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Meringues
One pound granulated sugar, whites of nine eggs. Whip eggs until dish can be inverted without their falling off, and then simply add the sugar, incorporating it thoroughly, but stirring as little as possible. Prepare boards three-fourths of an inch thick, to fit oven, and cover them with strips of heavy brown paper about two and a half inches wide; on these drop the mixture from the end of a dessert-spoon (or use the meringue-bag described in recipe for lady's fingers), giving the meringue the form of an egg, and dropping them about two inches apart on the paper, and bake till a light brown. Take up each strip of paper by the two ends, turn it gently on the table, and with a small spoon take out the soft part of each meringue, strew over them some sifted sugar, and return to oven bottom side up to brown. These shells may be kept for weeks. When wanted for table, fill with whipped cream, place two of them together so as to inclose the cream, and serve. To vary their appearance, finely-chopped almonds or currants may be strewn over them before the sugar is sprinkled over, and they may be garnished with any bright-colored preserve. Great expedition is necessary in making them, as, if the meringues are not put into the oven as soon as the sugar and eggs are mixed, the former melts, and the mixture runs on the paper instead of keeping egg-shape. The sweeter the meringues are made the crisper will they be; but if there is not sufficient sugar added they will be tough. - Miss Sarah Gill, Columbus,
A classic hard meringue shell, hollowed and paired around whipped cream. The method is sound; what the recipe omits is a temperature, and the one it implies — hot enough to brown — is hotter than most cooks would use today.
- Oven heatNo temperature is given, and "bake till a light brown" points to a hotter oven than modern meringue practice, which is 225-250F for 1 to 1.5 hours, then the oven turned off and the meringues left to dry inside; the second, browning return can be done at 300F for a few minutes if you want the color.
- Boards and brown paperThe three-quarter-inch boards would have served as insulation against fierce bottom heat from a range oven. A heavy rimmed baking sheet lined with parchment does the same job; if your oven runs hot underneath, stack two sheets.
- QuantitiesOne pound of granulated sugar is about 2 1/4 cups; nine large egg whites weigh roughly 9 oz (270 g). That works out to about 1 2/3 parts sugar to one part white by weight, a high-sugar mixture of the sort that makes these shells hard and keepable rather than soft.
- Adding the sugarThe instruction to add all the sugar at once and stir as little as possible is why the recipe insists on speed — undissolved sugar draws water out of the foam and the mixture slackens. Beating the sugar in gradually, a spoonful at a time, gives a more stable meringue and removes the panic, at the cost of a slightly denser shell.
- Whipping the whites"Until the dish can be inverted" is stiff peaks. Any trace of yolk or grease in the bowl will keep the whites from reaching that stage; a copper or scrupulously clean stainless bowl is best, and plastic is the worst offender for retaining fat.
- Hollowing the shellsScooping the soft center out while the meringues are still warm is essential — once cold they shatter. Work quickly with a small spoon, then dry the hollowed shells cut side up to firm the interior.
- Storage"May be kept for weeks" holds only in a genuinely airtight tin in a dry room. Meringue is hygroscopic; in humid weather the shells go tacky within a day and should be re-dried in a low oven before filling.
- Yield and servingExpect roughly 36 to 40 egg-sized shells, or 18 to 20 filled pairs. Fill only at the moment of serving — cream softens the shells within half an hour.
Meringue as a confection of whipped white and sugar is documented in European cookery from the seventeenth century onward, and the hollowed, paired shell filled with whipped cream — what French cooks call a meringue Chantilly — was a fixture of nineteenth-century American dessert tables; it is often said that such recipes helped use up the whites left over from custards, ice creams and sponge cakes that called for yolks alone. The recipe here is credited to a contributor in Columbus, which is typical of how such books were assembled: signed recipes from named women in named towns. The detail about boards cut to fit the oven is a reminder of what a wood- or coal-fired range demanded — the cook had no dial, only her judgment of the heat and a piece of lumber to blunt it.