Recipes
!IMPORTANT!: For any ingredient amounts, please note that measurements may vary between countries, even if the same names are used. For conversions see here. Conversions for weights and archaic measurements will also be found on this page, as well as what is meant by certain words and phrases.
Bread
Corn Ring-Cakes. (1847, USA)
Three eggs, one pint of milk, one pint of corn meal, a little salt, and a dessert-spoonful of butter. Mix these ingredients well together, and bake in rings or small pans.
Three eggs, one pint of milk, one pint of corn meal, a little salt, and a dessert-spoonful of butter. Mix these ingredients well together, and bake in rings or small pans.
Parker House Rolls. (1877, USA)
Take one pint of milk. Boil it, and when lukewarm mix into it one pint of yeast, a tablespoonful of butter and lard (mixed). Then take two quarts of flour, add a little salt, make a hole in the centre of the flour, and pour in the milk, and let it stand overnight: then knead it and make into biscuit, and let rise two hours before baking.
Take one pint of milk. Boil it, and when lukewarm mix into it one pint of yeast, a tablespoonful of butter and lard (mixed). Then take two quarts of flour, add a little salt, make a hole in the centre of the flour, and pour in the milk, and let it stand overnight: then knead it and make into biscuit, and let rise two hours before baking.
Cheese
Baked Cheese. (1882, France)
Warm four ounces of butter in half a tumblerful of water and a pinch of salt. As soon as it boils, stir in seven ounces of flour; after a few minutes, take the saucepan off the fire, and add four yolks of egg, the whites well whipped, and four ounces of grated Gruyere cheese; pour round a tin dish, cover with very thin slices of cheese, glaze with yolks of egg, and bake for twenty-five minutes. This is a delicious dish.
Warm four ounces of butter in half a tumblerful of water and a pinch of salt. As soon as it boils, stir in seven ounces of flour; after a few minutes, take the saucepan off the fire, and add four yolks of egg, the whites well whipped, and four ounces of grated Gruyere cheese; pour round a tin dish, cover with very thin slices of cheese, glaze with yolks of egg, and bake for twenty-five minutes. This is a delicious dish.
Cheese Toast. (1815, USA)
Mix some fine butter, made mustard [the condiment], and salt, into a mass; spread it on fresh-made thin toasts, and grate or scrape rich cheese upon them.
Mix some fine butter, made mustard [the condiment], and salt, into a mass; spread it on fresh-made thin toasts, and grate or scrape rich cheese upon them.
Macaroni Cheese, or Macaroni à l'Italienne. (1882, France)
Boil your macaroni in salt and water. Lay alternate layers of the boiled macaroni and grated Parmesan cheese in a deep dish, moisten with gravy, and when the dish is quite full, pour some melted butter over it; allow half a pound of butter to every two pounds of macaroni. Warm in the oven, and serve.
Boil your macaroni in salt and water. Lay alternate layers of the boiled macaroni and grated Parmesan cheese in a deep dish, moisten with gravy, and when the dish is quite full, pour some melted butter over it; allow half a pound of butter to every two pounds of macaroni. Warm in the oven, and serve.
Macaroni and Parmesan Cheese. (1834, England)
Boil a pound of macaroni in water, in which put some butter, salt, and pepper; it must not be very much done; if soft to the pressure of the finger it is enough; drain it; put it in a stewpan with a quarter of a pound of butter, half a pound of grated cheese, Parmesan and Gruyère, with coarse pepper; sautez the whole together; add a little cream; serve when the cheese is melted and begins to thread.
Boil a pound of macaroni in water, in which put some butter, salt, and pepper; it must not be very much done; if soft to the pressure of the finger it is enough; drain it; put it in a stewpan with a quarter of a pound of butter, half a pound of grated cheese, Parmesan and Gruyère, with coarse pepper; sautez the whole together; add a little cream; serve when the cheese is melted and begins to thread.
Dessert
Amber Pudding. (1877, USA)
My receipt for this pudding is as follows, and is very good: Put one pound of butter into a saucepan, with three-quarters of a pound of crushed sugar; melt the butter, and mix well; then add the yelks of fifteen eggs, well beaten, and as much candied orange-peel (pounded to a paste) as will give color and flavor. Line a dish with paste, fill with the mixture, lay a crust over, and bake in a slow oven.
My receipt for this pudding is as follows, and is very good: Put one pound of butter into a saucepan, with three-quarters of a pound of crushed sugar; melt the butter, and mix well; then add the yelks of fifteen eggs, well beaten, and as much candied orange-peel (pounded to a paste) as will give color and flavor. Line a dish with paste, fill with the mixture, lay a crust over, and bake in a slow oven.
Apple Pie. (1815, USA)
Pare and core the fruit, having wiped the outside; which, with the cores, boil with a little water till it tastes well: strain, and put a little sugar, and a bit of bruised cinnamon, and simmer again. In the mean time place the apples in a dish, a paste being put round the edge; when one layer is in, sprinkle half the sugar, and shred lemon-peel, and squeeze some juice, or a glass of cider. If the apples have lost their spirit, put in the rest of the apples, sugar, and the liquor that you have boiled. Cover with paste. You may add some butter when cut, if eaten hot; or put quince-marmalade, orange-paste or cloves, to flavour.
Hot Apple Pie.—Make with the fruit, sugar, and a clove, and put a bit of butter in when cut open.
Pare and core the fruit, having wiped the outside; which, with the cores, boil with a little water till it tastes well: strain, and put a little sugar, and a bit of bruised cinnamon, and simmer again. In the mean time place the apples in a dish, a paste being put round the edge; when one layer is in, sprinkle half the sugar, and shred lemon-peel, and squeeze some juice, or a glass of cider. If the apples have lost their spirit, put in the rest of the apples, sugar, and the liquor that you have boiled. Cover with paste. You may add some butter when cut, if eaten hot; or put quince-marmalade, orange-paste or cloves, to flavour.
Hot Apple Pie.—Make with the fruit, sugar, and a clove, and put a bit of butter in when cut open.
Arrowroot Pudding. (1877, USA)
Mix four tablespoonfuls of arrowroot to a smooth batter with half a pint of milk; put a pint of milk on the fire with a few lumps of sugar, and when it boils, add the batter, and keep stirring it till sufficiently thick to leave the saucepan. Pour it into a mould previously soaked in cold water, and when cold, it will turn out easily. A tablespoonful of brandy poured in just before the blanc-mange is folded much improves the flavor.
Mix four tablespoonfuls of arrowroot to a smooth batter with half a pint of milk; put a pint of milk on the fire with a few lumps of sugar, and when it boils, add the batter, and keep stirring it till sufficiently thick to leave the saucepan. Pour it into a mould previously soaked in cold water, and when cold, it will turn out easily. A tablespoonful of brandy poured in just before the blanc-mange is folded much improves the flavor.
Chocolate Biscuits. (1877, USA)
Mix some chocolate powder with white of eggs, and powdered loaf-sugar, into a paste. Mould this into biscuits [cookies], and bake them at gentle heat on a sheet of white paper. [Note - A lightly-colored cookie sheet would probably be a good substitute for the paper.]
Mix some chocolate powder with white of eggs, and powdered loaf-sugar, into a paste. Mould this into biscuits [cookies], and bake them at gentle heat on a sheet of white paper. [Note - A lightly-colored cookie sheet would probably be a good substitute for the paper.]
Cocoa-nut Cakes. (1877, USA)
I have tried several ways for making these, but have only succeeded in the following: Rasp a fresh cocoa-nut on a grater, taking care not to let any of the brown rind in (which can be prevented by holding the ring towards you); spread it on a dish or tin, and let it dry gradually for a couple of days; add to it double its weight of fine sifted sugar and the whites of eight eggs beaten to a solid froth, and a teacupful of flour for every pound; put the mixture into small drop tins, and bake them in a very gentle oven about twenty minutes. Move them out of the tins while they are warm, and store them in a canister when cold.
I have tried several ways for making these, but have only succeeded in the following: Rasp a fresh cocoa-nut on a grater, taking care not to let any of the brown rind in (which can be prevented by holding the ring towards you); spread it on a dish or tin, and let it dry gradually for a couple of days; add to it double its weight of fine sifted sugar and the whites of eight eggs beaten to a solid froth, and a teacupful of flour for every pound; put the mixture into small drop tins, and bake them in a very gentle oven about twenty minutes. Move them out of the tins while they are warm, and store them in a canister when cold.
Ginger Pound Cake. (1877, USA)
Two pounds of flour, one pound of butter, one dozen eggs, one cup of milk, one pint of molasses, two tablespoonfuls of ginger, one tablespoonful of cinnamon, three teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Bake immediately.
Two pounds of flour, one pound of butter, one dozen eggs, one cup of milk, one pint of molasses, two tablespoonfuls of ginger, one tablespoonful of cinnamon, three teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Bake immediately.
Ice Cream Cake.--Mrs. A. F. Curtis. (1890, USA)
Two cups of sugar, two cups of flour, two heaping teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one cup of milk, one-half cup of butter, whites of six eggs. Bake in jelly tins. Let them get perfectly cold. Take a pint of the thickest sweet cream, beat until it looks like ice cream, make very sweet, and flavor with vanilla. Blanch and chop a pound of almonds, stir into cream, and put very thick between each layer.
Two cups of sugar, two cups of flour, two heaping teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one cup of milk, one-half cup of butter, whites of six eggs. Bake in jelly tins. Let them get perfectly cold. Take a pint of the thickest sweet cream, beat until it looks like ice cream, make very sweet, and flavor with vanilla. Blanch and chop a pound of almonds, stir into cream, and put very thick between each layer.
Imperial Custard. (1877, USA)
Sixteen eggs, three pints of new milk, two teacups of loaf-sugar, and a heaped teaspoonful of corn-starch.
1st. Have ready a teakettle of boiling water. Break the eggs separately; whisk the whites to a very stiff froth; put them into a tin vessel with a lid, pour boiling water over them: cover close, and leave to steam.
2d. Place the milk in a porcelain kettle over a brisk fire to boil quick. Add to the yelks the sugar and corn-starch: beat all well together; instantly as the milk boils, pour in the beaten yelks, and let it come to a quick boil. Great care must be taken at this stage; to boil a second too long will curdle the custard; pour up immediately and set to cool; dip the whites out with a colander and set to drip.
3d. When ready to serve, have a large, handsome cut glass bowl or custard stand. Flavor the yellow with wine, or anything preferred; pour into the bowl, then heap up the stiff froth high, in pyramidal form. Send to table with rich cake.
To vary this custard, in fruit season, have a handsome stand of strawberries, raspberries, currants, etc.; place some in the saucers or glasses, and cover with custard. The above dessert, when properly prepared, is more elegant, as delicious, and far more nutritive than ice-cream. [Note - This sounds very hard to make, but so good. It would definitely be worth a try if you're an experienced-enough cook.]
Sixteen eggs, three pints of new milk, two teacups of loaf-sugar, and a heaped teaspoonful of corn-starch.
1st. Have ready a teakettle of boiling water. Break the eggs separately; whisk the whites to a very stiff froth; put them into a tin vessel with a lid, pour boiling water over them: cover close, and leave to steam.
2d. Place the milk in a porcelain kettle over a brisk fire to boil quick. Add to the yelks the sugar and corn-starch: beat all well together; instantly as the milk boils, pour in the beaten yelks, and let it come to a quick boil. Great care must be taken at this stage; to boil a second too long will curdle the custard; pour up immediately and set to cool; dip the whites out with a colander and set to drip.
3d. When ready to serve, have a large, handsome cut glass bowl or custard stand. Flavor the yellow with wine, or anything preferred; pour into the bowl, then heap up the stiff froth high, in pyramidal form. Send to table with rich cake.
To vary this custard, in fruit season, have a handsome stand of strawberries, raspberries, currants, etc.; place some in the saucers or glasses, and cover with custard. The above dessert, when properly prepared, is more elegant, as delicious, and far more nutritive than ice-cream. [Note - This sounds very hard to make, but so good. It would definitely be worth a try if you're an experienced-enough cook.]
