Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetables. Show all posts

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

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.

Friday, 26 February 2016

14 February 1880 - 'Our Cooking Class' by Phillis Browne - 'Boiling'

Before boiling meat of any kind whatever, we should always ask ourselves one question, and that is "Do I want to keep the goodness in this meat, or do I want to get the goodness out of it?" It is on the answer we give, that our course must depend.

If the meat is to be eaten, we want to keep the goodness in it. We shall not be able to manage this entirely, for, with all our care, some of it will escape into the water, but we may preserve a great deal of it. And the best means we can adopt for this purpose is to surround the meat as quickly as possible with a kind of shield, through which the juices cannot escape.

We all know that an egg when broken in a cup is liquid. If this same egg be turned into a saucepan containing boiling water it will in three minutes be quite different,  for the white part will e solid. Now, there is in meat a great deal of the same substance that white of egg is composed of - that is, albumen, the peculiar property of which is that heat makes it solid. When, therefore, we plunge meat into boiling water, the albumen in it becomes solid, just as the white of an egg does. Of course, the part that is nearest to the hot water, that is, the outside, gets hard first, and this makes our shield. after the meat has boiled for five minutes, or a little less, it is quite surrounded with a covering that will keep in the goodness that we so much want to preserve.

If any one doubts the truth of this, let her take a little piece of raw beef, divide it into halves, and put one half into cold water and the other into boiling water. In one minute the cold water will be tinged with red - the goodness will have begun to escape from the meat. The boiling water will be very nearly the colour it was before. If the beef is allowed to be in the cold water for about half an hour, the water will be quite red and the meat will be white; its juices will have passed into the water, and it will be valueless for nourishing purposes. It is on this account that, when we want to make beef-tea, we put the beef to soak for awhile in cold water to draw out the goodness, before we put it into a jar to e placed in a saucepan of water to simmer till it is done.

We must not suppose, however, that, when we have got our shield round the meat, we are to let it keep on boiling till it is sufficiently cooked. If we did this, the meat would be shield all the way through, and that would make unnecessarily hard work for both our teeth and our digestions. What we want is not only to keep in the goodness, but to make the meat tender. This can be done only by gentle stewing. We must therefore proceed in this way. First we plunge our meat into the fast boiling water; it instantly stops boiling,  for the cold meat cools the liquid, so we bring it to the boiling point again as quickly as we can, let it boil for five minutes, then draw it back to a cooler place, put a wine-glassful of cold water into it to lower the temperature, and keep it simmering gently till it is done.

If we had a thermometer at hand to put into the water, we should find that when it was boiling, the quicksilver rose to 212 degrees. When the saucepan was drawn back and the cold water put in, the quicksilver would fall to 180 degrees, and it is at this point it should be kept all the time.

I know of nothing more difficult than to persuade inexperienced cooks of the fact that meat is made tender by gentle simmering and not by quick boiling.

Somehow it seems as if, when the water in the saucepan is galloping away, progress is being made, and the meat will be done sometime; whilst, when it simmers only, things seem almost at a standstill. I have again and again explained this to pupils, as I thought, in the clearest manner, and then, if I turned away for a little time, I should be sure to find the water boiling hard on my return. At last I have come to look upon those who can calmly allow meat to simmer, instead of boil, with a great deal of respect, as being far on the way to make good cooks.

The rule applies to all fresh meat - beef, mutton, pork, poultry and fish. When once we understand the general rule, we do not need to look in a cookery book to see how different joints are cooked. The rule is for all; a neck of mutton, a leg of mutton, a chicken, or a salmon, we must treat them all alike - first surround the meat with a coat of mail to keep in the goodness, and then simmer it til gently done.

I know very well that it is very uncommon to observe this rule, so far as fish is concerned. But I know of no reason why this should be. It is true, fish does not contain so much albumen as meat; but it contains a little, and this, when hardened, will help keep in the goodness. The only exception should be with mackerel, which may be put into warm water, because the skin is so delicate that boiling water will cause it to break.

