Alexis Soyer's Part 1: Breakfasts
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 made tea, and at eight o'clock we were seated. The breakfast, which was composed merely of bread and butter at discretion, fresh watercresses when plentiful, or sometimes boiled eggs; for variation, once a week, coffee; if in the winter, we had toast, which I never suffered the servant to prepare more than five minutes before we were seated, for, if kept longer, the dry toast becomes tough, and the buttered very greasy, and consequently unpalatable, as well as indigestible. Twenty minutes only were 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 halfpenny upon any one who should spill either tea or coffee over the cloth by carelessness. Such was always my plan when in business; and 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 frequent washings so ruinous; but the 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, washing, and you know we thought as much then of five pounds as we perhaps now do of twenty.
Respecting our present time and method of setting out our breakfast table, you are acquainted with it as well as myself j it would, therefore, be useless to trouble you with it, but if you consider it worthy of notice you can of course describe it yourself. Now to business : 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.
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 must 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 generally save 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 found that they were 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 should not be made until quite ready to serve; when done, place it in a toast-rack, or upon its edges, one piece resting against another. Any kind of toast that has been made half an hour is not worth eating.
3. TO TOAST MUFFINS, (see No. 6.)—Just pull open, half an inch deep, the sides of the muffins, exactly in the centre, then put your toasting-fork in the middle of the bottom, hold it a little distance from the fire until partly warmed through; rum and put it again to the fire until it becomes lightly toasted, turn it again to toast the other side: when done, pull it open, spread a thin layer of butter on each side, close them together; lay them upon a plate, and with a sharp knife, divide them across the middle, and serve very hot. If more than one muffin is required, cut them all separately, and pile them lightly one upon another on the plate. When well prepared, they are, in my opinion, a very great luxury, obtainable at a trifling expense.
4. TO TOAST CRUMPETS.—Crumpets stand lower in the general estimation of the public, probably from not being so distingué, and having the misfortune to be cheaper than their sister muffins; but, for all that, the poor ought never to be forgotten, and a crumpet toasted as follows is not to be despised. Choose your crumpets fresh if possible, though they are not bad after having been made three or four days; toast them by first warming both sides, like muffins, then give them a nice light brown colour on each side; lay them in a plate, and spread some rather soft butter lightly upon each side; cut in halves with a sharp knife, and serve; half an ounce of butter to each crumpet is quite sufficient. If you have several to serve, place them separately upon a large hot dish; some people place them one upon the other, which is a very bad plan, as it causes the under ones to eat like a piece of dough, and such food cannot be wholesome. Crumpets require to be toasted rather quickly.
5. MILK ROLLS FOR BREAKFAST.—Here, dearest, I must recommend you the following receipt, which I consider an economical luxury, especially when you have a few friends upon a visit at your house. I shall here describe it so plainly, that I am confident you cannot fail even upon the first trial. (Remark how simple) :—
Have a convenient sized basin, into which put half a pound of the best flour, making a hole in the middle; add half an ounce of German yeast, one ounce of butter, a teaspoonful of powdered sugar,and half ditto of salt, over which pour three large wineglassfuls of lukewarm milk; mix the whole, by degrees, with your hand, (using a little more flour,) until forming a stiffish paste; rub off the paste which adheres to your fingers, and form the whole into a ball, which leave at the bottom of the basin, covered over with a clean cloth, and set it half an hour to rise, or prove, in a warmish place, after which throw a little flour upon a dresser, cut the paste into pieces of the size of eggs, mould them of a round, oval, or any other shape you may fancy, egg over with a paste-brush, and place them upon a baking sheet, or upon the bottom of the oven if clean and not too hot; a few minutes will suffice to bake them, and they may be served either hot or cold.
6. TO MAKE MUFFINS.—Mix a quart of warm water in which you have dissolved three ounces of good German yeast, with sufficient flour to form a stiff batter, which let remain in a warm place four hours, then stir the mixture down, and break it into pieces, weighing a quarter of a pound each, which mould round with your hands, and put into wooden trays containing a round bed of flour for each; let them remain in a warm place two hours to prove; have your muffin-stove hot; have a round piece of iron, which place on the fire to get hot; set the muffins upon it, and when nicely risen, turn them gently over, baking them upon the stove until sufficiently set, when they are done; they will take about ten minutes baking if the stove is at the proper heat, which is known by a little flour thrown on it becoming brown. Muffins may also be made of brewer's yeast, but then they would require longer proving, and great care must be taken that the yeast is not bitter. The bitterness of the yeast can be removed by putting a hot charcoal or coal cinder in it.
7. TO MAKE CRUMPETS.—Mix a gill of brewer's yeast, free from bitter, with two quarts of water, just lukewarm, to which add sufficient flour to make a thinnish batter, and let it stand six hours in a warm place, then stir it well with a wooden spoon, and let it remain four hours longer; have the muffin-stove hot, upon which place a number of tin hoops, the size of crumpets, pour a small ladleful of the batter into each hoop, and when the top is covered with small bladders, turn them quickly over (hoops and all) with a large palate knife, and in about five minutes afterwards they will be sufficiently baked.