Matrimony Tart. (1877, USA)
Pare and core about a dozen nice-sized apples; put them into a saucepan with a little water to keep them from burning; boil them until you can pulp them (but do not forget to frequently stir them), then add a quarter of a pound of currants, two ounces of candied peel, and enough sugar to sweeten it nicely; if liked, also a little grated nutmeg. Pour this mixture into a large tart-tin or dish that has previously been lined with a thin paste. Then roll out another piece the same size and thickness, which place over the top; press the edges together all round, make a hole in the centre (the same as for mince-pies), and bake. When apples are plentiful this makes a pleasing change from the ordinary routine of pies and puddings.
Pare and core about a dozen nice-sized apples; put them into a saucepan with a little water to keep them from burning; boil them until you can pulp them (but do not forget to frequently stir them), then add a quarter of a pound of currants, two ounces of candied peel, and enough sugar to sweeten it nicely; if liked, also a little grated nutmeg. Pour this mixture into a large tart-tin or dish that has previously been lined with a thin paste. Then roll out another piece the same size and thickness, which place over the top; press the edges together all round, make a hole in the centre (the same as for mince-pies), and bake. When apples are plentiful this makes a pleasing change from the ordinary routine of pies and puddings.
To Make a Bread and Butter Pudding. (1747, England)
Get a penny loaf and cut it into thin slices of bread and butter, as you do for tea [buttered on both sides]. Butter your dish as you cut them, lay slices all over the dish, then strew a few currants clean washed and picked, then a row of bread and butter, then a few currants, and so on till your bread and butter is in; then take a pint of milk, beat up four eggs, a little salt, half a nutmeg grated, mix all together with sugar to your taste; pour this over the bread, and bake it half an hour. A puff-paste under does best. You may put in two spoonfuls of rose-water. [Note - The layers of bread and butter are best cut in triangles and laid in opposite directions so as to cover more space. The best bread is a day old and has few holes. This is one of my favorite desserts, and it's not that hard to make.]
Get a penny loaf and cut it into thin slices of bread and butter, as you do for tea [buttered on both sides]. Butter your dish as you cut them, lay slices all over the dish, then strew a few currants clean washed and picked, then a row of bread and butter, then a few currants, and so on till your bread and butter is in; then take a pint of milk, beat up four eggs, a little salt, half a nutmeg grated, mix all together with sugar to your taste; pour this over the bread, and bake it half an hour. A puff-paste under does best. You may put in two spoonfuls of rose-water. [Note - The layers of bread and butter are best cut in triangles and laid in opposite directions so as to cover more space. The best bread is a day old and has few holes. This is one of my favorite desserts, and it's not that hard to make.]
Whipped Strawberry and Raspberry Cream. (1882, France)
Whip two pints of double cream, and put all the froth in a fine hair sieve. Crush a pound of mixed strawberries and raspberries through a sieve, sweeten the juice with powdered sugar, mix the cream and juice together, whip, and serve.
Whip two pints of double cream, and put all the froth in a fine hair sieve. Crush a pound of mixed strawberries and raspberries through a sieve, sweeten the juice with powdered sugar, mix the cream and juice together, whip, and serve.
Vanilla Ice Cream. (1844, England)
Pound two sticks of vanilla, or sufficient to flavour it to palate, in a mortar with half a pound of sugar; pass through a sieve. Put it into a stewpan, with half a pint of milk; boil over a slow fire, with the yolks of two eggs, stirring all the time, the same as custard; add one pint of cream, and the juice of one lemon. Freeze. One quart.
Pound two sticks of vanilla, or sufficient to flavour it to palate, in a mortar with half a pound of sugar; pass through a sieve. Put it into a stewpan, with half a pint of milk; boil over a slow fire, with the yolks of two eggs, stirring all the time, the same as custard; add one pint of cream, and the juice of one lemon. Freeze. One quart.
Drinks
Canadian Punch. (1862, USA) - Alcoholic
2 quarts of rye whiskey.
1 pint of Jamaica rum.
6 lemons, sliced,
1 pineapple, [sliced].
4 quarts of water.
Sweeten to taste, and ice.
2 quarts of rye whiskey.
1 pint of Jamaica rum.
6 lemons, sliced,
1 pineapple, [sliced].
4 quarts of water.
Sweeten to taste, and ice.
Cider Nectar. (1862, USA) - Alcoholic
(A la Harold Littledale.)
1 quart of cider.
1 bottle of soda-water.
1 glass of sherry.
1 small glass of brandy.
Juice of half a lemon, peel of quarter of a lemon; sugar and nutmeg to taste; a sprig of verbena. Flavor it to taste with extract of pineapple. Strain, and ice it all well. This is a delicious beverage, and only requires to be tasted to be appreciated.
(A la Harold Littledale.)
1 quart of cider.
1 bottle of soda-water.
1 glass of sherry.
1 small glass of brandy.
Juice of half a lemon, peel of quarter of a lemon; sugar and nutmeg to taste; a sprig of verbena. Flavor it to taste with extract of pineapple. Strain, and ice it all well. This is a delicious beverage, and only requires to be tasted to be appreciated.
Mint Julep. (1862, USA) - Alcoholic
(Use large bar glass.)
1 table-spoonful of white pulverized sugar.
2 1/2 [tablespoonful] water, mix well with a spoon.
Take three or four sprigs of fresh mint, and press them well in the sugar and water, until the flavor of the mint is extracted; add one and a half wine-glass of Cognac brandy, and fill the glass with fine shaved ice, then draw out the sprigs of mint and insert them in the ice with the stems downward, so that the leaves will be above, in the shape of a bouquet; arrange berries, and small pieces of sliced orange on top in a tasty manner, dash with Jamaica rum, and sprinkle white sugar on top. Place a straw as represented in the cut, and you have a julep that is fit for an emperor.
(Use large bar glass.)
1 table-spoonful of white pulverized sugar.
2 1/2 [tablespoonful] water, mix well with a spoon.
Take three or four sprigs of fresh mint, and press them well in the sugar and water, until the flavor of the mint is extracted; add one and a half wine-glass of Cognac brandy, and fill the glass with fine shaved ice, then draw out the sprigs of mint and insert them in the ice with the stems downward, so that the leaves will be above, in the shape of a bouquet; arrange berries, and small pieces of sliced orange on top in a tasty manner, dash with Jamaica rum, and sprinkle white sugar on top. Place a straw as represented in the cut, and you have a julep that is fit for an emperor.
Orange Cream. (1877, USA)
Pare the rind of an orange very thin, and squeeze the juice of four oranges, and put it, with the peel, into a saucepan with one pint of water, eight ounces of sugar, and the whites of five eggs well beaten. Mix all together, place it over a slow fire, stir it in one direction until it looks thick and white, strain it through a gauze sieve, and stir it till cold. Beat the yelks of five eggs thoroughly, and add them to the contents of the saucepan, with some cream. Stir all together over the fire till ready to boil, pour it into a basin, and again stir it till quite cold before putting it into glasses.
Pare the rind of an orange very thin, and squeeze the juice of four oranges, and put it, with the peel, into a saucepan with one pint of water, eight ounces of sugar, and the whites of five eggs well beaten. Mix all together, place it over a slow fire, stir it in one direction until it looks thick and white, strain it through a gauze sieve, and stir it till cold. Beat the yelks of five eggs thoroughly, and add them to the contents of the saucepan, with some cream. Stir all together over the fire till ready to boil, pour it into a basin, and again stir it till quite cold before putting it into glasses.
Pineapple Julep. (1862, USA) - Alcoholic
(For a party of five.)
Peel, slice, and cut up a ripe pineapple into a glass bowl, add the juice of two oranges, a gill of raspberry syrup, a gill of maraschino, a gill of old gin, a bottle of sparkling Moselle, and about a pound of pure ice in shaves; mix, ornament with berries in season, and serve in flat glasses.
(For a party of five.)
Peel, slice, and cut up a ripe pineapple into a glass bowl, add the juice of two oranges, a gill of raspberry syrup, a gill of maraschino, a gill of old gin, a bottle of sparkling Moselle, and about a pound of pure ice in shaves; mix, ornament with berries in season, and serve in flat glasses.
Meat
Beef Collops. (1877, USA)
Two pounds of rump-steak, quarter of a pound of butter, one pint of gravy (water may be substituted for this), salt and pepper to taste, one shalott, finely minced, one pickled walnut, one teaspoonful of capers. Have the steak cut thin, and divide it in pieces about three inches long; beat these with the blade of a knife, and dredge with flour. Put them in a frying-pan with the butter, and let them fry for about three minutes; then lay them in a small stewpan, and pour over them the gravy. Add a piece of butter kneaded with a little flour, put in the seasoning and all the other ingredients, and let the whole simmer, but not boil, for ten minutes. Serve in a hot covered dish.
Two pounds of rump-steak, quarter of a pound of butter, one pint of gravy (water may be substituted for this), salt and pepper to taste, one shalott, finely minced, one pickled walnut, one teaspoonful of capers. Have the steak cut thin, and divide it in pieces about three inches long; beat these with the blade of a knife, and dredge with flour. Put them in a frying-pan with the butter, and let them fry for about three minutes; then lay them in a small stewpan, and pour over them the gravy. Add a piece of butter kneaded with a little flour, put in the seasoning and all the other ingredients, and let the whole simmer, but not boil, for ten minutes. Serve in a hot covered dish.
Beef Olives. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
One pound and a half of Fillet of Beef or Rump Steak
Three ounces of Bread-crumbs.
Two ounces of Beef Suet.
One teaspoonful of chopped Parsley.
Quarter of a teaspoonful of chopped Thyme and Marjoram
Nutmeg and Lemon-rind grated.
One Egg.
Salt and Pepper.
One pint of Brown Sauce.
Cut the fillet of beef into pieces of half an inch thick and four inches long, and beat them out with a wet cutlet-bat. Chop up the trimmings of the beef, the suet, parsley, thyme, and marjoram, and mix them in a basin with the bread-crumbs, the grated lemon-rind, nutmeg, salt, pepper, and the egg; stuff each piece of beef with this mixture, roll it up, and tie it round with a piece of string. Place these stuffed rolls of beef in a stewpan with one pint of brown sauce, and stew gently for three quarters of an hour. For serving, take off the string, and dish up with mashed potato or spinach, with the sauce poured round.
Ingredients.
One pound and a half of Fillet of Beef or Rump Steak
Three ounces of Bread-crumbs.
Two ounces of Beef Suet.
One teaspoonful of chopped Parsley.
Quarter of a teaspoonful of chopped Thyme and Marjoram
Nutmeg and Lemon-rind grated.
One Egg.
Salt and Pepper.
One pint of Brown Sauce.
Cut the fillet of beef into pieces of half an inch thick and four inches long, and beat them out with a wet cutlet-bat. Chop up the trimmings of the beef, the suet, parsley, thyme, and marjoram, and mix them in a basin with the bread-crumbs, the grated lemon-rind, nutmeg, salt, pepper, and the egg; stuff each piece of beef with this mixture, roll it up, and tie it round with a piece of string. Place these stuffed rolls of beef in a stewpan with one pint of brown sauce, and stew gently for three quarters of an hour. For serving, take off the string, and dish up with mashed potato or spinach, with the sauce poured round.
Beef Rolls. (1877, USA)
The remains of cold roast or boiled beef, seasoning to taste of salt, pepper, and minced herbs; puff paste. Mince the beef tolerably fine with a small amount of its own fat; add a seasoning of pepper and salt, and chopped herbs; put the whole into a roll of puff paste, and bake for half an hour, or rather longer, should the roll be very large. Beef patties may be made of cold meat, by mincing and seasoning beef as directed above, and baking in a rich puff-paste and in patty-tins.
The remains of cold roast or boiled beef, seasoning to taste of salt, pepper, and minced herbs; puff paste. Mince the beef tolerably fine with a small amount of its own fat; add a seasoning of pepper and salt, and chopped herbs; put the whole into a roll of puff paste, and bake for half an hour, or rather longer, should the roll be very large. Beef patties may be made of cold meat, by mincing and seasoning beef as directed above, and baking in a rich puff-paste and in patty-tins.
Braised Ribs of Beef with Purée of Tomatoes. (1882, France)
Tie up your piece of meat and place in a stew-pan, with half a bottle of white wine, a spoonful of brandy, two pints of stock, three and a half ounces onion, stuck with three cloves, three and a half ounces carrot, a bouquet of thyme, laurel-leaves and parsley, and some whole black peppers; boil and skim, after which either bake in the oven or have some hot coals on the lid of the stew-pan, being careful to take it off the fire every half-hour. As soon as the beef is sufficiently cooked, put the juice in a saucepan, reduce it to about the quantity of two wineglassesful, and mix with your purée of tomatoes, keep on the fire for ten minutes. Serve the ribs of beef separately from the sauce.
