COKING
- CASTLE BULDN
EMMA PEWING.



ലലലല ലലലല ലലലല
GENERAL LIBRARY
OF
University of Michigan
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ലലലലലാലലല്
Presented by
Daughters of Dr. Danster
august
.1900
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ല
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295
にする
​1890











GOOKING AND CASTLE - BUILDING,
100999
BY
Mrs. EMMA (P. EWING.
COPYRIGHTED BY EMMA P. EWING.
1890.





•
PREFACE AND DEDICATION.
~2f me
et-1-8
Reclair
TO GRACE GREENWOOD :
MY DEAR FRIEND, — To you who so pearly fill my ideal of
a trne American woman, I would like to inscribe this little
volume; but as it is more especially written for younger
women than you and I, the proper thing, I presume, is to ask
you to permit me to dedicate it to your artlessly charming
daughter.
I know right well you will cheerfully grant the request.
But before doing so, I fancy you quizzically inquiring, and
myself gravely informing you, about the nature of the volume,
somewhat in this wise : -
“Is the book a novel ?"
“A little like a novel.”
“ Or, is it a cook-book ? "
" A good deal like a cook-book 9"
“ Or, a volume of sermons ” .
“Very like a volume of sermons."
“Ah, well! then it must be a good book."
“O yes! a remarkably good book.”
Therefore, in the hope that she will find pleasure in its
perusal,
“COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING”
•
Dedicated
TO ANNIE LIPPINCOTT.
No woman of her age, I am very confident, can read it with-
out profit. And no housewife, I flatter myself, can carefully
follow its directions and advice without doing something to
aid on the cause so dear to your and my heart, by having her
table supplied with well-prepared food; and thus helping to
secure for herself, her family, and her friends, that most
des irable of earthly attainments -- A PLEASANT HOME.





OONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
HOW IT HAPPENED.
In New York. - Plans and Projects Ventilated. — Cooks and
Cook-books Discussed.- Where shall we Spend the Summer!
- The Question Settled. — Off to Maplewood, ,
CHAPTER II.
HOW WE MADE BREAD.
Alice Makes Yeast. — The Way She Made it. — About
Yeast. - Setting the Ferment. - Preparing the Sponge.
Working the Dough. — Letting it Rise. - Miss Beecher on
Bread. — Making the Loaves. — Baking Bread. - French
Twist. - Care of Bread, . . . . . . . 16
CHAPTER III.
STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
Graham Bread. — Rolls. — Egg Rolls. — Bread without Po-
tato. - When to Set Ferment. — Soda Denounced.-- Cream
Biscuit. — Strawberry Shortcake. — Maryland Biscuit. —
Alice as Cook. - Her First Breakfast. – What She Pre-
parod, and How She Prepared it, . . . . . 31
CHAPTER IV.
FOOD AND FANCY.
Fried Chicken. - Graham Gems. - English Muffing. — Gra-
ham Cakes.- Mushes.— Directions for Cooking them.-- Oat-
meal.- Crushed and Cracked Wheat.— Hominy or Grits. —
Stewed Chicken. — Stewed Meats. — Alice's Adventure. —
Alico's Dream. - Gerald Douglas, . . . . . 49


OONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
At Breakfast. — Chat about Cakes, Griddles, and Greasers.
- Bread Cakes. - Waffles. — Flannel Cakes. — Muffins. –
Buckwheat Cakes. — Corn Bread. — Dodgers. – Muffins. –
Slappers. — Something about Ghosts, . . . . . 66
CHAPTER VI.
BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
'offee. - How to Roast Coffee. – How to Make Coffee. -
A Bachelor's Letter. - English Breakfast Tea. — Black and
Green Teas. – Mandariu Tea. — Ilow to Make Toast. - Fan-
ny's Letter. - Pease. — Asparagus. — Green Beans. - Dried
Beans. — Pork and Beans. — Stewed Corn. – Corn Oysters.-
About Potatoes, . . . . . . . . 83
CHAPTER VII.
AT DINNER.
. Dissertation on Soup. — About Roasting Meats. — Searing
Meats. — Dry Roasting. - How to Sear and Roast Meat. -
Boiled Meats and Fowls. — Salt Meats. - To Boil Ham.-
Beets, Onions, Cabbage, and other Vegetables. — Suitability
of Food. -- Things that Eat Well Together. - Rice Pudding.
- Butter. - Boiled Rice. — Steamed Rice. — A Visit to Mrs.
Douglas's Rooms. — Susannah's Story. — Family Portraits.
- Mysteries, . . . . . . . . 104
сняг
CHAPTER VIJI.
OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
hicken. — Beefsteak. – Lamb Chops. - Mutton Chops. -
Broiling without a Gridiron.- How to Broil.-Broiled Quail
- Canvas-back Ducks. — Terrapin.– Mrs. Rose's Omelet.-
Her Trials and Failures. — Her Final Success. — How the
Omelet was Made. — Chicken Salad. — Salad Dressing. -
Frizzled Beef. – Mrs. Douglas's Letter. – Emeline An-
noyed, . . . . . . . . . . . 123


CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE ORCHARD.
Moralizing. — The Prince of Fruits. — Cooked Apples. —
Sugar and Spice. — The Flavor of Fruits. – Canned Fruits.
- Fruit Mushes. — Jams and Jellies. – Apple Pie. - Cousin
Kate v. Parson Beecher. — Cambric Toa. — Linen Pie. —
Baked Apples. — Stewed Apples. - Tapioca Pudding. -
Fruit at Meals. — Sugaring Berries. – On the Veranda.
– Gerald's Musings,. . . . . . . . 240
CHAPTER X.
EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
Egg-Plant.- Fried Squash.- Fried Oysters.- Scalloped Oys-
ters. — Fish-Balls. — Hashes. — Scrapple. – A Stew. – Per-
sonal Matters. - Cousin Kate's School Project. — Boarding-
Houses. — Homes. — The Professor's Story. - Beds and
Blankets. – House-work. — Drudgery. -"A Shy” at Re-
formers. — The Reform Most Needed. — Proper Home-Train-
ing of Girls, . .
· · · · · . 165
CHAPTER XI.
LITTLE THINGS.
About Cake. — Bread Cake.- Buns. - Doughnuts. - Pickled
Cabbage.-- Tomato Sauce.- Cucumber Catsup.- Cucumber
Pickle. - Spiced Peaches. — Spiced Damsons. – On the Ver-
anda after Tea. — An Interchange of Thoughts. — Cousin
Kate on Little Things. — Good-by to Maplewood,. . 190


COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
CHAPTER I.
HOW IT HAPPENED.
My cousin Emeline, after a two years' sojourn.
in Europe with her only child, Alice, had returned,
and was loitering in New York, undecided as to
where they should spend the summer.
Abroad, Alice had devoted herself assiduously
to French, German, and music, while her mother
had employed much of her time in writing a
novel.
One day in early June, a fortnight after their
arrival in the American metropolis, Emeline,
looking up from the book she had been reading,
exclaimed, -
"O for a lodge in some vast wilderness !'
Another week of this horrible din and confusion
will be the death of me. Day and night it is one
unceasing uproar. Kate, where can we hide our-
selves for three months and enjoy uninterrupted
rest, while I revise that book of mine?”.
I answered her by asking, " Would you mind
going to Westfield ?”


HOW IT HAPPENED.
and have eaten of the labors of a great many
cooks. But the houses that deserved to be called
homes, wherein genuine comfort and cheerful hap-
piness dwelt peacefully together,- I could count
them all on my ten fingers. In searching for the
cause of this great lack, I cannot attribute it
entirely to the tyranny of man, or the servitude
of woman. I am forced to the conclusion that
women fail to appreciate the importance of the
Home. That in their just rebellion against lives
of drudgery and toil, they fail to see how much
of this drudgery is self-imposed, and what a grand
work each woman might do in her circumscribed
sphere if she could make the home attractive and
desirable above other places, to husband, sons,
and brothers. I have an idea that if the women
who are wives and mothers would bring all their
powers to bear in the right direction — making it
their first object to see that the home is comfort-
able and attractive,- a place where the husband
can rest, and the sons find pleasure,– that these
wives and mothers would constitute the most
effective temperance crusaders; that the labors
of the women who go forth to pray with and con-
vert the rumseller, would, in comparison with
their labors, count as nothing.”
" Kate, I protest against being forced to listen
to your lecture on moral reform. Come to the
point. What is your pet project ? ”


COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
"Why, this: you see, Cousin Emeline, no
home can be what it ought to be, unless there is
a good cook in the establishment. A great many
of the sins of the world are traceable to bad food.
A carnal stomach has often more to do with crime
than a carnal heart. A popular writer says, 'you
may make houses enchantingly beautiful, hang
them with pictures, have them clean, airy, and
convenient; but if the stomach is fed with sour
bread and burnt meats, it will raise such rebellion
that the eyes will see no beauty anywhere.' In-
deed, I cannot conceive of a man being a Christian
husband or father who is fed regularly upon half-
baked bread, burnt or raw beef, and vile tea and
coffee. · Comfort with most of us is essential to
happiness. And I have seen the peace of a whole
family destroyed for the day by having muddy
coffee for breakfast. Now, Emeline, I'm coming
to the point. For years this matter has been a
burden upon my mind, day and night. I have
been longing to reach the ears and hearts of my
countrywomen upon this subject. At last the
longing has taking shape and form, and I see now
in what way I can approach them. As so much
of health and happiness, as well as enjoyment, is
dependent upon the food we eat, and as no home
can deserve the name without a well-ordered table,
I have concluded to write a cook-book.”
"Write a cook-book! Well, why in the name


HOW IT HAPPENED.
13
of all that is sensible, didn't you say so? But I
can't for the life of me see how your writing a
cook-book will remedy the evils of which you
complain, or enable us to dispense with servants
at Westfield. We have a perfect library of cook-
books already, and of making them there appears
to be no end. It requires an ordinary lifetime,
almost, to even glance at the thousands and tens
of thousands of recipes our numberless cook-
books contain, many of them proved perfect, and
handed down from generation to generation, along
with the family china and silver. Don't do it,
Kate.”
" Cousin Emeline, you fail to comprehend my
· purpose. I'm not going to add another to the list
of abominations miscalled cook-books, in which it
is impossible to find a recipe whereby an unskilled
or inexperienced housewife can make a loaf of
bread equal to that made by our best bakers. In
this one, which I pick up at random, I find only
eleven recipes in any way touching bread,- not
one of them minute and careful in detail, -- while
I find in it sixty for cake, and fifty-eight for pies
and puddings. From glancing over our popular
cook-books, one would be apt to conclude the
leading prayer of their writers was, 'Give us this
day our daily pastry.' In my cook-book I will
deal with the essential articles of food. I will
dilate upon the charms of bread, meats, and vege-


14
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
tables, at their best; and omit those non-essential
and indigestible messes and mixtures, that have
been heretofore thrust so prominently forward.
Cook-book makers seem to take it for granted
that everybody knows how to make bread, broil a
steak, cook a potato, etc., etc. Yet these are the
very things that are almost universally spoiled,
and rendered unfit to eat, by the average house-
keeper. There are plenty of women — ten to one
I might say truthfully — who can make nice cake,
- but can't bake good bread, or broil a beefsteak
or mutton-chop properly. It is said: 'A fair
Charlotte-Russe is easier to gain than a good cup
of coffee ; and you shall find a sparkling jelly to
to your dessert where you sighed in vain for so.
simple a luxury as a well-cooked potato.' In this
retreat of ours, we will have undisturbed sway in
the kitchen as well as in the parlor, and I will do
the cooking in order to illustrate the perfection
of my recipes and methods."
" And a sorry time we will have, I fear, in eat- .
ing the results of your experiments," retorted
Emeline ; " but no matter; anything is preferable
to this horrid New York life. Let us call Alice,
and see if she consents to our plan.”
Alice not only consented, but was greatly de-
lighted at the prospect of this novel summer in
the country; and still more that she would have
an opportunity of penetrating the mysteries of


HOW IT HAPPENED.
15
the kitchen, or, as she expressed it, of "dabbling
in dough.”
So the question was speedily settled. And
armed and equipped with chintz wrappers, linen
aprons, and rubber gloves, we arrived in due sea-
son at Maplewood, where, in the grand old
kitchen, Alice and I were to be found, morning and
evening, with rare exceptions, all through that
delightful summer, learning our lessons in the
science of cookery.


HOW WE MADE BREAD.
17
ing hop-water slowly upon the paste, stirring con-
tinuously that it might grow thin by degrees, and
perfectly mix with the hop-infusion. She boiled
this thin starch for a few minutes, stirring it while
on the range, lest it should settle and burn on the
bottom of the pan. Then she returned it to the
bowl, adding a large spoonful of salt and the same
of white sugar. When this mixture had cooled
to blood heat - or say 980 Fahrenheit – she
added a gill of yeast procured from the baker.
Stirring all well together, she covered the bowl
closely, throwing over it several folds of blinket
to protect it from draughts of air, and left it to
ferment or rise. Five or six hours later, finding
it getting light, she gave it a good beating, which
caused it to settle; and this she repeated several
times during the day, until the yeast was "quiet”
enough to be poured into a glass jar, covered, and
set away in the cellar.
Each week during the summer this process of
making yeast should be repeated, always reserv-
ing a gill of the old yeast to start the new, and
always washing and scalding the glass jar with
care. If at any time your old yeast should be
unfit to start the new with, and you are unable to
procure any of a baker, yeast cakes will answer
the purpose.
It is less trouble to make yeast and keep it on
hand, than to send to the baker's for it when


18
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
required; besides, yeast made in this manner is
superior to that used by most bakers. In winter
it will keep two weeks. Glass is better than
stone for keeping yeast, being less porous, more
easily handled, and more readily cleansed.
At nine o'clock in the evening we set the fer-
ment for the next day's baking. Into a large
earthen bowl we put four medium-sized potatoes,
– pared, boiled, and mashed, the same as for the
table. The water in which they boiled, we
drained carefully away. Many cooks use this
potato-water to set the ferment; but " the potato,
nutritious and harmless as it appears, belongs to a
family suspected of very dangerous traits. It is
a family connection of the deadly nightshade, and
other ill-reputed gentry, and sometimes shows
strange proclivities to evil,-- now breaking out
uproariously, as in the noted potato-rot, and now
more covertly in various evil affections. For this
reason, scientific directors bid us beware of the
water in which potatoes are boiled -- into which it
appears the evil principle is drawn off; and they
caution us not to shred them into stews without
previously suffering the slices to lie for an hour or
so in salt and water.”
To the potato we added a pint of flour, and,
gradually, two quarts of boiling water, stirring
the mixture constantly meanwhile. When all the
water was in, the contents of the bowl resembled


HOW WE MADE BREAD.
19.
thin starch. When the temperature of the fer-
ment had cooled to blood-heat, we added a gill of
our new yeast, stirred it well, and covered it
closely, that it might retain its warmth unchilled
till morning.
Upon entering the kitchen next morning, I
found Alice already there.
"Have you looked at the ferment?” I asked.
"No, Cousin Kate, I dare not touch anything in
your absence, lest I do mischief; but, pray, let
me see it. Why, it looks like sea-foam. How
very lovely!”
"Yes," I replied, " and were you to taste it, you
would find it not unpleasant, but a little sweet and
biting to the tongue. And now, from this pan of
flour, which we first sift and warm, we will add to
the ferment a handful at a time, stirring and beat-
ing it well meanwhile, until it is thick as batter;
then covering, leave it to rise. When light again,
and fairly dancing with life (or is it the dance of
death?), give it more flour and a good beating.
This whipping seems to take all the life out of the
batter, but you will find that the dough quickly
recovers its old spirits, and is all the lighter for
the heavy strokes given it. You will observe,
Alice, that I put no salt in the bread, there being
enough in the yeast to prevent it from tasting fresh
or flat. No one, I think, can like to taste salt in
bread.”


20
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
" Cousin Kate, why do you set the ferment to
rise in an earthen bowl instead of a tin pan or
wooden tray ?"
"Tin does not protect the ferment from cold air
as does this thick earthenware; and wooden ves-
sels are clumsy to handle, and difficult to keep
clean and sweet. Bear in mind, Alice, that you
cannot have perfect success in bread-making, if
you allow the ferment or sponge to change tem-
perature, alternating from cold to heat: you must
not permit it to take a chill, and then force it into
a fever by means of hot-air baths. Such treat-
ment will utterly demoralize any bread-sponge.
Start the bread at blood-heat, then keep it well
covered ; and whenever you add flour, let it be of
a moderately warm temperature.
" When the sponge is too stiff to be stirred ai..
beaten in this manner, put your hand into it, and
work it very thoroughly, adding flour slowly until
the dough clings together and seems to have a
decided character of its own. The sides of the
bowl will then be clean of dough, and you can lift
the mass all together, and place it on the bread-
board, where you will knead it for half an hour
longer, adding flour only as is necessary to keep
the dough from sticking to the board or hands.
" When it works clean on the board, and seems
Jively and spirited, it is well moulded; but test
its temper in this way: give the dough a deep


HOW WE MADE BREAD.
poke with your fist, and if it takes the insult
meekly and settles down on the board, it is not
worked sufficiently; but if, on the contrary, it
seems to resent the assault, and springs back after
your retreating hand, it is all right.
"Instead of kneading a large mass of dough on
the moulding-board, it is better to divide it, work-
ing the several parts alternately. Not only
because it is easier to mould in small parcels, but
because fermentation during the interval of rest
softens and renders it lighter than if contin-
uously moulded.
"We will divide this dough into two parts, one
of which we will place in this earthen bowl,
which has been warmed and well greased, you
perceive, and, covering closely, set aside to make
into French twist after it has again risen. The
remaining half we will subdivide into four parts,
making each into a round mass; then by rolling it
back and forth under the hand, bring it into a form
resembling these bread-pans, which are four or five
inches wide, eight or ten long, and six deep; and
made, you observe, of sheet-iron, not tin. But
for the weight, I would prefer to have them of
cast-iron.
" Having warmed and greased the pans, put the
loaves in, and set them on the table close together,
covering them first with a towel, then with sev-
eral folds of woollen blanket or other cloth, reach-


22
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
Wakea.
ing to the table on all sides, thus excluding the
air from the pans. Bread covered in this way
rises evenly, and never has a dried, stiff surface
before it is baked.
"This bread will need to stand in the pans to
rise about an hour, perhaps longer, the exact time
required depending upon the quantity of flour
added at the last kneading, the temperature of the
bread when put in the pans, the state of the
atmosphere of the room, the size of the loaves,
and other circumstances. To decide when bread
is just light enough is a very nice point, and not
less important than difficult; for, if you put it to
bake a moment too soon, you fail to realize all
the good which your labor has entitled you to;
while, if you permit it to pass the point of perfect
lightness, you lose the best results of your toil.
"Here, Alice, read what Miss Beecher says
upon the subject of bread, in the 'American
Woman's Home.”
" The true housewife makes her bread the sov-
ereign of her kitchen - its behests must be at-
tended to in all critical points and moments, no
matter what else be postponed. She who attends
to her bread only when she has done this, and
arranged that, and performed the other, very
often finds that the forces of nature will not
wait for her. The snowy mass perfectly mixed,


HOW WE MADE BREAD.
kneaded with care and strength, rises in its beau-
tiful perfection till the moment comes for fixing
the air-cells by baking. A few moments now,
and the acetous fermentation will begin, and the
whole result be spoiled. Many bread-makers
pass in utter carelessness over this sacred and
mysterious boundary. Their oven has cake in
it, or they are skimming jelly, or attending to
some other of the so-called higher branches of
cookery, while the bread is quickly passing into
the acetous stage. At last, when they are ready
to attend to it, they find that it has been going its
own way; it is so sour that the pungent smell is
plainly perceptible. Now, the saleratus-bottle is
hauled down and a quantity of the dissolved alkali
is mixed with the paste, - an expedient sometimes
making itself too manifest by greenish streaks and
small acrid spots in the bread. As the result, we
have a beautiful article spoiled, — bread without
sweetness, if not absolutely sour.
"In the view of many, lightness is the only
property required in this article. The delicate,
refined sweetness, which exists in carefully
kneaded bread, baked just before it passes to
the extreme point of fermentation, is something
of which they have no conception; and thus
they will even regard this process of spoiling
the paste by acetous fermentation, and then rec-
tifying that acid by effervescence with an alkali,


24
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
as something positively meritorious. How else
can they relish baker's loaves, such as some pro-
duce, drugged with ammonia and other disagree-
able things; light, indeed, — so light that they
seem to have neither weight nor substance, but
with no more sweetness than so much cotton
wool?
" Some persons prepare bread for the oven by
simply mixing it in the mass, without kneading,
pouring it into pans, and suffering it to rise there.
The air-cells in bread thus prepared are coarse
and uneven; the bread is as inferior in delicacy
and nicety to that which is well kneaded, as a
raw servant to a perfectly educated and refined
lady. The process of kneading seems to impart
an evenness to the minute air-cells, a firmness of
texture, and a tenderness and pliability to the
whole substance, that can be gained in no other
way.
" The divine principle of beauty has its reign
over bread as well as over all other things; it has
its laws of æsthetics; and the bread which is so
prepared that it can be formed into separate
and well-proportioned loaves, each one carefully
worked and moulded, will develop the most
beautiful results.
"After being moulded, the loaves should stand
usually not over ten minutes, — just long enough
to allow the fermentation going on in them to


HOW WE MADE BREAD.
25
expand each little air-cell to the point at which it
stood before it was worked down, and then they
should be immediately put into the oven.
" Many a good thing, however, is spoiled in
the oven. One thing should be borne in mind
ás a principle: that the excellence of bread in all
its varieties — plain or sweetened - depends on
the perfection of its air-cells, whether produced
by yeast, egg, or effervescence; that one of the
objects of baking is to fix these air-cells; and
that the quicker this can be done through the
whole mass, the better will the result be. When
cake or bread is made heavy by baking too quickly,
it is because the immediate formation of the top
crust hinders the exhaling of the moisture in the
centre, and prevents the air-cells from cooking.
The weight, also, of the crust pressing down on
the doughy air-cells below, destroys them, - pro-
ducing that horror of good cooks, a heavy streak.
The problem in baking, then, is the quick appli-
cation of heat, rather below than above the loaf,
and its steady continuance till all the air-cells
are thoroughly dried into permanent consistency.
Every housewife must watch her own oven to
know how this can be best accomplished.”
"Cousin Kate, Miss Beecher says that after
being put in the pans, the bread should stand
not more than ten or fifteen minutes to rise, but
you say an hour,”


HOW WE MADE BREAD.
29
judge best from the length of time it has been in
the oven, and from its lightness, whether or not
bread is thoroughly baked. A loaf six inches
thick should bake an hour, and thinner loaves in
proportion; and a loaf of bread is much lighter
after than before it is well-baked.. Always bake
small, thin loaves, unless forced to economize
oven-room, as they are sweeter than larger ones.
For this reason braided bread, or French twist, is
a desirable form of loaf.
"For the twist, take a piece of dough the size
of a small loaf, and bring it into a long loaf shape,
pointing it at the ends by giving them an extra
pressure or rolling; then, with a rolling-pin, flat-
ten it like a pie-crust, rolling back and forth
lengthwise, as it must be much longer than it is
wide. Leave it an inch in thickness, and, with it
a sharp knife, cut it lengthwise into three strips of
equal width. Leave these strips inseparated at
the end farthest from you, and carefully plait or
braid them, pinching the ends well together.
Lift the twist with care, and place it in a pan
large enough to hold it without crushing or mar-
ring its form. If the dough is not allowed to get
cold and is properly covered, such twists will rise
in fifteen or twenty minutes; but remember, they
should be lighter than bread. If not baked too
brown, they will heat over nicely, by being placer
for a few minutes in a hot oven and allowed to


30
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
heat thoroughly, to the extent of taking on.
browner tinge. A twist reheated I think better
than one newly baked; but a twist dried for half
an hour in a warm oven is another thing. Many
cooks bake twists too lightly; all bread is more
digestible well baked.
"Upon removing bread from the oven, take it
out of the pans and tilt it against something upon
the table, leaving as much of the surface exposed
to the air as possible. Turn it after a few minutes,
lest it sweat and soften where it rests. Cover it
with nothing so long as it is too hot to be molested
by flies; and, as it cools, if necessary, throw over
it a very light bread-cloth. When quite cold, put
it into a bread-box, which should be of tin, or
wood lined with zinc,- in a square form, and with
a convenient cover. Do not keep bread in the
cellar or other damp place, nor in a closet where
there is the odor of preserves or pickles. Taken
care of in this way, bread will keep perfectly for
several days, and I think is better the second or
third day after baking than the day it is baked.
Never allow loaves of bread to be cut while warm;
for such use, bake in rolls or French twists, and
be very careful to have the bread-box emptied of
all stale pieces or crumbs, and perfectly clean and
dry when the new bread is put away. But this
will suffice for our lesson to-day.”


