Part 19

A conjuror or Papin’s digester is a very economical Utensil. It will dress a steak deliciously, with the addition of a little catsup, or with oysters, &c.—It boils water in a few minutes.

To keep meat hot, when done, take it up, set the dish over a pan of boiling water, put a deep cover over it, and throw a clean cloth over that.

Broiled beef steaks, mutton-chops, &c. should always be sent to the table _hot and hot_.

Whole peas are better than split peas for soup, in winter. It is a good practice to steep them an hour or more in cold water, before they are boiled.

_Wines_ and _spices_ should not be put into _soups_, _stews_, &c. too early, as the heat evaporates both the spirit and the flavour.

_Vermicelli_, when used in _soups_, &c. should not be suffered to remain in it more than fifteen minutes, as it will become a paste.

Dripping will do as well as butter to baste any thing.

A small quantity of cream is better than flour and water, in melting butter.

Much butter is not to be recommended on all occasions.

When the palate is become dull by frequent tasting, wash the mouth with milk;—or eat an apple.

A bit of bread stuck upon the point of the knife with which you peel or cut onions, will prevent their disagreeable effect on the eyes.

A kettle of water kept boiling, over a charcoal fire, will effectually prevent its deleterious effects in the room.

COALS. Judicious Cooks will perform their culinary operations with much less coal than those who erroneously conceive that the greater the fire, the greater the dispatch. _Time_, rather than a fierce fire, answers _best_ both for roasting and boiling meats.—Round coals are best for use, and small coal should never be thrown on a weak fire, as it will stop the progress of the air through the fire; and perhaps extinguish it. But small coal, or culm, a little wetted, and thrown at the back of a good fire, will become cinders or coke, and greatly improve it.

All the ashes of the kitchen and other grates should be sifted, and the cinders saved, to be used under the boilers in brewing and washing, or in the ironing stove.

A simple and excellent contrivance for sifting cinders may be purchased at the Ironmongers.

Omelets should be made to eat full and thick at the mouth. They should be sent up quite hot, after dinner, and are wholesome, and great favourites in most countries.

A little sugar much improves the taste of green peas.

Potted meats make excellent sandwiches.

Sandwiches should be neatly cut in mouthfuls, so as to be taken up with a fork.

_Maxims._

Do every thing in the proper time.

Keep every thing in its proper place.

Use every thing for its proper use.

Never use any boiling or stewing utensil, pot or pan, spit, cookhold, spoon, ladle, or skewer, sieve, tammy or pudding cloth, jelly bag, net, tape, or other kitchen article, that have not been well scalded or washed with boiling water, and thoroughly dried.

_The Cook’s Catechism._

_Browning_ A preparation of white sugar, browned over the fire, and then diluted to the consistency of soy, for the purpose of colouring soups, gravies, &c.

_Bechamel_ A simple white gravy or sauce

_To Braize_ To stew over a slow fire

_Consommé_ A rich soup or gravy consumed over the fire to the consistency of a jelly, to be diluted and converted, when wanted, into soup

_Cullis_ A rich _brown_ gravy, made in various ways, according to the purpose for which it is intended

_Entrés_ Dishes for a first course

_Entremets_ Dishes for a second course

_Esculents_ } Animal or Vegetable food—any article that _or Edibles_} may be eaten

_Fricandeau_ A sort of Scotch collops

_Fricassee_ Fowls, rabbits, or other things cut to pieces and dressed with a strong white sauce

_Garnishes_ Articles laid round a dish by way of ornament, and generally, but not always, intended to be eaten therewith

_Glaze_ A very rich sauce or gravy boiled to a thick substance, and preserved in pots, to be laid on with a long-haired brush, over high-seasoned dishes

_To Glaze_ To cover the outsides of hams, tongues, and all stewed dishes, with glaze or braize, to give them a rich appearance

_Harrico_ Veal, mutton, &c. stewed with vegetables

_Hot-Bath_ A pan or other vessel filled with water, and placed in a pot, which is kept boiling over the fire, for the purpose of scalding fruits, or preparing meats

_Maigre_ Soup, or any other dish, made without meat or gravy

_To Pass_ To dress a thing partially, by setting on, or shaking it over the fire for a short time

_Ragoût_ Or stewing or boiling meat or other articles, to preserve their juices

_To Sheet_ To line the inside of a dish with paste

_Stock_ A preparation from gravy meats, &c. always to be kept at hand, for the purpose of making soup or gravy

