Light-coloured and dry cheese is necessary for this somewhat peculiar soup, but the best cheese of all is, undoubtedly, Gruyere. Grate half a pound of cheese and spread a layer of this at the bottom of the soup-tureen. Cover this layer of cheese with some very thin slices of stale crumb of bread. Then put another layer of cheese and another layer of bread till all the cheese is used up. Next take about two tablespoonfuls of brown roux, melt this in a small saucepan, and add two tablespoonfuls of chopped onion. Let the onion cook in the melted roux over the fire, and then add a quart of water, and stir it all up till it boils, adding pepper and salt and a few drops of Parisian essence (burnt sugar) to give it a dark brown colour. Now pour the boiling soup over the contents of the soup-tureen, and let it stand a few minutes so that the bread has time to soak, and serve.
6 eggs, 3 oz. of powdered sugar, 1 oz. of butter, 1 dessertspoonful of potato flour, and 1 dessertspoonful of orangeflower water. Put the yolks of the eggs into a large basin, add the sugar, potato flour, and orange water, and beat all well with a wooden spoon for 10 minutes; beat the whites of the eggs to a stiff froth, and mix them lightly with the other ingredients. Meanwhile beat the butter in the omelet pan; when boiling pour the mixture into it, and fry the omelet over a gentle fire. When it begins to set round the sides shake it very gently from side to side, and turn the omelet neatly out on a buttered dish. Set it in the oven for about 10 minutes, and serve immediately with a little castor sugar sifted over it.
Cut up half a dozen onions and throw them for a few minutes into boiling water. This takes off the rankness. Drain off the onions, and chop them up and boil them till they are tender in some milk that has been seasoned with pepper and salt and a pinch of savoury herbs. Take a small quantity of celery, carrot and turnip, or carrot and turnip and a little bruised celery seed, and boil till they are tender in a very little water; rub through a wire sieve, and add the pulp to the soup. The soup can be thickened with white roux, ground rice, or one or two eggs beaten up. The soup must be added to the eggs gradually or they will curdle.
Good apple custard can only be made by using apples of a good flavour. When apples are in season, this dish can be made fairly cheaply, but it does not do to use those high-priced imported apples. Peel and take out the cores of about four pounds of apples, and let these simmer till they are quite tender in rather more than a pint of water. Add about one pound of sugar, or rather less if the apples are sweet; add a little powdered cinnamon, and mix all this with eight eggs, well beaten up; stir the mixture very carefully in a saucepan, or better still in a good-sized jug placed in a saucepan, till it begins to thicken. This custard is best served in glasses, and a little cinnamon sugar can be shaken over the top. Nutmeg may be used instead of cinnamon, and by many is thought superior.
Pick the beans, wash them, and steep them over night in boiling water, just covering them. Allow 2 or 3 oz. of beans for each person. In the morning, let them cook gently in the water they are steeped in with the addition of a little butter, until quite soft, which will be in about 2 hours. The beans should be cooked in only enough water to keep them from burning, therefore, when it boils away, add only just sufficient for absorption. The sauce is made thus: 1 pint of milk, 1 tablespoonful of Allinson fine wheatmeal, a handful of finely chopped parsley, the juice of 1/2 a lemon, pepper and salt to taste. Boil the milk and thicken it with the flour, which should first be smoothed with a little cold milk, then last of all add the lemon juice, the seasoning, and the parsley. This dish should be eaten with potatoes and green vegetables.
We will describe how to make a small quantity, which is always best when we make experiments. Take half a pound of the best Vienna flour, and mix with it, while dry, about a salt-spoonful of baking-powder. Now add about a tablespoonful of olive oil, and work the oil and flour together with the fingers exactly as you work a small piece of butter into the flour at the commencement of making puff paste. Next add sufficient water to make the whole into an elastic paste; roll it out and let it set between two tins containing ice, similar to the method used in making high-class pastry. We have mentioned a tablespoonful of oil, but if ice is used more oil may be added. We all know that oil will freeze at a much lower temperature than water, consequently the minute particles of oil become partially solid. Now take the paste, roll it out, and give it three turns; roll it out again, give it three more turns, and put it back in the ice; let it stand ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and repeat this process three times. Be careful to flour the pastry each time before it is turned. By this means we get the pastry in thin layers, with minute air bubbles between them, and this will cause the pastry to rise. If you are making a pie, roll out the pastry the last time, cover the pie, and put it in the oven immediately, while the pastry is cold. Do not let the pastry stand, unless it be in a very cold place. This pastry we have just described, made with oil, can also be utilised for puddings, in which latter case we would recommend the addition of a little more baking-powder, and to every pound of flour add two tablespoonfuls of very fine bread-crumbs. These must be dry, and rubbed through a fine sieve.
