2 July 1881 - 'How to Make Clear Soup' by Phillis Browne

Having prepared our stock, strained it overnight, and left it in an uncovered vessel in a cool larder, the next question we have to ask ourselves is, "What shall we do with it?"

There is no room for doubt here, no matter how we may proceed afterwards. The first thing to be done is to clear away the fat, which will have settled in a cake on the top of the stock. If the stock is a jelly, we may take this off more easily if we use a metal spoon which has first been dipped into hot water, and after we have taken off as much fat as we can in this way, we must wipe the jelly and the basin with the corner of a napkin which has been wrung out in hot water.

It is said that people learned in cookery know of five hundred different kinds of soup. If this be true, it is probable that a large proportion of these soups are so much like each other that ordinary people could not discover the points of difference between them. It is also probable that a goodly number are made of clear soup. Besides, cooks who can make good clear soup can make all kinds of soup; and therefore we will begin our lesson now by describing the process of clarification.

Soup is sometimes made clear with white of egg, and sometimes with raw lean meat, beef, or veal, the medium in each case being the same – albumen.

I daresay you remember that when we were talking about boiling meat we said that we put meat which was to be eaten into boiling water for two or three minutes, in order that the albumen might harden on the outside and form a sort of shield to keep in the goodness of the meat. When we boil the raw meat in the stock the albumen hardens as before, but being mixed with the liquid it takes the impurities contained there with it, and all are collected in a mass together, and can be strained away.

We must not suppose, however, that it makes no difference whether we use white of eggs or lean meat in clarifying soup. Lean meat enriches soup, white of egg impoverishes it; and it is more profitable to clarify weak stock with lean meat than it is to clarify strong stock with white of egg.

As to the quantity of meat to be used for clarification, that must depend on the weight of meat employed in making the stock, not upon the measure of liquor which we have at our disposal. The proportion of meat needed for clarification is half a pound of lean meat for every two and a half pounds of meat used in making the stock, and the quantity of lean meat needed would be no less if in making the stock we had used half a  pint only of water to the pound of meat. Indeed, if the liquid were very strong we should find it an advantage to mix about a teaspoonful of white of egg with the raw meat, because strong liquids are more difficult to clarify than thin ones.

We will, therefore, suppose that we have stock made with two pounds and a half of meat, and that we are going to clarify it with half a pound of lean meat freed entirely from fat and skin. How should we proceed?

We must first cut the meat into very small pieces (if we have such a thing we may pass it through the sausage machine instead), and put with it a carrot, a turnip, and the white part of a good-sized leek, or, wanting this, an onion, but a leek is much the more delicate in flavour of the two. Of course we must wash the vegetables, scrape the carrot, and cut the turnip and the leek into small pieces. We may add also a stick of celery, half a bay leaf, a sprig of thyme and parsley, and half a dozen peppercorns.

We now pour the stock, already freed from fat, very steadily into a perfectly clean saucepan, being careful always not to disturb and also to leave behind any sediment there may be at the bottom of the vessel. We put the saucepan on a quick fire, stir the chopped meat and the flavouring ingredients into it, and keep stirring until a froth begins to form on the liquor. We then stop stirring at once, wait until the liquor rises high, draw the pan back instantly, and let it stand at the side of the fire for a quarter of an hour or so.

If we now take a little of the liquid in a silver spoon we shall find that part of it is bright and clear, and we can see the silver through it; the other is a sort of curd, mixed with vegetables and meat. This curd is the albumen which has hardened and gathered the impurities which were in the soup with it, and this it is which must be removed by straining.

Whilst the liquor is standing by the side of the fire we may prepare the strainer. A jelly bag is not the best thing we can take, because we want to pour the liquid in gently, and it is awkward to do this with a deep jelly bag. Better to take the thick flannel of which the jelly bag would have been made, wring it out of boiling water, and tie it to the four legs of a chair which has been turned upside-down on a table. The vessel  for the soup can be placed underneath the flannel, and the liquor can be poured on slowly and gently so as not to disturb the scum, which will serve as a filter  for the soup. Now, if my directions have been followed exactly I am quite sure that a beautifully bright clear soup will be obtained, and one that will taste pleasantly also when it has been boiled up again with salt and a small piece of sugar.

Perhaps girls feel inclined to ask, Must the flavouring ingredients be put into stock which has already been flavoured when it was made? Yes, they must. The quantities here given are for flavoured stock. If the stock were not flavoured at all, a larger proportion of vegetables would be needed. One secret of having well-tasting soup is to let it be freshly flavoured. The vegetables are put in here to revive the flavour, and the flavour needs reviving after the stock has been all night I larder. Otherwise the soup will have a stale taste, which will be anything but agreeable.

I may say in passing that it is this necessity for reviving the flavours which makes the difficulty with tinned soups. People often say that tinned soups taste of the tin, or, in other words, the flavour is stale. If they would take the trouble to boil a few fresh flavourers with a small quantity of fresh stock, and add this either strained, or in the case of purees rubbed through a sieve to the soup which is in the tin, they would find that the tinned taste was scarcely perceptible.

One point must be carefully noted in clearing soup, and that is – the cook must stop whisking instantly when the scum begins to rise; also, the pan must be drawn back as soon as the liquor bubbles. If the liquor is whisked too long, or boiled too long, the scum may sink down again, and the soup will be spoiled.

Another point to be noted is that the soup must not be clarified the day before it is wanted, or it will become cloud with standing.

