Part 7

Just a word about coffee ice cream. For I don't think you will find this recipe anywhere else. And it's a pity you shouldn't know of it. Have then one pint of very strong coffee, a gill of brandy, one quart of cream and three pints of rich milk. Then freeze and be thankful whenever a hot day makes it possible for you to serve your coffee at dinner in this way.

Milk Sherbet

A great many people have a preference for sherbets and of these I have some charming things to say, for I appreciate a sherbet myself. There's a milk sherbet that suits me down to the ground. It is made of two quarts of milk, four cups of sugar, and the juice of six lemons. Also the whites whipped well of two or three or more eggs as you feel inclined to use them. Surely the lemons will curdle the milk. But don't let that disturb you. Put it in the freezer and go ahead. It will come out as right as right can be.

Strawberry Sherbet

For a strawberry sherbet made in this way I have a fondness that I am not ashamed to acknowledge anywhere: Sprinkle over one quart of strawberries half a pound of sugar; let it stand three hours, then strain through a coarse cloth, squeezing hard. To this juice add three pints of water, as much sugar as it seems to you to need, the juice of a lemon and freeze.

Pineapple Sherbet

A pineapple sherbet is made in the same way, though not as much sugar will be required probably.

Peach Sherbet

And for a peach sherbet follow the same directions, adding a wineglassful of brandy before freezing.

Currant Sherbet

A currant sherbet is a deliciously refreshing thing to have either in anticipation or in reality on a hot day. Boil a quart of water and a pound of sugar to a syrup. Skim and stir with it a pint of fresh currant juice which has been heated with a little sugar. Let this cool thoroughly, then add the beaten whites of four eggs and freeze. For myself, I am quite through shying when anyone says artificial coloring in food--I have found the vegetable colorings as innocuous as so much water, and worth their weight in gold in cases like the present, namely the coloring of this currant sherbet. The only drawback about which is that of itself it will not be pretty to the eye--therefore hesitate not, but in with a few drops of carmine coloring.

Champagne Sherbet

A champagne ice isn't such a high-roller refreshment as it sounds. To begin with it's a rank solecism to freeze any but the most inexpensive of champagnes, and then you don't require many other good things for your ice--the champagne is enough in itself. You just make a very strong and sweet lemonade--a quart of it and half freeze it; then pour in the champagne and wholly freeze the mixture. Get the champagne into the freezer as soon as you can after it is opened before its volatile gas escapes. If you prefer a more hilarious refreshment just keep on with your use of intoxicants by adding after the champagne a wineglassful of brandy. Also, if you like, you may add the beaten whites of eggs, _ad libitum_.

Champagne with Strawberries

While we are on the subject of frozen champagne and the entering wedge has done its work let me speak a good word for champagne with strawberries. Freeze together a quart of champagne and a pint of sugar syrup. Just at the last add one pint of strawberries which have been halved and quartered and marinaded in a little brandy and sugar for about fifteen minutes. Cherries used in this way will make you ready to declare that till you tried it you didn't know how to live.

Claret Sherbet

A claret sherbet is even better than it sounds if you make it in this way: Rub the peel of two oranges off with plenty of loaf sugar and then make a syrup of this sugar and a pint of water. When cool, stir in the juice of three oranges, a quart of claret, a tablespoonful of brandy and the whites of four eggs whipped to a stiff froth and freeze slowly. Sometimes there is used in this recipe the zest of lemon peel instead of oranges and then there is used some orange marmalade, heated and strained of course. Or any jelly which you may fancy goes in very harmoniously with this concoction.

Kirsch Sherbet

A kirsch sherbet is a delicacy that doesn't put itself in the way of ordinary mortals every day in the week. That's why its welcome is a soulful one when it does appear. You have a pint of chablis and a pint of any preferred fruit syrup, which you freeze. Then at the last there is added to it half a pint of kirschenwasser.

By the way, before I forget it, you may treat watermelon with the frozen champagne exactly as prescribed hereinbefore for strawberries and champagne.