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
31
CHAPTER III.
STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
" TO-DAY, Alice, we will make rolls and Gra-
ham bread. Let us begin with Graham bread.
Having set the ferment last night, we now divide
it, pouring a portion into a separate bowl, into
which we stir Graham flour, adding more or less
sugar, according to taste, and a little salt. Add
flour, in small quantities at a time, and allow the
sponge to rise during the intervals. When too
stiff to stir readily, work well with the hand until
the dough seems very elastic and clinging. Add,
at this working, all the flour required. When
stiff enough, the dough will work free from the
sides of the bowl; but Graham bread should be
made less stiff than white bread. Leave it in the
bowl to rise ; and, when light, knead it upon the
board only enough to shape into loaves, and
then put it in pans to rise.
"It is well to gash all loaves of bread with a
sharp knife, after they are in the pan. This in-
cision should be an inch deep, and extend nearly
the length of the loaf. This prevents binding,
and allows the loaf, in rising, more freedom to


32
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
shape itself gracefully. Put into warm pans, well
covered, in a warm room, these Graham loaves
will rise in twenty or thirty minutes ; possibly fif-
teen. Graham bread does not require quite so
hot an oven as white bread, but should bake a
longer time.
"For rolls we have here a quart or three pints
of ferment, into which we stir flour, the same as
for bread. In every case be careful to have the
flour warm, so that the fermentation may not be
checked. Should you, at any time, find the fer-
ment or sponge has received a chill, and is slow
in its action, add the necessary warmth, not by
placing it over a hot range, or close to the stove,
where the heat will be extreme at some points,
but by putting the bowl containing the sponge in
a pan of warm water, and stirring it until the
whole mass of dough becomes of an even temper-
ature. When this roll-sponge is thick enough to
be worked by the hand, add to it an ounce of but-
ter, or lard, for each pint of ferment. If you desire
to have rolls light and spongy, work them at least
half an hour in the bowl, adding flour very grad-
ually. Then place the dough upon the moulding-
board and knead it well, adding flour only as is
necessary to prevent it from sticking to the board
and hands. The appearance of blisters upon the
dough is an indication that it is well worked.
Having washed and warmed the bowl, and greased


34
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
against it, will rebound as soon as the pressure is
withdrawn.
"When you wish to astonish your friends with
a marvel of delicate lightness in rolls, add to the
dough, when worked nearly enough to go on the
moulding-board, the whites of three or four eggs,
beaten to a stiff froth, and an additional half-ounce
of butter for each egg. The butter should be
worked in first; the eggs later, and a little at a
time, alternating with flour. If eaten the same
day they are baked, these rolls are more delicate,
being lighter, more spongy, and whiter, than
without the egg ; but they are also richer, and do
not keep so well. In making egg-rolls, work
them almost entirely in the bowl, for they must
remain too soft to be long worked on the board.
The bread we have already baked is the kind pre-
ferred by most people, being light, spongy, and
sweet. For eating when fresh, for making into
milk toast, bread puddings, or griddle-cakes, and
for crumbs with which to scallop or fry oysters,
perhaps it is better for the spongy quality ; but to
a lover of bread and butter, pure and simple,
bread made in the same manner, without potato,
is best. It is light, but firmer and more compact
in texture, and has a crisp sweetness excelling the
other. In dry toast it is far better, having none
of that husky emptiness which is a characteristic
of dry toast made from spongy bread. Good


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
35
bread may be made without potato, with very
little labor. Beating it for a moment whenever
flour is added, it need receive no other attention
until stiff enough to be worked with the hand,
when all the flour required can be worked in, dur-
ing fifteen minutes' kneading, and the bread be
placed immediately in the pans to rise. Made in
this manner, and given only this small amount of
time and labor, it will be found vastly supe-
rior to the bread at present disgracing a large pro-
portion of American tables.”
" Cousin Kate, why do you scald the flour with
which you set the ferment for bread?”
* After trying various methods, I obtained the
best results from so doing. Rising more slowly
at first, the ferment appears to be quicker and
more active, when its strength is most required to
lighten the mass of flour. The scalding also pre-
vents the ferment from souring; and it can, after
becoming light, stand for hours without acquiring
that yeasty smell and taste which spoil so much
bread. But I have found, Alice, that to add flour,
or remould just before the ferment or sponge at-
tains its lightest stage, is always best; for if it
passes that stage a moment, and 'falls' or 'settles,
something of sweetness and perfection is lost, that
no care or labor can restore.”
" Why do you use the wooden stick or spatula,
instead of a spoon, for beating the sponge?"


36
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
"For several reasons. One is, that it is lighter;
and the handle being round and smooth, does not
fret the hand like metal. Then, it cuts through
the dough more effectually than a spoon. My
grandmother's hasty-pudding stick was the model
after which this was made. It is well to have
several of these in a house. They should be made
of various sizes, of hickory, ash, or other hard
wood, and should be from a foot and a half to two
feet long. The blade should be from one and a
half to two and a half-inches in width, and four or
five in length, thickest in the middle, gradually
growing thin toward the edges, and square at the
bottom. This stick is preferable to a spoon for
beating cake or stirring mushes, and is quite indis- ·
pensable in the fruit season, to keep small fruits
stirred from the bottom of the preserving-kettle
while cooking."
" Cousin Kate, all the cook-books that I have
seen agree that milk is better than water for mak-
ing bread. Why do you not use it ?”
"For the reason that I differ in opinion from
those who think milk best. Milk that stands and
ferments, usually acquires an unpleasant smell and
taste. Sponge made with milk is more likely to
sour; and bread made with milk, at the same time
that it is less sweet in flavor, dries sooner, and
does not keep so well. Lastly, water is cheaper,
and within the reach of all. The ferment for next


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
day's baking can be set at any time during the
afternoon or evening, except in hot weather, when
it is better to start it about eight or nine o'clock
in the evening."
"You don't seem to have much faith in the
efficacy of soda in baking and cooking ?”
"Soda, as used in many households, is one of
the greatest abominations of the kitchen. It is a
malign intruder in all mixtures where an acid is
wanting; and even where an acid is present, it
should be used with great care and discretion.
The introduction of baking-powders is a good
thing; for in these the acid and the alkali are
more accurately proportioned than by careless
cooks. Whenever I speak of a measure of bak-
ing-powder, I mean to designate the amount which
the maker of the powder directs to be used in a
given quantity of flour. Those baking-powders
which are put up in separate parcels — the one
containing the alkali, the other the acid — are
perhaps preferable, but should only be used by
cooks who believe in careful and exact measure-
ments. In some cases, tin measures accompany
the powder; in others, a teaspoon is the measure
designated. To attain exactness in these measure-
ments, place a portion of the powder on the mould-
ing-board, and, with a knife, mash it smooth;
then, fill the measure heaping full, and, with the
knife, strike off all above the rim. Where exact-


38
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
ness is indispensable, make even (never heaping)
measures. Mix the quantity to be used with a
small portion of flour by repeated siftings, which
can be easily and quickly accomplished by the use
of two pieces of strong soft paper. Place the
sieve on one of these, and empty the flour from
the other into it; shake through, and repeat as
often as desirable. In all batter-cakes or soft
dough, where baking-powder is used, mix it in
this manner with a small quantity of flour, which
add near the close of the mixing process; but in
biscuit and stiff dough, sift the baking-powder
through all the flour used. Some cooks are
affected with soda mania. On general principles,
as it seems, they put soda in all breads and cakes.
If not required to sweeten or make light, they
confidently assert it will make tender. So the
greens are plagued, the string-beans tormented,
and the young pease cursed, by this evil spirit,
the exorcism of which would be a blessing to
thousands.
"For lunch to-day, Alice, you shall make sone
cream biscuit which will take your mamma cap-
tive, and charm her as completely as any material
substance can, if the biscuits you produce rival,
as I hope they may, the puffy things made by my
rosy-cheeked friend, Sally. Sally and I were girls
together, and much of my summer rest was found
at the old farm-house, where she and her sisters


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
39
grew up, blossomed, and faded, as the years went
by, in which I served my State as instructor of
its youth. Through all my life, in which, I am
sorry to say, hot biscuits have been a not infre-
quent event, I have never found any that quite
equalled Sally's. She, however, was the only
one in the family who invariably made them just
right. If her mother or one of her sisters under-
took the task, the cakes often came out of the
oven yellow, and smelling of soda because of an
overdose; or white and 'sad,' because too little
had been used; for the exact amount required
depended upon the acidity of the cream. Sally
had the knack of guessing just right. Taking the
bowl of sour cream in her hand, she would stir
and taste it with a critical air; and giving a wise
little nod, as if she had solved the riddle, proceed
to measure a teaspoon, half full, even full, or heap-
ing full, of soda, which she placed in a cup, and
poured on it a spoonful of boiling water. Let-
ting this stand, she made room in the middle of
the flour for the cream; and, with her fingers,
mixed the flour nearest the cream lightly in, add-
ing a pinch of salt. While it was still a soft
batter, she drained into it the soda, leaving any
sediment there might be in the cup. Then her
hands danced here and there through the dough,
mixing it rapidly until stiff enough to roll out on
the bread-board, cut into round cakes, and place


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
41
like these biscuits ; roll the dough quite thin, not
much thicker than pie-crust, and baking on pie-
pans, the size of the pan. When baked, with a
fork and your fingers separate the upper and
under crust of the cake, spread the inside with
butter, and laying one-half of the cake on a plate,
cover it thickly with berries, well sprinkled with
sugar. Then add another half cake and another
layer of berries, till the pie is thick enough, fiu-
ishing with fruit. If you desire to disguise, and,
in a measure, destroy the flavor of the berry,
serve strawberry Shortcake with sweet crear
poured over it. The cream also renders it more
indigestible. My opinion is, that any one, after
eating sweet, crisp loaf-bread, a day old, with
strawberries served like these, will never volun-
tarily run the risk of dyspepsia, for the sake of
hot biscuit or strawberry shortcake. •
" Belonging to the bread family, and a very
genuine, respectable member thereof, is our round,
chubby little travelling companion, known as
Maryland Biscuit. Although rarely met with
outside the State whose name it bears, it is a very
desirable acquaintance for travellers who provide
their own lunches; for picnic parties, and for
ladies who desire always to have the pantry well
stored with good things. The Maryland biscuit
occupies that happy medium state between a
cracker and an ordinary biscuit or roll, and is by


42
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
many preferred to either. To bring these cakes
out of the oven perfect specimens of their kind,
requires some labor, as it is necessary not only to
knead, but also to pound or beat them with a
heavy hammer or mallet. To four pints of flour
add three ounces of lard, a teaspoonful of salt,
and a pint of cold water. Rub the lard and salt
through the flour until perfectly mixed, before
adding the water. This proportion of water may
not be the exact quantity in all cases, as some
flour requires more, some less ; but the dough
must be very stiff, and rendered soft and pliable
by working and pounding. When light, and well
worked, the dough will ' blister,' and pulling off
a small piece quickly will cause a sharp, snapping
sound. When these signs appear, rest from the
labor of pounding; gather between your fingers a
little wad of the dough, pull it suddenly from the
main lump, and, moulding it into a round mass,
lay aside, face downward. In like manner fashion
enough to fill the bread-pan. Then, one by one,
pick up these round balls, and hold each for an
instant in the hollow of your left hand. While
nestled there so cozily, place your right thumb
squarely in its face, enlarging equally its surface,
and leaving a hollow in the centre; place in the
bread-pan, not allowing the biscuits to touch each
other. Prick them with a fork. Bake at once in
a hot oven until done, and of a light brown color,


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
43
If the cakes are 'sad,' or heavy inside, when cold,
they are not sufficiently baked, as they should be
light, and of a fine, even grain. When most per-
fect, these biscuits crack at the edges or sides, the
upper and under crust being forced apart, in order
to give a hint of the lightness and whiteness
within. When your oven is sufficiently hot,
twenty minutes is about the average time required
to bake them properly.
"No Maryland supper-table is in company order
without these modest, unpretending little fellows,
who are quite at home with fried oysters, and fit
company for cold turkey and broiled chicken."
One morning at breakfast, Alice asked, " When
may I be queen of the kitchen for a whole week,
and do all the cooking without any supervision,
Cousin Kate? I shall not feel really certain that
I know how to cook so long as you have to over-
see me. Besides, when are you to write that
lecture on The Proper Rearing and Training of
Children,' if you devote all your time to me and
the kitchen?”
After reflecting a moment, I replied, "Your
suggestion is a good one, Alice, and this plan
occurs to me : For one week I will do the cooking,
and you shall observe and help as heretofore; and,
during the week, you shall note the bill of fare at
each meal, and make such memoranda as you


44
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
think necessary. Then, the week following, you
may repeat or duplicate my week of cooking."
"I like that proposition,” said Alice: and Eme-
line added, "I hope you'll make a judicious selec-
tion, Kate, if we are to repeat the bill of fare,
good, bad, or indifferent.” .
The next day I began on the preparatory week,
and on the evening of the seventh day thereafter,
I abdicated in favor of Alice, who brought her
note-book, and, while finding the place, mur-
mured, "For breakfast one week ago to-morrow
morning, we had – oh, here it is - oatmeal
mush, picked-up codfish cooked with cream, baked
potatoes, French twist reheated, coffee. Mem.
- At seven o'clock, when I entered the kitchen,
Cousin Kate stood by the long table, knife in
hand, bending over a codfish. She stripped off
large pieces of the fish, then cut them across the
grain, into pieces an inch long. As these were
two or three inches wide, she picked them into
small bits, throwing out the bones, and letting the
fish fall into a pan of cold water. In a few
minutes she had thus prepared enough for break-
fast. Stirring it about in the water, she left it to
freshen, while she prepared the oatmeal mush.
Into a tin-lined stew-pan she put two pints of
water and half a teaspoonful of salt. When the
water boiled, she sprinkled in, slowly, half a pint
of oatmeal, stirring it with the mush-stick. The


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
45
water was boiling quite rapidly. In two minutes
the meal was all in, but she continued to stir,
letting it boil for two or three minutes longer,
when it appeared about the consistency of thick
gruel or thin batter. Then she placed the stew-
pan back on the range, where the heat was only
enough to keep it simmering. Removing the stick
and covering closely, she left it undisturbed till
breakfast. Next, she took six potatoes of medium
size, and, washing them very clean, placed them
in a pan ready for the oven. Then she ground
the coffee and put it to steep, not boil. She
allowed a tablespoonful of coffee for each cup;
and, placing it in the pot, added a cup of cold
water, and set it back on the range to steep. If
it chanced to boil, she added more cold water.
Just before serving breakfast, she added as much
boiling water as was needed, and allowed it to
boil for a minute ; then she lifted the pot to the
kitchen table, and with a spoon removed the
grounds which adhered to the inside of the pot,
near the top. Rinsing these off, she poured out
part of a cup, which she put inmediately back,
added a spoonful of cold water, and sent the coffee
to the breakfast-table. When mamma poured it,
three minutes later, it was clear as amber. Cousin
Kate selected a bowl-shaped iron kettle holding
about two quarts, and not a shallow pan or spider,
in which to cook the codfish. She stirred the fish


46
OOOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
about in the water, and drained it in a tin strainer.
then placed it in the kettle with half a pint of
fresh water, covered it close, and let it boil for
ten minutes, or until the water was all evaporated,
and the fish well cooked. At this stage she added
{ pint of thin cream; and when it boiled, two
spoonfuls of flour stirred to a smooth paste in a.
little cold milk, let it boil for a minute or two,
peppered it lightly, and served it. About ten
minutes before breakfast, she put the twist into
the oven ; and, from time to time, looked at it to
be sure it was not burning. When the potatoes
were baked, breakfast was served immediately.
Cousin Kate lifted the pan containing them to the
kitchen table; then, one by one, picked up the
potatoes in a cloth, which she held to protect her
hand, gave each a gentle squeeze, until opened its
mouth, whence issued a puff of hot air; then
placing them in a dish, sent them to the table.”
When Alice had finished reading these notes
from her memorandum book, I said, " Correct, to
the minutest particular.” She smilingly answered,
as she bade me good-night, " Then let not your
heart be troubled about breakfast, nor have a
thought of care or responsibility. I shall ring
the dressing-bell at half-past seven, and woe be-
tide you and mamma, if you spoil my first break-
fast by your tardiness.”
Cousin Emeline and I were on time next morn-


STILL DABBLING IN DOUGH.
ing, and presented our queen of the kitchen with
a bouquet of freshly-gathered flowers, in the
arrangement of which we had spent some anxious
moments. As I served the codfish (white, creamy,
and tempting), I said, "Now this fills the spoon in
a plump and satisfactory manner. I am very
fond of codfish when properly cooked ; and I find
it terribly trying, sometimes, to have so appetiz-
ing a dish fraudulently represented by bits of fish
half-cooked, and salt as brine, straying forlornly
about in a sloppy gravy. But this is just right;
neither too thick nor too thin. In this artistic
combination, it is difficult to decide where the fish
ends, and where the gravy begins.”.
Here Emeline interrupted my rhapsody over
the fish, by asking, "Where is the boiled milk
for Kate's coffee, Alice ?”
There ! I've forgotten the milk. But how did it
happen that it was not down in my memoranda ?”
"For the reason, I dare say, that boiling milk
in a milk-boiler requires very little attention.
You fill the inner boiler with milk and the outer
one with water, and set it back on the range,
where it simmers and sings to itself, until needed ;
and I suppose you neglected to make note of so
trifling a matter.”
"I am very sorry, indeed, Cousin Kate ; for to
weaken your coffee with water will spoil it."
" Not at all, when I have cream like this. But


COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
isn't it strange, Emeline, that so indispensable a
thing as a milk-boiler should be so rarely found
in the kitchen ? — and that the mistress of the
house should go on, year after year, boiling milk
in all sorts of pots and pans, - often scorching it
so that it is unfit for use, wasting the milk, and
spoiling her temper, all for the want of a milk-
boiler which costs a dollar?”
"But supposing, Kate, she hasn't got the dollar,
and if she asks her husband for it, he answers
with contempt, 'Milk-boiler, indeed! My mother
was one of the best cooks in the world, and she
never heard of a milk-boiler!' What would you
do in such a crisis, Kate ? " " I don't know; but
I have serious thoughts now, of writing a lecture,
as soon as the one bout children is finished,
entitled, 'The Abuse of Power, or the Cause and
Cure of Domestic Infelicity.' Here Alice laughed
outright, saying, "Excuse me, Cousin, but it
seems so funny that you who never had husband
or child, should write upon these subjects.”
" For that very reason, Alice, may I not be an
impartial and unprejudiced observer? Commend
me to an old maid or an old bachelor for true
wisdom on these subjects."
Thus, in idle talk we whiled away an hour over
Alice's first breakfast, which Emeline and I pro-
nounced a success, notwithstanding the forgotten
milk.


