A CARNIVOROUS ANIMAL AND HER PREY
From stereograph, copyright by Underwood & Underwood, New York
THE GOLDEN RULE COOK BOOK
SIX HUNDRED RECIPES FOR MEATLESS DISHES. ORIGINATED COLLECTED AND ARRANGED BY M. R. L. SHARPE. NEW EDITION PUBLISHED BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, BOSTON, 1912
Copyright, 1907, 1910,
By M. R. L. Sharpe
Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London
All rights reserved
The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A.
It was Margaret More who said, “The world needs not so much to be taught, as reminded.” May this book remind many of the Love they owe to every living creature.
And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.
And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, I have given every green herb for meat; and it was so.
CONTENTS
- Page
- [INTRODUCTION] 11
- [THE KITCHEN] 29
- [THE DINING ROOM] 35
- [SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS] 39
- [SOUPS] 45
- [VEGETABLES] 79
- [VEGETABLE COMBINATIONS] 167
- [NUT DISHES] 177
- [RICE, MACARONI, ETC.] 185
- [CROQUETTES] 197
- [TIMBALES AND PATTIES] 209
- [SAUCES] 217
- [EGGS] 231
- [CHEESE] 249
- [SALADS] 257
- [SAVOURIES] 273
- [SANDWICHES] 281
- [PASTRY, PATTY CASES, ETC.] 287
- [A FEW HOT BREADS] 293
- [PLUM PUDDING AND MINCE PIE] 299
- [MENUS] 303
- [INDEX] 315
Let none falter who thinks he is right.
INTRODUCTION
The arranging of this help for those who are seeking to obey the call to a higher humanitarianism, which is put forth by non-flesh-eating men and women, has been a labour of love: the labour, the result of an earnest endeavour to so write the receipts that “the way-faring woman may not err therein,” the love, of a kind whose integrity may not be questioned, since it has inspired to the never easy task of going against the stream of habit and custom, and to individual effort in behalf of the myriads of gentle and amenable creatures, which an animality that defiles the use of the word has accustomed man to killing and eating.
The name Vegetarian has come to mean one who abstains from animal flesh as food; and, as some designation is necessary, it is perhaps a sufficiently suitable one. This term did not, however, originally classify those who used a bloodless diet, but is derived from the Latin Homo Vegitus, which words described to the Romans a strong, vigorous man. The definition of the word Vegitus, as given in Thomas Holyoke’s Latin Dictionary, is “whole, sound, quick, fresh, lively, lusty, gallant, trim, brave,” and of Vegito, “to refresh, to re-create.” Professor Mayor of England adds to these definitions: “The word vegetarian belongs to an illustrious family; vegetable, which has been called its mother, is really its niece.”
The word has unfortunately become intermingled with various dietetic theories, but the Vegetarian who is one because his conscience for one reason or another condemns the eating of flesh, occupies a very different place in the world of ethics from one who is simply refraining from meat eating in an effort to cure bodily ills.
Indeed, the dyspeptic frequenting the usual Vegetarian restaurant has little opportunity to know much about vegetables as food, the menu being, as a rule, so crowded with various mixtures which are supposedly “meat substitutes” that vegetables pure and simple find small place. This book contains no meat substitutes, as such, but receipts for the palatable preparation of what is called by many “live foods,”—that is, food which has no blood to shed and does not, therefore, become dead before it can be eaten.
There will also be found lacking from the index such dishes as “Vegetarian Hamburg Steak,” “Pigeon Pie, Vegetarian style,” etc., which should repel rather than attract, by bringing to mind what Bernard Shaw has graphically spoken of as “scorched carcasses.”
It has been proven by myself and my household that flesh eating may be safely stopped in one day with no injury to health or strength, and that a table supplied from the receipts in this book can make those whom it furnishes with food well and strong as far as food can make them so.
There are many reasons why thoughtful, cleanly, humane people should not feed upon animals, but there is a surprising deafness to this fact shown by the majority of those active in humane charities. One marvels to see hundreds of consecrated workers in session, putting forth every effort for the enacting of laws for the amelioration of the sufferings of cattle travelling to slaughter by car and ship, who are still content to patronise the butcher shop to buy food supplied by the dead bodies of these tortured victims of a false appetite. Mere thoughtlessness can make the kindest act cruelly inconsistent, for I once saw a woman presiding at a meeting held to discountenance the wearing of aigrettes with a sheaf of them decorating her bonnet. This looks much like receiving stolen goods while denouncing theft.
