*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 49155 ***

MARION HARLAND’S COOKERY FOR BEGINNERS




    MARION HARLAND’S
    COOKERY FOR BEGINNERS

    A SERIES OF FAMILIAR LESSONS FOR
    YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS

    BY THE

    _Author of “Common Sense in the Household,” “The
    Dinner Year Book,” “The Cottage Kitchen,” etc._

    BOSTON

    D. LOTHROP COMPANY

    PUBLISHERS




    COPYRIGHT, 1884,
    BY
    D. LOTHROP & CO.


    COPYRIGHT, 1893,
    BY
    D. LOTHROP COMPANY.




CONTENTS.


     1. HOME-MADE YEAST AND THE FIRST LOAF                     7
     2. BREAD SPONGE AND BREAKFAST BREADS                     16
     3. BREAKFAST BREADS                                      28
     4. OTHER BREAKFAST BREADS                                37
     5. EGGS                                                  42
     6. BROILED MEATS                                         54
     7. FRIED MEATS                                           60
     8. WHAT TO DO WITH LEFT-OVERS                            69
     9. OTHER DINNER DISHES                                   81
    10. MEATS                                                 94
    11. VEGETABLES                                           107
    12. DESSERTS                                             118
    13. CAKE-MAKING                                          131
    14. JELLIES, CREAMS, AND OTHER FANCY DISHES FOR
            TEA AND LUNCHEON, OR SUPPER-PARTIES              143




COOKERY FOR BEGINNERS.




1

HOME-MADE YEAST AND THE FIRST LOAF.


THE question is often asked, “What is the most important branch of
culinary knowledge? What the chief requisite in supplying the table
well and healthfully?”

The experienced housewife cannot hesitate as to the reply.

Beyond doubt, the ability to make _good_ bread. No one need rise hungry
from a table on which is plenty of light, sweet bread, white or brown,
and good butter. For the latter item many of us are dependent upon
market and grocery. It is hardly just to hold the cook responsible for
imperfections in this regard when she has bought the best articles
these supply. She is culpable if she fails to see that her board
furnishes three times a day a bountiful allowance of what I hope
none of my friends in council will ever call “_healthy_ bread.” The
eater may be made or kept healthy by the consumption of nutritious,
wholesome, healthful or healthsome food; but the most careful
philologists do not speak of edibles as subject to such diseases as may
afflict living creatures.

While it is always wise to use none except the best flour in
bread-making, it is true that skilful management of an inferior brand
will often produce better loaves and biscuits than careless treatment
of fine family flour. I say this that none may be discouraged. So
far as my observation and experience extend, nothing can remedy the
disadvantage of indifferent yeast.

Let me earnestly advise, therefore, as the foundation of successful
baking, the manufacture of


HOME-MADE YEAST.

    Four large mealy potatoes, peeled.

    Two quarts of cold water.

    One teacupful of loose, dry hops, _or_, half a cake of
      the pressed hops put up by the Shakers and sold by
      druggists.

    Two tablespoonfuls of white sugar.

    Four tablespoonfuls of flour.

    Half a cupful lively yeast, _or_ a yeast-cake dissolved
      in a little warm water.

Put water, potatoes, and the hops tied up in a bit of coarse muslin,
over the fire in a clean pot or kettle. Boil until the potatoes break
apart when a fork is stuck into them. Unless they are very old or very
new, this should be half an hour after the boiling begins. Take out
the potatoes, leaving water and hops on the range where they will boil
slowly. Mash the potatoes smooth in a wooden tray or large crockery
bowl, with a wooden spoon, and work in the sugar. When these are
well-mixed wet the paste with three tablespoonfuls of the boiling
hop-tea, then stir in a tablespoonful of flour. Do this four times,
beating and stirring to get rid of lumps. When the flour is all in,
add, a little at a time, the rest of the hop-tea, squeezing the bag
hard to get every drop. Throw the boiled hops away, and wash the cloth
or bag well before putting it aside for the next yeast-making.

Strain the thick, grayish liquid through a colander into a bowl and let
it get almost but not quite cold before you stir in the half cupful of
made yeast that is to “raise” it. Set aside out of the dust and wind,
put a sieve or throw a bit of mosquito netting over it, and leave it to
work. It is a good plan to set the bowl in a large pan or dish to catch
what may run over the sides. When the yeast ceases to sing or hiss, and
the bubbles no longer rise and break on the surface, the fermentation
is complete. Four or five hours in July, seven in January, usually
bring this to pass. Pour the yeast into glass fruit-jars with close
covers, or stone-jars fitted with corks, or common bottles, tying
the corks down with twine. Keep in a _cool_, dark place, and do not
open except to draw off the quantity needed for a baking. In the
refrigerator it will keep good for a month. Shake up the bottle before
pouring out what you want into a cup.

The creamy, foamy product thus obtained is quite another thing from
the dark, bitter stuff pedled from one kitchen door to another as
brewer’s or baker’s yeast, unfit for use unless strained, and then too
frequently “unprofitable” because “stale” and “flat.”


THE FIRST LOAF.

    One quart and a cupful of sifted flour (a half pint cup)

    One even teaspoonful dry salt.

    Two full cups of blood-warm water.

    Five tablespoonfuls of yeast (good ones).

Sift the flour and salt together into a wooden or stoneware bowl. Make
a hole in the middle and pour in the yeast, then a cupful of the water.
With clean hands begin to work down the flour into the liquid, and
as it stiffens add the rest of the water. When the dough is all wet
dust your fingers with dry flour, and rub off the paste into the bowl.
Scrape the sides of this, dust your fingers again, and make all the
dough into a lump or ball. Dredge your pastry or bread-board well with
flour, put the dough upon it and sift flour lightly over it. Ask your
mother or some experienced person whether or not it is of the right
consistency. There is so much difference in various brands of flour
that only practice can teach one when the dough is just right. _Do not
get it too stiff._ Add flour very cautiously even should it stick to
your fingers. Knead the bread for fifteen minutes—not so fast as to
tire yourself out of breath, but steadily and hard, working it away
from you all the time, turning the ball over and around so as to reach
every part of the mass. It should leave the board without stickiness
at the end of this time, be smooth, firm, and elastic. Strike it hard
with a tight fist, and if the dent thus made fills up at once, you have
kneaded it sufficiently.

Sprinkle your bread-bowl with flour, put the dough in the bottom, sift
flour lightly over the top, cover with a clean thick cloth and set,
in cold weather, in a moderately warm place, in summer, out of the
draught, but away from the fire and sun. It should be light in four
hours in warm weather, in six in winter. If you wish to have it for
breakfast, set at bedtime, and get up early to work it over for the
second rising.

This must not be done until the dough has swollen immensely, and
cracked over the top like “crazed” china. Flour the board and knead as
before, now for ten minutes. Grease two “brick” or round bread-pans
well with sweet lard or butter, make out the dough in two oblong or
round loaves, and pat these down in the pans to fit the corners. Prick
the tops with a sharp fork, cover with a clean cloth, and let them
stand for an hour before putting them into the oven.

The oven must be steady, but not too hot. You should be able to hold
your bare arm in it while you count twenty regularly. Should the bread
rise very fast at first, lay stout paper over the top to prevent it
from browning before the heart is done. Do not allow the stove or range
to be filled with fresh coal or wood while your bread is in the oven,
or it will be “slack-baked.” Should you need to increase the heat, put
in a stick or two of wood to get up a brisk blaze. Do not open the oven
for ten or twelve minutes after the bread goes in, and very seldom
afterward. A peep should suffice to see how it is getting on. If the
loaf rises higher at the back or at one side than in front or on the
other side, turn the tin quickly, and do not jar it, or it will “fall”
into heavy streaks. If the oven is right, your loaves should be done in
_about_ thirty-five minutes.

Set the loaves up on the edge of one end, leaning against the wall or
an upright board, that the air may dry the bottom, throw a dry cloth
over them and leave them to cool. When quite cold wrap in a clean thick
cloth and keep in a tin box or stone crock.

In this, as in other first attempts, let me warn you against being
disheartened by failure, partial or total. It would be far more strange
were you to accomplish perfection in one, or in half a dozen lessons,
than if your early efforts should be only moderately successful.

See that your yeast is lively and not sour, the flour good and dry,
then follow directions implicitly, and I think I can engage that the
result will not mortify you.




2

BREAD SPONGE AND BREAKFAST BREADS.


BREAD raised with what is known to bakers as a “sponge,” requires more
time and a trifle more work than the simpler form for which I have just
already given directions. But it keeps fresh longer, is softer and more
nutritious, and a second-rate brand of flour thus treated produces a
better loaf than when mixed up with yeast and water only. Sponge-making
is, therefore, an important if not an essential accomplishment in a
cook, be she novice or veteran.


Bread Sponge.


    Three potatoes of fair size, peeled and boiled mealy.

    Five tablespoonfuls of yeast.

    One tablespoonful of white sugar.

    One tablespoonful of butter.

    Three cups of lukewarm water in which the potatoes were
      boiled—strained through a coarse cloth.

    One heaping cup of sifted flour.

Put the potatoes into a large bowl or tray and mash them to powder with
a potato beetle, or a wooden spoon. While still hot, mix in the sugar
and butter, beating all to a lumpless cream.

Add a _few_ spoonfuls at a time, the potato-water alternately with the
flour by the handful, beating the batter smooth as you go on until
all of the liquid and flour has gone in. Beat hard one minute before
pouring in the yeast. In hot weather, it is well to stir into the
yeast a bit of soda no larger than a grain of corn already wet up in a
teaspoonful of boiling water.

Now whip up the batter with a wooden spoon for another minute, and the
sponge is made.

Throw a cloth over the bowl and set by for five or six hours to rise.
If you intend to bake in the forenoon, make the sponge at bedtime. If
in the afternoon, early in the morning.

When the sponge is light sift a quart and a cup of flour into a bowl or
tray with two teaspoonfuls of salt. Into a hollow, like a crater in the
middle of the flour, empty your sponge-bowl, and work the flour down
into it. Wash out the bowl with a little lukewarm water and add this to
the dough. If it should prove too soft, work in, cautiously, a little
more flour. If too stiff, warm water, a spoonful at a time until you
can handle the paste easily. _The danger is in getting it too stiff._

Now, knead and set for risings first and second, as you have already
been instructed. This sponge will be found especially useful in making


Graham Bread.

    One quart of Graham flour, one cup of white flour.

    One half cup of Indian meal.

    One half cup of molasses.

    Two teaspoonfuls of salt.

    Soda, the size of a pea.

    Half the quantity of sponge given in preceding receipt.

    Warm water for rinsing bowl—about half a cup.

Put the brown or Graham flour _unsifted_ into the bread-bowl. Sift
into it white flour, meal and salt, and stir up well while dry. Into
the “crater” dug out in the middle, pour the sponge, warm water, the
molasses, and soda dissolved in hot water. Knead as you would white
bread, and set aside for the rising. It will not swell so fast as the
white, so give yourself more time for making it.

When light, knead well and long; make into two loaves, then put into
well-greased pans and leave for an hour, or until it becomes more than
twice the original size of the dough.

Take care that it does not burn in baking. The molasses renders it
liable to scorching. The oven must be steady, but not so hot as for
white bread, nor will the Graham bread be done quite so soon as that
made of bolted flour. Turn the pans once while baking, moving them as
gently as possible. If rudely shaken or jarred, there will be heavy
streaks in the loaves.

Graham bread is wholesome and sweet, and ought to be eaten frequently
in every family, particularly by young people whose bones and teeth are
in forming.

The phosphates which the process of “bolting” removes to a large extent
from white flour, go directly to the manufacture of bone, and these
also tend to nourish and strengthen the brain.


Tea-Rolls.

After mixing your bread in the morning either with sponge or with
yeast, divide the kneaded dough into two portions. Mould one into a
round ball, and set aside for a loaf as already directed. Make a hole
in the middle of the other batch and pour into it a tablespoonful of
butter, just melted, but not hot. Close the dough over it, dust your
hands and kneading-board with flour and work in the shortening until
the dough is elastic and ceases to be sticky. Put it into a floured
bowl, cover with a cloth and set away out of draught and undue heat,
for three hours. Knead it again, then, and wait upon its rising for
another three hours. The dough should be as soft as can be handled.

When it is light for the second time flour your board, rubbing in the
flour and blowing lightly away what does not adhere to the surface.
Toss the lump dough upon it and knead thoroughly for five minutes.
Flour a rolling-pin and roll the dough into a sheet not more than half
an inch thick. Cut this into round cakes with a biscuit-cutter or a
sharp-edged tumbler and fold, not quite in the middle, in the form of
turnovers, pinching the corners of the fold pretty hard to hinder the
flap of dough from flying up as the rising proceeds. Rub the bottom and
sides of a baking-pan with sweet lard or butter. Do this with a bit of
clean soft rag or tissue-paper, visiting every corner of the pan, but
not leaving thick layers and streaks of grease after it. Arrange the
rolls in regular rows in the pan about a quarter of an inch apart.

Cover with a cloth and set nearer the fire than you dared trust the
dough, and let them rise for an hour. Peep under the cloth two or three
times to see whether they rise evenly, and turn the pan around once
that all may be equally exposed to the heat.

When the time is up and the rolls are puffy and promising, set them in
a pretty quick oven and bake half an hour, turning the pan once in this
time, and covering with clean—never printed—paper, should they brown
too fast. Break the rolls apart from one another and eat warm. They are
also good cold, and if the directions be followed implicitly, very good
always.


Graham Rolls

Are made by treating the dough mixed for Graham bread as above and
following the foregoing receipt in every section, but allowing more
time for rising and baking. They are even better when cold than hot.


Breakfast Biscuit.

    Two cups of fresh milk slightly warmed.

    One quart and a cup of flour sifted.

    Five tablespoonfuls of yeast.

    One even tablespoonful of white sugar.

    One even teaspoonful of salt.

    Bit of soda as large as a pea, dissolved in hot water.

    One tablespoonful of butter, just melted, not hot.

    Yolk of one egg beaten light.

Sift the flour, salt and sugar into a bowl, hollow the heap in the
centre and pour in the milk, working down the flour into the liquid
with a spoon or your hands until it is thoroughly melted. Into a second
hollow pour the yeast and knead thoroughly for fifteen minutes. Wrap
bowl and biscuit in a thick cloth and set to rise where it will neither
become chilled nor sour over night. (Study the temperature in different
parts of the kitchen and kitchen closets to the end of finding the best
places for raising dough and sponge.)

Do all this at bedtime. Early in the morning turn out the dough upon
a floured board, work it for a minute into manageable shape; drill
several finger-holes in it and fill them with the melted butter, the
dissolved soda and the beaten yolk of egg. Pinch the dough hard to stop
the mouths of these cavities, and knead for ten minutes, carefully at
first, lest the liquids should be wasted, and more boldly when they are
absorbed by the paste. Roll out into a sheet half an inch thick with a
floured rolling-pin; cut into round cakes, set these closely together
in a well-greased pan; prick each with a fork and let them rise near
the fire for half an hour, covered with a light cloth.

Bake from twenty to twenty-five minutes in a quick oven, turning the
pan around once, quickly and lightly. Break apart from one another and
pile on a plate, throwing a clean doily or a small napkin over them.
Break open at table. Hot rolls and muffins should never be cut.

One word with regard to getting up early in order to give dough a
chance for the second rising. It is _not_ a wholesome practice for any
woman—least of all a young girl to be out of bed two hours before she
eats her breakfast. Studying upon an empty stomach provokes dyspepsia
and injures the eyes. Active exercise in like circumstances tempts
debility and disease. Yet our bread and rolls must be looked after
at the proper time. Have yourself called on biscuit mornings an hour
earlier than usual. Rise, wash face and hands, rinse the mouth out and
brush back the hair. Put on stockings and slippers, such underclothing
as may be needed to prevent cold, a wrapper and the kitchen apron.
Cover your hair entirely with a handkerchief or sweeping cap. Before
beginning operations down-stairs eat a half-slice of dry bread or a
biscuit. You will not relish it, but take it all the same to appease
the empty, discontented stomach. Having made out your rolls and tucked
them up snugly for the final rise, return to your chamber for a
comfortable bath and toilet. When habited for the day in all except the
outer gown, collar, etc., slip on the wrapper again and run down to
put the biscuits in the oven. Unless it is _too_ hot, they will get no
harm while you finish dressing in ten minutes, just in season to turn
the pan.

From the beginning of your apprenticeship in housewifery, learn how to
“dovetail” your duties neatly into one another. A wise accommodation of
parts and angles, and compactness in the adjustment of “must-be-dones”
are better than mere personal strength in the accomplishment of such
tasks as fall to women to perform. Master these, and do not let them
master you. Weave the little duties in and under and among what seem
to be the greater. While your bread is taking a three hours’ rise, you
are free in body and mind for other things. The grand secret of keeping
house well and without worry, lies in the art of packing and fitting
different kinds of work and in picking up the minutes. Other things
besides rising dough get on quite as well without your standing by to
watch them.




3

BREAKFAST BREADS.


UNDER this head may be classed muffins, griddle-cakes, crumpets, corn
bread, Sally Lunn, quick biscuits, and a dozen other varieties of warm
bread suitable for breakfast and tea. They furnish a very pleasant
variety in the daily bill of fare, and are extremely popular.

Nor are they unwholesome if properly made and cooked, and eaten by well
people. To weak and impaired digestive organs all kinds of warm bread
are hurtful.


