The Project Gutenberg eBook ofA Poetical Cook-BookThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: A Poetical Cook-BookAuthor: Maria J. MossRelease date: May 28, 2008 [eBook #25631]Most recently updated: January 3, 2021Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Julia Miller and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from scans of public domain material produced byMicrosoft for their Live Search Books site.)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A POETICAL COOK-BOOK ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: A Poetical Cook-BookAuthor: Maria J. MossRelease date: May 28, 2008 [eBook #25631]Most recently updated: January 3, 2021Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Julia Miller and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from scans of public domain material produced byMicrosoft for their Live Search Books site.)
Title: A Poetical Cook-Book
Author: Maria J. Moss
Author: Maria J. Moss
Release date: May 28, 2008 [eBook #25631]Most recently updated: January 3, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Julia Miller and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from scans of public domain material produced byMicrosoft for their Live Search Books site.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A POETICAL COOK-BOOK ***
Transcriber’s NoteObvious typographical errors have been corrected. Alistof these changes is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been maintained. Alistof inconsistently spelled and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text.
Transcriber’s Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Alistof these changes is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been maintained. Alistof inconsistently spelled and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text.
Decorative
Wemay live without poetry, music, and art;We may live without conscience and live without heart;We may live without friends; we may live without books;But civilized man cannot live withoutcooks.He may live without books—what is knowledge but grieving?He may live without hope—what is hope but deceiving?He may live without love—what is passion but pining?But where is the man who can live withoutdining?Owen Meredith’s “Lucile.”
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BY
MJM
“I requestyou will prepareTo your own taste the bill of fare;At present, if to judge I’m able,The finest works are of the table.I should prefer the cook just nowTo Rubens or to Gerard Dow.”
PHILADELPHIA:
Colophon
CAXTON PRESS OF C. SHERMAN, SON & CO.1864.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864,BY MARIA J. MOSS,In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for theEastern District of Pennsylvania.
“What’s under this cover?For cookery’s a secret.”—Moore.
When I wrote the following pages, some years back at Oak Lodge, as a pastime, I did not think it would be of service to my fellow-creatures, for our suffering soldiers, the sick, wounded, and needy, who have so nobly fought our country’s cause, to maintain the flag of our great Republic, and to prove among Nations that a Free Republic is not a myth. With these few words I dedicate this book to theSanitary Fairto be held in Philadelphia, June, 1864.
March, 1864.
Throughtomes of fable and of dreamI sought an eligible theme;But none I found, or found them sharedAlready by some happier bard,Till settling on the current yearI found the far-sought treasure near.A theme for poetry, you see—A theme t’ ennoble even me,In memorable forty-three.Oh, Dick! you may talk of your writing and reading,Your logic and Greek, but there is nothing like feeding.Moore.
Upon singing and cookery, Bobby, of course,Standing up for the latter Fine Art in full force.Moore.
Are these thechoice dishesthe Doctor has sent us?Heaven sends us good meats, but the Devil sends cooks.That my life, like the German, may be“Du lit a la table, de la table au lit.”—Moore.
Thoughcooks are often men of pregnant wit,Through niceness of their subject few have writ.’Tis a sage question, if the art of cooksIs lodg’d by nature or attain’d by books?That man will never frame a noble treat,Whose whole dependence lies in somereceipt.Then by pure nature everything is spoil’d,—She knows no more than stew’d, bak’d, roast, and boil’d.When art and nature join, the effect will be,Some niceragout, orcharming fricasee.What earth and waters breed, or air inspires,Man for his palate fits by torturing fires.But, though my edge be not too nicely set,Yet I another’s appetite may whet;May teach him when to buy, when season’s pass’d,What’s stale, what choice, what plentiful, what waste,And lead him through the various maze of taste.The fundamental principle of allIs what ingenious cooks therelishcall;For when the market sends in loads of food,They all are tasteless tillthatmakes them good.Besides, ’tis no ignoble piece of care,To know for whom it is you would prepare.You’d please a friend, or reconcile a brother,A testy father, or a haughty mother;Would mollify a judge, would cram a squire,Or else some smiles from court you would desire;Or would, perhaps, some hasty supper give,To show the splendid state in which you live.Pursuant to that interest you propose,Must all your wines and all your meat be chose.Tables should be like pictures to the sight,Some dishes cast in shade, some spread in light;Some at a distance brighten, some near hand,Where ease may all their delicace command;Some should be moved when broken, others lastThrough the whole treat, incentive to the taste.Locket, by many labors feeble grown,Up from the kitchen call’d his eldest son;Though wise thyself (says he), though taught by me,Yet fix this sentence in thy memory:There are some certain things that don’t excel,And yet we say are tolerably well.There’s many worthy men a lawyer prize,Whom they distinguish as of middle size,For pleading well at bar or turning books;But this is not, my son, the fate of cooks,From whose mysterious art true pleasure springs,To stall of garters, and to throne of kings.A simple scene, a disobliging song,Which no way to the main design belong,Or were they absent never would be miss’d,Have made a well-wrought comedy be hiss’d;So in a feast, no intermediate faultWill be allow’d; but if not best, ’tis nought.If you, perhaps, would try some dish unknown,Which more peculiarly you’d make your own,Like ancient sailors, still regard the coast,—By venturing out too far you may be lost.By roasting that which your forefathers