FOOD AND FANCY.
CHAPTER IV.
FOOD AND FANCY.
EMELINE passed her plate for a second piece of
chicken, remarking, as she did so, " These chick-
ens that you and Alice fry must be a new kind,
for so far as I can discover, they have neither
backs, necks, legs, nor wings. Truly a valuable
breed this must be, which runs entirely to breast
and second joints; the frying kind, I suppose.
But seriously, Kate, what do you do with the
remainder of these fowls, and how do you cut
such plump, compact little pieces, each one of
which is a delicious surprise on a near acquaint-
ance ?”
I was thinking about another matter, and
replied, " Cousin Emeline, in this cook-book
of mine, I mean to devote one whole chapter
to the consideration of suitability. I have a
friend, the charming Mrs. Rose; you used tu
know her; a woman of fine native talent, rare
culture, easy, affable manner, and great personal
beauty. But her one charm, which with me out-
shines all others, is tact. She has tact more per-
fectly developed than any one I ever knew,


FOOD AND FANCY.
are much better stewed, From the breast we get
three nice frying pieces, so nearly alike that you
can scarcely tell them apart. Having decided
where to cut it, instead of sawing and haggling
with a dull knife, and in the struggle mutilating
the pieces so that they remind you of 'the ragged
edge of despair,' Cousin Kate puts the breast of the
chicken on the meat-board, and placing the knife
just where she wishes to cut, strikes it a blow that
sends the blade through the chicken at one clean
stroke. Having washed the pieces and dried them
on a soft towel, while the lard, of which there
should be a liberal supply, is heating, we rub each
piece of chicken lightly, with salt and pepper,
which has been mixed together in suitable propor-
tions, and just before dropping into the boiling
lard, dust it with flour. To ascertain if the lard
is hot enough, slip into it a slice of raw potato,
and when the potato is brown, the lard is suffi-
ciently heated. Drop into the boiling lard one
piece of chicken at a time, and let the bubbling
and tumult, incident to its reception, somewhat
subside before adding another. When the pieces
are of a rich brown color, they will be found
well-cooked, and may be placed on a tin or wire
strainer in a warm oven, until ready to serve.
Chicken fried in this manner is much less greasy
than when cooked in a small quantity of lard.
Nearly all kinds of fresh fish are best fried in the


52
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
same way. To parboil a chicken before frying,
Cousin Kate says, is barbarous treatment, not of
the chicken but of the people who eat it after it
has been robbed of its best juices.”
"Now, Alice, tell me how you make these
Graham'gems,' for I really think they deserve
the name.”
" To a pint each of cold, sweet milk and pure
water, add a teaspoonful of sugar, a salt-spoonful
of salt, and three pints of Graham flour. Sprinkle
in the flour slowly, stirring the mixture rapidly,
and when all is added beat the dough briskly for
a minute or two before an open window or door;
for Cousin Kate says, pure air is very essential to
the life of bread, especially bread which is made
light by beating. Bake the gems in iron gem-
pans or puff-pans, half filling the cups which must
be well heated and greased. Bake in a quick
oven, the greatest heat being applied to the bot-
tom when first put in the oven.
"Fine flour gems, or English muffins, are made
in the same manner as Graham, omitting the sugar,
and adding a pint more of flour. Gems are good
made with water instead of milk and water.
"Very excellent Graham cakes are made by
putting a teaspoonful of sugar and a salt-spoonful
of salt into a quart of Graham flour, and pouring
upon it boiling water, stirring it meanwhile until
all is wet and soft enough to be worked into a


FOOD AND FANOY.
mass resembling a large roll, or small loaf of
bread. Work it as little as possible, and when
brought into this shape, cut it with a sharp knife,
dipped in flour, into slices half an inch thick.
Place these in a bread-pan and bake in a hot oven
for half an hour, or until brown. There, Cousin
Kate, haven't I said my lesson well?”.
- "Perfectly. And having induced you, Alice, to
make and taste these kinds of Graham bread, I am
content, well knowing that you will push your
investigations, and find by experiment that the
varieties of delicious bread which can be made of
Graham flour and water are almost numberless."
After a moment's pause Emeline renewed the
conversation by saying, "Kate, I hope you will
devote some space in your book to mushes; for,
although not a lover of them myself, I discover a
great difference in the appearance of oatmeal pre-
pared by your method, and that usually served.
And I notice that Alice eats your oatmeal with a
relish, whereas heretofore she has seemed to eat
all kinds of mushes from a sense of duty because
they were recommended by her physician.”
" What a close observer you are, mamma !” laugh-
ingly rejoined Alice. "But I own to liking Cousin
Kate's hygienic mushes rather better than those
which taste so decidedly of water. Hominy grits,
as often served, in a half-raw state, taste as I
imagine chicken-feed does. Crushed wheat when


FOOD AND FANOY.
55
stantly. I continue the boiling and stirring, after
the meal is all in, until the mush thickens enough
to jump up and hop about in a lively manner.
Then I remove the stick, cover the vessel closely,
and set it where it will only simmer. An hour of
this slow boiling or simmering renders oatmeal
and crushed wheat mushes far superior to those
made hastily by rapid boiling. Not only is the
grain and texture different; but flavors, delicious
and not discovered in mushes made rapidly, seem
to be elicited from the grain by this quiet undis-
turbed simmering - especially is this the case
with crushed wheat. And by the way, I think it
is a mistaken impression that crushed wheat should
only be eaten hot. To my taste, it is far more
delicious cold, or nearly so.
"Many cooks complain of fine hominy or grits
being troublesome to cook, because of its tendency
to stick to the kettle, unless constantly stirred.
But I find that greasing the kettle with lard or
butter before putting the water in, seems to
obviate the difficulty materially. Fine hominy
requires five measures of water to one measure of
hominy. It should be put into cold water, and
allowed to swell for half an hour, before the water
boils. While swelling it should be stirred every
few minutes. As soon as it begins to boil, place
it where it will boil rapidly for ten or fifteen
minutes, or until it becomes the proper consist-


ency, which should be the same as that of other
mushes, when it can be set back, covered closely,
and allowed to simmer for an hour. All kinds of
mushes should be salted very slightly, and I think
it better to put the salt in the water before stirring
in the grain or meal. A majority of cooks spoil
mushes by over-salting them.”
"It must be to get rid of their briny taste that
people who eat mushes generally destroy all their
flavor by adding immense quantities of sugar or
syrup,” observed Emeline. "The idea never
struck me before.” .
At breakfast next morning the stewed chicken
was a failure, at which Alice was much mortified.
She said, deprecatingly:
" Cousin Kate, it is not at all like yours, yet I
was very careful to read up my notes, which said:
'Two chickens, minus the frying pieces, are equal
to one whole chicken. To stew them, add one-
half pint water, cover closely, and boil gently
or simmer smartly, imtil very tender. Then drain
from them the water, add a piece of butter, or the
oil from the water you have drained out, let them
brown nicely, turning the pieces when necessary.'
That is what is the matter; I didn't brown the
chicken. Who would suppose so small a thing
would make so vast a difference?”
"This browning, Alice, changes the whole char-
acter of the dish, and makes rich and appetizing
what is otherwise weak and vapid.”


FOOD AND FANCY.
57
"Go on, Alice,” said her mother; "give me the
rest of the recipe.”
"When browned, lift the chicken, and pour
into the stew-pan the water previously drained
out, having removed any surplus oil. When it
boils, thicken with flour, stirred to a smooth
paste in a little cold milk, or sweet cream.
Make it thick enough to deserve the name of
gravy, season with salt and pepper, and return
the chicken to it, letting it remain in the stew-
pan long enough to become thoroughly saturated.
Dish chicken and gravy together.”
"Kate,” remarked Emeline, "I have been preju-
diced all my life against stewed chicken, because
the gravy was so inefficient, -- such a wretchedly
demoralized mixture, tasting a little of chicken
and very much of water and raw flour. But stewed
chicken, a lu Cousin Kate, has my hearty ap-
proval. In England we sometimes found stewed
chicken that was very nice. It was as this would
be if you left out the cream and added some
pickled mushrooms. Mushrooms give a deli-
cious flavor to the dish.”.
" Beef, veal, and lamb, are all delicious when
stewed in the same manner,” I said to Alice.
Then Emeline continued :
"Kate, I wonder why it is that women abhor
the kitchen, and so detest pottering among pots
and pans? You open this subject to me in a new


58
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
light, and I lose sight of the drudgery and un-
pleasant work in my interest about results, and
my inquiries after the cause. When we consider, .
there is nothing of greater importance than this
question, What shall we eat, and how shall it be
cooked ? For what order of men and women we
are, depends very much upon the food we eat.
The world seems divided mainly into those who
live to eat, and those who regard eating a trouble-
some and expensive necessity, but a nuisance.
There are very few who eat to live in the truest
sense.”
"The trouble, Emeline, is, that people don't
think; they go stumbling and groping through
life because they haven't found out that their
brains are for use. They never consider or
think about these things. If mothers realized
that the food their children eat has a positive
quality; that it actually contains the principle
of life or death, health or disease, they could
not be so indifferent. Did they realize the
vital importance of this matter, they would no
sooner trust to a slovenly, unskilled cook the
preparation of their children's food, than they
would the washing of their expensive laces. Do
they care more for their Honitons and Valen-
ciennes than for their Toms and Marys? I think
not. But one washing of a fine lace by a care-
less Bridget, reduces it to useless rags, whereas


FOOD AND FANCY.
59
these living and breathing jewels are destroyed
more slowly, and the mother does not see the
wear and tear of bad food so palpably.”
One evening Emeline and I were sitting on the
western veranda watching the sunset, when Alice
ran lightly up the steps. Her hat was in her
hand, and her beautiful hair, unconfined by comb
or plait, floated at will in wavy splendor. Her
cheeks were glowing and her eyes sparkling as
she spoke excitedly,
" Oh, mamma, I've had an adventure this even-
ing. The air was exhilarating, the birds sang so
gayly, and all nature seemed so blithe and happy,
that I, too, took wing, and flew, rather than
walked, this way and that, unheeding, in truth
not caring, where the lovely crooked ways led
me; until suddenly I came upon a small cottage
by the roadside. It was nestled just under the
hill, and was a very bird's-nest for coziness. I
came upon it from the rear, through a garden all
aglow with red roses and carnation-pinks, and had
almost walked into the house before I realized
what I was doing. The door stood open, and
jooking out at me amazed, as well they might be,
were a pair of large brown eyes. So earnest and
beseeching was their gaze that I stood spell-bound,
like one dazed or in a dream. The owner of these
marvellous eyes was a young girl who seemed an


60
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
invalid, as she reclined on a lounge beside which
the small supper-table was placed. Another lady
sat at the table with her back toward me. A look
or low-spoken word from the sick girl directed
this lady's attention to me, and she came out and
invited me in to rest. I didn't care to rest, but I
did care to learn something of this brown-eyed
beauty who seemed sick and sad. But no, I
think I am wrong there; her eyes only had a
wistful look, as if asking, pleading for some-
thing they dared not hope to gain; but her
voice was cheerful and her laugh free and joy-
ous. Yet she suffers a great deal, and has been
for years confined to her lounge by some affection
of the spine. Mamma, I think you made a mis-
take in writing your novel before I discovered
this lovely heroine."
Emeline responded -
"By the way, Kate, did I tell you of 'My lord'
and his mother whom we met last summer in
Switzerland ? We talked with them upon several
occasions, yet did not learn their name or the
land of their nativity. I thought them Ameri-
cans from their manners and speech, but Alice
insisted that they were English. She imagined
him to be an English lord, 'the last of his race,'
and that, she thought, accounted for their deep
mourning and great dejection.”
"No," I answered, while a vague suspicion


FOOD AND FANOY.
crossed my mind, "you have never spoken of
them to me, but I am interested. Describe them
more fully. What were they like in personal
appearance ?”
" Very much like each other, both having the
same dark, deep eyes — eyes that remind you of
bottomless wells of pure water, with shadows
lingering about them hinting of sunshine. Ile
was twenty-five or thirty years of age, and she
old enough to be his mother. His hair was dark,
and rippled or waved back from his forehead,
while hers was so white that it reminded one of
a fleecy cloud floating about her face.”
" Was she slightly lame ?” I asked.
"Yes,” answered Emeline ; " how came you to
guess that grace belonged to her?”
"Perhaps my question was the offspring of your
remembrance," I answered, evasively. "And Alice
thought him a hero, did she? And in her visions
of romance she has no doubt visited his ancestral
home, his lordly domain ? How is it, my dear,
do you dream of him still ?”
A rosy flush swept over her fair face as she
answered:
"Indeed, Cousin Kate, I never dreamed of him
but once in my life, and that was the first night |
slept in this house. You remember it was after
dark when we arrived, and to me it did seem a
little weird and dismal for three lone women to


62
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
take possession of a roomy old mansion like this,
and although I wouldn't own it then, I was nerv-
ous and fidgety, starting at every sound all the
evening. That I should dream strange dreams
that night was a matter of course.”
" But I never heard you mention this fact be-
fore, Alice,” said her mother. "Pray tell us this
strange dream.”
"I would rather not,” said Alice, blushing more
deeply, " lest you think me a silly girl, and vain
as foolish.”
By this time Alice had really aroused our curi-
osity, and Cousin Emeline and I both protested
that dreams were only dreams, and that we should
not think of attaching any importance whatever to
hers. Finally, we induced her to tell us her
dream, in which she said she rehearsed the scene
of our arrival at Maplewood, with this variation :
she had lost sight of her mother and me, and
entered the wide, gloomy hall alone. As she
stepped timidly forward, she heard the great door
close with a clang behind her, shutting her, like a
prisoner, within. A wild terror seized her, and
she was about to cry out for help, when a voice of
exceeding sweetness said gently, " Welcome home,
my darling." "I knew the voice,” said Alice,
and looking up, beheld 'My lord' descending
the hall stair. But the curious part of the dream
was that he bore in his arms a beautiful child,
laughing and crowing with delight."


COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
says that was the reason of their going, and that
his mother is devoted to him, and would go with
him to the ends of the earth, if he desired.”
"Very likely," I replied ; " most mothers would
do the same.”
"But why, Cousin Kate, did you never tell me
of this only son of your old friend?”
"Why, bless me, child, when and why, pray,
should I have told you the history of this particu-
lar young man? Have you not been for years
abroad, and before that, close shut within the walls
of the 'Sacred Ileart, conning your lessons ever
since you were a child ? Vever, until now, Alice,
did I realize what a fearful responsibility rests
upon a maiden lady whose old friend and school-
mate happens to have a terrible only son. Ah,
woe is me!”
"Now Cousin Kate, please don't laugh at me,
but shut up here with only your cook-book and
mamma's novel to think about, is it strange that I
like to hear Jessie tell of these people? Indeed,
I think it would be very ungrateful not to be
interested in them, since we've taken possession of
their beautiful home and all their lovely things,
just as if they belonged to us. Jessie says that
the family portraits are in the drawing-room, and
that the suite of rooms in the north wing belonged
to his wife, and were fitted up according to her
taste when she came here a bride ; and that they


FOOD AND FANCY.
65
are kept just as she left them. Would you mind
asking Susannah to show them to us some time,
when she opens to air and dust them; or do you
think she would object?”
"Oh, no! Susannah will be only too glad to
show you all her treasures, and I will ask her
some day. But we must give some attention to
the realities of the culinary department before we
wander into the fields of romance."


66
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
CHAPTER V.
GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
" KATE, I wonder if we shall be permitted to go
on in this quiet, restful way all summer? I never
enjoyed anything so much; but am all the while
haunted by the fear that some prowling interloper
will discover our retreat. Do you not think Alice
wanders about too unguardedly, and is making
too many acquaintances ?”
I had barely time to respond "Nonsense, Eme-
line,” when the little silver bell tinkled a summons
to breakfast. Leaving the roses ungathered, we
went in, to find a vase of them already upon the
breakfast-table, mingling their sweet odors with
those of more substantial things.
When Alice, with a little air of pride, passed
the cakes to me--such perfectly formed, dainty-
looking things—the sight of them somehow called
from their graves a spectral army of ghostly cakes,
the cakes of other days, and of less careful cooks
than our charming Alice. Haunted by their mem-
ory, I said to Emeline, " What an abomination
the griddle is in most houses, filling them with
stilling atmospheres and unsavory odors. And


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
67
yet it is easy to avoid both smoke and smell.
Cakes may be baked in the kitchen, and no one
up-stairs be wiser or sadder therefor, if the cook
knows how to tend the griddle. But if she floods
it with grease, which is allowed to burn before
the cakes are placed upon it, not only is the house
filled with smoke, but the cakes are blackened,
and to a great extent spoiled, coming to the table
with lacerated edges, bruised and torn, in their
fierce conflict with fat and fire. Many cooks seem
to take a special delight in causing the smoke of
their torment, the griddle, to ascend unceasingly,
and to this end they deluge it with grease, which,
by the time it is filled with cakes, has been
crowded close to the edges, where it hisses and
bubbles, sputtering angrily all through the baking.
Here and there on the griddle are drops of batter,
impromptu little cakes undesigned by the cook,
to which she pays no heed, unless, when lifting
their more important kindred, she gives them an
impatient push into the gutter of grease at the
edge of the griddle, where they fry und buru
uncared for. Sometimes it happens that these
vagrants, black and dismal as they appear, are
caught up accidentally and mixed with the cakes
sent to the table. But oftener they are pushed
off the griddle upon the range, where their illegit-
imate lives end in smoke.”
"But, Kate, how is this nuisance to be pre-
vented ?”


68
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING
"By using a suitable greaser in a proper man-
ner. A good greaser may be made of pure lard
placed just where it is required, by means of a linen
swab, fastened to the end of a stick fashioned for
the purpose; but the best greaser is a piece of fat
pork, two inches square and an inch thick, with
the rind covering one of its broadest surfaces.
Slip this piece of pork on a fork in such a manner
as to bring the tines of the fork close to the rind,
leaving the greaser below. With this rub the
griddle where the cakes are to be placed, wiping
it well with a dry cloth after each baking. A
griddle so treated will annoy no one, not even the
cook, with smoke. Griddles and bread-pans
should be used for nothing but the purpose for
which they are specially designed, and should
very rarely be washed with soap. If kept clean,
they need little washing at any time, as a brisk
rubbing with a dry cloth when they are warm is
all-sufficient, and keeps them in more perfect con-
dition than frequent washing.”
" Using soapstone, and other griddles which
require no grease, is the most sensible way of
abating the griddle nuisance, I think," said Eme-
line.
"No doubt you are right," I replied. "Still,
there are people who will cling to the old ways,
notwithstanding the new have been proven to be
best."


70
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
promptu speeches for your cook-book? My opin-
ion is that some of the best thoughts and choicest
sayings of writers never get into their books.
They come and go, with the passing moment of
inspiration, known only to the fortunate few who
happen to be at table, or in the drawing-room.
But are you aware, that at the beginning of break-
fast I asked you what kind of cakes these are that
we are eating ?”
." Is it possible you don't know ?”
" All things are possible, it seems, when you and
Alice play your witcheries in the kitchen ; but,
although I'm not sure, I think they are rice-cakes.
Rice-cakes are my favorite cakes, and these are
certainly very nice.”
Here Alice's musical laugh rippled into the
conversation with,
"Ricc-cakes, indeed, mamma; you ought to
have seen the stale old bread that went to make
up these little brown beauties.”
Emeline answered with indignation, not unmixed
with disgust, -
" Bread-cakes, Alice, are my particular detesta-
tion,-- soft, sticky, and disagreeable.”
"Oh fie, mamma ! how shocking! But I hasten
to heap coals of fire on your head, by giving you
the exact recipe for these delicate, delicious
cakes : Pour over a pint of bread-crumbs, the
same measure of boiling milk. If the milk has


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
71
been skimmed, a small piece of butter must be
added. Cover closely, and let stand over night.
In the morning mash to a smooth paste, and beat
thoroughly with it the yolks of two eggs. Then
gradually add half a pint of cold milk, beating
meanwhile, and half a pint of flour with which a
measure of baking-powder has been sifted. Lastly,
add the whites of the eggs, beaten to a stiff froth.
These cakes require longer baking than batter-
cakes, and should be baked of a small size, as they
are tender and easily torn, and, when served,
should be spread over the plate, and not piled one
upon the other.”
" Rice-cakes, Alice, may be made in the same
manner as bread-cakes, substituting well-boiled
rice for bread-crumbs.”
" And how are waffles made, Cousin Kate ?"
asked Alice.
This is an excellent recipe for a simple raised
waffle: One quart of milk, one ounce of butter,
three pints of flour, and half a gill of yeast. Let
rise over night. In making waffles, or batter-
cakes that rise over night, I think it best to heat
the milk to boiling point, adding to it, while hot,
the butter or lard to be used. When cool enough
to not scald the flour, add that; then the eggs,
well beaten; and lastly the yeast. Give all a
thorough beating. As soon in the morning as con-
venient, give the batter a good beating. This


72
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
will add to the lightness and excellence of the
cakes.
"The proportion of three pints of flour to a
quart of milk, which you see is a measure and a
half of flour to a measure of milk, I find to be the
average proportions required in all kinds of batter-
cakes; but the exact quantity of flour must be
determined by the number of eggs and the amount
of butter used. Where many eggs are used, less
flour is needed, unless a great quantity of butter
or lard, also, is used.
"Now, I will give you two more recipes for
waffles, both excellent, which illustrate my mean-
ing: One quart of milk, three pints of flour, four
ounces of lard, four ounces of butter, six eggs,
half a gill of yeast. In this recipe I should make
no deduction of flour on account of the eggs used,
because of the quantity of butter and lard. But
in this : One quart of milk, three pints of flour,
four eggs, and four ounces of butter, I should
take light measure of flour. Flour should always
be sifted before it is measured, and the measure
should not be heaped. These last waffles are very
nice, and are made in this manner: Add the flour
to the cold milk, and beat thoroughly. Melt the
butter, and add by degrees. Separate the eggs,
adding one yolk at a time, and beating it thor-
oughly into the batter, before adding another.
Lastly, add the whites, beaten to a stiff froth.