English Muffins.

    One quart of sifted flour.

    Two cups of lukewarm water.

    Half a cup of yeast.

    One tablespoonful of butter melted, but not hot. One
      teaspoonful of salt sifted with the flour.

Sift the flour and salt into a bowl, make a hole in the middle and pour
in yeast and warm water. Stir down the flour gradually into the liquid,
and when all is in, beat hard with a wooden spoon. Should the mixture
be too stiff for this, add a little more water. It should be about half
as thick as bread-dough. Beat for five minutes and set aside to rise,
with a cloth thrown over the bowl, in a moderately warm corner.

Early in the morning stir the melted butter into the dough, beat hard
for two minutes, and leave for half an hour in the covered bowl in a
warm place—such as on a stool near the fire—turning it several times.

Grease muffin-rings well with sweet lard, arrange them upon a greased
griddle set over the fire and already warmed (not really hot), fill
about half-way to the top with batter, and bake quickly. When the dough
fills the rings and begins to look firm on the top, slip a knife under
one and peep at the under side. If it is delicately browned, turn the
rings over with a spatula or cake-turner. This must be done quickly and
dexterously, so as not to spill the batter.

When quite done, wrap a thick cloth about your fingers, take up the
muffin-rings one by one; pass a sharp knife around the inside of each,
to loosen the muffin, and shake it out upon a hot plate. Pile them up
neatly and cover with a clean napkin. These muffins must be broken, not
cut open, and buttered while hot.

The English split, toast and butter cold muffins.


Crumpets.

    Two cups of lukewarm milk.

    Two thirds of a cup of lukewarm water.

    One quart of sifted flour.

    One tablespoonful of white sugar.

    Half a teaspoonful of salt.

    Two tablespoonfuls of melted butter.

    Half a cupful of yeast.

    Soda the size of a pea, dissolved in a teaspoonful of
      boiling water.

Mix milk, yeast, water, sugar and salted flour as directed in former
receipt. Beat hard, and set to rise over night. In the morning work in
the butter and soda, beat up for one whole minute until the mixture is
light throughout, and half-fill greased patty-pans with it. Set these
in a baking-pan, cover with a cloth, and let them stand in a warm place
fifteen minutes before putting them into a steady oven. They should be
done in from twelve to fifteen minutes if the oven is right. If they
brown too fast, cover them with paper.


Quick Muffins.

    One quart of sifted flour.

    One tablespoonful of salt.

    Three cups lukewarm milk.

    Two eggs.

    One tablespoonful of melted butter.

    Two teaspoonfuls of baking powder.

Sift flour, baking-powder and salt _twice_ through the sieve, to make
sure these are well mixed together. Beat the eggs very light. (By
all means have a Dover Egg-Beater for this purpose. It whips eggs to
a lovely froth with less labor and in less time than any other yet
invented.)

Stir melted butter, eggs and milk together in a large bowl, and to this
add the flour, a cupful at a time, stirring very quickly and lightly
down toward the middle of the bowl. Beat hard _up_ one minute at the
last, to break flour-lumps; half-fill greased patty-pans with the
batter, and then bake in a quick oven.

Turn out and eat while puffy and hot.


Sally Lunn. (The “Genuine Article.”)

    One quart of sifted flour.

    One cup of warm milk.

    One of warm water.

    Four large tablespoonfuls of yeast.

    Two tablespoonfuls of melted butter.

    Four eggs.

    One tablespoonful of salt sifted with the flour.

    Soda the size of a pea, dissolved in a teaspoonful of
      boiling water.

Beat the eggs steadily four minutes. Have ready in a bowl the warmed
milk, water, melted butter and soda. Into this stir the salted flour,
cupful by cupful, until all is in. Beat smooth from lumps and add the
yeast. The eggs should now be whipped three minutes with the “Dover,”
in a cool bowl. They will not froth in a hot or warm one. When light,
beat well into the batter, and then beat _up_ hard for a full minute.
A wooden spoon is best for this purpose. Butter a tin cake-mould well
in every part, and put in the batter. If there is more than enough
to half-fill the mould have two prepared, that the contents may not
overflow in rising.

Set in a moderately warm place for six hours at least, and then bake in
the mould for three quarters of an hour if there is but one loaf, half
an hour if there are two.

The oven must be steady and not very hot at first. Turn the mould twice
in this time keeping the oven door open as short a time as possible.
When you think the loaf is done, thrust a clean straw down into the
thickest part.

If it comes up as clean as when it went in, take out the bread. Slip a
knife around the edge to loosen it, and turn out upside down on a warm
plate.

Cut in triangular slices at table, holding the knife upright to avoid
crushing and making it heavy.


Quick Biscuits.

    One quart of sifted flour.

    Two heaping tablespoonfuls of sweet, firm lard.

    Two cups of new milk (warm from the cow if you can get
      it.)

    Two tablespoonfuls of baking powder.

    One teaspoonful of salt.

Sift salt, flour, and baking-powder twice into a bowl or tray. With
a clean sharp chopping-knife work the lard into this, turning and
chopping until no lumps are left. Into a hollow in the middle pour
the milk, working the flour downward until you have a soft, wet mass,
using the chopper for this purpose. Flour your pastry-board and your
hands, make the dough into a ball, handling it as little as possible,
and lay on the board. Roll out with a floured rolling-pin into a sheet
half an inch in thickness, and with _very few strokes_. Cut into round
cakes, sift flour lightly over the bottom of a baking-pan, and set your
biscuits—just _not_ touching one another—in even rows within it.

Bake about twelve minutes in a quick oven. The dough should have a
rough appearance before it is baked, like what is known as “pebbled
morocco.” Too much handling will make it sleek without and tough within.

You can make excellent quick biscuits by the above receipt, by
substituting Hecker’s Prepared Flour for the barreled family flour,
and omitting the baking-powder. You will, however, probably be obliged
to add a little more milk, as prepared flour “thickens up” rather more
than other brands.




4

OTHER BREAKFAST BREADS.


Griddle Cakes.

IN making these, let quickness be the first, second and third rules.
Beat briskly and thoroughly; mix just as you are ready to send the
cakes to the table (except when yeast is used), bake, turn, and serve
promptly. Have all your materials on the table, measured and ready to
your hand. The griddle must be perfectly clean and wiped off with a dry
cloth just before you lay it on the stove. Heat it gradually at one
side of the stove or range, and when it is warm grease with a bit of
fat salt pork stuck firmly on a fork. The fat should be hissing hot,
but not scorching, when the batter is poured on. Before putting the
cakes on to fry, slip the griddle to the hottest part of the stove.
Drop the batter in great, even spoonfuls, and be careful not to spill
or spatter it.

M. H. PHILLIPS AND CO., of Troy, N. Y., manufacture a griddle with
three shallow cups sunken in an iron plate which moves on a hinge. When
the cakes are done on the lower side the turn of a handle reverses
the plate upon a heated surface. This makes the cakes of equal size
and thickness and saves the trouble of watching, spatula in hand, to
turn each one. It greatly simplifies the process of baking cakes, and,
lessens the heating labor of attending to them.

Be sure that each cake is done before you turn it. A twice-turned
“griddle” is spoiled.


Sour-milk Cakes.

    One quart of “loppered,” or of buttermilk.

    Three cups of sifted flour.

    One cup of Indian meal.

    One “rounded” teaspoonful of soda free from lumps.

    One teaspoonful of salt.

    Two tablespoonfuls of molasses.

Sift flour, salt and meal into a bowl. In another mix the milk,
molasses and soda. Stir these last to a foam, and pour into the hollow
in the middle of the flour. Work down the flour into the liquid with
a wooden spoon until you have a batter, and beat _hard_ with upward
strokes, two minutes. Bake at once. These are cheap, easy and good
cakes.


Hominy Cakes.

    Two cups of fine hominy boiled and cold. (Take the
      tough skin from the top before mixing in the batter.)

    One heaping cup of sifted flour.

    One quart of milk.

    Three eggs beaten very light.

    One tablespoonful of molasses.

    One teaspoonful of salt.

Rub the hominy with the back of a wooden spoon until all the lumps are
broken up. Wet it little by little with the milk and molasses, working
it smooth as you go on. Sift flour and salt together, and put in next.
Beat for a whole minute before adding the whipped eggs, and another
minute very hard, before baking. Stir up well from the bottom before
putting each fresh batch of cakes on the griddle.

These cakes if properly made, are tender, wholesome and delightful.


Graham Cakes.

    Two cups of Graham flour.

    One of sifted white.

    One heaping tablespoonful of Indian meal.

    Three cups of buttermilk, or loppered milk.

    One rounded teaspoonful of soda.

    Two tablespoonfuls of molasses.

    One teaspoonful of salt sifted with the flour.

    Two eggs whipped very light.

    One tablespoonful melted butter.

Put Graham and salted white flour into a bowl with the Indian meal.
Stir up in another milk, molasses, soda and melted butter, and while
foaming pour into the hollowed flour. Work to a good batter and beat in
the eggs already whipped to a froth.

Beat one minute and bake at once.

This is a good standard breakfast hot bread.




5

EGGS.


MANY people do not know a well-boiled egg by sight or taste, yet
a _fresh_ egg, boiled to a nicety, is one of the simplest, most
nutritious of breakfast dishes.


Boiled Eggs.

Select the cleanest eggs, wash them well, and lay them in lukewarm
water for five minutes. Have ready on the fire a saucepan of water on a
fast boil, and in quantity sufficient to cover the eggs entirely. Into
this put one egg at a time with a spoon, depositing each gently on the
bottom, and quickly.

_Four minutes_ boils an egg thoroughly, if one likes the white set and
the yolk heated to the centre. _Five minutes_ makes the white firm and
sets the yolk. _Ten minutes_ boils both hard.

Take up the eggs with a split spoon or wire whisk. If you have no
regular egg dish, lay a heated napkin in a deep dish or bowl (also
warmed), put in the eggs as in a nest, cover up with the corners of the
napkin, and send directly to the table. They harden in the shells if
left long without being broken.

The best way to manage a boiled egg at the table is the English way of
setting it upright in the small end of the egg-cup, making a hole in
the top large enough to admit the egg-spoon, and eating it from the
shell, seasoning as you go on. Heat and taste are undoubtedly better
preserved by this method than by any other. Those who cannot afford
gold-washed spoons, can procure pretty ivory ones at a trifling cost,
or small teaspoons will serve the purpose.

Spoons smeared with eggs should be laid to soak in _cold_ water
directly you have finished using them.


Custard Eggs.

Put the washed eggs in a saucepan of cold water and let them just come
to a boil, then take them up.

Or, lay them in a hot tin pail, cover them with boiling water, put the
top on the pail and leave them on the kitchen table for five minutes.
Drain off the water, pour on more _boiling_ hot and replace the top.
Wrap a hot towel about the pail, and leave it four minutes before
dishing the eggs. They will be like a soft custard throughout, and more
digestible than if cooked in any other way.


Poached, or Dropped Eggs.

Into a clean frying-pan, pour plenty of boiling water, and a
teaspoonful of salt. Let it boil steadily, not violently. Wipe a cup
dry, break an egg into it, and pour, very cautiously and quickly, on
the surface of the water. Avoid spreading or breaking it. It will sink
to the bottom for an instant, but if the water is boiling hot, will
rise soon and be cooked in about three and a half minutes. Do not put
more than three into the pan at one time, or they will run into one
another.

Take them up with a perforated skimmer and lay on a hot, flat dish
in which a teaspoonful of butter has been melted. If the whites have
ragged edges, trim neatly with a sharp knife. When all are done, pepper
and salt lightly, put a bit of butter on each egg and send up _very
hot_.


Eggs on Toast.

Cut out with a sharp-edged tumbler or a cake cutter as many round
slices of stale bread as there are eggs to be cooked. Toast these
nicely, butter thinly; cover the bottom of a heated dish with them, and
pour on each a tablespoonful of boiling water. Set in the plate-warmer
or an open oven while you poach eggs as directed in the last receipt.

Lay each when done on a round of toast, pepper, salt and butter, and
serve.


Eggs on Savory Toast.

Toast rounds of stale bread as directed in preceding receipt, but
instead of moistening them with hot water, pour upon them, as they
lie in the dish, two tablespoonfuls of boiling gravy to each slice.
A half-cupful of gravy left over from yesterday’s roast or stew
skimmed free of fat, heated, thinned with a very little boiling water,
well-seasoned, then strained and boiled up quickly, makes this a
tempting dish.

Poach as many eggs as you have rounds of toast, and lay on these, with
pepper, salt and bits of butter.


Scrambled or Stirred Eggs.

    Nine eggs.

    One tablespoonful of butter.

    Half a teaspoonful of salt.

    A little pepper.

    Half a teaspoonful of chopped parsley very fine.

Break the eggs altogether in a bowl. Put the butter in a clean
frying-pan and set it on the range. As it melts, add pepper, salt and
parsley. When it hisses, pour in the eggs, and begin at once to stir
them, scraping the bottom of the pan from the sides toward the centre,
until you have a soft, moist mass just firm enough not to run over the
bottom of the heated dish on which you turn it out. Make it into a neat
mound. Some people prefer it without the parsley.

In serving _everything_, be careful that the rims of the dishes are
perfectly clean. The effect of the most delicious viand is spoiled by
drops or smears of food on the vessel containing it.

If you heap your scrambled eggs on a platter and lay parsley-sprigs
around, making a green fringe or border for the yellow hillock, you
have an elegant dish. Study to make plain things pretty when you can.


Bacon and Eggs.

Fry as many slices of ham, or what is known as breakfast-bacon, as
there are eggs to be cooked. Have the clean frying-pan warm, but not
hot, when the meat goes in. Turn the slices as they brown. When done,
take the pan over to the sink or table, remove the meat to a hot dish
and set where it will keep warm.

Strain the grease left in the pan through a bit of tarlatan or coarse
muslin into a cup. Wipe the frying-pan clean, pour in the strained fat
and return to the fire. If there is not enough to cover the bottom a
quarter of an inch deep, add a tablespoonful of butter. Break the eggs
one at a time in a cup, and when the fat hisses put them in carefully.

Few people like “turned” fried eggs. Slip a cake-turner or spatula
under each as it cooks to keep it from sticking. They should be done in
about three minutes. Do not put in more at once than can swim in the
fat without interfering with one another.

Take up as fast as they cook, trim off ragged and rusty edges and lay
on a hot platter. Drain each to get rid of the fat, as you take it out
of the pan.

When all are dished, lay the ham or bacon neatly about the eggs like
a garnish. Pepper all lightly. Ham for this purpose should be cut in
small narrow slices.

Drop sprays of parsley on the rim of the dish.


Baked Eggs.

Put a tablespoonful of butter in a pie-plate, and set in the oven until
it melts and begins to smoke. Take it to the table and break six eggs
one by one into a cup, pouring each in turn into the melted butter
carefully. Sprinkle with pepper and salt, put a tiny bit of butter
on each and set in the oven to bake until the eggs are “set”—that is,
when the whites are firm and the yolks skimmed over, but not hard. Four
minutes in a quick oven should do this. Send to table at once.

If you have a few spoonfuls of nice chicken gravy, you can strain and
use it instead of butter.


Scalloped Eggs.

    Six eggs.

    Half a cupful of nice gravy skimmed and strained.
      Chicken, turkey, game and veal gravy are especially
      good for this purpose. Clear soup may also be used.

    Half a cupful of pounded cracker or fine dry
      bread-crumbs.

    Pepper and salt.

Pour the gravy into a pie-plate and let it get warm before putting in
the eggs as in last receipt. Pepper, salt and strew cracker crumbs
evenly over them. Bake five minutes. Serve in the pie-plate.


Dropped Eggs with White Sauce.

Drop or poach the eggs; put them on a hot, flat dish and pour over them
this sauce boiling hot.

    In a saucepan put half a cupful of boiling water.

    Two or three large spoonfuls of nice strained gravy.

    A little pepper.

    A quarter teaspoonful of salt.

When this boils stir in a heaping teaspoonful of flour wet up smoothly
with a little cold water to keep it from lumping. Stir and boil one
minute and add a tablespoonful of butter. Stir steadily two minutes
longer, add, if you like, a little minced parsley, and pour the sauce
which should be like thick cream, over the dished eggs.


Omelette.

    Six eggs.

    Four teaspoonfuls of cream.

    Half a teaspoonful salt.

    A little pepper.

    Two tablespoonfuls of butter.

Whip whites and yolks together for four minutes in a bowl with the
“Dover” egg beater. They should be thick and smooth before you beat in
cream, salt and pepper. Melt the butter in a clean frying-pan, set on
one side of the stove where it will keep warm but not scorch. Pour the
beaten mixture into it and remove to a place where the fire is hotter.
As it “sets,” slip a broad knife carefully around the edges and under
it, that the butter may find its way freely to all parts of the pan.

When the middle is just set, pass a cake-turner _carefully_ under one
half of the omelette and fold it over the other. Lay a hot platter
upside down above the doubled mass and holding frying-pan and dish
firmly, turn the latter quickly over, reversing the positions of the
two, and depositing the omelette in the dish.

Do not be mortified should you break your trial omelette. Join the bits
neatly; lay sprays of parsley over the cracks and try another soon. Be
sure it is loosened from the pan before you try to turn it out; hold
pan and dish fast in place; do not be nervous or flurried, and you will
soon catch the knack of dishing the omelette dexterously and handsomely.