boil’d,And broiling what they roasted, much is spoil’d.That cook to American palates is complete,Whose savory hand gives turn to common meat.Far from your parlor have your kitchen placed,Dainties may in their working be disgraced.In private draw your poultry, clean your tripe,And from your eels their slimy substance wipe.Let cruel offices be done by night,For they who like the thing abhor the sight.’Tis by his cleanliness a cook must please;A kitchen will admit of no disease.Were Horace, that great master, now alive,A feast with wit and judgment he’d contrive,As thus: Supposing that you would rehearseA labor’d work, and every dish a verse,He’d say, “Mend this and t’other line and this.”If after trial it were still amiss,He’d bid you give it a new turn of face,Or set some dish more curious in its place.If you persist, he would not strive to moveA passion so delightful as self-love.Cooks garnish out some tables, some they fill,Or in a prudent mixture show their skill.Clog not your constant meals; for dishes fewIncrease the appetite when choice and new.E’en they who will extravagance profess,Have still an inward hatred for excess.Meat forced too much, untouch’d at table lies;Few care for carving trifles in disguise,Or that fantastic dish some callsurprise.When pleasures to the eye and palate meet,That cook has render’d his great work complete;His glory far, likesirloin knighthoodxi-1fliesImmortal made, asKit-catby his pies.Next, let discretion moderate your cost,And when you treat, three courses be the most.Let never fresh machines your pastry try,Unless grandees or magistrates are by,Then you may puta dwarf into a pie.xi-2Crowd not your table; let your number beNot more than seven, and never less than three.’Tis thedessertthat graces all the feast,For an ill end disparages the rest.A thousand things well done, and one forgot,Defaces obligation by that blot.Make your transparent sweetmeats truly niceWith Indian sugar and Arabian spice.And let your various creams encircled beWith swelling fruit just ravish’d from the tree.The feast now done, discourses are renewed,And witty arguments with mirth pursued;The cheerful master, ’midst his jovial friends,His glass to their best wishes recommends.The grace cup follows: To the President’s healthAnd to the country; Plenty, Peace, and Wealth!Performing, then, the piety of grace,Each man that pleases reassumes his place;While at his gate, from such abundant store,He showers his godlike blessings on the poor.
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xi-1Charles I, dining one day off of a loin of beef, was so much pleased with it, knighted it.xi-2In the reign of Charles I, Jeffry Hudson (then seven or eight years old, and but eighteen inches in height) was served up to table in a cold pie at the Duke of Buckingham’s, and as soon as he made his appearance was presented to the Queen.
xi-1Charles I, dining one day off of a loin of beef, was so much pleased with it, knighted it.
xi-2In the reign of Charles I, Jeffry Hudson (then seven or eight years old, and but eighteen inches in height) was served up to table in a cold pie at the Duke of Buckingham’s, and as soon as he made his appearance was presented to the Queen.
“Despise not my good counsel.”
The mistress of a family should always remember that the welfare and good management of the house depend on the eye of the superior, and, consequently, that nothing is too trifling for her notice, whereby waste may be avoided.
Many families have owed their prosperity full as much to the conduct and propriety of female arrangement, as to the knowledge and activity of the father.
All things likely to be wanted should be in readiness,—sugars of different qualities should be broken; currants washed, picked and dry in a jar; spice pounded, &c. Every article should be kept in that place best suited to it, as much waste may thereby be avoided. Vegetableswill keep best on a stone floor if the air be excluded. Dried meats, hams, &c., the same. All sorts of seeds for puddings, rice, &c., should be close-covered, to preserve from insects. Flour should be kept in a cool, perfectly dry room, and the bag being tied should be changed upside down and back every week, and well shaken. Carrots, parsnips, and beet-roots should be kept in sand for winter use, and neither they nor potatoes be cleared from the earth. Store onions preserve best hung up in a dry room. Straw to lay apples on should be quite dry, to prevent a musty taste. Tarragon gives the flavor of French cookery, and in high gravies should be added only a short time before serving.
Basil, savory, and knotted marjoram, or London thyme, to be used when herbs are ordered; but with discretion, as they are very pungent.
Celery seeds give the flavor of the plant to soups. Parsley should be cut close to the stalks, and dried on tins in a very cool oven; it preserves its flavor and color, and is very useful in winter. Artichoke bottoms, which have been slowly dried, should be kept in paper bags, and truffles, lemon-peel, &c., in a very dry place, ticketed.
Pickles and sweetmeats should be preserved from air: where the former are much used, small jars of each should be taken from the stock-jar, to prevent frequent opening.
Some of the lemons and oranges used for juice shouldbe pared first, to preserve the peel dry; some should be halved, and, when squeezed, the pulp cut out, and the outsides dried for grating.
If for boiling any liquid, the first way is best. When whites of eggs are used for jelly, or other purposes, contrive to have pudding, custards, &c., to employ the yolks also.
Gravies or soups put by, should be daily changed into fresh scalded pans.
If chocolate, coffee, jelly, gruel, bark, &c., be suffered to boil over, the strength is lost.
The cook should be charged to take care of jelly bags, tapes for the collared things, &c., which, if not perfectly scalded and kept dry, give an unpleasant flavor when next used.
Hard water spoils the color of vegetables; a pinch of pearlash or salt of wormwood will prevent that effect.
When sirloins of beef, loins of veal or mutton come in, part of the suet may be cut off for puddings, or to clarify; dripping will baste everything as well as butter, fowls and game excepted; and for kitchen pies nothing else should be used.
Meat and vegetables that the frost has touched should be soaked in cold water two or three hours before they are used, or more if much iced; when put into hot water,or to the fire until thawed, no heat will dress them properly.