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
73
Bake immediately. If well beaten, these are good
either as waffles or griddle-cakes. This recipe is
also very nice when made over night, and raised
with a gill of yeast. In that case, add butter and
eggs in the morning. And you can also vary, by
sometimes using baking powder. As a general
rule, in making all kinds of batter-cakes, beat the
yolks of the eggs with the batter, and the whites
separately, adding them last.
"Here is a flannel-cake that is simple, but very
nice. Take equal portions of fine corn meal and
wheat-flour. To a quart of warm water add three
pints of meal and flour mixed, a pinch of salt, and
half a gill of yeast. Let rise over night..
"For muffins, take a quart of milk, two quarts
of flour, and a measure of baking-powder. Beat
all thoroughly together, and bake in muffin-rings,
or puff-pans, in a quick oven.
" The varieties of waffles, griddle-cakes, muf-
fins, etc., are very numerous. But any one know-
ing how to make a few, can, without a cook-book,
find out, by a little reflection, how to make num-
berless others.”
" But Kate,” said Emeline, "I wish to know
how those queenly buckwheat cakes are made.
Most housekeepers have difficulty with their
'buckwheats. They are either too thick or too
thin; and when not actually sour, have a strong,
rank taste. I have never found in any cook-book


COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
the proportions of flour and water to be used in
making buckwheat cakes. This important item
is left to the judgment or discretion of the cook.
Do you know the exact proportions ?”
"My favorite buckwheat cakes are made in this
manner: Make two quarts of gruel, by adding
to two quarts of boiling water half a pint of corn
meal, wet with a little cold water; boil well.
Then cool to lukewarmness and add half a pint of
wheat flour, three pints of buckwheat flour, one
gill of yeast, and salt to taste. Set in a mod-
erately warm place until perfectly light.
" Buckwheat cakes should be set to rise at noon,
for the next morning, and by eight or nine
o'clock they will be light, when they should be
well beaten and set in a cool place through the
night.
" Just before baking, add a little soda if needed,
and thin by adding a little warm water if neces-
sary.”
"I observe,” said Alice, " that in these buck-
wheat cakes which have no eggs, you use only
a measure of flour to a measure of water, while
in wheat flour cakes, you use a measure and
a half of flour. Why is that?”
" The nature of the grain is different; buckwheat
swells more than wheat; but it is always difficult
to get the exact proportions required by measure-
ment; for different grades of flour require differ-


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
DDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
75
ent proportions of water for the same thickness
of batter; and I find that in all batter cakes and
muffins raised with yeast it is better to stir them
a little too thick than too thin; for just before
baking they can be made thinner without injuring
their quality ; whereas, if you thicken by adding
more flour, it destroys somewhat of their light-
ness.”
"I think, Kate,” observed Emeline, " there is
one serious objection to your method of making
buckwheat cakes. The average cook won't take
the trouble to make gruel for her buckwheat
cakes.”
"I know," I replied, " that women hate to be
painstaking about these things; and I have a friend,
an admirable housekeeper, who insists that "her
buckwheat cakes are just as good as mine ; and her
method is much simpler. She sets her cakes to
rise the first thing after breakfast, using only cold
water, buckwheat flour, yeast, and a little salt.
"She sets them to rise on a table in the kitchen,
or some moderately warm room, and next morn-
ing thins them with a little warm milk or water,
adding a little soda if necessary. After first
starting her cakes, she never adds fresh yeast,
but uses the batter left; to which she adds flour
and water enough for the next morning. In
my cook-book, Emeline,” I went on to say, "I
mean to make very emphatic this idea : that


76
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
however cooks may make buckwheat cakes, they
must be careful to give them abundant time to
thoroughly ferment and rise; for I think a great
many buckwheat cakes are baked before they have
risen to their best estate.”
"Kate, do you know how to make good corn-
bread?” asked Emeline. "I am especially fond
of it. But I am so heartily sick of 'Indian bread.'
and 'Indian cakes,' as Northern and Eastern cooki:
persist in calling the wretched preparations of
corn meal they manufacture, that I hope you will
devote a chapter of your book to the considera-
tion of corn-bread.”.
" Thank you, Emeline, for the suggestion.
Corn-bread being a Southern institution or spc-
cialty, is very much neglected by Northern and
Eastern cooks; or, when made by them, is so
doctored,' as a general rule, that a genuine lover
of the article scarcely recognizes it in the vile
mixture of grease, soda, eggs, milk, and sugar,
thickened with poor corn meal ground so fine as
to be destitute of character or sweetness. South-
ern corn is as much superior to that grown at the
North, as a Hubbard squash is tò a yellow
pumpkin; but Southern corn, ground as fine as
the meal that is generally used at the North, loses
much of its excellence. Southern cooks undoubt-
edly excel in the art of making corn-bread of
various kinds, among which the pone and hoe


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
77
cake used to take first rank. But since open fires,
Dutch ovens, and bake-kettles, have been super-
seded by ranges and cooking-stoves, pone and
hoe-cake have been superseded by 'dodgers,' and
other varieties of corn-bread, baked upon the
griddle, or in the oven, as convenience dictates.
The pone, in the old time, was made of meal,
warm water, yeast, and a little salt; and after
becoming light by fermentation, was baked, ----
large loaf, in a Dutch oven, for five or six hours.
The hoe-cake was still more simple, being corn
meal mixed with warm water and a little salt, into
a stiff dough, fashioned by the hands into cakes
an inch thick, and baked on a board, tilted before
the fire, or, in the negro cabins, upon the hoe,
which no doubt gave it the name. The dodger is
a legitimate descendant of the hoe-cake, and I
think deserves precedence in the corn-bread ranks.
To make it, take a quart of corn meal, a teaspoon-
ful of sugar, and a salt-spoonful of salt. Scald
with boiling water, leaving the paste so thick that
when moulded into cakes in the hand it retains its
form, or if placed upon the griddle with a spoon,
will remain heaped and not spread into thin cakes.
Put a piece of butter, half the size of a pea, just
where the dodger is to be placed on the griddle,
and when melted, lay the cake upon it. In like
manner fill the griddle. When brown, turn them
over; but just before turning, place a small bit


78
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
of butter on each cake, and when turned, press it
gently in the centre to flatten the rounded surface,
and bring the cake close to the griddle at the
edges. These cakes should be an inch thick ; and
they require half an hour to bake, The heat
must, of course, be moderate, and the cakes may
be turned several times if necessary. After being
turned on the griddle and browned on both sides,
they can be transferred to a pan and a hot oven,
to finish baking; or they can be baked altogether
in a hot oven, if desirable. Although these dodg-
ers are very good baked in this manner for only
thirty or forty minutes, they are much better
when baked a longer time. An hour's baking in
a moderate oven gives them a crisp sweetness,
quite irresistible to lovers of corn-bread; and
when properly made and baked, they are such
delicious breakfast-cakes that I do not wonder one
accustomed to them, turns in disgust from the
messes often presented under the name of corn-
bread, in which grease and soda bear so promi-
nent a part, that the stuff smells and tastes like
soap.
" Corn-muffins are very fine, made in this way :
To a quart of corn meal add an ounce of butter,
a teaspoonful of sugar, and a salt-spoonful of salt.
Scald with boiling water, pouring the water on
slowly, and stirring the mixture until all the meal
is moistened. When cool, add the yolks of three


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS. , 79
eggs, and beat well through the dough ; then add
cold, sweet milk, a small portion at a time, beat-
ing thoroughly, until the batter is of proper thick-
· ness. Beat the whites to a stiff froth, and add
half at a time, alternating with a measure of bak-
ing-powder mixed with a small quantity of meal.
Bake in muffin-rings, gem cups, or shallow pans,
in a quick oven. Made a little thinner, this bat-
ter may be baked upon the griddle as thin griddle-
cakes, - although the Southern griddle-cakes, or
'slappers, as the colored people call them, are
made in a somewhat different manner. I stood by
Aunt Nancy, a colored woman, who made them
deliciously, and saw just how she did it. She put
a quart of meal in a bowl, and in the centre made
a nest or hole, into which she dropped a lump of
lard as large as a hickory nut, a pinch of salt, and
a small teaspoonful of sugar. Then she poured
boiling water on slowly, stirring the meal until all
was moistened, when, pressing it compactly
together in the bottom of the bowl, she lef' it to
swell, honey,' while she brought out the griddle
and greaser, and got things ready for the baking.
This done, she returned to the cakes, and having
ascertained that the dough was not too warm, she
broke into it three eggs, stirring them briskly, with
a spoonful or two of cold milk, through the dough.
From time to time she added cold milk in small


80.
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
quantities, continuing the stirring until the batter
was quite thin, when she announced, -
ee Dem's done ready, now, miss.”
c. But you've forgotten the soda, Aunt Nancy,”
I said.
"'Forgot de sody,' she repeated, with infinite
disgust, 'what for should I go spile dem slappers
with sody?'”
"In answer to my question why she didn't beat
the eggs before she put them in the batter, she
said emphatically, ‘Better dis yere way, honey.
You take my 'vice, and don't go trying no 'speri-
ments wid dese yere slappers.' I did, however,
try the experiment of beating the eggs separately,
after which I agreed with Aunt Nancy that they
were better'dis yere way.'
" This same 'slapper' batter, left a little stiffer,
baked in the oven in shallow pans, cut in squares
and served hot, is a very fine specimen of corn-
bread, sometimes called Cape May bread.”
" Cousin Kate, do you know why the 'slappers'
are better for having the eggs beaten only in and
with the batter?”
"I think I do. But I don't mean to tell you,
Alice, for the reason that I wish you to solve
those riddles yourself, the reading of which re-
quires only a little mild thinking."
"Speaking of riddles, reminds me of some-
thing," said Alice, "I intended mentioning to


GRIDDLE-CAKES AND OTHER THINGS.
81
you half an hour ago. Have you or ma seen the
absurd article in the 'Democrat ??"
"No,” exclaimed both Emeline and myseif, in-
voluntarily.
" Then listen to this,” was Alice's reply, as she
unfolded the Westfield " Democrat,” and read to
us the following: -
" ABOUT GHOSTS.- For some weeks it has been
the current report that ghostly visitants have
taken possession of the Douglas mansion, which
is in charge of the gardener during the absence of
the family, and hold private scances there, on
which occasions they materialize or assume the
forms they wore while tarrying in this mundane
sphere in years gone by. Although we have but
little faith in either the ghosts or the reports,
many of our readers appear to be deeply inter-
ested in both, and wish us to give them all the
information that can be obtained upon the subject.
We have therefore detailed a special reporter, in
whom we have the utmost confidence, to work up
the case, and give us the benefit of his investigal-
tions, and we hope shortly to lay before the read-
ers of the 'Democrat,' a full account of the ghosts
and their doings. Our reporter has been on duty
several days, but has not as yet made much
progress. The gardener, he says, ' doesn't inter-
view worth a cent,' and he adds, very emphatically,


82
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
'the old fellow's wife is more secretive than a
clam.' He is busily engaged reading up on the
literature of 'spooks, and hobgoblins generally,
so as to be equal to the emergency, and fully pre-
pared to tackle any sort of a ghost that may pre-
sent itself. The facts he has gathered are very
few and unsatisfactory, but we have high hopes of
his giving us something racy in a short time, for
he is willing to swear that he has had frequent
glimpses of a creature, not of the earth earthy,
flitting about the garden and veranda in the twi-
light, with hair floating about her shoulders, and
dressed in the traditional white robes that ghosts
are said to assume when they appear to mortal
eyes."


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
83
CHAPTER VI.
BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP. .
"KATE, do I understand you to say that this
coffee, which is so perfectly clear, has nothing
used for settling it, but a spoonful of cold water?”
As I took the coffee she handed me, I answered,
"At the time of making, nothing but water is
added to the coffee, but at the time of browning,
one egg is mixed with a pound of coffee. Coffee
can be settled perfectly with a spoonful of cold
water; but it stays settied better, and is not so
casily disturbed or roiled, where egg is used. A
cup of first-rate coffee, Lineline, is something
rarely found on the average American table ; nor
is it surprising, perhaps, when we consider that
making coffee is a delicate matter, and that the
beverage is so easily spoiled, at any point from
the beginning to the end of the process. Sev-
eral things are requisite in order to have good
coffec. First, the coffee must be of good quality,
carefully picked over, and cleaned by rubbing in
a dry towel. Next, it must be properly roasted.
There are very perfect mechanisms for browning
coffee ; but any woman can roast it perfectly in the


84
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
oven, if she attends to it. In a medium-sized .
dripping-pan a pound can be roasted at a time.
The person roasting the coffee should give it her
undivided attention while it is in the oven, other-
wise she will often forget, and the coffee be
spoiled. Coffee should roast slowly at first, an
occasional shaking to change the position of the
grains being all the attention it requires. After
remaining ten or fifteen minutes in the oven, the
heat may be increased, and the shaking must be
done more frequently. Towards the last it must
be looked at every few minutes, lest unawares it
surprise you with too dark a browning. But how
brown it should be, depends somewhat upon the
taste of the drinker and the kind of coffee used.
Rio will bear a browner tinge than Java. If the
coffee, when made, is pale in color, and tastes of
the bean,- that is, has a raw taste,- it is not suffi-
ciently roasted. If it is black, and tastes bitter
and burnt, it is overdone. It is a good plan to
keep a spoonful of coffee unground, from one
roasting till the next, in order to compare the
newly roasted with it. When the coffee is roasted,
pour it into an earthen dish to cool; and when so
cool that you can clasp a handful of it tightly in
your palm and feel it only warm — not hot - add
to it a fresh egg, and with a fork stir it until per-
fectly mixed and each kernel has a share of the
egg. The warmth of the coffee should be just


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
85
sufficient to dry the egg adhering to it, and not
cook it. When dry, the egg does not interfere
with the grinding. Egg used in this manner is
neither so troublesome nor expensive as when
added at the time of making the coffee. Another
convenient, inexpensive method is to wash eggs
before breaking, and preserve the shells for set-
tling coffee.
"The grinding of coffee is an important consid-
eration. If ground very coarse, much of the
strength remains in the grounds, some of which
are often seen floating about in your cup, in an
independent manner, and an isolated condition.
If ground too fine, it will be muddy in spite of
everything. Of course a happy medium is right.
Some ladies have coffee prepared in one pot and
poured into another before sending to table ; but
this is a bad practice, for every time coffee is
exposed to the air it loses some of its aroma and
excellence. When I have a fragrant perfume of
coffee in my chamber while dressing, I take it for
granted that I shall miss at breakfast the delicious
aroma that has been so freely exhaled all over the
house. If it is borne to me on the wings of the
morning up three flights of stairs, how can I hope
to find it concentrated in my cup at breakfast ?
Reaily excellent coffee can be made in various ways.
The most perfect method of making it, perhaps, is
by dripping the boiling water through the coifee.


86
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
But rare coffee may be made in the ordinary manner
of steeping, if it is not allowed to boil enough to
extract the bitter, or waste the aroma. There is
one thing you must insist upon, Cousin Emeline,
if you would have the best quality of coffee and
tea; namely, the pots must be kept clean on the in-
side. If carefully washed every time they are
used, they will not become dark and coated with
deposits. Coffee made very strong, and diluted
with boiled milk instead of water, is liked by
many. That is a French style worthy of imita-
tion. Mixed coffees are also considered by many
finer in flavor than a single sort. I have tried
various combinations, and like Rio and Java in
equal proportions -- or two parts Rio, two parts
Java, and one part Mocha. To be most perfect,
I think the different kinds should be roasted sep-
arately, and mixed afterward. But my advice to
housekeepers is, experiment. Find out for your-
selves what is best, and don't believe implicitly in
any cook-book, not even Cousin Kate's. Use
cook-books as helps, as hints, but not as infallible
guides, and work out your salvation in cookery
by the use of your own brains. A week's supply
of coffee may be browned and ground at one time,
if it is kept in air-tight cans or canisters.
" Most cooks use too little coffee. I allow a
large tablespoon heaping full of ground coffee to a
medium-sized cup and a half of water. Measure


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
87
the coffee, and add to it a fresh egg, well beaten-
unless egg has been mixed with it at the time of
browning—and cold water enough to wet the
whole. Beat it well together and, placing in the
pot, add cold water till the pot is a third full.
Set it where it will steep slowly, stirring it from
time to time. Watch it closely, and as soon as it
is about to boil, add more cold water. Keep
adding cold water from time to time, just before
the boiling takes place, until the pot is full.
Then let it boil up once, settle, and serve.”
" But supposing,” said Alice, " that you didn't
want a pot full of coffee, and that filling the pot
would make it too weak, would you still fill the
pot?”
"By no means," I replied. "But I would have
the coffee-pot the size required, for you can't make
a pint of coffee in a quart pot, and have it of per-
fect quality. If there is more room in the pot
than is required, air fills the space and deteriorates
the quality of the coffee. Beside, a pint of coffee
tumbling about in a two-quart pot is sure to be
unsettled in pouring. Alice, not long since I
made coffee for a young gentleman, who, when
asked if it was good, answered,-and his voice
and face were very grave and serious,-'It is
simply divine.""
"O Cousin Kate!” laughingly exclaimed Alice;
"I tremble when I think of the possible conse-


88
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
quences of your having made such a cup of coffee,
had that young man been twenty years older.”
" Or Cousin Kate twenty years younger,” I
rejoined. "But, nonsense aside, Alice, I'm
sure you would like to know just how that
coffee was made. It was mixed coffee - two
parts Rio, two parts Java, and one part Mocha,
all of the best quality. In strength, it was
made in the proportion of three heaping table-
spoonfuls of coffee to one and a half cups of
water. That, you see, is three times as strong as
the directions just given. It was made with cold
water, carefully steeped, and perfectly settled,
and, before pouring, the cup was two-thirds filled
with boiled milk, and then filled with the strong
coffee; which made, in the estimation of that
young man, a 'draught fit for the gods.
" In boiling milk for coffee, Alice, do not let it
actually boil, but let it come just as near boiling
as possible and escape it, for it must be very hot.
But the flavor is finer in coffee if it is taken after
it is so heated as to be inflated with fine bubbles,
but not actually boiled. With a milk-boiler this
is easily managed ; for, just at the right moment,
it can be set back and kept hot for a long time.”
While we were loitering over breakfast, discuss-
ing the merits of coffee, Tom, the gardener's son,
brought us the morning mail. Among various
and sundry letters, postal-cards, etc., I found the


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
39
following rissives, the first from an old bachelor
cousin of mine, and the other from an intimate
lady friend. The old bachelor, who is very ab-
stemious in his habits, and exceedingly fond of
English breakfast tea and dry toast, wrote :-
" When do you expect to find leisure for that
long-promised cook-book? I do hope you will
write it soon, and will give such minute directions
in it for making both tea and toast, that no one
can fail to understand them. Strange as it may
seem, our best cook-books are ominously silent,
or hopelessly bewildering, about the methods of
making either; and I pray you to step to the
front, and furnish the much-needed information.
It would appear, at first blush, as if any one might
make good tea or good toast without instruction ;
yet it is a singular fact, that at the average table
one is about as great a rarity as the other. I con-
fess to a weakness for 'the cup that cheers but
does not inebriate,' for, to my taste, no other bev-
erage is so delicious as well-made tea; but for the
sloppy, bitter, or smoky-tasting decoctions that are
foisted upon us at hotels, restaurants, and private
houses, under that name, I have the most ineffable
contempt. It is an insult to any decent stomach to
force into it the wretched slops so barbarously
extracted from the Chinese herb. I write feel-
ingly on this subject, for it has been my privilege
to drink tea properly made, and fragrant memo-


COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
ries of the delicious flavor linger with me, eflect-
ually spoiling my relish for the common, vile
decoction.
le As for dry toast, I dare say no woman would
be willing to confess she did not know how to
toast bread; yet my experience is, that good toast
is the exception. Bad bread, scorched or burned,
and sent to the table cold and tough, is as unin-
viting a dish as can be served ; while a plate of
crisp, hot toast, properly prepared, is more appe-
tizing and tempting to the average man than the
dantiest of hot cakes or muffins. Give me a cup
of nice coffee or tea, with a plate of crisp, richly-
browned toast, and firm, golden butter, for my
morning or evening meal, and I will be content
with any relish you choose to add-even chipped
beef; or I will be satisfied with tea and toast
alone, if both are at their level best.
"Do make haste and enlighten the world about
tea and toast. For so doing, you will deserve its
everlasting gratitude, and shall have, at least, that
of
COUSIN JOHN.”.
"Poor John! it is too bad that a folorn old
bachelor can't have the small comfort to be found
in tea and toast,” observed Emeline, as I finished
reading the letter." I hope you will comply with
his requests. Your toast is always perfection
itself, and I think even Cousin John would be
quite satisfied with the English breakfast tea you


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
91
give us here, Kate; for I never drank finer, even
in England. How long do you boil it, and how
do you manage always to have it just right?”
"I do not boil it at all. And following precisely
the same method of making every time, why
should the quality of the tea vary? I think it
would be safer for a careless, inattentive cook to
boil the tea, if it did not boil more than a minute,
for to make it without boiling, three requisites
must be faithfully observed. The pot must be as
hot, when the tea is put into it, as boiling water
can make it. The water must be boiling when
poured upon the tea, and the tea must stand,
before being poured, from five to ten minutes.
This is the recipe I shall give for making English
breakfast tea: Ten or fifteen minutes before mak-
ing the tea, fill the teapot with boiling water, and
the tea-kettle with cold water, freshly drawn. It
makes a vast difference with the quality of the tea
whether it is made of water freshly boiled or of
stale water that has stood in the kettle and been
re-boiled, until all the sparkle and life have gone
out of it. As soon as the kettle boils, empty the
tea-pot, rinsing it with boiling water. Put into it
a heaping teaspoonful of tea to each person, allow-
ing a cup and a half of water to the same. Cover
closely, letting it stand from five to ten minutes
before pouring. Cream is as essential to good tea
as it is to good coffee ; and in both cases is best


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
93
"By no means," I replied. "The quantity of
tea required depends upon the strength of the tea,
and the taste of the drinker. A greater bulk is
required of coarse, than of fine tea; and both
course and fine teas vary much in strength. In
making tea, as in most things relating to cookery,
yood sense and discriminating care are essential
on the part of the cook.
"To make the meanest toast possible take bread
that is a little sour, a trifle raw, or not quite light,
and is not fit to eat untoasted. Lay it on a grid-
iron over a hot fire, where it will burn before it
even dries. When burned sufficiently to taste
bitter, spread it with strong butter and pack the
slices one above the other, allowing it to become
cool before serving, and you have a dish that
would ruin the digestion of an ostrich, and that no
sensible person should touch. The woman who
thinks good toast can be made of bad bread labors
under a terrible delusion. Most of the attempts
to improve bad bread or bad butter prove futile,
as no amount of doctoring can change their normal
condition. They generally retain all their original
badness in spite of their disguises and conversions.
To make the best quality of toast, the bread must
be good. If stale, it will toast quickly by being
held a short distance from a clear fire. If fresh,
lay the slices on a gratę, or wire frame, in a hot
oven until slightly dried. A toasting-fork is much