I have given you ten receipts for cooking eggs. It would be easy to
furnish as many more without exhausting the list of ways of preparing
this invaluable article of food for our tables. I have selected the
methods that are at once easy and excellent, and adapted to the ability
of a class of beginners.




6

BROILED MEATS.


IT has been said that the frying-pan has ruined more American
digestions than all the other hurtful agencies combined. It
is certainly true that while the process of frying _properly_
performed upon certain substances does not of necessity, make them
unwholesome—the useful utensil does play altogether too important a
part in our National cookery. Broiled meats are more wholesome, more
palatable, and far more elegant. Certain things should never be fried.
That beefsteak should _never_ make the acquaintance of the frying-pan
is a rule without an exception.

The best gridirons for private families are the light, double
“broilers,” made of tinned wire and linked together at the back with
loops of the same material. They are easily handled, turned and
cleansed, and when not in use may be hung on the wall out of the way.
It is well to have two sizes, one for large steaks, the smaller for
birds, oysters, and when there is occasion to broil a single chop or
chicken-leg for an invalid.


Beefsteak.

Never wash a steak unless it has fallen in the dirt or met with other
accident. In this case cleanse quickly in cold water and wipe perfectly
dry before cooking.

Have a clear hot fire and do not uncover that part of the stove above
it until you have adjusted the steak on the broiler. If you use the
ordinary iron gridiron, lay the meat on it the instant it goes over the
fire, but have it already warm and rub the bars with a bit of fresh
suet.

When the meat has lain over the coals two minutes and begins to
“sizzle,” turn it and let the other side cook as long. Watch it
continually and turn whenever it begins to drip. Do this quickly to
keep in the juices. If these should fall in the fire in spite of your
care, lift it for an instant and hold over a plate or dish until the
smoke is gone. Broiled meats flavored with creosote are not uncommon,
but always detestable. The knack of broiling a steak well is to turn it
so often and dexterously that it will neither be smoked nor scorched.

Ten minutes should cook it rare, if the fire is right and the steak
not very thick. Cut with a keen blade into the thickest part when the
time is up. If the heart is of a rich red-brown—not the livid purple of
uncooked flesh, carry broiler and meat to a table where stands a hot
dish. Lay the steak on this. In a saucer have a liberal tablespoonful
of butter cut into bits, and with these rub both sides of the smoking
steak, leaving unmelted pieces on the top. Sprinkle it also on both
sides with pepper and salt—about half a teaspoonful of salt and a third
as much pepper for a large steak. All this must be done _quickly_.
Before you begin to cook the steak, prepare the butter and measure the
salt and pepper. Cover the dish closely. If you have not a block-tin
dish-cover, lay over the steak another dish, made very hot in the oven,
and set both with the meat between them in the plate-warmer, or in an
open oven, or somewhere where it will keep hot for three minutes.

Serve—i. e. put on the table—as hot as possible and on warm plates.
Unless you have a hot water dish, do not send the steak into the
dining-room until all have taken their places.

Sometimes steak is tough. You shake your head over it as it comes from
the butcher’s basket. I know of an enterprising meat merchant who
objected to a wealthy customer because he would have choice cuts. He
was willing to pay double for them, but as the worthy seller observed:
“We _must_ sell second-best cuts, and he’d ought to take his turn.”

Like sin, tough steak ought not to be, but it _is_! If your turn to
take it has come, lay it on a clean board, some hours before cooking
it, and hack it on both sides, criss-cross, with a tolerably sharp
knife, taking care not to cut too deeply. Rub both sides very well
with the strained juice of a lemon, and set the meat in a cold place
until you are ready to cook it. Do this over night, if you want it for
breakfast. Very tough, fibrous meat is sometimes made eatable by this
process.


Mutton or Lamb Chops.

Cut off most of the fat and all the skin. A clean bone an inch in
length will project from the smaller end when you have pared away the
tallow and skin which would have cooked into rankness and leather.

Put as many chops on the broiler as it will conveniently hold, and
broil as you would beefsteak. Cut into the largest to see if it is
done. If it is, lay the chops on a heated dish set over a pot of
boiling water; butter, pepper and salt them, and cover them up while
you cook the rest.

Serve as soon as the last is cooked, as they lose flavor with standing.

Lay sprigs of parsley around the edges of the dish and scatter a few
over the chops which must be arranged in neat rows, a small end next to
a large.


Broiled Ham.

Cut even slices from a cold boiled Ferris & Co.’s “Trade Mark” ham.
Divide these into oblong pieces about an inch and a half in width,
and broil quickly over clear coals until a delicate brown touches the
slices here and there. Lay in order on a hot dish. Broiled ham is
appetizing, and should be accompanied by dry toast, lightly buttered.




7

FRIED MEATS.


Larded Liver.

THE butcher will slice the liver, or show you how to do it. When it is
cut up, lay it in cold water in which has been stirred a teaspoonful of
salt. This will draw out the blood.

Cut fat, raw salt pork into strips a finger long and a quarter of an
inch thick and wide.

In half an hour’s time take the liver from the water, spread it out on
a clean dry cloth, lay another cloth over the slices and pat gently
to dry them thoroughly. Make holes an inch apart in the liver with a
pen-knife or sharp skewer, and stick in the pork strips. They should
protrude an equal distance on both sides.

As fast as they are ready, lay them in a clean, warm (_not_ hot)
frying-pan. When all are in, set it over the fire, and let it fry
rather slowly in the fat that will run out from the pork “lardoons.”
In five minutes turn the slices, and again ten minutes later. Let the
liver heat quite slowly for the first ten minutes. If cooked fast it is
hard and indigestible. Allow about twenty-five minutes for frying it.

Take it up with a fork, draining off every drop of grease against the
side of the pan as you remove each piece, and dish on a hot platter.

Put a half a teaspoonful of tomato sauce on each slice. Serve without
gravy and very hot.


Veal Cutlets (Breaded).

Whip two eggs light and pour them into a pie-plate. Turn the cutlets,
one by one, over in this until every part is coated. In another dish
spread evenly a cupful of rolled or pounded cracker, very fine and dry.
Turn the “egged” cutlets over in this to encrust them well.

Meanwhile four large spoonfuls of sweet lard or nice beef-dripping
must be melting in a clean frying-pan at one side of the range. When
the cutlets are all breaded, move the pan directly over the fire. As
the fat begins a lively hiss, put in as many cutlets as can lie in it
without crowding. In five minutes turn them with care, not to loosen
the crumb-coating. After another five minutes of rapid frying, pull the
pan to a spot where the cooking will go on slowly, but regularly. In
ten minutes turn the cutlets a second time. In another ten minutes they
should be done.

Understand! The first fast cooking sears the surface of the meat and
forms the breading into a firm crust that keeps in the juices. The
slower work that follows cooks the veal thoroughly without hardening
the fibres.

Lift the cutlets carefully from the pan, draining all the grease from
each, and keep hot in a covered dish set over a pot of boiling water
until all are done.

Always put tomato catsup or tomato sauce, in some form, on the table
with veal cutlets.


Sausage Cakes.

Break off bits of sausage meat of equal size, roll them in the palms of
clean hands into balls and pat them into flat cakes. Arrange them in a
frying-pan and cook (not too fast) in their own fat, turning them twice
until they are nicely and evenly browned. The time allowed for frying
them depends on the size of the cakes. If they are not large, fifteen
minutes should be enough.

Serve on a hot dish, without gravy.


Smothered Sausages.

Prick “link” sausages—that is, those done up in skins, in fifteen or
twenty places, with a large needle; put them in a clean frying-pan in
which is a half a teacup full of hot water. Roll the sausages over in
this several times and cover _closely_. If you have not the lid of a
pot or of a tin-pail that fits the frying-pan, use a pie-dish turned
upside down. Set the pan where the water will bubble slowly, for ten
minutes. Lift the cover then, and roll the sausages over again two or
three times, to wet them thoroughly, leaving them with the sides up
that were down. Cover again and cook ten minutes longer. Turn them
twice more, at intervals of five minutes, cover, and let them steam
four minutes before taking them up. They will be plump, whole, tender
and well-done, and the bottom of the pan be almost dry. Lay in neat
rows on a hot dish.


Fish Balls.

Soak a pound of cod-fish all night in cold water. Change it in the
morning, and cover with lukewarm water for three hours more. Wash it,
scraping off the salt and fat; put it into a sauce-pan, cover it well
with water just blood-warm, and let it simmer—that is, not _quite_
boil, two hours. Take it up, pick out the bones and remove the skin,
and set the fish aside to cool.

When perfectly cold chop it fine in a wooden tray. Have ready, for a
cupful of minced fish, nearly two cupfuls of potato boiled and mashed
very smooth.

    A tablespoonful of butter.

    Half a teaspoonful of salt.

    Two tablespoonfuls of milk worked into the fish while
      hot.

    Add also, when the potato has been rubbed until free
      from lumps, the beaten yolk of an egg. Work this in
      well with a wooden or silver spoon.

    Now stir in the chopped fish, a little at a time,
      mixing all together until you have a soft mass which
      you can handle easily.

Drop a tablespoonful of the mixture on a floured pastry board, or a
floured dish. Flour your hands, roll the fish and potato into a ball,
and pat it into a cake, or make it as round as a marble. Lay these as
you form them on a dish dusted with flour, and when all are made out,
set in a cool place until morning.

Half an hour before breakfast, have five or six great spoonfuls of
sweet lard hissing hot in a frying-pan or doughnut-kettle. Put in the
balls a few at a time; turn as they color; take them out when they are
of a tanny brown, lay them in a hot colander set in a plate, and keep
warm in the open oven until all are fried.


A Breakfast Stew (very nice).

    Two pounds of lean beef. (The “second best cuts” may be
      used here.)

    A quarter of a medium-sized onion.

    A tablespoonful of browned flour.

    Half a teaspoonful each of minced parsley, summer
      savory, and sweet marjoram.

    As much allspice as will lie on a silver dime.

    One teaspoonful of Halford sauce.

    One saltspoonful of made mustard.

    One saltspoonful of pepper.

    Strained juice of half a lemon.

Cut the meat into pieces an inch square. Put it with the chopped onion
into a saucepan with a pint of lukewarm water; cover closely and cook
slowly, _at least_ two hours and a half. The meat should not be allowed
to boil hard at any time, and when done, be so tender that it is ready
to fall to pieces.

Pour the stew into a bowl, add the salt and pepper, cover it and set in
a cool place until next morning.

Then put it back into the sauce-pan, set it over a quick fire, and
when it begins to boil, stir in the spice and herbs. (The latter may
be bought dried and powdered at the druggist’s if you cannot get them
fresh.)

Boil up sharply five minutes.

The flour should be browned the day before, by spreading it on a tin
plate and setting this on the stove, stirring constantly to keep it
from burning black. Or a better way is, to set the tin plate in a hot
oven, opening the door now and then to stir it. It is a good plan to
brown a good deal—say a cupful of flour—at a time, and keep it in a
glass jar for thickening gravies, etc.

Wet up a heaping tablespoonful of this with three tablespoonfuls of
cold water, the lemon-juice, mustard and Worcestershire sauce. Rub
smooth and stir well into the stew. Boil two minutes longer to thicken
the gravy and turn out into a deep covered dish.

This is a good dinner, as well as breakfast dish. A teaspoonful of
catsup is an improvement.




8

WHAT TO DO WITH “LEFT-OVERS.”


A VOLUME, instead of a single chapter, might be written upon the
various methods of preparing what the French call “_rechauffés_,” and
we speak of, usually contemptuously, as “warmed-over” meats. Cold
meat is seldom tempting except to the very hungry. Cold tongue, ham
and poultry are well enough on picnics and as a side-dish at tea. At
breakfast they are barely admissible; for a simple luncheon tolerable;
for dinner hardly excusable. At the first and last meal of the day, the
stomach craves something hot and relishable.

A wife told me, once, with strong disgust in the remembrance, that
when her husband took her on the wedding-trip to visit his mother, a
frugal Massachusetts matron, they were set down within half an hour
after their arrival, to lunch on a cold eel-pie left from the day
before. The daughter-in-law, forty years later, spoke feelingly of the
impression of niggardliness and inhospitality made on her mind by the
incident.

“If she had even warmed it up, I should not have felt so forlornly
homesick,” she said. “But cold eel-pie! Think of it!”

I confess to heartfelt sympathy with the complainant. There is a
suggestion of friendliness and home-comfort in the “goodly smell” of a
steaming-hot _entrée_ set before family or guest. It argues forethought
for those who are to be fed. We have the consciousness that we are
expected and that somebody has cared enough for us to make ready a
visible welcome. Pale slices of cold mutton, and thin slabs of corned
beef cannot, with the best intentions on the part of the caterer,
convey this.

The summing up of this lecture, is: Neither despise unlikely fragments
left over from roast, baked or boiled, nor consider them good enough as
they are without “rehabilitation.”

We will begin with a dish the mention of which provokes a sneer more
often than any other known to civilization.


Hash.

Rid cold corned or roast beef of fat, skin and gristle, and mince it in
a wooden tray with a sharp chopper until the largest piece is not more
than an eighth of an inch square.

With two cupfuls of this mix a cupful of mashed potato rubbed smooth
with a potato beater or wooden spoon.

Season well with pepper and salt if the beef be fresh, if corned use
the salt sparingly and pepper well.

Set a clean frying-pan on the stove with a cupful of beef gravy in it
from which you have skimmed all the fat. Clear soup will do if you
have no gravy. If you have neither, pour into the pan a half-pint of
boiling water and stir into this three tablespoonfuls of butter. When
the butter-water (or gravy) reaches the boil, add a half-teaspoonful of
made mustard.

Then put in the meat and potato and stir—scraping the bottom of the pan
to prevent sticking—for five minutes, or until you have a bubbling-hot
mass, not stiff, nor yet semi-liquid. It must have been brought to
boiling heat and kept at it about five minutes, cooking so fast that
you have to stir and toss constantly lest it should scorch.

Heap on a hot dish, and eat from hot plates.


Hash Cakes.

Having prepared the hash as above set it aside until cold, when mould
into flat cakes as you would sausage meat, and roll in flour. Heat
nice beef-dripping to a boil in a frying-pan, lay in the cakes, and fry
to a light brown on both sides.


Beef Croquettes.

You can make these of the cold hash by moulding it into rolls about
three and a half inches long, and rather more than an inch in diameter.
Roll these over and over on a floured dish or board to get them smooth
and regular in shape; flatten the ends by setting each upright on the
floury dish, and put enough dripping in the pan to cover them as they
lie on their sides in it. It should be _very_ hot before they go in.

Roll over carefully in the fat as they brown, not to spoil the shape.
Do not put too many in the pan at once; as fast as they are done take
them up and lay in a hot colander until all are ready. Arrange neatly
on a heated flat dish and serve.


A Mutton Stew.

Cut slices of cold mutton half an inch thick, trim away fat and skin
and divide the lean meat into neat squares about an inch across.

Drop a piece of onion as large as a hickory-nut in a cupful of water
and boil fifteen minutes. Strain the water through a bit of muslin,
squeezing the onion hard to extract the flavor. Allow this cupful of
water to two cupfuls of meat. If you have less mutton use less water;
if more increase the quantity of liquid.

Pour the water into a clean saucepan and when it boils add two full
tablespoonfuls of butter cut into bits and rolled over and over in
browned flour until no more will adhere to the butter.

Stir this in with a little pepper and salt, a pinch of mace and a
teaspoonful of lemon-juice. Boil up once and drop in the meat. Cover
closely and let it simmer at one side of the stove, almost, but never
_quite_ boiling, for ten minutes.

Turn into a deep dish and serve very hot.


Minced Mutton on Toast.

Trim off skin and fat from slices of cold mutton and mince in a
chopping-tray. Season with pepper and salt.

Into a clean frying-pan, pour a cupful of mutton-gravy which has been
skimmed well, mixed with a little hot water and strained through a bit
of coarse muslin.

When this boils, wet a teaspoonful of browned flour with three
tablespoonfuls of cold water, and a teaspoonful of tomato or walnut
catsup, or half a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce. Rub out all the
lumps and stir into the gravy in the frying-pan. Boil up once well
before putting in the mutton.

As soon as the mixture bubbles and smokes all over, draw it to one
side of the range where it will keep hot, but not quite boil; cover
it closely, and let it stand five minutes. Warmed-over mutton becomes
insipid when cooked too much.

Before the mince is put into the pan, toast the bread. Cut thick slices
from a stale loaf, and trim off the crust. If you would have them look
particularly nice, cut them round with a cake or biscuit-cutter. Toast
to a light-brown, and keep hot until the mince is cooked.

Then lay the toast on a heated platter; butter the rounds well on both
sides, and pour on each a tablespoonful of _boiling_ water. Heap a
great spoonful of the minced mutton on each piece.

The mince should not be a stiff paste, nor yet so soft as to run all
over the dish. A cupful of gravy will be enough for three cupfuls of
meat.

Some people fancy a little green pickle or chow chow chopped very fine
and mixed in with the mince while cooking. Others think the dish
improved by the addition of a teaspoonful of lemon-juice put in just
before taking it from the fire.


Devilled Mutton.

    Cut even slices of cold mutton, not too fat.

    Stir together and melt in a clean frying-pan two
      tablespoonfuls of butter and one of currant or grape
      jelly.

    When it hisses lay in the mutton and heat
      slowly—turning several times—for five minutes, or
      until the slices are soft and very hot, but not until
      they begin to crisp.