It is well to write, and legislate, and pray for better and kinder treatment of these frightened, thirst-maddened, tortured creatures on their journey to our tables, but the surest, quickest way to help (and this can be done even while continuing to work for the alleviation of their sufferings) is to stop feeding upon them.
In a recent issue of a paper devoted to humane matters there is an indignant protest against the sufferings endured by crated chickens in a certain market, and another article deplores the cruelty shown to turtles in the same place, but when we know the writers of these protests to be still willing to use these creatures on their tables, it is not always easy to fully credit their tender-heartedness. In another such paper there appear from year to year sentimental pictures and poems extolling the kindliness and virtues of “the cattle upon a thousand hills,” while those same pages print instructions on the most humane way of slaying them, giving as a reason for the sudden and painless death described that suffering “poisons the meat.”
The favourite phrase, “our four-footed friends,” seems rather an anachronism in the face of our acknowledged relations to them as eater and eaten, for the phrase indicates a mutual pact of friendship, which, however well sustained by them, is dishonoured by man; for even cannibals, we are told, sink no lower than to eat their foes.
The demand for butcher’s meat may not seem materially lessened because I do not eat it, but it is lessened notwithstanding, and I rejoice to know that in the past seven years my abstinence from flesh must have resulted in a little less slaughter, and I am glad to have reduced by even one drop the depth of that ocean of blood. I have heard the Biblical statement that man was to have dominion over all the earth quoted as a justification for the eating of the lower animals. We will some day be so civilised that we will recognise the great truth that dominion implies care, and guardianship, and protection rather than the right to destroy.
The first objection voiced against Vegetarianism is not usually against its principle, but its practice; we are told that the refusal to eat meat causes inconvenience, and that it is best to “eat what is set before you, asking no questions for conscience’s sake.” I could respect the position of one who literally believed and consistently acted on this mandate, but where in Christendom can he be found? Few of us could or would eat the flesh of a pet lamb, or partake knowingly of horse flesh, or could or would feel called upon to dine on these lines with the peoples who eat dog, or with so-called cannibals. The host might have secured, in a broad spirit of hospitality, just the particular carcass which most pleased his own palate, but courtesy seldom forces us to eat any flesh other than the sorts to which our own habits have accustomed us.
There is a well-known story of an American statesman who was reared by Vegetarian parents in the country, and taken while still a small boy to dine at a neighbour’s. During the progress of the meal a large platter was borne into the room, on which lay something the like of which he had not seen on any table. He stared in wonder, and finally located the resemblance and shouted, “Why, mother, if that isn’t a dead hen!” Habit had not overcome his horror of that particular dead thing as food, as it would have done had he seen dead hens served as food all his life.
As to the inconvenience caused my friends when I am at their tables, I consider it of such small consequence compared to the fact that even one child should be standing almost knee-deep in blood in some slaughter-house, working to supply my wants, that it is not worth a second thought. No one need go hungry from any well-planned dinner, even though no extra preparation has been made for the non-meat-eating guest; but if my hostess knows in advance that I do not eat meat, and wishes to have prepared an especial dish, I give her the benefit of the doubt, and believe that she is as pleased to do it as I would be in her place. We like to take a little extra trouble to entertain our friends, and the thought expended to give others pleasure is perhaps the real joy of hospitality.
Another class of objector likes to remind us that we take life when we eat vegetables, or drink, or breathe. A friend, who has since ceased to consider the unnecessary and cruel slaughtering of thousands of creatures daily a fit subject for joking, once sent me in raillery a sonnet which rehearsed the sad death suffered by a cabbage to satisfy a Vegetarian’s selfish cravings. I find no qualms in my own conscience on this subject, but should I ever come to feel as these over-sensitive claim I should, I hope I will not then eat even the “innocent cabbage.”
Again, if the germs in the water we drink and the air we breathe do die by reason of our drinking and breathing I endure no self-condemnation. Man cannot be required to do the impossible by any Principle of Good, and to do each day what good he is able to do, to avoid the evil he can avoid, and in every difficulty choose what he thinks to be the lesser of two evils, is perhaps as much as even Divine Love expects of him to-day.
It is well to face the unpleasant fact that there are occasions when in our present state of development it seems necessary to kill in self-defence, as it were, moths, rats, etc.; but even in this we can “do our best,” and it has been well said, “angels can do no more.” We can by care in our households greatly reduce this necessity, and we can always see that no creatures, although destroying our property, pilfering or stealing, are in their death made to suffer. In this connection I would urge every one who reads these lines to never permit a piece of sticky fly-paper to be brought into the house, for of all cruel ways of destruction, this slow method, by which the unfortunate fly almost dismembers itself in its frantic efforts to escape, is one of the most fiendishly contrived.
