vinegar, and water; or cut
mutton or beef into slices, and lay them in a stew-pan, and on them
potatoes and spices, then another layer of the meat alternately, pouring
in a little water, covering it up very close, and slewing slowly.

Potato mucilage (a good substitute for arrow-root), No. 448.[159-*]

_Jerusalem Artichokes_,--(No. 117.)

Are boiled and dressed in the various ways we have just before directed
for potatoes.

N.B. They should be covered with thick melted butter, or a nice white or
brown sauce.

_Cabbage._--(No. 118.)

Pick cabbages very clean, and wash them thoroughly; then look them over
carefully again; quarter them if they are very large. Put them into a
sauce-pan with plenty of boiling water; if any scum rises, take it off;
put a large spoonful of salt into the sauce-pan, and boil them till the
stalks feel tender. A young cabbage will take about twenty minutes or
half an hour; when full grown, near an hour: see that they are well
covered with water all the time, and that no smoke or dirt arises from
stirring the fire. With careful management, they will look as beautiful
when dressed as they did when growing.

_Obs._--Some cooks say, that it will much ameliorate the flavour of
strong old cabbages to boil them in two waters; _i. e._ when they are
half done, to take them out, and put them directly into another
sauce-pan of boiling water, instead of continuing them in the water into
which they were first put.

_Boiled Cabbage fried._--(No. 119.)

See receipt for Bubble and Squeak.

_Savoys_,--(No. 120.)

Are boiled in the same manner; quarter them when you send them to table.

_Sprouts and young Greens._--(No. 121.)

The receipt we have written for cabbages will answer as well for
sprouts, only they will be boiled enough in fifteen or twenty minutes.

_Spinage._--(No. 122.)

Spinage should be picked a leaf at a time, and washed in three or four
waters; when perfectly clean, lay it on a sieve or colander, to drain
the water from it.

Put a sauce-pan on the fire three parts filled with water, and large
enough for the spinage to float in it; put a small handful of salt in
it; let it boil; skim it, and then put in the spinage; make it boil as
quick as possible till quite tender, pressing the spinage down
frequently that it may be done equally; it will be done enough in about
ten minutes, if boiled in plenty of water: if the spinage is a little
old, give it a few minutes longer. When done, strain it on the back of a
sieve; squeeze it dry with a plate, or between two trenchers; chop it
fine, and put it into a stew-pan with a bit of butter and a little salt:
a little cream is a great improvement, or instead of either some rich
gravy. Spread it in a dish, and score it into squares of proper size to
help at table.

_Obs._--Grated nutmeg, or mace, and a little lemon-juice, is a favourite
addition with some cooks, and is added when you stir it up in the
stew-pan with the butter garnished. Spinage is frequently served with
poached eggs and fried bread.

_Asparagus._--(No. 123.)

Set a stew-pan with plenty of water in it on the fire; sprinkle a
handful of salt in it; let it boil, and skim it; then put in your
asparagus, prepared thus: scrape all the stalks till they are perfectly
clean; throw them into a pan of cold water as you scrape them; when they
are all done, tie them up in little bundles, of about a quarter of a
hundred each, with bass, if you can get it, or tape (string cuts them to
pieces); cut off the stalks at the bottom that they may be all of a
length, leaving only just enough to serve as a handle for the green
part; when they are tender at the stalk, which will be in from twenty to
thirty minutes, they are done enough. Great care must be taken to watch
the exact time of their becoming tender; take them up just at that
instant, and they will have their true flavour and colour: a minute or
two more boiling destroys both.

While the asparagus is boiling, toast a round of a quartern loaf, about
half an inch thick; brown it delicately on both sides; dip it lightly in
the liquor the asparagus was boiled in, and lay it in the middle of a
dish: melt some butter (No. 256); then lay in the asparagus upon the
toast, which must project beyond the asparagus, that the company may see
there is a toast.

Pour no butter over them, but send some up in a boat, or white sauce
(No. 2 of No. 364).

_Sea Kale_,--(No. 124.)

Is tied up in bundles, and dressed in the same way as asparagus.

_Cauliflower._--(No. 125.)

Choose those that are close and white, and of the middle size; trim off
the outside leaves; cut the stalk off flat at the bottom; let them lie
in salt and water an hour before you boil them.

Put them into boiling water with a handful of salt in it; skim it well,
and let it boil slowly till done, which a small one will be in fifteen,
a large one in about twenty minutes; take it up the moment it is enough,
a minute or two longer boiling will spoil it.

N.B. Cold cauliflowers and French beans, carrots and turnips, boiled so
as to eat rather crisp, are sometimes dressed as a salad (No. 372 or
453).

_Broccoli._--(No. 126.)

Set a pan of clean cold water on the table, and a saucepan on the fire
with plenty of water, and a handful of salt in it.

Broccoli is prepared by stripping off all the side shoots, leaving the
top; peel off the skin of the stalk with a knife; cut it close off at
the bottom, and put it into the pan of cold water.

When the water in the stew-pan boils, and the broccoli is ready, put it
in; let it boil briskly till the stalks feel tender, from ten to twenty
minutes; take it up with a slice, that you may not break it; let it
drain, and serve up.

If some of the heads of broccoli are much bigger than the others, put
them on to boil first, so that they may get all done together.

_Obs._--It makes a nice supper-dish served upon a toast, like asparagus.
It is a very delicate vegetable, and you must take it up the moment it
is done, and send it to table hot.

_Red Beet-roots_,--(No. 127.)

Are not so much used as they deserve; they are dressed in the same way
as parsnips, only neither scraped nor cut till after they are boiled;
they will take from an hour and a half to three hours in boiling,
according to their size: to be sent to table with salt fish, boiled
beef, &c. When young, large, and juicy, it is a very good variety, an
excellent garnish, and easily converted into a very cheap and pleasant
pickle.

_Parsnips_,--(No. 128.)

Are to be cooked just in the same manner as carrots. They require more
or less time according to their size; therefore match them in size: and
you must try them by thrusting a fork into them as they are in the
water; when that goes easily through, they are done enough. Boil them
from an hour to two hours, according to their size and freshness.

_Obs._ Parsnips are sometimes sent up mashed in the same way as turnips,
and some cooks quarter them before they boil them.[163-*]

_Carrots._--(No. 129.)

Let them be well washed and brushed, not scraped. An hour is enough for
young spring carrots; grown carrots must be cut in half, and will take
from an hour and a half to two hours and a half. When done, rub off the
peels with a clean coarse cloth, and slice them in two or four,
according to their size. The best way to try if they are done enough, is
to pierce them with a fork.

_Obs._ Many people are fond of cold carrot with cold beef; ask if you
shall cook enough for some to be left to send up with the cold meat.

_Turnips._--(No. 130.)

Peel off half an inch of the stringy outside. Full-grown turnips will
take about an hour and a half gentle boiling; if you slice them, which
most people do, they will be done sooner; try them with a fork; when
tender, take them up, and lay them on a sieve till the water is
thoroughly drained from them. Send them up whole; do not slice them.

N.B. To very young turnips leave about two inches of the green top. See
No. 132.

_To mash Turnips._--(No. 131.)

When they are boiled quite tender, squeeze them as dry as possible
between two trenchers; put them into a saucepan; mash them with a wooden
spoon, and rub them through a colander; add a little bit of butter;
keep stirring them till the butter is melted and well mixed with them,
and they are ready for table.

_Turnip-tops_,--(No. 132.)

Are the shoots which grow out (in the spring) of the old turnip-roots.
Put them into cold water an hour before they are to be dressed; the more
water they are boiled in, the better they will look; if boiled in a
small quantity of water they will taste bitter: when the water boils,
put in a small handful of salt, and then your vegetables; if fresh and
young, they will be done in about twenty minutes; drain them on the back
of a sieve.

_French Beans._--(No. 133.)

Cut off the stalk end first, and then turn to the point and strip off
the strings. If not quite fresh, have a bowl of spring-water, with a
little salt dissolved in it, standing before you, and as the beans are
cleaned and stringed, throw them in. When all are done, put them on the
fire in boiling water, with some salt in it; after they have boiled
fifteen or twenty minutes, take one out and taste it; as soon as they
are tender take them up; throw them into a colander or sieve to drain.

To send up the beans whole is much the best method when they are thus
young, and their delicate flavour and colour are much better preserved.
When a little more grown, they must be cut across in two after
stringing; and for common tables they are split, and divided across; cut
them all the same length; but those who are nice never have them at such
a growth as to require splitting.

When they are very large they look pretty cut into lozenges.

_Obs._ See N.B. to No. 125.

_Green Pease._[164-*]--(No. 134.)

Young green pease, well dressed, are among the most delicious delicacies
of the vegetable kingdom. They must be young; it is equally
indispensable that they be fresh gathered, and cooked as soon as they
are shelled for they soon lose both their colour and sweetness.

If you wish to feast upon pease in perfection, you must have them
gathered the same day they are dressed, and put on to boil within half
an hour after they are shelled.

Pass them through a riddle, _i. e._ a coarse sieve, which is made for
the purpose of separating them. This precaution is necessary, for large
and small pease cannot be boiled together, as the former will take more
time than the latter.

For a peck of pease, set on a sauce-pan with a gallon of water in it;
when it boils, put in your pease, with a table-spoonful of salt; skim it
well, keep them boiling quick from twenty to thirty minutes, according
to their age and size. The best way to judge of their being done enough,
and indeed the only way to make sure of cooking them to, and not beyond,
the point of perfection, or, as pea-eaters say, of “boiling them to a
bubble,” is to take them out with a spoon and taste them.

When they are done enough, drain them on a hair-sieve. If you like them
buttered, put them into a pie-dish, divide some butter into small bits,
and lay them on the pease; put another dish over them, and turn them
over and over; this will melt the butter through them; but as all people
do not like buttered pease, you had better send them to table plain, as
they come out of the sauce-pan, with melted butter (No. 256) in a
sauce-tureen. It is usual to boil some mint with the pease; but if you
wish to garnish the pease with mint, boil a few sprigs in a sauce-pan by
themselves. See Sage and Onion Sauce (No. 300), and Pea Powder (No.
458); to boil Bacon (No. 13), Slices of Ham and Bacon (No. 526), and
Relishing Rashers of Bacon (No. 527).

N.B. A peck of young pease will not yield more than enough for a couple
of hearty pea-eaters; when the pods are full, it may serve for three.

MEM. Never think of purchasing pease ready-shelled, for the cogent
reasons assigned in the first part of this receipt.

_Cucumbers stewed._--(No. 135.)

Peel and cut cucumbers in quarters, take out the seeds, and lay them on
a cloth to drain off the water: when they are dry, flour and fry them in
fresh butter; let the butter be quite hot before you put in the
cucumbers; fry them till they are brown, then take them out with an
egg-slice, and lay them on a sieve to drain the fat from them (some
cooks fry sliced onions, or some small button onions, with them, till
they are a delicate light-brown colour, drain them from the fat, and
then put them into a stew-pan with as much gravy as will cover them):
stew slowly till they are tender; take out the cucumbers with a slice,
thicken the gravy with flour and butter, give it a boil up, season it
with pepper and salt, and put in the cucumbers; as soon as they are
warm, they are ready.

The above, rubbed through a tamis, or fine sieve, will be entitled to be
called “cucumber sauce.” See No. 399, Cucumber Vinegar. This is a very
favourite sauce with lamb or mutton-cutlets, stewed rump-steaks, &c.
&c.: when made for the latter, a third part of sliced onion is sometimes
fried with the cucumber.[166-*]

_Artichokes._--(No. 136.)

Soak them in cold water, wash them well, then put them into plenty of
boiling water, with a handful of salt, and let them boil gently till
they are tender, which will take an hour and a half, or two hours: the
surest way to know when they are done enough, is to draw out a leaf;
trim them and drain them on a sieve; and send up melted butter with
them, which some put into small cups, so that each guest may have one.

_Stewed Onions._--(No. 137.)

The large Portugal onions are the best: take off the top-coats of half a
dozen of these (taking care not to cut off the tops or tails too near,
or the onions will go to pieces), and put them into a stew-pan broad
enough to hold them without laying them atop of one another, and just
cover them with good broth.

Put them over a slow fire, and let them simmer about two hours; when you
dish them, turn them upside down, and pour the sauce over.

Young onions stewed, see No. 296.

_Salads._--(No. 138*, _also_ No. 372).

Those who desire to see this subject elaborately illustrated, we refer
to “EVELYN’S _Acetaria_,” a discourse of Sallets, a 12mo. of 240 pages.
London, 1699.

Mr. E. gives us “an account of seventy-two herbs proper and fit to make
sallet with;” and a table of thirty-five, telling their seasons and
proportions. “In the composure of a sallet, every plant should come in
to bear its part, like the notes in music: thus the comical Master Cook
introduced by Damoxenus, when asked, ‘what harmony there was in meats?’
‘the very same,’ says he, ‘as the 3d, 5th, and 8th have to one another
in music: the main skill lies in this, not to mingle’ (‘_sapores minimè
consentientes_’). ‘Tastes not well joined, inelegant,’ as our Paradisian
bard directs Eve, when dressing a sallet for her angelical guest, in
MILTON’S _Paradise Lost_.”

He gives the following receipt for the oxoleon:--

“Take of clear and perfectly good oyl-olive three parts; of sharpest
vinegar (sweetest of all condiments, for it incites appetite, and causes
hunger, which is the best sauce), limon, or juice of orange, one part;
and therein let steep some slices of horseradish, with a little salt.
Some, in a separate vinegar, gently bruise a pod of Ginny pepper, and
strain it to the other; then add as much mustard as will lie upon a
half-crown piece. Beat and mingle these well together with the yelk of
two new-laid eggs boiled hard, and pour it over your sallet, stirring it
well together. The super-curious insist that the knife with which sallet
herb is cut must be of silver. Some who are husbands of their oyl, pour
at first the oyl alone, as more apt to communicate and diffuse its
slipperiness, than when it is mingled and beaten with the acids, which
they pour on last of all; and it is incredible how small a quantity of
oyl thus applied is sufficient to imbue a very plentiful assembly of
sallet herbs.”

_Obs._ Our own directions to prepare and dress salads will be found
under No. 372.

FOOTNOTES:

[155-*] “Next to bread, there is no vegetable article, the preparation
of which, as food, deserves to be more attended to, than the
potato.”--Sir JOHN SINCLAIR’S _Code of Health_, vol. i. p. 354.

“By the _analysis of potato_, it appears that 16 ounces contained 11-1/2
ounces of water, and the 4-1/2 ounces of solid parts remaining, afforded
scarce a drachm of earth.”--PARMENTIER’S _Obs. on Nutritive Vegetables_,
8vo. 1783, p. 112.

[155-+] Or the small ones will be done to pieces before the large ones
are boiled enough.

[159-*] Sweet potatoes, otherwise called Carolina potatoes, are the
roots of the _Convolvulus batatas_, a plant peculiar to and principally
cultivated in America. It delights in a warm climate, but is raised in
Connecticut, New-York, and all the states of the Union south of
New-York. It is an excellent vegetable for the dinner-table, and is
brought on boiled. It has an advantage over common potatoes, as it may
be eaten cold; and it is sometimes cut into thin slices and brought to
the tea-table, as a delicate relish, owing to its agreeable nutritious
sweetness. A.

[163-*] After parsnips are boiled, they should be put into the
frying-pan and browned a little. Some people do not admire this
vegetable, on account of its sickish sweetness. It is, however, a
wholesome, cheap, and nourishing vegetable, best calculated for the
table in winter and spring. Its sweetness may be modified by mashing
with a few potatoes. A.

[164-*] These, and all other fruits and vegetables, &c., by Mr. APPERT’S
plan, it is said, may be preserved for twelve months. See APPERT’S
_Book_, 12mo. 1812. We have eaten of several specimens of preserved
pease, which looked pretty enough,--but _flavour_ they had none at all.

[166-*] Cucumbers may be cut into quarters and boiled like asparagus,
and served up with toasted bread and melted butter. This is a most
delicate way of preparing cucumbers for the dinner-table, and they are a
most luscious article, and so rich and savoury that a small quantity
will suffice.

The ordinary method of cutting cucumbers into slices with raw onions,
served up in vinegar, and seasoned with salt and pepper, is most vulgar
and most unwholesome. In their season they are cheap and plenty; and as
they are crude and unripe they require the stomach of an ostrich to
digest them. They cause much sickness in their season, creating
choleras, cramps, and dysenteries. If stewed or boiled as above
directed, they would be more nutritious and wholesome. A.

_FISH._

See _Obs._ on Codfish after No. 149.

_Turbot to boil._--(No. 140).

This excellent fish is in season the greatest part of the summer; when
good, it is at once firm and tender, and abounds with rich gelatinous
nutriment.

Being drawn, and washed clean, if it be quite fresh, by rubbing it
lightly with salt, and keeping it in a cold place, you may in moderate
weather preserve it for a couple of days.[168-*]

An hour or two before you dress it, soak it in spring-water with some
salt in it, then score the skin across the thickest part of the back, to
prevent its breaking on the breast, which will happen from the fish
swelling, and cracking the skin, if this precaution be not used. Put a
large handful of salt into a fish-kettle with cold water, lay your fish
on a fish-strainer, put it in, and when it is coming to a boil, skim it
well; then set the kettle on the side of the fire, to boil as gently as
possible for about fifteen or twenty minutes (if it boils fast, the fish
will break to pieces); supposing it a middling-sized turbot, and to
weigh eight or nine pounds.

Rub a little of the inside red coral spawn of the lobster through a hair
sieve, without butter; and when the turbot is dished, sprinkle the spawn
over it. Garnish the dish with sprigs of curled parsley, sliced lemon,
and finely-scraped horseradish.

If you like to send it to table in full dress, surround it with
nicely-fried smelts (No. 173), gudgeons are often used for this purpose,
and may be bought very cheap when smelts are very dear; lay the largest
opposite the broadest part of the turbot, so that they may form a
well-proportioned fringe for it; or oysters (No. 183*); or cut a sole in
strips, crossways, about the size of a smelt; fry them as directed in
No. 145, and lay them round. Send up lobster sauce (No. 284); two boats
of it, if it is for a large party.

N.B. Cold turbot, with No. 372 for sauce; or take off the fillets that
are left as soon as the turbot returns from table, and they will make a
side dish for your next dinner, warmed in No. 364--2.

_Obs._ The thickest part is the favourite; and the carver of this fish
must remember to ask his friends if they are fin-fanciers. It will save
a troublesome job to the carver, if the cook, when the fish is boiled,
cuts the spine-bone across the middle.

_A Brill_,--(No. 143.)

Is dressed the same way as a turbot.

_Soles to boil._--(No. 144.)

A fine, fresh, thick sole is almost as good eating as a turbot.

Wash and clean it nicely; put it into a fish-kettle with a handful of
salt, and as much cold water as will cover it; set it on the side of the
fire, take off the scum as it rises, and let it boil gently; about five
minutes (according to its size) will be long enough, unless it be very
large. Send it up on a fish-drainer, garnished with slices of lemon and
sprigs of curled parsley, or nicely-fried smelts (No. 173), or oysters
(No. 183).

_Obs._ Slices of lemon are a universally acceptable garnish with either
fried or broiled fish: a few sprigs of crisp parsley may be added, if
you wish to make it look very smart; and parsley, or fennel and butter,
are excellent sauces (see Nos. 261 and 265), or chervil sauce (No. 264),
anchovy (No. 270).

N.B. Boiled soles are very good warmed up like eels, Wiggy’s way (No.
164), or covered with white sauce (No. 364--2; and see No. 158).

_Soles, or other Fish, to fry._--(No. 145.)

Soles are generally to be procured good from some part of the coast, as
some are going out of season, and some coming in, both at the same time;
a great many are brought in well-boats alive, that are caught off Dover
and Folkstone, and some are brought from the same places by
land-carriage. The finest soles are caught off Plymouth, near the
Eddystone, and all the way up the channel, and to Torbay; and frequently
weigh eight or ten pounds per pair: they are generally brought by water
to Portsmouth, and thence by land; but the greatest quantity are caught
off Yarmouth and the Knole, and off the Forelands.

Be sure they are quite fresh, or the cleverest cook cannot make them
either look or eat well.

An hour before you intend to dress them, wash them thoroughly, and wrap
them in a clean cloth, to make them perfectly dry, or the bread-crumbs
will not stick to them.

Prepare some bread-crumbs,[170-*] by rubbing some stale bread through a
colander; or, if you wish the fish to appear very delicate and
highly-finished, through a hair-sieve; or use biscuit powder.

Beat the yelk and white of an egg well together, on a plate, with a
fork; flour your fish, to absorb any moisture that may remain, and wipe
it off with a clean cloth; dip them in the egg on both sides all over,
or, what is better, egg them with a paste-brush; put the egg on in an
even degree over the whole fish, or the bread-crumbs will not stick to
it even, and the uneven part will burn to the pan. Strew the
bread-crumbs all over the fish, so that they cover every part, take up
the fish by the head, and shake off the loose crumbs. The fish is now
ready for the frying-pan.

Put a quart or more of fresh sweet olive-oil, or clarified butter (No.
259), dripping (No. 83), lard,[170-+] or clarified drippings (No. 83);
be sure they are quite sweet and perfectly clean (the fat ought to cover
the fish): what we here order is for soles about ten inches long; if
larger, cut them into pieces the proper size to help at table; this will
save much time and trouble to the carver: when you send them to table,
lay them in the same form they were before they were cut, and you may
strew a little curled parsley over them: they are much easier managed in
the frying-pan, and require less fat: fry the thick part a few minutes
before you put in the thin, you can by this means only fry the thick
part enough, without frying the thin too much. Very large soles should
be boiled (No. 144), or fried in fillets (No. 147). Soles cut in pieces,
crossways, about the size of a smelt, make a very pretty garnish for
stewed fish and boiled fish.

Set the frying-pan over a sharp and clear fire; watch it, skim it with
an egg-slice, and when it boils,[170-++] _i. e._ when it has done
bubbling, and the smoke just begins to rise from the surface, put in the
fish: if the fat is not extremely hot, it is impossible to fry fish of a
good colour, or to keep them firm and crisp. (Read the 3d chapter of
the Rudiments of Cookery.)

The best way to ascertain the heat of the fat, is to try it with a bit
of bread as big as a nut; if it is quite hot enough, the bread will
brown immediately. Put in the fish, and it will be crisp and brown on
the side next the fire, in about four or five minutes; to turn it, stick
a two-pronged fork near the head, and support the tail with a
fish-slice, and fry the other side nearly the same length of time.

Fry one sole at a time, except the pan is very large, and you have
plenty of fat.

When the fish are fried, lay them on a soft cloth (old tablecloths are
best), near enough the fire to keep them warm; turn them every two or
three minutes, till they are quite dry on both sides; this common cooks
commonly neglect. It will take ten or fifteen minutes,[171-*] if the fat
you fried them in was not hot enough; when it is, they want very little
drying. When soles are fried, they will keep very good in a dry place
for three or four days; warm them by hanging them on the hooks in a
Dutch oven, letting them heat very gradually, by putting it some
distance from the fire for about twenty minutes, or in good gravy, as
eels, Wiggy’s way (Nos. 164, 299, 337, or 356).

_Obs._ There are several general rules in this receipt which apply to
all fried fish: we have been very particular and minute in our
directions; for, although a fried sole is so frequent and favourite a
dish, it is very seldom brought to table in perfection.[171-+]

_Soles to stew._--(No. 146.)

These are half fried, and then done the same as eels, Wiggy’s way. See
No. 164.

_Fillets of Soles, brown or white._--(No. 147.)

Take off the fillets very nicely, trim them neatly, and press them dry
between a soft cloth; egg, crumb, and fry them, &c. as directed in No.
145, or boil them, and serve them with No. 364--2.

N.B. This is one of the best ways of dressing very large soles. See also
No. 164.

_Skate_,[172-*]--(No. 148.)

Is very good when in good season, but no fish so bad when it is
otherwise: those persons that like it firm and dry, should have it
crimped; but those that like it tender, should have it plain, and eat it
not earlier than the second day, and if cold weather, three or four days
old it is better: it cannot be kept too long, if perfectly sweet. Young
skate eats very fine crimped and fried. See No. 154.

_Cod boiled._--(No. 149.)

Wash and clean the fish, and rub a little salt in the inside of it (if
the weather is very cold, a large cod is the better for being kept a
day): put plenty of water in your fish-kettle, so that the fish may be
well covered; put in a large handful of salt; and when it is dissolved,
put in your fish; a very small fish will require from fifteen to twenty
minutes after the water boils, a large one about half an hour; drain it
on the fish-plate; dish it with a garnish of the roe, liver,
chitterlings, &c. or large native oysters, fried a light brown (see No.
183*), or smelts (No. 173), whitings (No. 153), the tail[172-+] of the
cod cut in slices, or bits the size and shape of oysters, or split it,
and fry it. Scolloped oysters (No. 182), oyster sauce (No. 278), slices
of cod cut about half an inch thick, and fried as soles (No. 145), are
very nice.

MEM.--The SOUNDS (the jelly parts about the jowl), the palate, and the
tongue are esteemed exquisites by piscivorous epicures, whose longing
eyes will keep a sharp look-out for a share of their favourite “_bonne
bouche_:” the carver’s reputation depends much on his equitable
distribution of them.[173-*]

_Salt Fish boiled._--(No. 150.)

Salt fish requires soaking, according to the time it has been in salt;
trust not to those you buy it of, but taste a bit of one of the flakes;
that which is hard and dry requires two nights’ soaking, changing the
water two or three times; the intermediate day, lay it on a stone floor:
for barrelled cod less time will do; and for the best Dogger-bank split
fish, which has not been more than a fortnight or three weeks in salt,
still less will be needful.

Put it into plenty of cold water, and let it simmer very gently till it
is enough; if the water boils, the fish will be tough and
thready.[173-+] For egg sauce, see No. 267; and to boil red beet-root,
No. 127; parsnips, No. 128; Carrots, No. 129. Garnish salt fish with the
yelks of eggs cut into quarters.

_Obs._--Our favourite vegetable accompaniment is a dish of equal parts
of red beet-root and parsnips.

N.B. Salted fish differs in quality quite as much as it does in price.

_Slices of Cod boiled._--(No. 151.)

Half an hour before you dress them, put them into cold spring-water with
some salt in it.

Lay them at the bottom of a fish-kettle, with as much cold spring-water
as will cover them, and some salt; set it on a quick fire, and when it
boils, skim it, and set it on one side of the fire to boil very gently,
for about ten minutes, according to its size and thickness. Garnish with
scraped horseradish, slices of lemon, and a slice of the liver on one
side, and chitterling on the other. Oyster sauce (No. 278), and plain
butter.

_Obs._--Slices of cod (especially the tail, split) are very good, fried
like soles (No. 145), or stewed in gravy like eels (No. 164, or No.
364--2).[174-*]

_Fresh Sturgeon._--(No. 152.)

The best mode of dressing this, is to have it cut in thin slices like
veal cutlets, and broiled, and rubbed over with a bit of butter and a
little pepper, and served very hot, and eaten with a squeeze of
lemon-juice. Great care, however, must be taken to cut off the skin
before it is broiled, as the oil in the skin, if burned, imparts a
disgusting flavour to the fish. The flesh is very fine, and comes nearer
to veal, perhaps, than even turtle.

Sturgeon is frequently plentiful and reasonable in the London shops. We
prefer this mode of dressing it to the more savoury one of stewing it in
rich gravy, like carp, &c. which overpowers the peculiar flavour of the
fish.[174-+]

_Whitings fried._--(No. 153.)

Skin[174-++] them, preserve the liver (see No. 228), and fasten their
tails to their mouths; dip them in egg, then in bread-crumbs, and fry
them in hot lard (read No. 145), or split them, and fry them like
fillets of soles (No. 147).

A three-quart stew-pan, half full of fat, is the best utensil to fry
whitings. They will be done enough in about five minutes; but it will
sometimes require a quarter of an hour to drain the fat from them and
dry them (if the fat you put them into was not hot enough), turning them
now and then with a fish-slice.

_Obs._--When whitings are scarce, the fishmongers can skin and truss
young codlings, so that you can hardly tell the difference, except that
a codling wears a beard, and a whiting does not: this distinguishing
mark is sometimes cut off; however, if you turn up his jowl, you may see
the mark where the beard was, and thus discover whether he be a real
whiting, or a shaved codling.

_Skate fried._--(No. 154.)

After you have cleaned the fish, divide it into fillets; dry them on a
clean cloth; beat the yelk and white of an egg thoroughly together, dip
the fish in this, and then in fine bread-crumbs; fry it in hot lard or
drippings till it is of a delicate brown colour; lay it on a hair-sieve
to drain; garnish with crisp parsley (No. 318), and some like caper
sauce, with an anchovy in it.

_Plaice or Flounders, fried or boiled._--(No. 155.)

Flounders are perhaps the most difficult fish to fry very nicely. Clean
them well, flour them, and wipe them with a dry cloth to absorb all the
water from them; flour or egg and bread-crumb them, &c. as directed in
No. 145.

_To boil Flounders._

Wash and clean them well, cut the black side of them the same as you do
turbot, then put them into a fish-kettle, with plenty of cold water and
a handful of salt; when they come to a boil, skim them clean, and let
them stand by the side of the fire for five minutes, and they are ready.

_Obs._--Eaten with plain melted butter and a little salt, you have the
sweet delicate flavour of the flounder, which is overpowered by any
sauce.

_Water Souchy_,[175-*]--(No. 156.)

Is made with flounders, whitings, gudgeons, or eels. These must be
quite fresh, and very nicely cleaned; for what they are boiled in, is
the sauce for them.

Wash, gut, and trim your fish, cut them into handsome pieces, and put
them into a stew-pan with just as much water as will cover them, with
some parsley, or parsley-roots sliced, an onion minced fine, and a
little pepper and salt (to this some cooks add some scraped horseradish
and a bay leaf); skim it carefully when it boils; when your fish is done
enough (which it will be in a few minutes), send it up in a deep dish,
lined with bread sippets, and some slices of bread and butter on a
plate.