    Take out the meat, lay on a warmed dish, cover and set
      over boiling water.

    To the butter and jelly left in the pan add three
      tablespoonfuls of vinegar.

    A small teaspoonful of made mustard.

    A quarter spoonful of salt.

    Half as much pepper as you have salt.

    Stir together over the fire until they boil, and pour
      on the meat. Cover three minutes over boiling water,
      and serve.


Devilled, or Barbecued Ham.

Slice cold Ferris & Co.’s “Trade Mark” ham, lean and fat together, and
lay in a clean frying-pan. Fry gently in the grease that runs from it
as it heats, until the lean is soft, the fat clear and beginning to
crisp at the edges.

Take out the slices with a fork, lay on a warmed dish; keep hot over
boiling water.

Add to the fat left in the frying-pan:

    Four tablespoonfuls of vinegar.

    A small teaspoonful of made mustard.

    As much pepper as will lie _easily_ on a silver
      half-dime.

    Stir until it boils, then pour on the ham. Let it stand
      covered over the boiling water for five minutes
      before sending to the table.


Chicken Croquettes.

    One cup of cold chicken, minced fine.

    One quarter cup of pounded cracker.

    One teaspoonful of cornstarch, wet up in a _little_
      cold water.

    One egg.

    One tablespoonful of butter.

    Half a tablespoonful of salt.

    A good pinch of pepper.

    Half a cupful of boiling water.

    Mix minced chicken and crumbs together in a bowl with
      salt and pepper.

Put the boiling water in a clean saucepan, add the butter and set over
the fire. When the butter is melted stir in the wet corn starch. Boil
and stir until it thickens.

Have the egg beaten light in a bowl and pour the hot mixture upon it.
Beat well, and mix with the minced chicken. Let it get perfectly cold
and make into croquettes as directed for beef croquettes.

But roll these in a well-beaten egg, then in fine cracker-crumbs
instead of flour, and fry, a few at a time, in a mixture half-butter,
half-lard enough to cover them well. Drain off every drop of fat from
each croquette as you take it up, and keep hot until all are done.

Serve hot and at once.




9

DINNER DISHES.


I AM amused and yet made thoughtful by the fact that so many young
housekeepers write to me of their pleasure in cake-making and
their desire to learn how to compound what are usually known as
“fancy-dishes,” some sending excellent receipts for loaf-cake, cookies
and doughnuts, while few express the least interest in soups, meats and
vegetables. The drift of the dear creatures’ thoughts reminds me of a
rhymed—“If I had!” which I read years ago, setting forth how a little
boy would have if he could, a house built of pastry, floored with
taffy, ceiled with sugar-plums, and roofed with frosted gingerbread.
In engaging a cook one does not ask, first of all, “Can you get up
handsome desserts?” but, “Do you understand bread-making and baking,
and the management of meats, soups, and other branches of plain
cookery?”

The same “plain cookery” is the pivot on which the family health and
comfort rest and turn. If you would qualify yourselves to become
thorough housewives, it is as essential that you should master the
principles of this, as that a musician should be able to read the notes
on the staff. Some people do play tolerably by ear, but they are never
ranked as students, much less as professors of music. “Fancy” cookery
is to the real thing what embroidery is to the art of the seamstress.
She who has learned how to use her needle deftly upon “seam, gusset and
band,” will find the acquisition of ornamental stitches an easy matter.
Skill in Kensington and satin stitch is of little value in fitting one
to do “fine,” which is also useful sewing.

I am sorry to add that my observation goes to prove that more American
housekeepers can make delicate and rich cake than excellent soups.


Soup Stock.

    Two pounds coarse lean beef, chopped almost as fine as
      sausage-meat.

    One pound of lean veal—also chopped.

    Two pounds of bones (beef, veal, or mutton) cracked in
      several places.

    Half an onion chopped.

    Two or three stalks of celery, when you can get it.

    Five quarts of cold water.

Meat and bones should be raw, but if you have bones left from underdone
beef or mutton, you may crack and add them. Put all the ingredients (no
salt or pepper) in a large clean pot, cover it closely and set at one
side of the range where it will not get really hot under two hours.
This gives the water time to draw out the juices of the meat. Then
remove to a warmer place, stir up well from the bottom, and cook slowly
five hours longer.

It should never boil hard, but “bubble-bubble” softly and steadily all
the while. Fast boiling toughens the fibres and keeps in the juice of
the meat which should form the body of the soup. When the time is up,
lift the pot from the fire, throw in a heaping tablespoonful of salt,
and a teaspoonful of pepper, and pour out into your “stock-pot.” This
should be a stout stone crock or jar, with a cover, and be used for
nothing else.

See that it is free from grease, dust and all smell, scald out with hot
water and soda, then with clean boiling water just before pouring in
the soup, or the hot liquid may crack it.

Put on the cover and set in a cold place until next day.

Then take off every particle of the caked fat from the top. You can use
this as dripping for frying. Soup that has globules of grease floating
on the surface is unwholesome and slovenly.

Strain the skimmed liquid through a colander, squeezing the meat hard
to extract every drop of nutriment. Throw away the tasteless fibres and
bones when you have wrung them dry.

This process should give you about three quarts of strong “stock.”

Rinse your jar well and pour back the strained stock into it to be used
as the foundation of several days’ soups. Season it highly and keep in
a cold place—in warm weather on the ice.

I hope you will not fail to set up a “stock-pot.” Every family should
have one. It makes the matter of really good soups simple and easy.


Clear Soup with Sago or Tapioca.

Soak half a cup of German sago or pearl tapioca four hours in a
large cup of cold water. An hour before dinner put a quart of your
soup-stock on the stove and bring quickly almost to a boil. When it
is hot, stir in the raw white and the shell of an egg, and, stirring
frequently to prevent the egg from catching on the bottom of the pot,
boil fast ten minutes.

Take off and strain through a clean thick cloth, wrung out in hot water
and laid like a lining in your colander. Do not squeeze the cloth, or
you will muddy the soup.

Return the liquid, when strained, to the saucepan, which must be
perfectly clean; stir in the soaked tapioca and a teaspoonful of minced
parsley, and simmer half an hour on the side of the range.

If necessary, add a little more seasoning.

When you have made nice clear soup once, you may, if you like, color
the second supply with a little “caramel-water.”

This is made by putting a tablespoonful of sugar in a tin cup and
setting it over the fire until it breaks up into brown bubbles, then
pouring a few tablespoonfuls of boiling water on it and stirring it
until dissolved. A tablespoonful of this in a quart of clear soup will
give a fine amber color and not injure the flavor. Send all soups in to
table very hot.


Julienne Soup.

    One quarter of a firm white cabbage, shred as for cold
      slaw.

    One small turnip, peeled and cut into thin dice.

    One carrot, peeled and cut into strips like inch-long
      straws.

    One teaspoonful of onion shred fine.

    Three raw tomatoes, peeled and cut into bits.

    One tablespoonful of minced parsley, and, if you can
      get it, three stalks of celery cut into thin slices.

Use a sharp knife for this work and bruise the vegetables as little as
possible.

When all are prepared, put them in hot water enough to cover them,
throw in a teaspoonful of salt and cook gently half an hour.

Clear a quart of soup-stock as directed in the last receipt, and color
it with a teaspoonful of Halford sauce, or walnut catsup.

When the vegetables are tender, turn them into a colander to drain,
taking care not to mash or break them. Throw away the water in which
they were boiled, and add the vegetables to the clear hot soup.

Taste, to determine if it needs more pepper or salt, and simmer all
together gently twenty minutes before turning into the tureen.


White Chicken Soup (Delicious).

A tough fowl can be converted into very delicious dishes by boiling it
first for soup and mincing it, when cold, for croquettes.

In boiling it, allow a quart of cold water for each pound of chicken,
and set it where it will heat very slowly.

If the fowl be quite old do not let it reach a boil under two hours,
then boil _very_ gently four hours longer.

Throw in a tablespoonful of salt when you take it from the fire, turn
chicken and liquor into a bowl and set in a cold place all night.

Next day skim off the fat, strain the broth from the chicken, shaking
the colander to do this well, and put aside the meat for croquettes or
a scallop.

Set three pints of the broth over the fire with a teaspoonful of
chopped onion, season with salt and pepper, and let it boil half an
hour. Line a colander with a thick cloth, and strain the liquid,
squeezing the cloth to get the flavor of the onion.

Return the strained soup to the saucepan, with a tablespoonful of
minced parsley, and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, scald in a farina
kettle a cupful of milk, dropping into it a bit of soda the size of a
pea.

Stir into this when hot, a tablespoonful of cornstarch wet up with
cold milk. When it thickens scrape it out into a bowl in which you have
two eggs whipped light. Beat all together well, and stir in, spoonful
by spoonful, a cupful of the boiling soup.

Draw the soup pot to one side of the range, stir in the contents of the
bowl, and let it stand—but not boil—three minutes before pouring into
the tureen.


Chicken and Rice Soup

Is made as white chicken soup, but with the addition of four
tablespoonfuls of rice, boiled soft, and added to the chicken liquor at
the same time with the parsley. Then proceed as directed, with milk,
eggs, etc.


Tomato Soup.

    Add a quart of raw tomatoes, peeled and sliced, or a
      can of stewed tomatoes, and half a small onion to a
      quart of stock, and stew slowly one hour.

    Strain and rub through a colander and set again over
      the fire.

    Stir in a tablespoonful of butter cut up and rubbed
      into a tablespoonful of flour.

    A tablespoonful of cornstarch wet up with cold water.

    Season to taste with pepper and salt, boil once more
      and pour out.


Bean Soup.

Soak one pint of dried beans all night in lukewarm water. In the
morning add three quarts of cold water, half a pound of nice salt pork,
cut into strips, half an onion chopped, and three stalks of celery, cut
small. Set at one side of the fire until it is very hot, then where it
will cook slowly, and let it boil four hours. Stir up often from the
bottom, as bean-soup is apt to scorch.

An hour before dinner, set a colander over another pot and rub the bean
porridge through the holes with a stout wooden spoon, leaving the
skins in the colander.

Return the soup to the fire, stir in a tablespoonful of butter rubbed
in a tablespoonful of flour, and simmer gently fifteen minutes longer.

Have ready in the tureen a double handful of strips or squares of stale
bread, fried like doughnuts in dripping, and drained dry. Also, half a
lemon, peeled and sliced very thin.

Pour the soup on these and serve.


A Soup Maigre (without Meat).

    Twelve mealy potatoes, peeled and sliced.

    One quart of tomatoes—canned or fresh.

    One half of an onion.

    Two stalks of celery.

    One tablespoonful of minced parsley.

    Four tablespoonfuls of butter, cut up and rolled in
      flour.

    One tablespoonful of cornstarch wet and dissolved in
      cold water.

    One lump of white sugar.

    Three quarts of cold water will be needed.

Parboil the sliced potatoes fifteen minutes in enough hot water to
cover them well. Drain this off and throw it away. Put potatoes,
tomatoes, onion, celery and parsley on in three quarts of cold water,
and cook gently two hours.

Then rub them all through a colander, return the soup to the pot, drop
in the sugar, season to taste with pepper and salt, boil up once and
take off the scum before adding the floured butter, and when this is
dissolved, the cornstarch.

Stir two minutes over the fire, and your soup is ready for the table.
Very good it will prove, too, if the directions be exactly followed.

When celery is out of season, you can use instead of it, a little
essence of celery, or, what is better, celery salt.




10

MEATS.


ONE of the most comico-pathetico true stories I know is that of a boy,
the youngest of a large family, who, having always sat at the second
table, knew nothing experimentally of the choicer portions of chicken
or turkey. Being invited out to dinner as the guest of a playmate, he
was asked, first of all present, “what part of the turkey he preferred.”

“The _carker_” (carcass), “and a little of the _stuff_” (stuffing), “if
you please,” replied the poor little fellow, with prompt politeness.

It was his usual ration, and in his ignorance, he craved nothing
better.

The pupil in cookery who enjoys tossing up _entrées_, and devising
dainty _rechauffés_, but cannot support the thought of handling raw
chickens and big-boned joints of butcher’s meat, is hardly wiser than
he.

It is a common fallacy to believe that this branch of the culinary art
is uninteresting drudgery, fit only for the hands of the very plain
hired cook.

Another mistake, almost as prevalent, lies in supposing that she can,
of course, perform the duty properly. There is room for intelligent
skill in so simple a process as roasting a piece of meat, nor is the
task severe or repulsive. Practically, it is far more important to know
how to do this well, than to be proficient in cake, jelly, and pudding
making.


Roast Beef.

Have a steady, moderate fire in the stove-grate. Increase the heat when
the meat is thoroughly warmed.

Lay the beef, skin side uppermost, in a clean baking-pan, and dash all
over it two cups of _boiling_ water in which a teaspoonful of salt
has been dissolved. This sears the surface slightly, and keeps in the
juices.

Shut the oven door, and do not open again for twenty minutes. Then,
with a ladle or iron spoon dip up the salted water and pour it over
the top of the meat, wetting every part again and again. Eight or ten
ladlefuls should be used in this “basting,” which should be repeated
every fifteen minutes for the next hour. Allow twelve minutes to each
pound of meat in roasting beef.

Do not swing the oven door wide while you baste, but slip your hand
(protected by an old glove or a napkin) into the space left by the
half-open door, and when you have wet the surface of the roast quickly
and well, shut it up again to heat and steam.

A little care in this respect will add much to the flavor and
tenderness of the beef.

Should one side of it, or the back, brown more rapidly than the
rest, turn the pan in the oven, and should the water dry up to a few
spoonfuls, pour in another cupful from the tea-kettle.

About twenty minutes before the time for the roasting is up, draw the
pan to the oven-door, and sift flour over the meat from a flour dredger
or a small sieve. Shut the door until the flour browns, then baste
abundantly, and dredge again.

In five minutes, or when this dredging is brown, rub the top of the
meat with a good teaspoonful of butter, dredge quickly and close the
door.

If the fire is good, in a few minutes a nice brown froth will encrust
the surface of the cooked meat. Lift the pan to the side table, take
up the beef by slipping a strong cake-turner or broad knife under it,
holding it firmly with a fork, and transfer to a heated platter.

Set in the plate-warmer, or over boiling water, while you make the
gravy.


Gravy (brown).

Set the pan in which the meat was roasted, _on_ the range when the beef
has been removed to a dish. Scrape toward the centre the browned flour
from sides and bottom and dust in a little more from your dredger as
you stir. If the water has boiled away until the bottom of the pan is
exposed, add a little, _boiling hot_, directly from the teakettle and
stir until the gravy is of the consistency of rich cream.

Pepper to taste and pour into a gravy boat.

While I give these directions, I may remark that few people of nice
taste like _made_ thickened gravy with roast beef. Many prefer,
instead, the red essence which follows the carver’s knife and settles
in the dish. The carver should give each person helped his or her
choice in this matter.

I am thus explicit with regard to roasting beef because the process is
substantially the same with all meats. Dash scalding water over the
piece put down for cooking in this way: heat rather slowly at first,
increasing the heat as you go on; baste faithfully; keep the oven open
as little as may be and dredge, then baste, alternately, for twenty
minutes, or so, before dishing the meat.


Roast Mutton.

Cook exactly as you would beef: but if you wish a made gravy, pour
it first from the baking-pan into a bowl and set in cold water five
minutes, or until the fat has risen to the top.

Skim off all of this that you can remove without disturbing the dregs.
It is “mutton-tallow”—very good for chapped hands, but not for human
stomachs. Return the gravy to the fire, thicken, add boiling water, if
needed, and stir until smooth.

Always send currant, or grape jelly, around with mutton and lamb.


Roast Lamb.

Cook two minutes less in the pound than you would mutton. Instead of
gravy, you can send in with it, if you choose


Mint Sauce.

To two tablespoonfuls of chopped mint, add a tablespoonful of white
sugar and nearly two thirds of a cup of vinegar. Let them stand
together ten minutes in a cool place before sending to table.


Roast Veal

Must be cooked twice as long as beef or mutton, and very well basted,
the flesh being fibrous and dry. To the made gravy add two teaspoonfuls
of stewed and strained tomato, or one tablespoonful of tomato catsup,
and cook one minute before pouring into the gravy-boat.


Roast Turkey, Chicken or Duck.

It would not be possible for me to write such directions as would
enable you to prepare a fowl for cooking. Yet I advise you to learn
how to draw and dress poultry. Watch the process closely, if you have
opportunity, or else ask some experienced friend to instruct you.

For the present we will suppose that our fowl is ready for the
roasting pan. Lay it in tenderly, breast uppermost, pour a bountiful
cup of boiling water, slightly salted, over it, if it be a chicken
or duck, two cupfuls, if a turkey, and roast, basting often, about
twelve minutes for each pound. When the breastbone browns, turn the
fowl on one side, and as this colors, on the other, that all may be
done evenly. Dredge once with flour fifteen minutes before taking up
the roast and when this browns, rub all over with a tablespoonful of
butter. Shut up ten minutes longer and it is ready for dishing.

Chop the liver and soft parts of the gizzard—which have been roasted
with the fowl—fine, and stir into the gravy while you are making it.


Fricasseed Chicken.