Meat should be well examined when it comes in, in warm weather. In the height of the summer it is a very safe way to let meat that is to be salted lie an hour in cold water; then wipe it perfectly dry, and have ready salt, and rub it thoroughly into every part, leaving a handful over it besides. Turn it every day and rub the pickle in, which will make it ready for the table in three or four days; if it is desired to be very much corned, wrap it in a well-floured cloth, having rubbed it previously with salt. The latter method will corn fresh beef fit for table the day it comes in; but it must be put into the pot when the water boils.
If the weather permits, meat eats much better for hanging two or three days before it be salted.
The water in which meat has been boiled makes an excellent soup for the poor, when vegetables, oatmeal, or peas are added, and should not be cleared from the fat. Roast beef bones, or shank bones of ham, make fine peas soup, and should be boiled with the peas the day before eaten, that the fat may be removed. The mistress of the house will find many great advantages in visiting her larder daily before she orders the bill of fare; she will see what things require dressing, and thereby guard against their being spoiled. Many articles may be redressed in a different form from that in which they are first served, an improve the appearance of the table without increasing the expense.
In every sort of provisions, the best of the kind goes farthest; cutting out most advantageously, and affording most nourishment.
Round of beef, fillet of veal, and leg of mutton, bear a higher price; but having more solid meat, deserve the preference. It is worth notice, however, that those joints which are inferior may be dressed as palatably, and being cheaper ought to be bought in turn; and when weighed with the prime pieces, the price of the latter is reduced.
In loins of meat, the long pipe which runs by the bone should be taken out, being apt to taint, as likewise the kernels of beef.
Rumps and aitch bones of beef are often bruised by the blows the drovers give, and that part always taints: avoid purchasing such.
The shank bones of mutton should be saved, and after soaking and bruising may be added to give richness to gravies and soups, and they are particularly nourishing for the sick.
Calves’ tongues, salted, make a more useful dish than when dressed with the brains, which may be served without.
Some people like neats’ tongues cured with the root, in which case they look much larger; but should the contrary be approved, the root must be cut off close to the gullet, next to the tongue, but without taking away the fat under the tongue. The root must be soaked in salt and water, and extremely well cleaned before it be dressed; and the tongue laid in salt for a night and day before pickled.
Great attention is requisite in salting meat, and in the country, where great quantities are cured, it is of still more importance. Beef and pork should be well sprinkled, and a few hours after hung to drain, before it be rubbed with the preserving salts; which mode, by cleansing the meat from the blood, tends to keep it from tasting strong; it should be turned daily, and, if wanted soon, rubbed. A salting tub may be used, and a cover should fit close. Those who use a good deal of salt will find it well to boil up the pickle, skim, and when cold pour it over meat that has been sprinkled and drained. In some families great loss is sustained by the spoiling of meat. If meat is brought from a distance in warm weather, the butcher should be charged to cover it close, and bring it early in the morning.
Mutton will keep long, by washing with vinegar the broad end of the leg; if any damp appears, wipe it immediately. If rubbed with salt lightly, it will not eatthe worse. Game is brought in when not likely to keep a day, in the cook’s apprehension, yet may be preserved two or three days if wanted, by the following method:
If birds (woodcocks and snipes excepted, which must not be drawn), draw them, pick and take out the crop, wash them in two or three waters, and rub them with a little salt. Have ready a large saucepan of boiling water, put the birds in it, and let them remain five minutes, moving it, that it may go through them. When all are finished, hang them by the heads in a cold place; when drained, pepper the inside and necks; when to be roasted, wash, to take off the pepper. The most delicate birds, even grouse, may be kept this way, if not putrid.
Birds that live by suction, &c., bear being high: it is probable that the heat might cause them to taint more, as a free passage for the scalding water could not be obtained.
Fresh-water fish has often a muddy taste, to take off which, soak it in strong salt and water; or, if of a size to bear it, give it a scald in the same, after extremely good cleaning and washing.
In the following, and indeed all other receipts, though the quantities may be as accurately set down as possible, yet much must be left to the discretion of the persons who use them.
The different taste of people requires more or less of the flavor of spices, garlic, butter, &c., which can never be directed by general rules, and if the cook has not a good taste, and attention to that of her employers, not all the ingredients with which nature or art can furnish her will give an exquisite relish to her dishes.
The proper articles should be at hand, and she must proportion them until the true zest be obtained.
March, 1864.
Decorative
Sons of Apicius! say, can Europe’s seas,Can aught the edible creation yieldCompare withturtle, boast of land and wave?Grainger.
And, zounds! who would grudgeTurtle soup, though it came to five guineas the bowl?Moore.