8. RUSKS.—Put three pounds of flour upon a dresser, make a hole in the middle, into which put two ounces of German yeast, dissolved in a pint of warm water, mix a little of the flour in, and leave it half an hour in a warm place to rise, then add two ounces of powdered sugar, and a quarter of a pound of butter, dissolved in half a pint of warm water; mix the whole into a dough, and let it remain in a warm place until well risen, when work it down with the hands, divide it in three pieces, each of which form into a long roll about two inches in thickness, place them upon a buttered baking-sheet, four inches apart, and put them in a warm place to prove, occasionally moistening the tops with milk; bake them in a moderate oven. When cold, cut them in slices the thickness of a penny-piece, which lay upon a clean baking-sheet, and put into a warm oven; when well browned upon one side, turn them over; put them again into the oven until the other side is browned; they are then done and ready for use.
9. TOPS AND BOTTOMS.—Make a dough exactly as described in the last, but using only half the butter; have a deep-edged baking-sheet well buttered, and when the dough is ready, turn it on to a dresser, well floured ;, divide into small pieces the size of walnuts, which mould into round balls, and place close together upon the baking-sheet; put them in a warm place to prove, and bake well in a moderate oven. When cold, divide and cut each one in halves (making a top and bottom) which brown in the oven as directed for rusks.
10. BUNS.—Put three pounds of flour in an earthen pan, make a hole in the middle, in which put two ounces of German yeast, dissolved in three parts of a pint of warm water, and stir in a little of the flour, forming a thinnish batter, let it remain in a warm place nearly an hour, until well fermented, then add half a pound of sugar, a few currants, and half a pound of butter, dissolved in nearly a pint of warm milk; mix the whole well together, making a soft but dry dough; let it remain in a warm place until it rises very light, then turn it out of the pan on to a board; work it well with the hands, shaking flour over lightly, then mould it into small round balls, double the size of walnuts, which place upon a buttered baking-sheet, four inches apart; moisten the tops with milk; put them in a warm place to prove, not, however, permitting them to crack, and bake them in a hot oven.
11. BRIOCHE ROLLS.—Put four pounds of flour upon a dresser, one pound of which put on one side, make a hole in the middle, into which pour nearly three parts of a pint of warm water, in which you have dissolved an ounce of German yeast; mix it into a stiff but delicate paste, which roll up into a ball: cut an incision across it, and lay it in a basin well floured, in a warm place, until becoming very light; then make a large hole in the centre of the three pounds of flour, into which put half an ounce of salt, two pounds of fresh butter, half a gill of water, and sixteen eggs; mix it into a softish flexible paste, which press out flat, lay the leaven upon it, folding it over and working with the hands until well amalgamated, flour a clean cloth, fold the paste in it and let remain all night In the morning mould them into small rolls; put them upon a baking-sheet, and bake in a moderate oven. Unless your breakfast party be very large, half the above quantity will be sufficient. These rolls being quite a luxury, I make them only upon very especial occasions.
12. HOW TO CHOOSE EGGS.—New-laid eggs should not be used until they have been laid about eight or ten hours, for that part which constitutes the white is not properly set before that time, and does not until then obtain that delicate flavour; that which is termed milk in eggs being, according to my opinion, very insipid, but that entirely depends upon fancy.
Nothing being more offensive than eggs in a state of decomposition, it is very important that every person should know how to detect them, (especially in the winter, when a much greater quantity are used in London;) if, by shaking them, they sound hollow, you may be certain they are not new-laid, and not fit to be boiled for breakfast, but, if broken, they may prove lit for any other culinary purpose, except for souffles, for which eggs must be very fresh. The safest way to try them is to hold them to the light, forming a focus with your hand; should the shell j be covered with small dark spots, they are very doubtful,: and should be broken separately in a cup, and each egg smelt previously to using them; if, however, in looking at them, you see no transparency in the shells, you may be sure they are rotten and only fit to be thrown away; the most precise way is, to look at them by the light of a candle; if quite fresh, there are no spots upon the shells, and they have a brilliant light yellow tint; in the spring of the year, it would be scarcely excusable to use any eggs that are not quite fresh.
13. EGGS FOR BREAKFAST, plain boiled.—Put about a pint of water to boil in any kind of small stewpan, (or saucepan,) over the fire; when boiling, put in two or three fresh eggs, gently, with a spoon, being particular not to crack or allow them to boil too fast, or the interior of the eggs would partly escape before they were set, giving them an unsightly appearance, and entirely preventing their cooking regularly; three minutes are sufficient to cook a full-sized egg, but if below the average size, two minutes and a half will suffice.
14. EGGS AU BEURRE, (a new method.)—Let the eggs boil six minutes instead of three, then take them out, dip them for two seconds in cold water, crack and peel off the shells, and lay them in a hot plate, (they will remain quite whole if properly done,) cut each egg in halves lengthwise, spread a little fresh butter and sprinkle a little salt over the interior, and eat them very hot.
Eggs done in this manner are delicate and digestible.
15. TO BOIL EGGS HARD.—Never boil eggs for salads, sauces, or any other purposes, more than ten minutes, and when done place them in a basin of cold water for five minutes to cool; take off their shells, and use them when required.
Nothing is more indigestible than an egg too hardboiled.
16. POACHED EGGS.—Put a pint of water in a stewpan, with four teaspoonfuls of vinegar and half a teaspoonful of salt, place it over the fire, and when boiling, break your eggs into it as near the surface of the water as possible, let them boil gently about three minutes; have rather a thin piece of toast, as described, (No. 1,) upon a dish, take the eggs out carefully with a small slice, lay the slice with the eggs upon a cloth for a second, to drain the water from them, set them carefully upon the toast, and serve very hot. If the eggs are fresh they will look most inviting; but the way of breaking and boiling them must be most carefully attended to, and care should be taken not to boil too many together; if the yolks separate from the white, it may be presumed that the egg is not fresh, but it may be eatable, for the same thing may happen through awkwardness in poaching.
