Part 50

Champagne should have a temperature of thirty-four. To cool this it should be laid on the ice—the dry, for a half or three-quarters of an hour; the sweet, several hours before using. Great care should be taken when putting the bottles on the ice not to shake them.

SOME STUDIES OF COLOR IN FAMILY DINNERS

A green and white dinner

In the springtime you will have no difficulty in finding pale green leaves or delicate ferns with which to grace your table. Blossoms, such as the snow-drop, or the white wood-anemone, may be surrounded by fragile ferns and serve as a dainty floral piece for the middle of the table. Pear blossoms, with their bright green leaves, will form an attractive mass of flowers and foliage. If you have a center-piece and doilies embroidered with green silk, make use of them for this family dinner. If you do not possess such, your plain damask will be entirely in keeping. Your menu may be as follows:

Cream of Spinach Soup Lamb Chops Mashed Potatoes, Green Peas Lettuce Salad Cocoanut and Citron Layer Cake Crackers and Sage Cheese Coffee

A pink dinner

(For Friday.)

The month of June is the time of all the year for a pink dinner, for then the table may be decked with a profusion of pink roses that will delight the heart of the flower-lover. Set a huge bowl of these upon a white, or pink-and-white center-piece, dropping a bud or half-blown rose here and there upon the table-cloth. Have your lights softened by pink shades, and use as much white, or pink-and-white china as you have at your command.

Have the following menu:

Cream of Beet Soup Boiled Salmon Potatoes Fried Whole, Tomato Soufflé Beet and Celery Salad Strawberry Sponge Pink-and-White Cake Crackers and Cheese Coffee

A brown dinner

Need not be a somber array if you will give it in autumn, and study the countless shades of golden-brown, olive-brown, redbrown, greenish-brown, and even the purple-brown of the oak—exquisite and indescribable—which field, forest and fen offer to one who has the true artist’s love for color. Decorate your table and the room with autumn leaves, keeping the color scheme in mind all the time. Have brown nuts, and chocolate, and coffee bonbons, and if there be no brown china upon your shelves, see to it that there are no discordant hues.

MENU

Bean Soup Braised Beef Boiled Potatoes—browned Baked Onions Scalloped Tomatoes Salad of “Mignonette” Lettuce Chocolate Pudding Coffee Graham Crackers Camembert Cheese

A yellow dinner

Cream of Cheese Soup Boiled Fowls with Egg Sauce Stewed Carrots Yellow Turnips Buttered Rice Macedoine Salad French Tapioca Custard American Cheese Egg Crackers Café au Lait

Goldenrod, if in the autumn; daffodils in the early spring; coreopsis in summer, for decorations.

AN EVENING RECEPTION AND A CHAFING-DISH SUPPER

The old-fashioned evening party—which was by no means a dancing party, nor even a card party—has almost gone out of date. In this rushing day it seems next to impossible to pass an evening with one’s friends with only conversation to make the time glide pleasantly. If there is no special amusement for the sake of which the company is assembled, there must be music or recitations, or something else to prevent the guests from boring one another.

Still, once in a while even now there is an old-fashioned party. More often it takes the form of a reception to meet this or that distinguished person, or to celebrate some occasion. At such affairs, as at a wedding reception, it appears to be necessary to make up to the guests for the boredom they are presumably suffering by carrying out the principle—“feed the brute.” Accordingly, an elaborate collation is spread, and the men and women who have no other especially cheerful recollection of the evening, can at least testify that they have eaten and drunk well.

For such events the supper is a pretty serious affair, and unless the hostess has well-trained servants she would better commit the matter into the hands of professionals. Still, if she be one who herself looks well to the ways of her household, and has her own ample corps of competent domestics, she may, perhaps, achieve the supper without turning to outside help. In this case the refreshments will amount to much less in cost than if she relied upon professional caterers and waiters.

For the supper, which is to supply a large evening party, the bill of fare may, in a measure, resemble that already suggested for an extensive afternoon tea or reception. I give two menus, either of which is entirely suitable for an evening collation.

MENU FOR EVENING SUPPER.

