Mixture.

Boil half the liquor from a quart of oysters. Put in all the oysters, leaving out the uncooked liquor; heat to boiling, and stir in—

Boil four minutes, stirring all the time until it thickens, and fill the cavity in the paste shells. Thesepâtésare very nice.

The heart is the only part used. If you buy them in the shell, boil and take out the hearts. Those sold in our markets are generally ready for frying or stewing.

Dip them in beaten egg, then in cracker-crumbs and fry in hot lard.

You may stew like oysters. The fried scallops are generally preferred.

Chop the clams fine, and season with pepper and salt. Cayenne pepper is thought to give a finer flavor thanblack or white; but to some palates it is insufferable. Mix in another dish some powdered cracker, moistened first with warm milk, then with the clam liquor, a beaten egg or two, and some melted butter. Stir in with this the chopped clams. Wash as many clam-shells as the mixture will fill; wipe and butter them; fill, heaping up and smoothing over with a silver knife or teaspoon. Range in rows in your baking-pan, and cook until nicely browned. Or, if you do not care to be troubled with the shells, bake in patty-pans, sending to table hot in the tins, as you would in the scallop-shells.

Add the liquor from the clams to the milk; beat up the eggs and put to this, with salt and pepper, and flour enough for thin batter; lastly, the chopped clams. Fry in hot lard, trying a little first to see that fat and batter are right. A tablespoonful will make a fritter of moderate size. Or, you can dip the whole clams in batter and cook in like manner. Fry quickly, or they are apt to be too greasy.

Fry five or six slices of fat pork crisp, and chop to pieces. Sprinkle some of these in the bottom of a pot; lay upon them a stratum of clams; sprinkle with cayenne or black pepper and salt, and scatter bits of butter profusely over all; next, have a layer of chopped onions, then one of small crackers, split and moistened with warm milk. On these pour a little of the fat left in the pan after the pork is fried, and then comes a new roundof pork, clams, onion, etc. Proceed in this order until the pot is nearly full, when cover with water, and stew slowly—the pot closely covered—for three-quarters of an hour. Drain off all the liquor that will flow freely, and, when you have turned the chowder into the tureen, return the gravy to the pot. Thicken with flour, or, better still, pounded crackers; add a glass of wine, some catsup, and spiced sauce; boil up, and pour over the contents of the tureen. Send around walnut or butternut pickles with it.

Poultry should never be eaten in less than six or eight hours after it is killed; but it should be picked and drawn as soon as possible. There is no direr disgrace to our Northern markets than the practice of sending whole dead fowls to market. I have bought such from responsible poultry dealers, and found them uneatable, from having remained undrawn until the flavor of the craw and intestines had impregnated the whole body. Those who are conversant with the habit of careful country housewives, of keeping up a fowl without food for a day and night before killing and dressing for their own eating, cannot but regard with disgust the surcharged crops and puffy sides of those soldby weightin the shambles. If you want to know what you really pay for poultry bought in these circumstances, weigh the offal extracted from the fowl by your cook, and deduct from the market weight. “But don’t you know it actually poisons a fowl to lie so long undressed?” once exclaimed a Southern lady to me. “Inourmarkets they are offered for sale ready picked and drawn, with the giblets—also cleaned—tucked under their wings.”

I know nothing about the poisonous nature of the entrails and crops. I do assert that the custom is unclean and unjust. And this I do without the remotest hope of arousing my fellow-housekeepers to remonstrance against established usage. Only it relieves my mind somewhat to grumble at what I cannot help. The best remedy I can propose for the grievance is to buy live fowls, and, before sending them home, ask your butcher to decapitate them; the probabilities being greatly in favor of the supposition that your cook is too “tinder-hearted” to attempt the job.

One word as to the manner of roasting meats and fowls. In this day of ranges and cooking-stoves, I think I am speaking within bounds when I assume that not one housekeeper in fifty uses a spit, or even a tin kitchen, for such purposes. It is in vain that the writers of receipt-books inform us with refreshingnaïvetéthat all our meats are baked, not roasted, and expatiate upon the superior flavor of those prepared upon the English spits and in old fashioned kitchens, where enormous wood-fires blazed from morning until night. I shall not soon forget my perplexity when, an inexperienced housekeeper and a firm believer in all “that was writ” by older and wiser people, I stood before my neat Mott’s “Defiance,” a fine sirloin of beef ready to be cooked on the table behind me, and read from my Instruction-book that my “fire should extend at least eight inches beyond the roaster on either side!” I am not denying the virtues of spits and tin kitchens—only regretting that they are not within the reach of every one. In view of this fact, let me remark, for the benefit of the unfortunate many, that, in the opinion of excellent judges, the practice of roasting meat in close ovens has advantages. Of these I need mention but two, to wit, the preservation of the flavor of the article roasted, and the prevention of its escape to the upper regions of the dwelling.

After drawing the turkey, rinse out with several waters, and in next to the last mix a teaspoonful of soda. The inside of a fowl, especially if purchased in the market, is sometimes very sour, and imparts an unpleasant taste to the stuffing, if not to the inner part of the legs and side-bones. The soda will act as a corrective, and is moreover very cleansing. Fill the body with this water, shake well, empty it out, and rinse with fair water. Then prepare a dressing of bread-crumbs, mixed with butter, pepper, salt, thyme or sweet marjoram. You may, if you like, add the beaten yolks of two eggs. A little chopped sausage is esteemed an improvement when well incorporated with the other ingredients. Or, mince a dozen oysters and stir into the dressing. The effect upon the turkey-meat, particularly that of the breast, is very pleasant.

Stuff the craw with this, and tie a string tightly about the neck, to prevent the escape of the stuffing. Then fill the body of the turkey, and sew it up with strong thread. This and the neck-string are to be removed when the fowl is dished. In roasting, if your fire is brisk, allow about ten minutes to a pound; but it will depend very much upon the turkey’s age whether this rule holds good. Dredge it with flour before roasting, and baste often; at first with butter and water, afterward with the gravy in the dripping-pan. If you lay the turkey in the pan, put in with it a teacup of hot water. Many roast always upon a grating placed on the top of the pan. In that case the boiling water steams the underpart of the fowl, and prevents the skin from drying too fast, or cracking. Roast to a fine brown, and if it threaten to darken too rapidly, lay a sheet of white paper over it until the lower part is also done.