The day before you dress a turtle, chop the herbs, and make the forcemeat; then, on the preceding evening, suspend the turtle by the two hind fins with a cord, and put one round the neck with a heavy weight attached to it to draw out the neck, that the head may be cut off with more ease; let the turtle hang all night, in which time the blood will be well drained from the body. Then, early in the morning, having your stoves and plenty of hot water in readiness, take the turtle, lay it on the table on its back, and with astrong pointed knife cut round the under shell (which is the callipee),—there are joints at each end, which must be carefully found,—gently separating it from the callipash (which is the upper shell); be careful that in cutting out the gut you do not break the gall. When the callipee and the callipash are perfectly separated, take out that part of the gut that leads from the throat; that with the hearts put into a basin of water by themselves, the other interior part put away. Take the callipee, and cut off the meat which adheres to it in four quarters, laying it on a clean dish. Take twenty pounds of veal, chop it up, and set it in a large pot, as directed for espagnoles, putting in the flesh of the turtle at the same time, with all kinds of turtle herbs, carrots, onions, one pound and a half of lean ham, peppercorns, salt, and a little spice, and two bay leaves, leaving it to stew till it take the color of espagnole; put the fins—the skin scalded off—and hearts in, half an hour before you fill it, with half water, and half beef stock, then carefully skim it; put in a bunch of parsley, and let it boil gently like consommé. While the turtle is stewing, carefully scald the head, the callipee, and all that is soft of the callipash, attentively observing to take off the smallest skin that may remain; put them with the gut into a large pot of water to boil till tender; when so, take them outand cut them in squares, putting them in a basin by themselves till wanted for the soup. The next thing is the thickening of the soup, which must be prepared in the same manner as sauce tournée. The turtle being well done, take out the fins and hearts, and lay them on a dish; the whole of the liquor must pass through a sieve into a large pan; then with a ladle take off all the fat, put it into a basin, then mix in the turtle liquor (a small quantity at a time), with the thickening made the same as tournée; but it does not require to, neither must it, be one-twentieth part as thick. Set it over a brisk fire, and continue stirring till it boils. When it has boiled gently for one hour put in the callipee and callipash with the guts, hearts, and some of the best of the meat and head, all cut in squares, with the forcemeat balls and herbs, which you should have ready chopped and stewed in espagnole; the herbs and parsley, lemon, thyme, marjoram, basil, savory, and a few chopped mushrooms.
It must be carefully attended to and skimmed, and one hour and a half before dinner put in a bottle of Madeira wine, and nearly half a bottle of brandy, keeping it continually boiling gently, and skimming it, then take a basin, put a little cayenne into it, with the juice of six lemons squeezed through a sieve. When the dinner iswanted, skim the turtle, stir it well up, and put a little salt, if necessary; then stir the cayenne and lemon juice in, and ladle it into the tureen. This receipt will answer for a turtle between fifty and sixty pounds.
Thechicken brothwas brought at nine;He then arose to ham and wine,And, with a philosophic air,Decided on the bill of fare.
Take the remaining parts of a chicken from which panada has been made, all but the rump; skin, and put them into the water it was first boiled in, with the addition of a little mace, onion, and a few pepper-corns, and simmer it. When of a good flavor, put to it a quarter of an ounce of sweet almond beaten with a spoonful of water; boil it a little while, and when cold take off the fat.
His soup scientific,—hisfishesquite prime;His patés superb, and his cutlets sublime.Moore.
Let your fish be cleaned and salted; save your melts or kows. Cut three onions and parsley root, boil them in a pint of water; cut your fish in pieces to suit; take some clever sized pieces, cut them from the bone, chop them fine, mix with them the melts, crumbs of bread, a little ginger, one egg well beaten, leeks, green parsley, all made fine; take some bread, and make them in small balls; lay your fish in your stewpan, layer of fish and layer of onions; sprinkle with ginger, pour cold water over to cover your fish; let it boil till done, then lay your fish nicely on a dish. To make the sauce, take the juice of a large lemon and yolk of an egg, well beaten together, teaspoonful of flour; mix it gradually with half a pint of the water the fish was done in, then with all your water put in your balls; let it boil very quick; when done throw the balls and gravy over your fish.
Behold, the dishes due appear!Fishin the van, beef in the rear.Ah! all the luxury of fish,With scalding sauce.
Boil six onions in water till tender, strain, and cut them in slices. Put your fish, cut in slices, in a stewpan with a quart of water, salt, pepper, ginger and mace to suit taste; let it boil fifteen minutes; add the onions, and forcemeat balls made of chopped fish, grated bread, chopped onion, parsley, marjoram, mace, pepper, ginger and salt, and five eggs beat up with a spoon into balls, and drop them into the pan of fish when boiling; cover close for ten minutes, take it off the fire, and then add six eggs with the juice of five lemons; stir the gravy very slowly, add chopped parsley, and let it all simmer on a slow fire, keeping the pan in motion until it just boils, when it must be taken off quickly, or the sauce will break. A little butter or sweet oil added to the balls is an improvement. If you meet with good success in the cooking of this receipt, you will often have stewed fish.
Here haddock, hake, and flounders are,And eels, andperch, and cod.Green.
Having scalded and taken out the gills, put the perch into a stew-pan, with equal quantities of stock and white wine, a bay leaf, a clove of garlic, a bunch of parsley, and scallions, two cloves, and some salt.
When done, take out the fish, strain off the liquor, the dregs of which mix with some butter and a little flour; beat these up, set them on the fire, stewing till quite done, adding pepper, grated nutmeg, and a ball of anchovy butter. Drain the perch well, and dish them with the above sauce.
Here stay thy haste,And with thesavory fishindulge thy taste.Gay.
Have your fish cleaned, the melts or kows being taken out whole; salt your fish, and let it lay half an hour. Cut your onions in slices, fry them with parsley-root, cut in long thin slices, in half a teacup of sweet oil, till they become a fine brown. Wash and dry your fish, cut it in pieces, put it in your stewpan, layer of fish and layer of browned onion, &c. Take a quart of beer, half a pint of vinegar, quarter pound of sugar, two tablespoonfuls powdered ginger, mixed well together, pour over your fish till covered. When putting your fish in the pan, split the head in two, and place it at the bottom, the smaller pieces on the top, the rows uppermost; let them cook very quick. Take out your fish, lay it nicely on a dish, mix a little flour in your gravy, give it a boil, throw it over the fish, and let it stand to cool.