One would think, to hear people talk, that boiling was one of the commonest processes in cookery. The fact is that, when cookery is understood, real boiling is very uncommon, excepting for a few minutes at a time. If we used words that really expressed what we mean, we should say "simmered" rabbit and "simmered beef", instead of "boiled" rabbit and "boiled" beef. Boiling, as applied to meats, is useful chiefly for hardening the outside to keep in the goodness and for reducing the liquid to make sauces.

As soon as the water boils, after the meat is put in, it should be well skimmed. The impurities that are in the meat are dissolved by the hot water, and they rise to the surface in the form of scum. If this is not taken off at once, it will sink again and make the meat a bad colour, so it will be well to watch  for the scum and take it off as quickly as it appears; a little salt thrown into the liquid will help it to rise. The earliest scum should be thrown away, but in a little while the fat of the meat will melt and rise, and this should be taken off and carefully preserved, for there is no fat that we can get that is so useful for frying as the skimmings of saucepans. Of that I shall have to speak when we are talking of frying meat.

The time that meat should simmer must, as in roasting, vary with the thickness of the joint. The safe general rule for beef and mutton is a quarter of an hour to the pound and a quarter of an hour over. When meat is very thick and solid, half an hour over may be allowed. When meat is to be pressed under a weight, and eaten cold, half an hour per pound will not be too long for it to simmer. Pork and salt meat should have twenty minutes per pound, and fish ten minutes per pound, and ten minutes over if it is thick. The time should always be counted from the moment the meat is drawn back, after it has been surrounded by its shield. This, therefore, must be considered, and allowance made  for the time the water will take to boil again after the meat has cooled it.

This general rule of putting meat into boiling water holds good for fresh meat only. A difference must be made with salted meat. Salt gets into the pores of the meat and needs to be drawn out a little before the shield surrounds the joint, or the meat would be hard. Therefore salted meat put into lukewarm instead of billing water, or, if it has been very strongly salted, it may even be put into cold water. The liquid may then be brought to the boiling point, be skimmed, and be left to boil for five minutes, and boiled twenty minutes per pound and twenty minutes over.

I must not forget to mention one thing. When I was speaking of roasting meat I said that beef and mutton should hang as long as possible, before being put down to the fire. It is not so with meat that is to be boiled. If meat on the point of turning were boiled, it would neither taste well nor look well, and, more than that, the liquor in which it was cooked would be good for nothing.

I hope no one would even think of throwing away the liquor in which fresh meat has been boiled. As I said a little while ago, do what we will, some of the goodness of the meat will have gone into it, and this must not be wasted. We English have the character of being the most wasteful cooks in the world, and the greatest benefit that would follow the spread of the knowledge of cookery would be that there would not be so much waste. The meat liquor must be poured at once into a clean earthenware pan and kept in a cool place till wanted. Excellent soup may afterwards be made of it, or it may be used instead of water for gravy and sauces. The only precaution that is necessary in order to keep it good is to boil it every day in warm weather, and every three or four days in cold weather. The worst of salt meat is that the liquor can seldom be used again in this way, and especially when saltpetre has been plentifully used to redden salt meat. The best thing that we can do after salt meat has been boiled is to taste the liquor, and if it is very salt, to throw it away at once. If saltpetre has been sparingly used, the liquor may serve for pea or lentil soup, but for no other kind.

So much for boiling meat. And now for vegetables. The majority of these should be thrown into plenty of fast boiling salted water, and boiled with the lid off the pan. If this can be done, and the vegetables are of moderate age, they will be sure to be of a good colour. Sometimes, when they have to be cooked on an open range, the fire is smoke, and, therefore, the lid must be put on. They will not then be of such a good colour. Closed ranges are, however,  becoming every day more usual amongst us, and with them there need be no dif in preserving the colour of vegetables. An exception to the general rule of putting vegetables into boiling water is made in the case of old potatoes, which should be put into cold water and gently stewed. New potatoes may, however, be put into boiling water like the rest.