_Obs._--Some cooks thicken the liquor the fish has been stewing in with
flour and butter, and flavour it with white wine, lemon-juice, essence
of anchovy, and catchup; and boil down two or three flounders, &c. to
make a fish broth to boil the other fish in, observing, that the broth
cannot be good unless the fish are boiled too much.

_Haddock boiled._--(No. 157.)

Wash it well, and put it on to boil, as directed in No. 149; a haddock
of three pounds will take about ten minutes after the kettle boils.

Haddocks, salted a day or two, are eaten with egg sauce, or cut in
fillets, and fried. Or, if small, very well broiled, or baked, with a
pudding in their belly, and some good gravy.

_Obs._ A piscivorous epicure protests that “Haddock is the poorest fish
that swims, and has neither the delicacy of the whiting, nor the
juicyness of the cod.”[176-*]

_Findhorn Haddocks._--(No. 157*.)

Let the fish be well cleaned, and laid in salt for two hours; let the
water drain from them, and then wet them with the pyroligneous acid;
they may be split or not: they are then to be hung in a dry situation
for a day or two, or a week or two, if you please; when broiled, they
have all the flavour of the Findhorn haddock, and will keep sweet for a
long time.

The pyroligneous acid, applied in the same way to beef or mutton, gives
the fine smoke flavour, and may be kept for a considerable length of
time.

_Scotch way of dressing haddocks._--A haddock is quite like a different
fish in London and in Edinburgh, which arises chiefly from the manner
in which they are treated: a haddock should never appear at table with
its head and skin on. For boiling, they are all the better for lying a
night in salt; of course they do not take so long to boil without the
skin, and require to be well skimmed to preserve the colour. After lying
in salt for a night, if you hang them up for a day or two, they are very
good broiled and served with cold butter. For frying, they should be
split and boned very carefully, and divided into convenient pieces, if
too large to halve merely; egg and crumb them, and fry in a good deal of
lard; they resemble soles when dressed in this manner. There is another
very delicate mode of dressing them; you split the fish, rub it well
with butter, and do it before the fire in a Dutch oven.

_To stew Cod’s Skull, Sole, Carp, Trout, Perch, Eel, or Flounder._--No.
158. (See also No. 164.)

When the fish has been properly washed, lay it in a stew-pan, with half
a pint of claret or port wine, and a quart of good gravy (No. 329); a
large onion, a dozen berries of black pepper, the same of allspice, and
a few cloves, or a bit of mace: cover the fish-kettle close, and let it
stew gently for ten or twenty minutes, according to the thickness of the
fish: take the fish up, lay it on a hot dish, cover it up, and thicken
the liquor it was stewed in with a little flour, and season it with
pepper, salt, essence of anchovy, mushroom catchup, and a little Chili
vinegar; when it has boiled ten minutes, strain it through a tamis, and
pour it over the fish: if there is more sauce than the dish will hold,
send the rest up in a boat.

The river trout comes into season in April, and continues till July; it
is a delicious fish; those caught near Uxbridge come to town quite
alive.

The eels and perch from the same water are very fine.

_Obs._--These fish are very nice plain boiled, with No. 261, or No. 264,
for sauce; some cooks dredge them with flour, and fry them a light brown
before they put them on to stew, and stuff them with No. 374, or some of
the stuffings following.

_To dress them maigre._

Put the fish into a stew-pan, with a large onion, four cloves, fifteen
berries of allspice, and the same of black pepper; just cover them with
boiling water, set it where they will simmer gently for ten or twenty
minutes, according to the size of the fish; strain off the liquor in
another stew-pan, leaving the fish to keep warm till the sauce is ready.

Rub together on a plate as much flour and butter as will make the sauce
as thick as a double cream. Each pint of sauce season with a glass of
wine, half as much mushroom catchup, a tea-spoonful of essence of
anchovy, and a few grains of Cayenne; let it boil a few minutes, put the
fish on a deep dish, strain the gravy over it; garnish it with sippets
of bread toasted or fried (No. 319).

N.B. The editor has paid particular attention to the above receipt, and
also to No. 224, which Catholics, and those whose religious tenets do
not allow them to eat meat on maigre days, will find a very satisfactory
substitute for the meat gravy soup (No. 200).

For sauce for maigre dishes, see Nos. 225, 305, and 364--2.

_Obs._ Mushroom catchup (No. 439) and onions (No. 402) supply the place
of meat better than any thing; if you have not these, wine, spice (No.
457), curry powder (No. 455), aromatic roots and herbs, anchovy and soy,
or oyster catchup (No. 441), variously combined, and thickened with
flour and butter, are convenient substitutes.

_Maigre Fish Pies._

Salt-fish pie. The thickest part must be chosen, and put in cold water
to soak the night before wanted; then boil it well, take it up, take
away the bones and skin, and if it is good fish it will be in fine
layers; set it on a fish-drainer to get cold: in the mean time, boil
four eggs hard, peel and slice them very thin, the same quantity of
onion sliced thin; line the bottom of a pie-dish with fish forcemeat
(No. 383), or a layer of potatoes sliced thin, then a layer of onions,
then of fish, and of eggs, and so on till the dish is full; season each
layer with a little pepper, then mix a tea-spoonful of made mustard, the
same of essence of anchovy, a little mushroom catchup, in a gill of
water, put it in the dish, then put on the top an ounce of fresh butter
broke in bits; cover it with puff paste, and bake it one hour.

Fresh cod may be done in the same way, by adding a little salt.

All fish for making pies, whether soles, flounders, herrings, salmon,
lobster, eels, trout, tench, &c. should be dressed first; this is the
most economical way for Catholic families, as what is boiled one day
will make excellent pies or patties the next.

If you intend it for pies, take the skin off, and the bones out; lay
your salmon, soles, turbot, or codfish, in layers, and season each layer
with equal quantities of pepper, allspice, mace, and salt, till the dish
is full. Save a little of the liquor that the fish was boiled in; set it
on the fire with the bones and skin of the fish, boil it a quarter of an
hour, then strain it through a sieve, let it settle, and pour it in the
dish; cover it with puff-paste; bake it about an hour and a quarter.
Shrimps, prawns, or oysters added, will improve the above; if for
patties, they must be cut in small pieces, and dressed in a bechamel
sauce (No. 364).

Cod-sounds for a pie should be soaked at least twenty-four hours, then
well washed, and put on a cloth to dry. Put in a stew-pan two ounces of
fresh butter, with four ounces of sliced onions; fry them of a nice
brown, then put in a small table-spoonful of flour, and add half a pint
of boiling water; when smooth, put in about ten cod-sounds, and season
them with a little pepper, a glass of white wine, a tea-spoonful of
essence of anchovy, the juice of half a lemon; stir it well together,
put it in a pie-dish, cover it with paste, and bake it one hour.

_Perch, Roach, Dace, Gudgeons, &c. fried._--(No. 159.)

Wash the fish well, wipe them on a dry cloth, flour them lightly all
over, and fry them ten minutes (No. 145) in hot lard or drippings; lay
them on a hair-sieve to drain; send them up on a hot dish, garnished
with sprigs of green parsley. Anchovy sauce, Nos. 270 and 433.

_Perch boiled._[179-*]--(No. 160.)

Clean them carefully, and put them in a fish-kettle, with as much cold
spring-water as will cover them, with a handful of salt; set them on a
quick fire till they boil; when they boil, set them on one side to boil
gently for about ten minutes, according to their size.

_Salmon, Herrings, Sprats, Mackerel, &c. pickled._--(No. 161.)

Cut the fish into proper pieces; do not take off the scales; make a
brine strong enough to bear an egg, in which boil the fish; it must be
boiled in only just liquor enough to cover it; do not overboil it. When
the fish is boiled, lay it slantingly to drain off all the liquor; when
cold, pack it close in the kits, and fill them up with equal parts of
the liquor the salmon was boiled in (having first well skimmed it), and
best vinegar (No. 24); let them rest for a day; fill up again, striking
the sides of the kit with a cooper’s adze, until the kit will receive no
more; then head them down as close as possible.

_Obs._ This is in the finest condition when fresh. Salmon is most
plentiful about midsummer; the season for it is from February to
September. Some sprigs of fresh-gathered young fennel are the
accompaniments.

N.B. The three indispensable marks of the goodness of pickled salmon
are, 1st, The brightness of the scales, and their sticking fast to the
skin; 2dly, The firmness of the flesh; and, 3dly, Its fine, pale-red
rose colour. Without these it is not fit to eat, and was either stale
before it was pickled, or has been kept too long after.

The above was given us as the actual practice of those who pickle it for
the London market.

N.B. Pickled salmon warmed by steam, or in its pickle liquor, is a
favourite dish at Newcastle.

_Salmon[180-*] boiled._--(No. 162.)

Put on a fish-kettle, with spring-water enough to well cover the salmon
you are going to dress, or the salmon will neither look nor taste well:
(boil the liver in a separate saucepan.) When the water boils, put in a
handful of salt: take off the scum as soon as it rises; have the fish
well washed; put it in, and if it is thick, let it boil very gently.
Salmon requires almost as much boiling as meat; about a quarter of an
hour to a pound of fish: but practice only can perfect the cook in
dressing salmon. A quarter of a salmon will take almost as long boiling
as half a one: you must consider the thickness, not the weight: ten
pounds of fine full-grown salmon will be done in an hour and a quarter.
Lobster Sauce, No. 284.

_Obs._ The thinnest part of the fish is the fattest; and if you have a
“grand gourmand” at table, ask him if he is for thick or thin.

The Thames salmon is preferred in the London market; and some epicures
pretend to be able to distinguish by the taste, in which reach of the
river it was caught!!!

N.B. If you have any left, put it into a pie-dish, and cover it with an
equal portion of vinegar and pump-water, and a little salt: it will be
ready in three days.

_Fresh Salmon broiled._--(No. 163.)

Clean the salmon well, and cut it into slices about an inch and a half
thick; dry it thoroughly in a clean cloth; rub it over with sweet oil,
or thick melted butter, and sprinkle a little salt over it: put your
gridiron over a clear fire, at some distance; when it is hot wipe it
clean; rub it with sweet oil or lard; lay the salmon on, and when it is
done on one side, turn it gently and broil the other. Anchovy sauce, &c.

_Obs._ An oven does them best.

_Soles or Eels,[181-*] &c. &c. stewed_ Wiggy’s _way._--(No. 164.)

Take two pounds of fine silver[181-+] eels: the best are those that are
rather more than a half-crown piece in circumference, quite fresh, full
of life, and “as brisk as an eel:” such as have been kept out of water
till they can scarce stir, are good for nothing: gut them, rub them with
salt till the slime is cleaned from them, wash them in several different
waters, and divide them into pieces about four inches long.

Some cooks, after skinning them, dredge them with a little flour, wipe
them dry, and then egg and crumb them, and fry them in drippings till
they are brown, and lay them to dry on a hair sieve.

Have ready a quart of good beef gravy (No. 329); it must be cold when
you put the eels into it: set them on a slow fire to simmer very gently
for about a quarter of an hour, according to the size of the eels; watch
them, that they are not done too much; take them carefully out of the
stew-pan with a fish-slice, so as not to tear their coats, and lay them
on a dish about two inches deep.

Or, if for maigre days, when you have skinned your eels, throw the skins
into salt and water; wash them well; then put them into a stew-pan with
a quart of water, two onions, with two cloves stuck in each, and one
blade of mace; let it boil twenty minutes, and strain it through a sieve
into a basin.

Make the sauce about as thick as cream, by mixing a little flour with
it; put in also two table-spoonfuls of port wine, and one of mushroom
catchup, or cavice: stir it into the sauce by degrees, give it a boil,
and strain it to the fish through a sieve.

N.B. If mushroom sauce (Nos. 225, 305, or 333), or white sauce (No.
364--2), be used instead of beef gravy, this will be one of the most
relishing maigre dishes we know.

_Obs._ To kill eels instantly, without the horrid torture of cutting and
skinning them alive, pierce the spinal marrow, close to the back part of
the skull, with a sharp-pointed skewer: if this be done in the right
place, all motion will instantly cease. The humane executioner does
certain criminals the favour to hang them before he breaks them on the
wheel.

_To fry Eels._--(No. 165.)

Skin and gut them, and wash them well in cold water, cut them in pieces
four inches long, season them with pepper and salt; beat an egg well on
a plate, dip them in the egg, and then in fine bread-crumbs; fry them in
fresh, clean lard; drain them well from the fat; garnish with crisp
parsley. For sauce, plain and melted butter, sharpened with lemon-juice,
or parsley and butter.

_Spitchocked Eels._--(No. 166.)

This the French cooks call the English way of dressing eels.

Take two middling-sized silver eels, leave the skin on, scour them with
salt, and wash them, cut off the heads, slit them on the belly side,
and take out the bones and guts, and wash and wipe them nicely; then cut
them into pieces about three inches long, and wipe them quite dry; put
two ounces of butter into a stew-pan with a little minced parsley,
thyme, sage, pepper, and salt, and a very little chopped eschalot; set
the stew-pan over the fire; when the butter is melted, stir the
ingredients together, and take it off the fire, mix the yelks of two
eggs with them, and dip the eel in, a piece at a time, and then roll
them in bread-crumbs, making as much stick to them as you can; then rub
the gridiron with a bit of suet, set it high over a very clear fire, and
broil your eels of a fine crisp brown. Dish them with crisp parsley, and
send up with plain butter in a boat, and anchovy and butter.

_Obs._ We like them better with the skin off; it is very apt to offend
delicate stomachs.

_Mackerel boiled._[183-*]--(No. 167.)

This fish loses its life as soon as it leaves the sea, and the fresher
it is the better.

Wash and clean them thoroughly (the fishmongers seldom do this
sufficiently), put them into cold water with a handful of salt in it;
let them rather simmer than boil; a small mackerel will be done enough
in about a quarter of an hour; when the eye starts and the tail splits,
they are done; do not let them stand in the water a moment after; they
are so delicate that the heat of the water will break them.

This fish, in London, is rarely fresh enough to appear at table in
perfection; and either the mackerel is boiled too much, or the
roe[183-+] too little. The best way is to open a slit opposite the
middle of the roe, you can then clean it properly; this will allow the
water access, and the roe will then be done as soon as the fish, which
it seldom is otherwise; some sagacious gourmands insist upon it they
must be taken out and boiled separately. For sauce, see Nos. 263, 265,
and 266; and you may garnish them with pats of minced fennel.

N.B. The common notion is, that mackerel are in best condition when
fullest of roe; however, the fish at that time is only valuable for its
roe, the meat of it has scarcely any flavour.

Mackerel generally make their appearance off the Land’s End about the
beginning of April; and as the weather gets warm they gradually come
round the coast, and generally arrive off Brighton about May, and
continue for some months, until they begin to shoot their spawn.

After they have let go their roes, they are called shotten mackerel, and
are not worth catching; the roe, which was all that was good of them,
being gone.

It is in the early season, when they have least roe, that the flesh of
this fish is in highest perfection. There is also an after-season, when
a few fine large mackerel are taken, (_i. e._ during the herring season,
about October,) which some piscivorous epicures are very partial to;
these fish having had time to fatten and recover their health, are full
of high flavour, and their flesh is firm and juicy: they are commonly
called silver mackerel, from their beautiful appearance, their colour
being almost as bright when boiled as it was the moment they were
caught.

_Mackerel broiled._--(No. 169.)

Clean a fine large mackerel, wipe it on a dry cloth, and cut a long slit
down the back; lay it on a clean gridiron, over a very clear, slow fire;
when it is done on one side, turn it; be careful that it does not burn;
send it up with fennel sauce (No. 265); mix well together a little
finely minced fennel and parsley, seasoned with a little pepper and
salt, a bit of fresh butter, and when the mackerel are ready for the
table, put some of this into each fish.

_Mackerel baked._[184-*]--(No. 170.)

Cut off their heads, open them, and take out the roes and clean them
thoroughly; rub them on the inside with a little pepper and salt, put
the roes in again, season them (with a mixture of powdered allspice,
black pepper, and salt, well rubbed together), and lay them close in a
baking-pan, cover them with equal quantities of cold vinegar and water,
tie them down with strong white paper doubled, and bake them for an
hour in a slow oven. They will keep for a fortnight.

_Pickled Mackerel, Herrings, or Sprats._--(No. 171.)

Procure them as fresh as possible, split them, take off the heads, and
trim off the thin part of the belly, put them into salt and water for
one hour, drain and wipe your fish, and put them into jars or casks,
with the following preparation, which is enough for three dozen
mackerel. Take salt and bay-salt, one pound each, saltpetre and
lump-sugar, two ounces each; grind and pound the salt, &c. well
together, put the fish into jars or casks, with a layer of the
preparation at the bottom, then a layer of mackerel with the skin-side
downwards, so continue alternately till the cask or jar is full; press
it down and cover it close. In about three months they will be fit for
use.

_Sprats broiled._--(No. 170*--_Fried_, see No. 173.)

If you have not a sprat gridiron, get a piece of pointed iron wire as
thick as packthread, and as long as your gridiron is broad; run this
through the heads of your sprats, sprinkle a little flour and salt over
them, put your gridiron over a clear, quick fire, turn them in about a
couple of minutes; when the other side is brown, draw out the wire, and
send up the fish with melted butter in a cup.

_Obs._ That sprats are young herrings, is evident by their anatomy, in
which there is no perceptible difference. They appear very soon after
the herrings are gone, and seem to be the spawn just vivified.

_Sprats stewed._--(No. 170**.)

Wash and dry your sprats, and lay them as level as you can in a
stew-pan, and between every layer of sprats put three peppercorns, and
as many allspice, with a few grains of salt; barely cover them with
vinegar, and stew them one hour over a slow fire; they must not boil: a
bay-leaf is sometimes added. Herrings or mackerel may be stewed the same
way.

To fry sprats, see No. 173.

_Herrings broiled._--(No. 171*.)

Wash them well, then dry them with a cloth, dust them with flour, and
broil them over a slow fire till they are well done. Send up melted
butter in a boat.

_Obs._ For a particular account of herrings, see SOLAS DODD’S _Natural
Hist. of Herrings_, in 178 pages, 8vo. 1752.

_Red Herrings, and other dried Fish_,--(No. 172.)

“Should be cooked in the same manner as now practised by the poor in
Scotland. They soak them in water until they become pretty fresh; they
are then hung up in the sun and wind, on a stick through their eyes, to
dry; and then boiled or broiled. In this way they eat almost as well as
if they were new caught.” See the Hon. JOHN COCHRANE’S _Seaman’s Guide_,
8vo. 1797, p. 34.

“Scotch haddocks should be soaked all night. You may boil or broil them;
if you broil, split them in two.

“All the different sorts of dried fish, except stock fish, are salted,
dried in the sun in prepared kilns, or by the smoke of wood fires, and
require to be softened and freshened, in proportion to their bulk,
nature, or dryness; the very dry sort, as cod, whiting, &c. should be
steeped in lukewarm water, kept as near as possible to an equal degree
of heat. The larger fish should be steeped twelve hours, the smaller
about two; after which they should be taken out and hung up by the tails
until they are dressed. The reason for hanging them up is, that they
soften equally as in the steeping, without extracting too much of the
relish, which would render them insipid. When thus prepared, the small
fish, as whiting, tusks, &c. should be floured and laid on the gridiron;
and when a little hardened on one side, must be turned and basted with
sweet oil upon a feather; and when basted on both sides, and well heated
through, taken up. A clear charcoal fire is the best for cooking them,
and the fish should be kept at a good distance, to broil gradually. When
they are done enough they will swell a little in the basting, and you
must not let them fall again. If boiled, as the larger fish generally
are, they should be kept just simmering over an equal fire, in which way
half an hour will do the largest fish, and five minutes the smallest.

“Dried salmon, though a large fish, does not require more steeping than
a whiting; and when laid on the gridiron should be moderately peppered.
To herring and to all kinds of broiled salt fish, sweet oil is the best
basting.”

The above is from MACDONALD’S _London Family Cook_, 8vo. 1808, p. 139.

_Obs._ Dr. Harte, in his Essay on Diet, 1633, fol. p. 91, protests, “a
red herring doth nourish little, and is hard of concoction, but very
good to make a cup of good drink relish well, and may be well called
‘the drunkard’s delight.’”

_Smelts, Gudgeons, Sprats, or other small Fish, fried._--(No. 173.)

Clean and dry them thoroughly in a cloth, fry them plain, or beat an egg
on a plate, dip them in it, and then in very fine bread-crumbs that have
been rubbed through a sieve; the smaller the fish, the finer should be
the bread-crumbs--biscuit powder is still better; fry them in plenty of
clean lard or drippings; as soon as the lard boils and is still, put in
the fish; when they are delicately browned, they are done; this will
hardly take two minutes. Drain them on a hair-sieve, placed before the
fire, turning them till quite dry. _Obs._ Read No. 145.

“Smelts are allowed to be caught in the Thames, on the first of
November, and continue till May. The Thames smelts are the best and
sweetest, for two reasons; they are fresher and richer than any other
you can get: they catch them much more plentiful and larger in
Lancashire and Norfolk, but not so good: a great many are brought to
town from Norfolk, but barely come good, as they are a fish which should
always be eaten fresh; indeed, all river fish should be eaten fresh,
except salmon, which, unless crimped, eats better the second or third
day: but all Thames fish, particularly, should be eaten very fresh; no
fish eats so bad kept.”

_Potted Prawns, Shrimps, or Cray-fish._--(No. 175.)

Boil them in water with plenty of salt in it. When you have picked them,
powder them with a little beaten mace, or grated nutmeg, or allspice,
and pepper and salt; add a little cold butter, and pound all well
together in a marble mortar till of the consistence of paste. Put it
into pots covered with clarified butter, and cover them over with wetted
bladder.

_Lobster._[187-*]--(No. 176.)

Buy these alive; the lobster merchants sometimes keep them till they are
starved, before they boil them; they are then watery, have not half
their flavour, and like other persons that die of a consumption, have
lost the calf of their legs.

Choose those that (as an old cook says, are “heavy and lively,” and) are
full of motion, which is the index of their freshness.

Those of the middle size are the best. Never take them when the shell is
incrusted, which is a sign they are old. The male lobster is preferred
to eat, and the female (on account of the eggs) to make sauce of. The
hen lobster is distinguished by having a broader tail than the male, and
less claws.

Set on a pot, with water salted in the proportion of a table-spoonful of
salt to a quart of water; when the water boils, put it in, and keep it
boiling briskly from half an hour to an hour, according to its size;
wipe all the scum off it, and rub the shell with a very little butter or
sweet oil; break off the great claws, crack them carefully in each
joint, so that they may not be shattered, and yet come to pieces easily;
cut the tail down the middle, and send up the body whole. For sauce, No.
285. To pot lobster, No. 178.

⁂ These fish come in about April, and continue plentiful till the
oyster season returns; after that time they begin to spawn, and seldom
open solid.

_Crab._--(No. 177.)

The above observations apply to crabs, which should neither be too small
nor too large. The best size are those which measure about eight inches
across the shoulders.

⁂ Crabs appear and disappear about the same time as lobsters. The cromer
crabs are most esteemed; but numbers are brought from the Isle of Wight.

_Potted Lobster or Crab._[188-*]--(No. 178).

This must be made with fine hen lobsters, when full of spawn: boil them
thoroughly (No. 176); when cold, pick out all the solid meat, and pound
it in a mortar: it is usual to add, by degrees, (a very little)
finely-pounded mace, black or Cayenne pepper, salt, and, while pounding,
a little butter. When the whole is well mixed, and beat to the
consistence of paste, press it down hard in a preserving-pot, pour
clarified butter over it, and cover it with wetted bladder.

_Obs._--Some put lobster without pounding it, and only cut it or pull it
into such pieces as if it was prepared for sauce, and mince it with the
spawn and soft parts and seasoning, and press it together as close as
possible; in packing it, place the coral and spawn, &c. in layers, so
that it may look regular and handsome when cut out. If you intend it as
store (see N.B. to No. 284, to make sauce with), this is the best way to
do it; but if for sandwiches, &c. the first is the best, and will keep
much longer.

Dressed or buttered lobsters and crabs, are favourite ornamental dishes
with those who deck their table merely to please the eye. Our apology
for not giving such receipts will be found in _Obs._ to No. 322.

_OYSTERS._[189-*]--(No. 181.)

The common[189-+] Colchester and Feversham oysters are brought to market
on the 5th of August; the Milton, or, as they are commonly called, the
melting natives,[189-++] do not come in till the beginning of October,
continue in season till the 12th of May, and approach the meridian of
their perfection about Christmas.

Some piscivorous gourmands think that oysters are not best when quite
fresh from their beds, and that their flavour is too brackish and harsh,
and is much ameliorated by giving them a feed.

To FEED[189-§] oysters.--Cover them with clean water, with a pint of
salt to about two gallons (nothing else, no oatmeal, flour, nor any
other trumpery); this will cleanse them from the mud and sand, &c. of
the bed; after they have lain in it twelve hours, change it for fresh
salt and water, and in twelve hours more they will be in prime order for
the mouth, and remain so two or three days: at the time of high water
you may see them open their shells, in expectation of receiving their
usual food. This process of feeding oysters is only employed when a
great many come up together.

The real Colchester, or Pyfleet barrelled oysters, that are packed at
the beds, are better without being put in water: they are carefully and
tightly packed, and must not be disturbed till wanted for table. These,
in moderate weather, will keep good for a week or ten days.

If an oyster opens his mouth in the barrel, he dies immediately.

To preserve the lives of barrelled oysters, put a heavy weight on the
wooden top of the barrel, which is to be placed on the surface of the
oysters. This is to be effected by removing the first hoop; the staves
will then spread and stand erect, making a wide opening for the head of
the barrel to fall down closely on the remaining fish, keeping them
close together.

MEM.--The oysters which are commonly sold as barrelled oysters, are
merely the smallest natives, selected from the stock, and put into the
tub when ordered; and, instead of being of superior quality, are often
very inferior. To immature animals there is the same objection as to
unripe vegetables.

_Obs._--Common people are indifferent about the manner of opening
oysters, and the time of eating them after they are opened; nothing,
however, is more important in the enlightened eyes of the experienced
oyster-eater.

Those who wish to enjoy this delicious restorative in its utmost
perfection, must eat it the moment it is opened, with its own gravy in
the under shell; if not eaten while absolutely alive, its flavour and
spirit are lost.

The true lover of an oyster will have some regard for the feelings of
his little favourite, and will never abandon it to the mercy of a
bungling operator, but will open it himself, and contrive to detach the
fish from the shell so dexterously, that the oyster is hardly conscious
he has been ejected from his lodging, till he feels the teeth of the
piscivorous gourmand tickling him to death.

N.B. Fish is less nutritious than flesh: as a proof, when the trainer of
Newmarket wishes to waste a jockey, he is not allowed meat, nor even
pudding, if fish can be had. The white kinds of fish, turbots, soles,
whiting, cod, haddock, flounders, smelts, &c. are less nutritious than
the oily, fat fish, such as eels, salmon, herrings, sprats, &c.: the
latter, however, are more difficult to digest, and often disturb weak
stomachs, so that they are obliged to call in the assistance of Cayenne,
Cognac, &c.

Shell-fish have long held a high rank in the catalogue of easily
digestible and speedily restorative foods; of these the oyster certainly
deserves the best character, but we think it has acquired not a little
more reputation for these qualities than it deserves; a well-dressed
chop[191-*] or steak, see No. 94, will invigorate the heart in a much
higher ratio; to recruit the animal spirits, and support strength, there
is nothing equal to animal food; when kept till properly tender, none
will give so little trouble to the digestive organs, and so much
substantial excitement to the constitution. See note under No. 185.

See Dr. WALLIS and Mr. TYSON’S Papers on men’s feeding on flesh, in
_Phil. Trans._ vol. xxii. p. 769 to 774; and PORPHYRY on Abstinence from
Animal Food, translated by Thomas Taylor, 8vo. 1823.

We could easily say as much in praise of mutton as Mr. Ritson has
against it, in his “_Essay on Abstinence from Animal Food, as a Moral
Duty_,” 8vo. London, 1802, p. 102. He says, “The Pagan priests were the
first eaters of animal food; it corrupted their taste, and so excited
them to gluttony, that when they had eaten the same thing repeatedly,
their luxurious appetites called for variety. He who had devoured the
sheep, longed to masticate the shepherd!!!

“Nature seems to have provided other animals for the food of man, from
the astonishing increase of those which instinct points out to him as
peculiarly desirable for that purpose. For instance; so quick is the
produce of pigeons, that, in the space of four years, 14,760 may come
from a single pair; and in the like period, 1,274,840 from a couple of
rabbits, this is nothing to the millions of eggs in the milt of a
codfish.”

_Scolloped Oysters._--(No. 182.) A good way to warm up any cold fish.

Stew the oysters slowly in their own liquor for two or three minutes,
take them out with a spoon, beard them, and skim the liquor, put a bit
of butter into a stew-pan; when it is melted, add as much fine
bread-crumbs as will dry it up, then put to it the oyster liquor, and
give it a boil up, put the oysters into scollop-shells that you have
buttered, and strewed with bread-crumbs, then a layer of oysters, then
of bread-crumbs, and then some more oysters; moisten it with the oyster
liquor, cover them with bread-crumbs, put about half a dozen little
bits of butter on the top of each, and brown them in a Dutch oven.

_Obs._ Essence of anchovy, catchup, Cayenne, grated lemon-peel, mace,
and other spices, &c. are added by those who prefer piquance to the
genuine flavour of the oyster.

Cold fish may be re-dressed the same way.

N.B. Small scollop-shells, or saucers that hold about half a dozen
oysters, are the most convenient.

_Stewed Oysters._--(No. 182*.)

Large oysters will do for stewing, and by some are preferred; but we
love the plump, juicy natives. Stew a couple of dozen of these in their
own liquor; when they are coming to a boil, skim well, take them up and
beard them; strain the liquor through a tamis-sieve, and lay the oysters
on a dish. Put an ounce of butter into a stew-pan; when it is melted,
put to it as much flour as will dry it up, the liquor of the oysters,
and three table-spoonfuls of milk or cream, and a little white pepper
and salt; to this some cooks add a little catchup, or finely-chopped
parsley, grated lemon-peel, and juice; let it boil up for a couple of
minutes, till it is smooth, then take it off the fire, put in the
oysters, and let them get warm (they must not themselves be boiled, or
they will become hard); line the bottom and sides of a hash-dish with
bread-sippets, and pour your oysters and sauce into it. See _Obs._ to
receipt No. 278.