An advocate of Vegetarianism has truly said, “A vegetable diet is as little connected with weakness and cowardice as meat eating is with physical force and courage.” That Vegetarians are not physical weaklings is no mere matter of opinion, but is proven by the giant Japanese wrestlers; the ancient Greek wrestlers; those Indian regiments of the British army showing most endurance; by the peasantry of the world, which is seldom able to afford meat, and above all, by those famous Vegetarians who march around the globe doing the work carnivorous man is too weak to do,—the horse, the ox, the camel, and the elephant. One of our best-known cooking teachers and food experts printed this statement not long ago: “While meat seems necessary to the rapid development of the American, I must contend that a well-selected vegetable diet will give greater health, bodily vigour, and mental strength,” which would seem contradictory, for even an American would not seem to require other food than that which will give him greatest health, bodily vigour, and mental strength.
Nor have we cause to feel ashamed of the mentality of the guests at Ceres’ table, which is graced by a goodly company; the list of names encircling the cover of “The Vegetarian Magazine” reads, “Adam, Hesiod, Gautama, Isaiah, Daniel, Plato, Zoroaster, Aristotle, Seneca, Ovid, Plutarch, Pope, Swedenborg, Leonardo da Vinci, Voltaire, Franklin, Westley, Linnæus, Shelley, Tolstoi, and King Oscar II.” Others are Bernard Shaw, and Maurice Maeterlinck (who is said to have become a non-meat eater to gain greater endurance for his favourite pastime of mountain climbing), Richard Wagner, and General Booth.
But after all, the one great argument for a fleshless diet is the humanitarian one, and it does not seem possible that persons exist to-day who do not know of the horrors of cruelty which take place hourly, in order that meat may be eaten by men and women who could not look without sickening at the process which has made possible the roast upon their tables, but who are nevertheless the employers of every fainting child in the stock-yards, and every brutalised man in the shambles, whose wages they pay with every pound of meat they buy. The real butcher of an animal is the one for whom it receives its death blow, not the one who actually deals that blow.
A man who recently visited some stock-yards writes: “We were sorry to see the Thor man make mislicks at a pretty heifer. His first stroke did not fell her, and she staggered and looked at him so wonderingly and pathetically. He could not strike her while her head was in that position, and after giving her two or three more ineffectual blows, she looked at him so reproachfully, as if pleading, ‘Why do you treat me so cruelly? What have I ever done to you?’ Finally he got her down and out of her misery. I shall never take a bit of steak on my fork without seeing that pretty heifer lifting her stunned head to that awkward pounder.”
Perhaps nothing more revolting than this same writer’s remarks anent pig-killing has been written, but since the words are accurately true, they should be fit to read, for if the words which tell the truth about meat as food are unfit for our ears, the meat itself is not fit for our mouths. He describes the pig-sticking, the skinning, and the process which makes the pig into pork, and then adds: “He goes into the cooling room, and the whole effort from that time is to keep him from crumbling back into dust, attacked by worms. Salt and brine and smoke and cold prevent the corpse from utter dissolution. The refrigerator is a sort of Purgatory where the brute stays until he finally finds a cemetery in the human alimentary canal.” Yet this man expects to again have meat “on his fork”!
The “Cosmopolitan” calls attention to the remarkable procession daily passing through a certain slaughter-house, as follows: “Imagine a procession of 10,000 cattle marching two by two, in a line fifteen miles long; let 20,000 sheep follow them, bleating along twelve miles of road; after them drive sixteen miles of hogs, 27,000 strong; then let 30,000 fowls bring up the rear, clucking and quacking and gobbling, over a space of six miles; and in this whole caravan, stretching for nearly fifty miles and requiring two days to pass a given point, you will see the animals devoted to death in the packing houses of —— & Co. in a single day. Surely a Buddhist would think that the head of that establishment had much to answer for. Never before in the world’s history was a massacre of the innocents organised on such a stupendous scale or with such scientific system.”
People are surprisingly callous to the sufferings of those animals destined to become food. Recently some well-dressed, well-mannered men were on a train returning East from a Western visit, and the train coming to a standstill for some reason, their conversation was plainly overheard by their fellow-passengers. They were discussing a visit to the stock-yards, and one of them, quite convulsed with laughter, cried out that he really thought the most comical sight he had seen while away, in fact one of the funniest things he had seen in his whole life, was the antics of a pig “which had escaped out of the scalding pen!” The pig-sticker had evidently been as awkward that time as the man who missed the pretty heifer.