Tie up your piece of meat and place in a stew-pan, with half a bottle of white wine, a spoonful of brandy, two pints of stock, three and a half ounces onion, stuck with three cloves, three and a half ounces carrot, a bouquet of thyme, laurel-leaves and parsley, and some whole black peppers; boil and skim, after which either bake in the oven or have some hot coals on the lid of the stew-pan, being careful to take it off the fire every half-hour. As soon as the beef is sufficiently cooked, put the juice in a saucepan, reduce it to about the quantity of two wineglassesful, and mix with your purée of tomatoes, keep on the fire for ten minutes. Serve the ribs of beef separately from the sauce.
Carp Boiled in Beer. (1882, France)
This is a very old and good recipe. Line a fish-pan with slices of bacon, chopped onions, eschalots [shallots], carrots, and mixed herbs; put in the carp, sprinkle with salt, and pour in sufficient beer to cover about three quarters of the fish; lay a sheet of buttered paper over it, and place the fish-pan in a moderate oven, turn the fish in half an hour; when cooked remove the carp; pass the sauce through a tammy [tamis], clear of all grease, and warm in a saucepan; as soon as it boils, stir in some stale grated bread-crumbs; take off the fire, continue stirring until quite thick; pass through a hair sieve and pour over the carp, which must be previously garnished with stewed lettuces, young onions, mushrooms, and fish quenelles. If any sauce remains, hand it in a sauceboat.
This is a very old and good recipe. Line a fish-pan with slices of bacon, chopped onions, eschalots [shallots], carrots, and mixed herbs; put in the carp, sprinkle with salt, and pour in sufficient beer to cover about three quarters of the fish; lay a sheet of buttered paper over it, and place the fish-pan in a moderate oven, turn the fish in half an hour; when cooked remove the carp; pass the sauce through a tammy [tamis], clear of all grease, and warm in a saucepan; as soon as it boils, stir in some stale grated bread-crumbs; take off the fire, continue stirring until quite thick; pass through a hair sieve and pour over the carp, which must be previously garnished with stewed lettuces, young onions, mushrooms, and fish quenelles. If any sauce remains, hand it in a sauceboat.
Fish Cakes. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
One pound of Cold Fish.
Half a pint of thick Brown Sauce.
One dessertspoonful of Anchovy Sauce.
Six Gherkins.
One Egg.
Two ounces of Bread-crumbs.
Make the brown sauce hot and stir into it the anchovy sauce and the gherkins, chopped finely. Take the stewpan off the fire, and add the fish in small flakes, removing all skin and bone. Turn this on to a plate, and when cold form into little cakes, egg and bread-crumb them, and fry them; serve with fried parsley.
Ingredients.
One pound of Cold Fish.
Half a pint of thick Brown Sauce.
One dessertspoonful of Anchovy Sauce.
Six Gherkins.
One Egg.
Two ounces of Bread-crumbs.
Make the brown sauce hot and stir into it the anchovy sauce and the gherkins, chopped finely. Take the stewpan off the fire, and add the fish in small flakes, removing all skin and bone. Turn this on to a plate, and when cold form into little cakes, egg and bread-crumb them, and fry them; serve with fried parsley.
Fricassée of Chicken. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
One Chicken.
One Carrot.
Half an Onion.
One stick of celery.
Parsley.
One Sprig of Thyme.
One Bay-leaf.
Two Cloves.
Six Peppercorns.
One blade of Mace.
One pint and a half of Second White Stock.
One ounce and a half of Butter.
One ounce and a half of Flour.
Twenty-four Button Mushrooms.
Fried Bread.
One gill of Cream.
Cut up the chicken into joints and lay it in cold water for ten minutes. Put the carrot, cut in slices, the onion, thyme, bay-leaf, celery, parsley, cloves, peppercorns, and mace into a stewpan, with the stock and the pieces of chicken taken out of the water and wiped dry on a clean cloth; let these all boil gently for half an hour, then take out the pieces of chicken, wash them in cold water, and dry them; strain the stock into a basin. Peel the mushrooms and cut off the stalks, and put them into a stewpan, with half an ounce of butter, the lemon-juice, and a tablespoonful of cold water; let this just boil up, and then turn them on to a plate. Put one ounce of butter and half an ounce of flour into a stewpan, and mix well together; add the stalks and trimmings of the mushrooms and the chicken stock, first taking off the grease thoroughly; stir till it boils, and let it boil gently for twenty minutes, with the lid half on; then skim off the butter which has risen to the top, and let it reduce to one pint. Add the cream, put the mushrooms and the pieces of chicken into a stewpan, strain the sauce over them, and, when quite hot, serve with pieces of fried bread round.
Ingredients.
One Chicken.
One Carrot.
Half an Onion.
One stick of celery.
Parsley.
One Sprig of Thyme.
One Bay-leaf.
Two Cloves.
Six Peppercorns.
One blade of Mace.
One pint and a half of Second White Stock.
One ounce and a half of Butter.
One ounce and a half of Flour.
Twenty-four Button Mushrooms.
Fried Bread.
One gill of Cream.
Cut up the chicken into joints and lay it in cold water for ten minutes. Put the carrot, cut in slices, the onion, thyme, bay-leaf, celery, parsley, cloves, peppercorns, and mace into a stewpan, with the stock and the pieces of chicken taken out of the water and wiped dry on a clean cloth; let these all boil gently for half an hour, then take out the pieces of chicken, wash them in cold water, and dry them; strain the stock into a basin. Peel the mushrooms and cut off the stalks, and put them into a stewpan, with half an ounce of butter, the lemon-juice, and a tablespoonful of cold water; let this just boil up, and then turn them on to a plate. Put one ounce of butter and half an ounce of flour into a stewpan, and mix well together; add the stalks and trimmings of the mushrooms and the chicken stock, first taking off the grease thoroughly; stir till it boils, and let it boil gently for twenty minutes, with the lid half on; then skim off the butter which has risen to the top, and let it reduce to one pint. Add the cream, put the mushrooms and the pieces of chicken into a stewpan, strain the sauce over them, and, when quite hot, serve with pieces of fried bread round.
Lamb, Shoulder of, Stuffed. (1877, USA)
Shoulder of lamb, forcemeat, trimmings of veal or beef, two onions, half a head of celery, one fagot [small bunch] of savory herbs, a few slices of fat bacon, one quart of stock. Take the blade-bone out of a shoulder of lamb, fill up its place with forcemeat, and sew it up with coarse thread. Put it into a stewpan with a few slices of bacon under and over the lamb, and add the remaining ingredients. Stew very gently for rather more than two hours. Reduce the gravy, with which glaze the meat, and serve with peas, stewed cucumbers, or sorrel sauce.
Shoulder of lamb, forcemeat, trimmings of veal or beef, two onions, half a head of celery, one fagot [small bunch] of savory herbs, a few slices of fat bacon, one quart of stock. Take the blade-bone out of a shoulder of lamb, fill up its place with forcemeat, and sew it up with coarse thread. Put it into a stewpan with a few slices of bacon under and over the lamb, and add the remaining ingredients. Stew very gently for rather more than two hours. Reduce the gravy, with which glaze the meat, and serve with peas, stewed cucumbers, or sorrel sauce.
Leg of Mutton à la Polonaise. (1882, France)
Braise a very tender leg of mutton until three quarters cooked, drain it, and cut into thick slices without separating them from the bone. Spread a layer of the following stuffing between each slice:—Take a large lump of butter, chopped parsley, chives, eschalots [shallots], powdered ginger, salt, pepper, and bread-crumbs, stir well together. Place the mutton in a stew-pan, moisten with some of the liquor in which it was braised, and a wineglassful of champagne; simmer for half an hour, with hot coals on the lid of the stew-pan; when done, dish up the leg, clear the sauce of all grease, flavour with orange-juice, and pour over the mutton.
Braise a very tender leg of mutton until three quarters cooked, drain it, and cut into thick slices without separating them from the bone. Spread a layer of the following stuffing between each slice:—Take a large lump of butter, chopped parsley, chives, eschalots [shallots], powdered ginger, salt, pepper, and bread-crumbs, stir well together. Place the mutton in a stew-pan, moisten with some of the liquor in which it was braised, and a wineglassful of champagne; simmer for half an hour, with hot coals on the lid of the stew-pan; when done, dish up the leg, clear the sauce of all grease, flavour with orange-juice, and pour over the mutton.
Little Pigs in Blankets.--Mrs. Wm. Murden, Twelve Mile, Ind. (1890, USA)
Season large oysters and cut very thin slices of bacon, about two by three inches. Wrap the oyster in bacon and fasten with small wooden toothpicks, and cook a nice brown; serve with the wooden picks in them.
Season large oysters and cut very thin slices of bacon, about two by three inches. Wrap the oyster in bacon and fasten with small wooden toothpicks, and cook a nice brown; serve with the wooden picks in them.
Meat Loaf.—Mrs. Henry Myers. (1890, USA)
Boil two pounds of beef, two eggs, six Boston crackers rolled fine, one tablespoonful of salt and one tablespoonful of pepper, one cup of water. Pack in a pan, and bake one hour. To be eaten cold, sliced thin.
Boil two pounds of beef, two eggs, six Boston crackers rolled fine, one tablespoonful of salt and one tablespoonful of pepper, one cup of water. Pack in a pan, and bake one hour. To be eaten cold, sliced thin.
Mutton Collops. (1877, USA)
A few slices of cold leg or loin of mutton, salt and pepper to taste, one blade of pounded mace, one small bunch of savory herbs minced very fine, two or three shalots, two or three ounces of butter, one dessertspoonful of flour, half a pint of gravy, one tablespoonful of lemon-juice. Cut some very thin slices from a leg or the chump end of a loin of mutton; sprinkle them with pepper, salt, pounded mace, minced savory herbs, and minced shalot; fry them in butter, stir in a dessertspoonful of flour, add the gravy and lemon-juice, simmer very gently about five or seven minutes, and serve immediately.
A few slices of cold leg or loin of mutton, salt and pepper to taste, one blade of pounded mace, one small bunch of savory herbs minced very fine, two or three shalots, two or three ounces of butter, one dessertspoonful of flour, half a pint of gravy, one tablespoonful of lemon-juice. Cut some very thin slices from a leg or the chump end of a loin of mutton; sprinkle them with pepper, salt, pounded mace, minced savory herbs, and minced shalot; fry them in butter, stir in a dessertspoonful of flour, add the gravy and lemon-juice, simmer very gently about five or seven minutes, and serve immediately.
Scotch Chickens. (1747, England)
First wash your chickens, dry them in a clean cloth, and singe them, then cut them into quarters; put them into a stewpan or saucepan, and just cover them with water, put in a blade or two of mace and a little bundle of parsley; cover them close, and let them stew half and hour, then chop half a handful of clean washed parsley, and throw in, and have ready six eggs, whites and all, beat fine. Let your liquor boil up, and pour the egg all over them as it boils; then send all together hot in a deep dish, but take out the bundle of parsley first. You must be sure to skim them well before you put in your mace, and the broth will be fine and clear.
Note, This is also a very pretty dish for sick people, but the Scotch gentlemen are very fond of it.
First wash your chickens, dry them in a clean cloth, and singe them, then cut them into quarters; put them into a stewpan or saucepan, and just cover them with water, put in a blade or two of mace and a little bundle of parsley; cover them close, and let them stew half and hour, then chop half a handful of clean washed parsley, and throw in, and have ready six eggs, whites and all, beat fine. Let your liquor boil up, and pour the egg all over them as it boils; then send all together hot in a deep dish, but take out the bundle of parsley first. You must be sure to skim them well before you put in your mace, and the broth will be fine and clear.
Note, This is also a very pretty dish for sick people, but the Scotch gentlemen are very fond of it.