Stew the chopped giblets in just enough water to coverthem, and when the turkey is lifted from the pan, add these, with the water in which they were boiled, to the drippings; thicken with a spoonful of browned flour, wet with cold water to prevent lumping, boil up once, and pour into the gravy-boat. If the turkey is fat, skim the drippings well before putting in the giblets.

Serve with cranberry sauce. Some lay fried oysters in the dish around the turkey.

Chop about two dozen oysters, and mix with them a dressing compounded as for roast turkey, only with more butter. Stuff the turkey as for roasting, craw and body, and baste about it a thin cloth, fitted closely to every part. The inside of the cloth should be dredged with flour to prevent the fowl from sticking to it. Allow fifteen minutes to a pound, and boil slowly.

Serve with oyster-sauce, made by adding to a cupful of the liquor in which the turkey was boiled, eight oysters chopped fine. Season with minced parsley, stir in a spoonful of rice or wheat flour, wet with cold milk, a tablespoonful of butter. Add a cupful of hot milk. Boil up once and pour into an oyster-tureen. Send around celery with it.

Cut the meat from the bones of a cold boiled or roasted turkey left from yesterday’s dinner. Remove the bits of skin and gristle, and chop up the rest very fine. Put in the bottom of a buttered dish a layer of cracker or bread-crumbs; moisten slightly with milk, that they may not absorb all the gravy to be poured in afterward; then spread a layer of the minced turkey, with bits of the stuffing, pepper, salt, and small pieces of butter. Another layer of cracker, wet with milk, and so on until the dish is nearlyfull. Before putting on the topmost layer, pour in the gravy left from the turkey, diluted—should there not be enough—with hot water, and seasoned with Worcestershire sauce, or catsup, and butter. Have ready a crust of cracker-crumbs soaked in warm milk, seasoned with salt, and beaten up light with two eggs. It should be just thick enough to spread smoothly over the top of the scallop. Stick bits of butter plentifully upon it, and bake. Turn a deep plate over the dish until the contents begin to bubble at the sides, showing that the whole is thoroughly cooked; then remove the cover, and brown. A large pudding-dish full of the mixture will be cooked in three-quarters of an hour.

This, like many other economical dishes, will prove so savory as to claim a frequent appearance upon any table.

Cold chicken may be prepared in the same way

The minced turkey, dressing, and cracker-crumbs may be wet with gravy, two eggs beaten into it, and the force-meat thus made rolled into oblong shapes, dipped in egg and pounded cracker, and fried like croquettes, for a side dish, to “make out” a dinner of ham or cold meat.

This is also a cheap, yet nice dish. Cut the cold turkey from the bones and into bits an inch long with knife and fork, tearing as little as possible. Put into a skillet or saucepan the gravy left from the roast, with hot water to dilute it should the quantity be small. Add a lump of butter the size of an egg, a teaspoonful of pungent sauce, a large pinch of nutmeg, with a little salt. Let it boil, and put in the meat. Stew very slowly for ten minutes—not more—and stir in a tablespoonful of cranberry or currant jelly, another of browned flour which has been wet withcold water; lastly, a glass of brown Sherry or Madeira. Boil up once, and serve in a covered dish for breakfast. Leave out the stuffing entirely; it is no improvement to the flavor, and disfigures the appearance of the ragoût.

Having picked and drawn them, wash out well in two or three waters, adding a little soda to the last but one should any doubtful odor linger about the cavity. Prepare a stuffing of bread-crumbs, butter, pepper, salt, &c. Fill the bodies and crops of the chickens, which should be young and plump; sew them up, and roast an hour or more, in proportion to their size. Baste two or three times with butter and water, afterward with their own gravy. If laid flat within the dripping pan, put in at the first a little hot water to prevent burning.

Stew the giblets and necks in enough water to cover them, and, when you have removed the fowls to a hot dish, pour this into the drippings; boil up once; add the giblets, chopped fine; thicken with browned flour; boil again, and send to table in a gravy-boat.

Serve with crab-apple jelly or tomato sauce.

Clean, wash, and stuff as for roasting. Baste a floured cloth around each, and put into a pot with enough boiling water to cover them well. The hot water cooks the skin at once, and prevents the escape of the juices. The broth will not be so rich as if the fowls are put on in cold water, but this is a proof that the meat will be more nutritious and better flavored. Stew very slowly, for the first half hour especially. Boil an hour or more, guiding yourself by size and toughness.

Serve witheggorbread sauce. (SeeSauces.)

Clean, wash, and cut up the fowls, which need not be so tender as for roasting. Lay them in salt and water for half an hour. Put them in a pot with enough cold water to cover them, and half a pound of salt pork cut into thin strips. Cover closely, and let them heat very slowly; then stew for over an hour, if the fowls are tender. I have used chickens for this purpose that required four hours stewing, but they were tender and good when done. Only put them on in season, and cook very slowly. If they boil fast, they toughen and shrink into uneatableness. When tender, add a chopped onion or two, parsley, and pepper. Cover closely again, and, when it has heated to boiling, stir in a teacupful of milk, to which have been added two beaten eggs and two tablespoonfuls of flour. Boil up fairly; add a great spoonful of butter. Arrange the chicken neatly in a deep chafing-dish, pour the gravy over it, and serve.

In this, as in all cases where beaten egg is added to hot liquor, it is best to dip out a few spoonfuls of the latter, and drop a little at a time into the egg, beating all the while, that it may heat evenly and gradually before it is put into the scalding contents of the saucepan or pot. Eggs managed in this way will not curdle, as they are apt to do if thrown suddenly into hot liquid.

Clean, wash, and cut up a pair of young chickens. Lay in clear water for half an hour. If they are old, you cannot brown them well. Put them in a saucepan, with enough cold water to cover them well, and set over the fire to heat slowly. Meanwhile, cut half a pound of salt pork into strips, and fry crisp. Take them out, chop fine,and put into the pot with the chicken. Fry in the fat left in the frying-pan one large onion, or two or three small ones, cut into slices. Let them brown well, and add them also to the chicken, with a quarter teaspoonful of allspice and cloves. Stew all together slowly for an hour or more, until the meat is very tender; you can test this with a fork. Take out the pieces of fowl and put in a hot dish, covering closely until the gravy is ready. Add to this a great spoonful of walnut or other dark catsup, and nearly three tablespoonfuls of browned flour, a little chopped parsley, and a glass of brown Sherry. Boil up once; strain through a cullender, to remove the bits of pork and onion; return to the pot, with the chicken; let it come to a final boil, and serve, pouring the gravy over the pieces of fowl.

