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Sixth Day: Rose
Off flew the girls, and in a few minutes came back in triumph, lugging between them an oblong piece of polished marble, with a great corner broken off, to be sure, but large enough for their purpose. In the mean time, Mrs. King had told Rose to weigh out the materials for the following recipes.
No. 64-PUFF PASTE.
One lb. flour, three quarters of a lb. butter, one quarter of a lb. lard; salt, ice-water.
No. 65-PLAIN PIE-CRUST.
One lb. flour, a quarter of a lb. butter, a quarter of a lb. lard; or, one cup butter, one cup lard, one quart flour. "Every thing must be cold for paste," said Aunt Jane, again, "so I have had both the lard and butter hardened on the ice, as you see. As we only want two kinds of crust to-day, Rose may make one and Edith the other. Grace can be general helper for the present; by-and-bye we shall find something for her to do."
Each pastry-cook took her station at an end of the table, her materials being neatly ranged near her. A pitcher of ice-water stood between them. "The beginning is the same for both," said Aunt Jane. "Take the plate with the lard on in your left hand and cut off little bits of lard with a knife, throwing them into the flour as you go along. No matter if they are as - small as peas. Now enough salt to make the lard as salt as butter; about half a teaspoonful, I think." "It seems to me there's salt in everything," remarked Grace. "Very few things are made without it," answered her aunt; "nothing, I believe, that contains flour. (Now, girls, stir that lard thoroughly through the flour with a large knife.) We don't put it into preserves or canned fruits, and there are a few things, like blanc-mange, where it is not needed; but it must be added wherever there are eggs or flour, and is always present when any butter is used. Now, you pastry cooks, pour just enough water into the flour and lard to mix it into a loose paste that you can roll out with the rolling-pin. It must all be done with a knife, and as rapidly as possible. Never touch paste with your hands until you begin to roll it." While this direction was being carried out, Mrs. King gave the girls some of the various notions about making pie-crust. "Many people-indeed some of the very best cooksthink it quite as well to cut the butter as well as the lard, into the flour, and some people chop them in with a chopping-knife; but I like my old-fashioned way best. Now, Rose, as yours is the puff-paste, you may use the slab first and the others may look on. Sift a dust of flour over your marble pie-board." "Oughtn't some of the flour to have been kept out for that, Mrs. King?" asked Edith. "No, that is not necessary when the paste is so rich. A few ounces more than the pound does it no harm.
Now turn out the dough from the pan to the pie-board and make it into a compact pile in the middle, all with your knife. That is right; now flour the rolling-pin and roll it down to about half an inch of thickness."
Rose did so. "I ought to have told you first to divide the butter into four equal parts; that is, as nearly as you can make them SO. Now cut the butter into just such little scraps as you did the lard, and spread them evenly over the surface." "How nice and fresh that butter looks," said Grace. "It does, indeed," replied Aunt Jane. "And that reminds me of a queer surprise I had when I was in England. I had ordered bread and butter, with some other things, for luncheon, and when the waiter asked me if I would have fresh butter, I said, 'Yes, of course!' taking fresh in an American sense, which means newly made, and, therefore, especially sweet. When they brought it to table I found that it was made without salt!" "Wasn't it horrid, Aunt Jane?” "Oh, no, not at all. You were expected to use salt with it, just as you do on your meat and vegetables when they are not salt enough. Though I think, on the whole, I prefer our fashion. Now, Rose, you may touch your paste with your hands for the first time. Sift a dust of flour over the dough that you have spread with butter, then roll it into the shape of a fat bolster. Now roll it out again thin with the rolling-pin, not too thin, but rather more than half an inch thick, then spread on the next portion of butter, sift flour over it, and roll it again, and so on until the butter is all in. Always roll from yourself; don't bring back the pin backwards over the same ground." "Why not, Aunty?" "Your paste will not flake as finely; and you must remember that I am showing you the most elegant way of making it. When you don't care to have it look so handsome, or are making it for plain family pies, you can shorten the operation a good deal. And after making it a very few times, you will not need to weigh or measure at all, except for puff-paste, and many cooks don't do even that. You learn to feel just how much lard and butter are needed in proportion to the flour you have, and much of the trouble is saved." "What kind of pies are we going to make, Aunt Jane?" "I'll tell you in a minute. Now, Rose, as your last quarter of butter is in, you need not roll it out again just now. Set it in the ice-box till Edith has finished hers. She is to do exactly as you did, except that she need divide her quarter of a pound of butter into only two parts. Don't forget the little sprinkling of flour over it each time you have spread out the butter. Now, as to pies; I thought that, perhaps, to-day I would only let you make puddings." "Oh, Aunt Jane! then what is all this pie crust for?"and three pairs of