To Make a Currey the Indian Way. (1747, England)
Take two small chickens, skin them and cut them as for fricasey, wash them clean, and stew them in about a quart of water, for about five minutes, then strain off the liquor and put the chickens in a clean dish; take three large onions, chop them small, and fry them in about two ounces of butter, then put in the chickens and fry them together till they are brown, take a quarter of an ounce of turmerick, a large spoonful of ginger and beaten pepper together, and a little salt to your palate, strew all these ingredients over the chickens whilst it is trying, then pour in the liquor, and let it stew about half an hour, then put in a quarter of a pint of cream, and the juice of two lemons, and serve it up. The ginger, pepper, and turmerick must be beat very fine.
To boil the rice.
Put two quarts of water to a pint of rice, let it boil till you think it is done enough, then throw in a spoonful of salt, and turn it out into a cullender; then let it stand about five minutes before the fire to dry, and serve it up in a dish by itself. Dish it up and send to table, the rice in a dish by itself.
Take two small chickens, skin them and cut them as for fricasey, wash them clean, and stew them in about a quart of water, for about five minutes, then strain off the liquor and put the chickens in a clean dish; take three large onions, chop them small, and fry them in about two ounces of butter, then put in the chickens and fry them together till they are brown, take a quarter of an ounce of turmerick, a large spoonful of ginger and beaten pepper together, and a little salt to your palate, strew all these ingredients over the chickens whilst it is trying, then pour in the liquor, and let it stew about half an hour, then put in a quarter of a pint of cream, and the juice of two lemons, and serve it up. The ginger, pepper, and turmerick must be beat very fine.
To boil the rice.
Put two quarts of water to a pint of rice, let it boil till you think it is done enough, then throw in a spoonful of salt, and turn it out into a cullender; then let it stand about five minutes before the fire to dry, and serve it up in a dish by itself. Dish it up and send to table, the rice in a dish by itself.
Trout à l'espagnole. (1882, France)
Clean and scale your trout, stuff them with fresh butter, mixed with chopped parsley, chives, eschalots [shallots], salt and pepper; soak for an hour in olive oil, seasoned with parsley, chives, thyme, laurel-leaves, salt, and whole black pepper. Dip some paper in the oil, cover with as much of the seasoning as possible, wrap round the trout and broil; when cooked, remove the paper and herbs, and serve, covered with anchovy sauce.
Clean and scale your trout, stuff them with fresh butter, mixed with chopped parsley, chives, eschalots [shallots], salt and pepper; soak for an hour in olive oil, seasoned with parsley, chives, thyme, laurel-leaves, salt, and whole black pepper. Dip some paper in the oil, cover with as much of the seasoning as possible, wrap round the trout and broil; when cooked, remove the paper and herbs, and serve, covered with anchovy sauce.
Turkey or Chicken Giblets. (1882, France)
Take either some turkey or chicken giblets, gizards, and livers, scald, clean, and cut them up into pieces, do not use the heads. Warm in a saucepan with butter; when brown, add five ounces of bacon, cut into four pieces, brown them also; remove the giblets and bacon, stir a little flour into the butter, and when thick add two tumblersful of water; season with salt, pepper, thyme, laurel-leaves, and an onion stuck with cloves; simmer the giblets in this sauce for two hours. Blanch a dozen turnips in boiling water for a quarter of an hour, drain and add to the stew, with some sliced carrots, potatoes, chopped celery, and two lumps of sugar; when cooked, clear the sauce of all grease and serve very hot.
Take either some turkey or chicken giblets, gizards, and livers, scald, clean, and cut them up into pieces, do not use the heads. Warm in a saucepan with butter; when brown, add five ounces of bacon, cut into four pieces, brown them also; remove the giblets and bacon, stir a little flour into the butter, and when thick add two tumblersful of water; season with salt, pepper, thyme, laurel-leaves, and an onion stuck with cloves; simmer the giblets in this sauce for two hours. Blanch a dozen turnips in boiling water for a quarter of an hour, drain and add to the stew, with some sliced carrots, potatoes, chopped celery, and two lumps of sugar; when cooked, clear the sauce of all grease and serve very hot.
Miscellaneous
Orange Baskets. (1896, USA)
Cut two pieces from each orange, leaving what remains in shape of basket with handle, remove pulp from baskets and pieces, and keep baskets in ice water until ready to fill. From orange juice make orange jelly with which to fill baskets. Serve garnished with cream sauce. [Note - Adding some lemon juice to the rinds should help preserve them longer.]
Cut two pieces from each orange, leaving what remains in shape of basket with handle, remove pulp from baskets and pieces, and keep baskets in ice water until ready to fill. From orange juice make orange jelly with which to fill baskets. Serve garnished with cream sauce. [Note - Adding some lemon juice to the rinds should help preserve them longer.]
Salad
Chicken Salad.—Lottie Mitchell. (1890, USA)
One large stewed chicken, cold, three heads of celery, white part, equal amount of white cabbage, chopped, one or two heads of young lettuce if convenient, ten hard-boiled eggs, two tablespoonfuls of ground mustard, one teaspoonful of black pepper, two-thirds of a cupful of melted butter, one-half teaspoon of salt, one cupful of vinegar. Cut the dark and light meat of the fowl in small dice, removing skin and fat: chop the cabbage and lettuce; mix all together well. For the dressing, rub the yelks of the eggs with the butter; stir in the mustard, salt, pepper and vinegar; pour this over the chicken and celery and mix thoroughly. Shape in as compact a form as possible and garnish with the whites of the eggs, cut in rings, laying each one on a small leaf of lettuce, or garnish with double rows of olives. In this case, chop the whites of the eggs with the salad.
One large stewed chicken, cold, three heads of celery, white part, equal amount of white cabbage, chopped, one or two heads of young lettuce if convenient, ten hard-boiled eggs, two tablespoonfuls of ground mustard, one teaspoonful of black pepper, two-thirds of a cupful of melted butter, one-half teaspoon of salt, one cupful of vinegar. Cut the dark and light meat of the fowl in small dice, removing skin and fat: chop the cabbage and lettuce; mix all together well. For the dressing, rub the yelks of the eggs with the butter; stir in the mustard, salt, pepper and vinegar; pour this over the chicken and celery and mix thoroughly. Shape in as compact a form as possible and garnish with the whites of the eggs, cut in rings, laying each one on a small leaf of lettuce, or garnish with double rows of olives. In this case, chop the whites of the eggs with the salad.
Orange Salad. (1882, France)
Peel the oranges, prick them with a fork in several places, and soak in cold water, put them in a preserving-pan, with boiling water and some shavings of the orange peel; boil for ten minutes, change the water, and boil again until quite tender, plunge them into cold water, put sufficient refined syrup into the preserving-pan to cover the oranges, which drain well and boil in the syrup, without the peel, until quite thick. Take off the fire, pour the syrup and oranges into a deep dish; cut the fruit into quarters when cold; place in a dish with the shavings in the centre, pour the syrup over them.
Peel the oranges, prick them with a fork in several places, and soak in cold water, put them in a preserving-pan, with boiling water and some shavings of the orange peel; boil for ten minutes, change the water, and boil again until quite tender, plunge them into cold water, put sufficient refined syrup into the preserving-pan to cover the oranges, which drain well and boil in the syrup, without the peel, until quite thick. Take off the fire, pour the syrup and oranges into a deep dish; cut the fruit into quarters when cold; place in a dish with the shavings in the centre, pour the syrup over them.
Sauces and Toppings
Apple Preserve. (1877, USA)
Procure fresh-gathered, ripe apples, of a fine sort; peel them, take out the cores, and cut them in quarters; place them in a preserving-pan with a glass of water, a little lemon or orange-peel, and a pound of sugar to a pound and a half of fruit. Let it boil thoroughly, and then put it out into preserve-pots.
Procure fresh-gathered, ripe apples, of a fine sort; peel them, take out the cores, and cut them in quarters; place them in a preserving-pan with a glass of water, a little lemon or orange-peel, and a pound of sugar to a pound and a half of fruit. Let it boil thoroughly, and then put it out into preserve-pots.
Brown Sauce. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
One pint of Brown Stock.
Two ounces of Butter.
One ounce and a half of Flour.
Six Mushrooms.
One Carrot.
One small Onion.
One Shalot.
Salt and Pepper.
Put the mushrooms washed and peeled, the carrot, shalot, and onion cut up, into a stewpan, and fry them in the butter a good brown; stir in the flour, and last of all the stock; let it boil ten minutes, and skim it; season with pepper and salt; strain it through a tammy[tamis]-sieve, and it is ready for use.
Ingredients.
One pint of Brown Stock.
Two ounces of Butter.
One ounce and a half of Flour.
Six Mushrooms.
One Carrot.
One small Onion.
One Shalot.
Salt and Pepper.
Put the mushrooms washed and peeled, the carrot, shalot, and onion cut up, into a stewpan, and fry them in the butter a good brown; stir in the flour, and last of all the stock; let it boil ten minutes, and skim it; season with pepper and salt; strain it through a tammy[tamis]-sieve, and it is ready for use.
Court-Bouillon, or White Wine Sauce. (1882, France)
This sauce is so useful that it always ought to be at hand in every kitchen, and whenever any is taken out of the bowl in which it is kept, it must be replaced by the same quantity of white wine. Fill a fish-pan nearly to the brim with white wine, a wine-glassful of brandy, the same quantity of sherry, and season with salt, pepper, two heads of cloves, a head of garlic, sliced onions, carrots, turnips, parsnips, celery, chervil, parsley, laurel-leaves, thyme, and a lump of lard or fresh butter, if for fast days use olive oil; boil over a quick fire until reduced a third; if the wine catches fire, it will greatly improve the flavour of the sauce. When used for cooking fish or crayfish, see that the court-bouillon is boiling before putting them in, and have sufficient quantity to cover the fish thoroughly. A cheaper manner of preparing the sauce is by using equal quantities of vinegar and water instead of white wine, and by omitting some of the vegetables.
This sauce is so useful that it always ought to be at hand in every kitchen, and whenever any is taken out of the bowl in which it is kept, it must be replaced by the same quantity of white wine. Fill a fish-pan nearly to the brim with white wine, a wine-glassful of brandy, the same quantity of sherry, and season with salt, pepper, two heads of cloves, a head of garlic, sliced onions, carrots, turnips, parsnips, celery, chervil, parsley, laurel-leaves, thyme, and a lump of lard or fresh butter, if for fast days use olive oil; boil over a quick fire until reduced a third; if the wine catches fire, it will greatly improve the flavour of the sauce. When used for cooking fish or crayfish, see that the court-bouillon is boiling before putting them in, and have sufficient quantity to cover the fish thoroughly. A cheaper manner of preparing the sauce is by using equal quantities of vinegar and water instead of white wine, and by omitting some of the vegetables.
Mayonnaise Sauce. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
Two Eggs.
Salt and Pepper.
One teaspoonful of Vinegar.
One teaspoonful of Tarragon Vinegar.
Half a teaspoonful of made Mustard.
One gill of Salad Oil.
Put the yolks of egg into a basin, with a saltspoonful of salt and half a saltspoonful of pepper; break the yolks with a wooden spoon, and pour in, one drop at a time, the gill of oil, whisking it well the whole time. At the last, stir in the vinegar and the mustard. The sauce, when properly made, must be as smooth and as thick as double cream.
Ingredients.
Two Eggs.
Salt and Pepper.
One teaspoonful of Vinegar.
One teaspoonful of Tarragon Vinegar.
Half a teaspoonful of made Mustard.
One gill of Salad Oil.
Put the yolks of egg into a basin, with a saltspoonful of salt and half a saltspoonful of pepper; break the yolks with a wooden spoon, and pour in, one drop at a time, the gill of oil, whisking it well the whole time. At the last, stir in the vinegar and the mustard. The sauce, when properly made, must be as smooth and as thick as double cream.
Parsley and Butter, to serve with Calf's Head, Boiled Fowls, etc. (1877, USA)
Two tablespoonfuls of minced parsley, half a pint of melted butter. Put into a saucepan a small quantity of water, slightly salted, and when it boils, throw in a good bunch of parsley which has been previously washed and tied together in a bunch; let it boil for five minutes, drain it, mince the leaves very fine, and put the above quantity in a tureen; pour over it half a pint of smoothly-made melted butter; stir once, that the ingredients may be thoroughly mixed, and serve.