It is possible to render a tough fowl eatable by boiling or stewing it with care.Neverbroil such! And even when assured that your “broiler” is young, it is wise to make this doubly sure by laying it upon sticks extending from side to side of a dripping-pan full of boiling water. Set this in the oven, invert a tin pan over the chicken, and let it steam for half an hour. This process relaxes the muscles, and renders supple the joints, besides preserving the juices that would be lost in parboiling. The chicken should be split down the back, and wiped perfectly dry before it is steamed. Transfer from the vapor-bath to a buttered gridiron, inside downward. Cover with a tin pan or common plate, and broil until tender and brown, turning several times; from half to three-quarters of an hour will be sufficient. Put into a hot chafing-dish, and butter very well. Send to table smoking hot.

Clean, wash, and cut to pieces a couple of Spring chickens.Have ready in a frying-pan enough boiling lard or dripping to cover them well. Dip each piece in beaten egg when you have salted it, then in cracker-crumbs, and fry until brown. If the chicken is large, steam it before frying, as directed in the foregoing receipt. When you have taken out the meat, throw into the hot fat a dozen sprigs of parsley, and let them remain a minute—just long enough to crisp, but not to dry them. Garnish the chicken by strewing these over it.

Cut up half a pound of fat salt pork in a frying-pan, and fry until the grease is extracted, but not until it browns. Wash and cut up a young chicken (broiling size), soak in salt and water for half an hour; wipe dry, season with pepper, and dredge with flour; then fry in the hot fat until each piece is a rich brown on both sides. Take up, drain, and set aside in a hot covered dish. Pour into the gravy left in the frying-pan a cup of milk—half cream is better; thicken with a spoonful of flour and a tablespoonful of butter; add some chopped parsley, boil up, and pour over the hot chicken. This is a standard dish in the Old Dominion, and tastes nowhere else as it does when eaten on Virginia soil. The cream gravy is often omitted, and the chicken served up dry, with bunches of fried parsley dropped upon it.

Line the bottom and sides of a pot with a good rich paste, reserving enough for a top crust and for the square bits to be scattered through the pie. Butter the pot very lavishly, or your pastry will stick to it and burn. Cut up a fine large fowl, and half a pound of corned ham or salt pork. Put in a layer of the latter, pepper it, and coverwith pieces of the chicken, and this with the paste dumplings or squares. If you use potatoes, parboil them before putting them into the pie, as the first water in which they are boiled is rank and unwholesome. The potatoes should be sliced and laid next the pastry squares; then another layer of pork, and so on until your chicken is used up. Cover with pastry rolled out quite thick, and slit this in the middle. Heat very slowly, and boil two hours. Turn into a large dish, the lower crust on top, and the gravy about it.

This is the old-fashioned pot-pie, dear to the memory of men who were school-boys thirty and forty years ago. If you are not experienced in such manufactures, you had better omit the lower crust; and, having browned the upper, by putting a hot pot-lid or stove-cover on top of the pot for some minutes, remove dexterously without breaking. Pour out the chicken into a dish, and set the crust above it.

Veal, beef-steak, lamb (not mutton), hares, &c., may be substituted for the chicken. The pork will salt it sufficiently.

Is made as above, but baked in a buttered pudding-dish, and, in place of the potatoes, three hard-boiled eggs are chopped up and strewed among the pieces of chicken. If the chickens are tough, or even doubtful, parboil them before making the pie, adding the water in which they were boiled, instead of cold water, for gravy. If they are lean, put in a few bits of butter. Ornament with leaves cut out with a cake-cutter, and a star in the centre. Bake an hour—more, if the pie is large.

Cut up as for fricassee, and parboil, seasoning well withpepper, salt, and a lump of butter the size of an egg, to each chicken. The fowls should be young and tender, and divided at every joint. Stew slowly for half an hour, take them out, and lay on a flat dish to cool. Set aside the water in which they were stewed for your gravy.

Make a batter of one quart of milk, three cups of flour, three tablespoonfuls melted butter, half a teaspoonful soda, and one spoonful of cream tartar, with four eggs well beaten, and a little salt. Put a layer of chicken in the bottom of the dish, and pour about half a cupful of batter over it—enough to conceal the meat; then, another layer of chicken, and more batter, until the dish is full. The batter must form the crust. Bake one hour, in a moderate oven, if the dish is large.

Beat up an egg, and stir into the gravy which was set aside; thicken with two teaspoonfuls of rice or wheat flour, add a little chopped parsley; boil up, and send it to table in a gravy-boat.

Draw, wash, and stuff a pair of young fowls. Cut enough large, thick slices of cold boiled ham to envelop these entirely, wrapping them up carefully, and winding a string about all, to prevent the ham from falling off. Put into your dripping-pan, with a little water to prevent scorching; dashing it over the meat lest it should dry and shrink. Invert a tin pan over all, and bake slowly for one hour and a quarter, if the fowls are small and tender—longer, if tough. Lift the cover from time to time to baste with the drippings—the more frequently as time wears on. Test the tenderness of the fowls, by sticking a fork through the ham into the breast. When done, undo the strings, lay the fowls in a hot dish, and the slices of ham about them. Stir into the dripping a little chopped parsley, a tablespoonful of browned flour wet in cold water;pepper, and let it boil up once. Pour some of it over the chickens—not enough to float the ham in the dish; serve the rest in a gravy-boat.

Clean, wash, and wipe the ducks very carefully. To the usual dressing add a little sage (powdered or green), and a minced shallot. Stuff, and sew up as usual, reserving the giblets for the gravy. If they are tender, they will not require more than an hour to roast. Baste well. Skim the gravy before putting in the giblets and thickening. The giblets should be stewed in a very little water, then chopped fine, and added to the gravy in the dripping-pan, with a chopped shallot and a spoonful of browned flour.

