Part 2

_Question._ What kind of fish can be cooked with the scales on?

MISS CORSON. I think the black bass, and some kinds of sea fish. The idea is that if the fish are not scaled they will keep their flavor; a fish properly dressed retains enough of its flavor even if it is scalded before it is cooked.

OMELETTES.

First, I will make a plain breakfast omelette. Use for two or three people not more than three eggs. You can not very well manage more than three in an ordinary pan. It is better to make several omelettes, especially because people are not apt to come to the table all at once, and an omelette to be nice must be eaten directly it is cooked. Say three eggs; break them into a cup or bowl; add to them a saltspoonful of salt, quarter of a saltspoonful of pepper, and mix them just enough to thoroughly break the whites and yolks together. Put over the fire a frying pan with a heaping teaspoonful of butter in it. Let the butter get hot. If you like an omelette brown let the butter begin to brown. After pouring the eggs into the hot frying pan break the omelette on the bottom of the pan with a fork, just a little, so that you let the uncooked part run down on the bottom of the pan. I do not mean to stir the omelette as you would scrambled eggs, but just break it a little until it is cooked as much as you want it. French breakfast omelettes are always cooked so that they are slightly juicy in the middle; in order to accomplish that result of course you have them still liquid before you begin to turn them. When the omelette is done as much as you want it run a fork under one side of it and fold it half over, then fold it again; loosen it from the pan; have a platter hot, and turn the omelette out. Serve it the moment it is done.

Next I will make a light omelette. The same rule--three eggs, whites and yolks separate; beat the whites to a stiff froth; add seasoning to the yolks in the same proportion as before; mix the yolks slightly with the seasoning; after the white has been beaten quite stiff and the yolk seasoned, mix them very lightly together; have a heaping tablespoonful of butter in the frying pan over the fire, hot, just as for the plain omelette; mix the whites and the yolks together, without breaking down the white. Of course the lightness of the omelette depends on keeping all the air in the white of the egg that you have beaten into it. Put the eggs into the hot frying pan; run the fork under the omelette and lift it from the pan as it cooks; lift the cooked portions from the pan, and let them fall back on the top of the omelette, taking care not to pat the omelette down at all; but just lift the cooked portions and let them fall back on the top of the omelette, until it is done as much as you like. Usually this omelette is served soft--as soft as ice cream. When it is done as much as you want it, push it to the side of the pan, gently, and then turn it out on a hot platter. Always remember that the success of an omelette depends upon the quickness with which it is made and served; because, in the first place, you make it light by beating air into it; then, of course, the heat expands the air, and that makes the omelette still lighter; and you must get it served before the hot air escapes.

BONING QUAIL.

After the quail have been picked, cut the wings off at the first joint, cut the legs just above the joint of the drum-stick. Cut off the head, take out the crop, cut the quail down the back bone; from the inside, cut the joint where the wing joins the body; and having cut that wing joint, begin and cut close to the carcass of the bird till you get down to the leg joint, where the second joint of the leg unites with the body; break that joint, and keep on cutting the flesh from the carcass, taking care not to cut through the carcass so that you strike the intestines until you reach the ridge of the breast bone; close to the breast bone you will find that little division in the flesh of the breast which you have noticed in carving chickens and turkeys; it is called the little filet, and lies close to the breast bone; separate this natural division from the outside of the breast. Then beginning again on the other side, cut close to the carcass of the bird until you have reached the breast, as on the other side. Now the flesh is loose on both sides of the bird, and needs only to be taken off without breaking the skin of the breast. You would bone chickens and turkeys in the same way. Take the carcass out entire. Now take out the wing and leg bones from the inside. Do not tear the skin of the bird any more than you can help. Now lay the flesh on the table, with the skin down, and straighten it out a little, distributing the flesh evenly over the skin, and it is ready to stuff. If I were making boned turkey I should have it all ready, just like this, and then put the force meat in, draw the bird up over the force meat, and sew it down the back. This bird is simply going to be broiled. Season with salt and pepper. In preparing boned birds you can use any kind of force meat--a layer of sausage meat, or any kind of chopped cold meat; season it with salt and pepper. Put the birds between the bars of the wire gridiron, and broil them with a very hot fire. The gridiron should be well buttered, so that the birds can not stick. By the time the bird is broiled brown on both sides it will be done. Of course you do half a dozen or a dozen in the same way precisely. Remember, ladies, always, that to broil you should use the hottest fire you can get--the hottest and the clearest fire, because part of the success of broiling depends upon quickly cooking the outside, while the inside of anything you are broiling still remains juicy. If you had a wood fire you would broil over the fire. If you broil over the fire you must expect the blaze to rise, and you must naturally suppose the meat will be smoked; but you can make your fire clear--that is, have it alive; do not have it smoky and full of unburnt wood or coal; have a clear bed of coals if you are going to broil over the fire.