It is astonishing what a number of soups may be made of this clear soup. Sago, rice, macaroni, vermicelli nouilles, pearl barley, tapioca, and semolina may all be boiled separately, then dropped into it, and the soup will then be called after the name of the distinctive ingredient. When spring vegetables, young turnips, carrots, or leeks are put into clear soup, it becomes printaniere, or spring soup. When these same vegetables are softly stewed in butter and cut into shreds it is julienne. When savoury custard (cut into diamonds or stars) is put into it, it is soup royale. If Brussels sprouts are introduced it is a Flemish soup; if crusts of bread, it is croute a pot; if homely vegetables, it is soup a la paysanne; if poached eggs, it is Colbert's soup. And so we might go on, jardinière, brunoise, chiffonnade, macedoine, nivernaise, and others are all clear soup, with very slight differences.

If there are any girls belonging to this class who try to follow my instructions and make some clear soup in the way I have described, I know quite well what the result will be. The soup will be excellent, bright, clear, and good, but they will feel that it has been a great trouble to make I should not be surprised if their state of mind were similar to that of the charity-boy mentioned in "Pickwick," who, when he got to the end of the alphabet, said, "Whether it is worth while going through it so much to learn so little is a matter of taste. I think it isn't." After all, important as cookery may be, there are other things to be done in the world, and though we might be willing to make the best clear soup for high days and holidays, it is more than probable that few would be able to give the time to it very often. Therefore, it will be an advantage to learn an easier and cheaper way of preparing it, so as to achieve very nearly, though not quite, as satisfactory a result.

The easier method is to use stock made of Liebig's Extract of Meat, instead of stock from fresh meat. A small quantity of this extract dissolved in a little boiling water will supply a clear straw-coloured liquor, which tastes quite sufficiently of meat, and which may easily be converted into excellent soup. Of course the difficulty here is the flavouring. We must so flavour this extract of eat stock that no one shall know what it was, but shall, if they think anything at all about the matter, regard it as a matter of course that the stock  for the soup was made in the usual way, "with trouble and charges," to use an expression of Izaak Walton's.

Whatever vegetables are used in flavouring this soup must be cleansed thoroughly and boiled separately. A little soaked gelatine may be boiled in the liquid, which must be skimmed thoroughly; and as soon as it tastes pleasantly, and before the vegetables are soft, the liquid must be strained off for use.

As to what flavourers we are to use in making the stock, the question must be answered by another – What flavourers can we get at the time? We need not always make our soup exactly alike. When we once get the idea we can vary the flavour according to the ingredients at our command. Supposing we want a small quantity of soup for a small family, let us flavour a pint of water pleasantly and rather strongly by boiling in it the white part of a leek, six or eight fresh pepper-corns, and a stick of celery, or a small pinch of celery seed tied in muslin; a turnip, a small carrot, and a little parsley can be added, if liked, or an onion with one or two cloves may be used instead of the leek.

We must cleanse and prepare the vegetables before using. Also we must remove the scum from the liquid as it rises, and boil in it about a teaspoonful of good gelatine which has been soaked in water for a while; then we dissolve a small quantity of extract of meat in fresh boiling water (I cannot say exactly how much, because extract of meat varies in quality – about a teaspoonful), strain the stock in which the vegetables were boiled, mix the two together, and add salt until the liquid is coloured sufficiently and tastes well. It should not be over-brown, and it should not taste specially of the dissolved extract, but rather of a combination of meat and vegetables. When wanted make it hot, and the soup is ready. When they are to be had, a handful of green peas or a little carrot and turnip finely shred and boiled separately are a great addition to this soup. A tablespoonful of crushed tapioca may be simmered in it till clear to make a change, or it may be thickened with arrowroot. Perhaps girls feel inclined to say, "What a small quantity you have made; there will not be enough!" Quite enough for a small family – that is, for four or five people. One reason why English people do not like soup is, that when they make it at all they make it in such large quantities that they get tired of it before it is finished. They have an idea that if they make soup at all they must make a gallon. A gallon of soup! Why, it would be enough for twenty people. If four persons were compelled to drink it day after day until it was finished, they would ever afterwards say they do not like soup. Let me advise girls to make a quart of soup to begin with, and if it is liked they can make a quart of another kind another day.

Fresh herbs are excellent for flavouring soup; tarragon leaves especially impart a delicious and quite unique flavour, although it is with tarragon as with celery seed – a very little goes a long way. Shallots and leeks are always to be preferred to onions when they can be obtained; they are more delicate in flavour. A ham bone is a perfect treasure for flavouring, but if we use it we must clarify the soup with a little lean meat or a teaspoonful of white of egg. Mushroom ketchup and prepared sauces, too, are valuable helps for flavouring soups when used very sparingly, but a soup ought not to taste of mushroom ketchup above everything. There is still another way of making clear soup, and that is by boiling broth to a glaze, adding water, and simmering gently. I fear, however, that space will not allow me to describe this now, besides which it is a little difficult for amateurs. I must, therefore, advise girls to try the plans we have been speaking of. In our next lesson we will try to make thick soups and purees.

7 May 1881 - 'Soups, and How to Make Them' by Phillis Browne - Part One

It is astonishing what a prejudice roughish people have against soup. The objection is not so universal as it was a few years ago, but still it exists. I cannot but think that one reason of this is that the housekeepers who scorn it do not understand what soup really is. A friend of mine once told me that none of her girls would touch soup; they did not care for it at all. I was not astonished at this when I discovered that her only idea of making soup was to thicken the liquor in which meat had been boiled with prepared pea meal. Another lady, who sympathised with the first one in her want of appreciation of culinary delicacies, used to make it by thickening the liquor with oatmeal. On one occasion I was privileged to taste the latter preparation. I expected it would be insipid, but it was not; it was particularly tasty, for it was burnt. I sympathised with the young ladies who did not like it at all, for I decided that I could not have eaten much of that soup if I had been paid for it.