It is daily less possible to buy turkeys and chickens minus their heads. The delicate death without the use of the old-time axe (which we degraded men and women have thought a pretty symbol to place on Thanksgiving Day table cards) is brought about by hanging the fowls up by the feet, in what fright can be imagined, an incision is then made in the roof of the mouth, and after bleeding to death, which, as in the case of calves or veal, insures solid white flesh, they are served as food to dainty women who can scarcely bear to kill a fly, and alas! to some members of the societies for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals!
One crate of chickens can encase more suffering than I want endured for me. There is first the terror in capture, then the suffering of being thrust, legs often tied, in the small over-crowded crate, then the journey in the shrieking train, and the thirst-tortured hours in the sun before the final twist of the neck or the blow of the axe, given in many cases just before natural death would render the fowl unfit for sale. And such food, poisoned by fear and suffering, is considered the most delicate, and thought fit to feed to invalids!
That all chickens do not endure the same suffering before death is no excuse for eating them, for some will have to submit to it while chicken is an article of food. The modern invention of fattening fowl by the machine-stuffing method, to make what are called in England “Surrey fowls,” and in America are given various fancy names, is so revolting that it almost makes one faint to read a true account of it. We are selfishly prone to comfort ourselves when these things are brought to our notice with the thought that the lower creatures do not suffer as we would. The fact is that no two live beings suffer the same in any event, physical or mental, but the lower animal or bird or fish suffers in its fear and death all it is capable of suffering, and we have no right to make any creature do this for our pleasure.
Mr. E. Bell has written, “Dreadful are the revelations made by humane men, who, setting aside personal comfort and peace of mind, have endeavoured to sound the depths of animal agony and bloodshed. The process of flaying alive, and even of dismembering animals before the breath has left their bodies, is far from uncommon in private slaughter-houses.”
When we witness the cruelty to horses on our streets, though they are property which the most unwise would naturally seek to care for, we can only imagine what must chance to the unfortunate creatures, already condemned to death and only regarded as food, at the hands of the hardened men whose miserable lot it is to be employed by Christendom to do its most evil work.
In a pamphlet called “An Epitome of Vegetarianism” C. P. Newcombe writes: “Our opponents are quick to point out the supposed resemblance between the canine teeth of man and those of the carnivora, forgetting that they are even more prominent in the ape, the horse, and the camel. We accept the challenge and appeal for an authoritative statement of the facts to the great masters of science, among whom there is complete agreement, viz., that expressed by Baron Cuvier, the Professor of Natural History in the College of France, who wrote in ‘The Animal Kingdom,’ vol. i, page 88: ‘Fruits, roots, and the other succulent parts of vegetables appear to be the natural food of man; his hands afford him a facility for gathering them, and his short and comparatively weak jaws, his short canine teeth, not passing beyond the common line of others, and his tuberculous cheek teeth would not permit him either to feed upon herbage or devour flesh unless these aliments were previously prepared by the culinary process.’ Similar opinions are expressed by Sir Charles Bell, F. R. S., Prof. William Lawrence, F. R. S., Sir Richard Owen, K. C. B., F. R. S., and Dr. Charles Darwin, with many others.”
While interesting in stating a case, this interests me as an argument but little, for if we were carnivorously made, with our minds, our hearts, our capacity for love and charity, and that great hope we have of finally manifesting the perfection of the sons of God, we still should control our tendencies by a higher law, and no more be carnivorous than we are apes, or marauders, or any other mental or physical manifestation from which spiritual evolution has lifted us high.
But this humanitarianism does not consider alone the animals slaughtered, but the men, women, and children who do this revolting work. One packing-house in the West advertises over 18,000 employees; multiply this by thousands and one can estimate the numbers of human beings who are thus degraded and brutalised. In my own household I have made it a point of honour to demand no labour which I would not be willing to do myself; I might fail in strength, but morally I would be willing to undertake any work required by me, and from the day I realised what I required from others if I ate meat, I became an abstainer from it, for no surer ethical truth can be stated than that we have no moral right to demand from the hands of another, work we would not be willing to undertake ourselves.
Mr. Henry Salt has written, “Of all recognised occupations, the work which is looked upon with the greatest loathing (next to the hangman’s) is that of the butcher—the trade of doing to death countless numbers of inoffensive and highly organised creatures, amid scenes of indescribable filth and ferocity—is delegated to a pariah class of slaughter-men, who are thus themselves made the victims of a grievous social wrong.”