I

Bouillon Creamed or Scalloped Oysters Lobster, Shrimp, or Chicken Salad Sandwiches, or Thin Bread-and-butter Ices and Parfaits, Cakes, Coffee, Fruit Punch

MENU FOR EVENING SUPPER.

II

Bouillon, Oyster Croquettes, Sweetbread in pâtés Salmon, or Chicken Salad Cold Turkey, or Chicken Mousses, Biscuits and other Ices Fancy Cakes Fruit Coffee Iced Tea Punch

The table is set in the dining-room, which is not opened until late in the evening. Everything that the house possesses in the way of handsome china, cut glass and silver may be called into requisition to beautify the occasion. There is usually a corps of waiters in attendance, although the gentlemen are also expected to do their duty in fetching and carrying, and in serving the ladies under their escort. There are times when they do nearly all the helping to the various dishes as well, but this custom grows less and less common.

Usually the table has a center-piece of flowers and fruit, which is meant for beauty rather than for use. If fruit is to be passed it is either served in smaller dishes, or is taken with care from the foot of the central pyramid, where its loss will not interfere with the beauty of the table. Piles of plates, napkins, knives, forks and spoons are arranged on the main table, or on a sideboard, and the dishes of salad, sandwiches, oysters, etc., are also on the principal table.

Such a supper as this is appropriate for a dancing party, a wedding reception or any other form of evening gaiety. As a rule, there is also a bowl of punch in evidence in the hall near the drawing-room to allay the thirst of those who can not wait until the full supper is served.

For smaller parties, like card parties, club reunions and the like, so elaborate a bill of fare is not necessary or desirable. For such functions as these the chafing-dish has supplied a felt want. With little trouble and comparatively small expense it is possible for the owner of a chafing-dish to set out a feast that will hardly fail to satisfy even a hungry college boy.

A couple of bills of fare are herewith suggested for the use of the hostess whose experience with the chafing-dish has been too limited to take her beyond the realm of lobster à la Newburg and Welsh rarebit. The amateur generally fancies that these are the only combinations which lie within the range of the chafing-dish, and it comes to him as a surprise to be told that there are scores of toothsome dainties he can manage if he have the knack of the chafing-dish.

CHAFING-DISH SUPPER.

I

Pigs in Blankets Chicken Bouillon Thin Bread-and-Butter Welsh Rarebit Ale or Beer Coffee

CHAFING-DISH SUPPER.

II

Scotch Woodcock Crackers Oysters or Clams, creamed Lettuce Sandwiches Cheese Fondu Coffee

For a chafing-dish supper there should be no more guests than can group themselves comfortably about the dining-room table. As a rule, the dishes that are prepared are not of the variety that one can eat readily from a plate balanced on the knee, or in the hand. If the main table be not large enough to permit of all being seated about it, there may be smaller tables for the “overflow.” If one chafing-dish is too small to prepare as much as the appetites of the eaters crave, there may be one at each end of the table, and there should be an expert in charge of each.

The table may be simply set—either bare, or covered with a plain cloth. Flowers are out of place in the middle of it, as interfering with the free view of the chafing-dish by the guests. For it makes no difference how often one has seen a dish cooked, there is always curiosity to see it done once more. About the chafing-dish are placed all the paraphernalia that attend upon that kind of cookery—the condiments, the utensils, the spoons, forks, knives, measuring cups and the like. In chafing-dish cookery nothing can wait, and everything that by any chance can be needed must be there in advance.

Let no one be so deluded by any amount of theoretical knowledge as to venture to make a maiden essay at chafing-dish cookery in the presence of a company of guests. There should always be a rehearsal beforehand. Nowhere else is stage fright more imminent. Nowhere else has it more disastrous possibilities.

If feasible there should be a servant at hand with a supply of hot dishes. All the other work of cooking and waiting may be performed by the hostess and her guests. The occasion should be most informal. Persons who can not unbend readily should never go to chafing-dish parties. They will find themselves much out of place. To those who are fond of easy laughter and simple fun and a good deal of nonsense, and whose digestions—this is chiefest of all—are in good working order, there are few social relaxations that are pleasanter than a chafing-dish “affair.”

Some recipes which may be cooked in a chafing-dish

[References are to pages.]