One erroneous idea concerning soup is that it is expensive, and that in order to make it good pounds upon pounds of meat must be obtained for it. If these are dispensed with the soup will not be worth drinking. Really, however, soup is an economy. It is a mistake to make it very rich and very strong. When, as is generally the case, it is succeeded by other dishes, it should be light and pleasantly flavoured, but not strong or nourishing enough to furnish a dinner in itself. People usually sit down to dinner tired, hungry and weary, and it is rather too much of a good thing to put a slice of roast beef or boiled mutton before them straight away. It is giving their digestive organs too much to do; they need to be set gently to work. To have light employment given them at first, and to be allowed to go on gradually to the heavy business.  Sir Henry Thompson, I think it was, pointed out a little while ago, in some papers he published on food, that light liquid food was most valuable as a restorative. Those who have been accustomed to take soup, and have noticed how quickly it takes away the feeling of exhaustion, and prepares the way for the enjoyment of dinner, would be very sorry to do without it. At the same time, they would be equally sorry to make it very strong and rich, unless they intended the family to dine upon it entirely.

When I said soup was an economy, I meant that it might be made the means of preventing waste; also that when used regularly it saves the joint, and partially satisfies the appetite before the most expensive part of the dinner is touched. I daresay you have heard of the housekeeper who said to her friend, "We never have soup; we cannot afford it;" to which the other replied, "Indeed, we always have soup; we cannot afford to do without it." I certainly think the second housekeeper was the more economical of the two.

However, it is not my business now to sing the praises of soup. But I may say that I believe it would be seen on our tables more frequently than it is if the girls in a house were able and willing to make it. The secret of our not having soup is that it takes time and trouble, which servants do not always care to give. But in the good time coming, when all the girls in our homes understand and practice cookery, when our daughters would rather prepare with their own hands a good dinner for their fathers than tire their eyes in making so many useless mats and antimacassars, things will be quite different; we shall enter upon a delightful period, and we shall all live twice as well as we do now, at half the present cost.

There are three varieties of soup – clear soup, thick soup, and purees. For all these stock is required, and therefore the first thing we have to do is to learn how to make stock. For very nourishing, superior soup, and for clear soup, fresh meat is required; although it is quite true that clear soup may be made of weak bone stock, it is scarcely worth while to do so unless there was plenty of fresh meat left o bones, and to buy bones roughly trimmed would cost as much as to buy fresh meat. Ordinary stock, however, that will make excellent soup for daily use may be made of the trimmings of joints, the liquor in which meat and vegetables and fish have been boiled, and even of the bones, skin, and trimmings left after a joint has been served. For nothing of this kind should be thrown away until it has been stewed until every particle of goodness has been extracted from it.
I am quite prepared to hear that girls who tried to prevent waste in this way, and to make the most of things by stewing bones and trimmings for stock, would be laughed and sneered at by certain people. Let them never mind this. When we are doing right we can bear to be laughed at, and certainly we who try to be economical are in the right. It is wicked to waste good food while so many thousands are needing it. If we have more than re require let us give to those who want, not throw away. It is a great disgrace to English cooks that they act as though extravagance meant cleverness, and thrift meant incompetency. I have noticed again and again that as soon as ever a cook acquires skill she loses her respect for quantities and prices. We will not do this in our cookery class, for we all look upon waste as sin.

Therefore let us resolve that nothing containing nourishment shall be thrown away until it has been well stewed. We will put on one side all the trimmings, skin, bone, and fat that we can collect, and as soon as we have an opportunity we will render down the fat for frying and will stew the rest for stock.

Sometimes economical cooks advise that a stock-pot should be kept by the side of the fire, and that trimmings, pieces, and scraps should be thrown into it from time to time as they come to hand ; that water should be added when necessary, and thus a constant supply of stock should be provided. This plan I do not recommend. In the first place it leads to the ingredients being unequally cooked. Scraps which are thrown into the pot when the cooking is half through are not so thoroughly stewed as those which were in at the beginning. In the second place over-long simmering will spoil the flavour of our stock and make it taste unpleasantly of the pan. Whatever we have to stew should be put on freshly into a clean pan every morning; when the simmering has been continued five hours the contents of the pan should be turned into an earthen vessel and carried into a cool larder and left uncovered till wanted.

We will suppose that we have a quantity of bones and trimming, say, for instance, the bones left from a cooked joint which weighed eight or ten pounds before it was cut. Perhaps also we should have the bones of poultry or game, and two or three bacon bones; if so, we should of course make use of them, although we should do very well without them. How should we proceed in making stock?

We should look carefully over our ingredients, and trim away anything that was unsuited to our purpose. If it should happen that there was anything not quite pure and sweet we should put that aside at once. "Cleanliness is the soul of cookery," and it is particularly called for in economical cookery. We wish to avoid waste, but we are not willing to use everything. Having satisfied ourselves on this point, however, we put the bones into a perfectly clean saucepan and pour over them cold water, in the proportion of a quart of water to a pound of bones. I daresay it will be remembered that when we were speaking of boiling meat we said that when we wanted to keep the goodness in the meat we placed it in boiling water; when we wished to draw the goodness out we put it in cold water. On this occasion we wish to draw the goodness out, we therefore use cold water.

We now put the saucepan on the fire, and bring the liquid slowly to a boil. In a little while it will begin to simmer, and then we throw in a small quantity of salt, not as much as will be needed to season the soup, but a little to help the scum to rise. It is well to leave the seasoning until the stock is made, because we intend to boil the liquid down to about half its quantity, and if we add as much salt as is wanted now we shall find that our stock is too salt by the time the boiling is over, for salt will not fly away in steam, though water may. But salt will help to make the scum rise, and we particularly wish to remove the scum as soon as it appears, before it has time to boil down into the stock again. Therefore we throw a little salt in, and  for the same purpose we add a cupful of cold water two or three times after skimming, and after each addition heat again and skim once more.