All these are but a few of the ices familiar to expert cooks nowadays. But each one herein given is capable of so many variations that I am leaving that part of it to you. Do you know that I am saddened more and more every day as I contemplate the power that lies in suggestion and the stupidity of people who will not avail themselves of it? But this is not perhaps the sort of talk you look for in a book that has to do with the material things of life. Very well, we will cut it off.

AUGUST

"_Ah, you flavor everything; you are the vanilla of society._"

ABOUT the only time when I am really anxious to have the right to vote is when some legislation tending toward the preservation of the lobster is on the docket. Then, if I had the opportunity, I should not only vote with both hands for a "close season" on that delectable shellfish, but I should lecture as long as I could get any one to listen to me, either on Boston Common or in Faneuil Hall, in an endeavor to induce others, men and women, to vote with me. I believe I should even resort to bribery where I thought it would do--and I am a fair judge of individuals who don't require their "inducements" to be too heavily coated with sugar--in order to put it through.

As matters are now there are almost as many ways for preparing lobster as there are lobsters in the sea, and in order to try them all you would better be about it before the supply is utterly exhausted, or some one in authority calls "time."

Devilled Lobster

For devilling lobsters I have a budget of recipes, but this seems to be about the best one in the lot: Split the lobster, after it is boiled, in two lengthwise, and put it into a baking-pan; season with salt and cayenne, and pour over it plenty of melted butter, and bake in a hot oven for five minutes. Just before serving spread over it a sauce of melted butter thickened with flour and seasoned with a few drops of lemon juice, a sprinkling of mustard, and a little Madeira or sherry wine.

Lobster Toast

Lest you should get so attached to this devilled lobster of mine, I hasten to put here an alluring sounding recipe, hoping you may be induced to try it before forming the devilled lobster habit. First fry a sliced onion in enough butter so that there will be no browning of it. Take out the onion in two or three minutes, as it is only intended to flavor the butter, and then fry in this butter the diced meat of two boiled lobsters for two or three minutes. Sprinkle in some chopped parsley and salt and pepper as you like it. Pour over the lobster a pint of white wine, and as soon as this gets to the boiling point take out the lobster and put it on slices of toast. Into the boiling wine put all the butter from the lobsters, just a few chopped mushrooms, if they are at hand, and pour over the slices of lobster toast. Have this just as hot as possible when sending to table, and you will find the alluringness of this dish is not in the telling of it only.

Lobster Tartlet

A lobster tartlet is a gastronomical dream, let me tell you, while we are on the subject, and after you try it you will be telling the same story. You should have tartlet moulds made of the very best puff paste, which you fill with diced cold boiled lobster, chopped cooked mushrooms, a caper or two, and a bit of mayonnaise.

Lobster à la Newberg

Lobster _à la_ Newberg is such a staple dish that it seems almost like plagiarizing something or somebody to put it on record here. However, as no list of lobster dishes is correct without it, here it shall go. Cut the boiled lobster into two-inch pieces and fry over a tremendously hot fire, either in a chafing dish or on a range, for just two or three seconds; lessen the heat then, or pull the frying-pan into cooler quarters, while you cover the lobster with thick, rich cream. Let this come to a threat to boil, then stir in say three egg yolks to a pint of cream, the yolks stirred in a little cream, till it thickens a bit. Just a dash of sherry, say two tablespoonfuls, and there you are.

Stuffed Lobster Tails

For stuffing lobster tails cut the meat of the lobsters up rather finely, and add to it half its quantity of mushrooms. Fry in butter a bit, dilute with a little cream, season highly with cayenne and salt and fill the half tails with the mixture. Coat with bread crumbs that have been stirred about in melted butter, and brown in a hot oven.