Cut up a full-grown fowl into joints, dividing the back and breast into
two pieces each. Lay these in cold water, slightly salted, for half
an hour. Wipe dry with a clean cloth. In the bottom of a pot scatter
a handful of chopped fat salt pork, with half a teaspoonful of minced
onion. On this lay the pieces of chicken. Sprinkle a double handful
of pork on the top with another half teaspoonful of onion, pour in
carefully, enough cold water to cover all, fit on a close top, and set
the pot where it will heat slowly. It should not boil under one hour
at least. Increase the heat, then, but keep at a _very_ gentle boil
for another hour, or until the chicken is tender. The time needed for
cooking will depend on the age of the fowl. Fast stewing will harden
and toughen it.

When done, take out the chicken with a fork and arrange on a warm dish,
covering and keeping it hot in the plate warmer or over boiling water.
Add to the gravy left in the pot two tablespoonfuls of chopped parsley,
a heaping tablespoonful of butter cut up in the same quantity of flour,
half a teaspoonful of salt, and a quarter of a teaspoonful of pepper.
Stir to a boil. Meanwhile, beat up an egg in a bowl, add a teaspoonful
of cornstarch, and a small cupful of milk, and when these are mixed, a
cupful of the boiling gravy. Beat hard and pour into the pot where is
the rest of the gravy. Bring to a quick boil, take _at once_ from the
fire and pour over the chicken. Cover and let it stand over hot water
three minutes before sending to table.


Smothered Chicken.

The chicken must be split down the back as for broiling, washed well
and wiped dry. Lay it, breast upward, in a baking pan; pour in two cups
of boiling water, in which has been dissolved a heaping tablespoonful
of butter, and cover with another pan turned upside down and fitting
exactly the edges of the lower one. Cook slowly half an hour, lift the
cover and baste plentifully with the butter water in the pan; cover
again and leave for twenty minutes more. Baste again, and yet once more
in another quarter of an hour. Try the chicken with a fork to see if it
is done.

An hour and ten minutes should be enough for a young fowl. Baste the
last time with a tablespoonful of butter; cover and leave in the oven
ten minutes longer before transferring to a hot dish. It should be of a
fine yellow brown all over, but crisped nowhere.

Thicken the gravy with a tablespoonful of browned flour, wet up in a
little water, salt and pepper to taste, boil up once and pour a cupful
over the chicken, the rest into a gravy boat.

There is no more delightful preparation of chicken than this.


Boiled Corn Beef.

Lay in clean cold water for five or six hours when you have washed off
all the salt. Wipe and put it into a pot and cover deep in cold water.
Boil _gently_ twenty-five minutes per pound. When done, take the pot
from the fire and set in the sink with the meat in it, while you make
the sauce.

Strain a large cupful of the liquor into a saucepan and set it over
the fire. Wet a tablespoonful of flour up with cold water, and when
the liquor boils, stir it in with a great spoonful of butter. Beat it
smooth before adding the juice of a lemon. Serve in a gravy-dish. Take
up the beef, letting all the liquor drain from it, and send in on a hot
platter.

(Save the pot-liquor for bean soup.)


Boiled Mutton.

Sew up the leg of mutton in a stout piece of mosquito net or of “cheese
cloth;” lay it in a pot and cover several inches deep with boiling
water. Throw in a tablespoonful of salt, and cook twelve minutes to the
pound. Take up the cloth with the meat in it and dip in _very_ cold
water. Remove the bag and dish the meat.

Before taking up the mutton, make your sauce, using as a base a cupful
of the liquor dipped from the pot. Proceed with this as you did with
the drawn butter sauce for the corned beef, but instead of the lemon
juice, add two tablespoonfuls of capers if you have them. If not, the
same quantity of chopped green pickle.




11

VEGETABLES.


IN attempting to make out under the above heading, a list of receipts,
I have laid down my pen several times in sheer discouragement.
The number and variety of esculents supplied by the American
market-gardener would need for a just mention of each, a treatise
several times larger than our volume. I have, therefore, selected a few
of the vegetables in general use on our tables, and given the simplest
and most approved methods of preparing them.

As a preface I transcribe from “Common Sense in the Household” “RULES
APPLICABLE TO THE COOKING OF ALL VEGETABLES.”

Have them as fresh as possible.

Pick over, wash well, and cut out all decayed parts.

Lay them when peeled in _cold_ water before cooking.

If you boil them put a little salt in the water.

Cook steadily after you put them on.

Be sure they are thoroughly done.

_Drain well._

Serve hot!


Potatoes (boiled).

Pare them thin with a sharp knife. The starch or meal lies, in greatest
quantities, nearest to the skin. Lay in clean cold water for one hour,
if the potatoes are newly gathered. Old potatoes should be left in
the water for several hours. If very old, they will be the better for
soaking all night. New potatoes require half an hour for boiling, and
the skins are rubbed off with a coarse cloth before they are cooked.
Those stored for winter use should be boiled forty-five minutes.

Wipe each dry before dropping them into a kettle of boiling water, in
which has been mixed a heaping tablespoonful of salt.

Boil steadily until a fork will go easily into the largest.

Turn off the water by tipping the pot over on its side in the sink,
holding the top on with a thick cloth wrapped about your hand, and
leaving room at the lowest edge of the cover for the water to escape,
but not for a potato to slip through.

Set the pot uncovered on the range; sprinkle a tablespoonful of salt
over the potatoes, shaking the pot as you do this, and leave it where
they will dry off, but not scorch, for five minutes.


Mashed Potatoes.

Boil as directed in last receipt, and when the potatoes have been dried
off, remove the pot to the sink, or table, break and whip them into
powder with a four-tined fork, or a split spoon. When fine, add a great
spoonful of butter, whipped in thoroughly, salting to taste as you go
on.

Have ready a cup of milk _almost_ boiling, and beat in until the potato
is soft and smooth.

Heap in a deep dish for the table.


Onions (boiled).

Remove the outer layers until you reach the sleek, silvery, crisp
skins. Cook in plenty of boiling, salted water, until tender. Forty
minutes should be sufficient, unless the onions are very old and large.
Turn off all the water; add a cupful from the tea-kettle with one of
warm milk and stew gently ten minutes.

Heat, meanwhile, in a saucepan, half a cupful of milk with a large
tablespoonful of butter.

Drain the onions in a hot _clean_ colander, turn them into a heated
deep dish, salt and pepper lightly, and pour the boiling milk and
butter over them.

Onions cooked thus are not nearly so rank of flavor as when boiled in
but one water.


Tomatoes (stewed).

Put ripe tomatoes into a pan, pour boiling water directly from the
kettle, upon them, and cover closely for five minutes. The skins will
then come off easily.

When all are peeled, cut them up, throwing away the unripe parts and
the cores, and put them into a clean saucepan with half a teaspoonful
of salt.

Stew twenty minutes before adding a heaping tablespoonful of butter,
one teaspoonful of white sugar (for a dozen large tomatoes) and a
little pepper. Stew gently fifteen minutes, and serve.


Scalloped Tomatoes.

Scald, skin, and cut each crosswise, into two or three pieces. _Just_
melt a teaspoonful of butter in a pie-plate, or pudding-dish, and put
into this a layer of tomatoes. Lay a bit of butter on each slice,
sprinkle lightly with salt, pepper, and white sugar, and cover with
fine dry cracker, or bread crumbs. Fill the dish with alternate layers
of tomato crumbs, having a thick coating of crumbs on the top, and
sticking tiny “dabs” of butter all over it.

Bake, covered, half an hour. Take off the tin pan, or whatever you have
used to keep in the steam, and brown nicely before sending to table.


Beets.

Wash well, taking care not to scratch the skin, as they will “bleed”
while in cooking if this is cut or broken.

Cook in boiling water an hour and a half if young, three, four or five
hours as their age increases.

Drain, scrape off the skins, slice quickly with a sharp knife; put into
a vegetable dish, and pour over them a half a cupful of vinegar, with
two tablespoonfuls of butter, heated to boiling, and a little salt and
pepper.

Let them stand three minutes covered in a warm place before serving.


Green Peas.

Shell and leave in very cold water fifteen minutes. Cook in plenty of
boiling, salted water. They should be done in half an hour.

Shake gently in a hot colander to get rid of the water; turn into a
heated deep dish, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and stir in fast and
lightly _with a fork_, two tablespoonfuls of butter.

Eat while hot.


String Beans.

Do not cook these at all unless you are willing to take the trouble of
“stringing” them.

With a small sharp knife cut off the stem and blossom-tips, then trim
away the tough fibres from the sides carefully, and cut each bean into
inch-lengths.

Lay in cold water for half an hour. Cook one hour in salted boiling
water, or until the beans are tender.

Drain, butter and season as you would peas.

String beans half-trimmed and cut into slovenly, unequal lengths are a
vulgar-looking, unpopular dish. Prepared as I have directed, they are
comely, palatable and wholesome.


Squash.

Pare, quarter, take out the seeds, and lay in cold water for half an
hour.

Boil in hot salted water thirty minutes for summer squash; twice as
long if the “Hubbard” or other varieties of winter squash are used.
Take up piece by piece, and squeeze gently in a clean cloth, put back
into the empty dried pot, and mash quickly and smoothly with a wooden
spoon.

Stir in a heaping tablespoonful of butter for one large squash, or two
small ones.

Season with pepper and salt; heat and stir until smoking hot, then dish
and serve.


Cauliflower.

    Trim off leaves and cut the stalk short.

    Lay in ice-cold water for half an hour.

    Tie it up in a bit of white netting.

    Put into a clean pot, cover _deep_ with salted boiling
      water.

    Boil steadily, not hard, one hour and ten minutes.

Before taking it from the fire, put a cupful of boiling water in a
saucepan.

Wet a heaping teaspoonful of corn-starch with cold water, and stir into
the boiling until it thickens. Then add two tablespoonfuls of butter,
and when this is well stirred in, the strained juice of a lemon.

Remove the net from the cauliflower, lay in a deep dish, and pour over
it the drawn butter made by the addition of the lemon juice into _sauce
tartare_.


Egg Plant.

Slice it crosswise, and about an inch thick; lay in strong salt water
for one hour with a plate on the topmost slice to keep it under the
brine.

This will draw out the bitter taste.

Put a cupful of pounded crackers into a flat dish and season with salt
and pepper.

Beat the yolks of two eggs in a shallow bowl. Wipe each slice of the
egg plant _dry_, dip it in the egg, and roll it over and over in the
crumbs. Have ready heated in a frying-pan, some sweet lard, and fry the
vegetables in it to a fine brown.

As each slice is done, lay it in a hot colander set in the open oven,
that every drop of grease may be dried off. Serve on a hot platter.


Spinach.

Wash very carefully, leaf by leaf, to get rid of sand and dust. Lay
in very cold water until you are ready to cook it. Boil forty-five
minutes; drain in a colander and chop _fine_ in a wooden tray. Beat
then three great tablespoonfuls of butter (this for a peck of spinach),
a teaspoonful of white sugar, and half as much salt, with a little
pepper. Whip all to a soft green mass and return to the empty pot.

As you stir it over the fire add a cupful of rich milk—cream, if you
have it—whip up hard and turn into a deep dish.

Cut two hard-boiled eggs into thin slices, and lay in order on the
spinach when dished.




12

DESSERTS.


ENGLISH cooks would call this “A Chapter on Sweets.” “_Dessert_” with
them is usually applied to fruits, nuts, etc. Webster defines the word
thus:

“A service of pastry, fruit or sweetmeats at the close of an
entertainment; the last course at the table after the meat.”

Without dwelling upon the fact that when fruit and coffee are served
they follow pastry or puddings or sweetmeats, we take advantage of the
elastic definition and assume that the dessert of the family dinner is
a single preparation of “sweets.”

The too-universal PIE will not appear on our _menu_. I am tempted to
wish its manufacture might soon be numbered among the lost arts.

Bayard Taylor once said that “If Rum had slain its thousands in
America, Pork-fat (fried) and Pies had slain their ten thousands.”

The average pastry of our beloved land would drive a Patrick Henry to
self-exile if he were obliged to eat it every day. Nor could one of a
dozen inexperienced cooks manipulate puff-paste as it should be handled
in order to be flaky and tender. Dexterity of motion and strength of
wrist are needed for this operation, such as belong only to the trained
cook.

The more wholesome and daintier jellies, custards and trifles, and
plain puddings we have selected from the vast variety of sweet things
known to our housewives, are adapted to the powers of novices in
cookery, and not unworthy the attention of adepts.


Boiled Custard.

This is the base of so many nice “fancy dishes,” and is itself so
excellent and popular that we may properly lay the knowledge how to
prepare it properly as the foundation-stone of dessert making.

    One quart of fresh, sweet milk.

    Five eggs.

    One cup of sugar.

    One quarter teaspoonful of salt.

    One teaspoonful of essence of vanilla, lemon or bitter
      almond.

Heat the milk to a boil in a farina kettle, or in a tin pail set in a
pot of boiling water.

In warm weather put a bit of soda no larger than a pea in the milk.
While it is heating beat the eggs in a bowl. When the milk is scalding,
add the salt and sugar, and pour the hot liquid upon the eggs, stirring
all the while. Beat up well and return to the inner vessel, keeping the
water in the outer at a hard boil. Stir two or three times in the first
five minutes; afterward, almost constantly.

In a quarter of an hour it _ought_ to be done, but of this you can only
judge by close observation and practice.

The color changes from deep to creamy yellow; the consistency to a soft
richness that makes it drop slowly and heavily from the spoon, and the
mixture _tastes_ like a custard instead of uncooked eggs, sugar and
milk.

When you have done it right once, you recognize these signs ever
afterward.

If underdone, the custard will be crude and watery; if overdone, it
will clot or break.

Take it when quite right—just at the turn—directly from the fire, and
pour into a bowl to cool, before flavoring with the essence.

With a good boiled custard as the beginning we can make scores of
delightful desserts. First among these we may place


Cup Custard.

    Fill small glasses nearly to the top with cold custard.

    Whip the whites of three eggs stiff.

    Beat in three teaspoonfuls of bright-colored
      jelly-currant, if you have it.

    Heap a tablespoon of this _méringue_ on the surface of
      each glassful.

    Set in a cold place until it goes to table.


Floating Island.

Fill a glass bowl almost to the top with cold boiled custard and cover
with a _méringue_ made as in last receipt. Do not whip in the jelly so
thoroughly as to color the frothed whites.

It is a prettier dish when the bright red specks just dot the snowy
mass.


Frosted Custard.

Make a nice custard; let it get perfectly cold, and pile on it, instead
of the whipped egg, a large cupful of grated cocoanut, sprinkling it on
carefully, not to disturb the custard.

Eat with sponge cake.


Blanc-mange.

Like custard, this is the base—the central idea, or fact—of numberless
elegant compounds, and is delightful in its simplest form.

    One package of Cooper’s gelatine.

    Three pints of fresh, sweet milk.

    One even cupful of white sugar.

    One half teaspoonful of salt.

    One teaspoonful of vanilla or other essence.

    Soda as large as a pea, put into the milk.

Soak the gelatine three hours in a cupful of cold water. Then heat the
milk (salted) in a farina kettle.

When it is scalding, stir in without taking the vessel from the fire,
the sugar and soaked gelatine. Stir three minutes after it is boiling
hot, and strain through a coarse cloth into a bowl. Let it get almost
cold before adding the flavoring. Wet a clean mould with cold water;
pour in the blanc-mange and set on ice, or in a cold place until firm.

Dip a cloth in hot water, wring until it will not drip, wrap about the
mould, turn bottom upward on a flat dish, and shake gently to dislodge
the contents.

Eat with powdered sugar and cream.


Chocolate Custard.

Five minutes before taking the custard from the fire, add to it three
heaping tablespoonful of grated Baker’s chocolate rubbed to a paste
with a little cold milk. Stir until the mixture is of a rich coffee
color.

Turn out, and when cold, flavor with vanilla and put into glasses.

Whip the whites of three eggs to a smooth _méringue_, beat in three
tablespoonfuls of powdered sugar, and heap upon the brown mixture.


Chocolate Blanc-mange.

(Our French scholars will say that this should be termed
“_Brun-mange_.”)

Mix with the soaked gelatine four heaping tablespoonfuls of Baker’s
chocolate, grated, and stir into the scalding milk, and treat as
above directed. In straining, squeeze the bag hard to extract all the
coloring matter. Flavor with vanilla.


Coffee Blanc-mange.

Soak the gelatine in a cupful of strong, clear black coffee, instead of
the cold water, and proceed as with plain blanc-mange, using no other
flavoring than the coffee.


Tea Blanc-mange

Is made in the same way by substituting for the water very strong,
mixed tea. Eat with powdered sugar and cream.


Pineapple Trifle.

    One package of gelatine.

    Two cups of white sugar.

    One small pineapple, peeled and cut into bits.

    One-half teaspoonful of nutmeg.

    Juice and grated peel of a lemon.

    Three cups of _boiling_ water.

    Whites of four eggs.

    Soak the gelatine four hours in a cup of cold water.

    Put into a bowl with the sugar, nutmeg, lemon-juice,
      and rind and minced pineapple.

Rub the fruit hard into the mixture with a wooden spoon, and let all
stand together, covered, two hours.

Then pour upon it the boiling water and stir until the gelatine is
dissolved.

Line a colander with a double thickness of clean flannel, and strain
the mixture through it, squeezing and wringing the cloth hard, to get
the full flavor of the fruit. Set on ice until cold, but not until it
is hard.