Accompany with currant or grape jelly.

I may say, as preface, that cold duck is in itself an excellent supper dish, or side dish, at a family dinner, and is often preferred to hot. If the duck has been cut into at all, divide neatly into joints, and slice the breast, laying slices of dressing about it. Garnish with lettuce or parsley, and eat with jelly.

But if a warm dish is desired, cut the meat from the bones and lay in a saucepan, with a little minced cold ham; pour on just enough water to cover it, and stir in a tablespoonful of butter. Cover, and heat gradually, until it isnearboiling. Then add the gravy, diluted with a little hot water; a great spoonful of catsup, one of Worcestershire sauce, and one of currant or cranberry jelly, with a glass of wine and a tablespoonful of browned flour.

You may put the gravy, with a little hot water and a lump of butter, in a frying-pan, and when it is hot lay in thepieces of duck, and warm up quickly, stirring in at the last a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce and a tablespoonful of jelly.

Serve in a hot chafing-dish.

(For wild ducks, seeGame.)

This is a good way to treat an old tough fowl.

Clean and divide, as you would a chicken for fricassee. Put in a saucepan, with several (minced) slices of cold ham or salt pork which is not too fat, and stew slowly for at least an hour—keeping the lid on all the while. Then stir in a chopped onion, a half-spoonful of powdered sage, or of the green leaves cut fine, half as much parsley, a tablespoonful catsup, and black pepper. Stew another half-hour, or until the duck is tender, and add a teaspoonful brown sugar, and a tablespoonful of browned flour, previously wet with cold water. Boil up once, and serve in a deep covered dish, with green peas as an accompaniment.

Many are not aware what an excellent article of food these speckled Arabs of the poultry-yard are. They are kept chiefly for the beauty of their plumage, and their delicious eggs, which are far richer than those of chickens.

Unless young they are apt to be tough, and the dark color of the meat is objected to by those who are not fond of, or used to eating game. Cooked according to the foregoing receipt they are very savory, no matter how old they may be. Put them on early, and stewslowly, and good management will bring the desired end to pass. There is nothing in the shape of game or poultry that is not amenable to this process, providing the salt be omitted until the meat is tender.

But a pair of young Guinea fowls, stuffed and roasted, basting them with butter until they are half done, deserve an honorable place upon our bill of fare. Season the gravy with a chopped shallot, parsley, or summer savory, not omitting the minced giblets, and thicken with browned flour. Send around currant, or other tart jelly, with the fowl. A little ham, minced fine, improves the dressing.

Clean and wash the goose—not forgetting to put a spoonful of soda in next to the last water, rinse out well, and wipe the inside quite dry. Add to the usual stuffing of bread-crumbs, pepper, salt, etc., a tablespoonful melted butter, an onion chopped fine, a tablespoonful chopped sage, the yolks of two eggs, and some minute bits of fat pork. Stuff body and craw, and sew up. It will take fully two hours to roast, if the fire is strong. Cover the breast, until it is half done, with white paper, or a paste of flour and water, removing this when you are ready to brown.

Make a gravy as for roast duck, adding a glass of Sherry or Madeira, or (if you can get it) old Port.

Send to table with cranberry or apple sauce.

An old goose is as nearly good for nothing as it is possible for anything which was once valuable, and is not now absolutely spoiled, to be. The best use to put it to is to make it into a pie, in the following manner. Put on the ancient early in the morning, in cold water enough to cover it, unsalted, having cut it to pieces at every joint. Warm it up gradually, and let it stew—not boil hard—for four or five hours. Should the water need replenishing, let it be done from the boiling kettle. Parboil abeef’s tongue (corned), cut into slices nearly half an inch thick; also slice six hard-boiled eggs. Line a deep pudding-dish with a good paste; lay in the pieces of goose, the giblets chopped, the sliced tongue and egg, in consecutive layers; season with pepper, salt, and bits of butter, and proceed in this order until the dish is full. If the goose be large, cut the meat from the bones after stewing, and leave out the latter entirely. Intersperse with strips of paste, and fill up with the gravy in which the goose was stewed, thickened with flour. Cover with a thick paste, and when it is done, brush over the top with beaten white of egg.

In cold weather this pie will keep a week, and is very good.

Clean, wash, and stuff as you would chickens. Lay them in rows, if roasted in the oven, with a little water in the pan to prevent scorching. Unless they are very fat, baste with butter until they are half done, afterwards with their own gravy. Thicken the gravy that drips from them, and boil up once; then pour into a gravy-boat. The pigeons should lie close together in the dish.

Pick, draw, clean and stuff as above directed. Put the pigeons in a deep pot with enough cold water to cover them, and stew gently for an hour, or until, testing them with a fork, you find them tender. Then season with pepper, salt, a few blades of mace, a little sweet marjoram, and a good piece of butter. Stew, or rather simmer, for five minutes longer—then stir in a tablespoonful of browned flour. Let it boil up once; remove the pigeons, draw out the strings with which they were sewed up, and serve, pouring the hot gravy over them. A little salt pork orham, cut into strips, is an improvement. This should be put in when the pigeons have stewed half an hour.

Young pigeons or “squabs” are rightly esteemed a great delicacy. They are cleaned, washed, and dried carefully with a clean cloth; then split down the back, and broiled like chickens. Season with pepper and salt, and butter liberally in dishing them. They are in great request in a convalescent’s room, being peculiarly savory and nourishing.

They may, for a change, be roasted whole, according to the receipt for roast pigeons.

Is best made of wild pigeons. (SeeGame.)

The best pieces for roasting are the sirloin and rib pieces. The latter are oftenest used by small families. Make your butcher remove most of the bone, and skewer the meat into the shape of a round. If you roast in an oven, it is a good plan to dash a small cup ofboilingwater over the meat in first putting it down, letting it trickle into the pan. This, for a season, checks the escape of the juices, and allows the meat to get warmed through before the top dries by said escape. If there is much fat upon the upper surface, cover with a paste of flour and water until it is nearly done. Baste frequently, at first with salt and water, afterward with the drippings. Allow about a quarter of an hour to a pound, if you like yourmeat rare; more, if you prefer to have it well done. Some, when the meat is almost done, dredge with flour and baste with butter—only once.