Scrambled eggs (79) Mince of tongue and eggs (81) Mince of ham and eggs (81) Eggs and tomatoes (85) Olla podrida omelet (86) Corn omelet (448) Scrambled eggs with cheese (86) Rice omelet (86) Fish omelet (87) Ham omelet (87) Minced eggs (88) Creamed oysters (145) Oyster stew (148) Curried oysters (149) Lobster à la Newburg (154, 347) Creamed lobster (154) Curry of lobster (154) Deviled lobster (155) Crabs and champignons (156) Buttered shrimps (157) Curried shrimps (157) Shrimps and eggs (158) Maryland terrapin (158) Curry of salmon (162) Pigs in blankets (151) Broiled oysters (146) Panned oysters (149) Oyster omelet (83) Creamed clams (152) Sardine eggs (160) Creamed codfish (104) A “pick up” of fish (164) A “toss up” of veal (172) Broiled mushrooms (135, 459) Stewed kidneys (119) Creamed potatoes (473) Cream toast (76) Anchovy croutons (161) Sautés oysters (152) Cheese omelet (85) Creamed chicken (125, 196) Curried chicken (172) Broiled chicken (124, 407) Creamed sweetbreads (122) Frizzled beef and eggs (180) Nonpareil Welsh rarebit (202) Cream cheese golden buck (202) Oysters with mushrooms (150)

FAMILIAR TALK

COMMON SENSE AND “ETIQUETTE”

A bright young fellow told the anecdote at a dinner party. I borrow it for the occasion.

A self-making man in process of manufacture, dined with a more sophisticated friend at a city restaurant. When the soup was brought on, the S. M. M. prepared for business by laying a slice of bread on the cloth, and troweling it with butter. His host, who had been requested by the guest to “coach him a little in city ways,” said mildly:

“That isn’t quite the thing, old man! Break off a bit of bread and butter it, as you wish to eat it.”

“All right!” said the other, “I want to know about the latest touches.”

His next solecism was to fish up a bit of meat from the dish with his own fork, and his friend again set him right. Blunder No. 3 was putting his knife into his mouth; No. 4 was cutting up his salad; No. 5, sandwiching cheese between two crackers and crunching it noisily; No. 6 was creaming black coffee.

“I say!” he broke in at this point, still good-humoredly, “what do you call all these fool rules you’ve been telling me? I s’pose a fellow ought to know something about them. But they come hard, at first.”

“I suppose,” said the mentor, somewhat nonplussed, “that they may all be classed under the head of table etiquette.”

“Et-er-ket!” slowly and thoughtfully. “Well, I say, old fellow—there ain’t many that has got on to it yet—is there?” Resisting the temptation to dwell upon the many who never “get on to it,” let us look for the commonsensible basis of certain minor social usages which are accepted as matters of course by well-bred people, and contemned by the boorish and ignorant as “fool rules” that hamper personal liberty.

Few conventionalities are arbitrary. Most of them are reasonable, many so just as to be binding upon the lovers of decency and order, not to say healthfulness.

To carry food to the mouth with the knife-blade is awkward, and if the knife have an edge, unsafe. If I were at the point of death, I should laugh and blush together at the memory of the commotion excited in a London family hotel last year by the exclamation of an American tourist who jumped up from the dinner-table and clapped his napkin to his mouth with—“Waiter! Never put a sharp knife at my place again! I have cut my mouth badly! It might have done serious harm!”

The rule against touching fish with a knife dates back to a time when steel knives were in general use. Steel imparts an unpleasant taste to the more delicate kinds of cooked fish. Hence, the custom of leaving the knife beside the plate, and using the fork alone during the fish course.

A like rule obtains with regard to salads. To cut is to bruise the tender esculents, and to injure the flavor. The leaves of lettuce should be torn apart in preparing it for the table, with as little handling as possible, and eaten as soon as the salad is dressed. Other salads—as beets, celery, etc., are cut up and ready for eating when sent to table. To use the knife upon them is a reflection upon cook and host.

To butter a whole slice of bread at once—especially when it is laid on the table in order to do it—is slovenly, wasteful and awkward. If eaten as a whole, one must gnaw or nibble at it, and to cut it after it is buttered is neither neat nor convenient.