_Oysters fried._[192-*]--(No. 183.)

The largest and finest oysters are to be chosen for this purpose; simmer
them in their own liquor for a couple of minutes, take them out and lay
them on a cloth to drain, beard them and then flour them, egg and
bread-crumb them, put them into boiling fat, and fry them a delicate
brown.

_Obs._ An elegant garnish for made dishes, stewed rump-steaks, boiled or
fried fish, &c.; but they are too hard and dry to be eaten.

FOOTNOTES:

[168-*] “I have ascertained, by many years’ observation, that a turbot
kept two or three days is much better eating than a very fresh
one.”--UDE’S _Cookery_, p. 238.

“TURBOTS. The finest brought to the London market are caught off the
Dutch coast, or German Ocean, and are brought in well-boats alive. The
commencement of the season is generally about March and April, and
continues all the summer. Turbots, like other fish, do not spawn all at
the same time; therefore, there is always good and bad nearly all the
year round. For this year or two past, there has been an immense
quantity brought to London, from all parts, and of all qualities: a
great many from a new fishery off Hartlepool, which are very
handsome-looking turbot, but by no means equal to what are caught off
the Dutch coast. Many excellent turbots are caught off Dover and
Dungeness; and a large quantity brought from Scotland, packed in ice,
which are of a very inferior quality, and are generally to be bought for
about one-fourth the price of good turbots.

“_Brills_ are generally caught at the same place as turbots, and are
generally of the same quality as the turbot, from the different parts.”

[170-*] A large pair of soles will take the fourth part of a quartern
loaf, which now costs twopence halfpenny. OATMEAL is a good substitute
for bread-crumbs, and costs comparatively nothing!!

[170-+] The FAT _will do two or three times_, if strained through a
hair-sieve, and put by; if you do not find it enough, put a little fresh
to it. Read No. 83, and the 3d chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery.

[170-++] This requires a heat of upwards of 600 degrees of Fahrenheit’s
thermometer:--FRYING is, in fact, _boiling in fat_.

[171-*] If you are in haste, lay the sole on a clean, soft cloth, cover
it with it, and gently press it upon the fish, to suck up the fat from
its surface.

[171-+] The very indifferent manner in which the operation of frying
fish is usually performed, we suppose, produced the following _jeu
d’esprit_, which appeared in _The Morning Chronicle_:--

“The King’s bench reports have cook’d up an odd dish,
An action for damages, _fry_ versus _fish_.
But, sure, if for damages action could lie,
It certainly must have been _fish_ against _fry_.”

The author of _The Cook’s Cookery_, 8vo. page 116, does not seem to
think this fish can be too fresh; for he commences his directions with,
“_If you can_, get a cod _hot_ out of the sea,” &c.

[172-*] The skate comes to the New-York market in the spring, but is not
esteemed, as we have many better fish. The part about the flap or
side-fin is best. A.

[172-+] The TAIL is so much thinner than the thick part of the body,
that, if boiled together, the former will be boiled too much, before the
latter is done enough; therefore it should be dressed separate; and the
best way of cooking it is to fry it in slices or fillets. See No. 151.

“_Cod_ generally comes into good season in October, when, if the weather
is cold, it eats as fine as at any time in the year; towards the latter
end of January and February, and part of March, they are mostly poor;
but the latter end of March, April, and May, they are generally
particularly fine; having shot their spawn, they come in fine order.
_The Dogger-bank cod_ are the most esteemed, as they generally cut in
large, fine flakes; the north-country cod, which are caught off the
Orkney Isles, are generally very stringy, or what is commonly called
_woolly_, and sell at a very inferior price, but are caught in much
greater abundance than the Dogger cod. The cod are all caught with hook,
and brought alive in well-boats to the London markets. The cod cured on
the Dogger-bank is remarkably fine, and seldom cured above two or three
weeks before brought to market; the _barrel cod_ is commonly cured on
the coast of Scotland and Yorkshire. There is a great deal of inferior
cured salt-fish brought from Newfoundland and Iceland.

“The SKULL of a Dogger-bank cod is one of those concatenations of
_tit-bits_ which some epicures are fond of, either baked or boiled: it
is composed of lots of pretty playthings or such finery, but will not do
for those who want a good meal: it may be bought for about 2_s._: either
boil it whole, or cut it into pieces, flour and dry them, and then egg
and crumb, and fry them, or stew it (No. 158).

“The TAIL of a cod cut in fillets or slices, and fried, makes a good
dish, and is generally to be bought at a very reasonable rate; if
boiled, it is soft and watery. _The skull and tail_ of a cod is a
favourite and excellent Scotch dish, stewed, and served up with anchovy
or oyster sauce, with the liquor it is boiled in, in a tureen.

“_Ling_ is brought to the London market in the same manner as cod, but
is very inferior to it, either fresh or salt.”

[173-*] There are several species of codfish sold alive in the New-York
markets: of these, the common cod is the best, and is in season from
November till spring. The price varies from three to six cents the
pound, as the market is well or scantily supplied. The head and
shoulders of a large cod, boiled, is the best part to grace the
dinner-table. It is full of rich gelatinous matter, which is savoury and
easy of digestion. Cod’s sounds and tongues are found on the stalls of
the fishmongers in the winter season. They are rich and nourishing, and
may be prepared to garnish the dish, or served up separately boiled. A.

[173-+] “In the sea-port towns of the New-England states in North
America, it has been a custom, time immemorial, among people of fashion,
to dine one day in the week (Saturday) on salt fish; and a long habit of
preparing the same dish has, as might have been expected, led to very
considerable improvements in the art of cooking it. I have often heard
foreigners declare, that they never tasted salt fish dressed in such
perfection: the secret of cooking it, is to keep it for several hours in
water that is _just scalding hot_, but which is never made actually to
boil.”--COUNT RUMFORD’S _10th Essay_, p. 18.

[174-*] That part of a cod which is near the tail, is considered, in
America, as the poorest part of the fish. A.

[174-+] Sturgeons, though sea-fish, ascend the fresh water rivers, and
in the Hudson are taken 80 miles above the salt water. They were
formerly called Albany beef, having been in plenty and cheap in the
market of that city. They are not, however, esteemed even there; and
since the running of the steamboats, and the quickness of their
passages, all the valuable fish of the sea-coast are found in that
inland city. A.

[174-++] The French do not flay them, but split them, dip them in flour,
and fry them in hot dripping.

[175-*] One of my culinary counsellors says, the heading of this receipt
should be, “_How to dress a good dish of fish while the cloth is
laying_.” If the articles are ready, twelve minutes will do it, with
very little trouble or expense. For richer stewed fish, see No. 164.

[176-*] Our experience goes to substantiate the same point. A.

[179-*] The perch of New-York are a small fresh-water fish, and seldom
boiled, being better calculated for frying or broiling, as a relish at
breakfast. A.

[180-*] SALMON. The earliest that comes in season to the London market
is brought from the Severn, and begins to come into season the beginning
of November, but very few so early, perhaps not above one in fifty, as
many of them will not shoot their spawn till January, or after, and then
continue in season till October, when they begin to get very thin and
poor. The principal supply of salmon is from different parts of
Scotland, packed in ice, and brought by water: if the vessels have a
fair wind, they will be in London in three days; but it frequently
happens that they are at sea perhaps a fortnight, when the greater part
of the fish is perished, and has, for a year or two past, sold as low as
twopence per pound, and up to as much as eighteen pence per pound at the
same time, owing to its different degrees of goodness. This accounts for
the very low prices at which the itinerant fishmongers cry their
“_delicate_ salmon,” “_dainty fresh_ salmon,” and “_live_ cod,” “_new_
mackerel,” &c. &c.

“Salmon gwilts, or salmon peel, are the small salmon which run from
about five or six pounds to ten pounds, are very good fish, and make
handsome dishes of fish, sent to table crooked in the form of an S.

“Berwick trout are a distinct fish from the gwilts, and are caught in
the river Tweed, and dressed in the same manner as the gwilt.

“Calvered salmon is the salmon caught in the Thames, and cut into slices
alive; and some few salmon are brought from Oxford to London alive, and
cut. A few slices make a handsome, genteel dish, but it is generally
very expensive; sometimes 15_s._ per pound.”

[Fresh salmon comes to the New-York market from the eastern states, and
mostly from Maine. It is also occasionally brought from the lakes and
rivers of the northern part of New-York in winter. A.]

[181-*] Small fish and fillets of whiting, turbots, brills, &c. and
slices of cod, or the head or tail of it, are excellent dressed the same
way.

[181-+] The yellow eels taste muddy; the whiteness of the belly of the
fish is not the only mark to know the best; the right colour of the back
is a very bright coppery hue: the olive-coloured are inferior; and those
tending to a green are worse.

[183-*] There are several species of mackerel in their season in the
New-York market. That which arrives in the spring is most esteemed, and
in greatest plenty. Spring mackerel is a migrating fish, and succeeds
the shad, or commences its run along the coast of New-Jersey and Long
Island, just before the shad disappears. It does not ascend the rivers,
but continues its course north-eastward in immense shoals, and is taken
by the fishermen with the hook and line, while sailing in smacks along
the coast, from the mouth of the Delaware to Nova Scotia. These fish are
kept in cars, and sold alive in the markets. They are mostly broiled,
and brought to the breakfast-table. The larger ones sometimes grace the
dining-table. They may be boiled, but are best when stuffed and baked in
an oven. A.

[183-+] The roe of the male fish is soft, like the brains of a calf;
that of the female is full of small eggs, and called hard roe.

[184-*] Mackerel of large size may be stuffed like a fowl, leaving the
head on, and baked in an oven. A.

[187-*] Lobsters are in great plenty and perfection in the New-York
markets. They are taken in Long Island Sound, and along the rocky shores
of Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. A.

[188-*] Crabs are not esteemed as a delicacy by epicures unless they are
soft, when they are fried whole. In July and August they shed their
coats, and in this state may be cooked and eaten without being
incommoded with their shells. A.

[189-*] Oyster sauce, No. 278; preserved oysters, No. 280.

[189-+] Those are called common oysters, which are picked up on the
French coast, and laid in the Colchester beds.

These are never so fine and fat as the natives, and seldom recover the
shock their feelings receive from being transported from their native
place: delicate little creatures, they are as exquisite in their own
taste as they are to the taste of others!

[189-++] Oysters are thus called, that are born, as well as bred and
fed, in this country, and are mostly spit in the Burnham and Mersey
rivers: they do not come to their finest condition till they are near
four years old.

[189-§] WILL RABISHA, in his receipt to “broil oysters,” (see his
Cookery, page 144,) directs, that while they are undergoing this
operation, they should be _fed_ with white wine and grated bread.

In BOYLE’S Works, 4to. 1772, vol. ii. p. 450, there is a very curious
chapter on the eating of oysters.

[191-*] “Animal food being composed of the most nutritious parts of the
food on which the animal lived, and having already been digested by the
proper organs of an animal, requires only solution and mixture; whereas
vegetable food must be converted into a substance of an animal nature,
by the proper action of our own viscera, and consequently requires more
labour of the stomach, and other digestive organs.”--BURTON _on the
Non-naturals_, page 213.

[192-*] New-York and other places on the sea-coast of the United States,
afford oysters in great plenty and perfection, and the various methods
of preparing them are well known. A.

BROTHS, GRAVIES, AND SOUPS.

_Beef Broth._[193-*]--(No. 185.)

Wash a leg or shin of beef very clean, crack the bone in two or three
places (this you should desire the butcher to do for you), add thereto
any trimmings you have of meat, game, or poultry (_i. e._ heads, necks,
gizzards, feet, &c.), and cover them with cold water; watch and stir it
up well from the bottom, and the moment it begins to simmer, skim it
carefully; your broth must be perfectly clear and limpid, on this
depends the goodness of the soups, sauces, and gravies, of which it is
the basis: then add some cold water to make the remaining scum rise, and
skim it again; when the scum is done rising, and the surface of the
broth is quite clear, put in one moderate-sized carrot, a head of
celery, two turnips, and two onions, it should not have any taste of
sweet herbs, spice, or garlic, &c.; either of these flavours can easily
be added immediately after, if desired, by Nos. 420, 421, 422, &c. cover
it close, set it by the side of the fire, and let it simmer very gently
(so as not to waste the broth) for four or five hours, or more,
according to the weight of the meat; strain it through a sieve into a
clean and dry stone pan, and set it in the coldest place you have.

_Obs._ This is the foundation for all sorts of soups and sauce, brown or
white.

Stew no longer than the meat is thoroughly done to eat, and you will
obtain excellent broth, without depriving the meat of its nutritious
succulence: to boil it to rags, as is the common practice, will not
enrich your broths, but make them thick and grouty.

The meat,[193-+] when gently stewed for only four or five hours till it
is just tender, remains abundantly sapid and nourishing, and will afford
a relishing and wholesome meal for half a dozen people; or make potted
beef (No. 503): or when you have strained off the broth, cover the meat
again with water, and let it go on boiling for four hours longer, and
make what some cooks call “second stock;” it will produce some very good
glaze, or portable soup; see No. 252, and the _Obs._ thereon.

_Beef Gravy._[194-*]--(No. 186.)

Cover the bottom of a stew-pan that is well tinned and quite clean, with
a slice of good ham, or lean bacon, four or five pounds of gravy beef
cut into half-pound pieces, a carrot, an onion with two cloves stuck in
it, and a head of celery; put a pint of broth or water to it, cover it
close, and set it over a moderate fire till the water is reduced to as
little as will just save the ingredients from burning; then turn it all
about, and let it brown slightly and equally all over; then put in three
quarts of boiling water;[194-+] when it boils up, skim it carefully, and
wipe off with a clean cloth what sticks round the edge and inside of the
stew-pan, that your gravy may be delicately clean and clear. Set it by
the side of a fire, where it will stew gently (to keep it clear, and
that it may not be reduced too much) for about four hours: if it has not
boiled too fast, there should be two quarts of good gravy; strain
through a silk, or tamis-sieve; take very particular care to skim it
well, and set it in a cold place.

_Strong savoury Gravy_ (No. 188), _alias “Brown Sauce,” alias_ “GRAND
ESPAGNOL.”

Take a stew-pan that will hold four quarts, lay a slice or two of ham or
bacon (about a quarter of an inch thick) at the bottom (undressed is the
best), and two pounds of beef or veal, a carrot, a large onion with four
cloves stuck in it, one head of celery, a bundle of parsley,
lemon-thyme, and savoury, about as big round as your little finger, when
tied close, a few leaves of sweet basil (one bay-leaf, and an eschalot,
if you like it), a piece of lemon-peel, and a dozen corns of
allspice;[195-*] pour on this half a pint of water, cover it close, and
let it simmer gently on a slow fire for half an hour, in which time it
will be almost dry; watch it very carefully, and let it catch a nice
brown colour; turn the meat, &c. let it brown on all sides; add three
pints of boiling water,[195-+] and boil for a couple of hours. It is now
rich gravy. To convert it into

_Cullis, or thickened Gravy._--(No. 189.)

To a quart of gravy, put a table-spoonful of thickening (No. 257), or
from one to two table-spoonfuls of flour, according to the thickness you
wish the gravy to be, into a basin, with a ladleful of the gravy; stir
it quick; add the rest by degrees, till it is all well mixed; then pour
it back into a stew-pan, and leave it by the side of the fire to simmer
for half an hour longer, that the thickening may thoroughly incorporate
with the gravy, the stew-pan being only half covered, stirring it every
now and then; a sort of scum will gather on the top, which it is best
not to take off till you are ready to strain it through a tamis.[195-++]

Take care it is neither of too pale nor too dark a colour; if it is not
thick enough, let it stew longer, till it is reduced to the desired
thickness; or add a bit of glaze, or portable soup to it, see No. 252:
if it is too thick, you can easily thin it with a spoonful or two of
warm broth, or water. When your sauce is done, stir it in the basin you
put it into once or twice, while it is cooling.

_Veal Broth._--(No. 191.)

A knuckle of veal is best; manage it as directed in the receipt for beef
broth (No. 185), only take care not to let it catch any colour, as this
and the following and richer preparation of veal, are chiefly used for
white soups, sauces, &c.

To make white sauce, see No. 364*.

_Veal Gravy._--(No. 192.)

About three pounds of the nut of the leg of veal, cut into half-pound
slices, with a quarter of a pound of ham in small dice; proceed as
directed for the beef gravy (No. 186), but watch the time of putting in
the water; if this is poured in too soon, the gravy will not have its
true flavour, if it be let alone till the meat sticks too much to the
pan, it will catch too brown a colour.

_Knuckle of Veal, or Shin or Leg of Beef, Soup._--(No. 193.)

A knuckle of veal of six pounds weight will make a large tureen of
excellent soup, and is thus easily prepared: cut half a pound of bacon
into slices about half an inch thick, lay it at the bottom of a
soup-kettle, or deep stew-pan, and on this place the knuckle of veal,
having first chopped the bone in two or three places; furnish it with
two carrots, two turnips, a head of celery, two large onions, with two
or three cloves stuck in one of them, a dozen corns of black, and the
same of Jamaica pepper, and a good bundle of lemon-thyme, winter
savoury, and parsley. Just cover the meat with cold water, and set it
over a quick fire till it boils; having skimmed it well, remove your
soup-kettle to the side of the fire; let it stew very gently till it is
quite tender, _i. e._ about four hours; then take out the bacon and
veal, strain the soup, and set it by in a cool place till you want it,
when you must take off the fat from the surface of your liquor, and
decant it (keeping back the settlings at the bottom) into a clean pan.

If you like a thickened soup, put three table-spoonfuls of the fat you
have taken off the soup into a small stew-pan, and mix it with four
table-spoonfuls of flour, pour a ladleful of soup to it, and mix it with
the rest by degrees, and boil it up till it is smooth.

Cut the meat and gristle of the knuckle and the bacon into mouthfuls,
and put them into the soup, and let them get warm.

_Obs._ You may make this more savoury by adding catchup (No. 439), &c.
Shin of beef may be dressed in the same way; see Knuckle of Veal stewed
with Rice (No. 523).

_Mutton Broth._--(No. 194.)

Take two pounds of scrag of mutton; to take the blood out, put it into a
stew-pan, and cover it with cold water; when the water becomes
milk-warm, pour it off; then put it in four or five pints of water, with
a tea-spoonful of salt, a table-spoonful of best grits, and an onion;
set it on a slow fire, and when you have taken all the scum off, put in
two or three turnips; let it simmer very slowly for two hours, and
strain it through a clean sieve.

This usual method of making mutton broth with the scrag, is by no means
the most economical method of obtaining it; for which see Nos. 490 and
564.

_Obs._ You may thicken broth by boiling with it a little oatmeal, rice,
Scotch or pearl barley; when you make it for a sick person, read the
_Obs._ on Broths, &c. in the last page of the 7th chapter of the
Rudiments of Cookery, and No. 564.

_Mock Mutton Broth, without Meat, in five minutes._--(No. 195.)

Boil a few leaves of parsley with two tea-spoonfuls of mushroom catchup,
in three-quarters of a pint of very thin gruel[197-*] (No. 572). Season
with a little salt.

_Obs._ This is improved by a few drops of eschalot wine (No. 402), and
the same of essence of sweet herbs (No. 419). See also Portable Soup
(No. 252).

_The Queen’s Morning “Bouillon de Santé_,”--(No. 196.)

Sir Kenelm Digby, in his “_Closet of Cookery_,” p. 149, London, 1669,
informs us, was made with “a brawny hen, or young cock, a handful of
parsley, one sprig of thyme, three of spearmint, a little balm, half a
great onion, a little pepper and salt, and a clove, with as much water
as will cover them; and this boiled to less than a pint for one good
porringerful.”

_Ox-heel Jelly._--(No. 198.)

Slit them in two, and take away the fat between the claws. The
proportion of water to each heel is about a quart: let it simmer gently
for eight hours (keeping it clean skimmed); it will make a pint and a
half of strong jelly, which is frequently used to make calves’ feet
jelly (No. 481), or to add to mock turtle and other soups. See No. 240*.
This jelly evaporated, as directed in No. 252, will give about three
ounces and a half of strong glaze. An unboiled heel costs one shilling
and threepence: so this glaze, which is very inferior in flavour to No.
252, is quite as expensive as that is.

N.B. To dress the heels, see No. 18.

_Obs._ Get a heel that has only been scalded, not one of those usually
sold at the tripe-shops, which have been boiled till almost all the
gelatine is extracted.

_Clear Gravy Soups._--(No. 200.)

Cut half a pound of ham into slices, and lay them at the bottom of a
large stew-pan or stock-pot, with two or three pounds of lean beef, and
as much veal; break the bones, and lay them on the meat; take off the
outer skin of two large onions and two turnips; wash, clean, and cut
into pieces a couple of large carrots, and two heads of celery; and put
in three cloves and a large blade of mace. Cover the stew-pan close, and
set it over a smart fire. When the meat begins to stick to the bottom of
the stew-pan, turn it; and when there is a nice brown glaze at the
bottom of the stew-pan, cover the meat with hot water: watch it, and
when it is coming to boil put in half a pint of cold water; take off the
scum; then put in half a pint more cold water, and skim it again, and
continue to do so till no more scum rises. Now set it on one side of the
fire to boil gently for about four hours; strain it through a clean
tamis or napkin (do not squeeze it, or the soup will be thick) into a
clean stone pan; let it remain till it is cold, and then remove all the
fat. When you decant it, be careful not to disturb the settlings at the
bottom of the pan.

The broth should be of a fine amber colour, and as clear as rock water.
If it is not quite so bright as you wish it, put it into a stew-pan;
break two whites and shells of eggs into a basin; beat them well
together; put them into the soup: set it on a quick fire, and stir it
with a whisk till it boils; then set it on one side of the fire to
settle for ten minutes; run it through a fine napkin into a basin, and
it is ready.

However, if your broth is carefully skimmed, &c. according to the
directions above given, it will be clear enough without clarifying;
which process impairs the flavour of it in a higher proportion than it
improves its appearance.

_Obs._--This is the basis of almost all gravy soups, which are called by
the name of the vegetables that are put into them.

Carrots, turnips, onions, celery, and a few leaves of chervil, make what
is called spring soup, or soup santé; to this a pint of green pease, or
asparagus pease, or French beans cut into pieces, or a cabbage lettuce,
are an improvement.

With rice or Scotch barley, with macaroni or vermicelli, or celery, cut
into lengths, it will be the soup usually called by those names.

Or turnips scooped round, or young onions, will give you a clear turnip
or onion soup; and all these vegetables mixed together, soup GRESSI.

The gravy for all these soups may be produced _extempore_ with No. 252.

The roots and vegetables you use must be boiled first, or they will
impregnate the soup with too strong a flavour.

The seasoning for all these soups is the same, viz. salt and a very
little Cayenne pepper.

N.B. To make excellent vegetable gravy soup for 4-1/2_d._ a quart, see
No. 224.

_Scotch Barley Broth_;--a good and substantial dinner for fivepence per
head.--(No. 204.)

Wash three-quarters of a pound of Scotch barley in a little cold water;
put it in a soup-pot with a shin or leg of beef, of about ten pounds
weight, sawed into four pieces (tell the butcher to do this for you);
cover it well with cold water; set it on the fire: when it boils skim it
very clean, and put in two onions of about three ounces weight each; set
it by the side of the fire to simmer very gently about two hours; then
skim all the fat clean off, and put in two heads of celery, and a large
turnip cut into small squares; season it with salt, and let it boil an
hour and a half longer, and it is ready: take out the meat (carefully
with a slice, and cover it up, and set it by the fire to keep warm), and
skim the broth well before you put it in the tureen.

_s._ _d._
Shin of beef of 10lbs 2 0
3/4 pound of barley 0 4-1/2
2 onions, of about 3 oz. weight each 0 0-1/2
Celery 0 1
Large turnip 0 1
----------
2 7

Thus you get four quarts of good soup at 8_d._ per quart, besides
another quart to make sauce for the meat, in the following manner:

Put a quart of the soup into a basin; put about an ounce of flour into a
stew-pan, and pour the broth to it by degrees, stirring it well
together; set it on the fire, and stir it till it boils; then (some put
in a glass of port wine, or mushroom catchup, No. 439) let it boil up,
and it is ready.

Put the meat in a ragoût dish, and strain the sauce through a sieve
over the meat; you may put to it some capers, or minced gherkins or
walnuts, &c.

If the beef has been stewed with proper care in a very gentle manner,
and be taken up at “the critical moment when it is just tender,” you
will obtain an excellent and savoury meal for eight people for
fivepence; _i. e._ for only the cost of the glass of port wine.

If you use veal, cover the meat with No. 364--2.

_Obs._--This is a most frugal, agreeable, and nutritive meal; it will
neither lighten the purse, nor lie heavy on the stomach, and will
furnish a plentiful and pleasant soup and meat for eight persons. So you
may give a good dinner for 5_d._ per head!!! See also Nos. 229 and 239.

N.B. If you will draw your purse-strings a little wider, and allow 1_d._
per mouth more, prepare a pint of young onions as directed in No. 296,
and garnish the dish with them, or some carrots or turnips cut into
squares; and for 6_d._ per head you will have as good a RAGOUT as “_le
Cuisinier Impérial de France_” can give you for as many shillings. Read
_Obs._ to No. 493.

You may vary the flavour by adding a little curry powder (No. 455),
ragoût (No. 457, &c.), or any of the store sauces and flavouring
essences between Nos. 396 and 463; you may garnish the dish with split
pickled mangoes, walnuts, gherkins, onions, &c. See Wow wow Sauce, No.
328.

If it is made the evening before the soup is wanted, and suffered to
stand till it is cold, much fat[200-*] may be removed from the surface
of the soup, which is, when clarified (No. 83), useful for all the
purposes that drippings are applied to.

_Scotch Soups._--(No. 205.)

The three following receipts are the contribution of a friend at
Edinburgh.

_Winter Hotch-potch._

Take the best end of a neck or loin of mutton; cut it into neat chops;
cut four carrots, and as many turnips into slices; put on four quarts of
water, with half the carrots and turnips, and a whole one of each, with
a pound of dried green pease, which must be put to soak the night
before; let it boil two hours, then take out the whole carrot and
turnip; bruise and return them; put in the meat, and the rest of the
carrot and turnip, some pepper and salt, and boil slowly three-quarters
of an hour; a short time before serving, add an onion cut small and a
head of celery.

_Cocky-leeky Soup._

Take a scrag of mutton, or shank of veal, three quarts of water (or
liquor in which meat has been boiled), and a good-sized fowl, with two
or three leeks cut in pieces about an inch long, pepper and salt; boil
slowly about an hour: then put in as many more leeks, and give it
three-quarters of an hour longer: this is very good, made of good
beef-stock, and leeks put in it twice.

_Lamb Stove, or Lamb Stew._

Take a lamb’s head and lights; open the jaws of the head, and wash them
thoroughly; put them in a pot with some beef-stock, made with three
quarts of water, and two pounds of shin of beef, strained; boil very
slowly for an hour; wash and string two or three good handfuls of
spinach (or spinage); put it in twenty minutes before serving; add a
little parsley, and one or two onions, a short time before it comes off
the fire; season with pepper and salt, and serve all together in a
tureen.

_Scotch Brose._--(No. 205*.)

“This favourite Scotch dish is generally made with the liquor meat has
been boiled in.

“Put half a pint of oatmeal into a porringer with a little salt, if
there be not enough in the broth, of which add as much as will mix it to
the consistence of hasty-pudding, or a little thicker; lastly, take a
little of the fat that swims on the broth, and put it on the crowdie,
and eat it in the same way as hasty-pudding.”

_Obs._--This Scotsman’s dish is easily prepared at very little expense,
and is pleasant-tasted and nutritious. To dress a haggies, see No. 488*,
and Minced Collops, following it.

N.B. For various methods of making and flavouring oatmeal gruel, see No.
572.

_Carrot Soup._--(No. 212.)

Scrape and wash half a dozen large carrots; peel off the red outside
(which is the only part used for this soup); put it into a gallon
stew-pan, with one head of celery, and an onion, cut into thin pieces;
take two quarts of beef, veal, or mutton broth, or if you have any cold
roast-beef bones (or liquor, in which mutton or beef has been boiled),
you may make very good broth for this soup: when you have put the broth
to the roots, cover the stew-pan close, and set it on a slow stove for
two hours and a half, when the carrots will be soft enough (some cooks
put in a tea-cupful of bread-crumbs); boil for two or three minutes; rub
it through a tamis, or hair-sieve, with a wooden spoon, and add as much
broth as will make it a proper thickness, _i. e._ almost as thick as
pease soup: put it into a clean stew-pan; make it hot; season it with a
little salt, and send it up with some toasted bread, cut into pieces
half an inch square. Some put it into the soup; but the best way is to
send it up on a plate, as a side-dish.

_Obs._ This is neither expensive nor troublesome to prepare. In the
kitchens of some opulent epicures, to make this soup make a little
stronger impression on the gustatory organs of “grands gourmands,” the
celery and onions are sliced, and fried in butter of a light brown, the
soup is poured into the stew-pan to them, and all is boiled up together.
But this must be done very carefully with butter, or very nicely
clarified fat; and the “grand cuisinier” adds spices, &c. “_ad
libitum_.”

_Turnip and Parsnip Soups_,--(No. 213.)

Are made in the same manner as the carrot soup (No. 212.)

_Celery Soup._--(No. 214.)

Split half a dozen heads of celery into slips about two inches long;
wash them well; lay them on a hair-sieve to drain, and put them into
three quarts of No. 200 in a gallon soup-pot; set it by the side of the
fire to stew very gently till the celery is tender (this will take about
an hour). If any scum rises, take it off; season with a little salt.

_Obs._ When celery cannot be procured, half a drachm of the seed,
pounded fine, which may be considered as the essence of celery (costs
only one-third of a farthing, and can be had at any season), put in a
quarter of an hour before the soup is done, and a little sugar, will
give as much flavour to half a gallon of soup as two heads of celery
weighing seven ounces, and costing 2_d._; or add a little essence of
celery, No. 409.