So large a percentage of the murderers of to-day have been butchers, they or their fathers before them, that these statistics alone constitute a sufficient argument for Vegetarianism.
Man’s inhumanity to himself in this matter of flesh eating is rapidly being uncovered by meat inspectors, food experts, and hundreds of physicians the world over. The statistics comparing meat-eating and non-meat-eating races with regard to tuberculosis, cancer, appendicitis, etc., are of the greatest interest to those who care not only for the health but for the mere cleanness of their bodies.
Dr. B. W. Richardson, in a book called “The Field of Disease,” says: “In Jewish communities there are a number of men set apart to act as inspectors of animal food. They attend at the slaughter-houses, and after an animal is slain and dressed they submit it to inspection; then, unless they put upon it their sign, that it is free from disease, it is not permitted to enter a Jewish family. It enters into the families outside the Jewish community, so that we who are not Jews actually accept into our bodies food which the Jews have rejected as diseased.”
The statistics taken from two small abattoirs alone, for one year, as given by a secretary of one Jewish ecclesiastical board are as follows:
| Total oxen killed | 22,308 |
| Diseased | 7,885 |
| Total calves killed | 3,330 |
| Diseased | 705 |
| Total sheep killed | 41,556 |
| Diseased | 13,019 |
According to this very nearly one-third of all the meat sold to Christian families is tainted by parasitical disease. If an animal dies of cancer, tuberculosis, etc., our laws protect us from the carcass, but, if slaughtered, the diseased portion is cut away and the remainder is sold as fit for food. Such blood is squeezed from beef and poured by the gallon by loving hands into the willing lips of consumptives and anæmics!
The true Vegetarian will not be seen adorned (?) by any of the reapings from a dead body, whether they be feathers or furs, for these have no beauty in the sight of those who see them in thought, dripping with the blood from which they can never be truly cleansed.
Those who would “strain at gnats” while swallowing camels, criticise the Vegetarian for his kid gloves and his leather shoes; but perfect conditions do not yet prevail for the absolutely consistent carrying out of his principles; his effort is to help to bring these to pass, and he does not refrain from beginning for the reason that he cannot yet do all. An adequate substitute for leather has been made which experiments have proven of value, but, as yet, there is no demand which justifies its manufacture.
Many express the fear that, were wholesale slaughter abolished, the earth would be overrun by the lower animals; but were artificial and unnatural breeding discontinued we can safely trust that the animal creation would find its proper place in the world, as everything does, under the guidance of the controlling Mind which is Creator.
Stop and think for a moment what the world would be like to-day if it were Vegetarian. If the world were Vegetarian, the endless caravans of doomed creatures would not be ambling to the shambles; not a man would be brutalised by the daily slaughter of hundreds of gentle creatures; not a woman would be engaged in sorting edible parts from the dissected carcasses, making all red around her; not a child would be standing deep in offal, seeking useful bits of dead bodies; “where sympathy is, cruelty is impossible,” therefore, not a dog would be maltreated, not a cat selfishly deserted to starve, not a horse cruelly beaten, and not a vivisectionist could be found on the face of the earth! Those who had learned to be just to the lower animals would not fail in their duties to man, and in this millennium, prophesied in [ Isaiah xi: 9], slaughter-houses, transport cars, and cattle-ships would be empty, and the fields and meadows would be filled with labourers under the clear sky, tilling the ground to provide the food of man.
M. R. L. S.
Providence House, Chestnut Hill, Mass.
I do not see how it is possible that so many good people remain meat-eaters.
Count Leo Tolstoi.
THE KITCHEN
There is no room in the house which requires such careful furnishing as the kitchen, and much time may be saved there if the right thing is in the right place, for just as truly as “the means to do ill deeds make ill deeds done,” do the means to do things well tend toward their being done.
To house-builders I would urge that it pays to have a white enamelled sink, and to insist that no sand-soap or scouring soap be used on it, as this removes the finish and makes it less easy to keep it spotless. See that a package of one of the cleaning powders is placed near the sink, convenient for use the first time the maid looks about for materials, and over the sink on small hooks have hung two or three different shaped sink brushes. An enamelled soap-dish should be fastened above the sink, and on the left of it a grooved, slightly slanting draining board for washed dishes; hanging under this on a large hook should be the enamelled dishpan and back of it a wire drainer, both hanging free from the wall.