_Question._ Do you never wash the birds before boiling?

_Answer._ No; you will find that I am very _un_-neat about that. In the first place, I would not use a piece of meat or a bird of any kind that was really dirty enough to need washing. If it had anything on it that I could not get off by wiping with a wet cloth, I simply wouldn't use it. If you wash meat or poultry you destroy a certain amount of its flavoring and take away some of its nourishment.

_Question._ Sometimes a bird shot will have a great deal of the blood settle in the breast or in the flesh.

MISS CORSON. Yes; you want the blood; you want to keep the blood there. The blood is a part of the nourishment. The idea of washing meat comes from the old Hebrew prohibition which involved the removal of every particle of blood. You know that the Hebrews believed that the blood was the life and even to this day every particle of blood is taken away from their meat, not only by washing after it comes into the house, but before that by the treatment it receives from the butcher. The blood is a part of the nourishment, and you want to keep as much of it as you can; in some cooking it forms a very important part; for instance, in cooking a hare or rabbit, the blood which escapes in the dressing is saved and used.

_Question._ Would you treat prairie chicken, grouse or partridge in this way?

MISS CORSON. Yes, in the same way.

_Question._ Not if you were going to roast turkey?

MISS CORSON. One of my good friends in the far Northwest several years ago sent me a nice recipe for making a fricassee of chicken which I will tell you. The recipe said that after the chicken was picked you might wash it thoroughly with _nice soap_, then rinse it. (Laughter.) Now if you like you can prepare it that way. No, you will find, ladies, that if you use a cloth well wet in cold water you can remove all objectionable matter from the outside of meat or poultry. Indeed, if a piece of meat or poultry can not be cleaned with a wet cloth, it is not clean enough to use. One lady asks me about keeping meat for a long time. Of course that is a question of taste entirely, whether you like meat hung a long time or whether you like it fresh. All meat, when it is first killed, whether it is poultry, or game, or the ordinary domestic meat, is very tender. It is tender until the flesh begins to grow cold, until the animal heat, etc., parts from the flesh. Then it becomes tough, rigid and hard, and remains so until the process of decomposition begins. I do not mean until it begins to taint, but until it begins to decompose; at that point it begins to grow tender; it is still fresh and good enough for food. Remember that the hanging of meat is for the purpose of allowing it to begin to decompose.

LECTURE SECOND.

Our lesson this afternoon will consist of some plain soups and stews of meat. I shall begin with a soup,--of yellow split peas. For four quarts of soup use an ordinary cupful of yellow split peas; pick them over and wash them in cold water, put them in a saucepan or a soup kettle with two quarts of cold water. Set the saucepan or soup kettle over the fire and let the water very gradually heat. When it boils put in some cold water,--part of a cupful, let them boil again; keep on putting in cold water every fifteen or twenty minutes, until you have used two quarts of cold water besides the first two quarts. The object of adding cold water slowly is this: You soften the peas by the gradual heating of the cold water. After the first boiling the addition of a little cold water lowers the temperature, and as the water heats again the peas are gradually softening; so that within an hour and a half or two hours you will find them quite tender enough. You will notice that I have used no salt; the salt would tend to harden the peas. You add salt after the soup is nearly finished. The old way of soaking the peas over night is a very good one, but this is rather better, for this reason: If you soak the peas over night you destroy a small portion of their nutritive properties; especially if you make the soup in warm water, there will be a slight fermentation. The object of soaking them over night is simply to soften them, and as you can soften them in this way you accomplish the same purpose by adding cold water gradually. You will notice that this is for perfectly plain pea soup. You can vary it by adding bones of cold ham, or of cold roast beef; you can boil the bones with the peas. In that way you get the flavor of whatever meat you add. A very nice soup is made simply with the peas without any meat, by the addition of a fried onion, for that soup you would peel and slice an onion and put it in the bottom of the soup kettle with a tablespoonful of butter or drippings,--beef drippings or poultry drippings,--and fry it light brown; then put on the peas and cold water and proceed just as we do to-day for a plain pea soup, without any addition except a seasoning of salt and pepper, and by and by a little flour and butter, which I shall put in at the close, the object of which I will explain to you then.

BEEF AND VEGETABLE SOUP.