_Green Pease Soup._--(No. 216.)

A peck of pease will make you a good tureen of soup. In shelling them,
put the old ones in one basin, and the young ones in another, and keep
out a pint of them, and boil them separately to put into your soup when
it is finished: put a large saucepan on the fire half full of water;
when it boils, put the pease in, with a handful of salt; let them boil
till they are done enough, _i. e._ from twenty to thirty minutes,
according to their age and size; then drain them in a colander, and put
them into a clean gallon stew-pan, and three quarts of plain veal or
mutton broth (drawn from meat without any spices or herbs, &c. which
would overpower the flavour of the soup); cover the stew-pan close, and
set it over a slow fire to stew gently for an hour; add a tea-cupful of
bread-crumbs, and then rub it through a tamis into another stew-pan;
stir it with a wooden spoon, and if it is too thick, add a little more
broth: have ready boiled as for eating, a pint of young pease, and put
them into the soup; season with a little salt and sugar.

N.B. Some cooks, while this soup is going on, slice a couple of
cucumbers (as you would for eating); take out the seeds; lay them on a
cloth to drain, and then flour them, and fry them a light brown in a
little butter; put them into the soup the last thing before it goes to
table.

_Obs._ If the soup is not green enough, pound a handful of pea-hulls or
spinage, and squeeze the juice through a cloth into the soup: some
leaves of mint may be added, if approved.

_Plain green Pease Soup without Meat._--(No. 217.)

Take a quart of green pease (keep out half a pint of the youngest; boil
them separately, and put them in the soup when it is finished); put them
on in boiling water; boil them tender, and then pour off the water, and
set it by to make the soup with: put the pease into a mortar, and pound
them to a mash; then put them into two quarts of the water you boiled
the pease in; stir all well together; let it boil up for about five
minutes, and then rub it through a hair-sieve or tamis. If the pease are
good, it will be as thick and fine a vegetable soup as need be sent to
table.

_Pease Soup._--(No. 218.)

The common way of making pease soup[203-*] is--to a quart of split
pease put three quarts of cold soft water, not more, (or it will be what
“Jack Ros-bif” calls “soup maigre,”) notwithstanding Mother Glasse
orders a gallon (and her ladyship’s directions have been copied by
almost every cookery-book maker who has strung receipts together since),
with half a pound of bacon (not very fat), or roast-beef bones, or four
anchovies: or, instead of the water, three quarts of the liquor in which
beef, mutton, pork, or poultry has been boiled, tasting it first, to
make sure it is not too salt.[204-*]

Wash two heads of celery;[204-+] cut it, and put it in, with two onions
peeled, and a sprig of savoury, or sweet marjoram, or lemon-thyme; set
it on the trivet, and let it simmer very gently over a slow fire,
stirring it every quarter of an hour (to keep the pease from sticking
to, and burning at, the bottom of the soup-pot) till the pease are
tender, which will be in about three hours. Some cooks now slice a head
of celery, and half an ounce of onions, and fry them in a little butter,
and put them into the soup till they are lightly browned; then work the
whole through a coarse hair-sieve, and then through a fine sieve, or
(what is better) through a tamis, with the back of a wooden spoon: put
it into a clean stew-pan, with half a tea-spoonful of ground black
pepper;[204-++] let it boil again for ten minutes, and if any fat
arises, skim it off.

Send up on a plate, toasted bread cut into little pieces a quarter of an
inch square, or cut a slice of bread (that has been baked two days) into
dice, not more than half an inch square; put half a pound of perfectly
clean drippings or lard into an iron frying-pan; when it is hot, fry the
bread; take care and turn it about with a slice, or by shaking of the
pan as it is frying, that it may be on each side of a delicate light
brown, (No. 319;) take it up with a fish-slice, and lay it on a sheet of
paper to drain the fat: be careful that this is done nicely: send these
up in one side-dish, and dried and powdered mint or savoury, or sweet
marjoram, &c. in another.

Those who are for a double relish, and are true lovers of “_haut goût_,”
may have some bacon cut into small squares like the bread, and fried
till it is crisp, or some little lumps of boiled pickled pork; or put
cucumber fried into this soup, as you have directions in No. 216.

_Obs._ The most economical method of making pease soup, is to save the
bones of a joint of roast beef, and put them into the liquor in which
mutton, or beef, or pork, or poultry, has been boiled, and proceed as in
the above receipt. A hock, or shank-bone of ham, a ham-bone, the root of
a tongue, or a red or pickled herring, are favourite additions with some
cooks; others send up rice or vermicelli with pease soup.[205-*]

N.B. To make pease soup extempore, see No. 555.

If you wish to make soup the same day you boil meat or poultry, prepare
the pease the same as for pease pudding (No. 555), to which you may add
an onion and a head of celery, when you rub the pease through the sieve;
instead of putting eggs and butter, add some of the liquor from the pot
to make it a proper thickness; put it on to boil for five minutes, and
it is ready.

_Obs._ This latter is by far the easiest and the best way of making
pease soup.

Pease soup may be made savoury and agreeable to the palate, without any
meat, by incorporating two ounces of fresh and nicely-clarified beef,
mutton, or pork drippings (see No. 83), with two ounces of oatmeal, and
mixing this well into the gallon of soup, made as above directed: see
also No. 229.

_Pease Soup and pickled Pork._--(No. 220.)

A couple of pounds of the belly part of pickled pork will make very good
broth for pease soup, if the pork be not too salt; if it has been in
salt more than two days, it must be laid in water the night before it is
used.

Put on the ingredients mentioned in No. 218, in three quarts of water;
boil gently for two hours, then put in the pork, and boil very gently
till it is done enough to eat; this will take about an hour and a half,
or two hours longer, according to its thickness; when done, wash the
pork clean in hot water, send it up in a dish, or cut it into mouthfuls,
and put it into the soup in the tureen, with the accompaniments ordered
in No. 218.

_Obs._ The meat being boiled no longer than to be done enough to be
eaten, you get excellent soup, without any expense of meat destroyed.

“In Canada, the inhabitants live three-fourths of the year on pease
soup, prepared with salt pork, which is boiled till the fat is entirely
dissolved among the soup, giving it a rich flavour.”--The Hon. J.
COCHRANE’S _Seaman’s Guide_, 8vo. 1797, p. 31.

_Plain Pease Soup._--(No. 221.)

To a quart of split pease, and two heads of celery, (and most cooks
would put a large onion,) put three quarts of broth or soft water; let
them simmer gently on a trivet over a slow fire for three hours,
stirring up every quarter of an hour to prevent the pease burning at the
bottom of the soup-kettle (if the water boils away, and the soup gets
too thick, add some boiling water to it); when they are well softened,
work them through a coarse sieve, and then through a fine sieve or a
tamis; wash out your stew-pan, and then return the soup into it, and
give it a boil up; take off any scum that comes up, and it is ready.
Prepare fried bread, and dried mint, as directed in No. 218, and send
them up with it on two side dishes.

_Obs._ This is an excellent family soup, produced with very little
trouble or expense.

Most of the receipts for pease soup are crowded with ingredients which
entirely overpower the flavour of the pease. See No. 555.

_Asparagus Soup._--(No. 222.)

This is made with the points of asparagus, in the same manner as the
green pease soup (No. 216 or 17) is with pease: let half the asparagus
be rubbed through a sieve, and the other cut in pieces about an inch
long, and boiled till done enough, and sent up in the soup: to make two
quarts, there must be a pint of heads to thicken it, and half a pint cut
in; take care to preserve these green and a little crisp. This soup is
sometimes made by adding the asparagus heads to common pease soup.

_Obs._ Some cooks fry half an ounce of onion in a little butter, and rub
it through a sieve, and add it with the other ingredients; the _haut
goût_ of the onion will entirely overcome the delicate flavour of the
asparagus, and we protest against all such combinations.

_Maigre, or Vegetable Gravy Soup._[207-*]--(No. 224.)

Put into a gallon stew-pan three ounces of butter; set it over a slow
fire; while it is melting, slice four ounces of onion; cut in small
pieces one turnip, one carrot, and a head of celery; put them in the
stewpan, cover it close, let it fry till they are lightly browned; this
will take about twenty-five minutes: have ready, in a sauce-pan, a pint
of pease, with four quarts of water; when the roots in the stew-pan are
quite brown, and the pease come to a boil, put the pease and water to
them; put it on the fire; when it boils, skim it clean, and put in a
crust of bread about as big as the top of a twopenny loaf, twenty-four
berries of allspice, the same of black pepper, and two blades of mace;
cover it close, let it simmer gently for one hour and a half; then set
it from the fire for ten minutes; then pour it off very gently (so as
not to disturb the sediment at the bottom of the stew-pan) into a large
basin; let it stand (about two hours) till it is quite clear: while this
is doing, shred one large turnip, the red part of a large carrot, three
ounces of onion minced, and one large head of celery cut into small
bits; put the turnips and carrots on the fire in cold water, let them
boil five minutes, then drain them on a sieve, then pour off the soup
clear into a stew-pan, put in the roots, put the soup on the fire, let
it simmer gently till the herbs are tender (from thirty to forty
minutes), season it with salt and a little Cayenne, and it is ready.

You may add a table-spoonful of mushroom catchup (No. 439).

_Obs._ You will have three quarts of soup, as well coloured, and almost
as well flavoured, as if made with gravy meat.

N.B. To make this it requires nearly five hours. To fry the herbs
requires twenty-five minutes; to boil all together, one hour and a half;
to settle, at the least, two hours; when clear, and put on the fire
again, half an hour more.

_FISH SOUPS._--(No. 225.)

_Eel Soup._

To make a tureenful, take a couple of middling-sized onions, cut them in
half, and cross your knife over them two or three times; put two ounces
of butter into a stew-pan when it is melted, put in the onions, stir
them about till they are lightly browned; cut into pieces three pounds
of unskinned eels, put them into your stew-pan, and shake them over the
fire for five minutes; then add three quarts of boiling water, and when
they come to a boil, take the scum off very clean; then put in a quarter
of an ounce of the green leaves (not dried) of winter savoury, the same
of lemon thyme, and twice the quantity of parsley, two drachms of
allspice, the same of black pepper; cover it close, and let it boil
gently for two hours; then strain it off, and skim it very clean. To
thicken it, put three ounces of butter into a clean stew-pan; when it is
melted, stir in as much flour as will make it of a stiff paste, then add
the liquor by degrees; let it simmer for ten minutes, and pass it
through a sieve; then put your soup on in a clean stew-pan, and have
ready some little square pieces of fish fried of a nice light brown,
either eels, soles, plaice, or skate will do; the fried fish should be
added about ten minutes before the soup is served up. Forcemeat balls
(Nos. 375, 378, &c.) are sometimes added.

_Obs._ Excellent fish soups may be made with a cod’s skull, or skate, or
flounders, &c. boiled in no more water than will just cover them, and
the liquor thickened with oatmeal, &c.

_Cheap Soups._--(No. 229.)

Among the variety of schemes that have been suggested for “bettering the
condition of the poor,” a more useful or extensive charity cannot be
devised, than that of instructing them in economical cookery: it is one
of the most-important objects to which the attention of any real
well-wisher to the public interest can possibly be directed.

The best and cheapest method of making a nourishing soup, is least known
to those who have most need of it; it will enable those who have small
incomes and large families to make the most of the little they possess,
without pinching their children of that wholesome nourishment which is
necessary for the purpose of rearing them up to maturity in health and
strength.

The labouring classes seldom purchase what are called the coarser pieces
of meat, because they do not know how to dress them, but lay out their
money in pieces for roasting, &c., of which the bones, &c. enhance the
price of the actual meat to nearly a shilling per pound, and the
diminution of weight by roasting amounts to 32 per cent. This, for the
sake of saving time, trouble, and fire, is generally sent to an oven to
be baked; the nourishing parts are evaporated and dried up, its weight
is diminished nearly one-third, and all that a poor man can afford to
purchase with his week’s earnings, perhaps does not half satisfy the
appetites of himself and family for a couple of days.

If a hard-working man cannot get a comfortable meal at home, he soon
finds his way to the public-house, the poor wife contents herself with
tea and bread and butter, and the children are half starved.

DR. KITCHINER’S receipt to make a cheap, nutritive, and palatable soup,
fully adequate to satisfy appetite and support strength, will open a new
source to those benevolent housekeepers who are disposed to relieve the
poor; will show the industrious classes how much they have it in their
power to assist themselves; and rescue them from being dependent on the
precarious bounty of others, by teaching them how they may obtain an
abundant, salubrious, and agreeable aliment for themselves and families,
for one penny per quart. See page 210.

For various economical soups, see Nos. 204, 239, 240, 224, 221, and
_Obs._ to Nos. 244 and 252, and Nos. 493 and 502.

_Obs._ Dripping intended for soup should be taken out of the pan almost
as soon as it has dropped from the meat; if it is not quite clean,
clarify it. See receipt, No. 83.

Dripping thus prepared is a very different thing from that which has
remained in the dripping-pan all the time the meat has been roasting,
and perhaps live coals have dropped into it.[209-*]

Distributing soup does not answer half so well as teaching people how to
make it, and improve their comfort at home: the time lost in waiting at
the soup-house is seldom less than three hours; in which time, by any
industrious occupation, however poorly paid, they could earn more money
than the quart of soup is worth.

DR. KITCHINER’S _Receipt to make a Gallon of Barley Broth for a Groat_.
See also No. 204.

Put four ounces of Scotch barley (previously washed in cold water), and
four ounces of sliced onions, into five quarts of water; boil gently for
one hour, and pour it into a pan; then put into the saucepan from one to
two ounces of clean beef or mutton drippings, or melted suet, (to
clarify these, see No. 83) or two or three ounces of fat bacon minced;
when melted, stir into it four ounces of oatmeal; rub these together
till you make a paste (if this be properly managed, the whole of the fat
will combine with the barley broth, and not a particle appear on the
surface to offend the most delicate stomach); now add the barley broth,
at first a spoonful at a time, then the rest by degrees, stirring it
well together till it boils. To season it, put a drachm of
finely-pounded celery, or cress-seed, or half a drachm of each, and a
quarter of a drachm of finely-pounded Cayenne (No. 404), or a drachm and
a half of ground black pepper, or allspice, into a tea-cup, and mix it
up with a little of the soup, and then pour it into the rest; stir it
thoroughly together; let it simmer gently a quarter of an hour longer,
season it with salt, and it is ready.

The flavour may be varied by doubling the portion of onions, or adding a
clove of garlic or eschalot, and leaving out the celery-seed (No. 572),
or put in shredded roots as in No. 224; or, instead of oatmeal, thicken
it with ground rice, or pease, &c., and make it savoury with fried
onions.

This preparation, excellent as it is, would, without variety, soon
become less agreeable.

Nothing so completely disarms poverty of its sting, as the means of
rendering a scanty pittance capable of yielding a comfortable variety.

Change of flavour is absolutely necessary, not merely as a matter of
pleasure and comfort, but of health; _toujours perdrix_ is a true
proverb.

This soup will be much improved, if, instead of water, it be made with
the liquor meat has been boiled in; at tripe, cow-heel, and cook-shops,
this may be had for little or nothing.

This soup has the advantage of being very soon and easily made, with no
more fuel than is necessary to warm a room; those who have not tasted
it, cannot imagine what a savoury and satisfying meal is produced by the
combination of these cheap and homely ingredients.

If the generally-received opinion be true, that animal and vegetable
foods afford nourishment in proportion to the quantity of oil, jelly,
and mucilage, that can be extracted from them, this soup has strong
claims to the attention of rational economists.

_Craw-fish Soup._--(No. 235.)

This soup is sometimes made with beef, or veal broth, or with fish, in
the following manner:

Take flounders, eels, gudgeons, &c., and set them on to boil in cold
water; when it is pretty nigh boiling, skim it well; and to three quarts
put in a couple of onions, and as many carrots cut to pieces, some
parsley, a dozen berries of black and Jamaica pepper, and about half a
hundred craw-fish; take off the small claws and shells of the tails;
pound them fine, and boil them with the broth about an hour; strain off,
and break in some crusts of bread to thicken it, and, if you can get it,
the spawn of a lobster; pound it, and put it to the soup; let it simmer
very gently for a couple of minutes; put in your craw-fish to get hot,
and the soup is ready.

_Obs._--One of my predecessors recommends craw-fish pounded alive, to
sweeten the sharpness of the blood. Vide CLERMONT’S _Cookery_, p. 5,
London, 1776.

“_Un des grands hommes de bouche de France_” says, “_Un bon coulis
d’ecrevisses est le paradis sur la terre, et digne de la table des
dieux_; and of all the tribe of shell-fish, which our industry and our
sensuality bring from the bottom of the sea, the river, or the pond, the
craw-fish is incomparably the most useful and the most delicious.”

_Lobster Soup._--(No. 237.)

You must have three fine lively[211-*] young hen lobsters, and boil
them, see No. 176; when cold, split the tails; take out the fish, crack
the claws, and cut the meat into mouthfuls: take out the coral, and soft
part of the body; bruise part of the coral in a mortar; pick out the
fish from the chines; beat part of it with the coral, and with this make
forcemeat balls, finely-flavoured with mace or nutmeg, a little grated
lemon-peel, anchovy, and Cayenne; pound these with the yelk of an egg.

Have three quarts of veal broth; bruise the small legs and the chine,
and put them into it, to boil for twenty minutes, then strain it; and
then to thicken it, take the live spawn and bruise it in a mortar with a
little butter and flour; rub it through a sieve, and add it to the soup
with the meat of the lobsters, and the remaining coral; let it simmer
very gently for ten minutes; do not let it boil, or its fine red colour
will immediately fade; turn it into a tureen; add the juice of a good
lemon, and a little essence of anchovy.

_Soup and Bouilli._--(No. 238. See also No. 5.)

The best parts for this purpose are the leg or shin, or a piece of the
middle of a brisket of beef, of about seven or eight pounds weight; lay
it on a fish-drainer, or when you take it up put a slice under it, which
will enable you to place it on the dish entire; put it into a soup-pot
or deep stew-pan, with cold water enough to cover it, and a quart over;
set it on a quick fire to get the scum up, which remove as it rises;
then put in two carrots, two turnips, two leeks, or two large onions,
two heads of celery, two or three cloves, and a fagot of parsley and
sweet herbs; set the pot by the side of the fire to simmer very gently,
till the meat is just tender enough to eat: this will require about four
or five hours.

Put a large carrot, a turnip, a large onion, and a head or two of
celery, into the soup whole; take them out as soon as they are done
enough; lay them on a dish till they are cold; then cut them into small
squares: when the beef is done, take it out carefully: to dish it up,
see No. 204, or No. 493: strain the soup through a hair-sieve into a
clean stew-pan; take off the fat, and put the vegetables that are cut
into the soup, the flavour of which you may heighten by adding a
table-spoonful of mushroom catchup.

If a thickened soup is preferred, take four large table-spoonfuls of the
clear fat from the top of the pot, and four spoonfuls of flour; mix it
smooth together; then by degrees stir it well into the soup, which
simmer for ten minutes longer at least; skim it well, and pass it
through a tamis, or fine sieve, and add the vegetables and seasoning the
same as directed in the clear soup.

Keep the beef hot, and send it up (as a remove to the soup) with
finely-chopped parsley sprinkled on the top, and a sauce-boat of No.
328.

_Ox-head Soup_,--(No. 239.)

Should be prepared the day before it is to be eaten, as you cannot cut
the meat off the head into neat mouthfuls unless it is cold: therefore,
the day before you want this soup, put half an ox-cheek into a tub of
cold water to soak for a couple of hours; then break the bones that have
not been broken at the butcher’s, and wash it very well in warm water;
put it into a pot, and cover it with cold water; when it boils, skim it
very clean, and then put in one head of celery, a couple of carrots, a
turnip, two large onions, two dozen berries of black pepper, same of
allspice, and a bundle of sweet herbs, such as marjoram, lemon-thyme,
savoury, and a handful of parsley; cover the soup-pot close, and set it
on a slow fire; take off the scum, which will rise when it is coming to
a boil, and set it by the fireside to stew very gently for about three
hours; take out the head, lay it on a dish, pour the soup through a fine
sieve into a stone-ware pan, and set it and the head by in a cool place
till the next day: then cut the meat into neat mouthfuls, skim and
strain off the broth, put two quarts of it and the meat into a clean
stew-pan, let it simmer very gently for half an hour longer, and it is
ready. If you wish it thickened (which we do not recommend, for the
reasons given in the 7th chapter of the Rudiments of Cookery), put two
ounces of butter into a stew-pan; when it is melted, throw in as much
flour as will dry it up; when they are all well mixed together, and
browned by degrees, pour to this your soup, and stir it well together;
let it simmer for half an hour longer; strain it through a hair-sieve
into a clean stew-pan, and put to it the meat of the head; let it stew
half an hour longer, and season it with Cayenne pepper, salt, and a
glass of good wine, or a table-spoonful of brandy. See Ox-cheek stewed,
No. 507.

_Obs._--Those who wish this soup still more savoury, &c. for the means
of making it so, we refer to No. 247.

N.B. This is an excellent and economical soup. See also Nos. 204 and
229.

If you serve it as soup for a dozen people, thicken one tureen, and send
up the meat in that; and send up the other as a clear gravy soup, with
some of the carrots and turnips shredded, or cut into shapes.

_Ox-tail Soup._--(No. 240.)

Three tails, costing about 7_d._ each, will make a tureen of soup
(desire the butcher to divide them at the joints); lay them to soak in
warm water, while you get ready the vegetables.

Put into a gallon stew-pan eight cloves, two or three onions, half a
drachm of allspice, and the same of black pepper, and the tails;[214-*]
cover them with cold water; skim it carefully, when and as long as you
see any scum rise; then cover the pot as close as possible, and set it
on the side of the fire to keep gently simmering till the meat becomes
tender and will leave the bones easily, because it is to be eaten with a
spoon, without the assistance of a knife or fork; see N.B. to No. 244;
this will require about two hours: mind it is not done too much: when
perfectly tender, take out the meat and cut it off the bones, in neat
mouthfuls; skim the broth, and strain it through a sieve; if you prefer
a thickened soup, put flour and butter, as directed in the preceding
receipt; or put two table-spoonfuls of the fat you have taken off the
broth into a clean stew-pan, with as much flour as will make it into a
paste; set this over the fire, and stir them well together; then pour in
the broth by degrees, stirring it, and mixing it with the thickening;
let it simmer for another half hour, and when you have well skimmed it,
and it is quite smooth, then strain it through a tamis into a clean
stew-pan, put in the meat, with a table-spoonful of mushroom catchup
(No. 439), a glass of wine, and season it with salt.

For increasing the _piquance_ of this soup, read No. 247.

_Obs._--See N.B. to No. 244; if the meat is cut off the bones, you must
have three tails for a tureen, see N.B. to No. 244: some put an ox-cheek
or tails in an earthen pan, with all the ingredients as above, and send
them to a slow oven for five or six hours.

To stew ox-tails, see No. 531.

_Ox-heel Soup_,--(No. 240*.)

Must be made the day before it is to be eaten. Procure an ox-heel
undressed, or only scalded (not one that has been already boiled, as
they are at the tripe-shops, till almost all the gelatinous parts are
extracted), and two that have been boiled as they usually are at the
tripe-shops.

Cut the meat off the boiled heels into neat mouthfuls, and set it by on
a plate; put the trimmings and bones into a stew-pan, with three quarts
of water, and the unboiled heel cut into quarters; furnish a stew-pan
with two onions, and two turnips pared and sliced; pare off the red part
of a couple of large carrots, add a couple of eschalots cut in half, a
bunch of savoury or lemon-thyme, and double the quantity of parsley; set
this over, or by the side of a slow, steady fire, and keep it closely
covered and simmering very gently (or the soup liquor will evaporate)
for at least seven hours: during which, take care to remove the fat and
scum that will rise to the surface of the soup, which must be kept as
clean as possible.

Now strain the liquor through a sieve, and put two ounces of butter into
a clean stew-pan; when it is melted, stir into it as much flour as will
make it a stiff paste; add to it by degrees the soup liquor; give it a
boil up; strain it through a sieve, and put in the peel of a lemon pared
as thin as possible, and a couple of bay-leaves, and the meat of the
boiled heels; let it go on simmering for half an hour longer, _i. e._
till the meat is tender. Put in the juice of a lemon, a glass of wine,
and a table-spoonful of mushroom catchup, and the soup is ready for the
tureen.

_Obs._ Those who are disposed to make this a more substantial dish, may
introduce a couple of sets of goose or duck giblets, or ox-tails, or a
pound of veal cutlets, cut into mouthfuls.

_Hare, Rabbit, or Partridge Soup._--(No. 241.)

An old hare, or birds, when so tough as to defy the teeth in any other
form, will make very good soup.

Cut off the legs and shoulders; divide the body crossways, and stew them
very gently in three quarts of water, with one carrot, about one ounce
of onion, with four cloves, two blades of pounded mace, twenty-four
black peppers, and a bundle of sweet herbs, till the hare is tender
(most cooks add to the above a couple of slices of ham or bacon, and a
bay leaf, &c., but my palate and purse both plead against such
extravagance; the hare makes sufficiently savoury soup without them):
the time this will take depends very much upon its age, and how long it
has been kept before it is dressed: as a general rule, about three
hours: in the mean time, make a dozen and a half of nice forcemeat balls
(as big as nutmegs) of No. 379; when the hare is quite tender, take the
meat off the back, and the upper joint of the legs; cut it into neat
mouthfuls, and lay it aside; cut the rest of the meat off the legs,
shoulders, &c., mince it and pound it in a mortar, with an ounce of
butter, and two or three table-spoonfuls of flour moistened with a
little soup; rub this through a hair-sieve, and put it into the soup to
thicken it; let it simmer slowly half an hour longer, skimming it well;
put it through the tamis into the pan again; and put in the meat with a
glass of claret or port wine, and a table-spoonful of currant jelly to
each quart of soup; season it with salt, put in the forcemeat balls, and
when all is well warmed, the soup is ready.

_Obs._ Cold roast hare will make excellent soup. Chop it in pieces, and
stew it in water (according to the quantity of hare) for about an hour,
and manage it as in the above receipt: the stuffing of the hare will be
a substitute for sweet herbs and seasoning.

N.B. This soup may be made with mock hare, see No. 66.

_Game Soup._--(No. 242.)

In the game season, it is easy for a cook to give her master a very good
soup at a very little expense, by taking all the meat off the breasts of
any cold birds which have been left the preceding day, and pounding it
in a mortar, and beating to pieces the legs and bones, and boiling them
in some broth for an hour. Boil six turnips; mash them, and strain them
through a tamis-cloth with the meat that has been pounded in a mortar;
strain your broth, and put a little of it at a time into the tamis to
help you to strain all of it through. Put your soup-kettle near the
fire, but do not let it boil: when ready to dish your dinner, have six
yelks of eggs mixed with half a pint of cream; strain through a sieve;
put your soup on the fire, and as it is coming to boil, put in the eggs,
and stir well with a wooden spoon: do not let it boil, or it will
curdle.

_Goose or Duck Giblet Soup._[216-*]--(No. 244.)

Scald and pick very clean a couple sets of goose, or four of duck
giblets (the fresher the better); wash them well in warm water, in two
or three waters; cut off the noses and split the heads; divide the
gizzards and necks into mouthfuls. If the gizzards are not cut into
pieces before they are done enough, the rest of the meat, &c. will be
done too much; and knives and forks have no business in a soup-plate.
Crack the bones of the legs, and put them into a stew-pan; cover them
with cold water: when they boil, take off the scum as it rises; then
put in a bundle of herbs, such as lemon-thyme, winter savoury, or
marjoram, about three sprigs of each, and double the quantity of
parsley, an onion, twenty berries of allspice, the same of black pepper;
tie them all up in a muslin bag, and set them to stew very gently till
the gizzards are tender: this will take from an hour and a half to two
hours, according to the size and age of the giblets: take them up with a
skimmer, or a spoon full of holes, put them into the tureen, and cover
down close to keep warm till the soup is ready.

To thicken the soup. Melt an ounce and a half of butter in a clean
stew-pan; stir in as much flour as will make it into a paste; then pour
to it by degrees a ladleful of the giblet liquor; add the remainder by
degrees; let it boil about half an hour, stirring it all the while for
fear it should burn; skim it, and strain it through a fine sieve into a
basin; wash out the stew-pan; then return the soup into it, and season
it with a glass of wine, a table-spoonful of mushroom catchup, and a
little salt; let it have one boil up; and then put the giblets in to get
hot, and the soup is ready.

_Obs._ Thus managed, one set of goose, or two of duck giblets (which
latter may sometimes be had for 3_d._), will make a quart of healthful,
nourishing soup: if you think the giblets alone will not make the gravy
savoury enough, add a pound of beef or mutton, or bone of a knuckle of
veal, and heighten its “_piquance_” by adding a few leaves of sweet
basil, the juice of half a Seville orange or lemon, and half a glass of
wine, and a little of No. 343* to each quart of soup.

Those who are fond of forcemeat may slip the skin off the neck, and fill
it with No. 378; tie up the other end tight; put it into the soup about
half an hour before you take it up, or make some nice savoury balls of
the duck stuffing, No. 61.

_Obs._ Bespeak the giblets a couple of days before you desire to have
them: this is a favourite soup when the giblets are done till nicely
tender, but yet not overboiled. Giblets may be had from July to January;
the fresher they are the better.

N.B. This is rather a family-dish than a company one; the bones cannot
be well picked without the help of alive pincers.

Since Tom Coryat introduced forks, A. D. 1642, it has not been the
fashion to put “pickers and stealers” into soup.

_Mock Mock Turtle_,--(No. 245.)

