Stuff, and bind with twine as for roasting. Then cover the top and sides with sliced ham which has been already boiled, securing with skewers, or twine crossing the meat inall directions. Lay in a pot, put in two large cups of boiling water, cover immediately and closely, and stew gently—never letting it cease to boil, yet never boiling hard, for four or five hours. A large fillet will require nearly five hours. Remove the cover as seldom as possible, and only to ascertain whether the water has boiled away. If it is too low, replenish from the boiling kettle. Take off the strings when the meat is done; arrange the ham about the fillet in the dish, and serve a bit with each slice of veal. Strain the gravy, thicken with flour, boil up once, and send in a boat.
Serve with stewed tomatoes and spinach.
Put the meat into a pot with two quarts of boiling water, half a pound of salt pork or ham cut into strips, a carrot, two onions, a bunch of parsley and one of summer savory—all cut fine—two dozen whole pepper-corns, and stew, closely covered, for three hours. When done, take the meat from the pot and lay in the dish. Strain the gravy, thicken with rice-flour, boil up once, and pour over the meat.
Chop some cold roast or stewed veal very fine, put a layer in the bottom of a buttered pudding dish, and season with pepper and salt. Next have a layer of finely powdered crackers. Strew some bits of butter upon it and wet with a little milk; then more veal seasoned as before, and another round of cracker-crumbs, with butter and milk. When the dish is full, wet well with gravy or broth, diluted with warm water. Spread over all a thick layer of cracker seasoned with salt, wet into a paste with milk and bound with a beaten egg or two, if the dish be large. Stick butter-bits thickly over it; invert a tin pan so as tocover all and keep in the steam, and bake—if small, half an hour; three-quarters will suffice for a large dish. Remove the cover ten minutes before it is served, and brown.
This simple and economical dish should be an acquaintance with all who are fond of veal in any shape. Children generally like it exceedingly, and I have heard more than one gentleman of excellent judgment in culinary affairs declare that the best thing he knew about roast veal was that it was the harbinger of scallop on the second day.
Try it, and do not get it too dry.
Mince the veal as above, and roll three or four crackers to powder. Also, chop up some cold ham and mix with the veal in the proportion of one-third ham and two-thirds veal. Then add the cracker, and wet well with gravy and a little milk. If you have no gravy, stir into a cup of hot milk two tablespoonfuls of butter and a beaten egg. Season well to your taste, and bake in pâté pans lined with puff-paste. If eaten hot, send to table in the tins. If cold, slip the pâtés out and pile upon a plate, with sprigs of parsley between. A little oyster liquor is a marked improvement to the gravy.
Wash the head in several waters, and taking out the brains, set them by in a cool place. Tie the head in a floured cloth and boil it two hours in hot water slightly salted. Wash the brains carefully, picking out all the bits of skin and membrane, cleansing them over and over until they are perfectly white. Then stew in just enough water to cover them. Take them out, mash smooth with the back of a wooden spoon, and add gradually, that it may not lump, a small teacupful of the water in which thehead is boiled. Season with chopped parsley, a pinch of sage, pepper, salt, and powdered cloves, with a great spoonful of butter. Set it over the fire to simmer in a saucepan until you are ready. When the head is tender, take it up and drain very dry. Score the top, and rub it well over with melted butter; dredge with flour and set in the oven to brown. Or, you can use beaten egg and cracker-crumbs in place of the butter and flour.
When you serve the head, pour the gravy over it.
Never skin a calf’s-head. Scald as you would that of a pig. A little lye in the water will remove the hair—as will also pounded rosin, applied before it is put into the water.
Clean the head, remove the brains, and set in a cool place. Boil the head until the meat slips easily from the bones. Take it out and chop fine, season with herbs, pepper, and salt; then put in layers into a buttered pudding-dish with bits of butter between each layer. Moisten well with the liquor in which the head was boiled. Wash the brains very thoroughly, removing all the membrane. Beat them into a smooth paste, season with pepper and salt, and stir in with them two eggs beaten very light. Spread this evenly over the scallop, dredge the top with a little flour, and bake to a delicate brown. Half an hour will be long enough.
Wash very carefully, and dry with a linen cloth. Lard with narrow strips of fat salt pork, set closely together. Use for this purpose a larding-needle. Lay the sweet-breads in a clean, hot frying-pan, which has been well buttered or greased, and cook to a fine brown, turning frequently until the pork is crisp.
Parboil, rub them well with butter, and broil on a clean gridiron. Turn frequently, and now and then roll over in a plate containing some hot melted butter. This will prevent them from getting too dry and hard.
When you have washed them, and removed all bits of skin and fatty matter, cover with cold water, and heat to a boil. Pour off the hot water, and cover with cold until the sweet-breads are firm. If you desire to have them very rich, lard as for frying before you put in the second water. They are more delicate, however, if the pork be left out. Stew in a very little water the second time. When they are tender, add for each sweet-bread a heaping teaspoonful of butter, and a little chopped parsley, with pepper, and salt, and a little cream. Let them simmer in this gravy for five minutes, then take them up. Send to table in a covered dish, with the gravy poured over them.
If you lard the sweet-breads, substitute for the cream in the gravy a glass of good wine. In this case, take the sweet-breads out before it is put into the gravy. Boil up once and pour over them.
Parboil and throw into cold water, where let them stand for fifteen minutes. Then change to more cold water for five minutes longer. Wipe perfectly dry. Lay them in your dripping-pan, and roast, basting with butter and water until they begin to brown. Then withdraw them for an instant, roll in beaten egg, then in cracker-crumbs, and return to the fire for ten minutes longer, basting meanwhile twice with melted butter. Lay in a chafing-dishwhile you add to the dripping half a cup hot water, some chopped parsley, a teaspoonful browned flour, and the juice of half a lemon. Pour over the sweet-breads before sending to table.