Two tablespoonfuls of minced parsley, half a pint of melted butter. Put into a saucepan a small quantity of water, slightly salted, and when it boils, throw in a good bunch of parsley which has been previously washed and tied together in a bunch; let it boil for five minutes, drain it, mince the leaves very fine, and put the above quantity in a tureen; pour over it half a pint of smoothly-made melted butter; stir once, that the ingredients may be thoroughly mixed, and serve.
Sauce Italienne. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
Two Shalots.
Six Mushrooms.
One ounce of Butter.
A sprig of Thyme.
Bay-leaf.
One gill of Sherry.
One ounce of Flour.
Half a pint of Second Stock. [remouillage - stock made from leftover bones]
Chop the shalots and mushrooms and fry them in the butter with the flour, thyme, and bay-leaf, till a good brown; then add the sherry, let it boil till reduced to half the quantity. Add the stock, and boil for ten minutes. Strain it, and it is ready for use.
Ingredients.
Two Shalots.
Six Mushrooms.
One ounce of Butter.
A sprig of Thyme.
Bay-leaf.
One gill of Sherry.
One ounce of Flour.
Half a pint of Second Stock. [remouillage - stock made from leftover bones]
Chop the shalots and mushrooms and fry them in the butter with the flour, thyme, and bay-leaf, till a good brown; then add the sherry, let it boil till reduced to half the quantity. Add the stock, and boil for ten minutes. Strain it, and it is ready for use.
Soup
Green Peas Soup. (1815, USA)
In shelling the peas, divide the old from the young; put the old ones, with an ounce of butter, a pint of water, the outside leaves of a lettuce or two, two onions, pepper, and salt, to stew till you can pulp the peas; and when you have done so, put to the liquor that stewed them some more water, the hearts and tender stalks of the lettuces, the young peas, a handful of spinach cut small, and salt and pepper to relish properly, and stew till quite soft. If the soup is too thin, or not rich enough, either of these faults may be removed by adding an ounce or two of butter, mixed with a spoonful of rice or wheat-flour, and boiled with it half an hour. Before serving, boil some green mint shred fine in the soup.
When there is plenty of vegetables, no meat is necessary, but if meat be preferred, a pig’s foot or ham-bone, &c. may be boiled with the old peas, which is called the stock. More butter than is mentioned above may be used with advantage, if the soup is required to be very rich.
When peas first come in, or are very young, the stock may be made of the shells washed, and boiled till they will pulp with the above; more thickening will then be wanted.
In shelling the peas, divide the old from the young; put the old ones, with an ounce of butter, a pint of water, the outside leaves of a lettuce or two, two onions, pepper, and salt, to stew till you can pulp the peas; and when you have done so, put to the liquor that stewed them some more water, the hearts and tender stalks of the lettuces, the young peas, a handful of spinach cut small, and salt and pepper to relish properly, and stew till quite soft. If the soup is too thin, or not rich enough, either of these faults may be removed by adding an ounce or two of butter, mixed with a spoonful of rice or wheat-flour, and boiled with it half an hour. Before serving, boil some green mint shred fine in the soup.
When there is plenty of vegetables, no meat is necessary, but if meat be preferred, a pig’s foot or ham-bone, &c. may be boiled with the old peas, which is called the stock. More butter than is mentioned above may be used with advantage, if the soup is required to be very rich.
When peas first come in, or are very young, the stock may be made of the shells washed, and boiled till they will pulp with the above; more thickening will then be wanted.
Parisian Soup. (1882, France)
Cut some leeks into pieces about one and a half inches long, warm in butter, and when brown put them into your stock with some slices of raw potato, and boil well. When cooked pour into the soup tureen over some slices of bread.
Cut some leeks into pieces about one and a half inches long, warm in butter, and when brown put them into your stock with some slices of raw potato, and boil well. When cooked pour into the soup tureen over some slices of bread.
Parsnip Soup. (1877, USA)
One pound of sliced parsnips, two ounces of butter, salt and Cayenne to taste, one quart of stock. Put the parsnips into the stewpan with the butter, which has previously melted, and simmer them till quite tender. Then add nearly a pint of stock, and boil together for half and hour. Pass all through a fine strainer, and put to it the remainder of the stock. Season, boil, and serve immediately.
One pound of sliced parsnips, two ounces of butter, salt and Cayenne to taste, one quart of stock. Put the parsnips into the stewpan with the butter, which has previously melted, and simmer them till quite tender. Then add nearly a pint of stock, and boil together for half and hour. Pass all through a fine strainer, and put to it the remainder of the stock. Season, boil, and serve immediately.
Potage à la Royale. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
Three pints of White Stock
Two ounces of cooked Macaroni.
Three yolks of Eggs.
One ounce of grated Parmesan Cheese.
One gill of Cream.
Salt and Cayenne.
Put the stock in a stewpan to boil; mix the eggs and cream together in a basin, pour them into the stock with a little salt, and stir till the eggs are cooked; then draw it off the fire and add the macaroni, cut up in pieces half an inch long, the grated cheese and a little cayenne. The soup must not boil after the cheese is in, or it will be spoilt.
Ingredients.
Three pints of White Stock
Two ounces of cooked Macaroni.
Three yolks of Eggs.
One ounce of grated Parmesan Cheese.
One gill of Cream.
Salt and Cayenne.
Put the stock in a stewpan to boil; mix the eggs and cream together in a basin, pour them into the stock with a little salt, and stir till the eggs are cooked; then draw it off the fire and add the macaroni, cut up in pieces half an inch long, the grated cheese and a little cayenne. The soup must not boil after the cheese is in, or it will be spoilt.
Stock. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
Four pounds of Shin of Beef.
One Carrot.
One Turnip.
One Onion.
Half a head of Celery.
One teaspoonful of Salt.
Five pints of Water.
Cut the meat from the shin into small pieces. Break the bones and remove the marrow. Put the meat, bones, and water into a stewpan. Put the stewpan on the fire and add the salt. Remove the scum as it rises, and when the stock is well skimmed and boiling, put in the vegetables all cleaned and cut into large pieces. Let the stock boil slowly for five hours. Then strain it through a hair-sieve into a basin, and let it get cold. White Stock is made in this way, only use all white meat, such as veal, poultry bones, etc.
Ingredients.
Four pounds of Shin of Beef.
One Carrot.
One Turnip.
One Onion.
Half a head of Celery.
One teaspoonful of Salt.
Five pints of Water.
Cut the meat from the shin into small pieces. Break the bones and remove the marrow. Put the meat, bones, and water into a stewpan. Put the stewpan on the fire and add the salt. Remove the scum as it rises, and when the stock is well skimmed and boiling, put in the vegetables all cleaned and cut into large pieces. Let the stock boil slowly for five hours. Then strain it through a hair-sieve into a basin, and let it get cold. White Stock is made in this way, only use all white meat, such as veal, poultry bones, etc.
To Make Pease Porridge. (1747, England)
Take a quart of green pease [peas], put to them a quart of water, a bundle of dried mint, and a little salt. Let them boil till the pease are quite tender; then put in some beaten pepper, a piece of butter as big as a walnut, rolled in flour, stir it all together, and let it boil a few minutes; then add two quarts of milk, let it boil a quarter of an hour, take out the mint, and serve it up.
Take a quart of green pease [peas], put to them a quart of water, a bundle of dried mint, and a little salt. Let them boil till the pease are quite tender; then put in some beaten pepper, a piece of butter as big as a walnut, rolled in flour, stir it all together, and let it boil a few minutes; then add two quarts of milk, let it boil a quarter of an hour, take out the mint, and serve it up.
Vegetables, Eggs and Tomatoes
Jerusalem Artichokes à l'Italienne. (1885, England)
Ingredients.
Two pounds of Artichokes.
One gill of Consomme.
Two ounces of Butter.
Pepper and Salt.
Nutmeg.
Lemon-juice.
Italian Sauce (see Entrées) [found under "Sauces and Toppings"]. Wash and peel the artichokes, shaping them like small pears, of even sizes. Butter a stewpan with two ounces of butter, and arrange the artichokes in circles in it, sprinkle over a little pepper, salt, nutmeg and lemon-juice; pour one gill of consomme to them, put the lid on, and simmer gently for half an hour, basting them occasionally; they should colour a deep yellow. Just before serving, roll them in the consomme. Serve with Italian sauce round them.
Ingredients.
Two pounds of Artichokes.
One gill of Consomme.
Two ounces of Butter.
Pepper and Salt.
Nutmeg.
Lemon-juice.
Italian Sauce (see Entrées) [found under "Sauces and Toppings"]. Wash and peel the artichokes, shaping them like small pears, of even sizes. Butter a stewpan with two ounces of butter, and arrange the artichokes in circles in it, sprinkle over a little pepper, salt, nutmeg and lemon-juice; pour one gill of consomme to them, put the lid on, and simmer gently for half an hour, basting them occasionally; they should colour a deep yellow. Just before serving, roll them in the consomme. Serve with Italian sauce round them.
Mashed Potatoes. (1747, England)
Boil your potatoes, peel them, and put them into a saucepan, mash them well; to two pounds of potatoes put a pint of milk, a little salt, stir them well together, take care they don't stick to the bottom, then take a quarter of a pound of butter, stir it in, and serve it up.
Boil your potatoes, peel them, and put them into a saucepan, mash them well; to two pounds of potatoes put a pint of milk, a little salt, stir them well together, take care they don't stick to the bottom, then take a quarter of a pound of butter, stir it in, and serve it up.
Omelet à la Jardinière. (1882, France)
Stew some chopped mushrooms, carrots, turnips, French beans, herbs, young green peas, and broad beans in stock; when done, stir in a little brown thickening; take half the vegetables, beat together with twelve eggs, and cook your omelet in the usual manner. Serve, covered with the remainder of the stewed vegetables.
Stew some chopped mushrooms, carrots, turnips, French beans, herbs, young green peas, and broad beans in stock; when done, stir in a little brown thickening; take half the vegetables, beat together with twelve eggs, and cook your omelet in the usual manner. Serve, covered with the remainder of the stewed vegetables.
Stuffed Cabbage. (1882, France)
Choose a large white, close cabbage, take off all the hard green outside leaves, and blanch it; cut out the heart and press between two plates to squeeze out all water. Make a stuffing with finely-minced sausage-meat, four yolks of egg and marrow, mix well together and spread a teaspoonful between each leaf, tie up the cabbage to its original shape—be careful not to cut the leaves with the string—simmer over a slow fire in stock, season with a bouquet of herbs, onions, a saveloy, carrots, a pinch of grated nutmeg, salt, and black pepper, cover the whole with slices of bacon; shake the stew-pan occasionally so that the cabbage may not stick to the bottom and get burnt. Dish up the cabbage after cutting off the string. Pass the sauce through a tammy [tamis], clear of all grease, stir in a little thin browning, and pour over the cabbage.
Choose a large white, close cabbage, take off all the hard green outside leaves, and blanch it; cut out the heart and press between two plates to squeeze out all water. Make a stuffing with finely-minced sausage-meat, four yolks of egg and marrow, mix well together and spread a teaspoonful between each leaf, tie up the cabbage to its original shape—be careful not to cut the leaves with the string—simmer over a slow fire in stock, season with a bouquet of herbs, onions, a saveloy, carrots, a pinch of grated nutmeg, salt, and black pepper, cover the whole with slices of bacon; shake the stew-pan occasionally so that the cabbage may not stick to the bottom and get burnt. Dish up the cabbage after cutting off the string. Pass the sauce through a tammy [tamis], clear of all grease, stir in a little thin browning, and pour over the cabbage.
Stuffed Tomatoes. (1882, France)
Dip your tomatoes into boiling water for a minute, peel, make a hole near the stalk, scoop out the centre of the tomatoes with a small spoon, and place them on a buttered or oiled sheet of paper in a baking tin. Make a stuffing with sausagemeat and very thin tomato sauce, fill the tomatoes with this, sprinkle with grated bread-crust, and bake. Serve as soon as the stuffing is browned.
Dip your tomatoes into boiling water for a minute, peel, make a hole near the stalk, scoop out the centre of the tomatoes with a small spoon, and place them on a buttered or oiled sheet of paper in a baking tin. Make a stuffing with sausagemeat and very thin tomato sauce, fill the tomatoes with this, sprinkle with grated bread-crust, and bake. Serve as soon as the stuffing is browned.