_As made by_ Elizabeth Lister (_late cook to Dr. Kitchiner_), _bread and
biscuit baker, No. 6 Salcombe Place, York Terrace, Regent’s Park._
_Goes out to dress dinners on reasonable terms._

Line the bottom of a stew-pan that will hold five pints, with an ounce
of nice lean bacon or ham, a pound and a half of lean gravy beef, a
cow-heel, the inner rind of a carrot, a sprig of lemons-thyme, winter
savoury, three times the quantity of parsley, a few green leaves of
sweet basil,[218-*] and two eschalots; put in a large onion, with four
cloves stuck in it, eighteen corns of allspice, the same of black
pepper; pour on these a quarter of a pint of cold water, cover the
stew-pan, and set it on a slow fire, to boil gently for a quarter of an
hour; then, for fear the meat should catch, take off the cover, and
watch it; and when it has got a good brown colour, fill up the stew-pan
with boiling water, and let it simmer very gently for two hours: if you
wish to have the full benefit of the meat, only stew it till it is just
tender, cut it into mouthfuls, and put it into the soup. To thicken it,
pour two or three table-spoonfuls of flour, a ladleful of the gravy, and
stir it quick till it is well mixed; pour it back into the stew-pan
where the gravy is, and let it simmer gently for half an hour longer;
skim it, and then strain it through a tamis into the stew-pan: cut the
cow-heel into pieces about an inch square, squeeze through a sieve the
juice of a lemon, a table-spoonful of mushroom catchup, a tea-spoonful
of salt, half a tea-spoonful of ground black pepper, as much grated
nutmeg as will lie on a sixpence, and a glass of Madeira or sherry wine;
let it all simmer together for five minutes longer.

Forcemeat or egg balls may be added if you please; you will find a
receipt for these, No. 380, &c.

⁂ A pound of veal cutlets, or the belly part of pickled pork, or nice
double tripe cut into pieces about an inch square, and half an inch
thick, and rounded and trimmed neatly from all skin, gristle, &c. and
stewed till they are tender, will be a great addition.

_Mock Turtle_,--(No. 247.)

Is the “_bonne bouche_” which “the officers of the mouth” of old
England[219-*] prepare, when they choose to rival “_les grands
cuisiniers de France_” in a “_ragoût sans pareil_.”

The following receipt is an attempt (and the committee of taste
pronounced it a successful one), to imitate the excellent and generally
approved mock turtle made by Messrs. Birch, Cornhill.

Endeavour to have the head and the broth ready for the soup,[219-+] the
day before it is to be eaten.

It will take eight hours to prepare it properly.

_hours._
Cleaning and soaking the head 1
To parboil it to cut up 1
Cooling, nearly 1
Making the broth and finishing the soup 5
---
8

Get a calf’s head with the skin on (the fresher the better); take out
the brains, wash the head several times in cold water, let it soak for
about an hour in spring-water, then lay it in a stew-pan, and cover it
with cold water, and half a gallon over; as it becomes warm, a great
deal of scum will rise, which must be immediately removed; let it boil
gently for one hour, take it up, and when almost cold, cut the head into
pieces about an inch and a half by an inch and a quarter, and the tongue
into mouthfuls, or rather make a side-dish of the tongue and brains, as
in No. 10.

When the head is taken out, put in the stock meat,[219-++] about five
pounds of knuckle of veal, and as much beef; add to the stock all the
trimmings and bones of the head, skim it well, and then cover it close,
and let it boil five hours (reserve a couple of quarts of this to make
gravy sauces, &c. see No. 307); then strain it off, and let it stand
till the next morning; then take off the fat, set a large stew-pan on
the fire with half a pound of good fresh butter, twelve ounces of onions
sliced, and four ounces of green sage; chop it a little; let these fry
one hour; then rub in half a pound of flour, and by degrees add your
broth till it is the thickness of cream; season it with a quarter of an
ounce of ground allspice and half an ounce of black pepper ground very
fine, salt to your taste, and the rind of one lemon peeled very thin;
let it simmer very gently for one hour and a half, then strain it
through a hair-sieve; do not rub your soup to get it through the sieve,
or it will make it grouty; if it does not run through easily, knock your
wooden-spoon against the side of your sieve; put it in a clean stew-pan
with the head, and season it by adding to each gallon of soup half a
pint of wine; this should be Madeira, or, if you wish to darken the
colour of your soup, claret, and two table-spoonfuls of lemon-juice, see
No. 407*; let it simmer gently till the meat is tender; this may take
from half an hour to an hour: take care it is not over-done; stir it
frequently to prevent the meat sticking to the bottom of the stew-pan,
and when the meat is quite tender the soup is ready.

A head weighing twenty pounds, and ten pounds of stock meat, will make
ten quarts of excellent soup, besides the two quarts of stock you have
put by for made dishes, &c.

_Obs._ If there is more meat on the head than you wish to put in the
soup, prepare it for a pie, and, with the addition of a calf’s foot
boiled tender, it will make an excellent ragoût pie; season it with
zest, and a little minced onion, put in half a tea-cupful of stock,
cover it with puff paste, and bake it one hour: when the soup comes from
table, if there is a deal of meat and no soup, put it into a pie-dish,
season it a little, and add some little stock to it; then cover it with
paste, bake it one hour, and you have a good mock turtle pie.

This soup was eaten by the committee of taste with unanimous applause,
and they pronounced it a very satisfactory substitute[220-*] for “the
far-fetch’d and dear-bought” turtle; which is entirely indebted for its
title of “sovereign of savouriness,” to the rich soup with which it is
surrounded.

Without its paraphernalia of subtle double relishes, a “starved turtle,”
has not more intrinsic sapidity than a “fatted calf.” Friendly reader,
it is really neither half so wholesome, nor half so toothsome. See
Essence of Turtle, No. 343*, and _Obs._ to No. 493. To warm this soup,
see No. 485.

To season it, to each gallon of soup put two table-spoonfuls of
lemon-juice, see No. 407*, same of mushroom catchup (No. 439), and one
of essence of anchovy (No. 433), half a pint of wine (this should be
Madeira, or, if you wish to darken the colour of your soup, claret), a
tea-spoonful of curry powder (No. 455), or a quarter of a drachm of
Cayenne, and the peel of a lemon pared as thin as possible; let it
simmer five minutes more, take out the lemon-peel, and the soup is ready
for the tureen.

While the soup is doing, prepare for each tureen a dozen and a half of
mock turtle forcemeat balls (to make these, see No. 375 or No. 376, No.
390 to No. 396); we prefer the stuffing ordered in No. 61, and a dozen
egg balls; and put them into the tureen. Brain balls, or cakes, are a
very elegant addition, and are made by boiling the brains for ten
minutes, then putting them in cold water, and cutting them into pieces
about as big as a large nutmeg; take savoury, or lemon-thyme dried and
finely-powdered, nutmeg grated, and pepper and salt, and pound them all
together; beat up an egg, dip the brains in it, and then roll them in
this mixture, and make as much of it as possible stick to them; dip them
in the egg again, and then in finely-grated and sifted bread-crumbs; fry
them in hot fat, and send them up as a side-dish.

A veal sweetbread, prepared as in No. 89, not too much done or it will
break, cut into pieces the same size as you cut the calf’s head, and put
in the soup, just to get warm before it goes to table, is a superb
“_bonne bouche_;” and pickled tongue, stewed till very tender, and cut
into mouthfuls, is a favourite addition. We order the meat to be cut
into mouthfuls, that it may be eaten with a spoon: the knife and fork
have no business in a soup-plate.

⁂ Some of our culinary contemporaries order the haut goût of this (as
above directed, sufficiently relishing) soup to be combustibled and
bedevilled with a copious addition of anchovies, mushrooms, truffles,
morelles, curry-powder, artichoke bottoms, salmon’s head and liver, or
the soft part of oysters or lobsters, soles cut in mouthfuls, a bottle
of Madeira, a pint of brandy, &c.; and to complete their surfeiting and
burn-gullet olio, they put in such a tremendous quantity of Cayenne
pepper, that only a fire-proof palate, lined with asbestos, or indurated
by Indian diet, can endure it. See note under No. 493.

N.B. In helping this soup, the distributer of it should serve out the
meat, forcemeat, and gravy, in equal parts; however trifling or needless
this remark may appear, the writer has often suffered from the want of
such a hint being given to the soup-server, who has sometimes sent a
plate of mere gravy without meat, at others, of meat without gravy, and
sometimes scarcely any thing but forcemeat balls.

_Obs._ This is a delicious soup, within the reach of those who “eat to
live;” but if it had been composed expressly for those who only “live to
eat,” I do not know how it could have been made more agreeable: as it
is, the lover of good eating will “wish his throat a mile long, and
every inch of it palate.”

N.B. Cucumber in a side-plate is a laudable vegetable accompaniment.

_English Turtle._--(No. 248.)

See No. 502. “A-la-mode beef.”

_Curry, or Mullaga-tawny[222-*] Soup._--(No. 249.)

Cut four pounds of a breast of veal into pieces, about two inches by
one; put the trimmings into a stew-pan with two quarts of water, with
twelve corns of black pepper, and the same of allspice; when it boils,
skim it clean, and let it boil an hour and a half, then strain it off;
while it is boiling, fry of a nice brown in butter the bits of veal and
four onions; when they are done, put the broth to them; put it on the
fire; when it boils, skim it clean; let it simmer half an hour; then
mix two spoonfuls of curry, and the same of flour, with a little cold
water and a tea-spoonful of salt; add these to the soup, and simmer it
gently till the veal is quite tender, and it is ready; or bone a couple
of fowls or rabbits, and stew them in the manner directed above for the
veal, and you may put in a bruised eschalot, and some mace and ginger,
instead of black pepper and allspice.

_Obs._ Read No. 497.

_Turtle[223-*] Soup._--(No. 250.)

As it is our wish that this work should be given to the public at the
lowest possible price, the receipt for dressing a turtle is taken out,
as a professed cook is always hired for the purpose of dressing it. The
space this long receipt occupied is now filled with directions for
making useful pickles. See No. 462.

_Portable[223-+] Soup, or Glaze._--(No. 252.)

Desire the butcher to break the bones of a leg or a shin of beef, of ten
pounds weight (the fresher killed the better); put it into a soup-pot (a
digester[223-++] is the best utensil for this purpose) that will well
hold it; just cover it with cold water, and set it on the fire to heat
gradually till it nearly boils (this should be at least an hour); skim
it attentively while any scum rises; pour in a little cold water, to
throw up the scum that may remain; let it come to a boil again, and
again skim it carefully: when no more scum rises, and the broth appears
clear (put in neither roots, nor herbs, nor salt), let it boil for eight
or ten hours, and then strain it through a hair-sieve into a brown stone
pan; set the broth where it will cool quickly; put the meat into a
sieve, let it drain, make potted beef (No. 503), or it will be very
acceptable to many poor families. Next day remove every particle of fat
from the top of it, and pour it through a tamis, or fine sieve, as
quietly as possible, into a stew-pan, taking care not to let any of the
settlings at the bottom of the stone pan go into the stew-pan, which
should be of thick copper, perfectly well tinned; add a quarter of an
ounce of whole black pepper to it; let it boil briskly, with the
stew-pan uncovered, on a quick fire; if any scum rises, take it off with
a skimmer: when it begins to thicken, and is reduced to about a quart,
put it into a smaller stew-pan; set it over a gentler fire, till it is
reduced to the thickness of a very thick syrup; take care that it does
not burn, a moment’s inattention now will lose you all your labour, and
the soup will be spoiled: take a little of it out in a spoon and let it
cool; if it sets into a strong jelly, it is done enough; if it does not,
boil it a little longer till it does; have ready some little pots, such
as are used for potted meats, about an inch and a half deep, taking care
that they are quite dry; we recommend it to be kept in these pots, if it
is for home consumption (the less it is reduced, the better is the
flavour of the soup), if it be sufficiently concentrated to keep for six
months; if you wish to preserve it longer, put it into such bladders as
are used for German sausages, or if you prefer it in the form of cakes,
pour it into a dish about a quarter of an inch deep; when it is cold,
turn it out and weigh the cake, and divide it with a paste-cutter into
pieces of half an ounce and an ounce each; place them in a warm room,
and turn them frequently till they are thoroughly dried; this will take
a week or ten days; turn them twice a day; when well hardened, and kept
in a dry place, they may be preserved for several years in any climate.

This extract of meat makes excellent “_tablettes de Bouillon_,” for
those who are obliged to endure long fasting.

If the surface becomes mouldy, wipe it with a little warm water; the
mouldy taste does not penetrate the mass.

If, after several days’ drying, it does not become so hard as you wish,
put it into a bainmarie stew-pan, or milk-boiler, till it is evaporated
to the consistence you wish; or, set the pots in a cool oven, or in a
cheese-toaster, at a considerable distance from the fire: this is the
only safe way of reducing it very much, without the risk of its burning,
and acquiring an extremely disagreeable, acrid flavour, &c.

_Obs._ The uses of this concentrated essence of meat are numerous. It is
equally economical and convenient for making extempore broths enumerated
in the _Obs._ to No. 200, sauces and gravies for hashed or stewed meat,
game, or poultry, &c.

You may thicken it and flavour it as directed in No. 329; to make gravy,
sauces, &c. take double the quantity ordered for broth.

If you have time and opportunity, as there is no seasoning in the soup,
either of roots, herbs, or spice, boil an onion with or without a bit of
parsley and sweet herbs, and a few corns of allspice, or other spice, in
the water you melt the soup in, which may be flavoured with mushroom
catchup (No. 439), or eschalot wine (No. 402), essence of sweet herbs
(No. 417), savoury spice (No. 421, or No. 457), essence of celery (No.
409), &c. or zest (No. 255); these may be combined in the proportions
most agreeable to the palate of the eater, and are as portable as
portable soup, for a very small portion will flavour a pint.

The editor adds nothing to the solution of this soup, but a very little
ground black pepper and some salt.

N.B. If you are a careful manager, you need not always purchase meat on
purpose to make this; when you dress a large dinner, you can make glaze
at very small cost, by taking care of the trimmings and parings of the
meat, game, and poultry, you use: wash them well, put them into a
stew-pan, cover them with the liquor you have boiled meat in, and
proceed as in the above receipt; and see _Obs._ on No. 185.

MEM. This portable soup is a most convenient article in cookery;
especially in small families, where it will save a great deal of time
and trouble. It is also economical, for no more will be melted than is
wanted; so there is no waste.

Nine pounds of neck of beef, costing 2_s._ 7-1/2_d._ produced nine
ounces of very nice soup; the bones, when boiled, weighed ten ounces.

Half an ox-cheek, costing 1_s._ 9_d._ and weighing 14-3/4 pounds,
produced thirteen ounces; but not so firm or clear, and far inferior in
flavour to that obtained from a shin of beef.

A sheep’s head, costing 9_d._, produced three ounces and a half.

Two pounds of lean meat, from the blade-bone of beef, produced hardly an
ounce.

The addition of an ounce of gum arabic, and two ounces of isinglass, to
four ounces of the extract from a leg of beef, considerably diminished
the consistence of the mass, without adding to its bulk.

It has been thought that the portable soup which is manufactured for
sale, is partly made with ox-heels; but the experiment (No. 198) proves
this cannot be, as an ounce of the jelly from ox-heel costs 5_d._ For
the cheapest method of procuring a hard jelly, see N.B. to No. 481;
nineteen bones, costing 4-1/2_d._ produced three ounces: almost as cheap
as Salisbury glue.

A knuckle of veal, weighing 4-3/4 pounds, and costing 2_s._ 4_d._
produced five ounces.

A shin of beef, weighing nine pounds, and costing 1_s._ 10-1/2_d._
produced nine ounces of concentrated soup, sufficiently reduced to keep
for several months. After the boiling, the bones in this joint weighed
two pounds and a quarter, and the meat two pounds and a quarter.

The result of these experiments is, that the product from legs and shins
of beef was almost as large in quantity, and of much superior quality
and flavour, as that obtained from any of the other materials; the
flavour of the product from mutton, veal, &c. is comparatively insipid.

As it is difficult to obtain this ready-made of good quality, and we
could not find any proper and circumstantial directions for making it,
which, on trial, answered the purpose, and it is really a great
acquisition to the army and navy, to travellers, invalids, &c. the
editor has bestowed some time, &c. in endeavouring to learn, and to
teach, how it may be prepared in the easiest, most economical, and
perfect manner.

The ordinary selling price is from 10_s._ to 12_s._, but you may make it
according to the above receipt for 3_s._ 6_d._ per pound, _i. e._ for
2-1/2_d._ per ounce, which will make you a pint of broth.

Those who do not regard the expense, and like the flavour, may add the
lean of ham, in the proportion of a pound to eight pounds of leg of
beef.

It may also be flavoured, by adding to it, at the time you put the broth
into the smaller stew-pan, mushroom catchup, eschalot wine, essences of
spice or herbs, &c.; we prefer it quite plain; it is then ready to be
converted, in an instant, into a basin of beef tea, for an invalid, and
any flavour may be immediately communicated to it by the magazine of
taste (No. 462).

_To clarify Broth or Gravy._--(No. 252*.)

Put on the broth in a clean stew-pan; break the white and shell of an
egg, beat them together, put them into the broth, stir it with a whisk;
when it has boiled a few minutes, strain it through a tamis or a napkin.

_Obs._ A careful cook will seldom have occasion to clarify her broths,
&c. if prepared according to the directions given in No. 200.

FOOTNOTES:

[193-*] In culinary technicals, is called FIRST STOCK, or long broth; in
the French kitchen, “_le grand bouillon_.”

[193-+] A dog was fed on the richest broth, yet could not be kept alive;
while another, which had only the meat boiled to a chip (and water),
throve very well. This shows the folly of attempting to nourish men by
concentrated soups, jellies, &c.--SINCLAIR, _Code of Health_, p. 356.

If this experiment be accurate, what becomes of the theoretic visions of
those who have written about nourishing broths, &c.? The best test of
the restorative quality of food, is a small quantity of it satisfying
hunger, the strength of the pulse after it, and the length of time which
elapses before appetite returns again. According to this rule, we give
our verdict in favour of No. 19 or 24. See N.B. to No. 181.

This subject is fully discussed in _The Art of Invigorating and
Prolonging Life, by Diet_, &c. published by G. B. Whittaker, 13
Ave-Maria lane.

[194-*] Called, in some cookery books, “SECOND STOCK;” in the French
kitchen, “_jus de bœuf_.”

[194-+] A great deal of care is to be taken to watch the time of putting
in the water: if it is poured in too soon, the gravy will not have its
true flavour and colour: and if it be let alone till the meat sticks to
the pan, it will get a burnt taste.

[195-*] Truffles, morells, and mushrooms, catchups and wines, &c. are
added by those who are for the extreme of _haut goût_.

[195-+] The general rule is to put in about a pint of water to a pound
of meat, if it only simmers very gently.

[195-++] A tamis is a worsted cloth, sold at the oil shops, made on
purpose for straining sauces: the best way for using it is for two
people to twist it contrary ways. This is a better way of straining
sauce than through a sieve, and refines it much more completely.

[197-*] By this method, it is said, an ingenious cook long deceived a
large family, who were all fond of weak mutton broth. Mushroom gravy, or
catchup (No. 439), approaches the nature and flavour of meat gravy, more
than any vegetable juice, and is the best substitute for it in maigre
soups and extempore sauces, that culinary chemistry has yet produced.

[200-*] See “_L’Art de Cuisinier_,” par A. Beauvillier, Paris, 1814, p.
68. “I have learned by experience, that of all the fats that are used
for frying, the _pot top_ which is taken from the surface of the broth
and stock-pot is by far the best.”

[203-*] To make pease pottage, double the quantity. Those who often make
pease soup should have a mill, and grind the pease just before they
dress them; a less quantity will suffice, and the soup will be much
sooner made.

[204-*] If the liquor is very salt, the pease will never boil tender.
Therefore, when you make pease soup with the liquor in which salted pork
or beef has been boiled, tie up the pease in a cloth, and boil them
first for an hour in soft water.

[204-+] Half a drachm of celery-seed, pounded fine, and put into the
soup a quarter of an hour before it is finished, will flavour three
quarts.

[204-++] Some put in dried mint rubbed to fine powder; but as every body
does not like mint, it is best to send it up on a plate. See pease
powder, No. 458, essence of celery, No. 409, and Nos. 457 and 459.

[205-*] My witty predecessor, Dr. HUNTER (see _Culina_, page 97), says,
“If a proper quantity of curry-powder (No. 455) be added to pease soup,
a good soup might be made, under the title of _curry pease soup_.
Heliogabalus offered rewards for the discovery of a new dish, and the
British Parliament have given notoriety to inventions of much less
importance than ‘curry pease soup.’”

N.B. Celery, or carrots, or turnips, shredded, or cut in squares (or
Scotch barley,--in the latter case the soup must be rather thinner), or
cut into bits about an inch long, and boiled separately, and thrown into
the tureen when the soup is going to table, will give another agreeable
variety, and may be called _celery and pease soup_. Read _Obs._ to No.
214

[207-*] The French call this “_soup maigre_;” the English acceptation of
which is “_poor and watery_,” and does not at all accord with the
French, which is, soups, &c. made without meat: thus, turtle, the
richest dish that comes to an English table (if dressed without meat
gravy), is a maigre dish.

[209-*] We copied the following receipt from _The Morning Post_, Jan.
1820.

WINTER SOUP.--(No. 227.)

210 lbs of beef, fore-quarters,
90 lbs. of legs of beef,
3 bushels of best split pease,
1 bushel of flour,
12 bundles of leeks,
6 bundles of celery,
12 lbs. of salt,
11 lbs. of black pepper.

These good ingredients will make 1000 quarts of nourishing and agreeable
soup, at an expense (establishment avoided) of little less than
2-1/2_d._ per quart.

Of this, 2600 quarts a day have been delivered during the late inclement
weather, and the cessation of ordinary employment, at two stations in
the parish of Bermondsey, at one penny per quart, by which 600 families
have been daily assisted, and it thankfully received. Such a nourishment
and comfort could not have been provided by themselves separately for
fourpence a quart, if at all, and reckoning little for their fire,
nothing for their time.

[211-*] Read No. 176.

[214-*] Some lovers of _haut goût_ fry the tails before they put them
into the soup-pot.

[216-*] Fowls’ or turkeys’ heads make good and cheap soup in the same
manner.

[218-*] To this fine aromatic herb, turtle soup is much indebted for its
spicy flavour, and the high esteem it is held in by the good citizens of
London, who, I believe, are pretty generally of the same opinion as Dr.
Salmon. See his “_Household Dictionary and Essay on Cookery_,” 8vo.
London, 1710, page 34, article ‘Basil.’ “This comforts the heart, expels
melancholy, and cleanses the lungs.” See No. 307. “This plant gave the
peculiar flavour to the _original Fetter-lane sausages_.”--GRAY’S
_Supplement to the Pharmacopœia_, 8vo. 1821 p. 52.

[219-*] “Tout le monde sait que tous les ragoûts qui portent le nom de
TORTUE, sont d’origine Anglaise.”--_Manuel des Amphitryons_, 8vo. 1808,
p. 229.

[219-+] Those who do not like the trouble, &c. of making mock turtle,
may be supplied with it ready made, in high perfection, at BIRCH’S, in
Cornhill. It is not poisoned with Cayenne pepper, which the turtle and
mock turtle soup of most pastry cooks and tavern cooks is, and to that
degree, that it acts like a blister on the coats of the stomach. This
prevents our mentioning any other maker of this soup, which is often
made with cow-heel, or the mere scalp of the calf’s head, instead of the
head itself.

The following are Mr. Birch’s directions for warming this soup:--Empty
the turtle into a broad earthen vessel, to keep cool: when wanted for
table, to two quarts of soup add one gill of boiling water or veal
broth, put it over a good, clear fire, keeping it gently stirred (that
it may not burn); when it has boiled about three minutes, skim it, and
put it in the tureen.

N.B. The broth or water, and the wine, to be put into the stew-pan
before you put in the turtle.

[219-++] The reader may have remarked, that mock turtle and potted beef
always come in season together.

See _Obs._ to No. 503*. This gravy meat will make an excellent savoury
potted relish, as it will be impregnated with the flavour of the herbs
and spice that are boiled with it.

[220-*] “Many _gourmets_ and gastrologers prefer the copy to the
original: we confess that when done as it ought to be, the mock turtle
is exceedingly interesting.”--_Tabella Cibaria_, 1820, p. 30.

“Turtles often become emaciated and sickly before they reach this country,
in which case the soup would be incomparably improved by leaving out
the turtle, and substituting a good calf’s head.”--_Supplement to
Encyc. Brit. Edinburgh_, vol. iv. p. 331.

[Very fine fat turtles are brought to New-York from the West Indies;
and, during the warm weather, kept in crawls till wanted: of these they
make soup, which surpasses any mock turtle ever made. A.]

[222-*] _Mullaga-tawny_ signifies pepper water. The progress of
inexperienced peripatetic palaticians has lately been arrested by these
outlandish words being pasted on the windows of our coffee-houses. It
has, we believe, answered the “_restaurateur’s_” purpose, and often
excited JOHN BULL to walk in and taste: the more familiar name of curry
soup would, perhaps, not have had sufficient of the charms of novelty to
seduce him from his much-loved mock turtle.

It is a fashionable soup, and a great favourite with our East Indian
friends, and we give the best receipt we could procure for it.

[223-*] “The usual allowance at a turtle feast is six pounds live weight
per head: at the Spanish dinner, at the City of London Tavern, in
August, 1808, 400 guests attended, and 2500 pounds of turtle were
consumed.”--See BELL’S _Weekly Messenger_ for August 7th, 1808.

_Epicure_ QUIN used to say, it was “not safe to sit down to a turtle
feast at one of the City Halls, without a basket-hilted knife and fork.”

We recommend our friends, before encountering such a temptation, to read
our peptic precepts. Nothing is more difficult of digestion, or oftener
requires the aid of peristaltic persuaders, than the glutinous callipash
which is considered the “_bonne bouche_” of this soup. Turtle is
generally spoiled by being over-dressed.

[In Philadelphia, an excellent turtle soup is made of a small native
tortoise, called a _terrapin_, and the article _terrapin soup_. A.]

[223-+] “A pound of meat contains about an ounce of gelatinous matter;
it thence follows, that 1500 pounds of the same meat, which is the whole
weight of a bullock, would give only 94 pounds, which might be easily
contained in an earthen jar.”--Dr. HUTTON’S _Rational Recreations_, vol.
iv. p. 194.

In what degree portable or other soup be nutritious, we know not, but
refer the reader to our note under No. 185.

[223-++] This machine was invented by Dr. Denys Papin, F.R.S., about the
year 1631, as appears by his essay on “_The New Digester, or Engine for
Softening Bones_;” “by the help of which (he says) the oldest and
hardest cow-beef may be made as tender and as savoury as young and
choice meat.”

Although we have not yet found that they do what Dr. Papin says, “make
old and tough meat young and tender,” they are, however, excellent
things to make broths and soups in. Among a multitude of other admirable
excellencies obtainable by his digester, Dr. Papin, in his 9th chapter,
page 54, on the profit that a good engine may come to, says, “I have
found that an _old hat_, very bad and loosely made, having imbibed the
jelly of bones became very firm and stiff.”

GRAVIES AND SAUCES.

_Melted Butter,_

Is so simple and easy to prepare, that it is a matter of general
surprise, that what is done so often in every English kitchen, is so
seldom done right: foreigners may well say, that although we have only
one sauce for vegetables, fish, flesh, fowl, &c. we hardly ever make
that good.

It is spoiled nine times out of ten, more from idleness than from
ignorance, and rather because the cook won’t than because she can’t do
it; which can only be the case when housekeepers will not allow butter
to do it with.

Good melted butter cannot be made with mere flour and water; there must
be a full and proper proportion of butter. As it must be always on the
table, and is the foundation of almost all our English sauces, we have,

Melted butter and oysters,
---- ---- ---- parsley,
---- ---- ---- anchovies,
---- ---- ---- eggs,
---- ---- ---- shrimps,
---- ---- ---- lobsters,
---- ---- ---- capers, &c. &c. &c.

I have tried every way of making it; and I trust, at last, that I have
written a receipt, which, if the cook will carefully observe, she will
constantly succeed in giving satisfaction.

In the quantities of the various sauces I have ordered, I have had in
view the providing for a family of half-a-dozen moderate people.

Never pour sauce over meat, or even put it into the dish, however well
made, some of the company may have an antipathy to it; tastes are as
different as faces: moreover, if it is sent up separate in a boat, it
will keep hot longer, and what is left may be put by for another time,
or used for another purpose.

_Lastly._ Observe, that in ordering the proportions of meat, butter,
wine, spice, &c. in the following receipts, the proper quantity is set
down, and that a less quantity will not do; and in some instances those
palates which have been used to the extreme of _piquance_, will require
additional excitement.[228-*] If we have erred, it has been on the right
side, from an anxious wish to combine economy with elegance, and the
wholesome with the toothsome.

_Melted Butter._

Keep a pint stew-pan[228-+] for this purpose only.

Cut two ounces of butter into little bits, that it may melt more easily,
and mix more readily; put it into the stew-pan with a large tea-spoonful
(_i. e._ about three drachms) of flour, (some prefer arrow-root, or
potato starch, No. 448), and two table-spoonfuls of milk.

When thoroughly mixed, add six table-spoonfuls of water; hold it over
the fire, and shake it round every minute (all the while the same way),
till it just begins to simmer; then let it stand quietly and boil up. It
should be of the thickness of good cream.

N.B. Two table-spoonfuls of No. 439, instead of the milk, will make as
good mushroom sauce as need be, and is a superlative accompaniment to
either fish, flesh, or fowl.

_Obs._ This is the best way of preparing melted butter; milk mixes with
the butter much more easily and more intimately than water alone can be
made to do. This is of proper thickness to be mixed at table with
flavouring essences, anchovy, mushroom, or cavice, &c. If made merely
to pour over vegetables, add a little more milk to it.

N.B. If the butter oils, put a spoonful of cold water to it, and stir it
with a spoon; if it is very much oiled, it must be poured backwards and
forwards from the stew-pan to the sauce-boat till it is right again.

MEM. Melted butter made to be mixed with flavouring essences, catchups,
&c. should be of the thickness of light batter, that it may adhere to
the fish, &c.

_Thickening._--(No. 257.)

Clarified butter is best for this purpose; but if you have none ready,
put some fresh butter into a stew-pan over a slow, clear fire; when it
is melted, add fine flour sufficient to make it the thickness of paste;
stir it well together with a wooden spoon for fifteen or twenty minutes,
till it is quite smooth, and the colour of a guinea: this must be done
very gradually and patiently; if you put it over too fierce a fire to
hurry it, it will become bitter and empyreumatic: pour it into an
earthen pan, and keep it for use. It will keep good a fortnight in
summer, and longer in winter.