The fashion of finger-bowl and napkin would seem to commend itself to everybody as eminently cleanly and comfortable. Yet there are still well-to-do people who sneer at the idea of “doing one’s washing at the table.”

The by-law obeyed by the transient guest who lays his napkin carelessly on the table when the meal is over, instead of folding it, is easily understood. To fold it implies that it may be used again before it is washed.

“Mr. Blank has no napkin, James!” said a hostess of the _nouveau riche_ order, to her butler.

“I beg pardon!” interposed the guest, lifting a corner of the napkin from his knee that she might see her mistake. “I have one.”

“Ah!” with an apologetic smile. “I saw that you did not have it _on_!”

To tuck the napkin into the collar, or pin it around the neck before attacking one’s food may be a wise precaution if one has never learned to convey it to the mouth without dropping or dripping it. Gentlemen are supposed to have put away bibs with other childish things. The suggestion of putting a napkin “on” is not agreeable. The place for the useful bit of fine linen is on the knee or lap, out of sight of fellow-eaters.

Black coffee in after-dinner coffee cups is a digestive agent—a gastronomic expletive—not a beverage. To cream it is to pervert its meaning, and to defeat the end for which it is served. It is well known that the addition of cream or milk to coffee causes a chemical change in both ingredients. To some stomachs creamed coffee, or _café au lait_, is poisonous. Clear black coffee is a tonic, and agrees with everybody.

To toss off a glass of water as soon as one sits down to a meal is an infringement of table-etiquette. Those who recognize the fact do not always bethink themselves of the reason lying back of the “fool rule.” To fill the stomach with iced water is to check the process of digestion temporarily. To add to the water a plateful of hot soup is to disgust the diaphragm by a load of lukewarm liquid, very like the dish-water in the pan of an untidy scullion.

I might go on, _ad infinitum_, multiplying instances of what are sneered at by the untaught and unthinking slaves of their own prejudices as foolish and useless limitations to a man’s right to eat, drink and make merry after his own fashion. Which—I may observe—is usually the fashion of the beasts that perish.

Enough has been said to give credit to the sagacity and humanity of those who set the pace for our better classes—better in so far as they conserve the best interests of the race, and lend countenance to all that is kindly, wholesome and comely.

“CANNED GOODS”

CANNED FRUITS

I clip from a family paper an item linking ancient and modern housewifery:

“It is a singular fact that we are indebted to Pompeii for the great industry of canned fruits. Years ago, when the excavations were just beginning, a party of Americans found, in what had been the pantry of a house, many jars of preserved figs. One was opened, and its contents were fresh and good. Investigation showed that the figs had been put into the jar in a heated state; an aperture had been left for the steam to escape and then sealed with wax. The hint was taken, and the next year fruit-canning was introduced in the United States.”

There is no reason why canned fruits which have kept one year should not keep for a hundred years in a dark place. The light acts chemically upon the contents. If not properly canned they will spoil within a few weeks. Hence, no preliminary which will make this, the heaviest work of the summer, thorough, yet as easy as possible, should be neglected.

Granite or porcelain lined kettles, with bales and lips for convenience in pouring, and which are free from all blemish or break in the glazing, are almost essential for this work. They should be broad, that considerable surface may be exposed to the heat, and deep enough to prevent boiling over.

A small, sharp-pointed knife for paring; also, an old silver-plated knife ground to a fine edge, will be found convenient for articles which a steel knife might discolor.

Wooden spoons, a wire spoon, large and small silver spoons, scales, a hair sieve, an agate-iron colander, a wooden masher, a fruit press, coarse and fine cheese-cloth, and fine cotton and wool flannel, are almost essential to the sort of work I have indicated.

Quart and pint glass jars, with large tops, are the best for general use. See that the glass covers are free from nicks, the spring, or clamp, in perfect order, and that the rubbers are new and free from cracks. A few jars of the two-quart size will not be amiss if you plan to can large fruit whole.

Use the best granulated sugar, and “agate-nickel-steel” or porcelain-lined ware as kettles.