Any kitchen can have a chair-rail put around it, and this four-inch wide board should be arranged with small hooks placed at a distance of ten or twelve inches apart, and on these should hang the enamelled spoons, strainers, egg-beater, small jugs, and the saucepans, the bottoms of these being always in evidence and not out of sight in cupboards. The Europeans have always had their cooking utensils displayed as a part of the kitchen furnishing, and when this is done there is less temptation to neglect their absolute cleanliness.
One of the comforts of my kitchen is a holder for saucepan covers; I was about to invent such a holder when I found that the wire ones made to display half a dozen handsome plates were perfectly suitable. One of these hangs beside the stove and the covers are conveniently at hand when required.
A cupboard built in the kitchen, sixteen inches deep and six feet across, will hold all the casseroles, baking-pans, tins for spices, etc., which the usual family requires. Mine was built with this conviction, and if it becomes overcrowded, I know it has things in it which do not belong there, and a few moments given to overseeing its rearrangement always leave it with all the space required.
The table shown in the illustration is becoming well-known in American kitchens; the deep drawers for flour, etc., are a convenience not easy to estimate, but the fact that two sizes of pastry boards slide snugly into their places under the top is its best feature.
A ball of string in a holder hung up with small scissors attached, a neat calendar, a washable tablet for orders, a burnt-match holder, a match-box holder fastened near the stove, a small mirror on a door or in an inconspicuous corner, and a wall clock are things which I advise the young housekeeper to see securely placed in her kitchen before the pictures are hung in the drawing-room.
A plate-rack is not only always quaint and decorative, but is most useful and labour-saving. A pestle and mortar should be among the utensils of every kitchen, as well as a vegetable mill, and a small hard-wood board, used exclusively for the cutting of fruit, vegetables, etc., which are to be sliced, saves many a cut finger, as the plate usually used is not the proper shape or texture for such a slippery process.
A piece of thick glass measuring about 7×9 inches, and bound about the edges with heavy gummed paper or linen, is useful to lay upon the open pages of the cook-book, and serves the double purpose of holding it open at the required page and of protecting it from floured or buttered fingers.
A plentiful supply of the small earthenware dishes, called casseroles, marmites, ramekins, and gratin dishes, is especially useful in the Vegetarian’s kitchen.
Those building homes should see that the place on which the stove is to stand is covered with suitable tiling, and this should extend for two feet or more around the stove. The floor itself is best covered with linoleum, and if a colour scheme is carried out in this room, as it may well be in these days of many-coloured enamelled ware, it can be accented by the linoleum chosen and the kitchen thus made as beautiful for its purpose as any room in the house.
I have not partaken of a fellow creature for fifteen years.—Bernard Shaw.
THE DINING ROOM
If a breakfast room is not used, a small winged table set in a sunny corner, or bay-window recess of the dining room, and used as a breakfast table, is an improvement upon breakfast at the large dining table, and can be arranged in almost any dining room.
If pictures are hung in this room nothing less appropriate than those usually chosen as fit subjects for its walls can be imagined. Engravings showing the gentle deer hunted to his death, with the dog’s fangs already buried in his flesh, stuffed heads of the same animal, and paintings of dead fish, ducks or grouse, hanging by their feet, should not give pleasure to or improve the appetites of humane people. If pictures are used let us have those which depict life, joy, kindness, and beauty rather than cruelty, bloodshed, and death.
A DINING-ROOM FIREPLACE
Among the noblest in the land,
Though he may count himself the least,
That man I honor and revere
Who without favor, without fear,
In the great city dares to stand
The friend of every friendless beast.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS
SEASONING
The subject of seasoning is indeed holy ground in culinary matters, and after much thought and experiment I have decided that the phrase so deplored by young housekeepers, “season to taste,” is after all not the worst one to use. No such inaccurate directions were to appear in this cook-book when planned, but I have finally decided with the army of wiser cooks who have preceded me that accurate measurements in seasoning are dangerous to success. Not only do tastes vary, but much depends on the time the seasoning is added, on the rapidity with which the food is cooking, etc. With this in mind, and very long prejudice against the old phrase above mentioned, I have compromised and frequently been tempted to state quantities of salt and pepper, usually regretting when I have. The truth is, unless one can “season to taste” one cannot cook palatable dishes, and my final word on the subject is that it is well to always use a little more salt and pepper than seems advisable, and then just before serving add a little more!