When we have cleared away as much scum as possible, we draw the saucepan back, put on the lid, and let the liquor simmer very gently for five hours. If we wish to use it quickly, or if the weather is cold, we may at the end of three hours put in the flavouring ingredients, a carrot, a leek or an onion, a clove, a little celery, a bay leaf, a bunch of parsley, a sprig of thyme, six peppercorns, and half a blade of mace for each quart of liquid. We must remember, however, that if the weather is warm stock will keep better if vegetables have not been boiled in it, and that even if they are so boiled additional vegetables will have to be added when the stock is used in order to "revive the flavour;" otherwise our soup will not taste fresh.

Bone stock boiled without either vegetables or seasoning will not taste at all good when the five hours are over, and it is poured out, and carried into the larder. Nevertheless, it will contain goodness, and we can make excellent soup of it when the time arrives for us to do so.

Perhaps the bones do not appear to be sufficiently stewed after the liquor is strained from them. They ought to look quite clear and clean, and in such a condition that when dry we should have no objection to put them in our pockets If this be so, we may stew them again next day with a small quantity of fresh cold water, but we must on no account be persuaded to leave them in the saucepan all night.

When we want to make superior stock we take fresh meat. If we wanted three pints of stock we should need three pounds of meat – shin of beef for brown stock, knuckle of veal for white stock – and we must allow a point of water to a pound of meat and one pint of water over. The meat is to be cut into small pieces, the smaller the better, and covered with the cold water, then salted, boiled up, skimmed and simmered, exactly as recommended for bone soup. The vegetables, a carrot, half a turnip, a leek, a bunch of parsley, a sprig of thyme, a bay leaf, three or four sticks of celery, and twenty peppercorns, will be sufficient for three pints of stock.

In both these instances the liquor in which meat had been boiled, and especially the liquor in which "rabbit" or "chicken" or even rabbit bones or chicken bones had been stewed, would be much to be preferred to water if it could be had. If fresh meat were used any trimmings of meat or poultry that there might be should be thrown into the pan and stewed with the meat; they would make the stock stronger.

There is still another kind of stock which may be needed, and that is fish stock for fish soup. It may be made with the liquor in which fish has been boiled, and the bones and skin of the fish with an anchovy, an onion, and one or two cloves may be stewed in it afterwards. Fish soup should be very carefully skimmed, and it must be remembered that it will not keep as well as meat stock.

We now have our stock, which is the basis of soup, ready. The process of converting it into soup must be reserved for another lesson.

14 August 1880 - 'Economical and Wholesome Dishes Made Without Meat' by Phillis Browne

Vegetarian dishes Victorian style: white bean soup (make with pork stock if possible), macaroni cheese, cauliflower cheese, and cheesy rice.

A good deal has been said of late years about the desirability of doing without meat altogether, and living upon nothing but milk, eggs, vegetables, fruit, and grains. I have no intention of entering into the subject here, for I do not suppose it would interest you very much. But I know there are several excellent and nourishing dishes into which meat does not enter, and which cost very little; and as you might like to try some of them I will describe how two or three of them are made.

One seems to have an idea that soup, if it is to be worth anything, must be made from meat. And yet some very excellent and nourishing and most palatable soups can be made without it. One of them is haricot soup.

I suppose you know the white haricot beans that are sold at the cornchandlers at a price varying from 4d to 6d per quart. Procure a print of these, wash them well, and pick out any beans that float or look black. Put the rest to soak all night in plenty of cold water. The next morning drain them and place them in a saucepan with two quarts of cold water and a large onion cut into slices, and boil them for four hours, by which time they will be soft. (And by the way I may say that white soups and white sauces are more likely to be a good colour if they are made in a white or enamelled saucepan rather than in an iron one.) Invert a wire sieve in a large bowl, turn the beans with the liquor upon it into this, and with a wooden spoon rub beans and onion through the sieve. The skins will not go through, and they should be thrown away. Stir the pulp that has been passed through the colander with the liquor, and season the mixture liberally with pepper and salt, and then return it to the saucepan, and put it on the fire, stirring it now and then. Boil a pint of milk separately. Mix this with the puree at the last moment, put it into a hot soup tureen, and it is ready.

If we can procure them, we may sue red haricot beans instead of white ones, and then we can make what is called soup a la Conde. We must proceed exactly in the same way as with white haricots, but we shall not need to add milk to our puree. The soup will be a rich, deep red colour, and will taste excellently. Red haricots are not, however, much used in England, and cannot be bought at every shop, though they may generally be had if ordered beforehand.

Peas, lentils and haricot beans are all very nearly as nourishing as meat, and very good soup may be made of each of the three by following the idea given in this recipe, that is, soaking them for a time, boiling them till soft with suitable flavourings, and rubbing them through a sieve. Milk, however, will be required for haricot soup alone, although many people think it is an improvement to throw a cupful of boiling milk into a tureen of lentil soup.

The flavouring of the different soups must be suitably varied. Celery stalks or celery seed certainly be boiled with both lentils and peas, and onions are called for with all three soups. It is very usual to add also carrots and turnips to lentil and to pea soup. But in every case the particular point that needs attention is to pass the boiled beans through a sieve. The skins are too coarse to enter into the soup, and they would only spoil if they were put in. One word I must say about lentils. It is commonly understood that the Egyptian or red lentils are to be preferred to the German or green lentils. To my mind this is a mistake. I prefer the German lentils for every purpose. However, tastes differ, and the way to decide between the two is to first try both.

People who do not care  for the trouble of rubbing the beans through the sieve frequently buy what is called pea flour or lentil flour, thickening their soups with it. Their plan is not, however, to be recommended. Too often, these prepared meals are mixed with inferior meal of different kinds, and they are rarely to be relied on. We want real lentil soup or real pea soup, and we had better make it the right way.