Wash a knuckle of veal, and cut it into three pieces. Boil it slowly until the meat will slip easily from the bones; take out of the liquor; remove all the bones, and chop the meat fine. Season with salt, pepper, two shallots chopped as fine as possible, mace and thyme, or, if you like, sage. Put back into the liquor, and boil until it is almost dry and can be stirred with difficulty. Turn into a mould until next day. Set on the table cold, garnish with parsley, and cut in slices. The juice of a lemon, stirred in just before it is taken from the fire, is an improvement.
Boil a calf’s-head until tender, the day before you wish to use it. When perfectly cold, chop—not too small—and season to taste with pepper, salt, mace, and the juice of a lemon. Prepare half as much cold ham, fat and lean—also minced—as you have of the chopped calf’s-head. Butter a mould well, and lay in the bottom a layer of the calf’s-head, then one of ham, and so on until the shape is full, pressing each layer hard, when you have moistened it with veal gravy or the liquor in which the head was boiled. Pour more gravy over the top, and when it has soaked in well, cover with a paste made of flour and water. Bake one hour. Remove the paste when it is quite cold, and turn out carefully. Cut perpendicularly.
This is quite as good a relish when made of cold roast or stewed veal and ham. It will keep several days in cool weather.
Cut large, smooth slices from a fillet of veal, or veal chops will do quite as well. Trim them into a uniform shape and size, and spread each neatly with forced-meat made of bread-crumbs and a little chopped pork, seasoned with pepper and salt. Over this spread some chopped oysters, about three to a good-sized slice of veal. Roll them up carefully and closely, and pin each with two small tin or wooden skewers. Lay them in a dripping-pan; dash a teacupful of boiling water over them, and roast, basting at least twice with melted butter. When they are brown, remove to a chafing-dish, and cover, while you add a little oyster-liquor to the gravy left in the dripping-pan. Let this simmer for three or four minutes; thicken with a teaspoonful of browned flour, and boil up at once. Withdraw the skewers cautiously, so as not to break the olives; pour the gravy over and around them, and serve. If you have no skewers, bind the olives with pack-thread, cutting it, of course, before sending to table.
Serve with cranberry jelly.
Take the remains of a cold roast of veal fillet, shoulder, or breast, and cut all the meat from the bones. Put the latter, with the outside slices and the gristly pieces, into a saucepan, with a cup of cold water, some sweet herbs, pepper, and salt. If you have a bit of bacon convenient, or a ham-bone, add this and omit the salt. Stew all together for an hour, then strain, thicken with flour, return to the fire, and boil five minutes longer, stirring in a tablespoonful of butter.
Meanwhile, mince the cold veal, and when the gravy isready put this in a little at a time. Let italmostboil, when add two tablespoonfuls of cream, or three of milk, stirring all the while. Lastly, squeeze in the juice of a lemon, and a moment later half a glass of Sherry or Madeira wine.
The mince-meat should be dry enough to heap into a shape in a flat dish or chafing-dish. Lay triangles of buttered toast about the base of the mound, and on the top a poached egg.
The remains of cold roast beef treated in this manner, substituting for the toast balls of mashed potato, will make a neat and palatable dish.
Send around spinach or stewed tomatoes with minced veal; scraped horseradish steeped in vinegar with the beef.
The cutlets should be nearly three-quarters of an inch thick, and trim in shape. Dip each in beaten egg, then into pounded cracker which has been seasoned with powdered sweet herbs, pepper, and salt. Wrap each cutlet in a half-sheet of note or letter paper, well buttered; lay them upon a buttered gridiron and broil over a clear fire, turning often and dexterously. You can secure the papers by fringing the ends, and twisting these after the cutlets are put in. This is neater than to pin them together. In trying this dish for the first time, have ready a sufficient number of duplicate papers in a clean, hot dish. If your envelopes are much soiled or darkened while the cutlets are broiling, transfer quickly when done to the clean warm ones, twist the ends, and serve. Cutlets prepared in this manner are sent to table in their cloaks, ranged symmetrically upon a hot chafing-dish.
The expedient of the clean papers is a “trick of the trade,” amateur housewives will observe with satisfaction.Epicures profess to enjoy veal cooked in covers far more than when the flavor and juices escape in broiling without them. Empty every drop of gravy from the soiled papers into the clean over the cutlets.
Wash the brains very thoroughly until they are free from membranous matter and perfectly white. Beat them smooth; season with a pinch of powdered sage, pepper, and salt. Add two tablespoonfuls fine bread-crumbs moistened with milk, and a beaten egg. Roll into balls with floured hands, dip in beaten egg, then cracker-crumbs, and fry in butter or veal-drippings.
These make a pleasant accompaniment to boiled spinach. Heap the vegetable in the centre of the dish, arrange the balls about it, and give one to each person who wishes spinach.
Soak the liver in salt and water an hour to draw out the blood. Wipe perfectly dry, and stuff with a force-meat made of bread-crumbs, two slices of fat salt pork, chopped small, a shallot, pepper, salt, and nutmeg; sweet marjoram and thyme, and if you choose, a little sage. Moisten this with butter melted in a very little hot water, and two raw eggs, well beaten. In order to get this into the liver, make an incision with a narrow sharp knife, and without enlarging the aperture where the blade entered, move the point dexterously to and fro, to enlarge the cavity inside. Stuff this full of the force-meat, sew or skewer up the outer orifice; lard with strips of salt pork, and roast for an hour, basting twice with butter and water, afterward with the gravy in the dripping-pan. Pour the gravy over the liver when done.
Roasted liver is very good cold, cut into slices like tongue.
Slice the liver smoothly, and lay in salt and water to draw out the blood. Lard each slice, when you have wiped it dry, with slices of fat salt pork, drawn through at regular distances, and projecting slightly on each side. Lay in a clean frying-pan and fry brown. When done, take out the slices, arrange them neatly on a hot dish, and set aside to keep warm. Add to the gravy in the frying-pan a chopped onion, a half-cup of hot water, pepper, the juice of a lemon, and thicken with brown flour. Boil up well, run through a cullender to remove the onion and the bits of crisped pork that may have been broken off in cooking, pour over the liver, and serve hot.