Your betters will despise you, if they seeThings that are far surpassing your degree;Therefore beyond your substance never treat;’Tis plenty, in small fortune, to be neat;A widow has cold pie, nurse gives you cake,From generous merchants ham orsturgeontake.King.
Take a large piece of sturgeon, or a whole small one, clean and skin it properly, lard it with eel and anchovies, and marinade it in a white wine marmalade. Fasten it to the spit and roast it,basting frequently with the marinade strained. Let the fish be a nice color, and serve with a pepper sauce.
Red speckled trouts, thesalmon’ssilver jole,The jointed lobster and unscaly sole,And luscious scallops to allure the tastesOf rigid zealots to delicious feasts;Wednesdays and Fridays, you’ll observe from hence,Days when our sins were doomed to abstinence.Gay.
Put on a fish-kettle, with spring water enough to well cover the salmon you are going to dress, or the salmon will neither look nor taste well (boil the liver in a separate saucepan). When the water boils put in a handful of salt, take off the scum as soon as it rises; have the fish well washed, put it in, and if it is thick, let it boil very gently. Salmon requires as much boiling as meat; about a quarter of an hour to a pound of meat; but practice can only perfect the cook in dressing salmon.
A quarter of a salmon will take as long boiling as half a one. You must consider the thickness, not the weight.
Obs.The thinnest part of the fish is the fattest, and if you have a “grand gourmand” at table, ask him if he is for thick or thin.
Lobster sauce and rye bread should be eaten with boiled salmon.
But soon, likelobster boil’d, the mornFrom black to red began to turn.Butler.
Those of the middle size are best. The male lobster is preferred to eat, and the female to make sauce of. Set on a pot with water, salted in proportion of a tablespoonful of salt to a quart of water. When the water boils, put it in, and keep it boiling briskly from half an hour to an hour, according to its size; wipe all the scum off it, and rub the shell with a little butter or sweet oil, break off the great claws, crack them carefully in each joint, so that they may not be shattered, and yet come to pieces easily, cut the tail down the middle, and send the body whole.
The man had sure a palate cover’d o’erWith brass or steel, that on the rocky shoreFirst broke the oozyoyster’spearly coat,And risk’d the living morsel down his throat.Gay.
Common people are indifferent about the manner of opening oysters, and the time of eating them, after they are opened. Nothing, however, is more important in the enlightened eyes of the experienced oyster-eater. Those who wish to enjoy this delicious restorative in its utmost perfection must eat it the moment it is opened, with its own gravy in the under shell. If not eaten while absolutely alive, its flavor and spirit are lost.
You shapeless nothing, in a dish!You, that are but almost a fish!Cowper.
The largest and finest oysters should be chosen for frying. Simmer them in their own liquor for a couple of minutes; take them out, and lay them on a cloth to drain; beard them, and then flour them, egg and breadcrumb them, put them into boiling fat, and fry them a delicate brown.
A much better way is to beat the yolks of eggs, and mix with the grated bread, a small quantity of beaten nutmeg and mace, and a little salt. Having stirred this batter well, dip your oysters into it, and fry them in lard, till they are a light brown color. Take care not to do them too much. Serve them up hot. For grated bread, some substitute crackers pounded to a powder, and mixed with yolk of egg and spice.
By nerves about our palate placed,She likewise judges of the taste.Who would ask for her opinionBetween anoysterand an onion?Donne.
Stew with a quart of oysters, and their liquor strained, a glass of white wine, one anchovy bruised, seasoned with white pepper, salt, a little mace, and a bunch of sweet herbs; let all stew gently an hour, or three quarters. Pick out the bunch of herbs, and add a quarter pound of fresh butter kneaded in a large tablespoonful of flour, and stew them ten or twelve minutes.
Serve them garnished with bread sippets and cut lemon. They may be stewed simply in theirown liquor, seasoned with salt, pepper, and grated nutmeg, and thickened with cream, flour, and butter.
’Tis no one thing; it is not fruit, nor root,Nor poorly limited with head or foot.Donne.
Cut off the tops of some small French rolls, take out the crumb, fry them brown and crisp with clarified butter, then fry some breadcrumbs; stew the requisite quantity of oysters, bearded and cut in two, in their liquor, with a little white wine, some gravy, and seasoned with grated lemon-peel, powdered mace, pepper and salt; add a bit of butter, fill the rolls with oysters, and serve them with the fried breadcrumbs in a dish.
What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,Are daily ransack’d for the bills of fare.Gay.
Stew the oysters slowly in their own liquor for two or three minutes, take them out with a spoon, beard them, and skim the liquor, put a bit of butter into a stewpan; when it is melted, add as much fine breadcrumbs as will dry it up; then put to it the oyster liquor, and give it a boil up; put the oysters into scallop shells that you have buttered, and strewed with breadcrumbs, then a layer of oysters, then breadcrumbs, and then again oysters; moisten it with the oyster liquor, cover them with breadcrumbs, put about half a dozen little bits of butter on the top of each, and brown them in a Dutch oven.
Essence of anchovy, ketchup, cayenne, grated lemon-peel, mace, and other spices are added by those who prefer piquance to the genuine flavor of the oyster.
Thanks, my lord, for yourvenison; for finer or fatterNever ranged in a forest or smoked in a platter.The haunch was a picture for painters to study,The fat was so white, and the lean was so ruddy.Goldsmith.