Lobster Croquettes

The making of lobster croquettes is a pleasant sort of business, for there is so much anticipation of good to come stirred in with it. Cut the meat--don't chop it--rather finely: moisten with a bit of cream and the butter from the lobster. Mould and roll in crumbs and fry a golden brown. Don't go to seasoning these croquettes very highly or the delicacy will depart from them. But you know that. And do you know that you may add to almost any sauce used for boiled or baked fish some diced cooked lobster to the benefit of everything and everybody concerned? Well, you may--my word for it.

If I were to tack a sub-title to this screed it might very properly be: "Women's Luncheons," inasmuch as it was in aid of one of these mild social dissipations that I last perambulated through the markets. Very properly also I might characterize the trip as a "peripatetic wandering through the market-place," for all the while I was in quest of edibles suitable to put before a purely feminine company I was talking to myself about the probable origin of this form of hospitality. When, where, and by whom it was invented? My own conjecture as to its inception finally took this course: Algernon was in the habit of attending a great many goings-on to which women were never bidden. And Araminta frequently discussed with him the calls thus made upon his time. Whereupon it came to pass that after one particularly interesting debate on the subject, which debate was brought to an end by the sharp, quick closing of the street door, Araminta had an idea. An idea which she called an inspiration, nothing less, and it had for its starting-point a luncheon, a dainty, gay little affair, at which no black coat should be allowed to intrude. And the _pièce de résistance_ of the meal should be a sweet called "revenge." Oh, yes indeed, not only would her guests applaud her originality, but the hearts of the absent males would be torn to tatters at her assumption of independence. And doubtless Part One of the programme was carried out to the letter, but, between you and me, I don't believe Algernon ever lost a wink of sleep over it. In fact, when he settled the bill I have good reasons for mistrusting that he said something about the "game being jolly well worth the candle."

But to-day the women's luncheon is an institution, and a very chic and dainty diversion into the bargain. And there are those who make it their business to tell how a woman should be arrayed at such a festivity, but that is out of my province. If, however, you would know how the menu should read at this time of year, allow me:--

Cantaloupe. Bouillon in cups. Lobster patties. Lamb cutlets with mushrooms. String beans fried in butter. Broiled quails. Tomatoes stuffed with celery and mayonnaise. Wine ice cream. Grapes. Coffee.

I almost said oysters at the beginning of the menu, but oysters we shall have with us for several months to come, while cantaloupes are beginning to say it's about time they were going. As yet, however, they are just as delicious and no more expensive than they have been at any time through the season.

Now as for bouillon. I get it canned, and think myself very fortunate in being able to do so. But you may prefer to make your own, and if so you probably have an always reliable recipe. _Mes congratulations._

Lobster Patties

But if you have a score of recipes for making lobster patties, I honestly believe you will follow the one I am pleased to give you herein. I take myself very seriously, you see. Well, prepare some of the very best puff paste that you know how to make. Roll it out on a floured table; with a fluted cutter cut out some rounds, put them on a baking dish, set them on ice for fifteen minutes, then brush them over with beaten egg. With a plain tin cutter of about half the size of the fluted cover cut through a third of each of the rounds, dipping the cutter in warm water every time; this will form the cover when baked. Bake in a quick oven. When cooked lift off the cover and scoop out a little of the soft paste inside. For the lobster filling take the meat from a boiled lobster, cut it into very small pieces and fry a little in butter, in a very little butter, till they just threaten to brown. Then pour over the lobster bits enough thick cream to barely cover them; heat this, but don't let it boil. Thicken it with two or more beaten eggs, according to the quantity of lobster. Season delicately with salt and a suspicion of cayenne. Have the patties hot and the lobster hot, and arrange them on a hot dish for serving. For dear knows that a cold or a lukewarm patty is an abomination.

Lamb Cutlets with Mushrooms

After the patties the lamb cutlets. And, mind you, they are to be fried, not broiled. Season them well with salt and pepper, and fry in a little butter over a brisk fire till browned on both sides. Then drain off the butter and baste them with just a little Madeira wine. Dress the cutlets in a circle and pour into the centre a Madeira sauce with mushrooms. This you make by heating half a pint of any good stock, adding to it a gill of Madeira, thickening it with a little flour braided with butter, and adding at the last a dozen mushrooms that have been minced and fried moderately in a little butter. You may use sherry instead of the Madeira for basting the cutlets and for the sauce if you like. And also you may use the tinned instead of fresh mushrooms if you prefer to do so. For fresh mushrooms may not be any too plenty just now, and consequently are a thought expensive. Still, they're quite worth the price.