Remove the beef, when quite ready, to a heated dish; skim the drippings; add a teacupful of boiling water, boil up once, and send to table in a gravy-boat. Many reject made gravy altogether, and only serve the red liquor that runs from the meat into the dish as it is cut. This is the practice with some—indeed most of our best housekeepers. If you have made gravy in a sauce-boat, give your guest his choice between that and the juice in the dish.

Serve with mustard, or scraped horse-radish and vinegar.

Set a piece of beef to roast upon a grating, or several sticks laid across a dripping-pan. Three-quarters of an hour before it is done, mix the pudding and pour into the pan. Continue to roast the beef, the dripping meanwhile falling upon the latter below. When both are done, cut the pudding into squares, and lay around the meat when dished. If there is much fat in the dripping-pan before the pudding is ready to be put in, drain it off, leaving just enough to prevent the batter from sticking to the bottom.

Be careful, in mixing, not to get the batter too stiff.

This pudding, which the cook who introduced it into my family persisted in calling “Auctionpudding,” is very palatable and popular, and not so rich as would bethought from the manner of baking. It should be a yellow-brown when done.

It is not customary to fry beef-steaks for people who know what really good cookery is. To speak more plainly, a steak,killedby heat and swimming in grease, is a culinary solecism, both vulgar and indigestible.

Cut the steak thick, at least three-quarters of an inch in thickness, and if you cannot get tender meat for this purpose, it is best to substitute some other dish for it. But since tender meat is not always to be had, if the piece you have purchased is doubtful, lay it on a clean cloth, take a blunt heavy carving-knife, if you have not a steak mallet, and hackcloselyfrom one end to the other; then turn and repeat the process upon the other side. The knife should be so dull you cannot cut with it, and the strokes not the sixtieth part of an inch apart. Wipe all over on both sides withlemon-juice, cover, and leave it in a cool place for one hour. Lay on a buttered gridiron over a clear fire, turning very often as it begins to drip. Do not season until it is done, which will be in about twelve minutes, if the fire is good and the cook attentive. Rub your hot chafing dish with a split raw onion, lay in the steak, salt and pepper on both sides, and put a liberal lump of butter upon the upper. Then put on a hot cover, and let it stand five minutes to draw the juices to the surface before it is eaten. If you have neither chafing-dish nor cover, lay the steak between two hot platters for the same time, sending to table without uncovering. A gridiron fittingunderthe grate is better than any other. If a gridiron is not at hand, rub a little butter upon the bottom of a hot, clean frying-pan, put in the meat, set over a bright fire, and turn frequently. This will not beequal to steak cooked upon a gridiron, but it is infinitely preferable to the same fried.

I shall never forget the wondering distrust with which my first cook, a sable “professional,” watched me when I undertook to show her how to prepare a steak for the third breakfast over which I presided as mistress of ceremonies. And when, at the end of twelve minutes, I removed the meat, “rare and hot,” to the heated dish in readiness, her sniff of lofty contempt was as eloquent as indescribable.

“Call datcooked! Folks ’bout here would ’a had dat steak on by day-break!”

A remark that has been recalled to my mind hundreds of times since at the tables of so-called capital housewives.

The best—nay, the only pieces for steak are those known as porter-house and sirloin. The former is the more highly esteemed by gourmands; but a really tender sirloin is more serviceable where there are several persons in the family, the porter-house having a narrow strip of extremely nice meat lying next the bone, while the rest is often inferior to any part of the sirloin. If the meat be tender omit the hacking process and lemon-juice.

Prepare the steak as above directed. While it is broiling put three or four chopped onions in a frying-pan with a little beef-dripping or butter. Stir and shake them briskly until they are done, and begin to brown. Dish your steak and lay the onions thickly on top. Cover and let all stand five or six minutes, that the hot onions may impart the required flavor to the hot meat. In helping your guests, inquire if they will take onions with the slices of steak put upon their plates. I need hardly remindthe sensible cook how necessary it is to withdraw the gridiron from the fire for an instant, should the fat drip upon the coals below, and smoke or blaze. Yet those who have eaten steaks flavored with creosote may thank me for the suggestion.

Take a round of beef; remove the bone from the middle, and trim away the tougher bits about the edges, with such gristle, &c., as you can reach. Set these aside for soup-stock.

Bind the beef into a symmetrical shape by passing a strip of stout muslin, as wide as the round is high, about it, and stitching the ends together at one side. Have ready at least a pound of fat salt pork, cut into strips as thick as your middle finger, and long enough to reach from top to bottom of the trussed round. Put a half pint of vinegar over the fire in a tin or porcelain saucepan; season with three or four minced shallots or button onions, two teaspoonfuls made mustard, a teaspoonful nutmeg, one of cloves, half as much allspice, half-spoonful black pepper, with a bunch of sweet herbs minced fine, and a tablespoonful brown sugar. Let all simmer for five minutes, then boil up once, and pour, while scalding hot, upon the strips of pork, which should be laid in a deep dish. Let all stand together until cold. Remove the pork to a plate, and mix with the liquor left in the dish enough bread-crumbs to make a tolerably stiff force-meat. If the vinegar is very strong, dilute with a little water before moistening the crumbs. With a long, thin-bladed knife, make perpendicular incisions in the meat, not more than half an inch apart, even nearer is better; thrust into these the strips of fat pork, so far down that the upper ends are just level with the surface, and work intothe cavities with them a little of the force-meat. Proceed thus until the meat is fairly riddled and plugged with the pork. Fill the hole from which the bone was taken with the dressing and bits of pork; rub the upper side of the beef well with the spiced force-meat. Put into a baking-pan; half-fill this with boiling water; turn a large pan over it to keep in the steam, and roast slowly for five or six hours, allowing half an hour to each pound of meat. If the beef be tough, you had better stew the round by putting it in a pot with half enough cold water to cover it. Cover tightly and stew very slowly for six hours; then set in the oven with the gravy about it, and brown half an hour, basting frequently.

If you roast the round, do not remove the cover, except to baste (and this should be done often), until fifteen minutes before you draw it from the oven. Set away with the muslin band still about it, and pour the gravy over the meat.