The haunch of buck will take about three hours and three quarters roasting. Put a coarse paste of brown flour and water, and a paper over that, to cover all the fat; baste it well with dripping, and keep it at a distance, to get hot at the bones by degrees. When near done, remove the covering, and baste it with butter, and froth it up before you serve. Gravy for it should be put in a boat, and not in the dish (unless there be none in the venison), and made thus: cut off the fat from two or three pounds of a loin of old mutton, and set it in steaks on a gridiron for a few minutes, just to brown one side; put them in a saucepan with a quart of water, cover quite close for an hour, and gently simmer it; then uncover, and stew till the gravy be reduced to a pint. Season only with salt.
And now that I think on’t, as I am a sinner!We wanted this venison to make out the dinner.What say you? apasty! it shall and it must,And my wife, little Kitty, is famous for crust.“What the de’il, mon, a pasty!” re-echoed the Scot.“Though splitting, I’ll still keep a corner for that.”“We’ll all keep a corner,” the lady cried out;“We will all keep a corner!” was echoed about.Goldsmith.
Cut a neck or breast into small steaks, rub them over with a seasoning of sweet herbs, grated nutmeg, pepper and salt; fry them slightly in butter. Line the sides and edges of a dish with puff paste, lay in the steaks, and add half a pint of rich gravy, made with the trimmings of the venison; add a glass of port wine, and the juice of half a lemon or teaspoonful of vinegar; cover the dish with puff paste, and bake it nearly two hours; some more gravy may be poured into the pie before serving it.
And aye a rowth, aroast beefand claret:Syne wha wad starve!Burns.
The noble sirloin of about fifteen pounds will require to be before the fire about three and a halfto four hours; take care to spit it evenly, that it may not be heavier on one side than on the other; put a little clean dripping into the dripping-pan (tie a sheet of paper over to preserve the fat); baste it well as soon as it is put down, and every quarter of an hour all the time it is roasting, till the last half hour; then take off the paper and make some gravy for it. Stir the fire, and make it clear; to brown and froth it, sprinkle a little salt over it, baste it with butter, and dredge it with flour; let it go a few minutes longer till the froth rises, take it up, put it on the dish, and serve it.
In short, dear, “a Dandy” describes what I mean,And Bob’s far the best of the gems I have seen,But just knows the names of French dishes and cooks,As dear Pa knows the titles and authors of books;Whose names, think how quick! he already knows pat,A la braise, petit patés, and—what d’ye call thatThey inflict on potatoes? Oh! maître d’hotel.I assure you, dear Dolly, he knows them as wellAs if nothing but these all his life he had eat,Though a bit of them Bobby has never touched yet.I can scarce tell the difference, at least as to phrase,Betweenbeef à la Psychéandcurls à la braise.Moore.
Bone a rump of beef, lard it very thickly with salt pork seasoned with pepper, salt, cloves, mace,and allspice, and season the beef with pepper and salt; put some slices of bacon into the bottom of the pan, with some whole black pepper, a little allspice, one or two bay leaves, two onions, a clove of garlic, and a bunch of sweet herbs. Put in the beef, and lay over it some slices of bacon, two quarts of weak stock, and half a pint of white wine. Cover it closely, and let it stew between six and seven hours. Sauce for the beef is made of part of the liquor it has been stewed in, strained, and thickened with a little flour and butter, adding some green onions cut small, and pickled mushrooms. Pour it over the beef.
The funeralbak’d meatsDid coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.Shakspeare.
Boil some potatoes, peel, and pound them in a mortar with two small onions; moisten them with milk and an egg beaten up, add a little salt and pepper. Season slices of beef or mutton-chops with salt and pepper, and more onion, if the flavor is approved. Rub the bottom of a pudding-dish with butter, and put a layer of the mashed potatoes, which should be as thick as a batter, and thena layer of meat, and so on alternately till the dish is filled, ending with potatoes. Bake it in an oven for an hour.
Is there, then, that o’er hisFrench ragout,Looks down wi’ sneering, scornful view,On sic a dinner?Burns.
Take a rump of beef, cut the meat from the bone, flour and fry it, pour over it a little boiling water, about a pint of small-beer, add a carrot or two, an onion stuck with cloves, some whole pepper, salt, a piece of lemon-peel, a bunch of sweet herbs; let it stew an hour, then add some good gravy; when the meat is tender take it out and strain the sauce; thicken it with a little flour; add a little celery ready boiled, a little ketchup, put in the meat; just simmer it up.
Or one’skidney,—imagine, Dick,—done with champagne.Moore.
Having soaked a fresh kidney in cold water and dried it in a cloth, cut it into mouthfuls, and then mince it fine; dust it with flour. Put some butterinto a stewpan over a moderate fire, and when it boils put in the minced kidneys. When you have browned it in the butter, sprinkle on a little salt and cayenne, and pour in a very little boiling water. Add a glass of champagne, or other wine, or a large teaspoonful of mushroom ketchup or walnut pickle; cover the pan closely, and let it stew till the kidney is tender. Send it to table hot, in a covered dish. It is eaten generally at breakfast.
Time was, when John Bull little difference spied’Twixt the foe at his feet or the friend at his side;When he found, such his humor in fighting and eating,His foe, likebeefsteak, the sweeter for beating.Moore.
If it were done, when ’tis done, then ’twere well,It were done quickly.Shakspeare.
Cut the steaks off a rump or the ribs of a fore quarter. Have the gridiron perfectly clean, and heated over a clear quick fire, lay on the steaks, and with meat-tongs, keep turning them constantly, till they are done enough; throw a little salt over them before taking them off the fire. Serve as hot as possible, plain or with a made gravy and slicedonions, or rub a bit of butter on the steaks the moment of serving. Mutton-chops are broiled in the same manner.