A large spoonful will generally be enough to thicken a quart of gravy.

_Obs._ This, in the French kitchen, is called _roux_. Be particularly
attentive in making it; if it gets any burnt smell or taste, it will
spoil every thing it is put into, see _Obs._ to No. 322. When cold, it
should be thick enough to cut out with a knife, like a solid paste.

It is a very essential article in the kitchen, and is the basis of
consistency in most made-dishes, soups, sauces, and ragoûts; if the
gravies, &c. are too thin, add this thickening, more or less, according
to the consistence you would wish them to have.

MEM. In making thickening, the less butter, and the more flour you use,
the better; they must be thoroughly worked together, and the broth, or
soup, &c. you put them to, added by degrees: take especial care to
incorporate them well together, or your sauces, &c. will taste floury,
and have a disgusting, greasy appearance: therefore, after you have
thickened your sauce, add to it some broth, or warm water, in the
proportion of two table-spoonfuls to a pint, and set it by the side of
the fire, to raise any fat, &c. that is not thoroughly incorporated with
the gravy, which you must carefully remove as it comes to the top. This
is called cleansing, or finishing the sauce.

⁂ Half an ounce of butter, and a table-spoonful of flour, are about the
proportion for a pint of sauce to make it as thick as cream.

N.B. The fat skimmings off the top of the broth pot are sometimes
substituted for butter (see No. 240); some cooks merely thicken their
soups and sauces with flour, as we have directed in No. 245, or potato
farina, No. 448.

_Clarified Butter._--(No. 259.)

Put the butter in a nice, clean stew-pan, over a very clear, slow fire;
watch it, and when it is melted, carefully skim off the buttermilk, &c.
which will swim on the top; let it stand a minute or two for the
impurities to sink to the bottom; then pour the clear butter through a
sieve into a clean basin, leaving the sediment at the bottom of the
stew-pan.

_Obs._ Butter thus purified will be as sweet as marrow, a very useful
covering for potted meats, &c., and for frying fish equal to the finest
Florence oil; for which purpose it is commonly used by Catholics, and
those whose religious tenets will not allow them to eat viands fried in
animal oil.

_Burnt Butter._--(No. 260.)

Put two ounces of fresh butter into a small frying-pan; when it becomes
a dark brown colour, add to it a table-spoonful and a half of good
vinegar, and a little pepper and salt.

_Obs._ This is used as sauce for boiled fish, or poached eggs.

_Oiled Butter._--(No. 260*.)

Put two ounces of fresh butter into a saucepan; set it at a distance
from the fire, so that it may melt gradually, till it comes to an oil;
and pour it off quietly from the dregs.

_Obs._ This will supply the place of olive oil; and by some is preferred
to it either for salads or frying.

_Parsley and Butter._--(No. 261.)

Wash some parsley very clean, and pick it carefully leaf by leaf; put a
tea-spoonful of salt into half a pint of boiling water: boil the parsley
about ten minutes; drain it on a sieve; mince it quite fine, and then
bruise it to a pulp.

The delicacy and excellence of this elegant and innocent relish depends
upon the parsley being minced very fine: put it into a sauce-boat, and
mix with it, by degrees, about half a pint of good melted butter (No.
256); only do not put so much flour to it, as the parsley will add to
its thickness: never pour parsley and butter over boiled things, but
send it up in a boat.

_Obs._ In French cookery-books this is called “melted butter, English
fashion;” and, with the addition of a slice of lemon cut into dice, a
little allspice and vinegar, “Dutch sauce.”

N.B. To preserve parsley through the winter: in May, June, or July, take
fine fresh-gathered sprigs; pick, and wash them clean; set on a stew-pan
half full of water; put a little salt in it; boil, and skim it clean,
and then put in the parsley, and let it boil for a couple of minutes;
take it out, and lay it on a sieve before the fire, that it may be dried
as quick as possible; put it by in a tin box, and keep it in a dry
place: when you want it, lay it in a basin, and cover it with warm water
a few minutes before you use it.

_Gooseberry Sauce._--(No. 263.)

Top and tail them close with a pair of scissors, and scald half a pint
of green gooseberries; drain them on a hair-sieve, and put them into
half a pint of melted butter, No. 256.

Some add grated ginger and lemon-peel, and the French, minced fennel;
others send up the gooseberries whole or mashed, without any butter, &c.

_Chervil, Basil, Tarragon, Burnet, Cress, and Butter._--(No. 264.)

This is the first time that chervil, which has so long been a favourite
with the sagacious French cook, has been introduced into an English
book. Its flavour is a strong concentration of the combined taste of
parsley and fennel, but more aromatic and agreeable than either; and is
an excellent sauce with boiled poultry or fish. Prepare it, &c. as we
have directed for parsley and butter, No. 261.

_Fennel and Butter for Mackerel, &c._--(No. 265.)

Is prepared in the same manner as we have just described in No. 261.

_Obs._ For mackerel sauce, or boiled soles, &c., some people take equal
parts of fennel and parsley; others add a sprig of mint, or a couple of
young onions minced very fine.

_Mackerel-roe Sauce._--(No. 266.)

Boil the roes of mackerel (soft roes are best); bruise them with a spoon
with the yelk of an egg, beat up with a very little pepper and salt, and
some fennel and parsley boiled and chopped very fine, mixed with almost
half a pint of thin melted butter. See No. 256.

Mushroom catchup, walnut pickle, or soy may be added.

_Egg Sauce._--(No. 267.)

This agreeable accompaniment to roasted poultry, or salted fish, is made
by putting three eggs into boiling water, and boiling them for about
twelve minutes, when they will be hard; put them into cold water till
you want them. This will make the yelks firmer, and prevent their
surface turning black, and you can cut them much neater: use only two of
the whites; cut the whites into small dice, the yelks into bits about a
quarter of an inch square; put them into a sauce-boat; pour to them half
a pint of melted butter, and stir them together.

_Obs._ The melted butter for egg sauce need not be made quite so thick
as No. 256. If you are for superlative egg sauce, pound the yelks of a
couple of eggs, and rub them with the melted butter to thicken it.

N.B. Some cooks garnish salt fish with hard-boiled eggs cut in half.

_Plum-pudding Sauce._--(No. 269.)

A glass of sherry, half a glass of brandy (or “cherry-bounce”), or
Curaçoa (No. 474), or essence of punch (Nos. 471 and 479), and two
tea-spoonfuls of pounded lump sugar (a very little grated lemon-peel is
sometimes added), in a quarter of a pint of thick melted butter: grate
nutmeg on the top.

See Pudding Catchup, No. 446.

_Anchovy Sauce._--(No. 270.)

Pound three anchovies in a mortar with a little bit of butter; rub it
through a double hair-sieve with the back of a wooden spoon, and stir it
into almost half a pint of melted butter (No. 256); or stir in a
table-spoonful of essence of anchovy, No. 433. To the above, many cooks
add lemon-juice and Cayenne.

_Obs._ Foreigners make this sauce with good brown sauce (No. 329), or
white sauce (No. 364); instead of melted butter, add to it catchup, soy,
and some of their flavoured vinegars, (as elder or tarragon), pepper and
fine spice, sweet herbs, capers, eschalots, &c. They serve it with most
roasted meats.

N.B. Keep your anchovies well covered; first tie down your jar with
bladder moistened with vinegar, and then wiped dry; tie leather over
that: when you open a jar, moisten the bladder, and it will come off
easily; as soon as you have taken out the fish, replace the coverings;
the air soon rusts and spoils anchovies. See No. 433, &c.

_Garlic Sauce._--(No. 272.)

Pound two cloves of garlic with a piece of fresh butter, about as big as
a nutmeg; rub it through a double hair-sieve, and stir it into half a
pint of melted butter, or beef gravy or make it with garlic vinegar,
Nos. 400, 401, and 402.

_Lemon Sauce._--(No. 273.)

Pare a lemon, and cut it into slices twice as thick as a half-crown
piece; divide these into dice, and put them into a quarter of a pint of
melted butter, No. 256.

_Obs._--Some cooks mince a bit of the lemon-peel (pared very thin) very
fine, and add it to the above.

_Caper Sauce._--(No. 274. See also No. 295.)

To make a quarter of a pint, take a table-spoonful of capers, and two
tea-spoonfuls of vinegar.

The present fashion of cutting capers is to mince one-third of them very
fine, and divide the others in half; put them into a quarter of a pint
of melted butter, or good thickened gravy (No. 329); stir them the same
way as you did the melted butter, or it will oil.

_Obs._--Some boil, and mince fine a few leaves of parsley, or chervil,
or tarragon, and add these to the sauce; others the juice of half a
Seville orange, or lemon.

_Mem._--Keep the caper bottle very closely corked, and do not use any of
the caper liquor: if the capers are not well covered with it, they will
immediately spoil; and it is an excellent ingredient in hashes, &c. The
Dutch use it as a fish sauce, mixing it with melted butter.

_Mock Caper Sauce._--(No. 275, or No. 295.)

Cut some pickled green pease, French beans, gherkins, or nasturtiums,
into bits the size of capers; put them into half a pint of melted
butter, with two tea-spoonfuls of lemon-juice, or nice vinegar.

_Oyster Sauce._--(No. 278.)

Choose plump and juicy natives for this purpose: don’t take them out of
their shell till you put them into the stew-pan, see _Obs._ to No. 181.

To make good oyster sauce for half a dozen hearty fish-eaters, you
cannot have less than three or four dozen oysters. Save their liquor;
strain it, and put it and them into a stew-pan: as soon as they boil,
and the fish plump, take them off the fire, and pour the contents of the
stew-pan into a sieve over a clean basin; wash the stew-pan out with hot
water, and put into it the strained liquor, with about an equal quantity
of milk, and about two ounces and a half of butter, with which you have
well rubbed a large table-spoonful of flour; give it a boil up, and pour
it through a sieve into a basin (that the sauce may be quite smooth),
and then back again into the saucepan; now shave the oysters, and (if
you have the honour of making sauce for “a committee of taste,” take
away the gristly part also) put in only the soft part of them: if they
are very large, cut them in half, and set them by the fire to keep hot:
“if they boil after, they will become hard.”

If you have not liquor enough, add a little melted butter, or cream (see
No. 388), or milk beat up with the yelk of an egg (this must not be put
in till the sauce is done). Some barbarous cooks add pepper, or mace,
the juice or peel of a lemon, horseradish, essence of anchovy, Cayenne,
&c.: plain sauces are only to taste of the ingredient from which they
derive their name.

_Obs._--It will very much heighten the flavour of this sauce to pound
the soft part of half a dozen (unboiled) oysters; rub it through a
hair-sieve, and then stir it into the sauce: this essence of oyster (and
for some palates a few grains of Cayenne) is the only addition we
recommend. See No. 441.

_Preserved Oysters._[234-*]--(No. 280.)

Open the oysters carefully, so as not to cut them except in dividing the
gristle which attaches the shells; put them into a mortar, and when you
have got as many as you can conveniently pound at once, add about two
drachms of salt to a dozen oysters; pound them, and rub them through
the back of a hair-sieve, and put them into a mortar again, with as
much flour (which has been previously thoroughly dried) as will make
them into a paste; roll it out several times, and, lastly, flour it, and
roll it out the thickness of a half-crown, and divide it into pieces
about an inch square; lay them in a Dutch oven, where they will dry so
gently as not to get burnt: turn them every half hour, and when they
begin to dry, crumble them; they will take about four hours to dry; then
pound them fine, sift them, and put them into bottles, and seal them
over.

N.B. Three dozen of natives required 7-1/2 ounces of dried flour to make
them into a paste, which then weighed 11 ounces; when dried and
powdered, 6-1/4 ounces.

To make half a pint of sauce, put one ounce of butter into a stew-pan
with three drachms of oyster powder, and six table-spoonfuls of milk;
set it on a slow fire; stir it till it boils, and season it with salt.

This powder, if made with plump, juicy natives, will abound with the
flavour of the fish; and if closely corked, and kept in a dry place,
will remain good for some time.

_Obs._--This extract is a welcome succedaneum while oysters are out of
season, and in such inland parts as seldom have any, is a valuable
addition to the list of fish sauces: it is equally good with boiled
fowl, or rump steak, and sprinkled on bread and butter makes a very good
sandwich, and is especially worthy the notice of country housekeepers,
and as a store sauce for the army and navy. See Anchovy Powder, No. 435.

_Shrimp Sauce._--(No. 283.)

Shell a pint of shrimps; pick them clean, wash them, and put them into
half a pint of good melted butter. A pint of unshelled shrimps is about
enough for four persons.

_Obs._--Some stew the heads and shells of the shrimps, (with or without
a blade of bruised mace,) for a quarter of an hour, and strain off the
liquor to melt the butter with, and add a little lemon-juice, Cayenne,
and essence of anchovy, or soy, cavice, &c.; but the flavour of the
shrimp is so delicate, that it will be overcome by any such additions.

MEM.--If your shrimps are not quite fresh, they will eat tough and
thready, as other stale fish do. See _Obs._ to No. 140.

_Lobster Sauce._--(No. 284.)

Choose a fine spawny hen lobster;[236-*] be sure it is fresh, so get a
live one if you can, (one of my culinary predecessors says, “let it be
heavy and lively,”) and boil it as No. 176; pick out the spawn and the
red coral into a mortar, add to it half an ounce of butter, pound it
quite smooth, and rub it through a hair-sieve with the back of a wooden
spoon; cut the meat of the lobster into small squares, or pull it to
pieces with a fork; put the pounded spawn into as much melted butter
(No. 256) as you think will do, and stir it together till it is
thoroughly mixed; now put to it the meat of the lobster, and warm it on
the fire; take care it does not boil, which will spoil its complexion,
and its brilliant red colour will immediately fade.

The above is a very easy and excellent manner of making this sauce.

Some use strong beef or veal gravy instead of melted butter, adding
anchovy, Cayenne, catchup, cavice, lemon-juice, or pickle, or wine, &c.

_Obs._--Save a little of the inside red coral spawn, and rub it through
a sieve (without butter): it is a very ornamental garnish to sprinkle
over fish; and if the skin is broken, (which will sometimes happen to
the most careful cook, when there is a large dinner to dress, and many
other things to attend to,) you will find it a convenient and elegant
veil, to conceal your misfortune from the prying eyes of piscivorous
_gourmands_.

N.B. Various methods have been tried to preserve lobsters, see No. 178,
and lobster spawn, for a store sauce. The live spawn may be kept some
time in strong salt and water, or in an ice-house.

The following process might, perhaps, preserve it longer. Put it into a
saucepan of boiling water, with a large spoonful of salt in it, and let
it boil quick for five minutes; then drain it on a hair-sieve; spread it
out thin on a plate, and set it in a Dutch oven till it is thoroughly
dried; grind it in a clean mill, and pack it closely in well-stopped
bottles. See also Potted Lobsters, No. 178.

_Sauce for Lobster, &c._--(No. 285. See also No. 372.)

Bruise the yelks of two hard-boiled eggs with the back of a wooden
spoon, or rather pound them in a mortar, with a tea-spoonful of water,
and the soft inside and the spawn of the lobster; rub them quite smooth,
with a tea-spoonful of made mustard, two table-spoonfuls of salad oil,
and five of vinegar; season it with a very little Cayenne pepper, and
some salt.

_Obs._--To this, elder or tarragon vinegar (No. 396), or anchovy essence
(No. 433), is occasionally added.

_Liver and Parsley Sauce_,--(No. 287.) _or Liver and Lemon Sauce._

Wash the liver (it must be perfectly fresh) of a fowl or rabbit, and
boil it five minutes in five table-spoonfuls of water; chop it fine, or
pound or bruise it in a small quantity of the liquor it was boiled in,
and rub it through a sieve: wash about one-third the bulk of parsley
leaves, put them on to boil in a little boiling water, with a
tea-spoonful of salt in it; lay it on a hair-sieve to drain, and mince
it very fine; mix it with the liver, and put it into a quarter pint of
melted butter, and warm it up; do not let it boil. _Or_,

_To make Lemon and Liver Sauce._

Pare off the rind of a lemon, or of a Seville orange, as thin as
possible, so as not to cut off any of the white with it; now cut off all
the white, and cut the lemon into slices, about as thick as a couple of
half-crowns; pick out the pips, and divide the slices into small
squares: add these, and a little of the peel minced very fine to the
liver, prepared as directed above, and put them into the melted butter,
and warm them together; but do not let them boil.

N.B. The poulterers can always let you have fresh livers, if that of the
fowl or rabbit is not good, or not large enough to make as much sauce as
you wish.

_Obs._--Some cooks, instead of pounding, mince the liver very fine (with
half as much bacon), and leave out the parsley; others add the juice of
half a lemon, and some of the peel grated, or a tea-spoonful of tarragon
or Chili vinegar, a table-spoonful of white wine, or a little beaten
mace, or nutmeg, or allspice: if you wish it a little more lively on the
palate, pound an eschalot, or a few leaves of tarragon or basil, with
anchovy, or catchup, or Cayenne.

_Liver Sauce for Fish._--(No. 288.)

Boil the liver of the fish, and pound it in a mortar with a little
flour; stir it into some broth, or some of the liquor the fish was
boiled in, or melted butter, parsley, and a few grains of Cayenne, a
little essence of anchovy (No. 433), or soy, or catchup (No. 439); give
it a boil up, and rub it through a sieve: you may add a little
lemon-juice, or lemon cut in dice.

_Celery Sauce, white._--(No. 289.)

Pick and wash two heads of nice white celery; cut it into pieces about
an inch long; stew it in a pint of water, and a tea-spoonful of salt,
till the celery is tender;[238-*] roll an ounce of butter with a
table-spoonful of flour; add this to half a pint of cream, and give it a
boil up.

N.B. See No. 409.

_Celery Sauce Purée, for boiled Turkey, Veal, Fowls, &c._ (No. 290.)

Cut small half a dozen heads of nice white celery that is quite clean,
and two onions sliced; put in a two-quart stew-pan, with a small lump of
butter; sweat them over a slow fire till quite tender, then put in two
spoonfuls of flour, half a pint of water (or beef or veal broth), salt
and pepper, and a little cream or milk; boil it a quarter of an hour,
and pass through a fine hair-sieve with the back of a spoon.

If you wish for celery sauce when celery is not in season, a quarter of
a drachm of celery-seed, or a little essence of celery (No. 409), will
impregnate half a pint of sauce with a sufficient portion of the flavour
of the vegetable.

See _Obs._ to No. 214.

_Green or Sorrel Sauce._--(No. 291.)

Wash and clean a large ponnet of sorrel; put it into a stew-pan that
will just hold it, with a bit of butter the size of an egg; cover it
close, set it over a slow fire for a quarter of an hour, pass the sorrel
with the back of a wooden spoon through a hair-sieve, season with
pepper, salt, and a small pinch of powdered sugar, make it hot, and
serve up under lamb, veal, sweetbreads, &c. &c. Cayenne, nutmeg, and
lemon-juice are sometimes added.

_Tomata, or Love-apple Sauce._--(No. 292. See also No. 443.)

Have twelve or fifteen tomatas, ripe and red; take off the stalk; cut
them in half; squeeze them just enough to get all the water and seeds
out; put them in a stew-pan with a capsicum, and two or three
table-spoonfuls of beef gravy; set them on a slow stove for an hour, or
till properly melted; then rub them through a tamis into a clean
stew-pan, with a little white pepper and salt, and let them simmer
together a few minutes.

[_Love-apple Sauce according to Ude._

Melt in a stew-pan a dozen or two of love-apples (which, before putting
in the stew-pan, cut in two, and squeeze the juice and the seeds out);
then put two eschalots, one onion, with a few bits of ham, a clove, a
little thyme, a bay-leaf, a few leaves of mace, and when melted, rub
them through a tamis. Mix a few spoonfuls of good Espagnole or Spanish
sauce, and a little salt and pepper, with this purée. Boil it for twenty
minutes, and serve up. A.]

_Mock Tomata Sauce._--(No. 293.)

The only difference between this and genuine love-apple sauce, is the
substituting the pulp of apple for that of tomata, colouring it with
turmeric, and communicating an acid flavour to it by vinegar.

_Eschalot Sauce._--(No. 294.)

Take four eschalots, and make it in the same manner as garlic sauce (No.
272). _Or_,

You may make this sauce more extemporaneously by putting two
table-spoonfuls of eschalot wine (No. 403), and a sprinkling of pepper
and salt, into (almost) half a pint of thick melted butter.

_Obs._--This is an excellent sauce for chops or steaks; many are very
fond of it with roasted or boiled meat, poultry, &c.

_Eschalot Sauce for boiled Mutton._--(No. 295.)

This is a very frequent and satisfactory substitute for “caper sauce.”

Mince four eschalots very fine, and put them into a small saucepan, with
almost half a pint of the liquor the mutton was boiled in: let them boil
up for five minutes; then put in a table-spoonful of vinegar, a quarter
tea-spoonful of pepper, a little salt, and a bit of butter (as big as a
walnut) rolled in flour; shake together till it boils. See (No. 402)
Eschalot Wine.

_Obs._--We like a little lemon-peel with eschalot; the _haut goût_ of
the latter is much ameliorated by the delicate _aroma_ of the former.

Some cooks add a little finely-chopped parsley.

_Young Onion Sauce._--(No. 296.)

Peel a pint of button onions, and put them in water till you want to put
them on to boil; put them into a stew-pan, with a quart of cold water;
let them boil till tender; they will take (according to their size and
age) from half an hour to an hour. You may put them into half a pint of
No. 307. See also No. 137.

_Onion Sauce._--(No. 297.)

Those who like the full flavour of onions only cut off the strings and
tops (without peeling off any of the skins), put them into salt and
water, and let them lie an hour; then wash them, put them into a kettle
with plenty of water, and boil them till they are tender: now skin them,
pass them through a colander, and mix a little melted butter with them.

N.B. Some mix the pulp of apples, or turnips, with the onions, others
add mustard to them.

_White Onion Sauce._--(No. 298.)

The following is a more mild and delicate[240-*] preparation: Take half
a dozen of the largest and whitest onions (the Spanish are the mildest,
but these can only be had from August to December); peel them and cut
them in half, and lay them in a pan of spring-water for a quarter of an
hour, and then boil for a quarter of an hour; and then, if you wish them
to taste very mild, pour off that water, and cover them with fresh
boiling water, and let them boil till they are tender, which will
sometimes take three-quarters of an hour longer; drain them well on a
hair-sieve; lay them on the chopping-board, and chop and bruise them;
put them into a clean saucepan, with some butter and flour, half a
tea-spoonful of salt, and some cream, or good milk; stir it till it
boils; then rub the whole through a tamis, or sieve, adding cream or
milk, to make it the consistence you wish.

_Obs._--This is the usual sauce for boiled rabbits, mutton, or tripe.
There must be plenty of it; the usual expression signifies as much, for
we say, smother them with it.

_Brown Onion Sauces, or Onion Gravy._--(No. 299.)

Peel and slice the onions (some put in an equal quantity of cucumber or
celery) into a quart stew-pan, with an ounce of butter; set it on a slow
fire, and turn the onion about till it is very lightly browned; now
gradually stir in half an ounce of flour; add a little broth, and a
little pepper and salt; boil up for a few minutes; add a table-spoonful
of claret, or port wine, and same of mushroom catchup, (you may sharpen
it with a little lemon-juice or vinegar,) and rub it through a tamis or
fine sieve.

Curry powder (No. 348) will convert this into excellent curry sauce.

N.B. If this sauce is for steaks, shred an ounce of onions, fry them a
nice brown, and put them to the sauce you have rubbed through a tamis;
or some very small, round, young silver button onions (see No. 296),
peeled and boiled tender, and put in whole when your sauce is done, will
be an acceptable addition.

_Obs._--If you have no broth, put in half a pint of water, and see No.
252; just before you give it the last boil up, add to it another
table-spoonful of mushroom catchup, or the same quantity of port wine or
good ale.

The flavour of this sauce may be varied by adding tarragon or burnet
vinegar (Nos. 396 and 399).

_Sage and Onion, or Goose-stuffing Sauce._--(No. 300.)

Chop very fine an ounce of onion and half an ounce of green sage leaves;
put them into a stew-pan with four spoonfuls of water; simmer gently for
ten minutes; then put in a tea-spoonful of pepper and salt, and one
ounce of fine bread-crumbs; mix well together; then pour to it a quarter
of a pint of (broth, or gravy, or) melted butter, stir well together,
and simmer it a few minutes longer.

_Obs._ This is a very relishing sauce for roast pork, poultry, geese, or
ducks; or green pease on maigre days.

See also Bonne Bouche for the above, No. 341.

_Green Mint Sauce._--(No. 303.)

Wash half a handful of nice, young, fresh-gathered green mint (to this
some add one-third the quantity of parsley); pick the leaves from the
stalks, mince them very fine, and put them into a sauce-boat, with a
tea-spoonful of moist sugar, and four table-spoonfuls of vinegar.

_Obs._--This is the usual accompaniment to hot lamb; and an equally
agreeable relish with cold lamb.

If green mint cannot be procured, this sauce may be made with mint
vinegar (No. 398).

_Apple Sauce._--(No. 304.)

Pare and core three good-sized baking apples; put them into a
well-tinned pint saucepan, with two table-spoonfuls of cold water; cover
the saucepan close, and set it on a trivet over a slow fire a couple of
hours before dinner (some apples will take a long time stewing, others
will be ready in a quarter of an hour): when the apples are done enough,
pour off the water, let them stand a few minutes to get dry; then beat
them up with a fork, with a bit of butter about as big as a nutmeg, and
a tea-spoonful of powdered sugar.

N.B. Some add lemon-peel, grated, or minced fine, or boil a bit with the
apples. Some are fond of apple sauce with cold pork: ask those you serve
if they desire it.

_Mushroom Sauce._--(No. 305.)

Pick and peel half a pint of mushrooms (the smaller the better); wash
them very clean, and put them into a saucepan, with half a pint of veal
gravy or milk, a little pepper and salt, and an ounce of butter rubbed
with a table-spoonful of flour; stir them together, and set them over a
gentle fire, to stew slowly till tender; skim and strain it.

_Obs._--It will be a great improvement to this, and the two following
sauces, to add to them the juice of half a dozen mushrooms, prepared the
day before, by sprinkling them with salt, the same as when you make
catchup; or add a large spoonful of good double mushroom catchup (No.
439).

See Quintessence of Mushrooms, No. 440.

N.B. Much as we love the flavour of mushrooms, we must enter our protest
against their being eaten in substance, when the morbid effects they
produce too often prove them worthy of the appellations Seneca gave
them, “voluptuous poison,” “lethal luxury,” &c.; and we caution those
who cannot refrain from indulging their palate with the seducing relish
of this deceitful fungus, to masticate it diligently.

We do not believe that mushrooms are nutritive; every one knows they are
often dangerously indigestible; therefore the rational epicure will be
content with extracting the flavour from them, which is obtained in the
utmost perfection by the process directed in No. 439.

_Mushroom Sauce, brown._--(No. 306.)

Put the mushrooms into half a pint of beef gravy (No. 186, or No. 329);
thicken with flour and butter, and proceed as above.

_Mushroom Sauce, extempore._--(No. 307.)

Proceed as directed in No. 256 to melt butter, only, instead of two
table-spoonfuls of milk, put in two of mushroom catchup (No. 439 or No.
440); or add it to thickened broth, gravy, or mock turtle soup, &c. or
put in No. 296.

_Obs._ This is a welcome relish with fish, poultry, or chops and steaks,
&c. A couple of quarts of good catchup (No. 439,) will make more good
sauce than ten times its cost of meat, &c.

Walnut catchup will give you another variety; and Ball’s cavice, which
is excellent.

_Poor Man’s Sauce._--(No. 310.)

Pick a handful of parsley leaves from the stalks, mince them very fine,
strew over a little salt; shred fine half a dozen young green onions,
add these to the parsley, and put them into a sauce-boat, with three
table-spoonfuls of oil, and five of vinegar; add some ground black
pepper and salt; stir together and send it up.

Pickled French beans or gherkins, cut fine, may be added, or a little
grated horseradish.

_Obs._--This sauce is in much esteem in France, where people of taste,
weary of rich dishes, to obtain the charm of variety, occasionally order
the fare of the peasant.

_The Spaniard’s Garlic Gravy._--(No. 311. See also No. 272.)

Slice a pound and a half of veal or beef, pepper and salt it, lay it in
a stew-pan with a couple of carrots split, and four cloves of garlic
sliced, a quarter pound of sliced ham, and a large spoonful of water;
set the stew-pan over a gentle fire, and watch when the meat begins to
stick to the pan; when it does, turn it, and let it be very well browned
(but take care it is not at all burned); then dredge it with flour, and
pour in a quart of broth, a bunch of sweet herbs, a couple of cloves
bruised, and slice in a lemon; set it on again, and let it simmer gently
for an hour and a half longer; then take off the fat, and strain the
gravy from the ingredients, by pouring it through a napkin, straining,
and pressing it very hard.

_Obs._--This, it is said, was the secret of the old Spaniard, who kept
the house called by that name on Hampstead Heath.

Those who love garlic, will find it an extremely rich relish.

_Mr. Michael Kelly’s[244-*] Sauce for boiled Tripe, Calf-head, or
Cow-heel._--(No. 311*.)

Garlic vinegar, a table-spoonful; of mustard, brown sugar, and black
pepper, a tea-spoonful each; stirred into half a pint of oiled melted
butter.

_Mr. Kelly’s Sauce piquante._

Pound a table-spoonful of capers, and one of minced parsley, as fine as
possible; then add the yelks of three hard eggs, rub them well together
with a table-spoonful of mustard; bone six anchovies, and pound them,
rub them through a hair-sieve, and mix with two table-spoonfuls of oil,
one of vinegar, one of eschalot ditto, and a few grains of Cayenne
pepper; rub all these well together in a mortar, till thoroughly
incorporated; then stir them into half a pint of good gravy, or melted
butter, and put the whole through a sieve.