White Beans à la Maître d'Hôtel. (1822, France)
White beans, when new and fresh, must be put into boiling water. But if they are dry, they must be soaked for an hour in cold water, before you boil them. Then boil them in cold water, and replenish with cold water also, which makes the rind or coat tender. White beans must be well done before you dress them a la maître d'hôtel, which is done as follows: trim a stew-pan with a quarter of a pound of fresh butter, a little parsley chopped very fine, and some pepper and salt, over which lay the beans, well drained. Keep moving the stew-pan without using a spoon, for fear of crumbling the beans. Then squeeze the juice of half a lemon, and send up quite hot.
White beans, when new and fresh, must be put into boiling water. But if they are dry, they must be soaked for an hour in cold water, before you boil them. Then boil them in cold water, and replenish with cold water also, which makes the rind or coat tender. White beans must be well done before you dress them a la maître d'hôtel, which is done as follows: trim a stew-pan with a quarter of a pound of fresh butter, a little parsley chopped very fine, and some pepper and salt, over which lay the beans, well drained. Keep moving the stew-pan without using a spoon, for fear of crumbling the beans. Then squeeze the juice of half a lemon, and send up quite hot.
Tips
Meats and Their Accompaniments. (1898, USA)
With Roast Beef.—Tomato sauce, grated horseradish, mustard, cranberry sauce, pickles.
With Roast Pork.— Apple sauce and cranberry sauce.
With Roast Veal.— Tomato sauce, mushroom sauce, onion sauce, cranberry sauce. Horseradish and lemons are good.
With Mutton.— Currant jelly, caper sauce.
With Boiled Mutton.— Onion sauce and caper sauce.
Boiled Fowls.— Bread sauce, onion sauce, lemon sauce, cream sauce, cranberry sauce, jellies.
With Roast Lamb.— Mint sauce.
With Roast Turkey.— Cranberry sauce, currant jelly.
With Boiled Turkey.— Oyster sauce.
With Venison or Wild Ducks.— Cranberry sauce, or currant jelly.
With Roast Goose.— Apple sauce, cranberry sauce, grape or currant jelly.
With Fresh Mackerel.— Stewed gooseberries.
With Boiled Bluefish.— White cream sauce, or lemon sauce.
With Boiled Shad.—Mushroom sauce, parsley sauce, or egg sauce.
With Fresh Salmon.— Green peas, cream sauce.
With Roast Beef.—Tomato sauce, grated horseradish, mustard, cranberry sauce, pickles.
With Roast Pork.— Apple sauce and cranberry sauce.
With Roast Veal.— Tomato sauce, mushroom sauce, onion sauce, cranberry sauce. Horseradish and lemons are good.
With Mutton.— Currant jelly, caper sauce.
With Boiled Mutton.— Onion sauce and caper sauce.
Boiled Fowls.— Bread sauce, onion sauce, lemon sauce, cream sauce, cranberry sauce, jellies.
With Roast Lamb.— Mint sauce.
With Roast Turkey.— Cranberry sauce, currant jelly.
With Boiled Turkey.— Oyster sauce.
With Venison or Wild Ducks.— Cranberry sauce, or currant jelly.
With Roast Goose.— Apple sauce, cranberry sauce, grape or currant jelly.
With Fresh Mackerel.— Stewed gooseberries.
With Boiled Bluefish.— White cream sauce, or lemon sauce.
With Boiled Shad.—Mushroom sauce, parsley sauce, or egg sauce.
With Fresh Salmon.— Green peas, cream sauce.
Substitutes for Eggs. (1815, USA)
Or snow is an excellent substitute for eggs, either in puddings or pancakes. Two large spoonfuls will supply the place of one egg, and the article it is used in will be equally good. This is a useful piece of information, especially as snow falls at the season when eggs are dearest. Fresh small beer, or bottled malt liquors, likewise serve instead of eggs. The snow may be taken up from any clean spot before it is wanted, and will not lose its virtue: though the sooner it is used the better.
Or snow is an excellent substitute for eggs, either in puddings or pancakes. Two large spoonfuls will supply the place of one egg, and the article it is used in will be equally good. This is a useful piece of information, especially as snow falls at the season when eggs are dearest. Fresh small beer, or bottled malt liquors, likewise serve instead of eggs. The snow may be taken up from any clean spot before it is wanted, and will not lose its virtue: though the sooner it is used the better.
Order of Dinner. (1882, France)
The art of giving dinners consists in the knowledge of certain rules, consecrated by custom and determined by fashion, as to the choice of dishes and the reason of their selection, according to time and circumstances.
Every country has its different customs which very much depend on the climate and character of its people.
But I will now only speak about the manner of serving dinners in our beautiful country of France, as I feel I need go no further for fashions; all the world acknowledges that it is from us that the most varied culinary resources come, and it is also in France that the cleverest artists have devoted their talents to the preparation of dishes, with which to enrich our bills of fare. In fact, it is to us that all fashions of different nations are brought to be accepted according to their merits, and this exchange of new thoughts and ideas has created what is called "fashionable life."
Decorations Of The Dinner-table.
How to lay the Covers.—The Order of Dinner.
Formerly dinner-tables were heavily decorated with massive bronze, silver, and cut-glass ornaments, which prevented the guests from seeing each other across the table, and rendered conversation with your opposite neighbor impossible. At the present time, these ornaments have been superseded by low flower-baskets of either glass or silver. Formerly candelabra only held four or five candles, now they hold as many as fourteen or fifteen, so we require fewer and have more light.
Each guest must have a tumbler and three wine-glasses placed on his right-hand side, arranged according to the order in which the wines are served. First, Madeira; second, Bordeaux; third, Champagne. During dinner extra wines have special glasses handed with them. Finger-glasses with warm water must be handed after crayfish or prawns.
The dessert plates must always have a doiley and a fingerglass placed on them.
There are two different ways of serving dinner,—the French and the Russian.
The French dinner is divided into three courses, the first comprises soup, small side dishes, fish, and entrées; the second, roasts, vegetables, and sweets; the third, dessert, each course being all placed on the table at the same time.
The Russian fashion is to place all cold dishes on the table. The hot dishes are carved in the kitchen and handed one by one to the guests. Each of these arrangements has its advantages and disadvantages. In the French fashion your dishes often get cold before you can eat them, and in the Russian the guests are deprived of seeing elegant dishes prettily placed on the table.
However, it lies entirely in the hands of the host to choose between these two fashions, according to the capabilities of his household.
The art of giving dinners consists in the knowledge of certain rules, consecrated by custom and determined by fashion, as to the choice of dishes and the reason of their selection, according to time and circumstances.
Every country has its different customs which very much depend on the climate and character of its people.
But I will now only speak about the manner of serving dinners in our beautiful country of France, as I feel I need go no further for fashions; all the world acknowledges that it is from us that the most varied culinary resources come, and it is also in France that the cleverest artists have devoted their talents to the preparation of dishes, with which to enrich our bills of fare. In fact, it is to us that all fashions of different nations are brought to be accepted according to their merits, and this exchange of new thoughts and ideas has created what is called "fashionable life."
Decorations Of The Dinner-table.
How to lay the Covers.—The Order of Dinner.
Formerly dinner-tables were heavily decorated with massive bronze, silver, and cut-glass ornaments, which prevented the guests from seeing each other across the table, and rendered conversation with your opposite neighbor impossible. At the present time, these ornaments have been superseded by low flower-baskets of either glass or silver. Formerly candelabra only held four or five candles, now they hold as many as fourteen or fifteen, so we require fewer and have more light.
Each guest must have a tumbler and three wine-glasses placed on his right-hand side, arranged according to the order in which the wines are served. First, Madeira; second, Bordeaux; third, Champagne. During dinner extra wines have special glasses handed with them. Finger-glasses with warm water must be handed after crayfish or prawns.
The dessert plates must always have a doiley and a fingerglass placed on them.
There are two different ways of serving dinner,—the French and the Russian.
The French dinner is divided into three courses, the first comprises soup, small side dishes, fish, and entrées; the second, roasts, vegetables, and sweets; the third, dessert, each course being all placed on the table at the same time.
The Russian fashion is to place all cold dishes on the table. The hot dishes are carved in the kitchen and handed one by one to the guests. Each of these arrangements has its advantages and disadvantages. In the French fashion your dishes often get cold before you can eat them, and in the Russian the guests are deprived of seeing elegant dishes prettily placed on the table.
However, it lies entirely in the hands of the host to choose between these two fashions, according to the capabilities of his household.
Order In Which To Serve Dinner.
Soups.
Small side dishes, viz. Sardines, Radishes, &c.
Melon.
Small hot side dishes, viz., Stuffed Olives, Marrow-bones, &c.
Fish.
Joint.
Entrées of Meat, Fowl, and Game.
Cold entrées.
Punch Ice.
(The punch must always be served between "the cold entrées and the game.")
Roast Chickens and Game.
Salad.
Dressed Vegetables.
Sweets.
After this clear the table of everything, except flowers and fruit, and hand cheese, fruits, cakes, bonbons, and ices. Coffee and liqueurs are handed in the drawing-room.
Order In Which The Wines Are Handed.
During the whole of dinner, well-iced dry and sweet champagne must be served.
After the soup.
Madeira and Vermouth.
With the fish.
Burgundies: either Beaune, Volnay, or Pomard.
Clarets: either Mouton, Rausan-Segla, Leoville, Gruand-Larose, Lascombes, Pichon-Longueville, Clos-d'Estournel, or Monrose.
Between the cold entrées and the game, offer with the punch ice either Château Yquem or Rhine wine; these wines must only be slightly iced, and served in green glasses.
With the roasts and dressed vegetables.
Burgundies: La Romanée Conti, Clos Vougeot, or Chambertin.
Clarets: Château Lafite, Margaux, Latour or Hautbrion.
With the sweets.
Sherry.
During dessert.
Sweet wines, such as Malmsey, Muscatel, or Tokay.
Soups.
Small side dishes, viz. Sardines, Radishes, &c.
Melon.
Small hot side dishes, viz., Stuffed Olives, Marrow-bones, &c.
Fish.
Joint.
Entrées of Meat, Fowl, and Game.
Cold entrées.
Punch Ice.
(The punch must always be served between "the cold entrées and the game.")
Roast Chickens and Game.
Salad.
Dressed Vegetables.
Sweets.
After this clear the table of everything, except flowers and fruit, and hand cheese, fruits, cakes, bonbons, and ices. Coffee and liqueurs are handed in the drawing-room.
Order In Which The Wines Are Handed.
During the whole of dinner, well-iced dry and sweet champagne must be served.
After the soup.
Madeira and Vermouth.
With the fish.
Burgundies: either Beaune, Volnay, or Pomard.
Clarets: either Mouton, Rausan-Segla, Leoville, Gruand-Larose, Lascombes, Pichon-Longueville, Clos-d'Estournel, or Monrose.
Between the cold entrées and the game, offer with the punch ice either Château Yquem or Rhine wine; these wines must only be slightly iced, and served in green glasses.
With the roasts and dressed vegetables.
Burgundies: La Romanée Conti, Clos Vougeot, or Chambertin.
Clarets: Château Lafite, Margaux, Latour or Hautbrion.
With the sweets.
Sherry.
During dessert.
Sweet wines, such as Malmsey, Muscatel, or Tokay.
Duties Of The Host To His Guests.
You must welcome your guests with effusion, so that they may feel quite at home before sitting down to dinner. Try if possible to introduce your guests to each other before dinner, particularly if you think there are two people who will sympathize with each other. The decision how to place the guests at table must always be a troublesome business for the host; in fact, I consider this the most difficult part of giving a dinner, if you wish it to go off well. The host must always have his eye on his guests' plates and glasses, to make sure they have all they require; and if a guest refuses a dish, the host must try and persuade him to change his mind. A host whose guest has had to ask for anything is a dishonoured man.
Duties Of A Guest Towards His Host.
The first duty of a guest is to be punctual. Unpunctuality must necessarily cause confusion in the kitchen. A dish you have had to wait for is generally good, whilst a dish which has had to wait is generally the contrary. The result is that the cook gets demoralized, he loses his temper at the dinner not being appreciated, and certainly it is sufficient cause to discourage the best of chefs. In consequence it follows that the cook gets into the bad habit of sacrificing the flavour of a dish to the form of serving, finding he has not given satisfaction in the cooking, he tries to please the eye. I cannot speak too strongly on the affectation of being late for dinner, and a good host ought not to wait for one or two people who are late whilst five or six others are watching the hands of the clock and yawning convulsively, a sure proof of how hungry they are. Shame on unpunctual people! These persons are sometimes called inexact, but it is a wrong name to give them; for a really inexact man will arrive one day ten minutes before his time and the next day ten minutes after, but unpunctual people are very exact, they always come late.