Pigs’ livers can be cooked in the same way.
Slice the liver and lay in salt and water an hour. Then cut into dice and put over the fire, with enough cold water to cover it well. Cover and stew steadily for an hour, when add salt, pepper, a little mace, sweet marjoram, parsley, and a teaspoonful Worcestershire sauce. Stew again steadily, not fast, for half an hour longer, when put in a tablespoonful of butter, two of browned flour—wet with cold water, a teaspoonful of lemon-juice and one of currant jelly. Boil five minutes longer, and dish. A little wine is an improvement.
Put in with the liver-dice some of salt pork—say a handful—and when you season, a chopped onion, and omit the jelly at the last, substituting some tomato catsup.
Boil a calf’s liver until very tender in water that has been slightly salted, and in another vessel a nice calf’s tongue. It is best to do this the day before you make yourpâté, as they should be not only cold, but firm when used. Cut the liver into bits, and rub these gradually to a smooth paste in a Wedgewood mortar, moistening, as you go on, with melted butter. Work into this paste, which should be quite soft, a quarter-teaspoonful of cayenne pepper, or twice the quantity of white or black, half a grated nutmeg, a little cloves, a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce, salt to taste, a full teaspoonful of made mustard, and a tablespoonful of boiling water, in which a minced onion has been steeped until the flavor is extracted. Work all together thoroughly, and pack in jelly-jars with air-tight covers, or, if you have them, inpâté-jars. They give a foreign air to the compound, and aid imagination in deceiving the palate. Butter the inside of the jars well, and pack thepâtévery hard, inserting here and there square and triangular bits of the tongue, which should be pared and cut up for this purpose. These simulate the truffles imbedded in the genuinepâtésfrom Strasbourg. When the jar is packed, and smooth as marble on the surface, cover with melted butter. Let this harden, put on the lid, and set away in a cool place. In winter it will keep for weeks, and is very nice for luncheon or tea. Make into sandwiches, or set on in the jars, if they are neat and ornamental.
The resemblance in taste to the realpâté de foie grasis remarkable, and the domestic article is popular with the lovers of that delicacy. Pigs’ livers make a very fairpâté. If you can procure the livers of several fowls and treat as above, substituting bits of the inside of the gizzard for truffles, you will find the result even more satisfactory.
Boil a beef-tongue the day before it is to be used, and a like number of pounds of lean veal. Grind first one, then the other, in a sausage-cutter, keeping them in separate vessels until you are ready to pack. If you have no machine for this purpose, chopveryfine. Season the tongue with pepper, powdered sweet herbs, a teaspoonful of made mustard, a little nutmeg, and cloves—just a pinch of each; the veal in like manner, with the addition of salt. Pack in alternate spoonfuls, as irregularly as possible, in cups, bowls, or jars, which have been well buttered. Press very hard as you go on, smooth the top, and cover with melted butter. When this cools, close the cans, and keep in a cool, dry place. Turn out whole, or cut in slices for tea. It is a pretty and savory relish, garnished with parsley or the blanched tops of celery.
You can use ground ham instead of tongue. It is hardly so good, but is more economical.
At the South, where, in spite of the warm climate, the consumption of pork is double that of the North, the full-grown hog is seldom represented by any of his parts at the table, fresh or pickled, unless it be during killing-time, when fresh spare-ribs, chine, and steak, with other succulent bits, are welcome upon the choicest bills of fare. The rest of the animal—ham, shoulders, and middlings—is consigned to the packing barrel, and ultimately to the smoke-house. But, in cool weather, “shoat”—i. e., pig under six months of age—is abundantly displayed in market, and highly esteemed by all classes. The meat is fine andsweet, and, unless too fat, nearly as delicate as that of chicken—a very different-looking and tasting dish from the gross oleaginous joints and “chunks” offered for sale in many other regions as “nice young pork.” Those of my readers who can command “shoat” are to be heartily congratulated. Those whose butchers dispense only portions of the mature porker will do well, in my opinion, if they rarely admit him to their families before he has been salted, and been thereby purged of many unwholesome properties. Few stomachs, save those of out-door laborers, can digest the fresh meat of a two or three, or even one year old hog. This is the truthful, but, to unaccustomed ears, offensive name for him at the South and West, where his qualities and habits are best known.
The parts of a properly dissected hog are the hams, shoulders, griskin or chine, the loin, middlings, spare-ribs, head, feet, liver, and haslet. The choice portions are hams, shoulders, and, for roasting, the loin. All hogs should be kept up and well fed for three weeks, at least, before they are killed; their styes be frequently cleaned, and furnished with abundance of water, renewed every day. Sir Grunter would be a more cleanly creature if he were allowed more extensive water privileges. If it were possible—and in the country this may sometimes be done—to build his pen on the bank of a running stream, he would speedily redeem his character from the stain cast upon it by the popular verdict, and the superior quality of the meat repay the thoughtful kindness of his owner. It is a disgrace to humanity, hardly second to the barbarities of swill-milk manufactories, this compulsory filth of any domestic animal. Those who, like myself, have been loathing witnesses of the pig-pens upon the premises of well-to-do farmers—the receptacles of the vilest slops and offal, never cleaned except during the yearly removal of manure from barnyardto field—cannot marvel at the growing prejudice against pork in all its varieties that pervades our best classes. We feed the hog with the offscourings (this is literal) of house, garden, and table; bed him in mire, and swell him with acetous fermentation, not to say active decomposition, and then abuse him for being what we have made him. I am persuaded—and wiser people than I declare—that hog-scrofula and cholera, and the rest of the train of fleshly ills that are the terror of pork-raisers, have, one and all, their root in this unseemly inhumanity. Eschew fresh pork we may, but we cannot dispense with hams, shoulders, and, most valuable of all to the cook, lard and pickled pork. Real sausage, porcine and home-made, is still sweet and pleasant to the unpampered palate; and of roast pig, the gentlest and most genial of English essayists did not disdain to become the eulogist. In memory of his usefulness, in belief of the healthfulness which should be his birthright, and the safeguard of his consumers, let us treat Bristle well—I do not say philosophically, but sensibly and kindly.