For four quarts of soup use one cupful each of the ingredients which I shall name: lean beef cut in half-inch pieces; carrot, which must first be scraped and then cut in half-inch bits; turnip, which must be peeled and then cut in small pieces; rice, picked over, washed in cold water; tomatoes, peeled and sliced if they are fresh; but if you use canned tomatoes simply cut them in small pieces; half a cupful of onion, peeled and chopped rather fine; and four quarts of cold water. First put the water over the fire with the beef in it, and let it gradually heat; while it is heating get ready all the other ingredients that I have spoken of, and add them when the water is hot. Don't add salt for seasoning until after the soup has been cooking for a little while, because it would tend to harden the meat. When the soup is boiling, put in all the other ingredients; and after the soup has cooked for an hour, season it with salt and pepper. Cook it slowly for about two hours, or until the vegetables are tender. The length of time will depend somewhat on the season of the year. You will find that carrots and turnips, like all vegetables which have woody fibre in them, will cook more quickly early in the winter while they still have their natural moisture in them. The later in the winter it grows the drier they get, the harder the woody fibre is, and the longer it will take to cook them tender. So you will cook the soup until the vegetables are tender; and then, having seen that it is palatably seasoned, serve it with all the vegetables in it. You notice that this is a thick soup, made in an entirely different way from that which I made this morning. I think some of the ladies are here who were here this morning. Then we were making clear soup which is to be served without any vegetables in it. This is a good hearty soup for every-day use; in fact it is so hearty that you can make the bulk of a meal using this and bread or potatoes. When all the vegetables are quite tender then the soup simply is to be served.

Now, while I am preparing the soup, I want to say a little about the value of soup as a food. This comes properly into our afternoon course of instruction. Many of the ladies may not have thought of it in precisely the connection in which I am going to speak of it. Habitually, Americans do not use soup. Some have grown gradually accustomed to have soup as a part of their every-day dinner, but as a rule people have it once or twice a week. I am speaking now of average families. As a matter of fact, it ought to be used every day, because it is not only a very easy form in which to obtain nourishment, but you obtain from soup that which you would not get from any other dish; that is, you get every particle of the nourishment there is in the ingredients which you put into the soup. You can make a perfectly nutritious and palatable meal with soup at about one-half the cost of a meal without soup, because the soup, if it is savory, will be eaten with a relish; and it will satisfy the appetite for two reasons; the first I have already spoken of--because you get every particle of nourishment there is in the ingredients; and second, because directly you eat it--that is, directly it reaches the stomach, some of its nutritious liquid properties will begin to be absorbed at once. They pass directly into the system, by the process which is known in physiology as _osmosis_--that is, absorption by the coats of the stomach; so that the liquid part of the food is actually absorbed and passes into the circulation in less than five minutes after you have eaten it. A very familiar illustration of that fact was made by Sir Henry Thompson several years ago, in his exceedingly valuable article called "Food and Feeding," where he said that a hungry man eating clear soup for his dinner would feel a sense of refreshment in less than three minutes; that is, he would feel the effect of his plate of clear soup almost as soon as he would feel the stimulus which he would receive from a glass of wine. He would feel refreshed at once; his sense of hunger, which is the indication that his system needs food, would be practically appeased within three minutes from the time he had taken his soup.

Then there is another very important question; and that is the effect of soups and liquid foods on the appetite for stimulants. I am not a temperance advocate in the sense in which the word is usually understood. That is, I neither believe in nor advocate total abstinence; but I do believe in temperance--in the temperate use of everything; no matter whether it is drink, or food, or pleasure, in a life of work, so that I speak solely from the standpoint of an advocate of the moderate use of everything. The system requires a certain amount of liquid nourishment. We have to get that in the form of liquid, and many people take it by using water to excess--drinking quantities of water. On the other hand, there are some people who never drink more than a glass of water all day long. They must drink something--some kind of liquid--to make up the quantity of water that is absolutely required by the system in the course of twenty-four hours. Some persons take it in the form of tea and coffee; others drink beer and wine; but a certain amount of liquid the system must have. Now, you can easily see that you can supply a part of that liquid in the form of soups and stews. It is not possible for many people to drink much cold water: it does not seem to agree with them. The advocates of the latest craze, for hot water, will get their quantity of liquid, but they will get it in a form that by and by will make serious trouble for them; because, while under certain conditions the entire mucous membrane or lining of the digestive tract, warm water may be desirable, still the excessive use of it is very apt in time to produces a serious congestion. Now, the fact once admitted that we must have a certain amount of liquid supplied to the system every day, then the question comes of giving it in a form that will be the least injurious to the system. I think I have shown you one or two good reasons why soup supplies it well. On the score of economy there is no food which can be as cheaply prepared as soup--that is, no palatable, enjoyable, nutritious food. It is possible to make this soup, this thick soup which I am making now, in New York, and here also, I suppose, for less than ten cents a gallon, buying the materials at retail; and I am sure a gallon of this soup will go very far towards satisfying one's hunger. I presume, from what I have seen of the market reports in the papers, that it can be made here quite as cheaply as it can in New York.