We have now initiated our honest candidate for culinary fame, by regular and easy gradations, into the whole _arcana_ of the profession,—taught her to judge of the natures and qualities of provisions, and their comparative values;—the best seasons and methods of purchasing, and of managing undressed animal and vegetable food; and the general economy of the LARDER;—Have given her the plainest elementary principles and precepts, and a few of the most simple examples, for practice, in all the various branches of boiling, roasting, baking, broiling, frying, &c.—the best methods of making soups, gravies, sauces, and salads: and, lastly, the modern mode of preparing _a good dinner, with all its most approved accompaniments_. In fine, we have been anxious, not only to instruct the common cook in the rudiments, and all the ordinary operations of her art, but how to combine, both in principle and practice, the most elegant with the most useful results; so as to enable her to please both the man of taste and the man of temperance;—the economist and the epicure;—the whimsical and the wise;—those who eat to live, and those who live to eat.—Under the head Housekeeper, we have also given ample instructions for making PASTRY, CONFECTIONARY, PRESERVES, and PICKLES, which frequently fall within the province of the cook. The whole comprises, as it were in a nut-shell, a complete compendium of culinary knowledge, chiefly valuable for its comprehensive brevity, and which, we trust, will be found, by the ingenious practitioner, full as useful as many, more elaborate volumes, professedly written on this subject _only_, and published at not less, if not more than the whole price of this little Work.

_Dean Swift’s ironical directions to the Cook._

Although I am not ignorant, that it hath been a long time since the custom began among people of quality to keep men cooks, and generally of the _French_ nation; yet because my treatise is chiefly calculated for the general run of knights, ’squires, and gentlemen both in town and country, I shall therefore apply to you, Mrs. Cook, as a woman; however, a great part of what I intend may serve for either sex: and your part naturally follows the former; because the butler and you are joined in interest; your vails are generally equal, and paid when others are disappointed; you can junket together at nights upon your own prog, when the rest of the house are a-bed; and have it in your power to make every fellow-servant your friend; you can give a good bit or a good sup to the little masters and misses, and gain their affections: a quarrel between you is very dangerous to you both, and will probably end in one of you being turned off, in which fatal case, perhaps, it will not be so easy in some time to cotton with another. And now, Mrs. Cook, I proceed to give you my instructions, which I desire you will get some fellow-servant in the family to read to you constantly one night in every week when you are going to bed; whether you serve in town or country, for my lessons shall be fitted for both.

If your lady forgets at supper, that there is any cold meat in the house, do not you be so officious as to put her in mind of it; it is plain she did not want it; and if she recollects it the next day, say she gave you no orders, and it is spent; therefore, for fear of telling a lie, dispose of it with the butler, or any other crony, before you go to bed.

Never send up a leg of a fowl at supper, while there is a cat or a dog in the house, that can be accused for running away with it: but if there happen to be neither, you must lay it upon the rats, or a strange hound.

It is ill house-wifery to foul your kitchen rubbers with wiping the bottoms of the dishes you send up, since the table-cloth will do as well, and is changed every meal.

Never clean your spits after they have been used; for the grease left upon them by meat is the best thing to preserve them from rust; and when you make use of them again, the same grease will keep the inside of the meat moist.

If you live in a rich family, roasting and boiling are below the dignity of your office, and which it becomes you to be ignorant of; therefore leave that work wholly to the kitchen-maid, for fear of disgracing the family you live in.

If you are employed in marketing, buy your meat as cheap as you can, but when you bring in your accounts, be tender of your master’s honour, and set down the highest rate; which, besides, is but justice, for nobody can afford to sell at the same rate that he buys, and I am confident that you may charge safely; swear that you gave no more than what the butcher and poulterer asked. If your lady orders you to set up a piece of meat for supper, you are not to understand that you must set it up all; therefore, you may give half to yourself and the butler.

Good cooks cannot abide what they justly call fiddling work, where abundance of time is spent and little done: such, for instance, is the dressing of small birds, requiring a world of cookery and clutter, and a second or third spit, which by the way is absolutely needless; for it will be a very ridiculous thing indeed, if a spit which is strong enough to turn a sirloin of beef, should not be able to turn a lark; however, if your lady be nice, and is afraid that a large spit will tear them, place them handsomely in the dripping-pan, where the fat of roasted mutton or beef falling on the birds, will serve to baste them, and so save both time and butter: for what cook of any spirit would lose her time in picking larks, wheat-ears, and other small birds? Therefore, if you cannot get the maids, or the young misses to assist you, e’en make short work, and either singe or flay them; there is no great loss in the skins, and the flesh is just the same.

If you are employed in marketing, do not accept a treat of a beef-steak and a pot of ale from the butcher, which I think in conscience is no better than wronging your master; but do you always take that perquisite in money if you do not go in trust, or in poundage when you pay the bills.

The kitchen bellows being usually out of order with stirring the fire with the muzzle to save the tongs and poker, borrow the bellows out of your lady’s bed-chamber, which being least used, are commonly the best in the house; and if you happen to damage or grease them, you have a chance to have them left entirely for your own use.