If we were not "set" against using meat in some form or other the liquor that pork or fat bacon had been boiled in would be better than water for making pea or lentil soup. Not so, however, with haricot soup. We want this to look white and delicate, and therefore pure water will answer our purpose for it better than anything, besides which the milk that is put with it will help to make the soup nourishing.

So much for soups. And now for two or three savoury dishes made without meat. Amongst the best of these are Italian macaroni and cauliflower au gratin, and rice and cheese.

Macaroni is a preparation of flour. It is very wholesome and good, but few English people care for it. I do not think, however, that anyone could help liking it if made in the way I shall describe.

There are different qualities, too, of macaroni, and we may take it as a general rule that the commoner the kind the more quickly it is boiled. We must, however, procure the best, that is Naples macaroni, and the fresher and smoother it is the better.

Supposing we take half a pound of macaroni. We first wash it for safety's sake in lukewarm water, break it into three inch lengths and throw it into two quarts of boiling water, seasoning it with plenty of pepper and some salt. We then let it simmer very gently for about twenty minutes, though if the macaroni is very superior, it will take half-an-hour. At any rate it ought to simmer until a little piece taken between the thumb and finger feels tender, but it is not at all broken or pulpy. We now drain the macaroni carefully and put it back into the stew-pan with half-a-pint of milk, and simmer it again for a minute or two until this is absorbed. Meanwhile we have read-grated and mixed two ounces of Parmesan and two ounces of Gruyere cheese. Half the quantity must be sprinkled over the macaroni and tossed over the fire well till it is well mixed in. An ounce of fresh butter is now put with it in the same way, and this is tossed about till melted. Last of all the remainder of the cheese is added. When the macaroni begins to get stringy it is ready to pour upon a hot dish and to be served.

Real Italian macaroni would be made with broth or gravy instead of milk, but of course if we are to do without meat we cannot have broth, and milk will do very well for our purpose. It may happen, however, that the cheese becomes oily when melted, and if this should be, one or two additional table-spoonfuls of moisture must be added and gently stirred in for about a minute.

I have said that equal quantities of Parmesan and of Gruyere cheese are to be used in making Italian macaroni. These cheeses are not very common in England, and perhaps might be difficult to get, although they could be obtained easily enough by ordering them beforehand. They are suitable for this purpose simply because they are so dry that they can be grated to powder as a nutmeg is, though on a cheese grater. If we could get an English cheese dry enough to grate in this way it would do instead of the foreign cheese, though it would not be quite so good. You can see, however, that a rich cheese could not be grated to a fine, dry yellow powder; it would cake together in a mass and it would become oily when tossed in the macaroni.

I am afraid I cannot say that cauliflower au gratin is a very nourishing dish, but it is so delicious that I must tell you of it. We shall want for it one large or two moderate-sized cauliflowers and 2 ozs of grated Parmesan, or any other dry cheese, half an ounce of butter, 1 oz of flour, 2 tablespoonfuls of cream, or milk. Boil the cauliflower in the usual way, and take it up when it is slightly underdone. Whilst it is boiling prepare the sauce. Melt half an ounce of butter in a small stewpan, and beat smoothly with it off the fire 1 oz of flour Add a gill of cold water and stir the sauce over the fire till it boils, put in two tablespoonfuls of cream and half the grated Parmesan, and the sauce is ready. Trim away all the green leaves from the cauliflower, and break the white part into sprigs. Lay half of these on a dish, and pour half the sauce over them; arrange the remainder on the top, pour the rest of the sauce over, and sprinkle the other half of the grated cheese over all. Brown the cauliflower before the fire, and serve it very hot. An girl who wishes to give a little treat to her father or brother could not do better than prepare this dish for them.

We all know that rice is very nourishing and wholesome; indeed, it is said to constitute the chief food of one-third of the human race. Rice and cheese cooked together are excellent. For this we take any quantity of rice - say half a pound. Wash it well, for if rice is well washed in the first instance it is not so likely to burn afterwards. Put it into a saucepan with cold water to cover it, and bring it to a boil, then drain it and return it to the saucepan with a pint and a half of milk, a little pepper and salt, and a piece of butter the size of a fourpenny piece. Let it simmer gently till it is tender, and if necessary add a little more milk, but it ought not to be moist. While it is boiling prepare a quarter of a pound of grated cheese. Grease a dish with bacon fat [What???] spread the rice and cheese upon it in alternate layers, the cheese forming the uppermost layer. Put a little more bacon fat over all, [FFS, Phillis.]  and put the rice in the oven to brown. Serve as hot as possible.

3 December 1898 - 'Three Soups'

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OXTAIL SOUP

Ingredients – One oxtail, one large carrot, two onions stuck with cloves, one turnip, four sticks of celery, four mushrooms, half a parsnip, a bunch of herbs, two blades of mace, twelve black peppercorns, three ounces of butter, one dessertspoonful of red currant jelly, two quarts and a half of water, a wine-glass of sherry, three ounces of fine flour, salt.

Method – Wash the oxtail and chop it; put it in a saucepan and cover with cold water; bring to the boil and throw the water away. Fry the oxtail gently in the butter until it is a good brown; prepare the vegetables and slice them and put them in a saucepan with the oxtail, water, herbs, mace, salt and peppercorns; put on the lid and simmer gently for five hours. Strain the stock and skim off the fat; pick out the meat and put it aside to keep hot; pick out the vegetables and pound them finely, add the stock by degrees, return to the stove and reheat; melt the rest of the butter in a small frying pan and stir in the flour, fry it a good dark brown over the fire, stir in a little of the hot soup and add this thickening to the soup; add the sherry and red currant jelly and the pieces of oxtail, and serve.

