The Modern Housewife or, Ménagère. Soyer Alexis
MY DEAR HORTENSE,—Upon my arrival at home, I am happy to say that I found all quite well, and delighted to see me, after (to them) so long an absence as a fortnight, which my husband was gallant enough to say appeared months; but to myself the time appeared to pass very swiftly; for, indeed, every day I felt so much more interested in watching closely how well you managed your household affairs, that, believe me, you have quite spoiled me, especially with your recherché style of cookery, which even now I cannot make out how you could do it at such moderate expense: and, apropos of cooking, Mr. L., expecting me home to dinner, had, I have no doubt, a long interview and discussion with Cook respecting the bill of fare. “Well, sir,” I will suppose she said, “what can be better than a fine fat goose, stuffed with sage and ingyons; we have a very fine ’un hanging in the larder.” (You must observe, dear, that my cook is plain in every way.) “A very excellent notion that, Cook; nothing can be better than a good goose;” was no doubt, my husband’s answer, who, although very fond of a good dinner, cannot endure the trouble of ordering it.
Well, then, here I am in my little drawing-room (the window slightly open), enjoying the fresh country air, which seems to have been amalgamated with a strong aroma from the aforesaid goose, especially the sage and onions; and I am almost certain that the inseparable applesauce is burnt or upset on the stove, from the brown smoke now ascending from the grating over the kitchen window. This style is now to me quite unbearable, and I mean to have quite a reform in my little establishment, and first of all to bring up my daughter in the way recommended by Mr. B. to his friend, to make her more domesticated than I am myself, as I begin to perceive that a knowledge of household affairs is as much required as intellectual education; and, for my part, I have come to the determination of adopting your system of management as closely as possible; but first, you must know, that, without your scientific advice, it will be totally impossible; therefore I beg to propose (if you can afford the time) that you will, by writing, give me the description how you lay out your breakfast-table, with the addition of a few receipts for the making of rolls and the other breakfast bread, which I so much enjoyed while with you; even how to make toast, and more especially how you make coffee, chocolate, cocoa (tea, of course, I know). And should this meet your approbation, I mean to make a little journal, which may some day or other be useful to our families and friends.
Until I hear from you I shall be waiting with anxiety for your decision upon this important and domestic subject.
Yours very sincerely,
ELOISE.
From Mrs. B——, in reply.
Bifrons Villa; Jan. 3d, 1849.
MY DEAR ELOISE,—In answer to yours, I agree, with the greatest pleasure, to contribute towards your domesticated idea, which, I must say, is very original, and may, as you observe, prove useful; but why should we confine our culinary journal to breakfast only? why not go through the different meals of the day? that is, after breakfast, the luncheon; then the nursery-dinner at One; and here it strikes me that, in that series, we might introduce some receipts, to be called Comforts for Invalids; even our servants’ dinners and teas; then the early dinner at two or three for people in business, the parlor-dinner at six, the coffee after dinner, and even suppers for a small ball or evening party; but all on a moderate scale, leaving the aristocratic style entirely to its proper sphere.
To show my approbation of your idea, I enclose herewith the first receipt, How to make Toast.
BREAKFASTS.
WHEN we first commenced housekeeping, we were six in family, five of whom breakfasted together, the three young men in the shop, Mr. B——, and myself. The cloth was laid by the servant girl at half-past seven precisely; at ten minutes to eight I used to make tea, and at eight o’clock we were seated at breakfast, which was composed merely of bread and butter at discretion, fresh water cresses when plentiful, or sometimes boiled eggs, and for variation, once a week, coffee, and if in the winter, we had toast, which I never suffered any servant to prepare more than five minutes before we were seated, for, if standing any time, the dry toast becomes tough, and the buttered very greasy, and consequently unpalatable, as well as indigestible. Twenty minutes only was the time allowed for breakfast, after which the table was cleared, the cloth carefully folded and put by for the next morning, for we kept a separate one for dinner, and imposed the fine of a half-penny upon any one who should spill their tea or coffee over the cloth by carelessness. Such was always my plan when in business; for you must know as well as myself, it is not only the expense of the washing, but the continual wear and tear of the linen, which make such frequent washings so ruinous, but my cloth used always to look clean, and I am confident that not less than five pounds a-year were saved on that very trifling matter, and you know we thought as much then of five pounds as we perhaps now do of twenty.
Before partaking of a breakfast, you must provide the materials (which I always select of the best quality), and require to know how to prepare them. I shall, therefore, give you a series of every description of articles which may properly be partaken of at the breakfast-table.
FIRST SERIES OF RECEIPTS.
PERHAPS some housekeepers may laugh at the presumption of M. Soyer in attempting to give a formal receipt for so trifling a matter as making a piece of toast. But, in Cookery, there are no trifles. Every preparation of food, however simple, requires thought, care, and experience. Among the unpleasantnesses of our breakfast-tables, there are none more common than poor toast.—Ed.
1. Toast.—Procure a nice square loaf of bread that has been baked one or two days previously (for new bread cannot be cut, and would eat very heavy), then with a sharp knife cut off the bottom crust very evenly, and then as many slices as you require, about a quarter of an inch in thickness (I generally use a carving-knife for cutting bread for toast, being longer in the blade, it is more handy, and less liable to waste the bread); contrive to have rather a clear fire; place a slice of the bread upon a toasting-fork, about an inch from one of the sides, hold it a minute before the fire, then turn it, hold it before the fire another minute, by which time the bread will be thoroughly hot, then begin to move it gradually to and fro until the whole surface has assumed a yellowish-brown color, when again turn it, toasting the other side in the same manner; then lay it upon a hot plate, have some fresh or salt butter (which must not be too hard, as pressing it upon the toast would make it heavy), spread a piece, rather less than an ounce, over, and cut into four or six pieces; should you require six such slices for a numerous family, about a quarter of a pound of butter would suffice for the whole; but cut each slice into pieces as soon as buttered, and pile them lightly upon the plate or dish you intend to serve it. This way you will find a great improvement upon the old system, as often in cutting through four or five slices with a bad knife, you squeeze all the butter out of the upper one, and discover the under one, at the peril of its life, swimming in an ocean of butter at the bottom of the dish.
N.B. The warming of the bread gradually through, on both sides, is a very great improvement upon the quality of the toast; it may give a trifle more trouble, but still it is quicker done, and much lighter.
All kinds of toast require to be done the same way, but if to be served under a bird, eggs, or kidneys, it requires to be toasted drier.
Being in every way an economist, I have generally saved the remnants of the loaf that have become too dry to be eaten as bread, and by just dipping them in warm water, toasting them gradually, and buttering them, I have generally found that they have been eaten in preference, but their being stale is a secret of my own, which, if divulged, would prevent their ever being eaten after.
2. Dry Toast.—Ought not to be toasted until quite ready to serve; when done, place it in a toast-rack, or standing upon its edges, one piece resting against another; any kind of toast that has been made half an hour is not worth eating.