A pig should not be allowed to eat anything for twenty-four hours before he is killed. After he is butchered, great care should be exercised to keep the pork from tainting; it spoils more readily, when fresh, than any other meat. Cook all kinds of pork thoroughly. When underdone it is not only unpalatable, but exceedingly unwholesome.
One weighing about seven pounds is enough, even for a large family. If the pig be young, the leg will be even smaller. Score the skin in squares, or parallel lines running from side to side, for the convenience of the carver. Put it down to roast with averylittle water in the pan below.Heat gradually until the fat begins to ooze from the meat, when quicken the fire to a red, steady glow. Baste only with its own gravy, and do this often, that the skin may not be hard or tough. When done take it up, skim the gravy thoroughly, put in half a cup of boiling water, thicken with brown flour, add pepper, salt, and the juice of a lemon, and serve in a boat.
If the joint be that of a full-grown hog, rub into the top, after scoring it deeply, a force-meat of bread-crumbs seasoned with sage and chopped onion, wet with the juice of a lemon or a very little vinegar; pepper and salt to taste. Rub this in hard until the cracks are filled. With a sharp knife make incisions close to the knuckle-bone, and stuff with the force-meat, tying a string tightly about it afterward, to prevent the escape of the seasoning. Rub over once with butter, when the meat is warm throughout; then baste with the fat. Skim all the fat from the drippings that can be removed before making the gravy.
Send around tomato or apple sauce, and pickles, with roast pork.
Cook as you would a leg, allowing twenty minutes to a pound in roasting. This is a good rule for fresh pork, the flesh being coarser and of closer grain than are more delicate meats.
A shoulder is roasted in the same way.
When first put down to the fire, cover with a greased paper until it is half-done. Remove it then, and dredge with flour. A few minutes later, baste once with butter, and afterward, every little while, with its own gravy.This is necessary, the spare-rib being a very dry piece. Just before you take it up, strew over the surface thickly with fine bread-crumbs seasoned with powdered sage, pepper, and salt, and a small onion minced into almost invisible bits. Let it cook five minutes and baste once more with butter. Skim the gravy, add a half cupful of hot water, thicken with brown flour, squeeze in the juice of a lemon, strain, and pour over the meat in the dish.
Send tomato catsup around with it, or if you prefer, put a liberal spoonful in the gravy, after it is strained.
A chine is treated precisely as is the spare-rib, except that the strip of skin running along the back is scored closely. If you wish, you can omit the bread-crumb crust, the onion and sage. In carving, cut thin horizontal slices from the ribs. Chine is best cold. The meat next the ribs is delicious when scraped off and made into sandwiches, or laid upon buttered toast.
You can wash the chine over with beaten egg, dredge with cracker-crumbs, seasoned with salt and pepper, and roast, basting with butter and water once when the meat is heated through, afterward with its own gravy. This is a palatable supper-dish when cold. Garnish with cucumber pickles cut in round slices.
A month-old pig, if it be well-grown and plump, is best for this purpose. It is hardly possible that any lady-housekeeper will ever be called upon to do the butcher’s work upon the bodies of full-grown hogs, or even “shoat”—a task that requires the use of hatchet or cleaver. It is well that she should know how to clean and dress thebaby pig, which is not larger than a Thanksgiving turkey.
As soon as it is really cold, make ready a large boiler of scalding water. Lay the pig in cold water for fifteen minutes; then, holding it by the hind-leg, plunge it into the boiling water, and shake it about violently until you can pull the hair off by the handful. Take it out, wipe it dry, and with a crash cloth or whisk broom rub the hair off, brushing from the tail to the head, until the skin is perfectly clean. Cut it open, take out the entrails, and wash very thoroughly with cold water, then with soda and water, to remove any unpleasant odor; next with salt and water. Rinse with fair water and wipe inside. Then wrap in a wet cloth, and keep this saturated with cold water until you are ready to stuff it. If these directions be followed implicitly, the pig will be fair and white, as if intrusted to a professional butcher.
For stuffing, take a cupful of bread-crumbs, half a chopped onion, two teaspoonfuls powdered sage, three tablespoonfuls melted butter, a saltspoonful of pepper, half a grated nutmeg, half a teaspoonful of salt, two well-beaten eggs. Mix all these ingredients, except the egg, together, incorporating them well; beat in the eggs, and stuff the pig into his natural size and shape. Sew him up, and bend his fore-feet backward, his hind-feet forward, under and close to the body, and skewering them into the proper position. Dry it well, and dredge with flour. Put it to roast with a little hot water, slightly salted, in the dripping-pan. Baste with butter and water three times, as the pig gradually warms, afterward with the dripping. When it begins to smoke or steam, rub it over every five minutes or so, with a cloth dipped in melted butter. Do not omit this precaution if you would have the skin tender and soft after it begins to brown. A month-old pig willrequire about an hour and three-quarters or two hours—sometimes longer—to roast, if the fire be brisk and steady.
Should you or your guests dislike onion, prepare your stuffing without it. The following is a good receipt for rich and savory force-meat for a pig:—
One cup of bread-crumbs, an ounce of suet, a bunch of parsley minced fine, teaspoonful of powdered sage, pepper, salt, and nutmeg, a little thyme, half a glass Madeira or Sherry, juice of a lemon, two tablespoonfuls melted butter, a cup of oyster-liquor, and two well-beaten eggs. For a Christmas pig, it is worth one’s while to take the trouble to prepare this stuffing.
If your pig is large, you can cut off his head and split him down the back before sending to table. Do this with a sharp knife, and lay the backs together. But it is a pity! I have before me now the vision of a pig I once saw served whole on the table of a friend, that forbids me ever to mutilate him before the guests have a chance to feast their eyes upon the goodly picture. He was done to a turn—a rich, even brown, without a seam or crack from head to tail, and he knelt in a bed of deep-green parsley, alternately with bunches of whitish-green celery tops (the inner and tender leaves); a garland of the same was about his neck, and in his mouth was a tuft of white cauliflower, surrounded by a setting of curled parsley. Very simple, you see; but I never beheld a more ornamental roast.