KIDNEY SOUP

Ingredients – One pound of kidney, half each of carrot, turnip, onion and parsnip, two sticks of celery, one tomato, one bay leaf, one sprig of parsley, one dessertspoonful of Harvey’s sauce, a little browning, one quart of water or stock, one ounce of butter, pepper and salt.

Method – Wash the kidney and cut away any fat; cut it in dice and fry gently in the butter; prepare the vegetables, cut them in pieces and put them in a saucepan with the kidney, bay leaf, parsley, water or stock and salt. Put on the lid and let all simmer gently for four hours; strain off the soup, pick out the pieces of kidney and put them aside to keep hot. Return the stock to the saucepan, add the Harvey’s sauce and the browning; put back the pieces of kidney, reheat and serve.

MULLIGATAWNY

Ingredients – One large onion, one apple, one tablespoonful of good curry powder, one ounce of flour, half an ounce of grated cocoanut, a few drops of lemon juice, one dessertspoonful of red currant jelly, one dessertspoonful of chutney, salt, one quart of chicken or veal stock, three ounces of butter, one ounce and a half of cornflour, some well boiled rice.

Method – Skin the onion, slice it and pound it in a mortar; chop and pound the apple. Mix the curry powder smoothly with half a teacupful of cold water, melt the butter in a stewpan, stir in the curry powder and water and the pounded onion; cook and stir until the water cooks away and the onion browns in the butter; add the apple, cocoanut, chutney, salt and the stock (warm); put on the lid and simmer for half an hour; rub through a sieve, mix the flour with a little cold stock, re-heat the soup and when it boils stir in the flour; add the lemon juice and red currant jelly; hand well-cooked rice with this soup.

21 January 1893 - A Model Menu for February, by Phillis Browne

The Girl's Own Annual vol.XIV features a monthly 'Model Menu'. As I am not transcribing articles in any kind of order (although there is an index for articles by subject heading if you glance to the right of the screen), here is the suggested menu for February.

Menu
White Soup
John Dory, or Whiting
Kidneys and Mushrooms
Braised Leg of mutton
Potato Puff - White Haricots
Baked Cabinet Pudding
Orange Souffle

Turkish Soup:- If there is any white stock in the house, or the liquor in which chickens, mutton, or bacon have been boiled, a delicious and somewhat uncommon soup can be made of it which is known to the initiated as Turkish Soup. Stock in which rabbits or bacon have been boiled is particularly excellent for this soup, because the flavour imparted by these meats is just what is wanted; though, indeed, rabbit stock and bacon stock are valuable for almost all soups. Should there be no white stock in the house it is allowable to use water for this soup, and the eggs and cream introduced into it will make it sufficiently nutritious without stock. It is always to be remembered that in these days soups that are somewhat of a light character are preferred to soups that constitute a meal in themselves. Water will at least possess the virtue of not spoiling the colour of the soup. It may be added that white soup should be made in an enamelled or earthenware pan, never in an iron one.

To make the soup, put a quart of white stock into a stewpan with two tablespoonfuls of whole rice, and boil for about 20 minutes or till the rice is tender. If the stock is not already flavoured with bacon, stew with the rice some strips of bacon-rind which have been thoroughly well scalded and scraped, and throw them away when done with. Rub the rice through a sieve, mix the stock in which it was boiled smoothly with it, and put it again in the pan. Mix in a basin the yolks of two eggs, and two tablespoonfuls of cream. If the last-named ingredient is not obtainable, a gill of milk may be used. Pour on the boiling stock gradually and stir the soup over the fire for about two minutes, that is till it thickens, but does not boil. If the soup boil after the eggs are put with it, it will curdle. Have ready two ounces of macaroni which has been boiled separately, and cut into inch lengths. Last thing add the macaroni to the soup with a little cayenne and two tablespoonfuls of grated Parmesan. Serve very hot.

John Dory, or Whiting:- by people who are acquainted with it John Dory is considered as delicious in taste as it is ugly in appearance. Yet if intrinsic worth is of more importance than mere looks, this fish ought to be honoured. Unfortunately it is not often to be had; it is only occasionally brought to market. February, however, is the month when it is in perfection, and is most frequently seen; therefore in February it ought not to be forgotten.

The dory may readily be known by its very ugly head, its yellow-grey colour and the long filaments on its back. The fish which are thickest across the shoulders are the best. Cleanse it carefully and cut off the fins, and lower it into boiling salted water and simmer gently till cooked. The time required must be determined by the size and thickness of the fish. A dory of average size would need to simmer from twenty to thirty minutes. Drain well, lay on a dish covered with a napkin, and garnish with plenty of parsley and slices of lemon or chilli pods. Remember to mass the garnish about the head to hide its shape. The sauce made as follows may be served in a tureen:-

Melt an ounce of butter in a small stewpan and mix half an ounce of flour smoothly with it; add half a pint of water and a pinch of salt, and stir the sauce till it boils. Beat an egg in a basin. Let the sauce cool half a minute, then mix it gradually with the egg and stir over the fire once more, just long enough to cook the egg a little without allowing it to boil. When poured into the tureen add a dessertspoonful of chopped capers and a squeeze of lemon juice.

Dorys are not always to be had, but whiting are generally available, and in February they are in perfection. They may be made into a very simple and excellent dish if cooked as follows:-

Fillet the fish in the usual way, passing the knife from the tail to the head and lifting the flesh from the bones on both sides. Divide each side in two, trim the fillets into a good shape, pepper and salt them, and boil them in salted water to which a few drops of lemon juice have been added. Let them simmer gently for a few minutes till cooked through, but they must not be overcooked. Take up carefully with a slice, dish prettily, pour oiled butter over and sprinkle chopped parsley on the top. Treated thus the dish will be so easily made ready, that housewives may be inclined to despise it. It will, however, be excellent if only it is served hot, and if everything about it is hot. If it is half cold it will not be worth eating.