Again, the toast upon which they are served may be buttered either with plain or maître-d'hôtel butter, or two small pats of butter may be melted, without boiling it, and poured over, or a little melted butter sauce, or the same with the addition of a little maitre-d'hotel butter poured over when just upon the point of boiling, or a little anchovy butter instead of the other; thus you may be able to indulge in nice little luxuries at a trifling expense.
17. TOAST AND EGGS.—Break three eggs into a small stewpan, add a saltspoonful of salt, a quarter of that' quantity of pepper, and two ounces of fresh butter, (the fresher the better,) set the stewpan over a moderate fire, and stir the eggs round with a wooden spoon, being careful to keep every particle in motion, until the whole has become a smooth and delicate thickish substance; have ready a convenient-sized crisp piece of toast, pour the eggs upon it, and serve immediately.
18. EGGS SUR LE PLAT.—Lightly butter a small oval dish, upon which break two, three, or more eggs without breaking the yolks, season lightly with a little white pepper and salt, put a few small pieces of butter here and there upon them, and then set the dish in the small oven, where let it remain until the whites become set, but by no means hard, and serve hot; if the oven is moderately hot, they will take about ten minutes; if no oven, put the dish before the fire, turning it round now and then until the eggs are set regular. This is a most excellent dish.
19. OMELETS may also be served for breakfast with great advantage, being very relishing, especially the omelettes aux fines herbes, au lard, and aux champignons, but as they are considered to belong to the dinner, they will be given in that series of receipts.
20. HERRING TOAST SANDWICH.—Choose a bloater for this purpose not too dry, which split in two, cutting it down the back; lay them upon a plate and pour the pint of boiling water over; let them soak five minutes, when place them upon a cloth to dry; then broil them very gradually upon a gridiron; when well done, which will be in about four or five minutes, have ready two thin slices of toast, made very crisp, butter them lightly, then take away all the bones from the herrings, lay the fleshy parts equally upon one piece of toast, and cover with the other; serve very hot.
21. TOAST AND EGGS WITH HERRING.—Prepare your toast and eggs as directed, (No 17,) but previous to pouring the eggs over, lay the flesh of a herring as directed in the last, and pour the eggs over that. Herring upon toast, with a layer of mashed potatoes over, is also very good.
Dried haddock may also be served the same, as also may sardines, but they being ready-cooked, are laid over cold without splitting them; they are very delicious: if wanted hot, set them a few minutes before the fire.
22. BLOATED HERRINGS.—They require to be freshly salted, for if dry they are quite rank and unpalatable; scrape them lightly with a knife, and wipe them well with a cloth; pass the point of a knife down the back from head to tail, making an incision about a quarter of an inch in depth; place them upon the gridiron over a sharp fire; they will take about six minutes to cook, of course turning them occasionally; when done, put them upon a hot dish, open the backs, and place half a small pat of butter in each; again close them: cooked this way they are delicious, especially if they are real bloaters. Another way is to cut them quite open and broil them flat upon the gridiron, and serve quite plain; this way they are done much more quickly. Or, if nice and fresh, oil half a sheet of white paper for every fish, in which fold them and broil fifteen minutes over a slow fire, turning them over three or four times, and serve in the papers. Should you have any that have become dry, soak them about twenty minutes in lukewarm water, and proceed as first directed. (Same process will do for red herrings.)
23. DRIED HADDOCK.—A very excellent thing for breakfast, but they never ought to be cooked whole, for one side being thinner than the other is of course dried up before the other is much more than half done, especially the larger ones; the better plan is to cut them in halves lengthwise, put them upon the gridiron over a moderate fire, keeping them frequently turned, and taking the thinnest half off first; the thickest will require about ten minutes to cook it thoroughly; when done, spread a pat of fresh butter over, and serve upon a very hot dish.
The small Scotch Finnon haddocks are by far the best, and may be cooked whole, being more equally divided, but the side where the bone is left may, perhaps, want another minute, but not sufficient to spoil the other.
Haddocks may also be skinned and broiled in oiled paper, but of course would take rather more time in cooking.
24. WHITINGS.—Of all the modes of preparing and dressing whitings for breakfast I cannot but admire and prize the system pursued by the Scotch, which renders them the most light, wholesome, and delicious food that could possibly be served for breakfast: their method in, to obtain the fish as fresh as possible, clean and skin them, take out the eyes, cover the fish over with salt, immediately after which take them out and shake off the superfluous salt, pass a string through the eye-holes, and hang them up to dry in a passage, or some place where there is a current of air; the next morning take them off, just roll them lightly in a little flour, broil them gently over a slow fire, and serve very hot, with a small piece of fresh butter rubbed over each, or serve quite dry, if preferable. Any whitings obtained here might be dressed in the same manner and eat very good, but nothing to equal the Scotch small whiting with the skin on; when cleansed, well wiped with a cloth, salted as before, and broiled, may also be served with a maitre-d'hotel butter spread over them.
25. SLIPS, or SMALL SOLES.—When cleaned, season them with a little pepper and salt, dip lightly into flour, and broil them slowly over a moderate fire about ten minutes, or according to the size; when done, place them upon a hot dish, pour two tablespoonfuls of cream over and serve immediately. They may of course be served dry, but pouring the cream over is a new and very good idea. Nothing but small white fish could be tolerated for breakfast.