It should be just “jellied” around the edges, when you begin to whip
the whites of the eggs in a bowl set in ice water. When they are quite
stiff, beat in a spoonful at a time the gelatine. Whip a minute after
adding each supply to mix it in perfectly.

Half an hour’s work with the “Dover” will give you a white spongy mass,
pleasing alike to eye and taste.

Wet a mould with cold water, put in the sponge and set on ice until you
are ready to turn it out.

This is a delicious dessert. For pineapple substitute strawberries,
raspberries, or peaches.


A Simple Susan.

    Two cups of fine, dry bread crumbs.

    Three cups of chopped apple.

    One cup of sugar.

    One teaspoonful of mace, and half as much allspice.

    Two teaspoonfuls of butter.

    One tablespoonful of salt.

Butter a pudding-dish and cover the bottom with crumbs. Lay on
these a thick layer of minced apple, sprinkled lightly with salt and
spices—more heavily with sugar. Stick bits of butter over all. Then
more crumbs, going on in this order until all the ingredients are used
up. The top layer should be crumbs. Cover closely, and bake half an
hour. Remove the cover and set on the upper grating of the oven until
nicely browned. Send to table in the dish in which it was baked.


Sauce for the Above.

    Two cupfuls of powdered sugar.

    Two tablespoonfuls of butter.

    Half teaspoonful of mace or nutmeg.

    Juice (strained) of a lemon.

    Two tablespoonfuls of boiling water.

Melt the butter with the hot water and beat in, with egg whisk or
“Dover,” the sugar, a little at a time, until the sauce is like a
cream. Add lemon juice and nutmeg, mould into a mound on a glass dish,
or a deep plate, and set in a cold place until it is firm. This is a
good “hard sauce” for any hot pudding.


Cottage Pudding.

    Two eggs.

    One cup of milk.

    One cup of sugar.

    One tablespoonful of butter.

    Three cups of prepared flour.

    If you have not the prepared, use family flour with two
      tablespoonfuls of baking powder, sifted _twice_ with
      it.

    One tablespoonful of salt.

Put the sugar in a bowl, warm the butter slightly, but do not melt it,
and rub it with a wooden spoon into the sugar until they are thoroughly
mixed together. Beat the eggs light in another bowl, stir in the sugar
and butter, then the milk, the salt, and lastly the flour.

Butter a tin cake mould well, pour in the batter and bake about forty
minutes in a steady oven.

Should it rise very fast, cover the top with white paper as soon as a
crust is formed, to prevent scorching.

When you think it is done stick a clean, dry straw into the thickest
part. If it comes up smooth and not sticky the loaf is ready to be
taken up.

Loosen the edges from the mould with a knife, turn out on a plate, and
send hot to table. Cut with a keen blade into slices, and eat with
pudding sauce.

An easy receipt and one that seldom fails to give general satisfaction.




13

CAKE-MAKING.


NEVER undertake cake unless you are willing to give to the business the
amount of time and labor needed to make it _well_. Materials tossed
together “anyhow” may, once in a great while, come out right, but the
manufacturer has no right to expect this, or to be mortified when the
product is a failure.

Before breaking an egg, or putting butter and sugar together, collect
all your ingredients. Sift the flour and arrange close to your hand,
the bowls, egg-beater, cake-moulds, ready buttered, etc.

Begin by putting the measured sugar into a bowl, and working the
butter into it with a wooden spoon. Warm the butter slightly in cold
weather. Rub and stir until the mixture is as smooth and light, as
cream. Indeed, this process is called “creaming.”

Now, beat the yolks of your eggs light and thick in another bowl; wash
the egg-beater well, wipe dry and let it get cold before whipping the
whites to a standing heap in a third vessel. Keep the eggs cool before
and while you beat them. Add the yolks to the creamed butter and sugar,
beating hard one minute; put in the milk when milk is used, the spices
and flavoring; whip in the whites, and lastly, the sifted and prepared
flour.

Beat _from the bottom_ of the mixing-bowl with a wooden spoon, bringing
it up full and high with each stroke, and as soon as the ingredients
are fairly and smoothly mixed, stop beating, or your cake will be tough.

Let your first attempt be with cup-cake baked in small tins. Learn to
manage your oven well before risking pound or fruit-cake.

Should the dough or batter rise very fast lay white paper over the top,
that this may not harden into a crust before the middle is done. To
ascertain whether the cake is ready to leave the oven, thrust a clean
straw into the thickest part. If it comes out clean, take out the tins
and set them _gently_ on a table or shelf to cool before turning them
upside down on a clean, dry cloth or dish.


A Good Cup-cake.

    One cup of butter.

    Two cups of sugar—powdered.

    Four eggs.

    One cup of sweet milk.

    One teaspoonful of vanilla.

    One half-teaspoonful of mace.

    Three cups of prepared flour, or the same quantity of
      family-flour with one even teaspoonful of soda and
      two of cream-tartar, sifted twice with it.

Two teaspoonfuls of baking powder will serve the same end. Mix as
directed in “Practical Preliminaries,” and bake in small tins.


Jelly-cake

Is made by mixing the above cup-cake, leaving out the flavoring, and
baking it in “jelly-cake tins,” turning these out when almost cold by
running a knife around the edges, and spreading all but that intended
for the top with a thick coating of fruit-jelly. Sift white sugar over
the upper one or frost it.


Cream-cake.

Mix a cup-cake without spice or other flavoring, bake in jelly-cake
tins, and when cold spread between the layers this filling:

    One egg.

    One cup of milk.

    One half cup of sugar.

    Two rounded teaspoonfuls of corn-starch.

    One teaspoonful of vanilla or other essence.

Scald the milk in a farina-kettle; wet the cornstarch with a little
cold milk and stir into that over the fire until it thickens. Have
the egg ready whipped light into a bowl; beat it in the sugar; pour
the thick hot milk upon this, gradually, stirring fast, return to the
kettle and boil (still stirring,) to a thick custard. Let it cool
before seasoning.

Frost the top-cake, or sift powdered sugar over it.


Cocoanut-cake.

Mix and bake as for jelly-cake, flavoring with rose-water.

Whip the whites of three eggs to a stiff froth.

Add one cup of powdered sugar, and two thirds of a grated cocoanut.

When the cakes are cold, spread between the layers.

To the remaining third of the cocoanut add four tablespoonfuls of
powdered sugar, and cover the top of the cake with it.


Apple-cake.

Mix and bake as for jelly-cake, flavoring the dough with essence of
bitter almond.

Beat one egg light in a bowl, and into it a cup of sugar. Add to this
the strained juice and grated rind of a lemon.

Peel and grate three fine pippins or other ripe, tart apples directly
into this mixture, stirring each well in before adding another. When
all are in, put into a farina-kettle and stir over the fire until the
apple-custard is boiling hot and quite thick. Cool and spread between
the cakes. A nice and simple cake. Eat the day it is baked.


Chocolate-cake.

Mix and bake as for jelly-cake, flavoring with vanilla. For filling,
whip the whites of three eggs stiff; stir in one cup and a half of
sugar and four tablespoonfuls of Baker’s Vanilla Chocolate, grated.
Beat hard for two minutes and spread between the layers and on the top
of the cake.


White Cup-cake.

    One cup of butter.

    Two cups of powdered sugar.

    Three cups of prepared flour.

    One cup of sweet milk.

    Whites of five eggs.

    One teaspoonful of essence of bitter almond.

Cream butter and sugar; add milk and beat hard before putting in the
whites of the eggs. Stir in flavoring and, lightly and quickly, the
prepared flour. Bake in small tins.


Frosting for Cake.

    Whites of three eggs.

    Three cups of powdered sugar.

    Strained juice of a lemon.

Put the whites into a _cold_ bowl and add the sugar at once, stirring
it in thoroughly. Then whip with your egg-beater until the mixture is
stiff and white, adding lemon-juice as you go on. Spread thickly over
the cake, and set in the sun, or in a warm room to dry.


White Lemon Cake.

Make “white cup-cake,” bake in jelly cake-tins and let it get cold.
Prepare a frosting as above directed, but use the juice of two lemons
and the grated peel of one. Spread this mixture between the cakes and
on the top.


Sponge Cake.

Do not attempt this until you have had some practice in the management
of ovens, and let your first trial be with what are sometimes termed
“snow-balls,”—that is, small sponge cakes, frosted. Put six eggs into
a scale and ascertain their weight _exactly_. Allow for the sponge
cake the weight of the eggs in sugar, and half their weight in flour.
Grate the yellow peel from a lemon and squeeze the juice upon it. Let
it stand ten minutes, and strain through coarse muslin, pressing out
every drop.

Beat the yolks of the eggs very light and then the sugar into them; the
lemon-juice; the whites, which should have been whipped to a standing
froth;—finally, stir in the sifted flour swiftly and lightly. Bake in
a steady oven from twenty-five to thirty minutes, glancing at them now
and then, to make sure they are not scorching, and covering with white
paper as they harden on top.

This is an easy, and if implicitly obeyed, a sure receipt.


Nice Gingerbread.

    Three eggs.

    One cup of sugar.

    One cup each of molasses, “loppered” or buttermilk, and
      of butter.

    One tablespoonful of ground ginger, a teaspoonful of
      cinnamon, and half as much allspice.

    Four and a half _full_ cups of sifted flour.

    One teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a tablespoonful of
      boiling water.

Put butter, molasses, sugar and spice in a bowl, set in a pan of hot
water and stir with a wooden spoon until they are like brown cream.
Take from the water and add the milk. Beat yolks and whites together
until light in another bowl, and turn the brown mixture gradually in
upon them, keeping the egg-beater going briskly.

When well-mixed, add the soda, at last, the flour. Beat _hard_ three
minutes, and bake in well-buttered pans.


Sugar Cookies.

    Two cups of sugar.

    One cup of butter.

    Three eggs, whites and yolks beaten together.

    _About_ three cups of flour sifted with one teaspoonful
      of baking powder.

    One teaspoonful of nutmeg, and half this quantity of
      cloves.

Cream butter and sugar, beat in the whipped eggs and spice; add a
handful at a time the flour, working it in until the dough is stiff
enough to roll out. Flour your hands well and sprinkle flour over a
pastry-board. Make a ball of the dough, and lay it on the board. Rub
your rolling-pin also with flour and roll out the dough into a sheet
about a quarter of an inch thick.

Cut into round cakes; sift granulated sugar over each and bake quickly.


Ginger Snaps.

    Two cups of molasses.

    One cup of sugar.

    One cup of butter.

    Five cups of flour.

    One heaping teaspoonful of ground ginger, and the same
      quantity of allspice.

Stir molasses, sugar and butter together in a bowl set in hot water,
until _very_ light. Mix in spices and flour, and roll out as directed
in last receipt, but in a thinner sheet. Cut into small cakes and bake
quickly.

All cakes in the composition of which molasses is used, are more apt to
burn than others. Watch your ginger snaps well, but opening the oven as
little as may be.

These spicy and toothsome cakes are better the second day than the
first, and keep well for a week or more.




14

JELLIES, CREAMS AND OTHER FANCY DISHES FOR TEA AND LUNCHEON OR
SUPPER-PARTIES.


THE pleasing custom in many families is to make the daughters
responsible for “fancy cookery.” Mamma turns naturally, when company
is expected, to her young allies for the manufacture of cake, jellies,
blanc-mange, etc., and for the arrangement of fruit and flowers, and
seldom cavils at the manner in which they do the work.

The difference in the appointment of feasts in houses where there are
girls growing up and grown, and in those where there are none, is so
marked that I need not call attention to it.


Lemon or Orange Jelly.

    One package of gelatine soaked in two cups of cold
      water.

    Two and a half cups of sugar.

    Juice of four lemons and grated peel of two (same of
      oranges).

    Three cups of boiling water.

    A quarter-teaspoonful powdered cinnamon.

Soak the gelatine two hours; add lemon juice, grated peel, sugar and
spice, and leave for one hour. Pour on the boiling water, stir until
dissolved, and strain through double flannel. Do not shake or squeeze,
but let the jelly filter clearly through it into a bowl or pitcher set
beneath. Wet moulds in cold water and set aside to cool and harden.


Ribbon Jelly.

Take one third currant jelly, one third lemon jelly, and as much plain
blanc-mange. (_See Desserts._)

When all are cold and begin to form, wet a mould, pour in about a
fourth of the red jelly and set on the ice to harden; keep the rest
in a warm room, or near the fire. So soon as the jelly is firm in the
bottom of the mould, add carefully some of the white blanc-mange, and
return the mould to the ice. When this will bear the weight of more
jelly, add a little of the lemon, and when this forms, another line of
white.

Proceed in this order, dividing the red from the yellow by white, until
the jellies are used up. Leave the mould on ice until you are ready to
turn the jelly out.

A pretty dish, and easily managed if one will have patience to wait
after putting in each layer until it is firm enough not to be disturbed
or muddied by the next supply.


Buttercup Jelly.

    One half package of gelatine soaked in half a cup of
      cold water for two hours.

    Three eggs.

    One pint of milk.

    One heaping cup of sugar.

    One teaspoonful of vanilla.

    Bit of soda the size of a pea stirred into the milk.

Heat the milk to scalding in a farina-kettle and stir in the soaked
gelatine until the latter is dissolved, and strain through a coarse
cloth. Beat the yolks of the eggs light, add the sugar and pour the
boiling mixture gradually upon it, stirring all the time.

Return to the farina-kettle and stir three minutes, or until it begins
to thicken. Let it cool before you flavor it. Whip the white of one egg
stiff, and when the yellow jelly coagulates around the edges, set the
bowl containing the frothed white in cracked ice or in ice-water and
beat the jelly into it, spoonful by spoonful, with the egg-whip, until
it is all in and your sponge thick and smooth. Wet a mould and set it
on the ice to form. Lay about the base when you dish it.


Whipped Cream.

I have been assured by those who have made the experiment, that
excellent whipped cream can be produced, and very quickly, by the use
of our incomparable Dover Egg-beater. I have never tried this, but my
pupils may, if they have not a syllabub-churn.

Put a pint of rich, sweet cream in a pail or other wide-mouthed vessel
with straight sides, and set in ice while you whip or churn it.

As the frothing cream rises to the top, remove it carefully with a
spoon and lay it in a perfectly clean and cold colander, or on a hair
sieve, set over a bowl. If any cream drips from it return to the vessel
in which it is whipped to be beaten over again. When no more froth
rises, whip a tablespoonful of powdered sugar into the white syllabub
in the colander, and it is ready for use.


Swan’s Down Cream.

    One pint of whipped cream.

    Whites of three eggs beaten to a stiff froth.

    One cup of powdered sugar.

    One teaspoonful essence bitter almond.

Just before you are ready to send the dish to table, beat whipped
cream, frothed whites, sugar and flavoring together in a bowl set deep
in cracked ice. Heap in a glass dish and leave in the ice until it is
to be eaten.

Send sponge cake around with it.


Jellied Oranges.

Cut a small round piece from the blossom end of each of six or eight
oranges, and scoop out the pulp very carefully, so as not to widen the
hole, or tear the inside of the fruit. Use your fingers and a small
teaspoon for this purpose until the oranges are empty and clean.

Lay them then in very cold water while you prepare with the pulp and
juice you have taken out, and the grated peel of another orange, half
the quantity of orange-jelly called for by the receipt for lemon jelly.
When it is quite cold, fill the orange-skins with it, and set in a cold
place to harden.

In serving them, cut the oranges cross-wise with a _sharp_ knife and
arrange in a glass dish, the open sides upward. A few orange, lemon,
or japonica leaves to line the edges of the dish, will give a pretty
effect.


Ambrosia.

Peel fine, sweet oranges, and cut into small pieces, extracting the
seeds. Put a layer in a glass dish and sprinkle well with sugar. In
this scatter a thick coating of grated cocoanut, strewing this also
with powdered sugar. Over the cocoanut lay thin slices of bananas,
peeled and cut crosswise. Fill the dish in this order, the top being
covered with banana.

A nice dessert for Sundays and warm afternoons when one dreads the heat
of the stove.


How to make Coffee and Tea.

If you wish to have really strong coffee, allow a cup of freshly-ground
coffee to a quart of boiling water. Put the coffee in a bowl and wet
with half a cup of cold water. Stir in the white and shell of a raw
egg, and turn into a clean, newly-scalded coffee-boiler. Shut down
the top and shake hard up and down half a dozen times before pouring
in the boiling water. Set where it will boil hard, but not run over,
for twenty minutes, draw to the side of the range and check the boil
suddenly by pouring in a third of a cup of cold water. Let it stand
three minutes to settle, and pour off gently into the pot which is to
be set on the table.

Scald the milk to be drunk with coffee, unless you can serve really
rich cream with it.


Tea.

FIRST RULE. The water should boil.

SECOND RULE. The water in which the tea is steeped, must be boiling.

THIRD RULE. The water used for filling the pot must be boiling.

I speak within bounds when I say that I could tell on the fingers of my
two hands the tables at which I have drunk really good, hot, fresh tea.
Sometimes it is made with boiling water, then allowed to simmer on the
range or hob until the decoction is rank, reedy and bitter. Sometimes
too little tea is put in, and the beverage, while hot enough, is but
faintly colored and flavored.

Oftenest of all, the tea is made with unboiled water, or with water
that did boil once, but is now flat and many degrees below the point of
ebullition.