Whiting is an exceedingly delicate fish and very easily to digest. It is called the chicken of the sea. It is not appreciated as it deserves to be, because it so often happens that inexperienced housekeepers buy inferior fish such as codling and Pollock under the impression that they are buying the true silver whiting, when they are doing nothing of the kind; then they wonder that so much is said in praise of food which they do not find to be at all extraordinary. It sounds rather contradictory, but it is nevertheless true that “when whiting is bad it is pretty sure not to be whiting”. Authorities tell us that in England there are hundreds of thousands of small fish sold as whiting which are something else. It is, however, fairly easy to know true whiting when we see it if we are on the lookout for certain marks. Thus codlings and haddock have a barbel, that is a short fleshy cord hanging from the lower jaw; whiting have none. Pollock, which is a fish declared by some to be identical with whiting, but which is of a different taste, has the under jaw projecting beyond the upper jaw. Whiting has the upper jaw projecting beyond the lower jaw. To these remarks we may add that although it is unquestionably true that “white fish boiled is generally insipid”, we can still confidently recommend this dish as very good.

Oiled Butter:- When all other sauces fail, oiled butter can be made ready in a minute. It is simply plain fresh butter which has been melted without being browned. The butter when melted ought to be skimmed and poured away from the milky sediment which settles at the bottom. Also it should be salted before being poured over the fish.

Kidneys and Mushrooms:- Forced mushrooms are to be had all the year round, but they are believed to be at their best in February. Fresh mutton kidneys and mushrooms daintily cooked together make a very appetising little entree. The dish is often spoilt because the kidneys are tough. They will be tender if cooked as follows:

Skin and core three sheep’s kidneys and cut into dice. Skin and trim a dozen fresh button mushrooms, or two dozen champignons. Melt a slice of butter in a small stewpan and throw in the mushrooms. Let them simmer, stirring constantly for ten minutes, then add the kidneys, a piece of glaze about the size of a hazelnut, and half a gill of stock. Simmer again, but on no account quite boil, for another eight minutes; add a teaspoonful of flour and half a teaspoonful of chopped parsley, and serve hot. Garnish with fried bread cut into fancy shapes. When preparing this dish the point to remember is to stew the mushrooms in butter longer than the kidneys.

Braised Leg of Mutton:- This dish is very tasty and delicious hot, and it is very good cold; but it will not be satisfactory if warmed up. Therefore when we intend to prepare it we should do well to buy a small plump leg of Welsh mutton, have the bone removed as far as the first joint, and fill the space with forcemeat strongly flavoured with shallot. If we cannot get a small leg we might buy a larger leg, have about three inches of the shank end cut off, and also a piece cut slantwise from the top of the mutton through the bone. This would give us a piece of mutton shaped like a fillet of veal, and if the bone were taken from it, the forcemeat might be put in quite easily. The pieces cut off might be made into Navarin or Irish stew for dinner another day.

Whether however the mutton is cut to form a fillet or whether it is left whole, the process is the same. Sew up the joint and place it in a braising pan or ham-kettle nearly of its own size, with slices of fat bacon bound round it, two or three onions, four or five carrots, two bay leaves, a bunch of savoury herbs, with a few bones or odds and ends – if there are any in the house – to help make the gravy good. Add also a little salt, two cloves, a teaspoonful of whole pepper, half a blade of mace, a sprig of celery, and about three quarters of a pint of stock. If there is any garlic in the store cupboard it will be well to rub the bottom of the stewpan sharply across once with garlic before putting in the meat. Cover the pan closely, and bring the stock gently to the point of boiling. As soon as it begins to boil draw it quite to the side and let it simmer as softly as possible, but without ceasing, for about four hours, turning it once when about half done. Keep the lid closed and shake the pan now and again. At the end of the time lift the mutton out, strain the gravy, free it from fat (this detail is of importance), brown it a little, pour two tablespoonfuls or so into the dish with the meat, and send the rest to table in a tureen.

As all housewives know, braising proper is carried on in a stewpan which admits of live embers being placed on the lid, and thus cooking is carried on above as well as below. Stewpans of this description however are not often found in England. But it is quite possible to obtain nearly as good a result in a stewpan which has a closely fitting lid, provided always that the simmering is gentle and continuous, and that the vessel is about the size of the joint that is to be cooked in it. To prevent the escape of steam it is advisable to keep a wet cloth round the lid of the pan. Some housewives prefer to lute the edges of the vessel with coarse flour and water paste, but the wet cloth answers the same purpose, and it is less troublesome. The object aimed at is to cook the meat in the vapour of the combined ingredients stewed with it, so that it may become impregnated therewith. Meat braised in this way is really very easily prepared. The one point of importance belonging to it is that it should be gently simmered. If it boils it will be ragged, and if it becomes dry it has boiled too fast; if it stops simmering it will be spoilt, but if successfully managed it will be succulent and exceedingly tender, therefore particularly suited to the needs of individuals whose teeth are not good. It makes a pleasant change from the ordinary

Potato Puff:- (An American way of preparing potatoes.) Peel and boil about six large potatoes. When soft and dry, beat them briskly with a little salt and two tablespoonfuls of butter till white and creamy. Now add the yolks of two eggs well beaten, and two tablespoonfuls of cream or milk. Almost twenty minutes before the potato is wanted, whisk the whites of the two eggs to a firm froth, mix them lightly with the mashed potato, turn into a deep dish, and bake in a quick oven till brown. If successfully managed, the potato will be light, puffy and delicious.