Fair fa’ your honest sonsie face,Great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race;Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,Painch, tripe, or thairm,Weel are ye wordy of a graceAs langs my arm.His knife see rustic labor dight,An’ cut you up with ready slight,Trenching your gushing entrail brightLike onie ditch,And then, O! what a glorious sight,Warm reekin’ rich.Ye powers wha mak mankind your care,And dish them out their bill of fare,Auld Scotland wants nae skinking wareThat jaups in luggies,But if ye wish her grateful pray’r,Gie her aHaggis.Burns.
Make the haggis bag perfectly clean; parboil the draught, boil the liver very well, so as it will grate, dry the meal before the fire, mince the draught and a pretty large piece of beef, verysmall; grate about half the liver, mince plenty of the suet and some onions small; mix all these materials very well together with a handful or two of the dried meal; spread them on the table, and season them properly with salt and mixed spices; take any of the scraps of beef that are left from mincing, and some of the water that boiled the draught, and make about a choppin (i. e.a quart) of good stock of it; then put all the haggis meat into the bag, and that broth in it; then sew up the bag; put out all the wind before you sew it quite close. If you think the bag is thin, you may put it in a cloth.
If it is a large haggis, it will take at least two hours boiling.
N. B. The above is a receipt from Mrs. MacIver, a celebrated Caledonian professor of the culinary art, who taught and published a book of cookery, at Edinburgh, A. D. 1787.
The British fleet, which now commands the main,Might glorious wreaths of victory obtain,Would they take time, would they with leisure work,With care wouldsalt their beef, and cure their pork.There is no dish, but whatourcooks have madeAnd merited a charter by their trade.King.
Make a pickle of rock salt and cold water strongenough to bear an egg, let a little salt remain in the bottom of the tub; two quarts of molasses and a quarter pound of saltpetre is sufficient for a cwt. of beef. It is fit for use in ten days. Boil the beef slowly until the bones come out easily, then wrap it in a towel, and put a heavy weight on it till cold.
Silence is commendable onlyIn aneat’s tonguedried.Shakspeare.
Cut off the root, leaving a little of the kernel and fat. Sprinkle some salt, and let it drain till next day; then for each tongue, mix a large spoonful of common salt, the same of coarse sugar, and about half as much of saltpetre; rub it well in, and do so every day. In a week add another heaped spoonful of salt. If rubbed every day, a tongue will be ready in a fortnight; but if only turned in the pickle daily, it will keep four or five weeks without being too salt. Smoke them or plainly dry them, if you like best. When to be dressed, boil it extremely tender; allow five hours, and if done sooner, it is easily kept hot. The longer kept after drying, the higher it will be; if hard, it may require soaking three or four hours.
Pray a slice of yourliver.Goldsmith.
Wash and wipe it, then cut a long hole in it, and stuff it with crumbs of bread, chopped, an anchovy, a good deal of fat bacon, onion, salt, pepper, a bit of butter, and an egg;sew the liver up, lard it, wrap it in a veal caul, and roast it. Serve with good brown gravy and currant jelly.
A cook has mighty things professed;Then send us but two dishes nicely dressed,—One calledScotch Collops.King.
Cut veal in thin bits, about three inches over and rather round, beat with a rolling-pin; grate a little nutmeg over them; dip in the yolk of an egg, and fry them in a little butter of a fine brown; have ready, warm, to pour upon them, half a pint of gravy, a little bit of butter rubbed into a little flour, to which put the yolk of an egg, two large spoonfuls of cream, and a little salt.
Do not boil the sauce, but stir until of a fine thickness to serve with the collops.
In truth, I’m confoundedAnd bothered, my dear, ’twixt that troublesome boy’s(Bob’s) cookery language, and Madame Le Roi’s.What with fillets of roses andfillets of veal,Things garni with lace, and things garni with eel,One’s hair and one’s cutlets both en papillote,And a thousand more things I shall ne’er have by rote.Moore.
Bone, lard, and stuff a fillet of veal; half roast and then stew it with two quarts of white stock, a teaspoonful of lemon pickle, and one of mushroom ketchup. Before serving strain the gravy, thicken it with butter rolled in flour, add a little cayenne, salt, and some pickled mushrooms; heat it and pour it over the veal. Have ready two or three dozen forcemeat balls to put round it and upon the top. Garnish with cut lemon.
And the dish set before them,—O dish well devised!—Was what Old Mother Glasse calls “a calf’s head surprised.”Moore.
Clean and blanch a calf’s head, boil it till the bones will come out easily, then bone and press it between two dishes, so as to give it a headlongform; beat it with the yolks of four eggs, a little melted butter, pepper and salt. Divide the head when cold, and brush it all over with the beaten eggs, and strew over it grated bread, which is put over one half; a good quantity of finely minced parsley should be mixed; place the head upon a dish, and bake it of a nice brown color. Serve it with a sauce of parsley and butter, and with one of good gravy, mixed with the brains, which have been previously boiled, chopped, and seasoned with a little cayenne and salt.
Good L—d! to see the various waysOf dressing a calf’s head.Shenstone.
Wash and clean it well, parboil it, take out the bones, brains, and tongue; make forcemeat sufficient for the head, and some balls with breadcrumbs, minced suet, parsley, grated ham, and a little pounded veal or cold fowl; season with salt, grated nutmeg, and lemon-peel; bind it with an egg beaten up; fill the head with it, which must then be sewed up, or fastened with skewers and tied; while roasting baste it well with butter; beat up the brains with a little cream, the yolk of an egg, some minced parsley, a little pepper and salt;blanch the tongue and cut it into slices, and fry it with the brains, forcemeat balls, and thin slices of bacon.