Let a blackguard boy be always about the house to send on your errands, and go to market for you on rainy days, which will save your clothes, and make you appear more creditable to your mistress.

If your mistress allows you the kitchen-stuff, in return for her generosity take care to boil and roast your meat sufficiently. If she keeps it for her own profit, do her justice, and, rather than let a good fire be wanting, enliven it now and then with the dripping, and the butter that happens to turn to oil.

Send up your meat well stuck with skewers, to make it look round and plump; and an iron skewer rightly employed now and then will make it look handsomer.

When you roast a long joint of meat, be careful only about the middle, and leave the two extreme parts raw, which may serve another time, and will also save firing.

When you scour your plates and dishes, bend the brim inwards, so as to make them hold the more.

Always keep a large fire in the kitchen, when there is a small dinner, or the family dines abroad, that the neighbours, seeing the smoke, may commend your master’s house-keeping: but when much company is invited, then be as sparing as possible of your coals, because a great deal of the meat, being half raw, will be saved, and serve next day.

Boil your meat constantly in _pump_ water, because you must sometimes want river or pipe water; and then your mistress, observing your meat of a different colour, will chide you when you are not in fault.

When you have plenty of fowls in the larder, leave the door open, in pity to the poor cat, if she be a good mouser.

If you find it necessary to go to market in a wet day, take out your mistress’s cloak, to save your clothes.

Get three or four chair-women to attend you constantly in the kitchen, whom you pay at small charges, only with the broken meat, a few coals, and all the cinders.

To keep troublesome servants out of the kitchen, always leave the winder sticking on the jack, to fall on their heads.

If a lump of soot falls into the soup, and you cannot conveniently get it out, stir it well, and it will give the soup a high French taste.

If you melt your butter to oil, be under no concern, but send it up; for oil is a genteeler sauce than butter.

Scrape the bottoms of your pots and kettles with a silver spoon, for fear of giving them a taste of the copper.

When you send up butter for sauce, be so thrifty as to let it be half water; which is also much wholesomer.

If your butter, when it is melted, tastes of brass, it is your master’s fault, who will not allow you a silver saucepan; besides, the less of it will go the farther, and new tinning is very chargeable: if you have a silver saucepan, and the butter smells of smoke, lay the fault upon the coals.

Never make use of a spoon in any thing that you can do with your hands, for fear of wearing out your master’s plate.

When you find that you cannot get dinner ready at the time appointed, put the clock back, and _then it may be ready to a minute_.

Let a red-hot coal now and then fall into the dripping-pan; that the smoke of the dripping may ascend, and give the roast meat a high taste.

You are to look upon the kitchen as your dressing room; but you are not to wash your hands, till you have gone to the Privy, and spitted your meat, trussed your fowl, picked your salad, nor indeed till after you have sent up your second course: for your hands will be ten times fouler with the many things you are forced to handle; but when your work is over, one washing will serve for all.

There is but one part of your dressing that I would admit while the victuals are boiling, roasting, or stewing; I mean, the combing your head, which loseth no time, because you stand over your cookery, and watch it with one hand, while you are using the comb with the other.

If any of the combings happen to be sent up with the victuals, you may safely lay the fault upon any of the footmen that hath vexed you: as those gentlemen are sometimes apt to be malicious, if you refuse them a sop in the pan, or a slice from the spit, much more when you discharge a ladle-full of hot porridge on their legs, or send them up to their masters with a dish-clout pinned at their tail.

In roasting and boiling, order the kitchen-maid to bring none but the large coals, and save the small ones for the fires above stairs: the first are properest for dressing meat; and when they are out, if you happen to miscarry in any dish, you may fairly lay the fault upon the want of coals; besides, the cinder-pickers will be sure to speak ill of your master’s house-keeping, where they do not find plenty of large cinders mixt with fresh large coals: thus you may dress your meat with credit, do an act of charity, raise the honour of your master, and sometimes get share of a pot of ale for your bounty to the cinder-woman.

As soon as you have sent up the second course, you have nothing to do (in a great family) until supper: _therefore_ scour your bands and face, put on your hood and scarf, and take your pleasure among your cronies, till nine or ten at night—but dine first.

Let there be always a strict friendship between you and the butler, for it is both your interests to be united: the butler often wants a comfortable tit-bit, and you much oftener a cool cup of good liquor. However, be cautious of him, for he is sometimes an inconstant lover; because he hath great advantage to allure the maids with a glass of sack, or white-wine and sugar.

When you roast a breast of veal, remember your sweet-heart the butler loves a sweet-bread; therefore set it aside till evening; you can say, the cat or the dog has run away with it, or you found it tainted or fly-blown; and besides, it looks as well at the table without it.