When cold, lift from the gravy,—which, by the way, will be excellent seasoning for your soup-stock,—cut the stitches in the muslin girdle, remove carefully and send the meat to table, cold, garnished with parsley and nasturtium blossoms. Carve horizontally, in slices thin as a shaving. Do not offer the outside to any one; but the second cut will be handsomely marbled with the white pork, which appearance should continue all the way down.

I cannot too highly commend this as a side-dish at dinner, and a supper and breakfast stand-by. In winter it will keep a week and more, and as long in summer, if kept in the refrigerator—except when it is on the table.

Cut up two pounds of beef—not too lean—into piecesan inch long; put them into a saucepan with just enough water to cover them, and stew gently for two hours. Set away until next morning, when season with pepper, salt, sweet marjoram or summer savory, chopped onion, and parsley. Stew half an hour longer, and add a teaspoonful of sauce or catsup, and a tablespoonful of browned flour wet up with cold water; finally, if you wish to have it very good, half a glass of wine. Boil up once, and pour into a covered deep dish.

This is an economical dish, for it can be made of the commoner parts of the beef, and exceedingly nice for winter breakfasts. Eaten with corn-bread and stewed potatoes, it will soon win its way to a place in the “stock company” of every judicious housewife.

Cut thin slices of cold roast beef, and lay them in a tin saucepan set in a pot of boiling water. Cover them with a gravy made of three tablespoonfuls of melted butter, one of walnut catsup, a teaspoonful of vinegar, a little salt and pepper, a spoonful of currant jelly, a teaspoonful made mustard, and some warm water. Cover tightly, and steam for half an hour, keeping the water in the outer vessel on a hard boil.

If the meat is underdone, this is particularly nice.

To two parts cold roast or boiled corned beef, chopped fine, put one of mashed potatoes, a little pepper, salt, milk, and melted butter. Turn all into a frying-pan, and stir until it is heated through and smoking hot, but not until it browns. Put into a deep dish, and if stiff enough, smooth as you would mashed potato, into a hillock.

Or, you can cease stirring for a few minutes, and let abrown crust form on the under side; then turn out whole into a flat dish, the brown side uppermost.

Or, mould the mixture into flat cakes; dip these in beaten egg flour, and fry in hot drippings.

The remains of beefà-la-modeare very good prepared in any of these ways. A little catsup and mustard are an improvement to plain cold beef, thus hashed.

Cut the steak into pieces an inch long, and stew with the bone (cracked) in just enough water to cover the meat until it is half-done. At the same time parboil a dozen potatoes in another pot. If you wish a bottom crust—a doubtful question—line a pudding-dish with a good paste, made according to the receipt given below. Put in a layer of the beef, with salt and pepper, and a very little chopped onion; then one of sliced potatoes, with a little butter scattered upon them, and so on, until the dish is full. Pour over all the gravy in which the meat is stewed, having first thrown away the bone and thickened with browned flour. Cover with a crust thicker than the lower, leaving a slit in the middle.

Work up very lightly and quickly, and do not get too stiff.

If you can get prepared flour, omit the soda and cream-tartar.

Mince some rare roast beef or cold corned beef, if it is not too salt; season with pepper and salt, and spread a layer in the bottom of a pudding-dish. Over this put one of mashed potato, and stick bits of butter thickly all over it; then another of meat, and so on until you are ready for the crust.

To a large cupful of mashed potato add two tablespoonfuls of melted butter, a well-beaten egg, two cups of milk, and beat all together until very light. Then work in enough flour to enable you to roll out in a sheet—not too stiff—and, when you have added to the meat and potato in the dish a gravy made of warm water, butter, milk, and catsup, with what cold gravy or dripping remains from “roast,” cover the pie with a thick, tender crust, cutting a slit in the middle.

You can use the potato crust, which is very wholesome and good, for any kind of meat-pie. It looks well brushed over with beaten white of egg before it goes to table.

Wash the heart well, and cut into squares half an inch long. Stew them for ten minutes in enough water to cover them. Salt the water slightly to draw out the blood, and throw it away as it rises in scum to the top. Take out the meat, strain the liquor, and return the chopped heart to it, with a sliced onion, a great spoonful of catsup, some parsley, a head of celery chopped fine, and cayenne pepper, with a large lump of butter. Stew until the meat is very tender, when add a tablespoonful of browned flour to thicken. Boil up once, and serve.

Rub each piece of beef well with salt mixed with one-tenth part of saltpetre, until the salt lies dry upon the surface. Put aside in a cold place for twenty-four hours, and repeat the process, rubbing in the mixture very thoroughly. Put away again until the next day, by which time the pickle should be ready.

Boil this brine ten minutes; let it get perfectly cold; then pour over the beef, having wiped the latter entirely dry.

Examine the pickle from time to time to see if it keeps well; if not, take out the meat without delay, wipe it, and rub in dry salt, covering it well until you can prepare new and stronger brine.

If your piece is a round, skewer it well into shape, and tie it up with stout tape or twine when you have washed it in three or four waters and removed all the salt from the outside. Put into a pot, and cover with cold water. Allow, in boiling, about twenty minutes to a pound. Turn the meat three times while cooking.

When done, drain very dry, and serve with drawn butter in a sauce-boat. Send around mashed turnips with the meat. They should be boiled in a separate pot, however, or they will impart a disagreeable taste to the beef.

The brisket is a good piece for a family dinner.

Soak over night in cold water when you have washed it well. Next morning put into a pot with plenty of coldwater, and boil slowly until it is tender throughout. This you can determine by testing it with a fork. Leave in the liquor until quite cold.

Pare off the thick skin, cut in round slices, and dish for tea, garnishing with fresh parsley.

Tongue sandwiches are generally held in higher esteem than those made of ham.

The most common way of serving dried or smoked beef is to shave it into thin slices or chips, raw; but a more savory relish may be made of it with little trouble.

Put the slices of uncooked beef into a frying-pan with just enough boiling water to cover them; set them over the fire for ten minutes, drain off all the water, and with a knife and fork cut the meat into small bits. Return to the pan, which should be hot, with a tablespoonful of butter and a little pepper. Have ready some well-beaten eggs, allowing four to a half-pound of beef; stir them into the pan with the minced meat, and toss and stir the mixture for about two minutes. Send to table in a covered dish.