wide-opened eyes were fixed on her at once. "Perhaps you don't know that a dish only lined with paste and not covered over the top, is a pudding in paste and not a pie at all, always excepting a New England pumpkin pie, of course, or a custard pie; one couldn't call those puddings. But lemon, and cream, and cocoanut, and all such as that, are really puddings." "How about cranberry, Aunt Jane? That's not covered." "That is properly a tart; so is a pie made of apples, peaches, or, in fact, any kind of fruit. But as the common custom seems to be against giving any of these things their strictly correct names, I suppose we must go on calling them pies, as the rest of the world do." "I thought 'tart' meant 'rather sour,' said Rose." "So it does, in one of its English meanings; but the name as applied to a pie comes from the French. Your paste looks very nice, Edith; now set it in the ice-box while we consider what will be the nicest material to fill our pie-puddings with." "Then is pumpkin really the only pie, Aunt Jane?" "Oh, no! all meat pies are properly so named. I don't know when they left off calling them 'pasties' in old England. Bring pasties of the doe,' you remember." "Yes," said Grace, "and when I used to hear Walter spouting Marmion, I thought it was spelt dough." "What a funny idea," said Aunt Jane. "It never occurred to me before. But now I will give you some recipes." "And are we to call all such pies, 'puddings,' after this, Aunt Jane?" "Oh, no," said Aunt Jane, laughing; "I only thought I would tell you what you might hear them called at fashionable tables, so that you would not exhibit any surprise. No matter what is set before you, at houses where you are visiting, and even if it is called by names that are strange to you, you must act just as if you had been used to it all your life."
Two working formulas embedded in a lesson: a rich rolled-in puff paste and a plain short crust. The proportions still hold, and the method is recognisably the classic rough puff, but a few of the quantities are given by weight in a way that needs translating.
- The hinge: keep everything coldThe fat must stay in visible pieces for the paste to flake, which is why Aunt Jane chills the butter and lard and forbids touching the dough by hand. If the kitchen is warm, chill the flour too and return the paste to the refrigerator for 20 minutes whenever the butter begins to smear rather than break.
- Weights in cupsOne pound of flour is about 3 1/2 cups; three quarters of a pound of butter is three sticks; a quarter pound is one stick. A quart of flour is 4 cups. Note that the alternative plain-crust formula (a cup each of butter and lard to a quart of flour) is a much richer mixture than the weighed version, roughly double the fat.
- Ice water is unmeasured on purposeExpect 1/2 to 3/4 cup for a pound of flour, added a few tablespoons at a time until the mass just coheres when pressed with the knife. Old flours drank differently from modern bleached all-purpose, so the amount genuinely cannot be fixed in advance.
- LardLeaf lard behaves as the book intends and is sold by butchers and online; the shelf-stable hydrogenated tubs are softer and less flaky. All-butter works if you raise the butter to match the total fat, but the crust will be crisper and less tender.
- The foldsRose is being taught four turns with a quarter of the butter each time, Edith two. Roll in one direction only, as instructed, and brush off excess flour between folds. Rest the paste in the refrigerator between the last two turns if the butter softens.
- SaltHalf a teaspoon per pound of flour assumes salted butter, as the anecdote about English butter makes clear. With unsalted butter, increase the salt in proportion to how much butter the formula carries -- rather more for the puff paste, only a little more for the plain crust.
- No oven temperature is givenThe book supplies none. Puff paste wants a hot oven, 425F, to burst the layers with steam; plain crust for a fruit or custard filling is usually started at 400-425F and finished at 350F.
- YieldA pound of flour makes enough plain crust for roughly three single 9-inch shells, or one and a half double-crust pies, depending how thin you roll. The puff paste, being much richer, yields somewhat more dough for the same weight of flour.
- The marble slabA cold, heavy work surface keeps the fat firm. A chilled sheet pan turned upside down, or a large marble or granite board from a kitchen shop, does the same job as the salvaged broken slab the girls drag in.
Six Little Cooks belongs to a nineteenth-century genre of instructional fiction in which children learn a household art through a series of lessons framed as a story, and its pastry chapter doubles as a lesson in table manners and vocabulary. The distinction Aunt Jane draws — that a dish with paste is properly a pudding, a fruit one a tart, and only meat and pumpkin genuinely pies — is offered as the usage of fashionable tables; her advice is not to correct anyone but to look unsurprised at whatever a hostess calls it. The "pasties of the doe" is from Scott's Marmion, standard recitation material for schoolchildren of the period, and the joke about spelling it "dough" only works because the poem was so widely memorised. The rolled-in method itself, quartering the butter and folding it through the dough in successive turns, is a rough-puff variant of the laminated puff paste long established in French practice, and the insistence on rolling away from the body rather than back and forth is still taught in professional kitchens.