_Fried Parsley._--(No. 317.)

Let it be nicely picked and washed, then put into a cloth, and swung
backwards and forwards till it is perfectly dry; put it into a pan of
hot fat, fry it quick, and have a slice ready to take it out the moment
it is crisp (in another moment it will be spoiled); put it on a sieve,
or coarse cloth, before the fire to drain.

_Crisp Parsley._--(No. 318.)

Pick and wash young parsley, shake it in a dry cloth to drain the water
from it; spread it on a sheet of clean paper in a Dutch oven before the
fire, and turn it frequently until it is quite crisp. This is a much
more easy way of preparing it than frying it, which is not seldom ill
done.

_Obs._ A very pretty garnish for lamb chops, fish, &c.

_Fried Bread Sippets._--(No. 319.)

Cut a slice of bread about a quarter of an inch thick; divide it with a
sharp knife into pieces two inches square; shape these into triangles or
crosses; put some very clean fat into an iron frying-pan: when it is
hot, put in the sippets, and fry them a delicate light brown; take them
up with a fish slice, and drain them well from fat, turning them
occasionally; this will take a quarter of an hour. Keep the pan at such
a distance from the fire that the fat may be hot enough to brown without
burning the bread; this is a requisite precaution in frying delicate
thin things.

_Obs._ These are a pretty garnish, and very welcome accompaniment and
improvement to the finest made dishes: they may also be sent up with
pease and other soups; but when intended for soups, the bread must be
cut into bits, about half an inch square.

N.B. If these are not done very delicately clean and dry, they are
uneatable.

_Fried Bread-crumbs._--(No. 320.)

Rub bread (which has been baked two days) through a wire sieve, or
colander; or you may rub them in a cloth till they are as fine as if
they had been grated and sifted; put them into a stew-pan, with a couple
of ounces of butter; place it over a moderate fire, and stir them about
with a wooden spoon till they are the colour of a guinea; spread them on
a sieve, and let them stand ten minutes to drain, turning them
frequently.

_Obs._ Fried crumbs are sent up with roasted sweetbreads, or larks,
pheasants, partridges, woodcocks, and grouse, or moor game; especially
if they have been kept long enough,

_Bread Sauce._--(No. 321.)

Put a small tea-cupful of bread-crumbs into a stew-pan, pour on it as
much milk as it will soak up, and a little more; or, instead of the
milk, take the giblets, head, neck, and legs, &c. of the poultry, &c.
and stew them, and moisten the bread with this liquor; put it on the
fire with a middling-sized onion, and a dozen berries of pepper or
allspice, or a little mace; let it boil, then stir it well, and let it
simmer till it is quite stiff, and then put to it about two
table-spoonfuls of cream or melted butter, or a little good broth; take
out the onion and pepper, and it is ready.

_Obs._ This is an excellent accompaniment to game and poultry, &c., and
a good vehicle for receiving various flavours from the Magazine of Taste
(No. 462).

_Rice Sauce._--(No. 321*.)

Steep a quarter of a pound of rice in a pint of milk, with onion,
pepper, &c. as in the last receipt; when the rice is quite tender (take
out the spice), rub it through a sieve into a clean stew-pan: if too
thick, put a little milk or cream to it.

_Obs._ This is a very delicate white sauce; and at elegant tables is
frequently served instead of bread sauce.

_Browning_,--(No. 322.)

Is a convenient article to colour those soups or sauces of which it is
supposed their deep brown complexion denotes the strength and
savouriness of the composition.

Burned sugar is also a favourite ingredient with the brewers, who use it
under the name of “essentia bina” to colour their beer: it is also
employed by the brandy-makers, in considerable quantity, to colour
brandy; to which, besides enriching its complexion, it gives that
sweetish taste, and fulness in the mouth, which custom has taught brandy
drinkers to admire, and prefer to the finest Cognac in its genuine
state.

When employed for culinary purposes, this is sometimes made with strong
gravy, or walnut catchup. Those who like a _goût_ of acid may add a
little walnut pickle.

It will hardly be told from what is commonly called “genuine Japanese
soy”[246-*] (for which it is a very good substitute). Burned treacle or
sugar, the peels of walnut, Cayenne pepper, or capsicums, or Chilies,
vinegar, garlic, and pickled herrings (especially the Dutch), Sardinias,
or sprats, appear to be the bases of almost all the sauces which now (to
use the maker’s phrase) stand unrivalled.

Although indefatigable research and experiment have put us in possession
of these compositions, it would not be quite fair to enrich the cook at
the expense of the oilman, &c.; we hope we have said enough on these
subjects to satisfy “the rational epicure.”

Put half a pound of pounded lump-sugar, and a table-spoonful of water,
into a clean iron saucepan, set it over a slow fire, and keep stirring
it with a wooden spoon till it becomes a bright brown colour, and begins
to smoke; then add to it an ounce of salt, and dilute it by degrees with
water, till it is the thickness of soy; let it boil, take off the scum,
and strain the liquor into bottles, which must be well stopped: if you
have not any of this by you, and you wish to darken the colour of your
sauces, pound a tea-spoonful of lump-sugar, and put it into an iron
spoon, with as much water as will dissolve it; hold it over a quick fire
till it becomes of a very dark brown colour; mix it with the soup, &c.
while it is hot.

_Obs._ Most of the preparations under this title are a medley of burned
butter, spices, catchup, wine, &c. We recommend the rational epicure to
be content with the natural colour of soups and sauces, which, to a
well-educated palate, are much more agreeable, without any of these
empyreumatic additions; however they may please the eye, they plague the
stomach most grievously; so “open your mouth and shut your eyes.”

For the sake of producing a pretty colour, “cheese,” “Cayenne” (No.
404), “essence of anchovy” (No. 433), &c. are frequently adulterated
with a colouring matter containing red lead!! See ACCUM _on the
Adulteration of Food_, 2d edit. 12mo. 1820.

A scientific “_homme de bouche de France_” observes: “The generality of
cooks calcine bones, till they are as black as a coal, and throw them
hissing hot into the stew-pan, to give a brown colour to their broths.
These ingredients, under the appearance of a nourishing gravy, envelope
our food with stimulating acid and corrosive poison.

“Roux, or thickening (No. 257), if not made very carefully, produces
exactly the same effect; and the juices of beef or veal, burned over a
hot fire, to give a rich colour to soup or sauces, grievously offend the
stomach, and create the most distressing indigestions.

“The judicious cook will refuse the help of these incendiary articles,
which ignorance or quackery only employ; not only at the expense of the
credit of the cook, but the health of her employers.”

N.B. The best browning is good home-made glaze (No. 252), mushroom
catchup (No. 439), or claret, or port wine. See also No. 257; or cut
meat into slices, and broil them brown, and then stew them.

_Gravy for roast Meat._--(No. 326.)

Most joints will afford sufficient trimmings, &c. to make half a pint of
plain gravy, which you may colour with a few drops of No. 322: for those
that do not, about half an hour before you think the meat will be done,
mix a salt-spoonful of salt, with a full quarter pint of boiling water;
drop this by degrees on the brown parts of the joint; set a dish under
to catch it (the meat will soon brown again); set it by; as it cools,
the fat will float on the surface; when the meat is ready, carefully
remove the fat, and warm up the gravy, and pour it into the dish.

The common method is, when the meat is in the dish you intend to send it
up in, to mix half a tea-spoonful of salt in a quarter pint of boiling
water, and to drop some of this over the corners and underside of the
meat, and to pour the rest through the hole the spit came out of: some
pierce the inferior parts of the joints with a sharp skewer.

The following receipt was given us by a very good cook: You may make
good browning for roast meat and poultry, by saving the brown bits of
roast meat or broiled; cut them small, put them into a basin, cover them
with boiling water, and put them away till next day; then put it into a
saucepan, let it boil two or three minutes, strain it through a sieve
into a basin, and put it away for use. When you want gravy for roast
meat, put two table-spoonfuls into half a pint of boiling water with a
little salt: if for roasted veal, put three table-spoonfuls into half a
pint of thin melted butter.

N.B. The gravy which comes down in the dish, the cook (if she is a good
housewife) will preserve to enrich hashes or little made dishes, &c.

_Obs._ Some culinary professors, who think nothing can be excellent that
is not extravagant, call this “Scots’ gravy;” not, I believe, intending
it, as it certainly is, a compliment to the laudable and rational
frugality of that intelligent and sober-minded people.

N.B. This gravy should be brought to table in a sauce-boat; preserve
the intrinsic gravy which flows from the meat in the Argyll.

_Gravy for boiled Meat_,--(No. 327.)

May be made with parings and trimmings; or pour from a quarter to half a
pint of the liquor in which the meat was boiled, into the dish with it,
and pierce the inferior part of the joint with a sharp skewer.

_Wow wow Sauce for stewed or bouilli Beef._--(No. 328.)

Chop some parsley-leaves very fine; quarter two or three pickled
cucumbers, or walnuts, and divide them into small squares, and set them
by ready: put into a saucepan a bit of butter as big as an egg; when it
is melted, stir to it a table-spoonful of fine flour, and about half a
pint of the broth in which the beef was boiled; add a table-spoonful of
vinegar, the like quantity of mushroom catchup, or port wine, or both,
and a tea-spoonful of made mustard; let it simmer together till it is as
thick as you wish it; put in the parsley and pickles to get warm, and
pour it over the beef; or rather send it up in a sauce-tureen.

_Obs._ If you think the above not sufficiently _piquante_, add to it
some capers, or a minced eschalot, or one or two tea-spoonfuls of
eschalot wine (No. 402), or essence of anchovy, or basil (No. 397),
elder, or tarragon (No. 396), or horseradish (No. 399*), or burnet
vinegar; or strew over the meat carrots and turnips cut into dice,
minced capers, walnuts, red cabbage, pickled cucumbers, or French beans,
&c.

_Beef-gravy Sauce_--(No. 329), _or Brown Sauce for Ragoût, Game,
Poultry, Fish, &c._

If you want gravy immediately, see No. 307, or No. 252. If you have time
enough, furnish a thick and well-tinned stew-pan with a thin slice of
fat ham or bacon, or an ounce of butter, and a middling-sized onion; on
this lay a pound of nice, juicy gravy beef, (as the object in making
gravy is to extract the nutritious succulence of the meat, it must be
beaten to comminute the containing vessels, and scored to augment the
surface to the action of the water); cover the stew-pan, and set it on a
slow fire; when the meat begins to brown, turn it about, and let it get
slightly browned (but take care it is not at all burned): then pour in a
pint and a half of boiling water; set the pan on the fire; when it
boils, carefully catch the scum, and then put in a crust of bread
toasted brown (don’t burn it), a sprig of winter savoury, or
lemon-thyme and parsley, a roll of thin-cut lemon-peel, a dozen berries
of allspice, and a dozen of black pepper; cover the stew-pan close, let
it stew very gently for about two hours, then strain it through a sieve
into a basin.

If you wish to thicken it, set a clean stew-pan over a slow fire, with
about an ounce of butter in it; when it is melted, dredge to it (by
degrees) as much flour as will dry it up, stirring them well together;
when thoroughly mixed, pour in a little of the gravy; stir it well
together, and add the remainder by degrees; set it over the fire, let it
simmer gently for fifteen or twenty minutes longer, and skim off the
fat, &c. as it rises; when it is about as thick as cream, squeeze it
through a tamis, or fine sieve, and you will have a fine, rich brown
sauce, at a very moderate expense, and without much trouble.

_Obs._ If you wish to make it still more relishing, if it is for
poultry, you may pound the liver with a bit of butter, rub it through a
sieve, and stir it into the sauce when you put in the thickening.

For a ragoût or game, add at the same time a table-spoonful of mushroom
catchup, or No. 343,[250-*] or No. 429, or a few drops of 422, the juice
of half a lemon, and a roll of the rind pared thin, a table-spoonful of
port, or other wine (claret is best), and a few grains of Cayenne
pepper; or use double the quantity of meat; or add a bit of glaze, or
portable soup (No. 252), to it.

You may vary the flavour, by sometimes adding a little basil, or burnet
wine (No. 397), tarragon vinegar (No. 396), or a wine-glass of
quintessence of mushrooms (No. 450).

See the Magazine of Taste (No. 462).

N.B. This is an excellent gravy; and at a large dinner, a pint of it
should be placed at each end of the table; you may make it equal to the
most costly _consommé_ of the Parisian kitchen.

Those families who are frequently in want of gravy, sauces, &c. (without
plenty of which no cook can support the credit of her kitchen), should
keep a stock of portable soup or glaze (No. 252): this will make gravy
immediately.

_Game Gravy._--(No. 337.)

See _Obs._ to No. 329.

_Orange-gravy Sauce, for wild Ducks, Woodcocks, Snipes, Widgeon, and
Teal, &c._--(No. 338.)

Set on a saucepan with half a pint of veal gravy (No. 192), add to it
half a dozen leaves of basil, a small onion, and a roll of orange or
lemon-peel, and let it boil up for a few minutes, and strain it off. Put
to the clear gravy the juice of a Seville orange, or lemon, half a
tea-spoonful of salt, the same of pepper, and a glass of red wine; send
it up hot. Eschalot and Cayenne may be added.

_Obs._--This is an excellent sauce for all kinds of wild water-fowl.

The common way of gashing the breast and squeezing in an orange, cools
and hardens the flesh, and compels every one to eat duck that way: some
people like wild fowl very little done, and without any sauce.

Gravies should always be sent up in a covered boat: they keep hot
longer; and it leaves it to the choice of the company to partake of them
or not,

_Bonne Bouche for Goose, Duck, or roast Pork._--(No. 341.)

Mix a tea-spoonful of made mustard, a salt-spoonful of salt, and a few
grains of Cayenne, in a large wine-glassful of claret or port
wine;[251-*] pour it into the goose by a slit in the apron just before
serving up;[251-+] or, as all the company may not like it, stir it into
a quarter of a pint of thick melted butter, or thickened gravy, and send
it up in a boat. See also Sage and Onion Sauce, No. 300. _Or_,

A favourite relish for roast pork or geese, &c. is, two ounces of leaves
of green sage, an ounce of fresh lemon-peel pared thin, same of salt,
minced eschalot, and half a drachm of Cayenne pepper, ditto of citric
acid, steeped for a fortnight in a pint of claret; shake it up well
every day; let it stand a day to settle, and decant the clear liquor;
bottle it, and cork it close; a table-spoonful or more in a quarter pint
of gravy, or melted butter.

_Robert Sauce for roast Pork, or Geese, &c._--(No. 342.)

Put an ounce of butter into a pint stew-pan: when it is melted, add to
it half an ounce of onion minced very fine; turn it with a wooden spoon
till it takes a light brown colour; then stir in a table-spoonful of
flour, a table-spoonful of mushroom catchup (with or without the like
quantity of port wine), half a pint of broth or water, and a quarter of
a tea-spoonful of pepper, the same of salt; give them a boil; then add a
tea-spoonful of mustard, and the juice of half a lemon, or one or two
tea-spoonfuls of vinegar or basil (No. 397), or tarragon (No. 396), or
burnet vinegar (No. 399).

_Obs._--The French call this “SAUCE ROBERT” (from the name of the cook
who invented it), and are very fond of it with many things, which MARY
SMITH, in the “_Complete Housekeeper_,” 8vo. 1772, p. 105, translates
ROE-BOAT-SAUCE. See _Obs._ to No. 529.

_Turtle Sauce._--(No. 343.)

Put into your stew-pan a pint of beef gravy thickened (No. 329); add to
this some of the following--essence of turtle, (No. 343*), or a
wine-glassful of Madeira, the juice and peel of half a lemon, a few
leaves of basil,[252-*] an eschalot quartered, a few grains of Cayenne
pepper, or curry powder, and a little essence of anchovy; let them
simmer together for five minutes, and strain through a tamis: you may
introduce a dozen turtle forcemeat balls. See receipt, No. 380, &c.

_Obs._--This is the sauce for boiled or hashed calf’s head, stewed veal,
or any dish you dress turtle fashion.

The far-fetched and dear-bought turtle owes its high rank on the list of
savoury _bonne bouches_ to the relishing and _piquante_ sauce that is
made for it; without, it would be as insipid as any other fish is
without sauce. See _Obs._ to No. 493.

_Essence of Turtle._--(No. 343*.)

Essence of anchovy (No. 433), one wine-glassful.
Eschalot wine (No. 402), one and a half ditto.
Basil wine (No. 397), four ditto.
Mushroom catchup (No. 439), two ditto.
Concrete lemon acid, one drachm, or some artificial lemon-juice
(No. 407*).
Lemon-peel, very thinly pared, three-quarters of an ounce.
Curry powder (No. 455), a quarter of an ounce.

Steep for a week, to get the flavour of the lemon-peel, &c.

_Obs._--This is very convenient to extemporaneously _turtlefy_ soup,
sauce, or potted meats, ragoûts, savoury patties, pies, &c. &c.

_Wine Sauce for Venison or Hare._--(No. 344.)

A quarter of a pint of claret or port wine, the same quantity of plain,
unflavoured mutton gravy (No. 347), and a table-spoonful of currant
jelly: let it just boil up, and send it to table in a sauce-boat.

_Sharp Sauce for Venison._--(No. 345.)

Put into a silver, or very clean and well-tinned saucepan, half a pint
of the best white wine vinegar, and a quarter of a pound of loaf-sugar
pounded: set it over the fire, and let it simmer gently; skim it
carefully; pour it through a tamis or fine sieve, and send it up in a
basin.

_Obs._--Some people like this better than the sweet wine sauces.

_Sweet Sauce for Venison or Hare._--(No. 346.)

Put some currant-jelly into a stew-pan; when it is melted, pour it into
a sauce-boat.

N.B. Many send it to table without melting. To make currant-jelly, see
No. 479*.

This is a more salubrious relish than either spice or salt, when the
palate protests against animal food unless its flavour be masked.
Currant-jelly is a good accompaniment to roasted or hashed meats.

_Mutton Gravy for Venison or Hare._--(No. 347.)

The best gravy for venison is that made with the trimmings of the joint:
if this is all used, and you have no undressed venison, cut a scrag of
mutton in pieces; broil it a little brown; then put it into a clean
stew-pan, with a quart of boiling water; cover it close, and let it
simmer gently for an hour: now uncover the stew-pan, and let it reduce
to three-quarters of a pint; pour it through a hair-sieve; take the fat
off, and send it up in a boat. It is only to be seasoned with a little
salt, that it may not overpower the natural flavour of the meat. You may
colour it with a very little of No. 322.

N.B. Some prefer the unseasoned beef gravy, No. 186, which you may make
in five minutes with No. 252.

THE QUEEN’S GRAVY OF MUTTON, as made by her Majesty’s “_Escuyer de
Cuisine_,” Monsieur La Montagne. “Roast a juicy leg of mutton
three-quarters; then gash it in several places, and press out the juice
by a screw-press.”--From SIR KENELM DIGBY’S _Cookery_, 18mo. London,
1669.

_Curry Sauce_,--(No. 348.)

Is made by stirring a sufficient quantity of curry stuff, (No. 455) into
gravy or melted butter, or onion sauce (Nos. 297, 298), or onion gravy
(No. 299, or No. 339).

The compositions of curry powder, and the palates of those who eat it,
vary so much, that we cannot recommend any specific quantity. The cook
must add it by degrees, tasting as she proceeds, and take care not to
put in too much.

_Obs._--The curry powder (No. 455) approximates more nearly to the best
Indian curry stuff, and is an agreeable and well-blended mixture of this
class of aromatics.

N.B. To dress curries, see No. 497.

_Essence of Ham._--(No. 351.)

Essence of ham and of beef may be purchased at the eating-houses which
cut up those joints; the former for half a crown or three shillings a
quart: it is therefore a most economical relish for made-dishes, and to
give _piquance_ to sauces, &c.

_Grill Sauce._--(No. 355.)

To half a pint of gravy (No. 329), add an ounce of fresh butter, and a
table-spoonful of flour, previously well rubbed together, the same of
mushroom or walnut catchup, two tea-spoonfuls of lemon-juice, one of
made mustard, one of minced capers, half a one of black pepper, a
quarter of a rind of a lemon grated very thin, a tea-spoonful of essence
of anchovies, and a little eschalot wine (No. 402), or a very small
piece of minced eschalot, and a little Chili vinegar (No. 405), or a few
grains of Cayenne; simmer together for a few minutes; pour a little of
it over the grill, and send up the rest in a sauce-tureen. For anchovy
toasts, No. 573, or No. 538. _Or_,

_Sauce à la Tartare._

Pound in a mortar three hard yelks of eggs; put them into a basin, and
add half a table-spoonful of made mustard, and a little pepper and salt;
pour to it by degrees, stirring it fast all the while, about two
wine-glassfuls of salad oil; stir it together till it comes to a good
thickness.

N.B. A little tarragon or chervil minced very fine, and a little
vinegar, may be added; or some of the ingredients enumerated in No. 372.

_Obs._--This from the French artist who wrote the receipt for dressing a
turtle.

_Mem._--These are _piquante_ relishes for anchovy toasts (No. 573, or
No. 538); for BROILED DEVILS, &c. “_Véritable sauce d’enfer_,” see No.
538; and a refreshing excitement for those idle palates, who are as
incessantly mumbling out “piquante, piquante,” as parrots do “pretty
Poll, pretty Poll.”

“For palates grown callous almost to disease,
Who peppers the highest is surest to please.”

GOLDSMITH.

_Sauce for Steaks, or Chops, Cutlets, &c._--(No. 356. See also No. 331.)

Take your chops out of the frying-pan; for a pound of meat keep a
table-spoonful of the fat in the pan, or put in about an ounce of
butter; put to it as much flour as will make it a paste; rub it well
together over the fire till they are a little brown; then add as much
boiling water as will reduce it to the thickness of good cream, and a
table-spoonful of mushroom or walnut catchup, or pickle, or browning
(No. 322, or No. 449); let it boil together a few minutes, and pour it
through a sieve to the steaks, &c.

_Obs._--To the above is sometimes added a sliced onion, or a minced
eschalot, with a table-spoonful of port wine, or a little eschalot wine
(Nos. 402, 423, or 135). Garnish with finely-scraped horseradish, or
pickled walnuts, gherkins, &c. Some beef-eaters like chopped eschalots
in one saucer, and horseradish grated in vinegar, in another. Broiled
mushrooms are favourite relishes to beef-steaks.

_Sauce Piquante for cold Meat, Game, Poultry, Fish, &c. or
Salads._--(No. 359. See also No. 372, and Cucumber Vinegar, Nos. 399 and
453.)

Pound in a mortar the yelks of two eggs that have been boiled hard (No.
547), with a mustard-spoonful of made mustard, and a little pepper and
salt; add two table-spoonfuls of salad oil; mix well, and then add three
table-spoonfuls of vinegar; rub it up well till it is quite smooth, and
pass it through a tamis or sieve.

_Obs._--To the above, some add an anchovy, or a table-spoonful of
mushroom catchup, or walnut pickle, some finely-chopped parsley, grated
horseradish, or young onions minced, or burnet (No. 399), horseradish
(No. 399*, or No. 402), or tarragon, or elder vinegar (No. 396), &c.,
and Cayenne or minced pickles, capers, &c. This is a _piquante_ relish
for lobsters, crabs, cold fish, &c.

_Sauce for Hashes of Mutton or Beef._--(No. 360. See also Nos. 451, 485,
and to make Plain Hash, No. 486.)

Unless you are quite sure you perfectly understand the palate of those
you are working for, show those who are to eat the hash this receipt,
and beg of them to direct you how they wish it seasoned.

Half the number of the ingredients enumerated will be more than enough:
but as it is a receipt so often wanted we have given variety. See also
No. 486.

To prepare the meat, see No. 484.

Chop the bones and fragments of the joint, &c., and put them into a
stew-pan; cover them with boiling water, six berries of black pepper,
the same of allspice, a small bundle of parsley, half a head of celery
cut in pieces, and a small sprig of savoury, or lemon-thyme, or sweet
marjoram; cover up, and let it simmer gently for half an hour.

Slice half an ounce of onion, and put it into a stew-pan with an ounce
of butter; fry it over a sharp fire for about a couple of minutes, till
it takes a little colour; then stir in as much flour as will make it a
stiff paste, and by degrees mix with it the gravy you have made from the
bones, &c.; let it boil very gently for about a quarter of an hour, till
it is the consistence of cream; strain it through a tamis or sieve into
a basin; put it back into the stew-pan: to season it, see No. 451, or
cut in a few pickled onions, or walnuts, or a couple of gherkins, and a
table-spoonful of mushroom catchup, or walnut or other pickle liquor; or
some capers, and caper liquor; or a table-spoonful of ale; or a little
eschalot, or tarragon vinegar; cover the bottom of the dish with sippets
of bread (that they may become savoury reservoirs of gravy), which some
toast and cut into triangles. You may garnish it with fried bread
sippets (No. 319).

N.B. To hash meat in perfection, it should be laid in this gravy only
just long enough to get properly warm through.

_Obs._ If any of the gravy that was sent up with, or ran from the joint
when it was roasted, be left, it will be a great improvement to the
hash.

If you wish to make mock venison, instead of the onion, put in two or
three cloves, a table-spoonful of currant jelly, and the same quantity
of claret or port wine, instead of the catchup.

You may make a curry hash by adding some of No. 455.

N.B. A pint of No. 329 is an excellent gravy to warm up either meat or
poultry.

_Sauce for hashed or minced Veal._--(No. 361. See No. 511.)

Take the bones of cold roast or boiled veal, dredge them well with
flour, and put them into a stew-pan with a pint and a half of broth or
water, a small onion, a little grated or finely-minced lemon-peel, or
the peel of a quarter of a small lemon, pared as thin as possible, half
a tea-spoonful of salt, and a blade of pounded mace; to thicken it, rub
a table-spoonful of flour into half an ounce of butter; stir it into the
broth, and set it on the fire, and let it boil very gently for about
half an hour; strain through a tamis or sieve, and it is ready to put to
the veal to warm up; which is to be done by placing the stew-pan by the
side of the fire. Squeeze in half a lemon, and cover the bottom of the
dish with toasted bread sippets cut into triangles, and garnish the dish
with slices of ham or bacon. See Nos. 526 and 527.

_Bechamel, by English Cooks commonly called White Sauce._ (No. 364.)

Cut in square pieces, half an inch thick, two pounds of lean veal, half
a pound of lean ham; melt in a stew-pan two ounces of butter; when
melted, let the whole simmer until it is ready to catch at the bottom
(it requires great attention, as, if it happen to catch at the bottom of
the stew-pan, it will spoil the look of your sauce); then add to it
three table-spoonfuls of flour; when well mixed, add to it three pints
of broth or water (pour a little at a time, that the thickening be
smooth); stir it until it boil; put the stew-pan on the corner of the
stove to boil gently for two hours; season it with four cloves, one
onion, twelve pepper-corns, a blade of mace, a few mushrooms and a fagot
made of parsley, a sprig of thyme, and a bay-leaf. Let the sauce reduce
to a quart, skim the fat off, and strain it through a tamis cloth.

To make a bechamel sauce, add to a quart of the above a pint of good
cream; stir it until it is reduced to a good thickness; a few mushrooms
give a good flavour to that sauce; strain it through a tamis cloth.

_Obs._ The above was given us by a French artist.

_A more economical Method of making a Pint of White Sauce._--(No.
364--2.)

Put equal parts of broth and milk into a stew-pan with an onion and a
blade of mace; set it on the fire to boil ten minutes; have ready and
rub together on a plate an ounce of flour and butter; put it into the
stew-pan; stir it well till it boils up; then stand it near the fire or
stove, stirring it every now and then till it becomes quite smooth; then
strain it through a sieve into a basin; put it back into the stew-pan;
season it with salt and the juice of a small lemon; beat up the yelks of
two eggs well with about three table-spoonfuls of milk, strain it
through a sieve into your sauce, stir it well and keep it near the fire,
but be sure and do not let it boil, for it will curdle.

_Obs._ A convenient veil for boiled fowls, &c. whose complexions are not
inviting.

_Mem._ With the assistance of the Magazine of Taste (No. 462) you may
give this sauce a variety of flavours.

_Obs._ Bechamel implies a thick white sauce, approaching to a batter,
and takes its name from a wealthy French Marquis, _maître d’hôtel de
Louis XIV._, and famous for his patronage of “_les Officiers de
Bouche_,” who have immortalized him, by calling by his name this
delicate composition.

Most of the French sauces take their name from the person whose palate
they first pleased, as “_à la Maintenon_;” or from some famous cook who
invented them, as “Sauce Robert,” “_à la Montizeur_,” &c.

We have in the English kitchen, our “Argyll” for gravy, and the little
“Sandwich,” “_monumentum ære perennius_.”

----“And thus MONTEITH
Has, by one vessel, saved his name from death.”

KING’S _Art of Cookery_.

_Poivrade Sauce._--(No. 365.)

This, as its title tells us, is a sauce of French extraction. The
following receipt is from “_La Cuisinière Bourgeoise_,” page 408.

“Put a bit of butter as big as an egg into a stew-pan with two or three
bits of onion, carrot, and turnip, cut in slices, two eschalots, two
cloves, a bay-leaf, thyme, and basil; keep turning them in the pan till
they get a little colour; shake in some flour, and add a glass of red
wine, a glass of water, a spoonful of vinegar, and a little pepper and
salt; boil half an hour; skim and strain it.”

_Mustard in a minute._--(No. 369.)

Mix very gradually, and rub together in a mortar, an ounce of flour of
mustard, with three table-spoonfuls of milk (cream is better), half a
tea-spoonful of salt, and the same of sugar; rub them well together till
quite smooth.

_Obs._ Mustard made in this manner is not at all bitter, and is
therefore instantly ready for the table.

N.B. It has been said that flour of mustard is sometimes adulterated
with common flour, &c. &c.

_Mustard._--(No. 370.)

Mix (by degrees, by rubbing together in a mortar) the best Durham flour
of mustard, with vinegar, white wine, or cold water, in which scraped
horseradish has been boiled; rub it well together for at least ten
minutes, till it is perfectly smooth; it will keep in a stone jar
closely stopped, for a fortnight: only put as much into the mustard-pot
as will be used in a day or two.