The parts which are usually roasted are:—

The leg is best boiled, unless the mutton is young and very tender. To roast—wash the meat well, and dry with a clean cloth. Let your fire be clear and strong; put themeat on with a little water in the dripping-pan. If you think well of the plan (and I do), let there be a cupful of boiling water dashed over the meat when it is first put down to roast, and left to trickle into the pan. I have elsewhere explained the advantages of the method. Allow, in roasting, about twelve minutes per pound, if the fire is good. Baste often—at first with salt and water, afterward with the gravy. If it is in danger of browning too fast, cover with a large sheet of white paper. Roast lamb in the same manner, but not so long. Skim the gravy well, and thicken very slightly with browned flour. Serve with currant jelly.

A Christmas saddle of mutton is very fine prepared as follows: Wash it well, inside and out, with vinegar. Do not wipe it, but hang it up to dry in a cool cellar. When the vinegar has dried off, throw a clean cloth over it, to keep out the dust. On the next day but one, take down the meat and sponge it over again with vinegar, then put it back in its place in the cellar. Repeat this process three times a week for a fortnight, keeping the meat hung in a cold place, and covered, except while you are washing it. When you are ready to cook it, wipe it off with a dry cloth, but do not wash it. Roast—basting for the first hour with butter and water; afterward with the gravy, and keeping the meat covered with a large tin pan for two hours. A large saddle of mutton will require four hours to roast. When it is done, remove to a dish, and cover to keep it hot. Skim the gravy, and add half a teacupful of walnut, mushroom or tomato catsup, a glass of Madeira wine, and a tablespoonful of browned flour. Boil up once, and send to table in a sauce-boat. Always send around currant or some other tart jelly with roast mutton.If properly cooked, a saddle of mutton, prepared in accordance with these directions, will strongly resemble venison in taste. An old Virginia gentleman whom I used to know, always hung up the finest saddle his plantation could furnishsix weeksbefore Christmas, and had it sponged off with vinegar every other day, until the morning of the important 25th; and the excellence of his mutton was the talk of the neighborhood. It can certainly be kept a fortnight anywhere at that season.

Wash a leg of mutton clean, and wipe dry. Do not leave the knuckle and shank so long as to be unshapely. Put into a pot with hot water (salted) enough to cover it, and boil until you ascertain, by probing with a fork, that it is tender in the thickest part. Skim off all the scum as it rises. Allowabouttwelve minutes to each pound. Take from the fire, drain perfectly dry, and serve with melted butter, with capers, or nasturtium seed; or, if you have neither of these, some cucumber or gherkin-pickle stirred into it. If you wish to use the broth for soup, put in very little salt while boiling; if not, salt well, and boil the meat in a cloth.

Cut up from three to four pounds of mutton,—the inferior portions will do as well as any other,—crack the bones, and remove all the fat. Put on the meat—the pieces not more than an inch and a half in length—in a pot with enough cold water to cover well, and set it where it will heat gradually. Add nothing else until it has stewed an hour, closely covered; then throw in half a pound of salt pork cut into strips, a little chopped onion, and some pepper; cover and stew an hour longer, or until the meat is very tender. Make out a little paste, as forthe crust of a meat-pie; cut into squares, and drop in the stew. Boil ten minutes, and season further by the addition of a little parsley and thyme. Thicken with two spoonfuls of flour stirred into a cup of cold milk. Boil up once, and serve in a tureen or deep covered dish.

If green corn is in season, this stew is greatly improved by adding, an hour before it is taken from the fire, the grains of half a dozen ears, cut from the cob.

Try it for a cheap family dinner, and you will repeat the experiment often. Lamb is even better for your purpose than mutton.

If your butcher has not done it,—and the chances are that he has not, unless you stood by to see it attended to,—trim off the superfluous fat and skin, so as to give the chops a certain litheness and elegance of shape. Dip each in beaten egg, roll in pounded cracker, and fry in hot lard or dripping. If the fat is unsalted, sprinkle the chops with salt before rolling in the egg. Serve up dry and hot.

You may omit the egg and cracker, and broil on a gridiron over a bright fire. Put a little salt and pepper upon each chop, and butter them before they go to table. Cook lamb chops in the same way.

Cut them from the neck, and trim neatly. Lay aside the bits of bone and meat you cut off, to make gravy. Pour a little melted butter over the cutlets, and let them lie in it for fifteen minutes, keeping them just warm enough to prevent the butter from hardening; then dip each in beaten egg, roll in cracker-crumbs, and lay them in your dripping-pan with averylittle water at the bottom. Bake quickly, and baste often with butter and water. Put onthe bones, etc., in enough cold water to cover them; stew, and season with sweet herbs, pepper, and salt, with a spoonful of tomato catsup. Strain when all the substance is extracted from the meat and bones; thicken with browned flour, and pour over the cutlets when they are served.

For a leg of mutton weighing 12 lbs., take—

The day after the sheep is killed, mix the sugar, pepper, and saltpetre, and rub well into the meat for nearly fifteen minutes, until the outer part of it is thoroughly impregnated with the seasoning. Put the ham into a large earthenware vessel, and cover it with the salt. Let it remain thus for three weeks, turning it every day and basting it with the brine; adding to this, after the first week, a teacupful of vinegar. When the ham is removed from the pickle, wash with cold water, then with vinegar, and hang it up in a cool cellar for a week, at least, before it is used.

Soak an hour in fair water before boiling.

Or if you choose to smoke it for several days after it is corned, it can be chipped and eaten raw, like jerked venison or dried beef.

Most of the receipts above given will apply as well to lamb as to mutton. There are several exceptions, however, which you will do well to note. Lamb should never be boiled except in stews. It is tasteless and sodden cooked in this manner, on account of its immaturity. But, on the other hand, a lamb-pie, prepared like one of beef or venison, is excellent, while mutton-pies have usually a strong, tallowy taste, that spoils them for delicate palates.

Roast lamb should be eaten with mint sauce (if you fancy it), currant jelly, and asparagus or green peas. Lettuce-salad is likewise a desirable accompaniment.