94
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
better for toasting bread than a gridiron, as, held
by a fork, the entire surface of the bread is ex-
posed to the clear fire, and the distance between
the toast and the fire can be increased or lessened
at will. Serve toast hot in a toast-holder, or laid
singly on a plate. If the slices are piled one upon
another they sweat and become tough and clammy.
Most persons prefer to butter toast for themselves,
and many dislike it soaked with melted butter.”
The letter from my lady friend Fanny, ran
thus :
"I hope you are making some progress in your
efforts to ameliorate the unhappy condition of the
people who eat. Unfortunately, I'm in a position
to appreciate the need of your labors, for, alas !
I'm boarding. For dinner to-day we had spring
lamb and green pease, the first of the season, and
both were unfit to eat by reason of being under-
done -- that is, raw. After tasting the pease, I
shoved them away in disgust, and with an injured
feeling which I think not conducive to digestion,
I picked out bits of lamb so far cooked that the
squeaking sound it made while undergoing friction
from my teeth, in a very faint degree resembled
une far-off bleating of a lamb; and that resem-
blance, I'm certain, was pure imagination, for I
have no doubt the lamb was dead, even if it was
not cooked. Had the pease been sufficiently
boiled, they would still have been nearly worth-


96
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
served in all the intermediate stages between
asparagus soup and asparagus mush; and have
known it to be mixed with dandelions, mustard,
and lamb's quarter. In rinsing, it is not enough
to pour water over the asparagus. Each stalk
should be held separately by the base, and swashed
back and forth in a large pan of water until free
from sand and dust. Then it should be tied in small
bunches, and laid carefully in a stewpan of boiling
water, slightly salted. Let the water barely cover
the vegetable. Simmer gently until very tender
and perfectly cooked. Have ready a platter, cov-
ered with small slices of dry toast. With a fork
lift a bunch of asparagus by means of the string
around it, let it drip for an instant, then place it
carefully upon a slice of toast. When all is so
placed, cut and remove the strings. Pour over it
drawn butter made with milk, or simply melted
butter. The toast is not only a palatable accom-
paniment, but is useful in serving the vegetable.”
"I was reading the other day,” said Alice,
"about the etiquette of high-toned society in New
York. Among other things, I learned that it is
there considered vulgar to eat the toast upon which
the asparagus is served.”
"I know of no better method of cooking pease
or asparagus than those described by Fanny, and
shall certainly preserve her letter among my cook-
book scraps. String beans and green lima beans


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
97
should be cooked in the same manner as green
pease. Dried beans, a palatable, nutritious veg-
etable, are seldom seen upon our tables, save as
the old, time-honored, traditional baked pork and
beans, a dish which the average modern stomach
rejects as too strong. But why discard the bean
because pork and beans make too hearty a Jish,
or because the discovery of trichina has spoiled
our relish for pork? To cook dried beans, place
them on the back of the stove in a plentiful supply
of cold water. When swelled, drain the water
off and give them a fresh supply. Let them
simmer until parboiled. Drain again, adding
enough hot water to finish cooking. Boil gently
till soft, and, when done, season with salt, pepper,
and butter. Serve them at this stage as stewed
beans; or, place them in a deep dish, and bake in
a hot oven, and you have baked beans, without
the addition of pork. Care should be taken to
always have beans thoroughly cooked, as other-
wise they are indigestible and unwholesome.”
" Kate,” said Emeline, "I can give you a better
method for baking beans. Pick and soak the
beans over night in cold water. In the morning
put them into fresh cold water to boil, and simmer
gently till the skins break, and they seem about
to fall to pieces. Then season to taste with salt,
pepper, and butter; or, use pork, if preferred,
adding a tablespoonful of molasses to every two


98
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
quarts of beans. Put the beans in a deep crock,
place them in a moderate oven, and let them bake
indefinitely, only it must be a long indefinitely.
Add water from time to time, if necessary, to
keep them from becoming too dry. When they
assume a reddish-brown tinge, something akin in
color to Boston brown bread, their perfect state is
approaching; and they can be put into a baking-
dish, suitable to send to the table, and nicely
browned in the oven; or they can be set aside
until next day and re-baked in time for dinner.
Now, Kate, if you can place beside this recipe one
for Boston brown bread, your cook-book will be
appreciated. By the way, I wonder if this admix-
ture of molasses in baked beans gave rise to the
assertion that Yankees eat pork and molasses."
." Are we,” asked Alice, "to understand that
green vegetables are to be put to cook in hot
water, and dried ones in cold water "
"All dried vegetables should certainly be put
into cold, or lukewarm, water; but there is a
difference of opinion in regard to fresh vegetables.
Some cooks contend that it preserves their green
color to put them into boiling water, but as I fail
to see why vegetables are more desirable on
account of shades of colors, that suggestion has no
weight with me. From experiments that I have
made, I fail to discover any material difference
between putting green vegetables to cook in cold,


100
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
add the whites of three eggs, beaten to a stiff
froth, and three tablespoonfuls of flour. Add the
egg and flour alternately, first egg and then flour,
in two or three portions, stirring them in with a
fork. Season lightly with salt and pepper, and
fry the same as oysters, putting a spoonful at a
time on the griddle, or in the spider. Fry in a
small quantity of lard and butter mixed. Brown
on both sides and serve on a heated platter."
" Kate, I beseech you,” Emeline said, as soon
as I paused, " that you deal justly with the potato
-- the white potato that we eat at all meals, and
in all seasons, nearly every day of our lives.
What a sorry, sad-looking object it is as it comes
from the hands of some cooks, sent to the table in
its dingy jacket, or sallow and waxen, without its
jacket, that having been hastily removed just
before serving. But served in either of these
styles it is preferable to that miserable mash,
bluish in color, full of lumps and cold stiffness, or
watery and rank in flavor.”
"Your descriptions," I replied, "are perfect,
Emeline ; I recognize each as an old acquaintance.
The white, or Irish potato, when full grown, I
think, is always better pared before cooking.
Not only pared, but well pared. Having carefully
retroved all the dark eyes and dingy spots, let the
potatoes lie for an hour or two in a plentiful sup-
ply of cold water, and then put them to boil, in a


BREAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
101
,
large quantity of boiling water. They should boil
moderately, and as soon as tender at the heart, be •
drained, partly covered and set to dry on the back
of the stove. Every minute or two give them a
gentle shake, so that they roll over and change
positions, until they are perfect snowballs of pow-
dery whiteness. If served in this state, you will
find them the perfection of boiled potatoes. I
think very few would pass them by untasted. If
mashed, the potato should be made fine and free
from all lumps, before cream, milk, or butter is
added. After the seasoning is in, beat well with
a wooden spoon, or potato-beater, until light.
Serve hot.
" This is a general rule for boiling potatoes; but
like all rules it has exceptions. Different varieties
of the vegetable require different methods of cook-
ing. Some may be better placed to boil in cold
water and allowed to heat gradually, as the water
heats; others in a small quantity of water; while
others — the peach-blow, for instance — should
never be boiled at all, but should be either baked
or steamed. When baked in a hot oven, the peach-
blow is dry, mealy, and white, and always satis-
factory. It is also the same steamed. But boiled,
it is worse than a disappointment. It is a hard-
hearted thing with all its tenderness on the surface;
and boil it as you will, the result is unsatisfactory


102
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
- usually hardness at the core, while the outside
is cooked into a mush or gruel. To drain and dry
properly under these circumstances is difficult.
But no woman should rest content with an imper-
fect dish of potatoes. If one method of cooking
fails she should try another.
"An agreeable companion to fried chicken is fried
potato, done in this way: Slice very thin, soak
for an hour or two in cold water, changing the
water once or twice. Drain the slices in a strainer,
and dry them on towels, by rolling and tumbling
them from one towel to another. Have the slices
separate, not packed together, when put into the
boiling lard. Fry the same as chicken. When
of a light brown, lift, hy means of a wire skimmer
- an indispensable thing in every well-ordered
kitchen -- and drain in a wire or tin sieve. Serve
hot. The last water in which the slices lie may
be slightly salted, or a very slight sprinkling of
salt given them when served.
" Stewed potato, a nice breakfast dish, is easily
prepared. Cut the potato in slices about an
eighth of an inch in thickness. Boil gently until
tender, but not quite done. Drain the water away,
adding sweet cream and seasoning. Cover closely
and stew very gently for a few minutes. A little
minced parsley, if liked, may be added.
"Browned potatoes are very nice for dinner, with


ORTAKFAST-TABLE GOSSIP.
103
a roast. Pare and place them in the dripping-pan
around the meat. Turn them over when partly
done, that they may brown evenly. Potatoes of
medium size require an hour to cook in this
manner.”


104
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
CHAPTER VL.
AT DINNEP
" I THINK, Cousin Emeline, there is no dish
more usually detestable in America than soup.
Were I to describe most truthfully what I have
usually found passing under that name, I should
call it greasy water, well seasoned with pepper and
salt, and having in it macaroni, rice, or stringy
bits of vegetables,- a mixture both unwholesome
and unpalatable. In my cook-book I mean to
insist that one of the cardinal virtues of good
cooking is, that food shall be so prepared as not
to taste watery. I have often dined where every
article of food upon the table could have been
properly labelled "watery,' for the soup was
watery, the roast was watery, the vegetables were
watery, and even the pies and puddings were
watery. But this soup which Alice has served us
to-day, would silence the complaints of the most
inveterate grumbler. It is lovely to look at, being
of a rich color, between amber and ruby, and the
flavor is like a mingling of many good things,
whereby something far better has been produced,
than is concealed in any single ingredient. You


AT DINNER.
105
taste neither water, meat, vegetables, herbs, nor
spices. You cannot be sure this, that, or the
other went to make up the delicious whole. You
relish it. It is appetizing, satisfying, and worthy
of being called soup. The cook who serves a
soup like this is an artist, with fine tastes and
keen perceptions; and although neither Alice nor
I could give the exact recipe, the general rules for
making soup are easily laid down, and each cook
must put in the delicate finishing touches accord-
ing to taste and fancy.
" In the first place a soup-kettle must be a soup-
kettle, and nothing else. And unless made with
a false bottom it should stand on a rest that raises
it from the stove, so that its contents shall not be
in danger of burning. Let the cover fit closely.
Put into it a beef bone, carefully washed and
broken; the trimmings of beefsteak, veal cutlets,
lamb chops; the refuse pieces of cold meat of all
sorts, roasted, boiled or fried; also game, fresh
fish, the skeletons of roast chicken or turkey,
beefsteak bones, and all scraps that are good
for nothing else, --- bearing in mind always that
they must be clean and not burned. Never allow
the soup-kettle to boil, but let it simmer unceas-
ingly. When all the desirable qualities are
extracted from the bones and meat by this long-
continued simmering, strain the contents of the
kettle into an earthen bowl. Cover, and set aside.


106
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
In cold weather, soup'stock,' as this preparation
is called, may be kept for many days, especially
if the surface covering of grease is not removed ;
but in warm weather it should only be kept,
and then in a cool place, from one day until the
next. Before returning the stock to the soup-
kettle, carefully remove all the grease, and add
barley, rice, macaroni, vermicelli, vegetables, or
such ingredients as desired, according to the sort
of soup to be made. The carrot I consider one
of the most important vegetables for soup, as it
has a good taste and a rich color, and is whole-
some. Tomatoes and onions come next in order;
but the latter should be used only for flavoring,
and sparingly. The soup which has inspired my
observations was, I think, made in this manner:
To two quarts of soup stock, two carrots, ten
tomatoes, one onion, and a pinch of thyme or
sweet marjoram were added. When the veg-
etables were simmered to pieces, the soup was
strained, the shreds of vegetables thrown away,
and the soup returned to the kettle. A table-
spoonful of flour, stirred to a smooth paste with a
little butter, was added when the soup came to a
boil, also a little salt and pepper. Care was taken
not to overdo the seasoning, but to blend every-
thing perfectly. And just before serving, Alice
put into the soup-tureen diced toast; that is, dry
toast, very crisp, cut in small square bits. These


AT DINNER.
107
bits of toast are best when added to the soup by
the hostess just before serving, as then they reach
the mouth in a dry, or less soaked condition, and,
requiring some mastication, assist the digestion of
the soup. Instead of toast, bread may be cut into
small bits and fried in butter, until brown and
crisp, or carrots cut in the same form and stewed
until tender, may be added in place of either, or
the soup may be served clear. When carrots,
tomatoes, and browned bits of meat and bones
are not used in preparing soup, a tablespoonful
each of flour, butter, and sugar, browned together
and added to the soup, gives it a rich color and
fine flavor. Pure broths of beef, mutton, or
chicken, delicately seasoned with salt and pepper,
and having no other ingredients than rice or bar-
ley, are always good, and in many respects better
than more elaborate soups. But broths, as well
as soups, should have their distinct flavors, and
should not be mere sloppy or greasy gruel, fero-
ciously salted and peppered.
"This leg of lamb, Alice, is done to a turn,
which cannot truthfully be said of the average
roast. Meat should be put to roast in as hot an
oven as it will bear without burning. After the
outside is browned and crusted over, imprisoning
the juices within, the heat may be somewhat
lessened. But I recommend roasting all meats as
quickly as possible. The roast should be placed


AT DINNER.
109
searing process is not, however, so much in saving
time in roasting, as in saving the juices of the
meat by the instant forming of crusts on the out-
side. I feel confident that no sensible woman,
after a fair trial of the method of roasting meats
by placing them dry in the pan, will ever return
to the old way of basting them with water or drip-
pings. It is a prevalent idea that meat will burn
in roasting, if not basted, or wet with drippings ;
but the fact is, meat will bear all the heat neces-
sary to roast it in the most perfect manner, and
not burn. Resting dry upon the bottom of the
pan, upper and under sides brown evenly at the
same time; and not only is the process of roasting
shortened, but nearly all the trouble of changing
the positions of the meat in the oven is avoided.
"To boil meats or fowls, put them in boiling
water and simmer smartly, until tender. Never
allow them to boil fast or furiously, as so doing
toughens the meat, and at the same time robs it
of its juices. The smallest quantity of water
possible should be used in boiling meats, and no
salt should be added until the meat is nearly
done. The fowl or joint should be covered
closely, and frequently turned in the pot while
boiling. Ham is best put in cold water and sim-
mered gently until well done. The ham should be
placed in the boiler with the skin down, and with
sufficient water to cover it. After it begins to boil,


110
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
fifteen minutes to each pound it weighs is not too
much time to give it for thorough boiling. When
removed from the water it should be allowed to
cool before it is skinned. After skinning, place
it in a pan, cover the outside thickly with white
sugar, saturate with wine or vinegar, and brown
richly in a moderate oven. Smoked ham should
always be soaked over night in cold water, scraped
and well washed before boiling.
"Salted meats, such as corned beef, tongue, etc.,
if too salt to be boiled in a small quantity of
water, should be soaked in cold water, which
extracts the salt without injuring the meat.”.
" Kate, in your cook-book do you mean to con-
sider the whole bill of fare from beginning to
end; or will you select from it here and there,
taking only such articles and subjects as seem to
you most needing consideration ?”
"To discuss, or even glance at our whole bill
of fare would require more time than I could give
were I to live to threescore and ten. All I hope
to do is to call attention to the importance of the
subject, and to suggest such improvements in
methods of cooking as have come under my per-
sonal observation. I shall not lumber up my
cook-book with numberless untried recipes, but
will endeavor to give the general principles that
underlie them all; so that by its aid any woman
with an ordinary quantity of brains will be en-


112
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
A beef tongue cooked and served the same way is
delicious.” And Emeline continued : " Kate, I
incline to the opinion that enjoyment of a meal
depends in great measure upon the suitability of
the, things composing it. One can, no doubt,
acquire a taste for almost any kind of food; but
while some kinds appear to be divorced by nature,
other kinds seem to be designed expressly to go
together.”
"You are right," I replied. "White potatoes,
fur instance, are suitable with nearly everything.
Baked potatoes are universally acceptable with
cold meats for dinner; and with beefsteak, chops,
or picked-up codfish for breakfast. They are
especially good with all kinds of fresh fish, and
also with fried or scalloped oysters. Mashed or
plain boiled potatoes should be served with stewed
chicken, and roast meats or fowls with which
gravies are served. Sweet potatoes seem most at
home with roast beef, lamb, and fowls. Turnips
and cabbages are appropriate with mutton and
corned beef. Onions with beefsteak, roast beef,
and roast fowls. Tomatoes are good with fish,
flesh, or fowl; but are especially good with fat
meats or poultry. This is also the case with sour
baked or stewed apples. Sour baked apples are
also nice with hash, for breakfast.
"But the suitability of food is a fruitful theme,
and should be as much a subject of study as the


AT DINNER.
113
suitability of sounds or colors. The idea has
somehow obtained that it is improper or udigni-
fied for intelligent men and women to make a
study of gastronomy. The cultivated stomach,
however, appreciates contrast and harmonies in
taste as keenly as the cultivated eye or ear does
in color or sound; and I am satisfied, in my uwn
mind, that the stomach is as much jarred and dis-
arranged by inharmonious tastes as either eye or
ear by inharmonious sights or sounds. The stom-
ach is the most important, as well as the most
delicate, organ in a human being.. It is not
merely a receptacle for stuff that has tickled the
palate, or for food that will sustain life. It is the
workshop in which are prepared all the materials
essential to the building up of body and brain,
and its reeds and demands should be treated with
thoughtful consideration.”
" Cousin Kate, don't forget our rice pudding,"
said Alice.
"Ah, no! Let me help your mother. Sce, as
the spoon cuts through the light brown skin, a
rich, creamy substance appears; not of a pure
white, but with a faint tinge of salmon. Each
grain of rice is perfect in form and of large size,
as if expanded to its utmost capacity ; yet so soft
that the slightest pressure is sufficient to crush it.
This pudding is made of milk, rice, and sugar. It
contains no raisins, butter, or water. The pro-


114
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
portions are these : Eight measures of new milk,
one measure of rice, one measure of sugar. If
desired, it may be flavored with lemon, vanilla, or
nutmeg, and a small pinch of salt should be added.
Place it on the range, where it will heat slowly.
Stir occasionally while the rice is swelling, and
when the milk is boiling hot, place the pudding in
a moderate oven and bake for one hour, or until
the rice is quite soft. Do not stir the pudding
after placing it in the oven, but try to ascertain if
the rice is done before removing it. Serve cold.
This simple pudding, I think, nine persons out of
ten would prefer to those messes and mixtures
compounded of boiled rice, eggs, fruit, and but-
ter, and served warm with sauce. Yet the aver-
age cook takes extra pains to make the expensive,
indigestible dish, while this simple, wholesome,
and delicious dish seems to be almost unknown.
The error of supposing that nearly every kind of
food is improved by the addition of butter seems
to be as wide-spread as it is damaging and false.
While some dishes are improved for most tastes,
by the judicious use of good butter, a vastly
greater number are spoiled by the injudicious use
of bad butter. And here I wish to say emphati-
cally, that I know of no judicious use to which bad
butter can be applied by a housewife, except that
of making it into soap. To put bad butter into
pastry, puddings, and vegetables, does not make


AT DINNER.
115
the butter good. It simply spoils the pastry,
puddings, and vegetables. Many dishes are over-
dosed with sweet butter; while others in which it
it is usually found are much better without it.
American cooks have entirely too much faith in
the virtue and potency of grease.”
" In looking over the 'American Woman's
Home' the other day,” observed Alice, "I came
across a paragraph on butter, that I presume you
would endorse. I will read it to you: 'A matter
for despair as regards bad butter is, that at the
tables where it is used it stands sentinel at the
door to bar your way to every other kind of food.
You turn from your dreadful half slice of bread
which fills your mouth with bitterness, to your
beefsteak, which proves virulent with the same
poison. You think to take refuge in vegetable
diet, and find the butter in the string-beans, and
polluting the innocence of early pease. It is in
the corn, in the succotash, in the squash. The
beets swim in it; the onions bave it poured over
them. Hungry and miserable, you think to solace
yourself at dessert, but the cake is acrid and the
pastry is cursed with the same plague.""
" But to change the subject, Kate, have you
noticed,” interrogated Emeline, "on how few
tables you find rice that is properly cooked ? ”
"Yes, I have noticed with sorrow the ignorance
and stupidity exhibited in the preparation of so
simple an article of food,


116
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
"There are several excellent methods of cooking
rice. This is one of them: After the rice has been
carefully picked and washed, add three measures
of warm water to one measure of rice, and soak
for an hour. Then cook it in the same water, by
setting the dish containing it in a steamer, and
steaming it for one hour. When put to steam add
a small quantity of salt, and stir two or three times
with a fork during the first fifteen minutes. Rice
cooked in this manner will be white and dry, with
each grain separate and distinct, yet soft and
palatable. If desired, part of the water can be
left out, and its equivalent in milk added, when
the rice is nearly done cooking. One advantage
of this method is, that rice can be boiled in a china
bowl, or any vessel preferred.
" If you wish to cook rice quickly, I know of
no better way than this : Put one measure of rice
in five measures of boiling water. Cover closely
and boil rapidly, twenty or twenty-five minutes,
till tender. Drain, partly cover, and set fifteen
minutes, where it will keep hot, and dry off.”
Alice seemed to be growing restless and im-
patient about something; but she gave no expres-
sion to her feelings except by a quick, nervous
tapping of the toe of her kid slipper upon the
carpet, and by a frequent pushing back of the stray
curls which rested against her cheek. At last she
sprang up joyfully, exclaiming : "Oh, Susannah,


AT DINNER.
117
what a deal of work you must have had to do this
morning. Where shall we go first? Up stairs,
down stairs, or to the lady's chamber?”
"I always do her room first, and the drawing-
room last,” replied Susannah, adding: "Will you
come too, Miss Kate? and perhaps the Madam
wouldn't object.”
Upon this invitation we all followed her up-
stairs, and through the dimly-lighted passage, to
the suite of rooms heretofore mentioned as having
been occupied by the late Mrs. Douglas. The
main room was large, airy, and well-lighted.
Opening out of this were two smaller ones — a bed-
chamber and a dressing-room. The walls were of
a soft gray tint, and were hung with paintings,
engravings, and chromos. The carpet had a gray
ground, covered with vines of the trailing arbutus,
so perfect that, as our feet pressed them, we almost
expected the delicious fragrance of the crushed
flowers to come stealing up from their mossy bed.
Window draperies, easy-chairs, and lounges were
of gray cretonne, relieved by glowing vines and
bright blossoms. All the furniture was of rose-
wood, massive and delicately carved. At the foot
of the bed stood a small crib, the lace curtains of
which were looped back with rose-colored ribbons.
By the side of the crib Alice paused, and, with
trembling voice, asked, " Did the baby die too ?”
"O yes, Miss, before the mother. And it was the


AT DINNER.
119
to any of us whether we die to-day, or to-mor-
row, or in a few years. The end soon comes any-
how."
"Cousin Kate, what is this?" interrupted Alice,
holding up a small, beautifully bound volume, on
the back of which, in letters of gold, was the
name-"Helen Douglas."
" That,” I answered, " is a memorial ----a tribute
to the dead wife, written by the husband during
the first weeks of his bereavement. It contains
some beautiful things. Wouldn't you like to look
it over at your leisure?”
"Indeed, I should," was the reply; and Alice
tucked the book under her arm, hugging it closely
to her side, as if she regarded it as a rare treasure,
while we followed Susannah to the drawing-room.
No sooner were the windows opened, and the
room filled with light and sunshine than Alice ex-
citedly exclaimed:
" Mamma, look at those pictures —'My lord'
and his mother. Cousin Kate, what does it all
mean? Who are these people ?”
" That,” I answered, quietly, "is the portrait of
my old school-mate Jennie Douglas, and this a
very good likeness of her son Gerald; while this
is an idealized but faithful picture of his wife.
Wasn't she a beautiful woman?”
"She is beautiful,” said Alice. "I can't bear to
hear to hear you say she was beautiful, as if her


120
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
life was ended. Had I known her, I could
never think of her as dead, I am sure.”
"Kate,” asked Emeline, " did you suspect that
our Switzerland acquaintances were your friends,
the Douglases ?”
"I did suspect, in fact was sure of their identity
from your very accurate descriptions. Quite a
romance, isn't it, Alice ? And that you should
have dreamed of this man the first night you slept
under his roof, not knowing of his association with
these scenes, seems to me a singular coincidence.
But there is no accounting for dreams, or the
strange happening of events. The most unlooked
for, as well as most unwished for circumstances,
sometimes turn our lives into a new channel, and,
in after days, we see what we thought at the time
a great calamity, was, after all, for our best
good.”
"Yes,” said Emeline, reflectively, "this life
seems a sad muddle. We go groping about in
the dark, seeing strange shapes of evil, and
stumbling over neglected graves, longing for
light, and praying for mists and fogs to roll away ;
and sometimes catching glorious glimpses of the
evil shapes changing to friendly faces, and the
sad graves becoming mounds of bloom and green-
ness. But, Kate, we have been here more than a
month, and you have not devoted one hour to my
novel. Now, on the first rainy day, I shall ex-


122
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
Her hands were folded upon her bosom, one of
them touching a large cross suspended from her
neck by a tiny gold chain. This was the only
ornament she wore. Her eyes were raised as if
in prayer, and her light, wavy hair floated uncon-
fined over her neck and shoulders.
" It is, indeed, very lovely, and it will be a
wicked shame if the second Mrs. Douglas banishes
it to the attic,” was Emeline's response to her
daughter.
A slight flush appeared on Alice's cheek, as she
replied, " Mamma, Gerald Douglas looks to me
like a man who, loving once, would love forever;
but perhaps I can judge better what manner of
man he is, after reading this memorial.” And
Alice left us, to peruse in her own room, the small
gilt-edged volume dedicated to the memory of
Helen Douglas.


OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
123
CHAPTER VIII.
OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
"BROILED chicken for breakfast – how nice l’
said Cousin Emeline, as she lifted the cover from
the dish before me. "What a pity so few cooks
can broil well! I've had more difficulty in the
broiling department than in any other.”
"Broiling, Emeline, when properly done, is a
very satisfying method of cooking steaks, chops,
chicken, etc.,- satisfying to the eater thereof, I
mean. But the poor housewife who broils herself
as well as her meats, in the laborious effort to
attain perfection, does not perhaps enjoy it to the
same extent. With a suitable fire and other con-
veniences, broiling is not at all difficult. But
with the average range or cooking-stove it is no
easy matter, as the fire is seldom in right condi-
tion at the important moment. And my recom-
mendation to women who toil and suffer to bring
the broiled steak or chop to the table in perfec-
tion, is to try this method : At the time of placing
the steak over the fire, put into the oven a drip-
ping-pan large enough to hold the steak without
folding. As soon as the steak is lightly browned


124
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
on one side, turn and brown it on the other; then
transfer it instantly to the hot pan and oven,
where, if it be thick, it will need to remain from
five to ten minutes, according to the state in which
it is to be served. Serve on a heated platter, and
season after removing from the oven. This
method relieves the cook, saves all, the juices of
the meat, and prevents it from burning on the
outside while it remains raw within. No one can
tell a steak so cooked from one finished on the
gridiron; and those who have tried both methods,
find the hot-oven finish far superior. But it will
not answer to have the oven warm merely. It
must be hot. Or, steaks, chops, etc., may be
broiled -- literally broiled -- in this way: Set your
spider on the stove, and let it get smoking hot.
Put in no butter nor any kind of grease. Have
your meat previously prepared by trimming off
all pieces of bone, gland, superfluous suet, and
tissue that will bind the edge and make it turn up.
Lay it carefully and smoothly in the spider. It
will stick fast at first, but as soon as browned it
can be loosened with a knife. When juice begins
to appear turn it over, and let the other side
brown the same as the first. Press closely to the
pan when turned, and turn as often as is necessary
to save the juices and cook the steak properly.
"Lamb or mutton chops are very nice, dipped in
beaten egg, covered with bread-crumbs rolled fine,


OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
125
and fried like chicken, in a quantity of boiling
lard. When broiled, they should always be done,
like steak, in a hot pan, unless they are very
much trimmed ; that is, unless the small piece of
lean tenderloin is separated entirely from the bone
and fat, which should be rejected. These trimmed
chops may be broiled over a clear fire in a wire
gridiron, such as is used for oysters; and, when
so cooked, are delicious. The rejected bone
and fat can be saved in a stew, or in the soup-
kettle. But it would be no more wasteful to
throw them away, than to retain and broil alto-
gether, as is usually done. For in the latter case
the result is generally a badly damaged chop,
smoked and burned from the dripping of grease
- an unsightly, awkward piece, from which nine
persons out of ten select and eat the small bit
only, leaving the rest upon their plates to be
thrown out with the scraps from the table. But
in my cook-book, in connection with this recipe
for broiling, I intend to put in staring capitals,
KEEP THE BROILING-PAN PIPING HOT ALL THE TIME
THE MEAT IS COOKING.”
" Your labor - saving expedients,” remarked
Emeline, "may do well enough with chops and
steaks, and may probably prevent them from being
burned or underdone. But by no substitute for
the gridiron, or by no make-believe method of the
sort you recommend, could a broiled chicken be


OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
131
at the beginning, and let me know every twist
and turn of the process." " Why,” she answered,
with a complaisant smile, " it's the easiest thing in
the world. For my family I take five eggs. I
break them into a bowl, and beat them with a
spoon, lightly, until I can dip up a spoonful. I
beat them only enough to break them up, and
render them manageable. I have ready a little
minced parsley, salt, and pepper. I place my
omelet-pan, which is never used for any other
purpose, with an ounce of sweet butter in it, on
the stove ; and as soon as the butter is hot, – be
careful not to let it brown,- 1 pour the omelet,
rinse the egg from the bowl with three teaspoon-
fuls of sweet milk -- cream is better -- and pour
it over the omelet in the pan. I then sprinkle in
salt, pepper, and minced parsley, and set it to
cook where it will have moderate heat. While
cooking I stir it gently with a fork, and when
almost done, place it for a moment where the heat
is a little quicker, so it may brown lightly on the
bottom. When ready to serve, I slip a knife-
blade under one side, holding the pan slightly
tipped, and fold the omelet over, leaving half the
pan naked, and the omelet in the shape of a turn-
over pie. And now comes the only difficult part
of the operation – that of turning the omelet from
the pan upon the platter. Don't forget to heat
the platter,- a cold omelet isn't fit to eat. Hold


132
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
the pan close to, and partly over it. Give it a
sudden dip — the pan, I mean - and a gentle
flop, and there lies your omelet, just where you
desired,-a neatly shaped, plump little thing,
about three inches thick, moist, light, and, in my
judgment, the best omelet that can be made.”
"I went home happy, intending to surprise
Harry next morning with my ideal omelet - the
dainty dish he had heard me talk about, and sigh
for so often. But, alas, for human expectations !
I made the omelet, and hesitated not until the time
to stir it came. Then a score of perplexing ques-
tions arose. "Stir gently two or three times,"
was what my friend had said. But what is stir-
ring gently? Does to stir gently mean to stir
slowly? And how soon should I begin to stir?
And why stir with a fork? As no one was present
to answer these and the other questions that sug-
gested themselves, I seized a fork and began
stirring slowly, round and round. But the tines
of the fork scratched over the bottom of the spi-
der, and that seemed the only result of my labor.
After waiting awhile, I stirred again. This time
I found the egg adhering to the pan, and stirred
more vigorously, thinking by so doing to accom-
plish the desired object. But when I attempted
to turn the omelet, it stuck fast, and wouldn't
fold; so I worried over and scraped at it, until
all form and comeliness were lost, and it was


134
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
and there at various points and lifting, loosens the
whole mass. The effects produced by stirring and
lifting are very different, and in the manfacture of
an omelet are very apparent.” When a second
layer had cooked, the lifting operation was re-
peated, and so on until the cooked egg filled the
pan, and there was no more to be let underneath.
In this delicate process of lifting lies the whole
secret of the operation. Done in this manner,
the butter is not stirred away from the bottom of
the pan, and enough remains to allow the omelet
to brown nicely, and prevent it from sticking.
Since that memorable day I have never failed in
making an omelet that gave me entire satisfac-
tion.'”
"I had no idea,” interrupted Emeline, " such
mysteries were hidden away in an omelet. Few
of us, I fear, would labor as Mrs. Rose did to dis-
cover them.”
"No," I replied, "the most of us are too lazy
or too careless to do so. We accept the indiffer-
ent food that is placed before us, and grumble at
the cook for selecting such unpalatable dishes ;
but never dream the wretched preparations can be
improved upon. Mrs. Rose is an exceptional
woman, who never rests satisfied with a dish that
she thinks she can in any way improve. Her
omelets, I know, from having seen and tasted
many of them, are unsurpassable. And I am not


OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
135
willing to believe any woman such a natural
stupid as to be capable, after reading the minute
description given in these graphic experiences,
of making a failure of an omelet. Her letter con-
tinues :
"What do you think of this for salad dressing?
I have copied it from a recently published cook-
book by a very popular writer. Here is the dress-
ing for " two full grown chickens and three bunches
of celery": "Two cups boiling water, two table-
spoonfuls of corn-starch wet with cold water, two
tablespoonfuls of oil, one cup of vinegar, two tea-
spoonfuls of made mustard, one great spoonful of
fat, skimmed from the liquor in which the fowls
were boiled, three raw eggs, three hard-boiled
eggs, one teaspoonful powdered sugar, one tea-
spoonful salt, one teaspoonful pepper, and one tea-
spoonful Worcestershire sauce.” I prefer my
salad with a less elaborate dressing. But there is
no accounting for tastes, and there are persons,
perhaps, who would relish such a concoction.
This is the best recipe I know for oil dressing for
chicken or other salad : For three chickens take
the yolks of eight fresh eggs. Put them in an
earthen bowl, and with a silver spoon stir gently
and slowly, round and round. Don't beat them.
Drop in oil, drop by drop at first, then in small
quantities, and very slowly, until in the course of
an hour you have used the whole bottle of oil.


136
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
At last add three tablespoonfuls of vinegar, two
of made mustard, a teaspoonful of salt, and cay-
enne pepper to taste, continuing the stirring
slowly all the while. Prepare the chickens by
boiling whole. Salt the water in which they boil,
very slightly. Cut the chickens when cold into
small bits, half an inch in length, and reject the
skin and fibrous pieces. Cut the celery in pieces
the same size, and have two-thirds as much celery
as chicken. Put the chicken and celery, when
thus prepared, in an earthen bowl, and mix well
with a fork. Add the dressing just before serv-
ing.'”
"I have no doubt Mrs. Rose's recipe for salad
dressing is very nice, and for those who like oil,
unexceptionable. In my cook-book, in connec-
tion with hers, I will give the following recipe :
Take the yolks of eight fresh eggs, and one gill
each of strong cider-vinegar and water. Heat, to
boiling, the vinegar and water, and pour slowly
over the beaten yolks, continuing to beat while
adding the hot liquid. Put the mixture in an.
earthen bowl, and set on the range or stove, in a
pan of boiling water. Let the water boil around
the bowl until the contents are cooked. Stir fre-
quently, and after it begins to thicken, continu-
ously, until done, when remove at once, and con-
tinue the stirring for a minute, while cooling. Do
not cook it enough to curdle it. Add mustard,


OMELET AND DAINTY DISHES.
139
After her departure, I said to Emeline, "I
have a letter here from my old friend Jennie - I
mean Mrs. Douglas — in which she writes : 'Be
not startled if we should surprise you some fine
morning, by dropping in upon you at Maplewood.
How charming it will be to find you in the old
home to welcome us. Don't think of going sooner
than you intended because of our anticipated re-
turn. Gerald joins me in insisting that you and
your friends shall remain, as you proposed, till
autumn. You mention these friends simply as
"Mrs. Richmond and daughter.” Have I ever met
them? The name has a familiar sound; and yet
I can't recall them.""
le How annoying !” said Emeline. "To be
turned out of such comfortable quarters before we
get fairly started at our literary labors, is really
too bad. But, of course, we must go. I couldn't
think of remaining, under all the circumstances.”
Questioning in my mind what mystic meaning
might be hidden in the latter part of her sentence,
I replied: "Don't decide upon anything hastily ;
and say nothing to Alice, at present, about the
matter. Because, as Jennie writes, Gerald's
moods may change, – he is so restless and un-
happy, -- and with them, all their plans. If they
decide positively to come home, she promises to
give ample notice before they sail. I dare say,
however, they'll remain abroad another year.”


140
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE ORCHARD.
We were in the orchard looking for apples to
eat, to bake, and to make into pies; and with
baskets well filled with Sweets, and Codlings, and
Queens, Emeline and I sat under the shade of a
tree, while Alice wandered farther on in search of
fruit that was rosier-cheeked, or more golden, than
any we had gathered.
"Did it ever occur to you, Kate,” said Emeline,
breaking the silence into which we had fallen,
" that there is a universal disposition among all
classes of people to wait on the future, and make
little account of the present? Most of us fail to
enjoy the present, we are so occupied in preparing
for the future. In consequence of this feeling we
store our closets with preserved fruits, which are
in a measure dead fruits, the life, the pure air and
sunshine having been crushed and cooked out of
them in the process of canning and preserving.
When winter comes our cellars are filled with
fragrant, delicious apples ; so full of goodness that
they make the atmosphere, even of a close, damp
cellar, redolent of sweetness. But, in our blind


142
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
generations yet, I hope you will tell them wt
do it according to the best methods. Many per-
sons care little for cooked apples, I thini, for the
simple reason that they are generally cooked so
wretchedly. Sometimes we get them balf-baked,
and at others we have them in a wishy-washy,
watery sauce, so overdosed with sugar and nut-
meg, or other heavy spices, that they nauseate
delicate stomachs."
" Thank you, Emeline. You give me a hint for
my book: Never spice fruits lest you destroy their
flavor. I always detested nutmeg, allspice, and
cinnamon, in apple-pies. I now see the reason.
Rich spices and delicate-flavored fruits form an
unsuitable and inartistic combination. Heavy
spices belong legitimately to heavy sweetness, such
as cake, custard, and pumpkin-pie. But the fine,
delicate flavor of fruits should be preserved as
perfectly as possible ; and for this reason they
should never be cooked in tin, or stirred with a
metal spoon less pure than silver. A wooden
spoon or spatula is the best for the purpose.
"These are the directions I shall give : If it is
desirable to add to the flavor of the fruit you are
cooking, add the flavor of another fruit. For
instance, flavor apples with either pineapple,
strawberry, raspberry, quince, lemon, or orange,
etc. Even the perfume of flowers, like rose-
water, may add to the deliciousness of a dish of


IN THE ORCHARD.
143
fruit. But to bury roses in cake, seems as inap-
propriate and unnatural as to deaden fruit with
spices. In cooking fruits of all sorts, whether for
present or future use, aim to preserve the flavor of
the fruit as far as possible; and to this end, avoid
all contact with tin or base metal, and all needless
exposure to the air. Cook as soon as possible
after the fruit is in proper condition. Cook in
small quantities. Simmer gently, instead of boil-
ing rapidly. The flavor of some fruits is pre-
served better by canning them without sugar.
Peaches and blackberries are finer flavored when
canned without sugar. At the time of opening
and serving, sugar can be added, if desired.
Currants and raspberries, when made into jams
and jellies, should be simmered until nearly
cooked before the sugar is added.
"There is a general impression that sugar is
required for canning fruit. This is a mistake.
The conveniences for canning are so perfect now-
adays that it is not necessary to add sugar to fruit
for the purpose of preserving, but only to render
it palatable. All fruits will keep perfectly well
without sugar, when properly canned. They
should be put up boiling hot, in air-tight glass
cans; and, unless placed in a dark closet, should
be wrapped in thick brown or dark paper, to
exclude the light, which changes the color of
some fruits, and injures the flavor of others.


144
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
Strawberries, and perhaps some other very acid
fruits, are best when sugar is added at the time of
cooking. Emeline, have you ever seen in any
cook-book a recipe for making mushes or jellies
of fruit by the addition of arrowroot, corn-starch,
or wheat flour?”
"No, I never heard of such a thing until you
served us those delicious strawberry, raspberry,
and blackberry mushes, as you called them. And
you have never yet given us the method of pre-
paring them. Will you repeat it for my benefit?”
"To a quart of berries, fresh or canned, add ir
pint of water, and sugar to taste. Boil slightly,
just enough to cook the fruit; and when nearly
done, add corn-starch, arrowroot, or wheat flour,
wet with cold water, to thicken the juice and
form a mush or jelly of the fruit. Serve cold,
with sweet cream.”
"Kate, I never ate a more delicate, delicious
dessert than these fruit mushes, and they alone
ought to render your book popular. What a
charming dish for children and invalids, either
strawberry, raspberry, or blackberry mush must
make! I am surprised I never heard of fruit-
mush before this summer."
" Emeline, I think currant jam very much
nicer than currant jelly. It has a fresher, better
flavor, which I presume is on account of its not
being beaten and bruised, and then squeezed


146
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
Stir, and as soon as perfectly dissolved, and the
jelly has boiled up once, remove and put into
glasses. Cover when cold. It is well to warnı
the sugar while the juice is simmering, as that
hastens the process. When the fruit is gathered
at the right time, and the sugar perfect in quality,
this method will always insure perfect jelly, of a
beautiful color."
"Kate, as your skill is to be tested to-day in
making my favorite among pies, I shall, when we
go into the house, read you what Beecher, in
Eyes and Ears,' says on the subject of apple-pie."
When our pie was placed on the table at dinner,
Emeline got her book and read,
" There is, for example, one made without
under-crust, in a deep plate, and the apples laid
in in full quarters; or the apples, being stewed,
are beaten to a mush and seasoned and put be-
tween the double paste; or they are sliced thin
and cooked entirely within the covers; or they are
put, without seasoning, into their bed, and when
baked, the upper lid is raised and the butter, nut-
meg, cinnamon, and sugar are added, the whole
well mixed, and the crust returned as if nothing
happened. But oh, be careful of the paste! Let
it be not like putty, nor rush to the other extreme,
and make it so flaky that one holds his breath while
eating, for fear of blowing it away. Let it not be


148
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
" Now," remarked Emeline, " let us see if this
is equal to H. W. B.'s ideal pie !”
As she pressed the upper-crust gently with the
pie-knife, the merest drop of candied juice appeared
between its parted lips; and, although she lifted
a piece to another plate with a quick, dexterous
movement, a spoon was needed to dip from the
pie-dish some juice, unavoidably spilled in the
operation. Helping each of us in a similar man-
ner, Emeline ate a minute in silence, and then
said, with a satisfied air,-
"Had brother Beecher eaten one of your pies,
Kate, before he wrote that essay on apple-pie, he
would not for the world have mentioned nutmeg,
allspice, or cinnamon, in connection with apple-
pie. He would have known they were of the
earth earthy, mere 'inconsiderate, vulgar spic-
ing;' good enough, perhaps, for uncultivated or
depraved tastes; but not like this, hinting of
orange-groves and fairer climes,- a combination
of flavors and fragrance unknown to common
mortals, who have never enjoyed such a perfect
pie as the one now before us. Do tell us how this
was fashioned, created, built up into such com-
pleteness ? "
"Then, I suppose you wish to know, in the first
place, how the crust is made ?”
"Certainly. That is the body or flesh of a pie.
The fruit is the heart, soul, and spirit. I wish to


IN THE ORCHARD.
149
know how the crust and the fruit are compounded ;
how dough and apple are metamorphosed into a
perfect apple-pie."
"To make pie-crust, one pound of flour, a
quarter pound of lard, a quarter pound of butter,
a glass of cold water, a cool pantry or room, and
quick movements, are essential. Place half the
flour in a little heap on the moulding-board. Cut
the lard into, and through it, until quite fine.
Add cold water, and stir with the knife. When
wet and quite soft, scrape from the board to one
side. Sift from the other half of the flour upon
the board, till well covered. Lay the dough on
it. Roll it out, but be careful not to get it too
thin. Spread half the butter over it, and then
cover the butter with flour. Fold, and roll out.
Put on the remaining butter, and cover with flour.
Fold, and roll quite thin. Sift flour lightly on it.
Fold, or roll up, and lay it aside. Take a little
more than a fourth of the whole for one crust.
Flour the board and dough, and roll to the size
required. Place upon the tin or dish, shaping to
the same, and cut off around the edge with a sharp
knife. Fill the pie with quarters; or, if the
apples are large, with eighths, of tart apples.
Roll an upper-crust, and lay it over the apples.
Trim it around the edges as before, but do not
pinch the two crusts together. If you wish to
ornament the crust, let the cuts or marks be upon