Skim your gravy well; add a little hot water, thicken with brown flour, boil up once, strain, and, when you have added half a glass of wine and half the juice of a lemon, serve in a tureen.
In carving the pig, cut off the head first; then split down the back, take off hams and shoulders, and separate the ribs. Serve some of the dressing to each person.
I have been thus minute in describing the preparation of this holiday dish, because it is erroneously considered a difficult task. Any cook with a moderate degree of judgment and experience can undertake it with a reasonable expectation of success.
Those from the loin are best, but they can be cut from the neck. Remove the skin and trim neatly. Broil over a clear fire, without seasoning, adding pepper, salt, a pinch of sage, another of minced onion, and a lump of butter after they are put into the hot dish. Then cover closely and set in the oven for five minutes, until the aroma of the condiments flavors the meat. Try this method. You can cook spare-rib in the same manner.
Remove the skin, trim them, and dip first in beaten egg, then in cracker-crumbs seasoned with salt, pepper, minced onion, and a little sage. Fry in hot lard or drippings twenty or thirty minutes, turning often. The gravy of this dish is usually too rich or fat to accompany the meat.
Pork cutlets are cooked in like manner. Send apple-sauce to the table with them, and season with tomato catsup.
Take some lean slices from the leg, or bits left from trimming the various pieces into shape. Cut into dice an inch square, put into a pot with enough cold water to cover them, and stew gently for three-quarters of an hour, closely covered. Meanwhile parboil half a dozen Irish potatoes, cut in thick slices, in another vessel. When the pork has stewed the allotted time, drain off the water from these and add to the meat. Season with pepper,salt, a minced shallot, a spoonful of pungent catsup, and a bunch of aromatic herbs. Cover again, and stew twenty minutes longer, or until the meat is tender throughout.
If your meat be not too fat, this stew will be very good, especially on a cold day.
You can stew cutlets in the same way.
Take the head of a half-grown pig; clean and split it, taking out the brains and setting these aside in a cool place. Parboil the head in salted water, drain off this, wipe the head dry, and wash all over with beaten egg; dredge thickly with bread-crumbs, seasoned with pepper, sage, and onion, and roast, basting twice with butter and water; then with the liquor in which the head was boiled; at last with the gravy that runs from the meat. Wash the brains in several waters until they are white; beat to a smooth paste, add one-quarter part fine bread-crumbs, pepper, and salt; make into balls, binding with a beaten egg; roll in flour and fry in hot fat to a light brown. Arrange about the head when it is dished. Skim the gravy left in the dripping-pan, thicken with brown flour, add the juice of a lemon, and boil up once. Pour it over the head.
Clean and split the head, taking out the brains and setting aside. Put the head in a pot with water enough to cover it and parboil it. Have ready another pot with the liver and heart, cut into inch-long pieces, stewed in just enough water to keep them from scorching. When the head is half-done, add the entire contents of the second vessel to the first, and season with salt, pepper, a little onion, parsley, and sage. Cover and stew until the head is very tender, when take it out and lay it in themiddle of a flat dish. With a perforated skimmer remove the liver and heart and spread about the head, surrounding, but not covering it. Strain the gravy and return to the pot, thicken with brown flour, squeeze in the juice of a lemon, and drop in carefully force-meat balls of the brains, prepared according to the foregoing receipt and fried a light brown. Boil once and pour about the head, arranging the balls upon it, to cover the split between the two sides of the head.
You may improve this dish, which is very savory, by boiling a couple of pigs’ feet with the head until the meat will slip from the bones. Take them from the liquor, cut off and chop the meat, and put into the large pot when you add the liver, etc.
Clean the ears and feet well; cover them with cold water slightly salted, and boil until tender. Pack in stone jars while hot, and cover while you make ready the pickle. To half a gallon of good cider vinegar allow half a cup of white sugar, three dozen whole black peppers, a dozen blades of mace, and a dozen cloves. Boil this one minute, taking care that it really boils, and pour while hot over the still warm feet and ears. It will be ready to use in two days, and will keep in a cool, dry place two months.
If you wish it for breakfast, make a batter of one egg, one cup of milk, salt to taste, and a teaspoonful of butter, with enough flour for a thin muffin-batter; dip each piece in this, and fry in hot lard or dripping. Or dip each in beaten egg, then in pounded cracker, before frying.
Souse is also good eaten cold, especially the feet.
This is made of the head, ears and tongue. Boil them in salted water until very tender. Strip the meat fromthe bones and chop fine. Season with salt, pepper, sage, sweet marjoram, a little powdered cloves, and half a cup of strong vinegar. Mix all together thoroughly, taste to see that it is flavored sufficiently, remembering that the spice tends to keep it, and pack hard in moulds or bowls, interspersing the layers with bits of the tongue cut in oblongs, squares and triangles not less than an inch in length. Press down and keep the meat in shape by putting a plate on the top of each mould (first wetting the plate) and a weight upon this. In two days the cheese will be ready for use. Turn out from the shapes as you wish to use it; or, should you desire to keep it several weeks, take the cheese from the moulds and immerse in cold vinegar in stone jars. This will preserve it admirably, and you have only to pare away the outside, should it be too acid for your taste.
This is generally eaten cold for tea, with vinegar and mustard; but it is very nice cut in slices, seasoned slightly with mustard, and warmed in a frying-pan with enough butter to prevent burning. Or, you may dip in beaten egg, then cracker-crumbs, and fry for breakfast.
If the tongue is arranged judiciously the slices will be prettily marbled.