The ready-made mustard prepared at the oil shops is mixed with about
one-fourth part salt: this is done to preserve it, if it is to be kept
long; otherwise, by all means, omit it. The best way of eating salt is
in substance.

⁂ See also recipe No. 427.

_Obs._ Mustard is the best of all the stimulants that are employed to
give energy to the digestive organs. It was in high favour with our
forefathers; in the _Northumberland Household Book_ for 1512, p. 18, is
an order for an annual supply of 160 gallons of mustard.

Some opulent epicures mix it with sherry or Madeira wine, or distilled
or flavoured vinegar, instead of horseradish water.

The French flavour their mustard with Champaigne and other wines, or
with vinegar flavoured with capers, anchovies, tarragon, elder, basil,
burnet, garlic, eschalot, or celery, see No. 395 to No. 402: warming it
with Cayenne, or the various spices; sweet, savoury, fine herbs,
truffles, catchup, &c. &c., and seem to consider mustard merely as a
vehicle of flavours.

N.B. In Mons. Maille et Aclocque’s catalogue of Parisian “_Bono Bons_,”
there is a list of twenty-eight differently flavoured mustards.

_Salt_,--(No. 371.)

Is (“_aliorum condimentorum condimentum_,” as Plutarch calls it,) sauce
for sauce.

Common salt is more relishing than basket salt; it should be prepared
for the table by drying it in a Dutch oven before the fire; then put it
on a clean paper, and roll it with a rolling pin; if you pound it in a
mortar till it is quite fine, it will look as well as basket salt.
Malden salt is still more _piquante_.

⁂ Select for table-use the lumps of salt.

_Obs._ Your salt-box must have a close cover, and be kept in a dry
place.

_Salad mixture._--(No. 372. See also Nos. 138* and 453.)

Endeavour to have your salad herbs as fresh as possible; if you suspect
they are not “morning gathered,” they will be much refreshed by lying an
hour or two in spring-water; then carefully wash and pick them, and trim
off all the worm-eaten, slimy, cankered, dry leaves; and, after washing,
let them remain a while in the colander to drain: lastly, swing them
gently in a clean napkin: when properly picked and cut, arrange them in
the salad dish, mix the sauce in a soup plate, and put it into an
ingredient bottle,[260-*] or pour it down the side of the salad dish,
and don’t stir it up till the mouths are ready for it.

If the herbs be young, fresh gathered, trimmed neatly, and drained dry,
and the sauce-maker ponders patiently over the following directions, he
cannot fail obtaining the fame of being a very accomplished
salad-dresser.

Boil a couple of eggs for twelve minutes, and put them in a basin of
cold water for a few minutes; the yelks must be quite cold and hard, or
they will not incorporate with the ingredients. Rub them through a
sieve with a wooden spoon, and mix them with a table-spoonful of water,
or fine double cream; then add two table-spoonfuls of oil or melted
butter; when these are well mixed, add, by degrees, a tea-spoonful of
salt, or powdered lump sugar, and the same of made mustard: when these
are smoothly united, add very gradually three table-spoonfuls of
vinegar; rub it with the other ingredients till thoroughly incorporated
with them; cut up the white of the egg, and garnish the top of the salad
with it. Let the sauce remain at the bottom of the bowl, and do not stir
up the salad till it is to be eaten: we recommend the eaters to be
mindful of the duty of mastication, without the due performance of
which, all undressed vegetables are troublesome company for the
principal viscera, and some are even dangerously indigestible.

_Boiled Salad._

This is best compounded of boiled or baked onions (if Portugal the
better), some baked beet-root, cauliflower, or broccoli, and boiled
celery and French beans, or any of these articles, with the common salad
dressing; added to this, to give it an enticing appearance, and to give
some of the crispness and freshness so pleasant in salad, a small
quantity of raw endive, or lettuce and chervil, or burnet, strewed on
the top: this is by far more wholesome than the raw salad, and is much
eaten when put on the table.

N.B. The above sauce is equally good with cold meat, cold fish, or for
cucumbers, celery, radishes, &c. and all the other vegetables that are
sent to table undressed: to the above, a little minced onion is
generally an acceptable addition.

_Obs._ Salad is a very compound dish with our neighbours the French, who
always add to the mixture above, black pepper, and sometimes savoury
spice.

The Italians mince the white meat of chickens into this sauce.

The Dutch, cold boiled turbot or lobster; or add to it a spoonful of
grated parmesan or old Cheshire cheese, or mince very fine a little
tarragon, or chervil, burnet, or young onion, celery, or pickled
gherkins, &c.

Joan Cromwell’s grand salad was composed of equal parts of almonds,
raisins, capers, pickled cucumbers, shrimps, and boiled turnips.

This mixture is sometimes made with cream, oiled butter (see No. 260*),
or some good jelly of meat (which many prefer to the finest Florence
oil), and flavoured with salad mixture (No. 453), basil (No. 397), or
cress or celery vinegar (No. 397*), horseradish vinegar (No. 399*),
cucumber vinegar (No. 399), and _Obs._ to No. 116 of the Appendix;
tarragon, or elder vinegar, essence of celery (No. 409), walnut or lemon
pickle, or a slice of lemon cut into dice, and essence of anchovy (No.
433).

_Forcemeat Stuffings._--(No. 373.)

Forcemeat is now considered an indispensable accompaniment to most made
dishes, and when composed with good taste, gives additional spirit and
relish to even that “sovereign of savouriness,” turtle soup.

It is also sent up in patties, and for stuffing of veal, game, poultry,
&c.

The ingredients should be so proportioned, that no one flavour
predominates.

To give the same stuffing for veal, hare, &c. argues a poverty of
invention; with a little contrivance, you may make as great a variety as
you have dishes.

I have given receipts for some of the most favourite compositions, and a
table of materials, a glance at which will enable the ingenious cook to
make an infinite variety of combinations: the first column containing
the spirit, the second the substance of them.

The poignancy of forcemeat should be proportioned to the savouriness of
the viands, to which it is intended to give an additional zest. Some
dishes require a very delicately flavoured forcemeat, for others, it
must be full and high seasoned. What would be _piquante_ in a turkey,
would be insipid with turtle.

Tastes are so different, and the praise the cook receives will depend so
much on her pleasing the palate of those she works for, that all her
sagacity must be on the alert, to produce the flavours to which her
employers are partial. See pages 45 and 46.

Most people have an acquired and peculiar taste in stuffings, &c., and
what exactly pleases one, seldom is precisely what another considers the
most agreeable: and after all the contrivance of a pains-taking
palatician, to combine her “_hauts goûts_” in the most harmonious
proportions,

“The very dish one likes the best,
Is acid, or insipid, to the rest.”

Custom is all in all in matters of taste: it is not that one person is
naturally fond of this or that, and another naturally averse to it; but
that one is used to it, and another is not.

The consistency of forcemeats is rather a difficult thing to manage;
they are almost always either too light or too heavy.

Take care to pound it till perfectly smooth, and that all the
ingredients are thoroughly incorporated.

Forcemeat-balls must not be larger than a small nutmeg. If they are for
brown sauce, flour and fry them; if for white, put them into boiling
water, and boil them for three minutes: the latter are by far the most
delicate.

N.B. If not of sufficient stiffness, it falls to pieces, and makes soup,
&c. grouty and very unsightly.

Sweetbreads and tongues are the favourite materials for forcemeat.

MATERIALS USED FOR FORCEMEAT, STUFFINGS, &C.

SPIRIT.

Common thyme. }
Lemon-thyme. }
Orange-thyme. }
Sweet marjoram. }
Summer and }
Winter savoury. } Fresh and green,
Sage. } or in dried
Tarragon (No. 396). } powder (No. 461).
Chervil. }
Burnet (No. 399). }
Basil (No. 397). }
Bay-leaf. }
Truffles and }
Morells. }
Mushroom powder (No. 439).
Leeks.
Onions.
Eschalot (No. 402).
Garlic.
Lemon-peel (see Nos. 407 and 408).
Shrimps (No. 175)
Prawns.
Crabs.
Lobsters (Nos. 176 and 178).
Oysters.
Anchovy (No. 433).
Dressed TONGUE (see N.B. to No. 373).
Ham.
Bacon.
Black or white pepper.
Allspice.
Mace.
Cinnamon
Ginger.
Nutmegs.
Cloves.
Capers and pickles (minced or pounded)
Savoury powder (No. 465).
Soup herb powder (No. 467).
Curry powder (No. 455).
Cayenne (No. 404).
Zest (No. 255).

SUBSTANCES.

Flour.
Crumbs of bread.
Parsley (see N.B. to No. 261).
Spinage.
Boiled onion.
Mashed potatoes (No. 106).
Yelks of hard eggs (No. 574).
Mutton.
Beef.
Veal suet,[263-*] or marrow.
Calf’s udder, or brains.
Parboiled sweetbread.
Veal, minced and pounded, and
Potted meats, &c. (No. 503.)

For liquids, you have meat gravy, lemon-juice, syrup of lemons (Nos. 391
and 477), essence of anchovy (No. 433), the various vegetable essences
(No. 407), mushroom catchup (No. 439), and the whites and yelks of eggs,
wines, and the essence of spices.

_Stuffing for Veal, roast Turkey, Fowl, &c._--(No. 374.)

Mince a quarter of a pound of beef suet (beef marrow is better), the
same weight of bread-crumbs, two drachms of parsley-leaves, a drachm and
a half of sweet marjoram or lemon-thyme, and the same of grated
lemon-peel and onion chopped as fine as possible, a little pepper and
salt; pound thoroughly together with the yelk and white of two eggs, and
secure it in the veal with a skewer, or sew it in with a bit of thread.

Make some of it into balls or sausages; flour them, and boil, or fry
them, and send them up as a garnish, or in a side dish, with roast
poultry, veal, or cutlets, &c.

N.B. This is about the quantity for a turkey poult: a very large turkey
will take nearly twice as much. To the above may be added an ounce of
dressed ham; or use equal parts of the above stuffing and pork sausage
meat (No. 87.) pounded well together.

_Obs._ Good stuffing has always been considered a _chef-d’œuvre_ in
cookery: it has given immortality to

“Poor _Roger Fowler_, who’d a generous mind,
Nor would submit to have his hand confin’d,
But aimed at all,--yet never could excel
In any thing but _stuffing_ of his veal.”

KING’S _Art of Cookery_, p. 113.

_Veal Forcemeat._--(No. 375.)

Of undressed lean veal (after you have scraped it quite fine, and free
from skin and sinews), two ounces, the same quantity of beef or veal
suet, and the same of bread-crumbs; chop fine two drachms of parsley,
one of lemon-peel, one of sweet herbs, one of onion, and half a drachm
of mace, or allspice, beaten to fine powder; pound all together in a
mortar; break into it the yelk and white of an egg; rub it all up well
together, and season it with a little pepper and salt.

_Obs._--This may be made more savoury by the addition of cold boiled
pickled tongue, anchovy, eschalot, Cayenne or curry powder, &c.

_Stuffing for Turkeys or Fowls, &c._--(No. 377.)

Take the foregoing composition for the roast turkey, or add the soft
part of a dozen oysters to it: an anchovy, or a little grated ham, or
tongue, if you like it, is still more relishing. Fill the craw of the
fowl, &c.; but do not cram it so as to disfigure its shape.

Pork sausage meat is sometimes used to stuff turkeys and fowls; or
fried, and sent up as a garnish.

_Goose or Duck Stuffing._--(No. 378.)

Chop very fine about two ounces of onion, of green sage-leaves about an
ounce (both unboiled), four ounces of bread-crumbs, a bit of butter
about as big as a walnut, &c., the yelk and white of an egg, and a
little pepper and salt: some add to this a minced apple.

For another, see roasted goose and duck (Nos. 59 and 61), which latter
we like as forcemeat-balls for mock turtle; then add a little
lemon-peel, and warm it with Cayenne.

_Stuffing for Hare._--(No. 379.)

Two ounces of beef suet chopped fine; three ounces of fine bread-crumbs;
parsley, a drachm; eschalot, half a drachm; a drachm of marjoram,
lemon-thyme, or winter savoury; a drachm of grated lemon-peel, and the
same of pepper and salt: mix these with the white and yelk of an egg; do
not make it thin--it must be of cohesive consistence: if your stuffing
is not stiff enough, it will be good for nothing: put it in the hare,
and sew it up.

⁂ If the liver is quite sound, you may parboil it, and mince it very
fine, and add it to the above.

_Forcemeat-Balls for Turtle, Mock Turtle, or Made Dishes._ (No. 380. See
also No. 375.)

Pound some veal in a marble mortar; rub it through a sieve with as much
of the udder as you have veal, or about a third of the quantity of
butter: put some bread-crumbs into a stew-pan, moisten them with milk,
add a little chopped parsley and eschalot, rub them well together in a
mortar till they form a smooth paste; put it through a sieve, and, when
cold, pound, and mix all together, with the yelks of three eggs boiled
hard; season it with salt, pepper, and curry powder, or Cayenne; add to
it the yelks of two raw eggs; rub it well together, and make small
balls: ten minutes before your soup is ready, put them in.

_Egg Balls._--(No. 381.)

Boil four eggs for ten minutes, and put them into cold water; when they
are quite cold, put the yelks into a mortar with the yelk of a raw egg,
a tea-spoonful of flour, same of chopped parsley, as much salt as will
lie on a shilling, and a little black pepper, or Cayenne; rub them well
together, roll them into small balls (as they swell in boiling); boil
them a couple of minutes.

_Brain Balls._

See No. 247, or beat up the brains of a calf in the way we have above
directed the egg.

_Curry Balls for Mock Turtle, Veal, Poultry, Made Dishes, &c._ (No.
382.)

Are made with bread-crumbs, the yelk of an egg boiled hard, and a bit of
fresh butter about half as big, beaten together in a mortar, and
seasoned with curry powder (No. 455): make and prepare small balls, as
directed in No. 381.

_Fish Forcemeat._--(No. 383.)

Take two ounces of either turbot, sole, lobster, shrimps, or oysters;
free from skin, put it in a mortar with two ounces of fresh butter, one
ounce of bread-crumbs, the yelk of two eggs boiled-hard, and a little
eschalot, grated lemon-peel, and parsley, minced very fine; then pound
it well till it is thoroughly mixed and quite smooth; season it with
salt and Cayenne to your taste; break in the yelk and white of one egg,
rub it well together, and it is ready for use. Oysters parboiled and
minced fine, and an anchovy, may be added.

_Zest Balls._--(No. 386. See No. 255.)

Prepared in the same way as No. 381.

_Orange or Lemon-peel, to mix with Stuffing._--(No. 387.)

Peel a Seville orange, or lemon, very thin, taking off only the fine
yellow rind (without any of the white); pound it in a mortar with a bit
of lump sugar; rub it well with the peel; by degrees add a little of the
forcemeat it is to be mixed with: when it is well ground and blended
with this, mix it with the whole: there is no other way of incorporating
it so well.

Forcemeats, &c. are frequently spoiled by the insufficient mixing of the
ingredients.

_Clouted or Clotted Cream._--(No. 388.)

The milk which is put into the pans one morning stands till the next;
then set the pan on a hot hearth, or in a copper tray[267-*] half full
of water; put this over a stove; in from ten to twenty minutes,
according to the quantity of the milk and the size of the pan, it will
be done enough; the sign of which is, that bladders rise on its surface;
this denotes that it is near boiling, which it must by no means do; and
it must be instantly removed from the fire, and placed in the dairy till
the next morning, when the fine cream is thrown up, and is ready for the
table, or for butter, into which it is soon converted by stirring it
with the hand.

N.B. This receipt we have not proved.

_Raspberry Vinegar._--(No. 390.)

The best way to make this, is to pour three pints of the best white wine
vinegar on a pint and a half of fresh-gathered red raspberries in a
stone jar, or China bowl (neither glazed earthenware, nor any metallic
vessel, must be used); the next day strain the liquor over a like
quantity of fresh raspberries; and the day following do the same. Then
drain off the liquor without pressing, and pass it through a jelly bag
(previously wetted with plain vinegar) into a stone jar, with a pound of
pounded lump sugar to each pint. When the sugar is dissolved, stir it
up, cover down the jar, and set it in a saucepan of water, and keep it
boiling for an hour, taking off the scum; add to each pint a glass of
brandy, and bottle it: mixed in about eight parts of water, it is a very
refreshing and delightful summer drink. An excellent cooling beverage to
assuage thirst in ardent fevers, colds, and inflammatory complaints, &c.
and is agreeable to most palates.

See No. 479*.

N.B. We have not proved this receipt.

_Syrup of Lemons._--(No. 391.)

The best season for lemons is from November to March. Put a pint of
fresh lemon-juice to a pound and three-quarters of lump sugar; dissolve
it by a gentle heat; skim it till the surface is quite clear; add an
ounce of thin-cut lemon-peel; let them simmer (very gently) together for
a few minutes, and run it through a flannel. When cold, bottle and cork
it closely, and keep it in a cool place. _Or_,

Dissolve a quarter of an ounce (avoirdupois) of citric, _i. e._
crystallized lemon acid, in a pint of clarified syrup (No. 475); flavour
it with the peel, with No. 408, or dissolve the acid in equal parts of
simple syrup (No. 475), and syrup of lemon-peel, as made No. 393.

_The Justice’s Orange Syrup for Punch or Puddings._--(No. 392.)

Squeeze the oranges, and strain the juice from the pulp into a large
pot; boil it up with a pound and a half of fine sugar to each point of
juice; skim it well; let it stand till cold; then bottle it, and cork it
well.

_Obs._--This makes a fine, soft, mellow-flavoured punch; and, added to
melted butter, is a good relish to puddings.

_Syrup of Orange or Lemon-peel._--(No. 393.)

Of fresh outer rind of Seville orange or lemon-peel, three ounces,
apothecaries’ weight; boiling water a pint and a half; infuse them for a
night in a close vessel; then strain the liquor: let it stand to settle;
and having poured it off clear from the sediment, dissolve in it two
pounds of double-refined loaf sugar, and make it into a syrup with a
gentle heat.

_Obs._--In making this syrup, if the sugar be dissolved in the infusion
with as gentle a heat as possible, to prevent the exhalation of the
volatile parts of the peel, this syrup will possess a great share of the
fine flavour of the orange, or lemon-peel.

_Vinegar for Salads._--(No. 395.)

“Take of tarragon, savoury, chives, eschalots, three ounces each; a
handful of the tops of mint and balm, all dry and pounded; put into a
wide-mouthed bottle, with a gallon of best vinegar; cork it close, set
it in the sun, and in a fortnight strain off, and squeeze the herbs; let
it stand a day to settle, and then strain it through a filtering bag.”
From PARMENTIER’S _Art de faire les Vinaigres_, 8vo. 1805, p. 205.

_Tarragon Vinegar._--(No. 396.)

This is a very agreeable addition to soups, salad sauce (No. 455), and
to mix mustard (No. 370). Fill a wide-mouthed bottle with fresh-gathered
tarragon-leaves, _i. e._ between midsummer and Michaelmas (which should
be gathered on a dry day, just before it flowers), and pick the leaves
off the stalks, and dry them a little before the fire; cover them with
the best vinegar; let them steep fourteen days; then strain through a
flannel jelly bag till it is fine; then pour it into half-pint bottles;
cork them carefully, and keep them in a dry place.

_Obs._ You may prepare elder-flowers and herbs in the same manner; elder
and tarragon are those in most general use in this country.

Our neighbours, the French, prepare vinegars flavoured with celery,
cucumbers, capsicums, garlic, eschalot, onion, capers, chervil,
cress-seed, burnet, truffles, Seville orange-peel, ginger, &c.; in
short, they impregnate them with almost every herb, fruit, flower, and
spice, separately, and in innumerable combinations.

Messrs. Maille et Aclocque, _Vinaigriers à Paris_, sell sixty-five sorts
of variously flavoured vinegar, and twenty-eight different sorts of
mustard.

_Basil Vinegar or Wine._--(No. 397.)

Sweet basil is in full perfection about the middle of August. Fill a
wide-mouthed bottle with the fresh green leaves of basil (these give
much finer and more flavour than the dried), and cover them with
vinegar, or wine, and let them steep for ten days: if you wish a very
strong essence, strain the liquor, put it on some fresh leaves, and let
them steep fourteen days more.

_Obs._ This is a very agreeable addition to sauces, soups, and to the
mixture usually made for salads. See Nos. 372 and 453.

It is a secret the makers of mock turtle may thank us for telling; a
table-spoonful put in when the soup is finished will impregnate a tureen
of soup with the basil and acid flavours, at very small cost, when fresh
basil and lemons are extravagantly dear.

The flavour of the other sweet and savoury herbs, celery, &c. may be
procured, and preserved in the same manner (No. 409, or No. 417), by
infusing them in wine or vinegar.

_Cress Vinegar._--(No. 397*.)

Dry and pound half an ounce of cress-seed (such as is sown in the garden
with mustard), pour upon it a quart of the best vinegar, let it steep
ten days, shaking it up every day.

_Obs._ This is very strongly flavoured with cress; and for salads and
cold meats, &c. it is a great favourite with many: the quart of sauce
costs only a half-penny more than the vinegar.

Celery vinegar is made in the same manner.

The crystal vinegar (No. 407*), which is, we believe, the pyroligneous
acid, is the best for receiving flavours, having scarcely any of its
own.

_Green Mint Vinegar_,--(No. 398.)

Is made precisely in the same manner, and with the same proportions as
in No. 397.

_Obs._--In the early season of housed lamb, green mint is sometimes not
to be got; the above is then a welcome substitute.

_Burnet or Cucumber Vinegar._--(No. 399.)

This is made in precisely the same manner as directed in No. 397. The
flavour of burnet resembles cucumber so exactly, that when infused in
vinegar, the nicest palate would pronounce it to be cucumber.

_Obs._--This is a very favourite relish with cold meat, salads, &c.

Burnet is in best season from midsummer to Michaelmas.

_Horseradish Vinegar._--(No. 399*.)

Horseradish is in highest perfection about November.

Pour a quart of best vinegar on three ounces of scraped horseradish, an
ounce of minced eschalot, and one drachm of Cayenne; let it stand a
week, and you will have an excellent relish for cold beef, salads, &c.
costing scarcely any thing.

N.B. A portion of black pepper and mustard, celery or cress-seed, may be
added to the above.

_Obs._--Horseradish powder (No. 458*).

_Garlic Vinegar._--(No. 400.)

Garlic is ready for this purpose from midsummer to Michaelmas.

Peel and chop two ounces of garlic, pour on them a quart of white wine
vinegar, stop the jar close, and let it steep ten days, shaking it well
every day; then pour off the clear liquor into small bottles.

_Obs._--The cook must be careful not to use too much of this; a few
drops of it will give a pint of gravy a sufficient smack of the garlic,
the flavour of which, when slight and well blended, is one of the finest
we have; when used in excess, it is the most offensive.

The best way to use garlic, is to send up some of this vinegar in a
cruet, and let the company flavour their own sauce as they like.

N.B. The most elegant preparation of the onion tribe is the eschalot
wine, No. 402.

_Eschalot Vinegar_,--(No. 401.)

Is made in the same manner, and the cook should never be without one of
these useful auxiliaries; they cost scarcely any thing but the little
trouble of making, and will save a great deal of trouble in flavouring
soups and sauces with a taste of onion.

N.B. Eschalots are in high perfection during July, August, and
September.

_Eschalot Wine._--(No. 402.)

Peel, mince, and pound in a mortar, three ounces of eschalots, and
infuse them in a pint of sherry for ten days; then pour off the clear
liquor on three ounces more eschalots, and let the wine stand on them
ten days longer.

_Obs._--This is rather the most expensive, but infinitely the most
elegant preparation of eschalot, and imparts the onion flavour to soups
and sauces, for chops, steaks, or boiled meats, hashes, &c. more
agreeably than any: it does not leave any unpleasant taste in the mouth,
or to the breath; nor repeat, as almost all other preparations of
garlic, onion, &c. do.

N.B. An ounce of scraped horseradish may be added to the above, and a
little thin-cut lemon-peel, or a few drops of No. 408.

_Camp Vinegar._--(No. 403.)

Cayenne pepper, one drachm, avoirdupois weight.
Soy, two table-spoonfuls.
Walnut catchup, four ditto.
Six anchovies chopped.
A small clove of garlic, minced fine.

Steep all for a month in a pint of the best vinegar, frequently shaking
the bottle: strain through a tamis, and keep it in small bottles, corked
as tightly as possible.

_Cayenne Pepper._--(No. 404.)

Mr. Accum has informed the public (see his book on Adulterations) that
from some specimens that came direct to him from India, and others
obtained from respectable oil shops in London, he has extracted lead!

“Foreign Cayenne pepper is an indiscriminate mixture of the powder of
the dried pods of many species of capsicums, especially of the bird
pepper, which is the hottest of all. As it comes to us from the West
Indies, it changes the infusion of turnsole to a beautiful green,
probably owing to the salt, which is always added to it, and the red
oxide of lead, with which it is said to be adulterated.” DUNCAN’S _New
Edinburgh Dispensary_, 1819, Article _Capsicum_, p. 81.

The Indian Cayenne is prepared in a very careless manner, and often
looks as if the pods had lain till they were decayed, before they were
dried: this accounts for the dirty brown appearance it commonly has. If
properly dried as soon as gathered, it will be of a clear red colour: to
give it the complexion of that made with good fresh-gathered capsicums
or Chilies, some annatto, or other vegetable red colouring matter, is
pounded with it: this, Mr. A. assures us, is frequently adulterated with
Indian red, _i. e._ “red lead!”

When Cayenne is pounded, it is mixed with a considerable portion of
salt, to prevent its flying up and hurting the eyes: this might be
avoided by grinding it in a mill, which may easily be made close enough,
especially if it be passed through a second time, and then sifted
through a fine drum-headed sieve, to produce as fine a powder as can be
obtained by pounding; however, our English chilies may be pounded in a
deep mortar without any danger.

The flavour of the Chilies is very superior to that of the capsicums,
and will be good in proportion as they are dried as soon as possible,
taking care they are not burned.

Take away the stalks, and put the pods into a colander; set it before
the fire; they will take full twelve hours to dry, then put them into a
mortar, with one-fourth their weight of salt, and pound them, and rub
them till they are fine as possible, and put them into a well-stopped
bottle.

N.B. We advise those who are fond of Cayenne not to think it too much
trouble to make it of English Chilies; there is no other way of being
sure it is genuine, and they will obtain a pepper of much finer flavour,
without half the heat of the foreign.

A hundred large Chilies, costing only two shillings, will produce you
about two ounces of Cayenne, so it is as cheap as the commonest Cayenne.

Four hundred Chilies, when the stems were taken off, weighed half a
pound; and when dried, produced a quarter of a pound of Cayenne pepper.

_Essence of Cayenne._--(No. 405.)

Put half an ounce of Cayenne pepper (No. 404) into half a pint of brandy
or wine; let it steep for a fortnight, and then pour off the clear
liquor.

This is nearly equal to fresh Chili juice.

_Obs._--This or the Chili vinegar (No. 405*,) is extremely convenient
for the extempore seasoning and finishing of soups, sauces, &c., its
flavour being instantly and equally diffused. Cayenne pepper varies so
much in strength, that it is impossible to season soup any other way to
the precise point of _piquance_.

_Chili Vinegar._--(No. 405*.)

This is commonly made with the foreign bird pepper; but you will obtain
a much finer flavour from infusing fifty fresh red English Chilies (cut
in half, or pounded) in a pint of the best vinegar for a fortnight, or a
quarter of an ounce of Cayenne pepper, No. 404.

_Obs._--Many people cannot eat fish without the addition of an acid, and
Cayenne pepper: to such palates this will be an agreeable relish.

_Chili, or Cayenne Wine._--(No. 406.)

Pound and steep fifty fresh red Chilies, or a quarter of an ounce of
Cayenne pepper, in half a pint of brandy, white wine, or claret, for
fourteen days.

_Obs._--This is a “_bonne bouche_” for the lovers of Cayenne, of which
it takes up a larger proportion of its flavour than of its fire; which
being instantly diffused, it is a very useful auxiliary to warm and
finish soups and sauces, &c.

_Essence of Lemon-peel._--(No. 407.)

Wash and brush clean the lemons; let them get perfectly dry: take a lump
of loaf sugar, and rub them till all the yellow rind is taken up by the
sugar: scrape off the surface of the sugar into a preserving pot, and
press it hard down; cover it very close, and it will keep for some
time.

In the same way you may get the essence of Seville orange-peel.

_Obs._ This method of procuring and preserving the flavour of
lemon-peel, by making an _oleo-saccharum_, is far superior to the common
practice of paring off the rind, or grating it, and pounding, or mixing
that with sugar: by this process you obtain the whole of the fine,
fragrant, essential oil, in which is contained the flavour.

_Artificial Lemon-juice._--(No. 407*.)

If you add a drachm of lump sugar, pounded, and six drops of No. 408, to
three ounces of crystal vinegar, which is the name given to the
pyroligneous vinegar, you will have an excellent substitute for
lemon-juice--for fish sauces and soups, and many other culinary
purposes. The flavour of the lemon may also be communicated to the
vinegar by infusing some lemon-peel in it.

N.B. The pyroligneous vinegar is perfectly free from all flavour, save
that of the pure acid; therefore, it is a very valuable menstruum for
receiving impregnations from various flavouring materials.

The pyroligneous acid seems likely to produce quite a revolution in the
process of curing hams, herrings, &c. &c. See TILLOCH’S _Philosophical
Magazine_, 1821, No. 173, p. 12.

_Quintessence of Lemon-peel._--(No. 408.)

Best oil of lemon, one drachm, strongest rectified spirit, two ounces,
introduced by degrees till the spirit kills, and completely mixes with
the oil. This elegant preparation possesses all the delightful fragrance
and flavour of the freshest lemon-peel.

_Obs._ A few drops on the sugar you make punch with will instantly
impregnate it with as much flavour as the troublesome and tedious method
of grating the rind, or rubbing the sugar on it.

It will be found a superlative substitute for fresh lemon-peel for every
purpose that it is used for: blanc mange, jellies, custards, ice, negus,
lemonade, and pies and puddings, stuffings, soups, sauces, ragoûts, &c.