Cut some slices of cold underdone mutton or lamb; put them in a frying-pan with enough gravy or broth to cover them. Or, if you have neither of them, make a gravy of butter, warm water, and catsup. Heat to boiling, and stir in pepper and a great spoonful of currant jelly. Send to table in a chafing-dish, with the gravy poured about the meat.

You can put a lump of the butter in the bottom of the pan, and when it boils, lay in the slices of meat, turning them before they have time to crisp. As soon as they are thoroughly heated take them out, lay upon a hot dish, sprinkle with pepper and salt, and serve with a small spoonful of jelly laid upon each.

Despite the prejudice, secret or expressed, which prevails in many minds against veal,—one which the wise and witty “Country Parson” has as surely fostered among reading people, as did Charles Lamb the partiality for roast pig,—the excellent and attractive dishes that own this as their base are almost beyond number. For soups it is invaluable, and inentreesandréchauffésit plays a distinguished part. From his head to his feet, the animal that furnishes us with this important element of success in what should be the prime object of cookery, to wit, toplease while we nourish, has proved himself so useful as an ally that it behooves us to lift the stigma from the name of “calf,” provided he be nottooinfantine. In that case he degenerates into an insipid mass of pulpy muscle and gelatine, and deserves the bitterest sneers that have been flung at his kind.

Veal requires a longer time to roast than mutton or lamb. It is fair to allowat leasta quarter of an hour to each pound. Heat gradually, baste frequently—at first with salt and water, afterward with gravy. When the meat is nearly done, dredge lightly with flour, and baste once with melted butter. Skim the gravy; thicken with a tablespoonful of flour, boil up, and put into the gravy-boat.

Should the meat brown too fast, cover with white paper. The juices, which make up the characteristic flavor of meat, are oftener dried out of veal than any other flesh that comes to our tables.

Make incisions between the ribs and the meat, and fill with a force-meat made of fine bread-crumbs, bits of pork, or ham chopped “exceeding small,” salt, pepper, thyme, sweet marjoram, and beaten egg. Save a little to thicken the gravy. Roast slowly, basting often, and the verdict of the eaters will differ from theirs who pronounce this the coarsest part of the veal. Dredge, at the last, with flour, and baste well once with butter, as with the loin.

Make ready a dressing of bread-crumbs, chopped thyme and parsley; a little nutmeg, pepper and salt, rubbedtogether with some melted butter or beef suet; moisten with milk or hot water, and bind with a beaten egg.

Take out the bone from the meat, and pin securely into a round with skewers; then pass a stout twine several times about the fillet, or a band of muslin. Fill the cavity from which the bone was taken with this stuffing, and thrust between the folds of the meat, besides making incisions with a thin, sharp knife to receive it. Once in a while slip in a strip of fat pork or ham. Baste at first with salt and water, afterward with gravy. At the last, dredge with flour and baste with butter.

Stuff as above, making horizontal incisions near the bone to receive the dressing, and roast in like manner.

Dip in beaten egg when you have sprinkled a little pepper and salt over them; then roll in cracker-crumbs, and fry in hot dripping or lard. If you use butter or dripping, add a little boiling water to the gravy when the meat is dished; thicken with browned flour, boil up once, sending to table in a boat.

You can rub the cutlets well with melted butter, pepper, and broil on a gridiron like beef-steak, butteringverywell after dishing.

Are more juicy and less apt to be tough and solid than cutlets. Trim the bone as with mutton chops, and fry, dipping in beaten egg and cracker-crumbs. Add a little parsley and a minced shallot to the gravy.

This should be thinner than beef-steak, and be done throughout. Few persons are fond of rare veal. Broil upon a well-greased gridiron over a clear fire, and turn frequently while the steaks are cooking. Put into a saucepan four or five young onions minced fine, a great teaspoonful of tomato catsup, or twice the quantity of stewed tomato, a lump of butter the size of an egg, and a little thyme or parsley, with a small teacupful of hot water. Let them stew together while the steaks are broiling, thickening, before you turn the gravy out, with a spoonful of browned flour. Add, if you please, a half-glass of wine. Boil up once hard, and when the steaks are dished, with a small bit of butter upon each, pour the mixture over and around them.

Spinach is as natural an accompaniment to veal as are green peas to lamb.

Let your veal be juicy and not too fat. Take out all the bone, and put with the fat and refuse bits, such as skin or gristle, in a saucepan, with a large teacupful of cold water to make gravy. Instead of chopping the veal, cut in thin, even slices. Line a pudding-dish with a good paste and put a layer of veal in the bottom; then one of hard-boiled eggs sliced, each piece buttered and peppered before it is laid upon the veal; cover these with sliced ham or thin strips of salt pork. Squeeze a few drops of lemon-juice upon the ham. Then another layer of veal, and so on until you are ready for the gravy. This should have been stewing for half an hour or so, with the addition of pepper and a bunch of aromatic herbs. Strain through a thin cloth and pour over the pie. Cover with crust and bake two hours.

Butter a large bowl very thickly, and line with sliced hard-boiled eggs. Then put in, in perpendicular layers, a lining of veal cut in thin slices, and seasoned with pepper. Next, one of sliced ham, each slice peppered and sprinkled with lemon-juice, more veal and more ham, until the dish is packed to the brim. Cover with a thick paste made of flour and hot water, just stiff enough to handle with ease. Press this closely to the outside of the bowl, which should not be at all greasy. Let it overlap the rim about half an inch. Some cooks substitute a cloth well floured, but it does not keep in the essence of the meats as well as the paste. Set the bowl in a pot of hot water, not so deep that it will bubble over the top. It is better that it should not touch the paste rim. Boil steadily—not hard—for at least three hours. Remove the paste the next day, when bowl and contents are perfectly cold, and turn out the pie into a large plate or flat dish. Cut in circular slices—thin as a wafer—beginning at the top, keeping your carver horizontal, and you have a delicious relish for the supper-table, or side-dish for dinner. Set in a cool place, and in winter it will keep several days.

This is the “weal and hammer pie” endorsed by Mr. Wegg as a good thing “for mellering the organ,” and is a great favorite in England. It is a good plan to butter the eggs as well as the dish, as much of the success of the pie depends upon the manner in which it is turned out. Also, upon the close packing of the sliced meat. The salt ham prevents the need of other salt.


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