You can make this of lean pork cut from any part of the pig, but the chine is best. Crack the bones well, and cut up the chine intoriblettestwo inches long. Line your pot, which should be round at the bottom and well greased, with a good light paste; put in the meat, then a layer of parboiled potatoes, split in half, seasoning with pepper and salt as you go on. When the pot is nearly full, pour in a quart of cold water and put on the upper crust, cutting a small round hole out of the middle, through which you can add hot water should the gravy boil awaytoo fast. Slips of paste may also be strewed among the meat and potatoes. Put on the pot-lid, and boil from one hour and a half to two hours. When done, remove the upper crust carefully, turn out the meat and gravy into a bowl, that you may get at the lower. Lay this upon a hot dish, put the meat, etc., in order upon it, pour the gravy over it, and cover with the top crust. This can be browned with a red-hot shovel, or oven-lid.
Cut two or three pounds of lean fresh pork into strips as long and as wide as your middle finger. Line a buttered dish with puff-paste; put in a layer of pork seasoned with pepper, salt, and nutmeg or mace; next a layer of juicy apples, sliced and covered with about an ounce of white sugar; then more pork, and so on until you are ready for the paste cover, when pour in half a pint of sweet cider or wine, and stick bits of butter all over the top. Cover with a thick lid of puff-paste, cut a slit in the top, brush over with beaten egg, and bake an hour and a half.
This is an English dish, and is famous in the region from which it takes its name. It is much liked by those who have tried it, and is considered by some to be equal to our mince-pie.
Yorkshire pork-pie is made in the same way, with the omission of the apples, sugar, and nutmeg, and the addition of sage to the seasoning.
Grind the meat, fat and lean, in a sausage-mill, or chop it very fine. The mill is better, and the grinding does not occupy one-tenth of the time that chopping does, to say nothing of the labor. One can be bought for three or four dollars, and will well repay the purchaser. Mix the seasoning in with your hands, taste to be sure all is right, and pack down in stone jars, pouring melted lard on top. Another good way of preserving them is, to make long, narrow bags of stout muslin, large enough to contain, each, enough sausage for a family dish. Fill these with the meat, dip in melted lard, and hang from the beams of the cellar.
If you wish to pack in the intestines of the hog, they should be carefully prepared as follows: Empty them, cut them in lengths, and lay for two days in salt and water. Turn them inside out, and lay in soak one day longer. Scrape them, rinse well in soda and water, wipe, and blow into one end, having tied up the other with a bit of twine. If they are whole and clear, stuff with the meat; tie up and hang in the store-room or cellar.
These are fried in the cases, in a clean, dry frying-pan, until brown. If you have the sausage-meat in bulk, make into small, round flat cakes, and fry in the same way. Some dip in egg and pounded cracker—others roll in flour before cooking. Their own fat will cook them. Send to table dry and hot, but do not let them fry hard. When one side is done, turn the other. The fire should be very brisk. Ten minutes, or twelve at the outside, is long enough to cook them.
Grind and season as directed in No. 1.
This will not keep so long as that made according to the former receipt, but is very good for immediate family use.
Stuff in cases. This is very fine.
Chop or grind the meat, and mix the seasoning well through it. Pack it in beef-skins (or entrails) prepared as you do those of pork. In the city, you can have these cleaned by your butcher, or get them ready for use from a pork merchant. Tie both ends tightly, and lay them in brine strong enough to bear up an egg. Let them be in this for a week; change the brine, and let them remain in this a week longer. Turn them over every day of the fortnight. Then take them out, wipe them, and send them to be smoked, if you have no smoke-house of your own. When well smoked, rub them over with sweet oil or fresh butter, and hang them in a cool, dark place.
Bologna sausage is sometimes eaten raw, but the dread of the fataltrichinæshould put at end to this practice, did not common sense teach us that it must be unwholesome, no less than disgusting. Cut in round, thick slices, and toast on a gridiron, or fry in their own fat. If you mean to keep it some time, rub over the skins with pepper to keep away insects.
Chop or grind the meat and suet; season, and stuff into beef-skins; tie these up; prick each in several places to allow the escape of the steam; put into hot—not boiling water, and heat gradually to the boiling-point. Cook slowly for one hour; take out the skins and lay them to dry in the sun, upon clean, sweet straw or hay. Rub the outside of the skins with oil or melted butter, and hang in a cool, dry cellar. If you mean to keep it more than a week, rub pepper or powdered ginger upon the outside. You can wash it off before sending to table. This is eaten without further cooking. Cut in round slices, and lay sliced lemon around the edge of the dish, as many like to squeeze a few drops upon the sausage before eating.
Every housekeeper knows how unfit for really nice cooking is the pressed lard sold in stores as the “best and cheapest.” It is close and tough, melts slowly, and is sometimes diversified by fibrous lumps. And even when lard has been “tried out” by the usual process, it is often mixed with so much water as to remind us unpleasantly that it is bought by weight.
The best way of preparing the “leaf lard,” as it is called, is to skin it carefully, wash, and let it drain; then put it, cut into bits, into a large, clean tin kettle or bucket, and set this in a pot of boiling water. Stir from time to time until it is melted; throw in a very little salt, to make the sediment settle; and when it is hot—(it should not boil fast at any time, but simmer gently until clear)—strainthrough a close cloth into jars. Do not squeeze the cloth so long as the clear fat will run through, and when you do, press the refuse into a different vessel, to be used for commoner purposes than the other.
Most of the lard in general use is, however, made from the fatty portions of pork lying next the skin of the hog, and are left for this purpose by the butcher. Scrape from the rind, and cut all into dice. Fill a large pot, putting in a teacupful of water to prevent scorching, and melt very slowly, stirring every few minutes. Simmer until there remains nothing of the meat but fibrous bits. Remove these carefully with a perforated skimmer; throw in a little salt, to settle the fat, and when it is clear strain through a fine cullender, a sieve, or a coarse cloth. Dip the latter in boiling water, should it become clogged by the cooling lard. Observe the directions about squeezing the strainer. If your family is small, bear in mind that the lard keeps longer in small than large vessels. Set away the jars, closely covered, in a cool, dry cellar or store-room.
In trying out lard, the chief danger is of burning. Simmer gently over a steady fire, and give it your whole attention until it is done. A moment’s neglect will ruin all. Stir very often—almost constantly at the last—and from the bottom, until the salt is thrown in to settle it, when withdraw to a less hot part of the fire. Bladders tied over lard jars are the best protection; next to these, paper, and outside of this, cloths dipped in melted grease.
