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Ninth Day: Mabel
But Mrs. King was already far on her way to the kitchen, where her sister sent the three girls to join her, while she herself descended to the parlor to receive her company. "Not an egg in the house!" said Aunt Jane, after a rapid survey of the pantry. "Mabel, take a dish and run in and asked Mrs. Lane to lend us half a dozen. Tell her it is a case of necessity. I'll look in the cellar and see what the butcher left for dinner. Tomatoes? Why, we're rich! Grace, make a mayonnaise dressing instanter. Amy, wipe the tomatoes and pick off the stems, and then cut them up just as we do at home." And Mrs.
King herself broke up a cake of chocolate into small pieces, and put it in a saucepan with water over the fire to melt. "Ah, Mabel, you have the eggs! Now break them carefully, whites and yolks separate, and beat them up. Amy, when you have done cutting up the tomatoes, get out a frying-pan and put it over the fire with a tablespoonful of butter, and stir this chocolate every minute or two, to keep it from burning." And in the mean time Mrs.
King was rapidly cutting fair, even slices of bread from one of Rhoda's loaves. "Now, girls, the first one that has time, toast this bread as nicely as you know how, and butter each piece on both sides as soon as it is done."
When she had cut enough bread for toast, Mrs. King took the yolks which Mabel had been beating, and added to them a small cupful of milk, some pepper and salt, and lastly the whites of the eggs. The butter in the fryingpan was now "hissing hot," so, pouring her omelette gently in, she set it over the fire. From time to time as it cooked, she slipped a broad-bladed knife under it to prevent its burning, and in seven or eight minutes, when it was done, she laid a dish bottom upward over the top of the frying-pan, which she turned upside down, leaving the omelette in the dish. In the meantime, Grace, having finished making the dressing and poured it over the tomatoes, prepared the chocolate under her aunt's directions, by adding more boiling water and milk to it; then scalded the teapot and made a cup of tea, and the lunch was ready to serve.
Mary had set the table nicely, and was now at liberty to wait on it. The omelette and buttered toast came first, with the chocolate; then the plates were changed and a tomato salad came on with plain bread and butter, and to finish off the meal there were canned peaches with a plate of crackers, and a cup of tea for those who wished it. "It isn't twice in a season that I am caught without cake in the house," said Mrs. Vernon, after her friends were gone; "but to-day happened to be one of the times." "Why can't we make some this afternoon, mamma?" inquired Grace, whose taste for cooking seemed to grow with exercise, instead of wearing off as her mother had feared it would,--"though I don't believe any one missed the cake at all, for they all seemed to enjoy their lunch very much." "I think your idea is a good one, Gracie," said Mrs. King, "and I have some nice recipes that we haven't tried yet; so if mamma has no objection, we'll do as much as we have time for. What are you going to have for dessert?" "I haven't the slightest idea," said Mrs. Vernon, "I suppose Rhoda will make a pudding of some sort." "Well, if we happen to think of anything nice, we'll make it, and Rhoda won't object to having some of her work done beforehand. Come, girls, on with your aprons again, that is, if you want to, and we'll see what we can do."
The little girls had become such enthusiasts in the matter of cooking, that this invitation was never given in vain, for Aunt Jane was a charming companion, and enlivened the hours passed in the kitchen with such pleasant conversation that they wanted no better amusement. "I wish we could make some blanc-mange," said Mabel. "I like that better than anything else." "It is too late to have that to-day," replied Aunt Jane, "because it wouldn't have time to get hard. We can make some for to-morrow's dessert, but even then we must use farina or corn-starch, because gelatine needs to soak for a long time. Most people prefer these because there is more body to them; but I will give you some recipes for both kinds."
The instruction here is buried in narrative, but a complete luncheon is described: a puffed omelette, buttered toast, drinking chocolate, tomato salad and canned peaches. The omelette is the part worth extracting.
- The hinge: hot pan, short cookThe butter must be "hissing hot" before the eggs go in, or a beaten-white omelette collapses and weeps. The recipe says only that the pan went "over the fire" and cooked seven or eight minutes; on a modern burner over medium heat it will likely take less, so judge by the omelette — underside set, top still glossy — rather than by the clock.
- Quantities, reconstructedSix eggs, whites and yolks beaten separately, with a "small cupful" of milk — call it 6 fl oz — plus pepper and salt. That serves four generously as the centre of a light lunch.
- Separated eggsThis is a souffléd or puffed omelette, not the French rolled kind. Beat the whites to soft peaks only and fold them into the seasoned yolks at the last moment; stiff peaks give a dry, bready result.
- Turning it outLaying a dish over the pan and inverting is the period method and still works, but the pan must be genuinely non-stick or a well-seasoned iron skillet, and the broad-bladed knife run underneath first. A modern cook can equally slide it out and fold.
- A cake of chocolateNineteenth-century chocolate was sold in solid cakes to be broken up and melted with water, often unsweetened. Use unsweetened baking chocolate — roughly 2 oz for four cups is a workable modern ratio — melted in a little water, then let down with boiling water and milk. The recipe gives no sugar at any point, so sweeten to taste.
- Mayonnaise dressingA period mayonnaise dressing would be a made-from-scratch emulsion of egg yolk, oil, vinegar and seasoning, here poured over the tomatoes as a dressing rather than spooned on as a thick sauce. Bottled mayonnaise thinned with a little vinegar or lemon juice approximates it; the raw yolk is worth noting if you make it properly and are serving anyone vulnerable.
- Scalding the teapotRinsing the pot with boiling water before brewing is not fussiness — a cold pot drops the water temperature enough to weaken the infusion. Still good practice.
- Blanc-mange, farina and corn-starchAunt Jane's remark reflects the period reality that gelatine came as sheets or shreds needing a long soak, while farina (a fine wheat semolina) and cornstarch set by cooking and chilling. Cornstarch blanc-mange still needs three to four hours in the refrigerator to firm.
This passage comes from Six Little Cooks; or, Aunt Jane's Cooking Class, a piece of instructional fiction for girls published in Chicago in the 1870s, in which recipes are delivered inside a story rather than as a list. The scene is a set piece of its genre: unexpected callers, an empty pantry, no cake in the house, and a competent woman assembling a creditable lunch from eggs borrowed next door, tomatoes from the cellar and a cake of chocolate. It is also a fair snapshot of a comfortable American table in the period: canned peaches were a mark of a well-stocked household, and drinking chocolate still competed with tea at the lighter meal. The domestic staffing is quietly visible too: Rhoda the cook has baked the bread and would otherwise be making the pudding, and the girls' cooking is framed as accomplishment rather than labour.