Scald the china, or silver, or tin teapot from which the beverage is
to flow directly into the cups; put in an even teaspoonful of tea for
each person who is to partake of it, pour in a half-cup of boiling
water and cover the pot with a cozy or napkin for five minutes. Then,
fill up with boiling _water from the kettle_ and take to the table.
Fill the cups within three minutes or so and you have the fresh aroma
of the delicious herb.




INDEX.


    BREADS.

    Bread Sponge                                              16
    Breakfast Biscuits                                        23
    Crumpets                                                  30
    English Muffins                                           28
    First Loaf, The                                           11
    Graham Bread                                              19
    Graham Rolls                                              23
    Graham Cakes                                              40
    Griddle Cakes                                             37
    Hominy Cakes                                              39
    Quick Biscuits                                            35
    Quick Muffins                                             31
    Sally Lunn                                                33
    Sour Milk Cakes                                           38
    Tea Rolls                                                 21


    CAKE.

    Apple Cake                                               136
    Cup-cake                                                 133
    Cream-cake                                               134
    Cocoanut-cake                                            135
    Chocolate-cake                                           136
    Gingerbread                                              139
    Ginger Snaps                                             141
    Jelly-cake                                               134
    Sponge Cake                                              138
    Sugar Cookies                                            140
    White Cup-cake                                           137
    White Lemon Cake                                         138
    Frosting for Cake                                        137


    DESSERTS.

    Blanc-mange                                              123
    Blanc-mange, Chocolate                                   124
    Blanc-mange, Coffee                                      125
    Blanc-mange, Tea                                         125
    Cup Custard                                              121
    Custard, boiled                                          119
    Chocolate Custard                                        124
    Custard, frosted                                         122
    Cottage Pudding                                          129
    Floating Island                                          122
    Pineapple Trifle                                         125
    Simple Susan                                             127


    EGGS.

    Boiled Eggs                                               42
    Bacon and Eggs                                            48
    Baked Eggs                                                49
    Custard Eggs                                              44
    Dropped Eggs with white Sauce                             51
    Eggs on Toast                                             45
    Eggs on Savory Toast                                      49
    Omelette                                                  25
    Poached, or Dropped Eggs                                  44
    Scrambled or Stirred Eggs                                 46
    Scalloped Eggs                                            50


    JELLIES, CREAMS AND OTHER FANCY DISHES.

    Ambrosia                                                 149
    Jelly, Buttercup                                         145
    Jelly, Lemon                                             144
    Jelly, Ribbon                                            148
    Jellied Oranges                                          144
    Cream, Whipped                                           147
    Cream, Swan’s Down                                       148


    MEATS.

    Beefsteak                                                 55
    Beef Croquettes                                           73
    Beef, Roast                                               95
    Boiled Corned Beef                                       105
    Breakfast Stew                                            66
    Chicken Croquettes                                        79
    Chicken, Turkey or Duck, Roast                           101
    Chicken, Fricasseed                                      102
    Chicken Smothered                                        103
    Fish Balls                                                64
    Ham, Broiled                                              59
    Ham Deviled, or Barbecued                                 78
    Hash                                                      71
    Hash Cakes                                                72
    Lamb, Roast                                              100
    Liver, Larded                                             60
    Mutton or Lamb Chops                                      58
    Mutton, Boiled                                           105
    Mutton, Deviled                                           77
    Minced Mutton on Toast                                    75
    Mutton, Roast                                             99
    Mutton Stew                                               74
    Sausage Cakes                                             63
    Smothered Sausage                                         63
    Veal Cutlets                                              61
    Veal Roast                                               100
    Gravy, Brown                                              98
    Mint Sauce                                               100


    SOUPS.

    Soup Stock                                                83
    Bean Soup                                                 91
    Chicken Soup                                              90
    Clear Soup with Sago or Tapioca                           85
    Julienne Soup                                             87
    Soup Maigre (without meat)                                92
    Tomato Soup                                               90
    White Chicken Soup                                        88


    TEA AND COFFEE, HOW TO MAKE.

    Coffee                                                   150
    Tea                                                      151

    VEGETABLES.

    Beets                                                    112
    Cauliflower                                              115
    Egg Plant                                                116
    Green Peas                                               113
    Onions, boiled                                           110
    Potatoes, boiled                                         108
    Potatoes, mashed                                         109
    Squash                                                   114
    String Beans                                             113
    Spinach                                                  117
    Tomatoes, Stewed                                         111
    Tomatoes, Scalloped                                      111




D. LOTHROP COMPANY’S SELECT LIST OF BOOKS.



ALLEN (Willis Boyd).


PINE CONES. 12mo, illustrated, 1.00.

“Pine Cones sketches the adventures of a dozen wide-awake boys and
girls in the woods, along the streams and over the mountains. It is
good, wholesome reading that will make boys nobler and girls gentler.
It has nothing of the over-goody flavor, but they are simply honest,
live, healthy young folks, with warm blood in their veins and good
impulses in their hearts, and are out for a good time. It will make
old blood run warmer and revive old times to hear them whoop and see
them scamper. No man or woman has a right to grow too old to enjoy
seeing the young enjoy the spring days of life. It is a breezy, joyous,
entertaining book, and we commend it to our young readers.”—_Chicago
Inter-Ocean._


SILVER RAGS, 12mo, illustrated, 1.00.

“Silver Rags is a continuation of Pine Cones and is quite as delightful
reading as its predecessor. The story describes a jolly vacation in
Maine, and the sayings and doings of the city boys and girls are
varied by short stories, supposed to be told by a good-natured ‘Uncle
Will.’”—_The Watchman_, Boston.

“Mr. Willis Boyd Allen is one of our finest writers of juvenile
fiction. There is an open frankness in Mr. Allen’s characters which
render them quite as novel as they are interesting, and his simplicity
of style makes the whole story as fresh and breezy as the pine woods
themselves.”—_Boston Herald._


THE NORTHERN CROSS. 12mo, illustrated, 1.00.

“The Northern Cross, a story of the Boston Latin School by Willis
Boyd Allen, is a capital book for boys. Beginning with a drill upon
Boston Common, the book continues with many incidents of school life.
There are recitations, with their successes and failures, drills and
exhibitions. Over all is Dr. Francis Gardner, the stern, eccentric,
warm-hearted Head Master, whom once to meet was to remember forever!
The idea of the Northern Cross for young crusaders gives an imaginary
tinge to the healthy realism.”—_Boston Journal._

“Mr. Willis Boyd Allen appeals to a large audience when he tells a
story of the Boston Latin School in the last year of Master Gardner’s
life. And even to those who never had the privilege of studying there
the story is pleasant and lively.”—_Boston Post._


KELP: A Story of the Isle of Shoals. 12mo, illustrated, 1.00.

This is the latest of the Pine Cone Series and introduces the same
characters. Their adventures are now on a lonely little island, one of
the Shoals, where they camp out and have a glorious time not unmarked
by certain perilous episodes which heighten the interest of the story.
It is really the best of a series of which all are delightful reading
for young people.

“It is a healthful, clean, bright book, which will make the blood
course healthfully through the veins of young readers.”—_Chicago
Inter-Ocean._



ANAGNOS (Julia R.).


PHILOSOPHIÆ QUÆSTOR; or, Days at Concord. 12mo, 60 cents.

In this unique book, Mrs. Julia R. Anagnos, one of the accomplished
daughters of Julia Ward Howe, presents, under cover of a pleasing
narrative, a sketch of the Emerson session of the Concord School of
Philosophy. It has for its frontispiece an excellent picture of the
building occupied by this renowned school.

“The seeker of philosophical truth, who is described as the shadowy
figure of a young girl, is throughout very expressive of desire and
appreciation. The impressions she receives are those to which such
a condition are most sensitive—the higher and more refined ones—and
the responsive thoughts concern the nature and character of what is
heard or felt. Mrs. Anagnos has written a prose poem, in which the
last two sessions of the Concord School of Philosophy, which include
that in memory of Emerson, and its lecturers excite her feelings and
inspire her thought. It is sung in lofty strains that resemble those
of the sacred woods and fount, and themselves are communicative of
their spirit. It will be welcomed as an appropriate souvenir.”—_Boston
Globe._


KNIGHT (Charles).


KNOWLEDGE IS POWER, 12mo, 1.50. (3)

“The author discusses in a clear and masterly way the relation between
capital and labor, the duties of employer and employed, and the great
advantage to each that a thorough knowledge of their work gives, and
urges a broader culture for all classes.”—_St. Joseph Gazette._



KNIGHT (Mrs. S. G.).


NED HARWOOD’S VISIT TO JERUSALEM. 4to, boards, illustrated, 1.25.
_Library Edition_, 12mo, cloth, 1.25.

The travellers were in no hurry. They spent much time in the places
associated with Christ’s ministry and in the former homes of the
patriarchs and prophets. The book is of especial value to Sunday-school
teachers and scholars, because of the light it throws upon many
difficult Scripture passages by its vivid descriptions. The manuscript
was approved by Rev. Selah Merrill, D. D., for many years U. S. Consul
at Jerusalem. The strictest accuracy has thus been secured without
impairing the interest of the story. Cover in colors from original
design.

“The pictures of buildings and scenery are worth the price of the
book.”—_Woman’s Journal._

“It tells about just the things that would interest a boy in the Holy
Land.”—_Union Signal._



KOKHANOVSKY (Madame).


RUSTY LINCHPIN and LUBOFF ARCHIPOVNA.

Translated from the Russian by M. M. S. and J. L. E. 12mo, 1.25.

“Here are two exquisite idyls of Russian rural life. Innocent and
ingenuous, ignorant of the falsity and fever of fashionable life, they
have the freshness and simplicity of a good child. The local coloring
adds to their bright cheerfulness, and the honest, kindly characters
move us to a devout thankfulness.”—_Christian Union_, N. Y.

“They bring us very close to that strange civilization which has lately
become so fascinating to Western readers, and help us to realize how
truly the aims and the emotions of common life are the same under all
garbs and in all lands.”—_Chicago Dial._

“Of a number of works of fiction translated from the Russian within a
year or two, no book, as a whole, is so purely reflective of Russian
domestic life, or so sweet in tone as ‘The Rusty Linchpin.’”—_Boston
Globe._



LAMB (Charles).

“Seeking his materials for the most part in the common paths of
life—often in the humblest—he gives an importance to everything and
sheds a grace over all.”—THOMAS NOON TALFOURD.


A DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG. Small quarto, illustrated, 1.00.

A separate issue of the humorous masterpiece of Lamb, “the frolic
and the gentle.” Printed on heavy paper, in clear, large type,
characteristically illustrated by L. J. Bridgman.

“A little holiday book, the outside of which is in admirable harmony
with what it contains. The dissertation is one of those charming
literary trifles, whose lightness and brightness will always keep it
popular.”—_Boston Transcript._


ADAMS (Emily).


SIX MONTHS AT MRS. PRIOR’S. Illustrated. 12mo, 1.00 (4)

“A widow, with scanty means, makes a home happy for a group of
children. The mother’s love holds them, her thrift cares for them, her
firmness restrains, and her Christian words and life win them to noble
aims and living. The influence of the Christian household is widely
felt, and the quiet transforming leaven works in many homes.”—_The
United Presbyterian._



ADAMS (Dr. Nehemiah).

12 vols., 12mo.

It is the charm of Dr. Adams’ style that truth, fitted by its
profoundness to the most thoughtful hearers, is made clear to the most
illiterate. Few men have adorned the American pulpit with a broader
reach in adaptation to different classes of mind.

    CROSS IN THE CELL, 1.00.
    CHRIST A FRIEND, 1.00.
    AGNES AND THE LITTLE KEY, 1.00.
    EVENINGS WITH THE DOCTRINES, 1.00.
    UNDER THE MIZZENMAST, 1.25.
    AT EVENTIDE, 1.25.
    BERTHA, 1.00.
    FRIENDS OF CHRIST, 1.00.
    ENDLESS PUNISHMENT, 1.00.
    COMMUNION SABBATH, 1.25.
    CATHERINE, 1.00.
    BROADCAST, 1.00.



ADAMS (Oscar Fay). (See also “Through the Year with the Poets.”)


POST-LAUREATE IDYLS AND OTHER POEMS. 16mo, cloth, gilt top, 1.00;
vegetable parchment, 1.50.

The Post-Laureate Idyls are ten parodies of Tennyson’s “Idyls of the
King” whose themes are taken from Mother Goose Melodies. The Other
Poems are “A Tale of Tuscany,” “The Legend of the Golden Lotus,”
fifteen lyrics and eight sonnets.

“The dexterity and cleverness with which Mr. Adams has made the old
rhymes serve his turn is amazing. The humor is delicate and unfailing
throughout, while the verse is smooth and flowing, with graceful and
liquid cadence. Mr. Adams is too truly a poet, however, to deal in pure
burlesque, and there runs through all the pleasantry of these pages a
touch of sadness, like the echo of the pain of the lays they travesty.
They could not be better done. The lyrics and sonnets which end the
volume are marked by sweetness and delicacy.”—ARLO BATES in _Boston
Courier_.

“He is a poet of high aims and conscientious execution.”—_New York
Nation._

“Post-Laureate Idyls and Other Poems is a book of genuine poetic spirit
and almost flawless workmanship.”—_Boston Advertiser._

“Witty, quaint, charming ... the best things I can think of in the line
of respectful parody.”—MRS. LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.

“There are dozens of passages which would impose upon the sharpest
members of any Tennysonian club, so like they are to the style and
expression of the master.”—_Boston Transcript._



ADAMS (Robert C.).

    HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN RHYME. 16mo, .50.
    ON BOARD THE ROCKET.[A] 12mo, 1.00. (3)
    HISTORY OF THE U. S. IN RHYME. 16mo, .50.

[A] A series of blue water yarns, spun by an old sailor, who makes as
effective use of the pen—as the mate of a Liverpool liner, in the days
when sails ruled—did of the belaying pin.


BATES (Clara Doty).


ÆSOP’S FABLES (Versified). With 72 full-page illustrations by Garrett,
Lungren, Sweeney, Barnes and Hassam. Quarto cloth, 1.50. (4)

“Mrs. Bates has turned the wit and wisdom in a dozen of Æsop’s Fables
into jolly rhythmical narratives, whose good humor will be appreciated
by wide-awake young people.”—_Boston Journal._

“The illustrations introduce all classes of subjects, and are original
and superior work.”—_Boston Globe._


BLIND JAKEY. Illustrated, 16mo, .50. (5)


HEART’S CONTENT. 12mo, 1.25.


See Child Lore (Clara Doty Bates, editor).



BATES (Katherine Lee).


SUNSHINE. Oblong 32mo, illustrated by W. L. Taylor, .50.

A little poem, in which the wild flowers and sunshine play their part
in driving away the bad temper of a little lass who had hidden away in
the grass in a fit of sulks.


SANTA CLAUS RIDDLE. A Poem. Square 12mo, illustrated in colors, paper,
.35.


See Wedding-Day Book (Katherine Lee Bates, editor).



BEDSIDE POETRY.

Edited by Wendell P. Garrison. 16mo, plain cloth, .75; fancy cloth,
1.00.

This collection is for the home, and for a particular season. “Few
fathers and mothers,” says Mr. Garrison, “appreciate the peculiar value
of the bedtime hour for confirming filial and parental affection, and
for conveying reproof to ears never so attentive or resistless. Words
said then sink deep, and the reading of poetry of a high moral tone
and, at the same time, of an attractive character, is apt to plant seed
which will bear good fruit in the future.”

“There is seldom a compilation of verse at once so wisely limited and
so well extended, so choice in character and so fine in quality as
Bedside Poetry, edited by Wendell P. Garrison. He has chosen four-score
pieces ‘of a rather high order, the remembrance of which will be a joy
forever and a potent factor in the formation not merely of character
but of literary taste.’ Therefore he has given Emerson and Cowper,
Wordsworth, Leigh Hunt, Shelley, Southey, Coleridge, William Blake,
Burns, Thackeray, Lowell, Tennyson, Shakespeare, Mrs. Hemans, Mrs.
Kemble, Holmes, Whittier and Arthur Hugh Clough. We find cheer and
courage, truth and fortitude, purity and humor, and all the great
positive virtues, put convincingly in these selections.”—_Springfield
Republican._



BELL (Mrs. Lucia Chase).


TRUE BLUE. 12mo, 10 illustrations by Merrill, 1.25. (5)

The scene is laid in the far West, and the incidents are such as could
only occur in a newly developed country, where even children are taught
to depend upon themselves.

“Doe, the warm-hearted, impulsive heroine of the story, is an original
character, and one whose ways are well worth copying by those who read
her adventures and experiences.”—_Detroit Post._


DAVIS (M. E. M.).


IN WAR-TIMES AT LA ROSE BLANCHE, 12mo, illustrations by Kemble, 1.25.

“‘In War-Times at La Rose Blanche,’ by M. E. M. Davis, is one of those
charming books so naturally written that the reader feels as if he
himself had lived its scenes, had heard the little ‘Cunnel’s vally’
ask, ‘Marse Jim, has you seen marster?’ had watched the fortunes of the
dish-rag bonnet, had seen the four lads with their bran-new uniforms
start proudly off for the War, and seen them thin and ragged return
to feast off ‘po’ souls.’ It has always seemed to us that a book like
this, with its sketchy tender touches here and there of humor, joy and
grief, is far more ‘realistic’ than a novel.”—_Critic_, N. Y.