Clean and wash the head, and stew with the beef in enough cold water to cover. When the bones will slip out easily, remove them, after draining off the liquor. Chop the meat finely while it is hot, season, and pour all into a mould, wet inside with cold water. If you can have a tin mould made in the shape of a boar’s head, your brawn will look well at a Christmas feast.
Soak the head twelve hours, and lay in a strong brine, with a tablespoonful of saltpetre. Let it lie three days in this; rinse; then boil it until you can draw out the bones. Do this very carefully from the back and under-side of the head, breaking the outline of the top as little as possible. Chop the meat of the feet and ears, which should have been boiled with the head, season to taste with the spices I have indicated (tastes vary in these matters), beat in the brains, or two tablespoonfuls of melted butter. Fill up the hollows left by the removal of the bones with this mixture. Tie in a flannel cloth, sewing this tightly into the shape of the head; boil an hour and a quarter, andset aside to drain and cool. Do not remove the cloth until next day. This will be found very nice.
Lay the meat, which should be young pork, in a brine of salt and water, with a tablespoonful of saltpetre, and leave it for three days. Dry and mince it, season, and add the grated bread. Stuff in skins, and bake, closely covered, in an oven for half an hour. Or, what is better, steam over boiling water one hour.
Eat either hot or cold.
Hams, shoulders, chines, and “middlings,” are the parts of the hog which are usually pickled. This should be done as soon as may be after the meat is fairly cold—especially in moderate weather. When you can pack down pork, within twenty-four hours after butchering, it is best to do so, unless the cold be severe enough to preserve it longer.
Put into a large saucepan and boil for half an hour,skimming off the scum. When cold, pour over the meat, and let it lie for a few days.
This is intended to corn a small quantity of meat for family use.
Pulverize and mix the seasoning, with the exception of the two quarts of salt, using the one pint only. Rub the meatwellall over, and lay upon boards on the cellar-floor for twenty-four hours. Then, put a few clean stones in the bottom of a barrel; lay sticks across these, that the meat may not soak in the liquor that drains from it. Pack the meat in layers, strewing between these the remaining two quarts of salt. Let it lie in the cask for fifteen or sixteen days, every day during this time tipping the cask to drain off the liquor, or drawing it through a bung-hole near the bottom. Pour this back in cupfuls over the meat.
If you do not mean to smoke the meat, take it out at the end of the fortnight, rub each piece well over with dry salt, and return to the barrel. If the liquor does not cover it, make fresh brine in the proportion of two pounds of salt, a quarter of an ounce of saltpetre, and a quart of water, and pour in when you have boiled it half an hour and let it cool. Lay a round piece of board upon the upper layer and keep this down with stones. Examine from time to time, to be sure the meat is keeping well. Should it seem likely to taint, throw away the pickle, rub each piece over with dry salt, and pack anew. Pork pickled in this way will keep two years.
Having pickled your hams with the rest of your pork as just directed, take them, after the lapse of sixteen days, from the packing barrel, with the shoulders and jowls. At the South they empty the cask, and consign the “whole hog” to the smoke-house. Wash off the pickle, and, while wet, dip in bran. Some use saw-dust, but it is not so good. Others use neither, only wipe the meat dry and smoke. The object in dipping in bran or saw-dust is to form a crust which prevents the evaporation of the juices. Be sure that it is well covered with the bran, then hang in the smoke, the hock end downward. Keep up a good smoke, by having the fire partially smothered with hickory chips and saw dust, for four weeks, taking care the house does not become hot. Take down the meat, brush off the bran, examine closely, and if you suspect insects, lay it in the hot sun for a day or two.
The various ways of keeping hams—each strongly recommended by those who have practised it—are too numerous to mention here. Some pack in wood ashes; others, in dry oats; others, in bran. But the best authorities discard packing altogether. I will name one or two methods which I know have been successful. “I hang mine on hooks from wires, at the top of my granary, which is tight and dark,” says an excellent judge and manufacturer of hams. “They are good and sweet when a year old.” Another admirable housekeeper covers with brown paper, then with coarse muslin stitched tightly and fitting closely, then whitewashes. But for the paper, the lime would be apt to eat away the grease. Still another covers with muslin, and coats with a mixture of bees-wax and rosin. There is no doubt that the covers are an excellent precaution—provided always, that the insects havenot already deposited their eggs in the meat. The bran coating tends to prevent this.
I have eaten ham twenty years old in Virginia, which had been kept sweet inslakedashes. Unslaked will act like lime upon the fat.
Soak in water over night. Next morning wash hard with a coarse cloth or stiff brush, and put on to boil with plenty of cold water. Allow a quarter of an hour to each pound in cooking, and do not boil too fast. Do not remove the skin until cold; it will come off easily and cleanly then, and the juices are better preserved than when it is stripped hot. Send to table with dots of pepper or dry mustard on the top, a tuft of fringed paper twisted about the shank, and garnish with parsley.
Cut very thin in carving.
Brush the ham—a cold boiled one, from which the skin has been taken—well, all over with beaten egg. To a cup of powdered cracker allow enough rich milk or cream to make into a thick paste, salt, and work in a teaspoonful of melted butter. Spread this evenly a quarter of an inch thick over the ham, and set to brown in a moderate oven.
This is by far the best way of cooking a ham. Lay in cold water for twelve hours; wash very thoroughly, rubbing with a stiff brush, to dislodge the salt and smoke on the outside. Put into a steamer, cover closely, and set it over a pot of boiling water. Allow at least twenty minutes to a pound. Keep the water at a hard boil.
If you serve ham hot, skin, and immediately strewthickly with cracker or bread-crumbs, to prevent the waste of the essence. Put a frill of paper about the knuckle. Send around cabbage or other green vegetables with it.