And now that the "law's off" probably hereabouts on quail, you will find them in pretty good condition. Indeed, they are so good that I hope you will just have them broiled after salting a bit, and pin your faith to their own delicious flavor to give delight to your guests. Have them served on toast, if you must, that has been slightly buttered, but forget to serve any jelly with them.

I've told you elsewhere all about tomatoes stuffed with celery and mayonnaise, so I won't go into particulars this time. But tomatoes will not be with us at the prices for which we can now get them a great while longer, and celery is remarkably good in quality and low in price. So there's a good broad hint for you.

Wine Ice Cream

That wine ice cream which I have recommended is truly a delightful confection. You have a pint of moderately rich cream, and you add to it the yolks of five eggs and three tablespoonfuls of sugar, and then you heat it just a trifle. Next you stir in a gill of white wine, and then you freeze it. When quite frozen stir into it some chopped preserved cherries. Then turn the cream into a mould packed in ice to set till time for serving, when it is to be turned out on a cold dish. Doesn't that sound as if it would be worth a trial?

You see I've simply said grapes in the menu because, as far as that fruit is concerned just now, it is a case of paying your money and taking your choice.

And what will the ladies have to drink? Suppose we say a sip of sherry with the bouillon and a bottle of pretty good Rhine wine to be brought in with the cutlets. And it doesn't seem to me that it would be overdoing the matter to have a cordial finale--say crème yvette, or crème de cacao à la vanille.

Of course, I will tell you the approximate cost of such a luncheon. With good management it can be served, inclusive of the wines, for twelve dollars for a dozen persons. And that is not bad, now, is it?

Didn't you just enjoy that cooling little _entr'acte_ we had in July? I did. Let's have another. We will not have anything sweet in this, however, we will have it cold and savory. Doesn't that hit you favorably? There are plenty of cold and dainty savories that may come to table as your chief dish at luncheon or at dinner or as an entrée only, at the latter meal, according to the degree with which you manage to put on style.

Cold Chicken Cream

There's chicken cream, for instance, made from a cold boiled or roasted--well, bird. I don't know whether it's chicken or fowl. Perhaps you paid for chicken and got fowl. Perhaps you paid for fowl and wheedled the provisioner into giving you chicken. But we will say chicken, anyway. Pick, then, all the flesh from the chicken, mince and then pound it. Now add to it half a pint of cream stiffly whipped and half a pint of just liquid aspic jelly. Season with salt and white pepper and any other condiment if you like. Then have one large or several small moulds and line them with aspic jelly and fill with the chicken cream. Let set till cold and stiff and then unmould on slices of very thin fried bread. Chop parsley and sprinkle over the creams when unmoulded.

Chicken Cream with Tomato

Another way would be to line the moulds with liquid aspic and a little tomato sauce. When this sets fill with the chicken cream as before. If you like the cream may be omitted from the chicken and when it is unmoulded it may be covered with a French dressing or with mayonnaise.

Any remains of cold meat can be chopped finely, mixed with shredded lettuce or watercress or parsley, capers, stoned olives, a truffle or two and mayonnaise, with enough liquid aspic to stiffen it and moulded in any way.

These do make delicious presentations of old subjects--just a little labor and a little inventive painstaking and you have accomplished wonders. There are so many garnishes that may be used with these cold things to make them more of a delight that it is impossible to go through the list. Sliced tomatoes or cucumbers or some cold cooked vegetable with a French dressing--any quantity of them you see once you begin to cast about for them.