26. SPRATS when nicely cooked are very commendable. Dip them lightly into flour, and place them upon a gridiron over a slow fire; when about half done, turn them; when done (which would be in about five minutes from the time you put them on,) serve dry in a very hot dish.
27. SARDINES.—There are but very few of these delicate little things used in England, yet there is nothing more calculated to give a zest to the appetite at breakfast or luncheon; I suppose it is their high price, which prevents their coming much in vogue; but when I have a few visitors my table is never without, and they are really very much approved of; the box of twenty-four cost from two to three shillings, depending on the size of the fish.
28. DRIED SPRATS.—Upon these I put but very little praise, being generally so very dry and salt; they may be eaten plain as they are, or broiled slightly.
29. SHEEP'S KIDNEYS.—Procure as many as you may require for your party, about one each is generally sufficient; be sure that they are fresh, which any person can ascertain by smelling, if not able to judge by their appearance; cut them open very evenly lengthwise, down to the root, but not to separate them; remove the skin, then have some small iron or wooden skewers, upon which thread the kidneys quite flat, by running the skewer twice through each kidney, that is, under the white part; season them rather highly with pepper and salt, and place them upon a gridiron, (the inside downwards,) over a sharp fire ; in three minutes turn them over, and in about six they will be sufficiently done; then take them off the skewers, place them in a very hot dish, and serve immediately. In opening them be careful to cut them in the centre, for should one half be thicker than the other, one would be dried before the other was sufficiently cooked.
30. KIDNEYS ON TOAST.—Prepare the kidneys precisely as in the last, but when done have ready a piece of hot toast, which butter lightly; lay the kidneys upon it; have ready a small piece of butter, to which you have added a little pepper, salt, and the juice of half a lemon; place a small piece in the centre of each kidney, and when melted serve.
31. KIDNEYS BREAD-CRUMBED, à la Maître d'Hôtel.—Prepare the kidneys as before, and when upon the skewer, have ready upon a plate an egg well beat up with a fork; season the kidneys with a little salt and pepper, dip them into the egg, then lightly cover them with bread-crumbs, put them upon the gridiron, which place over a moderate fire, broil them about ten minutes, turning them when half done, have ready a little maître d'hôtel butter, put about half an ounce in each kidney, and serve immediately upon a very hot dish; by the time it gets upon the table the butter will be melted, and they eat very relishing this way; they may also be served upon toast.
32. SAUTEED KIDNEYS.—Should you not have a fire fit for broiling, put an ounce of butter into a saute-pan (which of course must be very clean), cut the kidney in halves lengthwise, remove the skin, and when the butter is melted, lay them in, the flat side downwards, having previously well seasoned them with pepper and salt; set the pan on a moderate fire three minutes, then turn them; place them again upon the fire until done; when have ready a piece of dry toast, which place upon a hot dish, pour the kidneys with the butter and gravy over, and serve very hot. Care must be taken in sauteing that the butter does not become burnt.
Another way is to sprinkle about a teaspoonful of chopped eschalots, or onions, over them whilst being sauteed. This materially changes the flavour, and meets the approbation of many.
For the cooking of mutton chops, steaks, cutlets, broiled fowl, broiled bones, or remnants of poultry or game for breakfast, I must refer you to where they are given as Receipts for the Dinner-table.
33. BACON AND HAM for broiling.—Ham for broiling ought not to be too old or too dry, it would perhaps eat rank. Nothing requires more care than broiling. Either get a slice of ham weighing a quarter of a pound or two ounces, which lay on your gridiron; put it over ; the fire; it will take perhaps five minutes if the fire is | good, and more, of course, if slow; but in that short space i of time, turn it three or four times, and it is done. Proceed the same if you want to serve it with poached eggs (see No. 16), but be careful that the eggs be ready at the same time as the bacon or ham, or both would eat badly. If you happen to have a whole ham by you for that purpose only, as is often the case at a farmhouse, begin to cut the slices in a slanting direction, and the same thickness, and proceed to the end of the ham with the remainder. It will prove more profitable to broil with greens, peas, broad beans, &c, &c.
To saute, put a little butter or good fat in the pan; set it on the fire with the slice in it, saute very gently, turning very often, and serve on very thin toast.
34. HAM AND EGGS.—While your ham is doing, break two fresh eggs in the pan, season slightly with salt and pepper, set it before the fire till the eggs are delicately done, and slip them whole carefully into your dish, without breaking the yolk.
35. BACON.—The streaked part of a thick flank of bacon is to be preferred; cut nice slices, not above a quarter of an inch thick, take off the rind, put to broil on the gridiron over a clear fire; turn it three or four times in the space of five minutes: this will be all the cooking required. Serve it very hot. Though this is the best part, the whole of the bacon is good, especially if not rank, which can be easily detected by its yellowish colour; if too dry or salt, after it has been cut in slices, dip it into a little vinegar and water three or four times, and saute as usual; it will make it softer and less salt. Serve as usual. If any remain after a dinner of boiled bacon, it is also very good broiled or fried for next day's breakfast. Broiled and boiled bacon has been highly recommended to the dyspeptic.
36. SAUSAGES.—Sausages are very frequently esteemed for breakfast; the Cambridge are most in vogue; but the best I ever tasted were made a present to me by Sir George Chetwynd, Bart., made by a country pork butcher at Atherstone, a small town near Grendon Hall, the country seat of the above-mentioned baronet. They are more plainly made, and also better seasoned, and not subject to burst like the Cambridge ones, or, at all events, those made in London under that name. Oxford produces good sausages, not so choice in appearance, but, to my taste, better in flavour; the plainer they are, the better they dress for breakfast; by all means, never use them except you are confident that they are fresh. The skin must be transparent, that the meat should be seen through; they keep good two or three days in a cold place, in summer, nearly a week in winter (with care.)