When you make the company wait long for dinner, and the meat be over-done, which is generally the case, you may lawfully lay the fault upon your lady, who hurried you to send up dinner, that you was forced to send it up too much boiled or roasted.

If your dinner miscarries in almost every dish, how could you help it? You were teazed by the footmen coming into the kitchen; and to prove it true, take occasion to be angry, and throw a ladle-full of broth on one or two of their liveries; besides _Friday_ and _Childermas-day_ are two cross days in the week, and it is impossible to have good luck on either of them; therefore on those two days you have a lawful excuse.

When you are in haste to take down your dishes, tip them in such a manner, that a dozen will fall together upon the dresser, just ready for your hand.

To save time and trouble, cut your apples and onions with the _same knife_; well-bred gentry love the taste of an onion in every thing they eat.

Lump three or four pounds of butter together with your hand; then dash it against the wall just over the dresser, so as to have it ready to pull by pieces as you have occasion for it.

If you have a silver sauce-pan for the kitchen use, let me advise you to batter it well, and keep it always black; this will be for your master’s honour; for it shews there has been constant good house-keeping: and make room for the sauce-pan by wriggling it on the coals, &c.

In the same manner, if you are allowed a large silver spoon for the kitchen, let half the bowl of it be worn out with continual scraping and stirring; and often say merrily, this spoon owes my master no service.

When you send up a mess of broth, water-gruel, or the like, to your master in a morning, do not forget, with your thumb and two fingers, to put salt on the side of the plate; for if you make use of a spoon, or the end of a knife, there may be danger that the salt would fall, and that would be a sign of ill luck. Only remember to lick your thumb and fingers clean, before you offer to touch the salt.

In this satire, much useful instruction is conveyed, and many faults exposed which could not be so well noticed in any other form. A valuable servant will, of course, not lay herself open to the Dean’s irony.

Above all things, a cook should avoid all cruelty, and no custom or usage should be an excuse for any practices, by which living and sensitive creatures are to be put to wanton and unnecessary torture.

————

N.B. In the previous article it has not been attempted to give a detailed system of cookery, which alone would have filled a volume; but the object has been so to condense as to give the substance of the art in a few general rules, applicable to all cases, and therefore more useful than detailed instructions, for, applied with good sense, they cannot fail to make a COMPLETE COOK.

THE KITCHEN-MAID, OR UNDER COOK.

Cleanliness must be considered as the _first and leading principle_ of the kitchen-maid, as well as of the head cook and all other persons in any way employed in the business of the kitchen.

This servant has, in many families, the hardest place in the house. It is her business, under the superintendance of the cook, to take nearly the whole management of roasting, boiling, and otherwise dressing all plain joints and dishes, and all the fish and vegetables.—She is also, if there be no _scullion_, to keep the _kitchen_, _larder_, _scullery_, all the _kitchen utensils_, and every thing belonging to it perfectly clean,—in the best possible condition, and always fit for use. On the due performance of this important part of her business mainly depends the credit and character, not of herself only, but of the cook also; it therefore behoves the cook to see it properly done.

The kitchen-maid must always rise betimes, light the kitchen fire, and set on water to be heated for all the purposes of the family, the first thing she does.—She next scours the dressers and shelves, and the kitchen tables, with soap and sand, and hot water; and cleans up the kitchen: she then clears out and cleans the housekeeper’s room, the hall and passages, the front door, and area steps, the larder, and the butler’s pantry; in doing which, the scullion (if there be one kept) takes the dirtiest and most laborious part. She then prepares the breakfasts in the housekeeper’s room, and the servants’-hall. These things, if she be active, she will have accomplished before the cook begins to require her attention and attendance in the larder, in the furtherance of the culinary preparations; to which, however, she must have an eye, even from her earliest rising, particularly to the soups and other things, that require a long time to prepare.

After breakfast, if not before, the cook will require her assistance in the larder, and afterwards for the remainder of the day she will be occupied in the kitchen, under the direction of the cook; first, in preparing for the servants’ dinner, the dinner in the nursery, or elsewhere, and the lunch in the parlour; next in helping to get ready the family dinner; then in washing up and clearing away every thing, and cleaning up the kitchen; and lastly, in setting out and preparing the supper, either hot or cold, for the servants.

As the kitchen-maid generally fills her situation with the view of becoming a cook, at a future day, it behoves her to read with attention the foregoing _Directions to the Cook_, which contain the rudiments of the art, and which, if she attentively study, and practically apply, will enable her to attain such a proficiency in her business, as will render her a valuable acquisition to her future employers. [Wages from 12 to 14 guineas per year.]

Having given a full and adequate sketch of the theory and leading principles of the culinary art, and exemplified them in the practical duties of the cook and kitchen-maid, we shall conclude the subject with a brief outline of the duties of their humble and laborious assistant,

THE SCULLION, OR SCULLERY-MAID.