White Haricots:- White haricots are not appreciated in this country as they deserve to be. They constitute most valuable food, and when well cooked they are very appetising and enjoyable; they also form a most excellent accompaniment to braised leg of mutton. The reason why they are not liked more is than they are is that they are frequently not well cooked. They ought to be quite tender, yet whole, when brought to table; yet too often they are either hard, or broken and watery, and the cause of their being a failure is that the time required for cooking them depends on their age and condition. When we buy beans we never can tell whether they are over-dry or more than a year old; therefore we cannot say how long they should be boiled. The only thing we can do is to try a few beforehand, and then we need have no fear of mistake. At any rate, we may be quite sure that unless the beans are quite tender they will not be approved.

Soak a cupful of white haricots overnight. Next day put them to boil in plenty of cold water, and throw in a little salt when the water boils. Boil steadily until they will crush between the finger and thumb, while remaining whole. Shake the pan now and then that the beans may be equally cooked. Drain them and take care of their liquor. Put a slice of sweet dripping into a stewpan. When it is melted throw in the beans, add a pinch of salt, a little pepper, and the strained juice of a lemon. Shake the pan over the fire to mix thoroughly, and serve very hot.

It must never be forgotten that most nourishing and valuable soup may be made of the water in which haricot beans are boiled, therefore the liquor should never be thrown away, although it is scarcely advisable to serve the soup and the beans on the same day, because there would be too much similarity between them. To make the soup, melt a slice of butter in a stewpan, and throw in one large onion cut in slices. Cover closely, and let the onion “sweat” for half an hour; then add the bean broth gradually, also one potato, a good-sized piece of stale bread – if there is such a thing in the house – and one or two strips of bacon-rind scalded and scraped. Let the whole simmer for about an hour; press through a sieve, squeezing as much onion through as possible; boil once more, add pepper and salt if necessary, and serve very hot. If too thick, a little boiling milk may be added. The soup should be of the consistency of cream. No one who tasted this soup for the first time, and who did not know what it was made of, would believe, when realising its savouriness and excellence, that it was concocted from such homely and inexpensive material.

Baked Cabinet Pudding:- Baked bread and butter pudding is generally considered very humble fare. If prepared as follows, however, it may be dubbed Baked Cabinet Pudding, and will be quite superior. Butter the inside of a shallow dish well – this is important. Three parts fill it with layers of rather thin bread and butter, interspersed with one penny sponge-cake broken up. Make a custard of as much milk as will fill the dish, boiling the milk with either thin lemon-rind or stick cinnamon to flavour it. Sweeten it well, and allow one egg for each half-pint of milk. Pour the custard gradually over the bread, and let it soak for at least half an hour. Bake about an hour in a moderately hot oven, and when it looks done pass a knife between the pudding and the dish to ascertain if it is firm. If it is, take it out and let it stand three or four minutes that it may shrink, then turn it out carefully; put a little jam made hot on the top, and pile four penny-worth of cream whipped upon this.

Cold Souffle Pudding:- Soak a quarter of an ounce of gelatine in water. Make a custard with the juice of four oranges, two or three ounces of sugar, according to acidity, and three yolks of eggs. Put the custard in a jug with boiling water, and stir it till it thickens. Let it cool a little, then mix in the gelatine, dissolved. Beat the whites of the eggs till stiff, and dash the foam lightly in. Mould when the preparation is beginning to set. Sprinkle desiccated cocoa-nut and pistachio-kernels on the surface. When a second pudding is wanted, this one will be found convenient because it sets quickly.

It is just possible that after reading the menu for this month the housewife will remark that there are a good many boiled things in it, and she will, perhaps, wonder if her stove will admit of so many stewpans being placed upon it all at one time. If, however, she will cast her eye over it a second time, she will see that the difficulty is more apparent than real. The leg of mutton, for instance, will have to be made ready five hours before it is wanted. When once started it can be put quite at the back of the stove and will very nearly cook itself. So also with the haricots; they must be boiled at least three hours before dinner time. The fish will not need to simmer longer than five or six minutes; and the mushrooms and kidneys will not be to the fire longer than half an hour. Therefore, it is believed that with the closed stoves, which are now so usual in our kitchens, there will not really be any awkwardness.

Yet it must never be forgotten that in carrying out this menu, or any menu, the great thing is to begin to make dinner ready in plenty of time and to prepare as much as possible beforehand. Every detail which can be set in order beforehand is so much to the good.  It is a good plan for the mistress of a household to plan her dinners one day in advance, so that she may give the order if special material has to be obtained, or if special preparation is required. When such a dish as white haricots is to be served, for example, the one day in advance is not only desirable, it is necessary in order that the beans may be soaked over-night.

The mistress who forms a habit of planning her dinners in advance will also find it an advantage to make it a practice to write out the menu every day clearly and legibly, with the courses in the order in which they are to be served; and with the et-ceteras, the sauces, and little condiments in a line with the dishes to which they belong, a thick ruled line dividing the courses. A paper of this description should be in the cook’s hand quite early every morning when a dinner is to be cooked. Then she can make herself familiar with its details and arrange for them betimes. Especially should she make ready and put close to hand the trifles intended for garnishing the dishes. Many a faux pas has been brought about, and many a dinner which would otherwise have been pronounced a success has gone wrong and been called a failure, because the parsley was not chopped beforehand, or the cream was not whipped at leisure. It is never safe to leave the preparation of accompaniments till they are wanted.

In drawing up the order of dinner for the use of the cook, the housewife would do well also to write down in large letters the words Hot or Cold in connection with each course. Already warned, the cook will understand that these words refer to the plates. Even at the most costly dinners it very rarely happens that the plates maintain their condition of perfection all the way through.  It is annoying to have to discuss a dainty morsel which ought to be “hot and hot” on a cold plate, or to receive another one which ought to be served cold on a plate which is lukewarm, suggesting the idea that it has been washed in a hurry. Yet mischances of the sort can easily be prevented if the thought of the plates is kept well in the cook’s mind.