37. SAUSAGES,—how to cook them.—Prick them with a pin all round about twenty times, put them on the gridiron over a gentle fire; turn three or four times, by doing which you will have them a very nice yellow colour; dish them, and serve them very hot.
38. SAUTÉED SAUSAGES.—If your fire smoke, it is preferable to saute them. Put some butter in the pan, with four sausages; after you have pricked them as before mentioned, sauté gently; a few minutes will do them; turn them often. In many instances, a thin slice of bread sautéd in the fat they have produced, is a great improvement: save the fat, as it is always useful in a kitchen. In case you are in a hurry to do them, throw them into hot water for one minute previously to their being broiled or sauteed; they will then be the sooner cooked, and even cat rather more relishing to a delicate stomach, the oil being extracted thereby from the skin; they may also be fried in the frying-pan.
39. BLACK PUDDINGS.—They are in France the regular standing dish for a winter's breakfast, and ought to be more in use in England; but I must observe that I mean the home-made ones, or those made à la Français, because I consider those that are usually sold in almost every shop are too heavy for breakfast; they may pass at dinner-time, though I must confess the flavour is not at all to my liking.
40. BLACK PUDDINGS, BROILED.—Make about six or eight incisions through the skin with a knife, slantfwise, on each side of the pudding; put it on the gridiron or about eight minutes, over rather a brisk fire; turn it four times in that space of time, and serve broiling hot.
I should recommend those who are fond of black puddings to partake of no other beverage than tea or coffee, as cocoa or chocolate would be a clog to the stomach. In France they partake of white wine for breakfast, which accounts for the great consumption of black pudding. Now really this is a very favourite dish with epicures, but I never recommend it to a delicate stomach.
COFFEE, which has now come so generally into use, originally came front Arabia, where it has been known from time immemorial, but was brought into use in England in the year 1653. As it is not generally known how it was introduced, I will give you the account of it from "Houghton's Collection," 1698. "It appears that to Mr. Daniel Edwards, an English merchant of Smyrna, brought with him to this country a Greek of the name of Pasqua, in 1652, who made his coffee; this Mr. Edwards married one Alderman Hodges' daughter, who lived in Walbrook, and set up Pasqua for a coffee-man in a shed in the churchyard in St. Michael, Cornhill, which is now a scrivener's brave-house, when, having great custom, the ale-sellers petitioned the Lord Mayor against him, as being no freeman. This made Alderman Hodges join his coachman, Bowman, who was free, as Pasqua's partner; but Pasqua, for some misdemeanor, was forced to run the country, and Bowman, by his trade and a contribution of 1000 sixpences, turned the shed to a house. Bowman's apprentices were, first, John Painter, then Humphrey, from whose wife I had this account." Having examined the renter churchwarden's book of St. Michael, Cornhill, I find that the house or shed Bowman built is now part of the Jamaica Coffee House; it was rebuilt by Bowman, after the fire, in 1667.
It is a very remarkable fact that but few persons in England know how to make good coffee, although so well supplied with the first quality of that delicious berry; but, by way of contrast, I must say that the middle classes of France are quite as ignorant of the method of making tea.
I remember, upon one occasion, whilst staying at Havre with Mr. B., where we were upon a visit at the house of one of his agents, who invited a few of his friends to meet us at a tea-party à I'Anglaise, as they used to call it. About an hour previous to tea, and previous to the arrival of the guests, I was walking upon the lawn before the house, when my attention was attracted by a cloud of steam issuing from the kitchen-window, smelling most powerfully of tea; my curiosity led me to the kitchen, where I found the cook busily engaged making cocoa and most delicious coffee, but preparing the tea in a ridiculous fashion, the leaves of which were in an awful state of agitation, attempting as it were to escape from an earthen pot at the side of the fire, in which the delicious soup we had for dinner was made the few hours previously. (See Pot-au-Feu.)
"My dear girl," said I (in French), "what process do you call that of making tea? it never ought to be boiled."
"I beg your pardon, Madame," says she, "master and mistress like it well done, and it will be another short half hour before it is properly cooked (ce sera alors copieux)."
"You are decidedly wrong," said I, "and I shall be most happy to show you the way we make it in England."
"Yes, I know what you mean, Madame," replied she; "I used to make it that way before, but no one liked it, that is, to boil it one hour in a copper pan over A charcoal fire." Upon which I retired, making a most comical grimace, to refrain from laughing at her still more ridiculous fashion.
You must, however, observe, that this occurred nearly twelve years ago, and I have no doubt but a reform has taken place since then by the continual traffic of the English through that part of the country. I must say with respect to ourselves, we do not make quite such a blunder respecting coffee, but still our middle-classes very seldom enjoy the aroma of that delicious beverage, which should be made as follows:
Choose the coffee of a very nice brown colour, but not black (which would denote that it was burnt, and impart a bitter flavour) ; grind it at home, if possible, as you may then depend upon the quality; if ground in any quantity, keep it in a jar hermetically sealed. To make a pint, put two ounces into a stewpan, or small iron or tin saucepan, which set dry upon a moderate fire, stirring the coffee round with a wooden spoon continually until it is quite hot through, but not in the least burnt; should the fire be very fierce, warm it by degrees, taking it off every now and then until hot (which would not be more than two minutes), then pour over a pint of boiling water, cover close, and let it stand by the side of the fire (but not to boil) for five minutes, strain it through a cloth or a piece of thick gauze, rinse out the stewpan, pour the coffee (which will be quite clear) back into it, place it upon the fire, and, when nearly boiling, serve with hot milk if for breakfast, but with a drop of cold milk or cream if for dinner.