MEASURING
Weights as a means of measuring quantities have been avoided in these recipes, as I can see no advantage to the system which uses them, and I have been able to show even English cooks that the scales are not the most necessary part of the kitchen furnishing, and they have become devoted to our simple method of using the kitchen cup as the standard. It holds ½ pint, and 2 cups, therefore, hold 1 pint; 4 cups hold 1 quart; and I find no fault with the old couplet,—
“A pint’s a pound
The world around.”
It usually is, and one cannot go far wrong in acting as if it always were.
THICKENING
In thickening sauces and soups, ordinary flour can always be used and cornstarch also, and as a rule I have said “flour” only in these recipes, but have only refrained from always advising potato-flour because it would have confused many who cannot obtain it in America. In Germany it is always used, and when it can be had is far nicer for thickening all vegetable sauces and soups than any other sort of flour.
AN HERB GARDEN
No one thing pays better for the little trouble expended than a small herb garden. Buy two or three tarragon plants, cover them in the winter, and in the autumn pick the leaves to make vinegar and to dry. Plant chervil, parsley, thyme, chives, and a plant of rosemary.
A window-box will keep parsley and chives on hand, and a clump of chives from the market will grow for weeks if set in a bowl and watered occasionally.
GELATINE
Instead of the usual gelatine use must be made of arrowroot or a gelatine advertised to be purely vegetable. One tablespoon is usually allowed to 1 pint of liquid, but experiments must be made and there will usually be directions found with the package.
FAT FOR FRYING
The Vegetarian can well afford to do away with that doubtful economy, cooking butter. For ordinary frying use good butter; for deep fat use a good brand of cooking-oil, or cocoanut butter.
CANNED GOODS
It seems to be a habit with many people to decry the use of canned vegetables, although I believe there are few households which subsist without them. My experience is that the best grades of canned vegetables are often far sweeter and better, fresher in fact, than vegetables that can be bought in city markets. The housekeeper should make it a point to know which brands she prefers and to trade where she can get them; and where no retailer carries them she can usually obtain cases containing two dozen each from the preservers themselves. A little trouble taken in the autumn to stock the store-room, instead of ordering “a can of peas” now and then at random, saves time and trouble in the end. Among the canned vegetables which are put up and sealed the day they are picked by the best firms are beets, peas, corn, spinach, hard-shelled beans, tomatoes, stringless beans, wax beans, mushrooms, pimentos, okra, okra-tomato, asparagus, etc.; and the saving of time and labour in the preparation of beans, spinach, and beets especially, is worth consideration. People make the mistake of merely warming up canned goods and then serving them, whereas when the can is opened the vegetables are only ready to be seasoned and finished as they would be had they been boiled at home. Good canned vegetables are not easy to improve upon, and I serve them constantly to people who will not easily credit my statement that they are not so-called “fresh” vegetables.
I will not kill or hurt any living creature needlessly, nor destroy any beautiful thing, but will strive to save and comfort all gentle life and guard and perfect all natural beauty upon the earth.
SOUPS
Most clear soups can be greatly improved in colour by using a small quantity of vegetable soup browning, or caramel. Do not overdo it, however, as the flavour is not pleasant when too pronounced. All cream soups should be cooked in a double boiler.
VEGETABLE STOCK
Few meat stocks have of themselves more flavour than vegetable stock, that is, the water in which vegetables have cooked. The water in which rice, onions, leeks, celery, beans, cabbage, etc., have boiled is valuable in Vegetarian cookery, and the wise cook will use it in many ways to enhance the flavours of soups and sauces.
A SIMPLE CONSOMMÉ OR STOCK
A simple way of preparing a rich, clear consommé is to wash well ½ cup of German lentils, drain them and toss them for ten minutes in a saucepan in which 1 tablespoon of butter has been melted. Then pour on them 5 cups of cold water, set them over a hot fire, and let them boil rapidly about half an hour only. Drain, and strain through a fine cloth, and return to a clean saucepan with 1 bay leaf, 1 slice of onion, 2 cloves, and ½ teaspoon of celery seed; simmer slowly for fifteen minutes, season with salt and pepper, and add a little sherry if liked.
If the lentils are cooked longer, it will make a cloudy soup, which will be stronger but not clear.
CLEAR BOUILLON OR CONSOMMÉ
There are various vegetable extracts in the market which, when diluted, make delicious stock, or clear soup. If these are not available, a clear vegetable broth may be made as follows:
Wash 3 cups of any dried beans or lentils, and put them to soak in a covered earthenware dish with 10 cups of water for twelve hours or so. Then empty with that same water into a kettle, and let come slowly to the boiling point, skim frequently, and do not let it actually boil. When clear, and there seems no further need of skimming, add 1 cup each of cut onions, carrots, turnips, 1 tablespoon of parsley, 1 tablespoon of salt, 1 clove of garlic, and 1 teaspoon of thyme, etc., 1 tablespoon of celery seed, and 1 bay leaf.