Serve the head with white or brown thickened gravy, and place the tongue and forcemeat balls round it. Garnish with cut lemon. It will require one hour and a half to roast.
Long as, by bayonets protected, we WattiesMay have our full fling at theirsalmisand patés.Moore.
Cut off the best parts of a couple of roasted wild ducks, and put the rest of the meat into a mortar, with six shallots, a little parsley, some pepper, and a bay leaf; pound all these ingredients well, and then put into a saucepan, with four ladlesful of stock, half a glass of white wine, the same of broth, and a little grated nutmeg; reduce these to half, strain them, and having laid the pieces on a dish, cover them with the above; keep the whole hot, not boiling, until wanted for table.
I give thee all my kitchen lore,Though poor the offering be;I’ll tell thee how ’tis cooked, beforeYou come to dine with me.The duck is truss’d from head to heels,Then stew’d with butter well,And streaky bacon, which revealsA most delicious smell.
When duck and bacon, in a mass,You in a stewpan lay,A spoon around the vessel pass,And gently stir away;A tablespoonful of flour bring,A quart of water plain,Then in it twenty onions fling,And gently stir again.
A bunch of parsley, and a leafOf ever verdant bay,Two cloves,—I make my language brief,—Then add your peas you may;And let it simmer till it singsIn a delicious strain;Then take your duck, nor let the stringsFor trussing it remain.
The parsley fail not to remove,Also the leaf of bay;Dish up your duck,—the sauce improveIn the accustom’d way,With pepper, salt, and other thingsI need not here explain;And if the dish contentment brings,You’ll dine with me again.
Our courtier walks from dish to dish,Tastes from his friends offowland fish,Tells all their names, lays down the law,“Que ça est bon.” “Ah! goutez ça.”Pope.
Make a forcemeat of grated bread, half its quantity of minced suet, an onion, or a few oysters and some boiled parsley, season with pepper, salt, and grated lemon-peel, and an egg beaten up to bind it. Bone the breast of a good sized young fowl, put in the forcemeat, cover the fowl with a piece of white paper buttered, and roast it half an hour; make a thick batter of flour, milk, and eggs, take off the paper, and pour some of the batter over the fowl; as soon as it becomes dry, add more, and do this till it is all crusted over and a nice brown color, serve it with melted butter and lemon pickle, or a thickened brown gravy.
But man, cursed man, onturkeyspreys,And Christmas shortens all our days.Sometimes with oysters we combine,Sometimes assist the savory chine.From the low peasant to the lord,Theturkeysmokes on every board.Gay.
Make a stuffing of bread, salt, pepper, nutmeg, lemon-peel, a few oysters, a bit of butter, some suet, and an egg; put this into the crop, fasten up the skin, and boil the turkey in a floured cloth to make it very white. Have ready some oyster sauce made rich with butter, a little cream, and a spoonful of soy, and serve over the turkey.
And something’s here with name uncivil,For our cook christens it “A Devil,”“A Devil, in any shape, sweet maid,A parson fears not,” Syntax said;“I’ll make him minced meat; ’tis my trade.”
Take cold roast turkey legs, score them well, season them with salt and plenty of cayenne pepper and mustard, then broil them. Serve themhot.
In good roast beef my landlord sticks his knife,Thecaponfat delights his dainty wife.Gay.
Take a quart of white wine, season the capon with salt, cloves, and whole pepper, a few shallots, and then put the capon in an earthen pan; you must take care it has not room to shake; it must be covered close, and done over a slow charcoal fire.
Gargilius, sleek, voluptuous lord,A hundred dainties smoke upon his board;Earth, air, and ocean ransack’d for the feast,In masquerade of foreign olios dress’d.Warton.
Reduce two spoonfuls of veloute or sauce tournée, and add to the yolks of four eggs; put to this the white meat of a chicken, minced very small, and well mixed with the sauce; take it out, and roll it into balls, about the size of a walnut; roll them in breadcrumbs, giving them an elongated form; then beat them in some well-beaten egg; bread them again, and fry them of a light brown.
But hang it, to poets, who seldom can eat,Your very goodmutton’sa very good treat.Goldsmith.
Cut off the shank bone, and trim the knuckle, put it into lukewarm water for ten minutes, wash it clean, cover it with cold water, and let it simmer very gently, and skim it carefully; a leg of nine pounds will take two and a half or three hours, if you like it thoroughly done, especially in very cold weather.
The liquor the mutton is boiled in, you may convert into good soup in five minutes, and Scotch barley broth. Thus managed, a leg of mutton is a most economical joint.
Or urged thereunto by the woes he endured,The way to besmoked, is the way to becured.Anonymous.
But to the fading palate bring relief,By theWestphalian hamor Belgic beef.King.
When the weather will permit, hang the ham three days; mix an ounce of saltpetre with onequarter of a pound of bay salt, ditto common salt, ditto of coarsest sugar, and a quart of strong beer; boil them together, and pour over immediately on the ham; turn it twice a day in the pickle for three weeks. An ounce of black pepper, ditto of pimento in finest powder, added to the above, will give still more flavor. Cover with bran when wiped, and smoke from three to four weeks, as you approve; the latter will make it harder, and more of the flavor of Westphalia. Sew hams in hessings,i. e.coarse wrapper, if to be smoked where there is a strong fire.