To prove the simplicity of this mode of making coffee, I shall here give a repetition of the receipt as it actually is:—
41. TO MAKE COFFEE.—Put two ounces of ground coffee into a stewpan, which set upon the fire, stirring the powder round with a spoon until quite hot, then pour over a pint of boiling water; cover over closely for five minutes, pass it through a cloth, warm again, and serve.*
The foregoing proportions would make coffee good enough for any person, but more or less coffee could be used if required; the cloth through which it is passed should be immediately washed and put by for the next occasion. A hundred cups of coffee could be made as here directed in half an hour, by procuring a pan sufficiently large, and using the proper proportions of coffee and water, passing it afterwards through a large cloth or jelly-bag.
42. COFFEE, FRENCH FASHION.—To a pint of coffee, made as before directed, add a pint of boiling milk; warm both together until nearly boiling, and serve. The French never use it any other way for breakfast.
43. WHITE COFFEE (a new style.)—Put two ounces of unground coffee, slightly roasted, into a clean stewpan, which set upon a moderate fire, slowly warming the coffee through, shaking the stewpan round every half minute; when very hot, which you will perceive by the smoke arising from it, pour over half a pint of boiling water; cover the stewpan well, and let it infuse by the side of the fire for fifteen minutes; then add half a pint of boiling hot milk, pass the coffee through a small fine sieve into the coffee-pot or jug, and serve with white sugar-candy or crystallized sugar. It is, as you will perceive, a great novelty, and an agreeable change. But if, by neglect, you let the coffee get black, or the least burnt, do not attempt to make use of it: it should only be sufficiently charred to break easily in a mortar if required.
44. COFFEE MADE WITH A FILTER.—To make a quart: first put a pint of boiling water through the filter to warm it, which pour away, then put a quarter of a pound of ground coffee upon the filter, and upon which put the presser and the grating lightly, pour over half a pint of boiling water, let it stand three or four minutes, then pour over a pint and a half more boiling water; when well passed through, pour it into a clean stewpan, which set at the corner of the fire until a light scum arises, but not boiling; pour it again through the filter, and when well drained through, pour into the coffee-pot, and serve with hot milk, or a little cream, separately.
45. ANOTHER WAY, (more economical.)—Proceed as in the last, but drain the coffee through once only, and serve; after which, pour another quart of boiling water over the coffee-grounds, which, when drained through, reserve, and boil up for the next coffee you make, using it instead of water; use an ounce less coffee.
tea is, without doubt, one of the most useful herbs ever introduced into this country: it was in the year of the fire of London, 1666,* and has displaced an unwholesome and heavy drink (ale) which used to be partaken of previously, and has created habits of sobriety. It is a plant indigenous to China, Japan, and Siam, and consists of many varieties, the proper mixing of which constitutes the great art of a tea-dealer. It is exceedingly useful in many cases of sickness, and particularly after having partaken of any liquor to excess, or after extraordinary fatigue. When new, it is a narcotic; but when old it has a different effect;* in its native country it is never partaken of until a year old, and not then, unless exceedingly desiccated. I cannot recommend you any one in particular, as that depends on taste; but this I advise, that when you have a kind to your liking, keep to it.
And now, my dear friend, without wishing in the least to offend you, or attempting to aggravate your good nature, I must beg to contradict your assertion, made at the commencement of our undertaking, where you say, respecting tea, of course I know how to make it; you made it whilst staying at our house occasionally, and Mr. B. found there was a great difference between it and mine. But to tell you the truth respecting tea, I have a little secret of my own, being a discovery which I made a short time ago by accident. Whilst in the act of making tea, I had just put the dry tea in the pot, when I heard a fearful scream up-stairs in the drawing-room; rushing there, I found my little girl had had a severe fall in reaching something from the chimney-piece, the stool upon which she stood having upset: twenty minutes at least elapsed before I returned to my tea (which, being alone, I was in no particular hurry for), when I found that the servant, thinking there was water in the pot, and fearing the tea would be spoiled, put it into the oven, which was rather hot; when she brought it to me I was rather annoyed, when all at once it struck me that the leaves being hot through, the tea would not require so long to draw; I then filled the tea-pot with boiling water, and in a minute afterwards had a most delicious cup of tea, since which I have adopted the system upon all occasions, and am now having made a small spirit-lamp to warm the pot and leaves, as the oven is not always hot; it may, however, be made hot in front of the fire, but must not be placed too close. I gave the receipt to one of our neighbours, who actually laughed at the idea, but never tried it, saying, "We cannot teach anything tu our grandmothers, and that what did for them would do for us." Now, what could you say to such people? why, nothing; but let them alone, as I shall do for the future. But you, my dear, I know, have better sense; proceed as I have directed, and you will find it a great improvement. Put your tea in the pot ten minutes before being ready for it, warming both tea and pot, before the fire or in a slow oven; fill with boiling water, and leave it from three to five minutes to draw, when it is quite ready.
cacao was first known in Europe after the discovery of America, and it retains its Indian name; of course, it was first used in Spain, and did not come into use in England until much later; and we find that there was imported into England, in the year 1694, about 13,000tbs weight of it; in 1848, 410,00016s. It is a long fruit, about five to eight inches, and three or four thick, which contains about thirty nuts: the tree grows to only a few feet in height.