Soak for twelve hours. Trim away the rusty part from the under side and edges, wipe very dry, cover the bottom with a paste made of flour and hot water, and lay it upside down in the dripping-pan, with water enough to keep it from burning. Bake five hours, or allow fully twenty-five minutes to a pound. Baste now and then, to prevent the crust from cracking and scaling off. When done, peel off this and the skin, and glaze as you would a cold ham.
Put cut paper about the knuckle, and garnish with parsley and sliced red beet—pickled.
Soak for two days in lukewarm water, changing at least six times a day. Take it out, wash very well, scrubbing the under part hard, and trimming away the black and rusty edges. Skin with care, lest you mangle the meat and spoil the symmetry of the shape. Lay in a dish and sponge with a cloth dipped in a mixture of wine, vinegar, sugar, and mustard—about a tablespoonful of white sugar, a saltspoonful of made mustard, and a glass of wine to half a gill of vinegar. Do this at intervals of an hour, washing every part of the ham well, all day and until bed-time. Renew the process next morning until six hours before you need the meat. Put it upon the spit or in the dripping-pan, with a cup of hot water to prevent burning. Add to the mixture—or what is left of it in the dish—a cupful of boiling water. Keep this on the stove and baste continually with it until the liquor flows freely from the ham as it cooks; then substitute the gravy. When done (you must test with a fork), cover with cracker-crumbs,worked to a paste with milk, butter, and a beaten egg, and return to the oven to brown.
Skim the gravy; add a glass of good wine, a tablespoonful of catsup,—walnut, if you have it,—the juice of a lemon, and a little nutmeg. Boil up, and send to table in a boat.
Troublesome as the mode of cooking it may seem, roast ham is so delicious—especially when cold—as fully to recompense the housekeeper who may be tempted to try it.
Cut in slices. Wash well, and soak in scalding water in a covered vessel for half an hour. Pour off the water, and add more boiling water. Wipe dry when the ham has stood half an hour in the second water, and lay in cold for five minutes. Wipe again and broil over (or under) a clear fire.
Cold boiled ham, that is not too much done, is better for broiling than raw. Pepper before serving.
If your ham is raw, soak as above directed; then lay the slices flat in a frying-pan; pepper each and lay upon it a quarter of a teaspoonful of made mustard. Pour about them some vinegar, allowing half a teaspoonful to each slice. Fry quickly and turn often. When done to a fine brown, transfer to a hot dish: add to the gravy in the pan half a glass of wine and a very small teaspoonful of white sugar. Boil up and pour over the meat.
Underdone ham is nice barbecued.
If raw, soak as for broiling. Cook in a hot frying-pan turning often until done. Serve with or without thegravy, as you please. In some parts of the country it is customary to take the meat first from the pan, and add to the gravy a little cream, then thicken with flour. Boil up once and pour over the ham. A little chopped parsley is a pleasant addition to this gravy.
You may dip some slices of cold boiled ham—cut rather thick—in beaten egg, then in cracker-crumbs, and fry them in fat extracted from some bits of salt pork. Take the dry fried pork from the pan before putting in the ham. Garnish with crisped parsley.
Cut some slices of bread in a neat shape, and trim off the crust, unless it is very tender. Butter them and lay between every two some thin slices of cold boiled ham. Spread the meat with a little mustard if you like.
Ground ham makes delicious sandwiches. Cut the bread very thin, and butter well. Put in a good layer of ham, and press the two sides of the sandwiches firmly, but gently, together. Then roll lengthwise, and pile in a plate or basket.
Mince some cold roast chicken, and a like quantity of cold boiled ham. Put the mixture into a saucepan, with enough gravy—chicken or veal—to make a soft paste. If you have no gravy, use a little hot water, a few spoonfuls of cream, and a fair lump of butter. Season with pepper to your taste. Stir while it heats almost to boiling, working it very smooth. In about five minutes after it begins to smoke, take from the fire and spread in a dish to cool. With a good-sized cake-cutter, or a plain thin-edged tumbler, cut some rounds of cold bread, and butter one sideof each. Sprinkle the buttered sides with grated cheese, and, when the chicken is cold, put a layer between these.
These sandwiches are simple and very good.
Cut up and parboil a tender young chicken—a year old is best. Line a deep dish with a good pie-crust. Cut some thin slices of cold boiled ham, and spread a layer next the crust; then arrange pieces of the fowl upon the ham. Cover this, in turn, with slices of hard-boiled eggs, buttered and peppered. Proceed in this order until your materials are used up. Then pour in enough veal or chicken gravy to prevent dryness. Unless you have put in too much water for the size of the fowl, the liquor in which the chicken was boiled is best for this purpose. Bake one hour and a quarter for a large pie.
Cut your slices of ham of a uniform size and shape. Fry quickly, and take them out of the pan as soon as they are done. Have the eggs ready, and drop them, one at a time, in the hissing fat. Have a large pan for this purpose, that they may not touch and run together. In three minutes they will be done. The meat should be kept hot, and when the eggs are ready, lay one upon each slice of ham, which should have been cut the proper size for this. Do not use the gravy.
Parboil a piece of the middling of salt pork, and score the skin. Allow a pound to a quart of dried beans, which must be soaked over night in lukewarm water. Change this twice for more and warmer water, and in the morning put them on to boil in cold. When they are soft, drainoff the liquor, put the beans in a deep dish, and half-bury the pork in the middle, adding a very little warm water. Bake a nice brown.
This is a favorite dish with New England farmers and many others. Although old-fashioned, it still makes its weekly appearance upon the tables of hundreds of well-to-do families.
Soak the pork, which should not be a fat piece, over night in cold water; and in another pan a quart of dried split peas. In the morning put on the peas to boil slowly until tender. Drain and rub through a cullender; season with pepper and salt, and mix with them two tablespoonfuls of butter and two beaten eggs. Beat all well together. Have ready a floured pudding-cloth, and put the pudding into it. Tie it up, leaving room for swelling; put on in warm, not hot water, with the pork, and boil them together an hour. Lay the pork in the centre of the dish, turn out the pudding, slice and arrange about the meat.