They are generally people who find it is the only means of attracting attention, and there are others who think it makes them of importance.
Unpunctuality really means a wish to force people to acknowledge their slavery to the laws of society.
You must welcome your guests with effusion, so that they may feel quite at home before sitting down to dinner. Try if possible to introduce your guests to each other before dinner, particularly if you think there are two people who will sympathize with each other. The decision how to place the guests at table must always be a troublesome business for the host; in fact, I consider this the most difficult part of giving a dinner, if you wish it to go off well. The host must always have his eye on his guests' plates and glasses, to make sure they have all they require; and if a guest refuses a dish, the host must try and persuade him to change his mind. A host whose guest has had to ask for anything is a dishonoured man.
Duties Of A Guest Towards His Host.
The first duty of a guest is to be punctual. Unpunctuality must necessarily cause confusion in the kitchen. A dish you have had to wait for is generally good, whilst a dish which has had to wait is generally the contrary. The result is that the cook gets demoralized, he loses his temper at the dinner not being appreciated, and certainly it is sufficient cause to discourage the best of chefs. In consequence it follows that the cook gets into the bad habit of sacrificing the flavour of a dish to the form of serving, finding he has not given satisfaction in the cooking, he tries to please the eye. I cannot speak too strongly on the affectation of being late for dinner, and a good host ought not to wait for one or two people who are late whilst five or six others are watching the hands of the clock and yawning convulsively, a sure proof of how hungry they are. Shame on unpunctual people! These persons are sometimes called inexact, but it is a wrong name to give them; for a really inexact man will arrive one day ten minutes before his time and the next day ten minutes after, but unpunctual people are very exact, they always come late.
They are generally people who find it is the only means of attracting attention, and there are others who think it makes them of importance.
Unpunctuality really means a wish to force people to acknowledge their slavery to the laws of society.
Provision Calendar. (1882, France)
January.
Under the first kings of France the year commenced on the 1st of March, but during Charlemagne's reign it was altered to Christmas-time; after Hugh Capet it was changed to Easter; and under Charles IX., the lover of the beautiful Marie Touchet, the anagram of whose name is "Je charme tout," the 1st of January became New Year's day; and it was announced all over Paris with a flourish of trumpets that for the future the 31st of December would close the year. This was a very good decision, for January is worthy of being the first month of the year; the winter season blessed by all gourmands now commences. I have before my eyes an engraving of the sixteenth century, where the twelve months of the year are represented by as many figures.
January is personified by a man at table; he is eating like Gargantua, and drinking like Bassompierre, who used to drink a large butt of wine at one draught to the health of the thirteen Swiss cantons; not like St Macaire of Alexandria, whose saint's day is the 2nd of January, for he only used to eat one leaf of raw cabbage every Sunday; but much more like Charlemagne. January is without doubt the great month for eating.
Provisions in season during January.
All butcher's meat is good, and fattened poultry are in their prime. Added to the usual game, we have woodcock, larks, geese, and wild duck. The Mediterranean provides us with fresh tunny, and all other fish are in perfection. Truffles have more perfume than at any other time of the year. The first forced asparagus comes into the markets.
February.
In all the old almanacks February is represented by an old man warming himself; he is poking the fire and shivering like Méry, who always wished that the summer would come and spend the winter at Marseilles. This legendary figure seems to say to us, "Pray make yourselves comfortable."
During this month indigestion is the order of the day. We are in carnival time, which Jules Janin translates as "Adieu to flesh;" carnival, with all its follies and intemperances. Avalanches of truffled fowls and pies of the most tempting description come from the sacred places where truffles are produced. How is it possible not to succumb? The temptation is too great! Much eating conduces to much drinking, and this can never be more safely done than before Lent; the military man is able to carry his wine; the southerner need not fear sunstroke, and the northerner does not get into a fog. The great gastronomical battle always takes place during Shrovetide; after which the gastronomical year may be said to close, and a little diet is most necessary; Lent might almost be called the gourmand's holiday.
Provisions in season during February.
We have all the same as in January, with the exception of a few more forced vegetables. Butcher's meat continues in perfection. Game is scarcer, but excellent. The plump white woodhens are at their best, particularly those from Bains, in the Vosges; and we must not forget to shed a tear for the redbreast, which we are deprived of having at our tables by the gentlemen of the Museum of Natural History, who have forbidden their being killed. These professors have most assuredly never tasted this little bird, or they would never have issued this law.
March.
Repose is as much the result of a well-organized digestion as of a quiet mind. The fatigues of the carnival are only a dream in March, and Châteaubriand always told Madame Recamier that the most beautiful half of our lives was composed of our memories. We must religiously recommence to enjoy the rich gifts which are provided for lovers of gastronomy. We have kept Lent amongst our traditions, simply to give historical pleasure to St. Matthew, St. Mark, and Pope Telesphore, not forgetting the lovers of the God "Fish." No one looks on Lent with sadness. A peasant, who had once been a rich man's servant, was heard to say, "I cannot fast, it is far too expensive; for to fast you must have water game, Geneva trout, carp from the Rhine, forced fruit and vegetables, truffles and champagne." The peasant was perfectly right, for surely the meals of some of our most religious devotees cannot be put under the category of "Abstinence."
Provisions in season during March.
Butcher's meat is not quite so good, but it is the effect of spring weather on the cattle. We have to fall back on the sea for our resources, not by throwing ourselves into it from a rock, like the unhappy Sappho, but by welcoming myriads of turbot, brill, soles, lobsters, and especially oysters, which are better now than at any other time of the year. Hens begin to lay abundantly, and we have forced asparagus, artichokes, radishes, lettuce, peas, French beans, and cauliflowers.
April.
Palm Sunday and Easter are generally celebrated in this month, and so naturally we come to the Pascal Lamb; other lambs meekly fall under the butcher's knife, and hams present themselves under the triple banner of York, Mayence, and Bayonne. Three cheers for the pork-butchers! No wonder that even poets have sung in their praises. Butcher's meat begins to improve and the first outdoor vegetables, such as asparagus and green peas, gladden the hearts of kings and peasants. In contradistinction to these earthly constellations, we are rejoiced by the sight of a sea star, namely, mackerel, which is so frequently dressed maître d'hôtel. Kings have often in vain named towns and monuments, but mackerel à la maître d'hôtel is a dish for all centuries. The shad leaves the sea, and comes up the rivers, to try and console us for the loss of game and good poultry.
It is true we are still a little under the shadows of Lent, but nature is waking us up to more joyous feelings. Vegetables and many-coloured flowers refresh our eyes, and we have arrived at the season when our superior feelings of justice must decide against those of the poultry-yard, as regards spring chickens. Mackerel are usually the avantcouriers of sturgeon, which latter fish you can at present buy very cheaply in Paris, no doubt from its having caused many an indigestion when larded with fillets of eel and anchovy and basted with thick crayfish sauce.
Provisions in season during April.
The same as in March, with the exception of a few more vegetables.
May.
This month is often called the month of Mary, without any prejudice to August, which is not only the special month dedicated to the Virgin, but also to the Emperor Augustus. During May lovers and gourmands are of the same mind, the markets try to vie with nature, and deck themselves out gaily with spring chickens, young fowls, and the adorable duckling from Rouen and Nantes, all of which come to gladden our eyes. Amiable tame pigeons, tender as doves, are especially abundant and good just now, they mingle so gracefully with green peas and make a most delicious dish. Fresh morels make their appearance with their sweet perfume and flavour; dear amiable, juicy little morels which are so easy of digestion. We receive millions of artichokes and early vegetables from the south, and we thank it heartily for our anticipated enjoyments, but we must not forget that the finest fruit and vegetables come from "Île de France." Welcome also to the fresh butter which, thanks, to the young grass, is now in perfection.
Provisions in season during May.
Vegetables are more abundant; besides which we have melons, French beans, cauliflowers, and cucumbers, early peas, broad beans, lettuce, and young turnips, forced strawberries, and cherries.
June.
Here we are at the last month of spring, and it is specially celebrated for its beautiful red fruits and flowers. No one can dine better than the bees do this month. Let us follow their good example and abandon to a certain extent our carnivorous tastes, and enjoy all the savoury and abundant productions which are in season. We now have fine young fowls to charm us, and their number is further augmented by invaluable turkey poults and gallant young cocks, which we must no more confound with the interesting capon, than we would compare a fine opera singer with one of the choir at the Sistine Chapel.
Provisions in season during June.
Under glass: egg-plants, cucumbers, and tomatoes.
We can no longer count on asparagus, but out of doors there are French beans, spinach, Morella cherries, raspberries, cherries, strawberries, currants, and gooseberries.
July.
During this month the poultry-yard is in its full glory. There are fattened turkey poults, pullets, and capons. We must not forget veal, which is at its prime. Our markets are filled with river and sea fish; but we must begin to examine our fish critically from head to tail. The hay having been cut, we are enabled to catch crayfish, the little red fish which goes backwards, and which naturalists say is not a fish, is not red, and does not go backwards. Now is the time to make use of the well-flavoured young rabbits which are in season, and with these resources our dinners can be charmingly varied, whatever any one may say to the contrary. An experienced dinner-eater is far too clever to grumble at imaginary deprivations during the month of July.
Provisions in season during July.
All vegetables are in season, and potatoes in abundance. Figs, apricots, peaches, early pears, and apples are now ripe.
August.
August was the Emperor Augustus' favourite month, and no one can have been a better judge of a good dinner than he was. This emperor had the whole world at his feet, and he could well set heat and cold at defiance. Rome was at this time not only the capital of the world, but also of gastronomy. Everything worth having was brought to Rome, without Augustus having to exclaim, as did Louis XIV., "I had almost to wait." Large cities become deserted in August on account of the great heat, and people either go to the country, to the sea-side, or to drink the waters. They go about the country and fields, and do not think much about eating. However, at the end of the month shooting begins, and gourmands are provided with young quail, leverets, and young wild boar. Other game is not worth much just yet.
Provisions in season during August.
The same as in July. Melons, figs, peaches, plums, pears, green almonds, green walnuts, and all kinds of vegetables.
September.
Partridge-shooting commences, and at the same time the vintages in the wine districts. Now is the season when you begin to eat with thought. All butcher's meat is good. Game will improve, but we get much which is very good. Thrushes have pecked sufficiently at the grapes to make them worth eating. Sea fish is abundant, and all fruits are in perfection. Truffles and oysters make their appearance very timidly. It is better not to be too familiar with them just yet, so as to enable your palate to get in order, and also to allow the sun to put out a few of its fires, after which you will enjoy them with the enthusiasm which they deserve. William the Conqueror took England for the sake of an oyster-bed, and Talleyrand governed the world by the aid of truffles. Young plover begin to appear, and Guignard says they are the most delicate-eating bird. Certainly they know the art of making them into delicious pies at Chartres.
Provisions in season during September.
September eggs are very good, though not to be compared to those laid in May. Artichokes are better now than at any other time of the year, and it is time to pick our nuts.
October.
It is for poets to make odes to spring, and for gourmands to make verses to autumn. Happy month of October, its only fault being that it is the last month of the gourmand's holiday. During October nature is still beautiful, and all food is good. It always brings back to me the happiest reminiscences. I can almost feel the sweet air of the woods blow against my face. What a jovial season! We are so gay, so strong, and have such an appetite. Thank God, I have always kept my lightheartedness, vigour, and appetite; but when I think of some of the companions of my youth, years gone by, oh! what phantoms they now are, with no digestion, dull eyes, trembling hands that can hardly hold either fork or glass; they may perhaps enjoy fortune and honours, but what wouldn't they give to be able to enjoy a good dinner as I do? When Brutus was dying of hunger after a defeat, he exclaimed, "Fortune is but a name."
Provisions in season during October.
Added to pears and apples we now have almonds, medlars, and chestnuts.
November.