Canned tart apples

Peel and quarter firm apples, throwing them into cold water as you do so. Weigh the fruit and allow two pounds of granulated sugar to eight pounds of apples. Put the apples into a preserving-kettle, pour over them barely enough cold water to cover them, and let them cook gently until tender. While these are cooking, make a syrup by mixing the sugar with water (allowing a cupful of water to each pound of sugar) and bringing to a boil. Cook for four minutes, then lift the tender apples from the water, lay them gently in the syrup, simmer for a minute, and while very hot, put into self-sealing jars. These apples make excellent pies.

Canned sweet apples

Core campfield, or “pound sweets,” or other sweet apples, dropping them in water as you do this. When all are ready, pack in heated glass cans. Have at hand a syrup made by mixing a cupful of sugar with a cupful of water, allowing this quantity to every two-quart can. Boil hard fifteen minutes, adding the juice of half a lemon for every two cups of sugar. Roll the cans in hot water before putting in the apples; fill at once with the boiling syrup, and set in a bake-pan of hot water, then in a good oven. When the syrup is again at the boiling point, seal immediately.

Larger apples may be put up in this way by coring and quartering. They are delicious eaten with cream.

Canned apple sauce

Cut up tart apples without paring, leaving out the cores. Put over the fire with a cupful of water in the bottom of a large kettle to prevent burning, and cook soft. Rub through a colander to get rid of the peel, reheat to the boiling point, add two tablespoonfuls of sugar to each pint of the sauce, stirring it over the fire; fill the jars to overflowing and seal while boiling-hot. It will keep well for years, and be most acceptable when apples are scarce.

Canned seckel pears

Peel the pears, dropping them into cold water as you do so, to prevent their turning dark. To every two quarts of fruit allow a quart of water and a half-pound of granulated sugar. Bring the sugar and water to a boil, and when bubbling lay the pears in this syrup. Boil until the fruit can be pierced with a straw. Pack the hot fruit in air-tight cans, fill to overflowing with the boiling syrup and seal.

Canned pears, unpeeled

Wash and core large, firm pears in cold water, put into a kettle, cover with cold water, and simmer gently until tender, but not until they begin to break or crumble. Remove from the fire and spread in pans to cool. Make a syrup of a pound of sugar to four pounds of the fruit and a quart of water, and boil for five minutes, then add the juice of two lemons. Pack the pears carefully into jars, fill the jars to overflowing with the scalding liquid, and seal.

Canned peaches

Peel, stone and halve the peaches, dropping them into cold water as you do so. Allow a cupful of sugar to four quarts of fruit. Pour a cupful of water into the bottom of a preserving-kettle, put in a layer of peaches, sprinkle with sugar, add more peaches and more sugar until all the fruit is used. Bring slowly to a boil, and do not cook for more than fifteen minutes. Can and seal immediately, boiling-hot.

Canned plums

To six quarts of plums allow a cupful, each, of sugar and water. Wipe the plums and prick each with a needle. Put the sugar and water into a porcelain kettle, and lay the plums in this. Bring slowly to a boil and cook for five minutes. Put the plums into jars and fill these to overflowing with the boiling liquid. Seal at once.

Canned green gages

Prick each plum in two places with a darning-needle. To every pound of fruit allow a half-pound of sugar and a half cupful of water. Bring the sugar and water to a boil, lay the plums in this, and simmer for five minutes. Pack the plums in jars, fill with boiling syrup and seal.

Canned cherries

To every pound of washed and stemmed Morello cherries allow a half-pound of sugar. Put the sugar over the fire with enough water to dissolve it, and boil to a thin syrup. As the scum rises to the top of the liquid, remove it. Turn the cherries into the boiling liquid, and cook for five minutes. Remove the cherries from the kettle, pack into pint jars, fill with the boiling syrup, and fit on air-tight lids.

These cherries may be used in filling baked pastry-shells, and thus form delicious tarts.

Canned rhubarb

Rhubarb may be canned the same as cherries, cut in inch lengths without peeling; allow three-fourths of a pound of sugar to a pound of fruit. Scald quickly, fill jars and seal.

Canned raspberries (1)

To each quart of raspberries allow a half teacupful of water and a half-pound of granulated sugar. Cover the berries with the sugar, and let them stand for an hour. Put berries and sugar over the fire with the water, bring to a hard boil, then can.

Canned blackberries