“The whole book in its truth and tenderness is like one of its own
pictures—a morning-glory growing on a soldier-boy’s grave.”—_New York
Nation._

“The author writes with a graceful pen, with a sweet, half-humorous
simplicity and lightness of touch that makes the work a constant
delight. And the feeling is so true, the humor so bright, the pathos
so appealing, though never insistent, that the book is almost
perfection.”—_Boston Advertiser._

“The really good book of Southern war stories for children waited until
it appeared in the shape of ‘In War-Times.’ It is all there; it is all
in the little book with its twelve stories, some gay and some sad, and
its delightful tale of doll-housekeeping, and if there be any child,
or, indeed, any older reader who will not cry over the ‘Cunnel’s Vally’
let North and South both reject him. ‘’Twas a long, long time on de
way’ but ‘La Rose Blanche’ means that the good time for the children is
here and that the Southern side of the war story is going to be written
for them.”—_Boston Herald._

“The most charming description of child-life in the South that has yet
been published.”—_Golden Rule._

“Full of quaint negro dialect of which Mrs. Davis is master.”—_New
Orleans Picayune._



DAWES (Anna Laurens).


HOW WE ARE GOVERNED. 12mo, 1.50.

The object of this useful work is fully explained by the title; the
constitution is given in full, and then each clause is taken up
separately and explained in such a clear, interesting way, that any one
in search of this kind of information will take pleasure in reading it.

“Her description is admirably clear, lucid and intelligible. She has
that peculiar power of clear-cut statement which, in an instructor,
whether he wields the pen or sits in the professor’s chair, is the
first and fundamental, as it is the rarest, qualification for success.
In this respect her style reminds us of that of Mr. Nordhoff or of the
late Jacob Abbott.”—_Christian Union._

“It is not easy to name a book that explains the workings of our system
more intelligently and impartially than this.”—_Cincinnati Commercial
Gazette._


THE MODERN JEW: His Present and Future. 16mo paper, .25; cloth, .50.



DAWES (Mrs. S. E.).


ETHEL’S YEAR AT ASHTON. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25.

“‘Ethel’s Year at Ashton’ is full of vivacity and vigor which are
necessary for an interesting story, and pervaded with true Christian
love that gives it value. A young girl comes into a farmer’s family,
provided only with the motto, ‘Seek daily opportunities of doing good,’
and a sweet affectionate nature to carry out the motto. Her influence
upon a narrow household, in which darning and earning are the chief
aims, is developed with much good taste and feeling. A literary club
and other means of improvement make a new place of the little country
village. Besides the incidents told naturally and vividly, the story
contains many well-drawn characters.”—_Boston Journal._


EASTMAN (Julia A.).

Miss Eastman has a large circle of young admirers. She carries off
the palm as a writer of school-life stories, and teachers are always
glad to find their scholars reading Miss Eastman’s books. Her style is
characterized by quick movements, sparkling expression and incisive
knowledge of human nature.


KITTY KENT’S TROUBLES. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25. (5)

“Miss Eastman, it will be remembered, took the prize of one thousand
dollars offered several years ago by this house. The heroine of the
present book is the daughter of a clergyman, ‘a girl who was neither
all good nor all bad, but partly the one and partly the other’; and the
narrative of her trials and experiences is intended as a guide and help
to other girls who have those of the same kind to contend with, and
to impress upon them the lesson that ‘the only road to happiness lies
through the land of goodness.’”—_N. E. Journal of Education._


STRIKING FOR THE RIGHT. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25. (3)

A story illustrating the necessity of kindness to animals. The pupils
of the Eastford High School form a humane society which does a noble
work.

A Premium of $1000 was awarded the author for this MS. by the examining
committee.


SHORT COMINGS AND LONG GOINGS. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25.

The ups and downs of wide-awake boy and girl life in a country home.


SCHOOLDAYS OF BEULAH ROMNEY. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25. (5)

An aged Christian woman befriends a dozen careless schoolgirls and
helps them out of the many troubles that invade their lives.


YOUNG RICK. 12mo, 12 full-page illustrations by Sol Eytinge, Jr., 1.25.
(5)

Young Rick was a genuine boy, mischievous and motherless. Aunt Lesbia,
with whom he lived, was not used to children and found it no easy task
to look after him. In the end, however, her kindness and good sense
made a man of him.


THE ROMNEYS OF RIDGEMONT. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25. (5)

A story of the New England hills; of sugaring and haymow conferences
and old fashioned picnics.



EASY READING.

Chromo on side. Numerous illustrations, 6 vols., 18mo, 1.50.

    EASY READING.
    BIRDS AND FISHES.
    BOOK OF ANIMALS.
    NATURAL HISTORY.
    ILLUSTRATED PRIMER.
    BOOK OF BIRDS.


BANVARD (Joseph, D. D.).


LIFE AND CHARACTER OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 12mo, 1.25. (5)

“Daniel Webster is just beginning to be appreciated for what he really
was—the greatest American statesman. His whole life was a battle for
the Union. He did more than any other one man for its preservation, and
his reward was insults and curses. But time rights all things and it
will right this wrong.”

This volume traces the statesman’s career through all its vicissitudes
showing what relation each and every act bore to his symmetrical life
as a whole.


STORIES OF AMERICAN HISTORY. Illustrated, 12mo, 1.00 each. (4)

    SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS OF THE REVOLUTION.
    SOUTHERN EXPLORERS AND COLONISTS.
    PIONEERS OF THE NEW WORLD.
    PLYMOUTH AND THE PILGRIMS.
    FIRST EXPLORERS OF NORTH AMERICA.



BARRETT (Mary).


WILLIAM THE SILENT, AND THE NETHERLAND WAR. With maps and engravings.
12mo, 1.25. (5)

“It describes in a clear and forcible style the record of events which
preceded in the Netherlands the birth and growth of the Dutch Republic,
and forms an excellent introduction to young and old for the study of
Motley’s great work.”—_Cincinnati Courier._



BARROWS (Wm., D. D.).


THE INDIAN’S SIDE OF THE INDIAN QUESTION. 12mo, 1.00.

“Presents the Indian’s Side of the Indian Question with admirable
cogency and simplicity. The volume is interesting alike in its
presentation of facts and its discussion of methods and is suggestive
in its bearing upon the obligations of Christians and philanthropists
in view of the conditions of the Dawes severalty law.”—_Boston Journal._

“This is Indian History with a purpose. The book is a means of
intelligence on a question, which within a year has taken on so new a
phase that it needs to be studied anew, and this volume is the readiest
means of information we know of.”—_American Magazine_, N. Y.



BARTLETT (Geo. B.).


CONCORD: Historic, Literary and Picturesque. 12mo, illustrated, cloth,
1.00; paper, .50.

“‘Concord,’ which answers the thousand and one questions strangers and
visitors have to ask about the town, has been written by Mr. G. B.
Bartlett, one of its citizens. The book is very tastefully designed and
prettily illustrated, and is both attractive and interesting, giving
the reader a view of the town and of the localities which have become
famous through association, and reciting the particulars of what may
be called its literary history. The following is an outline of the
contents: A Glance at the History of the Town; The First Church and
the Pastors; The Old Graveyard and its Curious Inscriptions; Sleepy
Hollow; The Graves of Hawthorne, Thoreau and others; The Battle-Ground,
and Accounts of the Fight, by Rev. W. Emerson, Dr. Ripley and Lemuel
Shattuck; Houses of Historical Interest which were Built before 1775;
Houses of Literary Interest; The Library; The Monuments; Various
Organizations and their Founders; The Concord Grape; The Clubs;
French’s Studio, and His Bust of Emerson; Walden Pond; The Museum of
Antique Curiosities; The Rivers and their Surroundings; The School of
Philosophy, etc., etc. The pictures include views of most of these
scenes.”—_Literary World_, Boston.

“One of the most valuable additions to the library, and greatest aid
to the visitor who may turn his footsteps toward the most intellectual
village in America.”—_Rochester Herald._


ARNOLD (Edwin).

Oliver Wendell Holmes says of his poetry: “It is full of variety,
now picturesque, now pathetic, now rising into the noblest realms
of thought and aspiration; it finds language penetrating, fluent,
elevated, impassioned, musical, always to clothe its varied thoughts
and sentiments.”


EDWIN ARNOLD BIRTHDAY BOOK. Edited by the Poet’s daughters. 24mo, gilt
edges, 1.25; morocco, 2.50; seal, 2.50.

It contains an autograph introductory poem by Edwin Arnold, and choice
quotations from his poems for every day. The many admirers of the
“Light of Asia” will gladly welcome this graceful souvenir of the
author, which is handsomely illustrated and daintily finished. Mr.
Arnold contributes an original Poem for each month.



ART FOR YOUNG FOLKS.

Square 8vo, illustrated, tinted edges, boards, 1.50; cloth, gilt edges,
2.25.

Familiar instructions for young artists, how to get materials, etc.,
and the story of the visit of two New York boys to the water-color
exhibition, by Lizzie W. Champney. Also the biographies of twenty-four
American artists, by S. G. W. Benjamin. All very fully and finely
illustrated. An art education in itself.



ARTHUR (Clara M.).


CHERRY-BLOOMS OF YEDDO. Illustrated, 12mo, 1.00; full gilt, 1.25.

“The Cherry-Blooms of Yeddo fall upon us in the form of a snow-shower
of flowers and petals of genuine poetry. A half dozen of the thirty or
more poems cast a mystic glow upon native and missionary life in Japan.
‘The Baptism’ and ‘Easter’ are exquisitely touching, and illustrative
of Christ’s conquest over the pagan heart, and of the sad but
silver-edged experience of the missionary who comes back to home-land
bereft, but not with Naomi’s hopeless and rebellious grief.”—_Christian
Intelligencer_, New York.

“There is about them all a simplicity and naturalness, the fragrance
of fern and flower, of meadow and woodland, combined with a delicate
finish in rhyme and measure, which evinces the touch of the true
interpreter of the hidden mysteries in art and nature.”—_Watchman_,
Boston.


ETCHINGS FROM TWO LANDS. 12mo, 1.00.

“The two lands are America and Japan, much the larger part of the
volume being given to Japan. The sketches are descriptive and
narrative, giving graphic views of Japan and the Japanese, with notices
of missionary work, such as read by the friends of missions, will feed
the interest already felt in them.”—_Watchman_, Boston.



ARTIST GALLERY SERIES.

18mo, parchment paper, each 1.00. (3)

Seven little books not necessarily connected; made to be looked at
rather than read. Each book devoted to an artist; with the briefest
possible sketch of his life; with portrait and several examples of
their most famous and representative paintings, all in photogravure.

    MILLIAS.
    ROSA BONHEUR.
    LANDSEER.
    ALMA-TADEMA.
    BOUGUEREAU.
    MILLET.
    SIR FREDERICK LEIGHTON.


BAILY (Rev. Thomas L.).


POSSIBILITIES. 12mo, 1.25.

The author gives at the opening the picture of a country village school
which, through lack of tact and knowledge on the part of teachers and
of interest on the part of parents, had become almost worthless. A new
teacher, with a mind and method of her own, is engaged for a term, and
she sets at work with a determination to revolutionize the existing
condition of things. It requires a good deal of tact and management
to enlist parents and pupils in her plans, but she does it by quiet
persistence, and the end of the term sees not only a remarkable change
in the school, but in the village itself.

“As a general rule novels with a purpose are dry reading.
There are brilliant exceptions, however, and one of these is
‘Possibilities.’”—_Albany Argus._


ONLY ME. 12mo, 1.25.

“We are taken back to the days when the watchman made his nightly
rounds to call the hour and the state of the weather. On his return
from one of these rounds on a snowy night, a good-hearted watchman
finds a little fellow half starved and half frozen, crouched against
the little sentry-box in which he himself found shelter between his
rounds. The boy is taken home by the watchman, and the story follows
him through early years and through his experience as bound boy on
a farm, and his subsequent starting in life in a store in the city
where he rises to be confidential clerk and at last partner in the
firm.”—_National Baptist_, Phila.



BAKER (Ella M.).


CLOVER LEAVES: A collection of Poems. Compiled and arranged by K. G. B.
12mo, cloth, 1.00; gilt edges, 1.25.

A Brief memoir tells the story of the short life of the young poet.

“The author of these poems was possessed of the rarest loveliness of
person and character, and she has left behind her a memory fragrant
with blessing. Her verse was the natural outcome of her beautiful
soul; its exceeding delicacy and sweetness are sufficient to charm all
who have the answering sentiment to which it appeals.”—_Springfield
Republican._

“One rises from the perusal of these poems with the feeling of having
been brought very near to a Christian woman’s heart, and of having
caught the utterances of a truly devout spirit.”—_Morning Star._


SOLDIER AND SERVANT. 12mo, 1.25.

“A pretty and helpful story of girl life. Six or seven girls band
themselves together to cultivate their talents in the best possible
manner, and to let their light shine whenever and wherever they can.
The girls vary greatly, but each one is determined to do her best with
the material that the Lord has given her. Their several successes and
failures are told, and many lessons are drawn from their work.”—_Golden
Rule_, Boston.

“The book is remarkably entertaining, sensible and spiritually
stimulating. It is the best book of the kind that we have seen in many
months.”—_Congregationalist._


SEVEN EASTER LILIES. 12mo, 1.25.

A story for girls, pure, sweet, and full of encouragement, and
calculated to exert a strong influence for good. The author feels that
there is something peculiarly sacred and tender about Easter lilies,
partly, perhaps, from their association with the day and season whose
name they bear. The story tells what became of seven lilies which were
tended by as many different hands in different homes, and how they
affected those homes by the silent lessons they taught.


CHRISTMAS PIE STORIES. 12mo, illustrated, 1.25.

Never was such a Christmas pie before, nor such plums! Not one,
but seven Jack Horner pulled out of that pie, and every plum was a
Christmas story told by each member of the family from grandma down.
The wonderful pie lost nothing in being warmed over for Aunt Moneywort
who was too ill to be at the feast.


BABYLAND.


BOUND VOLUMES. Edited by Charles Stuart Pratt and Ella Farman Pratt.
Square 8vo, boards, each .75; cloth, 1.00.

This is the one magazine in the world that combines the best amusement
for babies and the best help for mothers. Dainty stories, tender poems,
gay jingles, pictures beautiful; pictures funny. Large type, heavy
paper, pretty cover. 50 cents a year.

“The publishers, from long experience, have come to understand pretty
accurately what the babies like to look at in the way of pictures, and
what they like to have read to them in the way of stories. And that is
why Babyland is what it is, and why it appeals so strongly to little
eyes and little ears.”—_Boston Transcript._

“A handsome illustrated book. The illustrations are as artistic as if
made for older and more critical readers. We have got away from the old
idea that anything is good enough for children and now demand for them
the best in art and literature. That is the best way to educate them
into the best.”—_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

“It is filled with good things that will make the children merrier and
happier.”—_Philadelphia Star._

“What a help and blessing for the tired mother.”—_Farm, Field and
Stockman_, Chicago.



BAINBRIDGE (Lucy S.).


ROUND THE WORLD LETTERS. 12mo, illustrated, 1.50.

“Mrs. Bainbridge’s work is a book for all classes of readers, young or
old, serious or gay. The reader will never forget that his cicerone
“round the world” is a Christian woman, while such is the charm of her
style every reader is fascinated. The book is a brilliant photograph
of the experiences and observations of an intelligent woman in such a
variety of scenes as such a tour as she made implies. The writer is
a keen observer, and has had exceptional facilities for intelligent
observation. The reader will feel that he has gained a wonderfully
clear notion of the whole living and breathing world, while yet he has
been fascinated and entertained as few romances could do it.”—_The
Watchman._



BAINBRIDGE (W. F.)


AROUND THE WORLD TOUR OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 8vo, illustrated with
maps, 2.00.

“A universal survey of home and foreign evangelization, compiled from
personal study upon the field of many lands and from conference with
over a thousand missionaries. Several maps locate all leading mission
stations of all denominations of all Protestant lands.... No work in
this line, so complete and so reliable has ever been published in
America, England or Europe.”—_Golden Rule_, Boston.


SELF-GIVING. 12mo, illustrated, 1.50.

A story of Christian missions.

“The growth of missionary spirit, the strength of character by
overcoming difficulties, the glory of consecration, the beauty of
sacrifice, the blessed results of intelligent work, run through the
fiction like bright streams through flowery meadows, and like reptiles
among flowers, we see in midst of sacrifices the repulsive spirit
of the world and selfishness among missionaries, in self-seeking
secretaries, in adventurers under cloak of missionary zeal, in the
meanness of gifts and inappreciation of the work.”—_Our Churchman at
Work_, Brooklyn.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Page 51, repeated word "and" removed from text (Stir and boil one)

Page 56, “boiling” changed to “broiling” (broiling a steak)

Page 57, “smoaking” changed to “smoking” (of the smoking steak)

Page 95, “rechauffes” changed to “rechauffés” (devising dainty
_rechauffés_)

Page 139, “alspice” changed to “allspice” (half as much allspice)

Page 142, “alspice” changed to “allspice” (same quantity of allspice)

Page 159, “imparing” changed to “impairing” (without impairing the
interest)

Page 161, “resistlesss” changed to “resistless” (attentive or
resistless)

Page 161, “Post” had been left off the attribution for the critique
of “True Blue.” It was found in another publication and added.
(experiences—_Detroit Post._)

Page 163, “ou” changed to “out” (and helps them out)





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marion Harland's Cookery for Beginners, by 
Marion Harland

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 49155 ***