During the time of the famine in Ireland, I turned my attention to this valuable fruit, whose nutritive qualities are so great; and from conversation and correspondence with our principal importers and manufacturers of chocolate, I found that it cannot be had in sufficient quantities to allow of a great consumption, as it is a production which, like all others, is subject to vicissitudes, which, at times, considerably raise the price of the nut; but I see no reason why it should not be made an article of greater cultivation, so as to provide for the great demand which would arise if it were more generally introduced. In the course of my experiments, I have found that the shell is almost as nutritious as the kernel, with less oily particles in it, which, to many, are unpleasant; and I am confident that large quantities might be imported into this country at a very cheap rate, which are, at the present moment, thrown away in South America and the West India Islands, just in the same way as the tobacco-stalk was, but which is now imported into this country for the purpose of making snuff. If imported in greater quantities, it would be a most excellent article of diet in our workhouses and charitable institutions.
46. CHOCOLATE.—Scrape two ounces of the cake into a stewpan or saucepan, with a gill of water, place upon the fire, keeping it stirred with a wooden spoon until rather thick, when work it quickly with a spoon, stirring in half a pint of boiling milk by degrees; serve very hot, with sugar separate.
47. CHOCOLATE MADE IN THE ITALIAN METHOD.—Procure a regular chocolate-pot with a muller, the handle of which comes through the lid; one might be procured at any brazier's; put in two ounces of chocolate (scraped), over which by degrees pour a pint of boiling milk, put on the lid with the muller inside, which keep well moving, setting the pot upon the fire, and when very hot and frothy, serve.
48. COCOA.—Put a teaspoonful and a half of canistered cocoa into a cup, which fill by degrees with boiling milk, stir it until dissolved, when it is ready to serve; sugar separately.
Oatlands Cottage, Jan. 20, 1849.
Dear Hortense,—I have inclosed the whole of the receipts which you have sent me for the Breakfasts, properly classified, having omitted the cold meats (as you desired me) from this series, thinking, as you do, they are more suited for the luncheon. To save useless repetition, I have placed the receipts in numbers, by which references can be easily made, and any dish appearing in the dinner or luncheon series, but available for breakfast, can be directly found.One thing I remember when at your house was, that when the remains of a joint were rather large, you used to put it upon a side-table, and let any one help themselves from it there; your idea being, I believe, that very few persons liked to have a large dish of meat before their eyes almost immediately after rising from their beds, or at the first meal of the morning. Respecting the way your table was laid out, to the best of my recollection, it was as follows:—First, the large table-cloth, over which was laid a small napkin before each person, with cups and saucers for tea or coffee, at choice, small plates for rolls, and a size larger for meat, sausages, eggs, &c, a small knife and fork for each; the butter in a pretty freezing butter-glass, just covered with clear spring-water, and garnished with a few sprigs of parsley or water-cresses; the cream in a small china cream-jug, and a larger jug containing hot milk for coffee; orange marmalade in its original pot, honeycomb, water-cresses, and once a few nice young radishes, which were excellent, although a little out of season; one day also dry toast was served, another day buttered, the next muffins, then crumpets, white and brown bread, and small rolls, thus making a continual change, but all so small and inviting. I shall always, when I have company, as you had then, arrange everything in the same manner, especially now that I have your receipts written down. But when you are alone, you tell me you never make any such display, which of course would be ridiculous; still even then you vary, by having either tea, coffee, or chocolate, which change I like as well as you. I seldom partake of meat, but Mr. L—— generally likes a little broiled bacon, or boiled eggs, things in themselves very simple and pleasant to have upon the table. Yours, in haste,
Eloise.
LETTER No. IV.
My dear Friend,—I feel perfectly satisfied with the manner in which you have classified my receipts respecting the breakfasts, and I must say I felt very much interested in looking over them; I am confident they would prove interesting and instructive to any young housekeeper; I hope, therefore, you will preserve the originals, as I do not keep any copies, fearing they would confuse me by making reference to them; so that, if at any future time I should make a repetition in other series, you would be able to correct me, for I am as willing as yourself that we should complete our Journal by going through every series comprising meals of the day.
The next meal, then, to breakfast, in the ordinary course of events, is the luncheon. Although it is a meal we never touch ourselves, I am aware many small families make it a regular one, so our little journal would not be complete without some few remarks, which I intend making as short and concise as possible. When we were in business, our luncheons were comprised of any cold meats which were cooked for previous dinners; if a joint of cold roast or boiled meat, it requires to be nicely trimmed before making its appearance at table, but reserving the trimmings for hash, if of roast meat, or bubble and squeak, if salt beef, which is an excellent method of disposing of the remainder of a joint to advantage; if the joint happened to be cold veal, I used to send for a plate of ham to serve with it, unless there was a piece of bacon also left; if mutton, I used to dish up the leg with a pretty little paper frill upon the knuckle, also trimming the joint lightly, for you must be aware that, after four or five have dined from a leg of mutton, its appearance becomes quite spoiled, and looks blackish when cold. Pork I also serve the same; when parsley was cheap, I always laid a few branches round it, which used, as my visitors said, to make the meat look very refreshing and inviting. Our only addition was sometimes the remainder of game, which at that time used frequently to be presented to us—pheasants, partridges, or grouse; as it would then have been very extravagant to have purchased them, especially when they were so expensive. As an accompaniment to the meat, I always kept two different sorts of mixed pickles, good bread, butter, cheese, and a glass of excellent table ale; or, if our guest was some bosom friend or good customer, a bottle of sherry (not decantered), never any port, thinking that more fit for the dinner-table. Such was my plan in the first five years after my marriage: everything upon our table was of the first quality, and every one used to admire the neatness with which the table was laid out.