This is the most important of all the sauces with which we have to deal. The great mistake made by the vast majority of women cooks is that they will use milk. They thicken a pint of milk with a little butter and flour, and then call it melted butter, and, as a rule, send to table enough for twenty persons when only two or three are dining. As butter sauce will be served with the majority of vegetables, we would call the attention of vegetarians to the fact that, as a rule, ordinary cookery-books take for granted that vegetables will be served with the meat. When therefore vegetables are served separately, and are intended to be eaten with bread as a course by themselves, some alteration must be made in the method of serving them. Again, vegetarians should bear in mind that, except in cases where poverty necessitates rigid economy, a certain amount of butter may be considered almost a necessity, should the meal be wished to be both wholesome and nourishing. Francatelli, who was chef-de-cuisine to the Earl of Chesterfield, and was also chief cook to the Queen and chef at the Reform Club, and afterwards manager of the Freemasons' Tavern, in writing on this subject observes:--"Butter sauce, or, as it is more absurdly called, melted butter, is the foundation of the whole of the following sauces, and requires very great care in its preparation. Though simple, it is nevertheless a very useful and agreeable sauce when properly made. So far from this being usually the case, it is too generally left to assistants to prepare, as an insignificant matter; the result is therefore seldom satisfactory. When a large quantity of butter sauce is required, put four ounces of fresh butter into a middle-sized stew-pan, with some grated nutmeg and minionette pepper; to these add four ounces of sifted flour, knead the whole well together, and moisten with a pint of cold spring water; stir the sauce on the fire till it boils, and after having kept it gently boiling for twenty minutes (observing that it be not thicker than the consistency of common white sauce), proceed to mix in one pound and a half of sweet fresh butter, taking care to stir the sauce quickly the whole time of the operation. Should it appear to turn oily, add now and then a spoonful of cold spring water; finish with the juice of half a lemon, and salt to palate; then pass the sauce through a tammy into a large bain-marie for use." We have quoted the recipe of the late M. Francatelli in full, as we believe it is necessary to refer to some very great authority in order to knock out the prejudice from the minds of many who think that they not only can themselves cook, but teach others, but who are bound in the chains of prejudice and tradition which, too often, in the most simple recipes, lead them to follow in the footsteps of their grandmothers. Real butter sauce can be made as follows, on a small scale:--Take a claret-glass of water, and about a small teaspoonful of flour mixed with rather more than the same quantity of butter, and mix this in the water over the fire till it is of the consistency of very thin gruel. If it is thicker than this, add a little more water. Now take any quantity of butter, and gradually dissolve as much as you can in this thin gruel, adding say half an ounce at a time, till the sauce becomes a rich oily compound. After a time, if you add too much butter, the sauce will curdle and turn oily, as described by Francatelli. Of course, in everyday life it is not necessary to have the butter sauce so rich, still it is simply ridiculous to thicken a pint of milk, or a pint of water, with a little butter and flour, and then call it butter sauce or melted butter. Suppose we have a large white cabbage, like those met with in the West of England, and we are going to make a meal off it in conjunction with plenty of bread. Suppose the cabbage is sufficiently large for six persons, surely half a pound of butter is not an excessive quantity to use in making butter sauce for the purpose. Yet prejudice is such that if we use half a pound of butter for the butter sauce, housekeepers consider it extravagant. On the other hand, if the butter were placed on the table, and the six persons helped themselves, and ate bread and butter with the cabbage and finished the half-pound, it would not be considered extravagant. Of course, this is simply prejudice. A simple way of making melted butter is as follows:--Take half a pint of cold water, put it in a saucepan, and add sufficient white roux, or butter and flour mixed, till it is of the consistency of thin gruel. Now gradually dissolve in this, adding a little piece at a time, as much butter as you can afford; add a suspicion of nutmeg, a little pepper and salt, and a few drops of lemon-juice from a fresh lemon, if you have one in use.
2 bunches of leeks, 1-1/2 pints of milk, 1 oz. of butter, 1 lb. of potatoes, pepper and salt to taste, and the juice of a lemon. Cut off the coarse part of the green ends of the leeks, and cut the leeks lengthways, so as to be able to brush out the grit. Wash the leeks well, and see no grit remains, then cut them in short pieces. Peel, wash, and cut up the potatoes, then cook both vegetables with 2 pints of water. When the vegetables are quite tender, rub them through a sieve. Return the mixture to the saucepan, add the butter, milk, and seasoning, and boil the soup up again. Before serving add the lemon juice; serve with sippets of toast.
Take three or four small cauliflowers, or two large ones, soak them in salt and water, and boil them in some water till they are nearly tender. Take them out and break the cauliflower so that you get two or three dozen little pieces out of the heart of the cauliflower, somewhat resembling miniature bouquets. Put the rest of the cauliflower back into the water in which it was boiled, with the exception of the green part of the leaves, with an onion and some of the white part of a head of celery. Let all boil till the water has nearly boiled away. Now rub all this through a wire sieve, onions, celery, cauliflower, and all; add to it sufficient boiling milk to make the whole of the consistency of pea soup. Add a little butter, pepper, and salt; throw in those little pieces of cauliflower that had been reserved a minute or two before serving the soup. It is an improvement to boil two or three bay-leaves with the milk, and also a very great improvement indeed to add a little boiling cream. Fried or toasted bread should be served with the soup.
Large white-heart cherries form a very delicate dish when stewed. Very little water should be added, and the syrup should be kept as white as possible, and, if necessary, strained. Stew the cherries till they are tender, but do not let them break. Colour the syrup with a few drops of cochineal, and add a glass of maraschino.