No one knows better than I do that to make the conventional aspic jelly is a labor that involves terrible risks as regards the breaking of the commandment concerning profanity. I don't mind telling you that I found it was having such a degenerating effect on my whole moral nature that I hit upon using just the best gelatine I can buy--this is not the place to name it, however--and dissolving it in a clear stock--white or brown as the case demands. Try it in making these aspic things.

Cold Cutlets in Jelly

You know, of course, that cold cutlets are the most impossible left-over thing with which the housekeeper has to deal. But prepare some savory jelly with stock and tomato sauce and coat these left-over cutlets with it some day and have them for luncheon. You will confess that you have learned something worth knowing.

Then there are numberless kinds of fish, almost any kind in fact that doesn't run to bone, that will flake well; dip the pieces in a jelly of this kind diluted with any kind of sauce--Hollandaise, vinaigrette, tomato, and so on to the end of the list. Now, mind, when I say coat these viands with this jelly I don't mean for you to give them a regular ulster for a coat--but a little thin diaphanous jacket, suitable for hot weather, you understand.

When you can use cream in the jellies, either whipped or straight, the daintiness of them is increased by just so much.

There are some kinds of game--dark game especially--that you may slice and coat with this jelly using currant jelly with it also and get some combinations that will drive your friends to despair.

Bear in mind that these jellied things must be kept on ice till served and the plates on which they are served must also be ice-cold. It does seem too bad for me to have to burden my soul with such instructions for you--they should be needless. But when good fortune takes me to luncheon in a crack hotel and I get my salad on a hot plate, or a hot plate set before me for the serving of it, I am forced to the conclusion that the mental lightweights are still in evidence and there's no knowing but what some of them in a moment of lucidity may become the owner of this book. Therefore I go into tiresome details, occasionally.

SEPTEMBER

"_But the fruit that falls without shaking Indeed is too mellow for me._"

THERE are persons, as some of us can testify, who appear to be horrified if a Manhattan cocktail is mentioned in the most casual manner, and who are warranted to shy if they but get a whiff of a Martini, but give them a chance to partake of an oyster cocktail and you have added a substantial item to their sum of worldly pleasure.

Almost everybody likes an oyster cocktail when it is judiciously mixed, but folk of the ilk above referred to do seem to have a peculiar fondness for it. Now, is it because a course of total abstinence has rendered their palates extremely sensitive to highly seasoned impressions, or is it that the name has a witchery that beguiles them into thinking that they are tasting a forbidden thing without sacrificing a principle? I don't know. You tell.

Oyster Cocktail

And tell me, too, if this is the way you set about preparing one of these palate-ticklers. Half a dozen little oysters dropped into a glass, with their juice, a little lemon juice, four miserly drops of Tabasco sauce, half a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce, a dessertspoonful of tomato ketchup, and several grains of salt. Or do you substitute horse-radish for the Tabasco? They tell me it's frequently done, but for myself I prefer the Tabasco. It is a vexed question, anyway, this matter of what shall be put on a raw oyster to make it more palatable; the real dyed-in-the-wool epicurean vows that it is nothing short of barbarism to use more than the tiniest pinch of salt, while many a discriminating gourmet declares that the more you do for an oyster the more it does for you. So there you are.

Baked Oysters

But epicureans and laymen alike are agreed on one point, and that is the way to bake oysters so that they are worthy of a place on any table. Put into a small lined stewpan a quarter of a pound of butter and one teacupful of cream, stirring it well over a quick fire till hot. Add a wineglass of sherry, a tablespoonful of anchovy sauce, and a skimpy sprinkling of cayenne and grated lemon peel. Stir over the fire till it bubbles once. Then pour half of the mixture into a baking dish. Lay the oysters on it, besprinkle them with a scanty covering of bread-crumbs and grated Parmesan cheese, with salt and pepper. Pour the remainder of the cream over all and brown to a good color.

Once one gets in the way of baking oysters as herein prescribed, one's recipe for scalloped oysters, no matter how true and tried, will be lost sight of.

Oyster Stew with Cream