Here we are in cold and foggy November, the gastronomical scene has changed; yesterday we were in the country, to-day we find ourselves in town. The actors are the same, only feeling much strengthened and determined to brave indigestion, which after all can only be called "Remorse of the stomach." We have one recruit in our culinary army, a very unpretentious one, but that does not prevent its assaulting our appetite: I mean the fresh herring with soft roe, and eaten with mustard sauce. There is a saying that many people die in November, so I advise my friends to have more than one invitation to dinner for the same day, so that if one host fails, they can always have recourse to another to console them.
Provisions in season during November.
We are no longer troubled about provisions, our duty is to eat them.
December.
The festive season has now arrived for those gourmands, mostly bachelors who, like Rabelais, always dine out, and show their gratitude by not returning the hospitality offered to them. The hour of execution has sounded, but what an amount of tact is required not to give offence. Who are we to please, husband, wife, father-in-law, or mother-in-law? Try now, you husbands, who keep your house with a firm hand, and arrange the invitations. I make a bet that the mother-in-law has her own way; all I warn the guest to do is not to remind the mother-in-law that he remembers her in the comet year of 1811, or that the tail of her pet dog does not curl, for it would be sad to end the year with an empty stomach.
Provisions in season the same as in November.
January.
Under the first kings of France the year commenced on the 1st of March, but during Charlemagne's reign it was altered to Christmas-time; after Hugh Capet it was changed to Easter; and under Charles IX., the lover of the beautiful Marie Touchet, the anagram of whose name is "Je charme tout," the 1st of January became New Year's day; and it was announced all over Paris with a flourish of trumpets that for the future the 31st of December would close the year. This was a very good decision, for January is worthy of being the first month of the year; the winter season blessed by all gourmands now commences. I have before my eyes an engraving of the sixteenth century, where the twelve months of the year are represented by as many figures.
January is personified by a man at table; he is eating like Gargantua, and drinking like Bassompierre, who used to drink a large butt of wine at one draught to the health of the thirteen Swiss cantons; not like St Macaire of Alexandria, whose saint's day is the 2nd of January, for he only used to eat one leaf of raw cabbage every Sunday; but much more like Charlemagne. January is without doubt the great month for eating.
Provisions in season during January.
All butcher's meat is good, and fattened poultry are in their prime. Added to the usual game, we have woodcock, larks, geese, and wild duck. The Mediterranean provides us with fresh tunny, and all other fish are in perfection. Truffles have more perfume than at any other time of the year. The first forced asparagus comes into the markets.
February.
In all the old almanacks February is represented by an old man warming himself; he is poking the fire and shivering like Méry, who always wished that the summer would come and spend the winter at Marseilles. This legendary figure seems to say to us, "Pray make yourselves comfortable."
During this month indigestion is the order of the day. We are in carnival time, which Jules Janin translates as "Adieu to flesh;" carnival, with all its follies and intemperances. Avalanches of truffled fowls and pies of the most tempting description come from the sacred places where truffles are produced. How is it possible not to succumb? The temptation is too great! Much eating conduces to much drinking, and this can never be more safely done than before Lent; the military man is able to carry his wine; the southerner need not fear sunstroke, and the northerner does not get into a fog. The great gastronomical battle always takes place during Shrovetide; after which the gastronomical year may be said to close, and a little diet is most necessary; Lent might almost be called the gourmand's holiday.
Provisions in season during February.
We have all the same as in January, with the exception of a few more forced vegetables. Butcher's meat continues in perfection. Game is scarcer, but excellent. The plump white woodhens are at their best, particularly those from Bains, in the Vosges; and we must not forget to shed a tear for the redbreast, which we are deprived of having at our tables by the gentlemen of the Museum of Natural History, who have forbidden their being killed. These professors have most assuredly never tasted this little bird, or they would never have issued this law.
March.
Repose is as much the result of a well-organized digestion as of a quiet mind. The fatigues of the carnival are only a dream in March, and Châteaubriand always told Madame Recamier that the most beautiful half of our lives was composed of our memories. We must religiously recommence to enjoy the rich gifts which are provided for lovers of gastronomy. We have kept Lent amongst our traditions, simply to give historical pleasure to St. Matthew, St. Mark, and Pope Telesphore, not forgetting the lovers of the God "Fish." No one looks on Lent with sadness. A peasant, who had once been a rich man's servant, was heard to say, "I cannot fast, it is far too expensive; for to fast you must have water game, Geneva trout, carp from the Rhine, forced fruit and vegetables, truffles and champagne." The peasant was perfectly right, for surely the meals of some of our most religious devotees cannot be put under the category of "Abstinence."
Provisions in season during March.
Butcher's meat is not quite so good, but it is the effect of spring weather on the cattle. We have to fall back on the sea for our resources, not by throwing ourselves into it from a rock, like the unhappy Sappho, but by welcoming myriads of turbot, brill, soles, lobsters, and especially oysters, which are better now than at any other time of the year. Hens begin to lay abundantly, and we have forced asparagus, artichokes, radishes, lettuce, peas, French beans, and cauliflowers.
April.
Palm Sunday and Easter are generally celebrated in this month, and so naturally we come to the Pascal Lamb; other lambs meekly fall under the butcher's knife, and hams present themselves under the triple banner of York, Mayence, and Bayonne. Three cheers for the pork-butchers! No wonder that even poets have sung in their praises. Butcher's meat begins to improve and the first outdoor vegetables, such as asparagus and green peas, gladden the hearts of kings and peasants. In contradistinction to these earthly constellations, we are rejoiced by the sight of a sea star, namely, mackerel, which is so frequently dressed maître d'hôtel. Kings have often in vain named towns and monuments, but mackerel à la maître d'hôtel is a dish for all centuries. The shad leaves the sea, and comes up the rivers, to try and console us for the loss of game and good poultry.
It is true we are still a little under the shadows of Lent, but nature is waking us up to more joyous feelings. Vegetables and many-coloured flowers refresh our eyes, and we have arrived at the season when our superior feelings of justice must decide against those of the poultry-yard, as regards spring chickens. Mackerel are usually the avantcouriers of sturgeon, which latter fish you can at present buy very cheaply in Paris, no doubt from its having caused many an indigestion when larded with fillets of eel and anchovy and basted with thick crayfish sauce.
Provisions in season during April.
The same as in March, with the exception of a few more vegetables.
May.
This month is often called the month of Mary, without any prejudice to August, which is not only the special month dedicated to the Virgin, but also to the Emperor Augustus. During May lovers and gourmands are of the same mind, the markets try to vie with nature, and deck themselves out gaily with spring chickens, young fowls, and the adorable duckling from Rouen and Nantes, all of which come to gladden our eyes. Amiable tame pigeons, tender as doves, are especially abundant and good just now, they mingle so gracefully with green peas and make a most delicious dish. Fresh morels make their appearance with their sweet perfume and flavour; dear amiable, juicy little morels which are so easy of digestion. We receive millions of artichokes and early vegetables from the south, and we thank it heartily for our anticipated enjoyments, but we must not forget that the finest fruit and vegetables come from "Île de France." Welcome also to the fresh butter which, thanks, to the young grass, is now in perfection.
Provisions in season during May.
Vegetables are more abundant; besides which we have melons, French beans, cauliflowers, and cucumbers, early peas, broad beans, lettuce, and young turnips, forced strawberries, and cherries.
June.
Here we are at the last month of spring, and it is specially celebrated for its beautiful red fruits and flowers. No one can dine better than the bees do this month. Let us follow their good example and abandon to a certain extent our carnivorous tastes, and enjoy all the savoury and abundant productions which are in season. We now have fine young fowls to charm us, and their number is further augmented by invaluable turkey poults and gallant young cocks, which we must no more confound with the interesting capon, than we would compare a fine opera singer with one of the choir at the Sistine Chapel.
Provisions in season during June.
Under glass: egg-plants, cucumbers, and tomatoes.
We can no longer count on asparagus, but out of doors there are French beans, spinach, Morella cherries, raspberries, cherries, strawberries, currants, and gooseberries.
July.
During this month the poultry-yard is in its full glory. There are fattened turkey poults, pullets, and capons. We must not forget veal, which is at its prime. Our markets are filled with river and sea fish; but we must begin to examine our fish critically from head to tail. The hay having been cut, we are enabled to catch crayfish, the little red fish which goes backwards, and which naturalists say is not a fish, is not red, and does not go backwards. Now is the time to make use of the well-flavoured young rabbits which are in season, and with these resources our dinners can be charmingly varied, whatever any one may say to the contrary. An experienced dinner-eater is far too clever to grumble at imaginary deprivations during the month of July.
Provisions in season during July.
All vegetables are in season, and potatoes in abundance. Figs, apricots, peaches, early pears, and apples are now ripe.
August.
August was the Emperor Augustus' favourite month, and no one can have been a better judge of a good dinner than he was. This emperor had the whole world at his feet, and he could well set heat and cold at defiance. Rome was at this time not only the capital of the world, but also of gastronomy. Everything worth having was brought to Rome, without Augustus having to exclaim, as did Louis XIV., "I had almost to wait." Large cities become deserted in August on account of the great heat, and people either go to the country, to the sea-side, or to drink the waters. They go about the country and fields, and do not think much about eating. However, at the end of the month shooting begins, and gourmands are provided with young quail, leverets, and young wild boar. Other game is not worth much just yet.
Provisions in season during August.
The same as in July. Melons, figs, peaches, plums, pears, green almonds, green walnuts, and all kinds of vegetables.
September.
Partridge-shooting commences, and at the same time the vintages in the wine districts. Now is the season when you begin to eat with thought. All butcher's meat is good. Game will improve, but we get much which is very good. Thrushes have pecked sufficiently at the grapes to make them worth eating. Sea fish is abundant, and all fruits are in perfection. Truffles and oysters make their appearance very timidly. It is better not to be too familiar with them just yet, so as to enable your palate to get in order, and also to allow the sun to put out a few of its fires, after which you will enjoy them with the enthusiasm which they deserve. William the Conqueror took England for the sake of an oyster-bed, and Talleyrand governed the world by the aid of truffles. Young plover begin to appear, and Guignard says they are the most delicate-eating bird. Certainly they know the art of making them into delicious pies at Chartres.
Provisions in season during September.
September eggs are very good, though not to be compared to those laid in May. Artichokes are better now than at any other time of the year, and it is time to pick our nuts.
October.
It is for poets to make odes to spring, and for gourmands to make verses to autumn. Happy month of October, its only fault being that it is the last month of the gourmand's holiday. During October nature is still beautiful, and all food is good. It always brings back to me the happiest reminiscences. I can almost feel the sweet air of the woods blow against my face. What a jovial season! We are so gay, so strong, and have such an appetite. Thank God, I have always kept my lightheartedness, vigour, and appetite; but when I think of some of the companions of my youth, years gone by, oh! what phantoms they now are, with no digestion, dull eyes, trembling hands that can hardly hold either fork or glass; they may perhaps enjoy fortune and honours, but what wouldn't they give to be able to enjoy a good dinner as I do? When Brutus was dying of hunger after a defeat, he exclaimed, "Fortune is but a name."
Provisions in season during October.
Added to pears and apples we now have almonds, medlars, and chestnuts.
November.
Here we are in cold and foggy November, the gastronomical scene has changed; yesterday we were in the country, to-day we find ourselves in town. The actors are the same, only feeling much strengthened and determined to brave indigestion, which after all can only be called "Remorse of the stomach." We have one recruit in our culinary army, a very unpretentious one, but that does not prevent its assaulting our appetite: I mean the fresh herring with soft roe, and eaten with mustard sauce. There is a saying that many people die in November, so I advise my friends to have more than one invitation to dinner for the same day, so that if one host fails, they can always have recourse to another to console them.
Provisions in season during November.
We are no longer troubled about provisions, our duty is to eat them.
December.
The festive season has now arrived for those gourmands, mostly bachelors who, like Rabelais, always dine out, and show their gratitude by not returning the hospitality offered to them. The hour of execution has sounded, but what an amount of tact is required not to give offence. Who are we to please, husband, wife, father-in-law, or mother-in-law? Try now, you husbands, who keep your house with a firm hand, and arrange the invitations. I make a bet that the mother-in-law has her own way; all I warn the guest to do is not to remind the mother-in-law that he remembers her in the comet year of 1811, or that the tail of her pet dog does not curl, for it would be sad to end the year with an empty stomach.
Provisions in season the same as in November.