IN THE ORCHARD.
153
undergo. It is badly baked, and wretchedly
stewed. It is diluted with water, or dosed with
sugar, or doctored with spices, until all the orig-
inal flavor is lost, or spoiled. But, in spite of all
this bad usage, the apple has retained a place in
the culinary department, and is destined, as soon
as we learn how to cook it properly, to grow into
universal favor, and become a prominent article
of diet at every well-ordered table.”
.." Many persons,” observed Emeline, " are of
opinion that only sweet apples are good for bak-
ing. I, however, like a tart apple, when baked,
much better than I do a sweet one. Which do
· you prefer, Kate? And what is your method of
baking apples?”
" I very much prefer sour apples. And this, I
think, is the best way of baking them: Take
large, juicy sour apples. Pare them, and remove
the cores, leaving the apples whole; place them
in a deep earthen dish ; add to them one table-
spoonful of water; put them in a hot oven, and
bake until perfectly soft and tender. A few min-
utes before removing from the oven, sprinkle.
them lightly with white sugar. They will then
brown richly, and have a delicious flavor. Serve
warm, hot, or cold, according to taste. Most
people soon grow so fond of them as to eat them
with their meats and vegetables; and also to take


154
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
them, garnished with sugar and cream, for dessert,
in preference to either pudding or pie.
"To bake apples whole, remove all imperfect
spots or specks; pierce the skins in sundry places
with a fork; place in an earthen pan or dish, and
bake in a hot oven. An apple baked quickly,
with all the heat it can bear, is very different from
one baked in a moderate oven. The former is
spicy and full of spirit, while the latter tastes as
if all life had been worried out of it by slow tor-
ture.
le Apple sauce, as usually made, is scarcely fit
to eat; yet, when properly prepared, it is one of
the most delicious dishes of which I have any
knowledge. Apples should always be stewed in
a porcelain-lined kettle, - never in a vessel made
of tin. Very little water should be added to
them; and they should not be stirred, if possible
to avoid it, while cooking. They should be cov-
ered closely, and cooked quickly; and should be
watched all the time while cooking, lest they burn.
When done, the sugar required should be put into
an earthen bowl, and the apple poured over it,
and covered closely until served. Stewed apple
that is continually stirred while cooking, is not
spicy and high-flavored, like that quickly and
quietly cooked. If desired to flavor apple sauce
with lemon, slice the lemon and put in the dish
with sugar, and pour the hot sauce upon it,


IN THE ORCHARD.
155
Stewed prunes, flavored in the same way with
lemon, I think are much improved. Cooking
lemon damages the flavor. As a usual thing, too
much sugar is used ; so much, in fact, that all
apple flavor is lost in the heavy sweetness. To
preserve the perfect flavor of stewed apples, or
apple sauce, great care is required in the judicious
use of sugar or spices.”
"By the way,” said Emeline, "I have some-
where eaten a pudding made of apples and tap-
ioca, that I thought very nice. Have you ever
made it?"
"Oh, yes,” I replied. "Such a pudding, when
properly made, and served cold, is a very delicate
dessert. I think to serve it warm, however, as it
is often served, is as poor taste as to serve a cus-
tard pudding warm. To make tapioca pudding,
use five measures of cold water to one measure
of tapioca. Let it soak over night, or for several
hours; then cook it until it looks clear and trans-
parent. While the tapioca is cooking, pare and
core some large greenings, or other tart apples.
Leave the apples whole. Place them close to-
gether in a deep earthen dish, and pour the tap-
ioca over them. Bake thoroughly, until the
apples brown over the top. When quite cold,
serve with sugar and sweet cream.
" Another tapioca pudding which is very nice,
is made by soaking half a pint of tapioca over


IN THE ORCHARD.
157
der themselves liable to all manner of diseases by
eating green apples, half-ripe cherries and berries,
and trash generally. .
"In one of her letters to me, Mrs. Rose writes :
* I never put sugar on berries for tea. It spoils
the shape of the berries to let them lie in or under
sugar.' Now, there is no doubt it spoils the shape
cf berries to sugar them ; but, for most persons,
it improves the flavor to sprinkle them with sugar
ten or fifteen minutes before the berries are served.
No one disputes the orthodoxy of Mr. Beecher’s
opinions on gustatory matters, however much they
may differ from him on theological subjects, and
he approves of mashing them even. IIe says:
Put ripe berries in a dish, add a little cold water,
break them down with a spoon to a jelly, adding
just enough sugar and water to make them half
liquid, and you shall find many another dish less
delicious.' This disposition to preserve the shape
of articles of food is quite prevalent among house-
wives; and the taste of many a dish is sacrificed,
in order that it may make a handsome appearance
on the table. Fruits, grains, and vegetables are
too often purposely sent to table half cooked, so
that the shape may not be spoiled. In all such
cases the eye is gratified at the expense of the
stomach. The idea that these articles, when ready
for the table, should present the same form and
appearance as when uncooked, is, in my judgment,


158
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
a very erroneous one. Food of every kind should
be thoroughly cooked — even though in the oper-
ation all form and comeliness be destroyed — as it
is then more palatable and nutritious to healthy
stomachs. There is, however, a vast difference
between thorough cooking and too much cooking.
Food is as effectually spoiled by too much as by
too little cooking; and any one wishing to excel
in culinary science must note carefully the dis-
tinction, and strike the happy medium. If veg-
etables were properly cooked, and fruits properly
prepared for the table, they could scarcely fail to
he always acceptable to the average appetite, and
would soon force themselves into general use. I
may be too enthusiastic; but I look forward hope-
fully to the time when they will be so cooked and
prepared ; and when cartloads of vegetables will
be consumed where an occasional mess is now
deemed sufficient; and when fruits, cooked and
uncooked, will be corsidered as essential to a
meal as bread or meat.”
After dinner Emeline and I were on the veranda,
chatting in an indolent, indifferent way, on various
topics, when Alice appeared with the small gilt-
edged volume, and interrupted us by saying,-
" Mamma, I've brought this 'Memoir of Helen
Douglas,' to read you some extracts. I have
always detested memoirs, and thought them the
stupidest of books, calculated only to bore amia-


IN THE ORCHARD.
159
ble and well-disposed people. But this differs in
that respect from the usual memoir. I have
marked some passages that I think suggestive as
well as beautiful. Shall I read them to you?”
" By all means, if Cousin Kate doesn't object,"
was Emeline's reply.
" Cousin Kate,” I said, ' will be delighted to
bear them.”
Alice then read. -
"To the average mind the idea of immortal life
presents itself simply as a continuation, after
death, of the life we have lived in this world,
extending through eternity ; free, however, from
all the cares and sorrows, all the pains and infirm-
ities, of this mortal existence. But if we retain
our personal consciousness in eternity, will we
not retain also the faculties that were essential to
our development in time? Or will all our emo-
tions, passions, feelings, be sloughed off with our
flesh by death? How will we recognize beyond
the grave those whom we loved so fondly here?
Will my lost Helen meet me years hence the same
gentle being that went from my sorrowing gaze?
Or will she be changed, re-created, formed anew?
How shall I know her
"- in the land that keeps
The disembodied spirits of the dead”?
Or what assurance have I that our love shall not


162
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
terrible blow. I was sometimes saddened by thu
thought of dying and leaving her alone in the
world; but I had never thought of death in con-
nection with Helen. It is ever thus in life. The
evils we apprehend, and most dread, are seldom
the ones that befall us. Fate seems to delight in
taking us by surprise,-in tripping us suddenly
into an unseen abyss.'
" Oh, my lost, loved one! Is there anything
in life that can compensate for the agonies I have
suffered since your frail, inanimate form was car-
ried to the snow-covered graveyard? The world
may be full of beauty, but I neither see nor enjoy
it without you. Why was I permitted to love
you with such an all-absorbing love, that when
you went out of life you took with you all its sun-
shine and fragrance ? Can it be that "He doeth
all things well ?” Though my lips give utterance
to the expression, my heart refuses to acknowl-
edge His goodness. Wherein lies the goodness
of the blow that has so cruelly deprived me of my
earthly treasure ? Does such merciless sorrow as
mine benefit me, or the world? Is it essential to
the happiness of a future life, that this one should
be so full of suffering?'
"To-day I gazed down from the mountain-tops
upon a scene of surpassing loveliness. And I


IN THE ORCHARD.
163
asked, How many men and women within the
whole scope of my vision are capable of enjoying
this glorious prospect ? Not the weary laborers,
who are toiling and sweating in the fields to earn
a bare subsistence; not the wealthy possessors of
all these farms and houses, who are insanely strug-
gling to amass more and more wealth ; vot the aimless
wanderers, with blighted or broken lives, vainly
endeavoring to flee away from their own wretch-
edness. A favored few there may be, perhaps,
who enjoy it in a measure. But even they have
no lease of happiness, and no security for their
enjoyment continuing beyond the passing moment.
Those who are happiest to-day may to-morrow be
overwhelmed with grief as crushing and poignant
as mine. Why, then, do we exist? Or why
were we created? Why are the vast majority of
the earth's inhabitants born only to struggle and
toil, to suffer and weep? Can it be that we are
born for a brief life, filled mostly with unbappi-
ness, or, at the best, with only negative happi-
ness, and that we then drop out of existence for-
ever?'
ee This morning the preacher took for a text, " It
is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living
God.” And his sermon seemed to me like blas-
phemy. Are we not always in God's hands ?
Does he ever let any one drop out of his protect-


166
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
wiped dry, dusted very lightly with pepper, and
freely with flour, and fried until thoroughly done,
and nicely brown, in a small quantity of fat. For
frying nearly everything of this sort, a thick cast-
iron pan or spider is much better than one made
of lighter metal. Equal proportions of lard and
butter I find better for frying than either lard or
butter alone. A small quantity should be first
placed in the pan or spider, and, when hot, the
slices of vegetables should be laid in. When
nicely browned they should be turned, and more
of the butter and lard added. Egg-plant will soak
a great deal of fat, if permitted to do so. I there-
fore put in at first only enough to fry one side ;
and add sparingly, from time to time, as is neces-
sary. It is well to have a cup of this butter and
lard mixture at hand, melted and hot, so that you
can put it in the pan when required. To prevent
the slices soaking fat, some cooks coat them with
egg and bread-crumbs ; but I can't see that any-
thing is gained by the operation, as the coating
absorbs a good deal of grease, which is eaten with
the egg-plant; and when cooked in this way it is
liable to be underdone, as it requires much more
cooking with, than without the coating of crumbs.
I also think it far more palatable without the
crumbs; but as tastes differ, there is no harm in
trying both methods.”
"I am exceedingly fond of egg-plant fried with-


168
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
fried immediately. The skin should be left on, to
prevent the slices from coming to pieces.”
"Kate,” said Emeline, "you certainly excel as
a fryer, - or, fryist, or whatever the proper term
may be. From fried chicken down to fried squash,
all your fries are admirable ; and if your methods
were generally adopted, such a revolution would
take place in that sadly abused mode of preparing
food, that the frying-pan would again come into as
general use as in the days of our grandmothers.
Oysters fried after your recipe I always forget to
praise, in my eagerness to enjoy.”
" And yet, Emeline, I have in several instances
given my exact method of frying oysters to friends,
and when the black, greasy things came upon the
table, although I could not recognize them as the
legitimate result of my method at all, the hostess
invariably insisted that my directions had been
followed to the minutest particular. This is a
somewhat discouraging experience for one contem-
plating writing a cook-book. Nevertheless, I
suppose I shall go on telling people how to cook,
and hopefully look to the future for better results.
"For frying oysters, I like cracker-crumbs
rolled very fine and sifted, so that you have almost
cracker-flour. The oysters should be taken singly,
and well rinsed in their own liquor, or in cold
water, so that no particle of shell shall adhere to
them, and laid upon a sieve or folded napkin, to


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
169
drain. While the oysters are draining, suason the
cracker-crumbs with salt and cayenne pepper.
Mix the seasoning very thoroughly with the
cracker-dust; dip each oyster in well-beaten egg,
and roll it freely in the cracker. Lay it on a
plate, or board, convenient to handle. Prepare
in this way all the oysters before you begin to fry.
A thick dripping-pan or deep griddle answers well
for frying them in. When everything is ready,
place in the pan an ounce or two of lard. The
exact quantity required depends upon the size of
the pan and the number of oysters. When the
lard is boiling hot, add to it an equal quantity of
butter. As soon as the butter is melted and
mixed with the lard, fill the pan with oysters,
laying them close together. Let the heat be
enongh to fry quickly, but not so great as to burn.
When brown on one side, turn the oysters; and
when nicely brown on both sides, lift to a heated
platter, and serve immediately. Fried oysters,
chicken, potatoes, etc., are supposed to be nicer
served on a napkin.
" It is well to let the lard get hot in the pan
before the butter is added, as the butter is not so
likely to scorch as when put in the pan at first.
Place enough of the mixture in the pan before you
begin frying, to fry the oysters on both sides ;
but if a second panful is to be fried, the pan must
be washed, and all the burnt grease removed, or


170
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
the oysters will be badly damaged by it. When
properly cooked, the oyster comes to the table of
a light brown color, thinly coated all over with
crumbs,- not warm, greasy, and leathery, but
hot and juicy, and tasting precisely like - a fried
oyster!
"For scalloped oysters, prepare the crumbs by
drying bread very thoroughly in a cool oven.
Broken pieces and crusts will answer as well as
whole slices, if the bread is of good quality and
the crusts not brown. Several hours will be re-
quired to dry the bread sufficiently; and it will
not be injured if lightly browned in the process.
When dried, roll it very fine, rejecting whatever
will not crush into fine crumbs. Season the
crumbs well with salt, pepper, and butter, rubbing
all between the hands until thoroughly mixed.
Rinse and drain the oysters the same as for frying.
The dish in which scalloped oysters are cooked
should be shallow,- holding not more than three
or four layers of oysters and crumbs. Scatter a
thin layer of crumbs over the bottom of the dish,
and place a layer of oysters upon them. Over
these scatter a thin layer of crumbs, and lay in
more oysters. So fill the dish, covering each
layer of oysters with a layer of crumbs. Over
the top, place the crumbs thickly, so as to form a
coating or crust, which will protect the oysters
from exposure. It requires three-quarters of an


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
173
balls, fried in a quantity of boiling lard, will be
found far superior, for most tastes, to flat cakes
made of the same fish and fried in a small annount
of grease. When nicely brown, the ball should
be lifted from the lard in a wire skimmer, dried
on a napkin, and served hot. When boiled
fish, with drawn butter, has been served for din-
ver, what is left can be made into balls, and the
gravy used instead of butter and milk. Delicious
balls can also be made of fresh fish, either baked
or boiled, and a proportion of light bread soaked
in sweet milk may be used in place of potato.”
"Can't you also suggest,” asked Emeline," some
improvement in hashes and warmed-up meats and
potatoes? They are so often found upon break-
fast-tables, in both city and country, that every
one should be acquainted with the best manner of
preparing them.”
ee All cold fresh meats, when properly hashed
and served, make nice, palatable breakfast-dishes.
In preparing them, great care should be taken to
throw out all gristle, tough skin, and dry, chippy
portions. The meat should then be hashed fine,
and mixed either with hashed potato or bread
crumbed and soaked in sweet milk. Ordinary
hash, made of equal proportions of corned beef
and potato, can be much improved and made
really delicious, by adding bread-crumbs soaked
in milk, or sweet milk or cream without the


174
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
crumbs, and working it well with the hand, then
forming it into rolls, and browning in the oven.
Or, it may be placed in a well-buttered bread-pan
of medium size, and put in a hot oven until it is
brown on the bottom and sides, and perfectly
heated. When ready to serve, turn it from the
pan on a heated platter. Very nice hashed meat-
balls or cakes are made by mixing with hashed
meat, bread crumbed and soaked in sweet milk,
and a fresh egg. Season to taste with salt and
pepper, and sweet herbs, if liked. If the meat is
mostly lean, sweet cream or a little butter must be
added. Make into round cakes, and fry quickly
in a small quantity of hot fat. When brown on
both sides, serve hot. For frying all these meat-
and-potato cakes, the fat fried out of salt pork
is much nicer than fresh lard.
"Scrapple,' made in the following manner, is
both palatable and nutritious. Instead of pork,
which is generally used for making scrapple, take
a piece of beef, or a beef-bone with meat on it,
and boil slowly till very tender. Strain the
liquor into an earthen bowl, and set aside. Sepa-
rate the bone from the meat, and when cold, hash
the meat fine and put it in a kettle with the liquor
and half of the fat that has risen on it. Season
with salt and pepper; and when it boils, thicken
with corn meal. Stir in the meal as in making mush
or hasty pudding. When thick enough, or as


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
17!
thick as mush, pour into a pan to cool; and wher
cold, cut in slices and fry in a skillet, or on a hot
griddle. In cool weather scrapple will keep sev.
eral days, and is a convenient breakfast-dish.
"Hashed potato warmed, I think much nicei
than that which is coarsely sliced. This is my
method of preparing it: Place a small piece of
butter in the kettle or pan to be used for warm-
ing, and when melted, add milk, or thin cream
(which is better), with salt and pepper to taste ;
and lastly, add the hashed potato. Cover closely
and set where it will heat slowly. The milk
should boil up through and over the potato, and
have time to soak into it pretty thoroughly. It
should be stirred very little, and when served no
milk should be visible. Hashed potato warmed
in this manner is very nice with beefsteak, ham,
or cold meat.
" Chicken croquettes are very nice for breakfast,
lunch, or supper. Do you know how they are
made, Kate?” asked Emeline.
" There are more elaborate methods, but this is
very nice : Take a chicken, boiled as for salad, or
cold roast chicken will answer. Chop fine and
place in a stew-pan, with a gill of chicken broth.
Season to taste with salt and pepper. Stir to a
smooth paste an ounce of butter and tablespoon-
ful of flour, which add to the chicken when boil-
ing. Lastly, add the well-beaten yolks of two


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
179
when I said something of the sort to her, she
simply answered, 'Why so, mamma? I've had
very similar thoughts myself. Quite as wicked, I
dare say; but I never could have given them such
beautiful expression.' I confess to you, Kate, I'm
becoming seriously annoyed. I don't like this
hero-worship she is evidently indulging in. Why,
the child is only twenty; and I should prefer to
have her keep clear of love's entangling alliances
until she is twenty-five, at least.”
" True,” I replied, " but you know 'Satan finds
some mischief still for idle hands to do. And
that which is true of hands is equally true of brains
and hearts. If you don't wish Alice to think about
Gerald, and fall in love before her time, give her
something else to think about, and something to
do. Now, if you were to become heartily enlisted
in this school project of mine, who knows but she
might join in the work also, and become so enthu-
siastically interested in it, that love would be put
away from her thoughts forever.”
"No, - not forever, I hope,” said Emeline ;
" that would be too long. But what is this school
project you speak of? Do you seriously contem-
plate taking charge of a school for girls ?”
"Seriously, I do," was my reply. "Hereto-
fore, as you know, I have done a good deal of
talking; hereafter, I propose doing some honest
work. It seems to me of vital importance that


180
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
girls should be thoroughly instructed in the domes-
tic arts. Of these, I consider the culinary
department the most important. But a practical
knowledge of all of them is essential to the comfort
and well-being of a household. Glance over the
homes to which you have free entrance. Look at
the slack, slovenly way in which most of them
are ordered. Housework is considered drudgery
of the meanest sort, and is pushed aside whenever
possible; or, if not, is done in a fretful, com-
plaining spirit. Servants, as a class, are poorly
educated in their department; but the average
servant who professes to do general housework,
is fully up to the capacity of the average mistress.
Where a servant habitually makes poor bread,
serves badly cooked food, or does her work gen-
erally in a sleazy, slipshod manner, you will find
the mistress powerless to correct the evils, be-
cause of her ignorance of the proper methods.
Here, emphatically, 'knowledge is power'; and
Bridget misrules the household, because her igno-
rance is less dense than the ignorance of the
mistress. Now, in this school of mine the girls
are to be taught home duties and domestic work ;
and, at the same time, to be inspired with a love
of them."
"How?” asked Emeline, all attention.
"Insensibly, in a thousand ways," I continued.
* In the first place, the school is to be a home;


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
181
and is to be as charming and attractive as it
can be made. Everything about it will be con-
venient, comfortable, cosy. The housekeeping
department will be administered with great care;
and the girls will see, every day and all the time,
housework properly performed. The table will
be abundantly supplied with the best food, pre-
pared in the most careful manner, after the most
approved methods. In short, my ideas are, that
study, under proper conditions, is conducive to
thorough health ; that the highest mental culture
is productive of the most perfect physical develop-
ment; and that young women, while being qual-
ified for the duties of life, can be developed
mentally and physically, and inspired with a
genuine, abiding love of domestic as well as intel-
lectual pursuits. Emeline, you may consider me
an enthusiast; but I expect to live long enough
to see these theories of mine, if you choose to call
them such, demonstrated as facts at this Home-
School, or home and school combined.”
"But, Kate, after you get through with cook-
ing, I don't see what will remain for your girls to
learn in the housekeeping department. Every
woman of sense knows how to do general house-
work,– to wash and iron, make beds, sweep, etc.”
"No, Emeline; I think very few women know
the best ways of doing any of these things. I
expect to deliver a lecture, at least once a week,


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
183
·more serious annoyance during my life, I think,
than any other one thing. I've been tempted sev-
eral times to write a newspaper article upon the
subject, and call attention to it as a public and
general nuisance, but I have never done so. You
may look upon it as a trifle ; but I assure you I
found it a very serious matter the other night at
a hotel in St. Paul. I had been out tramping all
day, and came in very tired. The evening was
cool; and when I crawled under the blankets at
bedtime, I had no presentiment of coming evil.
But after a sound sleep, I awoke, sweltering in
torments, loaded with blankets. Upon a careful
examination I discovered I had been sleeping
under two heavy blankets in August. I attempted
to turn one away, but found they would not be
separated. Both would go, or both would stay.
It was dark, and I had no matches; so I tugged,
and labored, and toiled; but my efforts to sepa-
rate the blankets were ineffectual. Eventually I
discovered the cause of failure : the stupid cham-
bermaid had put the open ends of the double
blankets at the foot, instead of at the head, of the
bed. I tried in vain to turn and right them.
They were in coils and twists innumerable, and
would not be righted. Finally, I slept, from
sheer exhaustion; and this horrible cold that
annoys me so much, is the result. But that
night I swore a solemn oath, never, so long as I


184
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
live, to go to bed again without having first ex-
amined the bed, to see if the blankets are put on
right.' The lives of most of us are made up of
trifles, that vitality affect our happiness; and the
wretched experience of my travelling acquaint-
ance, the Professor, while showing the results of
a seemingly trivial matter, forcibly illustrates the
importance of knowing how to properly do so
small a thing as put blankets on a bed !”
"Indeed, Kate,” said Emeline, "I think beds
generally, outside of first-class hotels, are an
abomination. People spend about one-third of
their lives in bed ; and what should be a couch of
rest, where sleep comes unbidden, is more often a
sack of torture,-a humpy, bumpy, sliding, roll-
ing, tormenting thing, so badly made up that you
roll and toss, the night through, seeking vainly
either rest or sleep. And the sickening odors of
'spare rooms,' or 'guest-chambers, as they are
termed, where weary visitors are put to spend the
night on such beds ! Bah! they linger in one's
memory for years. You will do a good thing in
your school, if you impress upon your pupils the
necessity of comfortable, well-made beds, and
thoroughly aired spare-rooms and parlors."
" Emeline, our pupils will be taught to live in
their homes—to occupy their parlors and spare-
rooms every day; and to keep them swept and
garnished for themselves, and not for occasional


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
185
guests. Self-respect is one of the first things that
should be developed in a boy or girl. And by
self-respect I mean the high and honorable feeling
that prevents men and women from being mean
and narrow to themselves in their daily home life.
People who have genuine respect and consider:-
tion for themselves, never fail to treat other
people with respect and consideration. To learn
to be just and respectful to our fellow men and
women, we must first learn to be just and respect-
ful to ourselves. I have but little faith in re-
formers who go about endeavoring to reform
society, while they neglect, or are ignorant of,
the duties they owe to themselves and their fami-
lies Think you, women who consider household
work menial and degrading, and whose houses are
nurseries of disorder and ill-training, are likely to
elevate and advance humanity by their efforts ?
The true reformer must begin at home, and work
outward. And until the average home is reformed
and made what it should be, the reformatory move-
ments of our age will mostly end in failure. Hero
among my letters is one from Mrs. Wheaton, a
woman of wealth and culture, who feels that she
was created for something better than to be 'a
household drudge. She asks, 'Can you suggest i
any way whereby the wife and mother can make
home happy and attractive to husband and sons,
without giving her life to the work? — devoting
aughters?