My method now, when luncheon is required (as we do not dine until half-past five o'clock, Mr. B. being engaged until four in the city), I have the cloth laid at twelve, and lunch at half-past; and that time being just after the nursery dinner, we generally have some sort of pudding or tart, made at the same time with theirs. For cold meat, I always serve that up which has been left from a previous dinner, if any, or any remains of poultry, game, ham, or tongue. When, however, we have six or eight friends from the country, at Christmas, I feel proud to show them my style of doing things well and economically, for they are very intelligent people, and can appreciate good living, though at home they really live too plain for their incomes; but they say, "We do not understand how it is that you make a nice little dish almost out of nothing." For should I have the remnants of any poultry or game not very inviting to the sight, I generally cut it up and show my cook how to hash it in a variety of ways; and I always remark, that they never partake of any cold meat whilst any of the hash remains. For the methods of making various hashes of fowl, game, hare, rabbit, beef mutton, as also curries, minced veal and poached eggs, cold pies of game, poultry, mutton, beefsteak, or pigeon, as also plain mutton cutlets, steaks, and broiled bones, the whole of which may be served for luncheon, I must Refer you to the series of Receipts belonging to the Dinner; any of these articles are placed in order upon the table, with the pickle-stand, two different cruet-sauces, orange marmalade, potatoes, butter, cheese, sherry and port wines. This style of luncheon, will no doubt surprise you, but I can assure you it scarcely increases my expenditure, having the same number to provide for daily, so that the luncheon is generally made up from the remains of dinner, and the remains of luncheon will dine our three servants at half-past one. In the summer, I introduce a few dishes of fruit, and less meat; and when there are several ladies, I often introduce some English-made wine, which once I used to make myself, but which I can now buy cheaper.
Notes:
[*] This entirely new system of making coffee has never yet been introduced to the public, and was found out by the author of this work through the following circumstance: Whilst travelling by night in a railway train, and arriving in due time at the station, where positively no less than five minutes are allowed to restore exhausted nature after a long and tedious journey, and then obliged to use a certain portion of manual strength in pushing through the crowd to get at what is called the refreshment room, and after waiting for nearly two minutes for my turn to be served with some of the boiling liquid which they called coffee, found it as bad as any human being could possibly make it (they having probably waited patiently by the side of a winter's fire until the last train made its appearance); it tasted anything but palatable; but having a long journey before me, and requiring something to eat and drink, I was obliged to put up with it; but before I could even partake of half, or finish masticating some stale toast or over-buttered muffin, the unsociable bell violently rang to acquaint the passengers that their appetites were perfectly satisfied, though that incredulous organ would not let us believe it; and every one being perfectly aware that railway trains, like time, wait for no one, the hurry of which event, fortunately, made me escape the swallowing the thick part which was deposited at the bottom of the cup. Rushing out of the refreshment room, I jumped into the wrong carriage, the fidgety train having changed its place, and the time being too short to rectify the mistake, I was obliged to make fresh acquaintance with my new compagnons de voyage, who happened to be as much dissatisfied with the steaming-hot refreshment as myself who had patronised the steaming Mocha. I was at last much pleased to find a wise man among my new travelling friends, who said, "I never travel at night without being provided with a spirited companion;" and pulling out of his carpet-bag a small bottle and gutta-percha goblet of new invention, we partook of a drop of the best eau de vie I had ever tasted, which produced on me the pleasant sensation of being relieved of a very annoying pain. Grateful for his kindness, and always desirous to improve the domestic comfort, I told him, in making myself known, that, as soon as I arrived at the Reform Club, I would try several experiments to simplify the present method of making coffee; and should I be successful in my researches, I would forward him the receipt. On my arrival in London, I found my first travelling friends, who, more unfortunate than myself, got in their proper place, and, consequently, did not meet with the "spirited" friend I did, vowing they would never take any more coffee at night, especially in a railway train. Having forwarded the receipt to my fellow-traveller, he, after having tried it, wrote me the following note:
"My Dear Sir,—I have made an experiment of your new receipt for coffee, •which you have kindly forwarded to me, and beg to acquaint you that I never recollect having tasted better.—Yours, &c. "W. C."
I do strongly advise my readers to give it a trial, and recommend all providers of refreshment at railway stations not to make the coffee boiling hot^ but to keep the cafetière in a bain-marie, which would prevent all the above inconvenience, both as regards quality and heat.
[*] In that year there were imported into England, at the present day, we learn from the Overland and Friend of China, No. 52, December 29, 1849, that there were exported from Canton to the United Kingdom, 39,362,300 lbs.; of this, 36,206,700lbs. was black, and only 3,115,600lbs. green; of the black, there were 31,677,300lbs. of congou; showing the immense increase in the consumption of a plant which has done so much towards the civilization of mankind, and drawing forth the inventive genius which he possesses.
[*] Some few years since, having a great deal of writing to do within a certain time, and which could not be done without employing the night as well as the day, I partook of weak green tea, with a little brandy, sugar, and lemon-juice, as a beverage, and, with light food, I was enabled to do it with but eighteen hours' sleep, from eight o'clock on Monday morning to five o'clock on the following Sunday morning.