_Question._ Does that make very strong soup--does it give a very good rich flavor of the meat, with one cupful of meat to a gallon of water?

MISS CORSON. That gives a perfectly nutritious soup. It gives as much nutriment from the meat as is needed by the system.

_Question._ Wouldn't a bone or two thrown in be a good thing?

MISS CORSON. You can put in bones if you want to. But I am giving you a recipe for a perfectly nutritious soup, made upon the most economical principles. The proportion of meat which I use here is all that is required by the system in connection with the other ingredients. We Americans have, as a rule, the idea that there is no nutritious food except meat. We think that we get all our nourishment from meat; and the other things--the vegetables and bread, and all those other articles of food that we eat, are what the dressmakers would call "trimmings." We do not regard them as real nourishing food, when in reality there are some vegetables which are nearly as nutritious as meat. Take for instance, lentils; I do not know if you are familiar with them. They are a variety of vetch or field pea, little flat, dried peas, that grow very abundantly; in fact, if they are once planted in a field it is almost impossible to root them out. They have been for ages used in all older countries, in Egypt, in Asia, all through Europe, especially in Germany. Within the last ten years they have become known in this country. Lentils, with the addition of a very little fat in the form of fat meat, suet drippings or butter, are quite as nutritious as meat; that is, they sustain strength, and enable people to work just as well as meat. So, you see, that so far as actual nourishment is concerned, vegetables approach closely to meat. Next to lentils come peas and beans, dried peas and beans. I have not graded the different articles of food, but some day when we have more time I will give you a table of nutritive values of different articles of food so that you can form some comparison in your own mind. Remember this, that meat is not the only nutritious article of food in use, and we only need a certain quantity of it. For instance, for the purpose of health meat once a day will answer. It is very nice to have it two or even three times if we want it, or if we can afford it; but if we have it once a day we answer all the requirements of health, and in communities where it is not possible to have an abundant supply of fresh meat, a very small proportion of salt meat used in connection with the most nutritious vegetables keeps the health and strength of the really active laborers up to the working point.

MEAT STEWS.

For a brown stew, use any kind of dark meat. To-day I am going to use some of the cooked round of beef; but you can use fresh beef; you can use raw beef, rare roast beef, or any of the dark meats; always use white meats for white stews. Presently we will make a white stew of veal; but for a brown stew use dark meats. Cut the meat in pieces about an inch and a half square, put it over the fire with enough fat of some kind to keep it from burning; use the fat of the meat, or drippings, or butter, and brown it as fast as possible. If you make a stew large enough for four or five people, use about three pounds of beef. As soon as the meat is brown, sprinkle a heaping tablespoonful of flour over it; then add enough boiling water to cover the meat, and three teaspoons of vinegar. The vinegar is used for the purpose of softening the fibres of the meat and making it tender. You will find that by adding vinegar to meat in cooking, you can always make it tender. When we come to treat of steak, I shall explain that. After the vinegar has been used, season the meat palatably with salt and pepper, cover it, and let it cook very gently for at least an hour, or until it is tender. To the stew add any vegetable you wish, or cook it perfectly plain, having only the meat and the gravy. To-day I am going to use carrots with it. For three pounds of beef use carrots enough to fill a pint bowl after they are cut in little slices, or in little quarters. Of course, if you add vegetables of any kind, carrots, turnips, or potatoes, you want to put them in long enough before the meat is done to insure their being perfectly cooked. For instance, carrots take from one to two hours to cook; I shall put the carrots in directly I make the gravy. Turnips, if they are fresh, will cook in about half an hour. Potatoes will cook in twenty minutes; small onions will cook in from half to three-quarters of an hour. The meat usually needs to cook about two hours. The meat being brown, I shall put in a tablespoonful of flour, stirring it, and then send it down to you so that you can see what it is like. The question naturally would arise about the color of this stew, throwing in raw flour, the white, uncooked flour. You can see for yourselves what the effect is.

_Question._ Does cold meat cook as long as raw?

MISS CORSON. If you use cold meat, brown it just in the same way, just exactly as we browned this, first in drippings or butter and then putting in the flour; only if you use meat which already has been cooked, it will not take it so long to cook as it does this raw meat.