188
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
sibilities—thereby losing all the joys and comforts
- of a home!”
"But this school you speak of,” interrupted
Emeline, "is not to be solely a training-school for
girls in these domestic matters,-is it, Kate?”
" By no means," I answered. "The aim of its
projectors is to make it a model school for girls,
where they may enter at an early age, and con-
tinue as long as they please. I have no expecta-
tion that any of our girls will finish their educa-
tion at school. They will be taught that education
is a life-work; that self-development and self-
restraint are the primary objects of education ;
and that, until they have perfectly developed all
their faculties, and are capable of restraining their
appetites and passions, their education will be
incomplete. Instruction will be given in all the
branches usually taught in a first-class school for
young women, and in many more, as well as in
domestic or household economy. In short, Eme-
line, the object is to establish a home-school
worthy of the name, worthy of the nineteenth
century, and worthy of the women of America."
" Kate, notwithstanding the slur of the 'Demo-
crat, you know I've never had any affiliation with
strong-minded women.' On the contrary, I have
been decidedly opposed to most of their move-
ments; but I like this school project of yours.
It seems to me a great deal better for women to


EDIBLES AND EDUCATION.
189
go to work to correct our social evils in some such
practical way, than to go about clamoring for the
ballot, and scolding men generally for depriving
them of their rights. Have you ever talked with
Alice about it? Perhaps it would strike her
favorably. . And if it should — ”
" Why not go into it heart and soul yourself,
Cousin Emeline ?” I interrupted, eagerly. "Why
not put your life and fortune into it? Believe me,
it would pay a great deal better than writing
novels."
" Pay?" answered Emeline, interrogatively. "I
never thought of making money out of my novels.”
"No, no, Emeline ; you misunderstand me. I
think it will pay better than writing novels, in
other ways than in money. It will pay in some-
thing more enduring than dollars and cents. I
think it will pay in – ”
" But,” interrupted Emeline, " the sun is setting
- how beautiful ! — and Alice will be wondering
what has become of us. Let us go home.”


190
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
CHAPTER XI.
LITTLE THINGS.
" Cousin KATE, are you going to ignore cake
entirely in your cook-book ? ” asked Alice, one
evening at tea, as she passed me the loaf-cake she
had made a week before. "Even you sometimes
indulge in eating cake.”
" Very true, Alice,” I replied; "I enjoy this
bread-cake, for instance; and quite delight in
good ginger-cake at times. But I am so dis-
gusted with the prominence given in cook-books
to cake over bread, and I everywhere see so much
time and attention bestowed upon cake, and so
little upon bread, that I am strongly tempted, in
my cook-book, to treat cake of all kinds with
silent contempt."
"But,” said Emeline, "since people will eat
cake, why not tell them how to make a few varie-
ties that are inexpensive and comparatively harm-
less ? This loaf or bread cake is, to my taste,
better than the average fruit-cake, for it has a
cleaner taste. Yet it doesn't cost quarter as
much as the fruit-cake, and is easier made, isn't
it, Alice ?"


LITTLE THING8.
191
"Yes, mamma, this cake gave me no more
trouble to make than would a loaf of bread.
From the bread, when perfectly light and ready
for the last moulding, I took three cups of dough,
to which I added two cups of white sugar, one
cup of butter, two eggs well beaten, one cup
chopped raisins, one teaspoonful cinnamon, and
half a teaspoonful of soda. As the dough was
very light I pressed it into the cup, measuring it
as full as possible. Placing these ingredients
together in an earthen bowl, I worked them with my
hand for half an hour. The mixture became quite
soft, after being worked awhile. I put it into a
well-buttered baking-dish, lined with white paper,
and, placing it upon the table covered, let it stand
two hours to rise. When light – which was
shown by little bubbles of air dotting its surface,
more than from its having risen - I placed it in a
very moderate oven, not nearly so hot as bread
requires, and every few minutes I opened the
oven door just enough to peep in and see how it
was baking. To my joyful surprise, -- for it being
my first attempt at bread-cake, I scarcely looked
for success, each time I peeped, I found it ris-
ing, rising, rising, slowly, and at last I shut the
door, satisfied that I could leave it to bake un-
watched. It was in the oven an hour and a half,
and you see it came out very nice.”.
" And how well it keeps,” observed Emelino.


LITTLE THINGS.
193
inorning add a handful of flour, and beat them
soundly. When again light, work well with
the hand, adding three ounces of butter and flour
very gradually. The excellence of these buns
consists mainly in their being soft and elastic or
spongy. When the dough is stiff enough to cling
together and work away from the sides of the
bowl, sufficient flour has been added. Work ten
or fifteen minutes longer, cover closely, and leave
to rise. When very light, mould into small round
cakes, and place in a pan, not allowing the cakes
to touch each other. Let them rise in the pan
till light; then bake in a moderate oven. Is that
right, Cousin Kate ?"
You have omitted flavoring and citron,” I
said.
"So I have," answered Alice; "I forgot to men-
tion that at the time of adding the butter, lemon
or other flavoring may be used according to taste ;
and that a slice of citron, placed in each bun at
the time of forming, gives them a nice flavor, and
causes a delightful surprise to the uninitiated
eater. By the way, how will this do for dough-
nuts? Put into a pan three pints of sifted flour.
Make a well in the centre, into which put it half
pound of sugar, a gill of buttermilk or thick sour
milk, two eggs, two ounces of butter, a teaspoon-
ful of soda, and flavoring to taste. With the
hand mix these ingredients well together, work-


194
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
ing in the flour gradually, until the dough is very
smooth. It must not, however, be made stiff.
Roll upon the moulding-board half an inch thick,
cut in form, and fry in boiling lard. When cool,
dust the doughnuts with pulverized sugar. Dough-
nuts made according to this recipe are the nicest
I ever ate.”
"The next time you make buns, Alice, when
the dough is ready to shape, roll it on the mould-
ing-board, cut into doughnuts and fry in boiling
lard; and you will, I think, decidedly give
them the preference over those made according to
your recipe.”
"When the flavoring is omitted, and the dough-
nuts are dusted with pulverized sugar and cinna-
mon, they suit my taste much better,” said
Emeline. "And Kate,” she added, "a good
doughnut isn't a bad thing with a cup of coffee
for breakfast.”
"A doughnut and a cup of coffee,” I answered,
" may be well enough for breakfast, sometimes.
But, in my opinion, a nice roll, or a slice of good
bread, with sweet, rich butter, far outranks dough-
nuts or cake as an accompaniment of coffee.”
Le Cousin Kate,” said Alice, "my one accom-
plishment in the culinary art, before I came under
your instruction, was the making of delicate cake.
I think I was mistress of that. Won't you put
my recipe in your book? I use the largest sized


LITTLE THINGS.
197
,
know, Emeline, it is said that cloves scattered
over any pickle, sweet or sour, will effectually
prevent mould? and, so far as I have tested, I
have found it to be true. If preferred, sweet
peppers may be chopped with the cabbage, instead
of using ground pepper.”
"It occurs to me, Cousin Kate,” said Alice,
" this seems a very loose sort of a recipe for you
to give who are so particular about weights and
measures. You say, 'season to taste.' I think
you should designate the amount of salt and
pepper.”
"Not at all,” I replied. "Spicing and flavoring
are matters of taste. Some like much, others
less; and I think every housewife should use her
own discretion, and decide for herself about such
matters. Besides, Alice, what I desire above all
things is to induce women to think and experi-
ment for themselves in the matter of cooking -- to
seek out many new ways and inventions, so as to
secure improvements upon the old methods. Just
as soon as women become convinced that this
question of how best to prepare the food we eat,
is a momentous one, and that she who excels in
answering it deserves high rank among women,-
and not only among women, but among public
benefactors,- good cooks will abound.”
· "But when will they become convinced ?” asked
Emeline, with a sigh.


198
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
* Not so long, at least," I answered, " as mothers
allow their tables to be furnished with hotly spiced
chow-chow and other such abominations, when it
is so easy, by taking a little trouble, to substitute
this mild tomato sauce: Take twelve ripe toma-
toes; peel and slice them. Chop fine, four sweet
peppers, ripe or green, and two onions. Place all
together in a preserving-kettle, adding two table-
spoonfuls of salt, two of sugar, and a pint of
vinegar. Simmer two hours, or until quite thick;
then bottle for use. Or this green tomato sauce :
Take a peck of green tomatoes and ten onions ;
slice and sprinkle lightly with salt. Let stand
over night. In the morning drain the brine or
water away from it, and put in a preserving-kettle,
with three half gallons of vinegar, three sweet
peppers, chopped fine, a quarter of a pound of
white mustard-seed, and an ounce of cloves. Boil
slowly three or four hours, stirring frequently.
Half an hour before removing from the fire add
one pound of sugar. Or this cucumber catsup,
which is simple and easily made, yet full of pun-
gency: Grate six green cucumbers and three
onions. Add to the grated mixture a teaspoonful
of salt, and half a teaspoonful of pepper. Drain
off the juice, and, after measuring, throw it away,
adding to the catsup the same quantity of vinegar.
Mix well and bottle for use."
." But,” said Emeline, " many people prefer ou.


LITTLE THINGS.
199
cumber pickles, pure and simple, to all mixtures,
and fancy preparations. Do you know the best
method of making them ?”
"Perhaps not. But this is a very excellent
method: Put the freshly gathered cucumbers in
a jar, sprinkle lightly with salt, and when the jar
is full of cucumbers pour on as much boiling
water as it will hold. After the water becomes
cold, remove the cucumbers to a preserving-kettle,
cover with weak vinegar, and heat to boiling point.
Remove, drain, and put in a jar, distributing
among them pieces of sweet pepper. Cover with
strong vinegar, in which a few cloves and a small
quantity of sugar have been heated. If you wish
to improve the color of the pickles, line the kettle,
before placing them in it, with green cabbage or
grape leaves, and put a small piece of alum in the
vinegar.”
"But how many cloves and how much sugar do
you put in them?” asked Alice.
"An ounce of cloves and a pound of sugar to a
gallon of vinegar, is what I should use," I re-
plied ; but that is a matter of taste, and, as I said
before, I prefer, in such cases not to give weights
or measures. I will also add, Alice, that when I
speak of vinegar I always mean good, strong
cider vinegar, and not the weak, watery, insipid
stuff that is often used by housewives, with the
almost certain loss of the pickles on which it is


LITTLE THINGS.
201
" Damsons I treat differently. Selecting large
fair plums, I puncture the skins with a fork, and
lay them in a stone jar. Then I heat to boiling,
four pounds of sugar and a quart of vinegar, with
spice, the same as for peaches. When boiling hot
I pour the liquor upon the plums, cover closely,
and set aside until next morning; then I drain
from the plums all the juice, heat to boiling, and
pour over them as at first. I repeat this every
morning for a week, or until the damsons are soft
and tender. I then put all in the kettle together,
simmer. gently for a few minutes, skim out the
fruit and put it in a jar, simmer the syrup twenty
or thirty minutes, or until it seems rich and suffi-
ciently thick, then pour it over the fruit, and
consider the process of spicing damsons completed.
But here comes Tom with our letters and papers.”
Our trunks were packed and our arrangements
all completed for leaving Maplewood; and as we
sat on the piazza in the September twilight after
tea, listening to the chirpings of the katydids,
Alice observed, --
: "Cousin Kate, I would like to linger on here in-
definitely. I have never passed a pleasanter sum-
mer; and I wish we could stay through October
and November, at least, to watch the autumn
foliage as it brightens and fades.”
"If I had known before making other arrange-


202
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
ments,” replied Emeline, " that Mrs. Douglas had
concluded to remain abroad, I could have been
satisfied to stay several months longer; for the
summer here has been to me very restful. True,
I have not made much progress with my novel ;
but I think my time has been spent to good ad-
vantage. I have looked at life from a different
stand-point than ever before, and begin to feel a
deep interest in everything that concerns our com-
mon humanity. I know I do not realize, as Kate
does, its needs and wants ; but I accept the fact
that no true woman ought to remain idle, or take
to novel-writing merely for amusement, or to kill
time. The great majority of men and women
know so imperfectly how to do the little every-
day duties of life, the aggregate of which makes
up the sum of human happiness, that they go
stumbling and blundering through the world,
hoping that somehow, somewhere in the far-off
future, they will come up with and enjoy the good
time, which through ignorance and laziness they
fail to grasp and make for themselves here."
"Ma,” interrupted Alice, "you accused me of
being unorthodox when I told you that Gerald's
musings were such fancies as I frequently indulged
in myself, and were not 'wild ravings' as you
termed them. It seems to me you are stepping
off the orthodox platform when you condemn
people for hoping and expecting to have a good


LITTLE THINGS.
205
cal advantage. A great portion of life is wasted,
and much vital force consumed, in correcting the
evil results of ignorance, negligence, and forget-
fulness; or in doing labor that could be avoided
by a moderate use of common-sense. Why should
any housewife suffer her fires to go out every few
days in midwinter through carelessness, and thus
endanger the health of some member of the family.
as well as waste the time of some one in rebuilding
ihem? Or, why should she induce dyspepsia, dis-
comfort, and general disgust in the household, by
making bad bread, bad butter, or bad food of any
kind, when she could have the best of everything
by a little care and attention? Or why should
men and women who have homes, permit things
in and about them to get out of order and remain
so for weeks and months, to the almost hourly
annoyance and discomfort of every one in the
family? Go among the homes all over our land,
and in a majority of them you will find the occu-
pants suffering discomfort and inconvenience from
a dozen trifling things that they do not seem to
observe, or are too stupid and inefficient to
remedy. For instance, a door sags on account of
a loose screw in one of its hinges, and causes extra
labor every time it is opened or closed; or, its
ringes squeak for need of a few drops of oil, and
Listurb every one in the house a dozen times a
day; or a window-shutter bangs and flaps for want


206
COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING.
of a fastening, till it eventually tumbles off and is
broken; or a pump gets out of order, and, for want
of a slight repair, has to be labored with every time
a bucket of water is needed. And so I could go
on and on, and mention a thousand similar things
that any one of thought and observation can see
almost daily, and on every one of which extra
labor and strength are wasted, week after week,
and month after month, when a few moments’
thoughtful, intelligent effort would put any one of
them in perfect condition. Yet people endure
such extra labor and discomfort without seeming
to realize that they can avoid them by removing
the cause. · Through all the various departments
of society, the disposition to forget, neglect, over-
look, or remain ignorant how to do minor things,
as they are termed, is so apparent that it is rather
difficult to get a correct idea of what the average
man and woman conceive to be the chief end of
existence. I am old-fashioned enough to think
that people who endeavor to escape the so-called
drudgeries of life, by shirking and neglecting its
ever-present duties and responsibilities, soon be-
come incapable of appreciating and enjoying its
purest delights and satisfactions, and fritter away
their time, vainly searching for a sphere in which
they can labor to the best advantage; or spend it,
avariciously striving to get up 'a corner' on the
fruits of the future, and monopolize the whole


INDEX.
Pago
.
75
.
7
.
.
38
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
96
.
Pago
Yeast, . . . . . 16
Buckwheat cakes, .
Bread, . . . . . Buckwheat cakes, No. 2,
Grabam bread, . .. . 31 Corn dodgers, . .
Rolls, . . . .
32 Corn muffins, . .
Egg rolls, .
Corn griddle-cakes, ..
Cream biscuit, . .
Corn slappers, .
Strawberry shortcake,. . 40 Cape May bread,
Maryland biscuit,
Coffee, .
Picked-up codfish, ..
Black tea, .
Oatmeal mush, . .
Green tea, .
Baked potatoes, . .
Toast, . .
To boil milk, . . 47 | Green pease, .
Fried chicken, .
Asparagus, .
Fried fish, .. .
String beans,
Graham gems, .
Lima beans, .
Fine flour gems, .
Stewed beans, .
Graham cakes, .
Baked beans, .
Hasty pudding, . .
Boston baked beans,
Cracked wheat, · · ·
54 Stewed corn,
Hominy grits, . . .
Corn oysters,
Stewed chicken, . .
Boiled potatoes, . .
Stewed chicken with mush Mashed potatoes, .
rooms,
Fried potatoes, . .
Stewed beef,.
Stewed potatoes, . .
Stewed veal,. . . . Browned potatoes, .
Bread cakes, . . . 70 Soup, . . .
Rice cakes, . .
Broth,. . .
Waffles, . .
Roast lamb, . .
Waffles, No. 2, .
Roast veal, . .
Wafiles, No. 3, . . 72 Roast boot, .
Flannel cakes, . . . 73 Boiled meats,
uffins, . . . 73 | Boiled fowls, . .
97
.
.
.
.
55
.
.
.
101
102
102
.
.
...
102
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.


CLASSIFIED INDEX.
Page
...:::::.....
66
'BREAKFAST 'DISHES.
Page
"Beef, frizzled,. .
Fish, fried, . .
Cakes, bread, . . . 70 Gems, Graham, .
" buckwheat, .
74 16 fine flour, .
" No.2, 75; Grits, hominy, . .
corn, . . . 76' Hash, . . . . 174
flannel, .. .. - 73 Hasty puddigg,,. . .
. hashed meat, . 174 Mush, oatmeal, . . 44
rice, . .. . 71 „Omelet with parsley, ,. 4.131
Chicken, broiled,. . .126 Oysters, corn,. . . 99
" fried, . . Potatoes, baked, .. ..
66 croquettes, 175.
fried, . .
Chops, broiled lamb, · 125 166 . hashed, . . 175
" mutton, 125 «. stewed, . .
" ifried :06 . 124 Scrapple, . . * 174
Oracked wheat, . . 54 Slappers, corn, . 79
Dodgers, corn, . 77 Stew, tomato,. . . 1190
Egg-plant, fried, . . ! 165 Waffles, . . . . . *71
Fish-balls, . . . 172 " No. 2,. . . 72
66 of fresh fish, . '173 6 No. 3, . . . . "72
pie
50
DINNER DISHES.
Page
Page
Asparagus, . . . 96 "Cabbage, boiled, . . 111
Beans, baked,. . . 97 Chicken, plain stewed, 56
« Bostoni baked, . 97 " stewed with
." lima, . . .
mushrooms, . . 57
stewed, . . 97 Dandelions, boiled, . 111
" string,. . . 96 Duck, wild, roasted, . 128
**Beef, boiled with toma Fowls, boiled, . . 109
to sauce, . .'111 * Ham, boiled, . .
" roasted, . . *108 | Lamb, roasted, .
" stowed, . . 57 Onions, . . . . 111
"Broth, · · · · * 107 | Oysters, scallopod,. 170
.
.
.
(205)


216
CLASSIFIED INDEX.
Pease, green, . .
Potatoes, boiled, .
" browned,
o mashed,.
Rice, . . .
" No. 2, . .
Soup, . . .
Pago
. 95
. 100
. 102
.
. 116
. 116
. 104 |
Spinach, . . .
Terrapin, stewed, ;
Tomatoes, fried, .
Turnips, boiled,
ips, boiled, .
Veal, roasted,. .
" stewed, . .
Pama
. 111
. 129
. 167
.
. 108
. 57
RELISHES AND PICKLES.
Page 1
Page
Cabbage, pickled, . . 196 Peaches, spiced, . 200
Catsup, cucumber, 198 Salad dressing, . . 135
Cold slaw, . . . 196 1. " " No. 2, . 136
Damsons, spiced, . . 201 | Tomatoes, pickled green, 198
Mild tomato sauce, 198 |
Coffee, . .
“ No. 2, .
Mush, fruit, .
Pastry, . .
Pies, . .
Pie, apple, .
Pudding, rice,
DE SSERTS.
Page
Page
. . 86 Pudding, steamed fruit, 192
. . 88 “ tapioca, . . 155
. . 144
« No. 2, 155
.
. 149
Shortcake, strawberry, 40
. . Tea, black, . . .
. . 149 " green, . . . 92
. . 113
146
.
Page
194
144
145
78
TEA DISHES.
Page
Apples, . . . . . 141 Doughnuts, No. 2, .
Berries, . . . . 143 Jam, currant,. .
“ serving, .
Jelly, " . .
Biscuit, cream, .
Muffins, corn,. .
“ Maryland, . .
« wheat, .
Bread, Cape May corn, . 80 Oysters, fried,
Buns, . ...
Quail, broiled, .
Cake, delicate, .
Rolls, plain, . .
o loaf, . . .
6 with egg, .
" sponge,. . . Salad, chicken, .
Doughnuts, . . . 193 | Toast, . . .
73
•
. 168
· 127
.......
34
136
93


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