Let boil up once, and then place on the back of the stove to barely simmer for two hours; then strain through a fine sieve, and a good broth is made. The beans, etc., can be utilised in a deep pie, or with brown or white sauce in crust cups, in a curry, or many other ways.
To make this into a strong, clear soup put 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, and when melted add ½ cup each of chopped onions, carrots, turnips, and celery, 2 cloves, and a bit of parsley; fry until somewhat browned, then cover with 6 cups of the broth, and let simmer very quietly for two hours. Skim often, drain, let cool, remove any grease from the top, and to clarify add to it, when cold, the slightly beaten yolk of 1 egg and the whites of 3, then set over a hot fire and stir vigorously, watching for the first sign of boiling. At this, remove to a place where it cannot even simmer, but will be warm for half an hour, and strain through a fine, clean cloth. A wineglass of sherry may be added if to be served in cups.
CREAM OF ARTICHOKE
Scrape and slice enough Jerusalem artichokes to make 2 cups, and cover them with cold water. Let them stand for fifteen or twenty minutes, and put them in a saucepan with 2 quarts of cold water or milk, or 1 quart of each, and let them cook for an hour or until thoroughly soft. Now rub them through a sieve with 2 cups of the stock in which they cooked, and return to the fire. When boiling add 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 of flour, rubbed together, and 1 teaspoon of salt and 1 saltspoon of pepper, and cook about ten minutes before adding 2 cups of hot milk, or 1 cup of milk and 1 cup of cream. Stir well and let boil up once before serving. A teaspoon of chopped parsley or chives improves the appearance and taste of almost any cream soup.
CREAM OF ARTICHOKE WITH NASTURTIUMS
Make the plain cream of artichoke soup as in preceding recipe, and add before straining 1 handful of nasturtium leaves and blossoms; or, instead, add 1 tablespoon of these, finely minced, to the soup before serving.
ASPARAGUS SOUP
Use 1 can of asparagus, cut off the tips, and lay them aside. Cut up the stalks, cover with 4 cups of cold milk (or use half water and half milk), and let cook slowly in a double boiler for half an hour; then strain, pressing the asparagus well to extract the flavour. Return to the saucepan, add 1 teaspoon of sugar, 1 tablespoon of butter, into which 1 teaspoon of flour has been made smooth, season generously with salt and pepper, add the asparagus tips, 1 cup of milk, and, just before serving, 1 tablespoon of whipped cream. A tablespoon of minced onion fried for ten minutes in butter is sometimes added to the stalks while cooking.
BARLEY AND TOMATO SOUP
Cook 1 can of tomatoes and 1 chopped Spanish onion together for fifteen minutes, then rub through a wire sieve; add 3 tablespoons of pearl barley, 1 tablespoon of butter, some pepper and salt, and cook for one hour, until the barley is soft. Re-season before serving.
BLACK BEAN SOUP
Soak 2 cups of beans for twelve hours or more, and then drain them and put into 8 cups of cold water; add 3 whole cloves, 3 whole allspice, and 3 whole peppers, salt well and boil gently for two hours, rub through sieve, and reheat. Mix 1 tablespoon of thickening flour, and 1 tablespoon of butter and water, and stir into the soup at boiling point; season afresh and pour into a tureen in which are placed, neatly sliced, 1 hard-boiled egg and half a dozen seeded slices of lemon. This soup is improved by adding 1 wineglass of sherry, or one may substitute for it a few drops of Tomato Chutney or Worcestershire sauce.
BELGIAN SOUP
Take 4 cups of diced turnips and put them in a saucepan with 2 tablespoons of butter, and stir for ten minutes over a slow fire; then stir in 2 cups of water, 2 teaspoons of brown sugar, and plenty of pepper and salt, and let simmer for another ten minutes; add 2 cups of milk thickened with 1 tablespoon of flour, let boil up, stirring constantly, and serve with croutons.
PLAIN BEAN SOUP
Wash 2 cups of any sort of dried beans and soak twelve hours or more in cold water. Before using, strain them and cover with 8 cups of cold water. Put over the fire and let cook gently for four hours, then rub them through a sieve into their own stock, season with 1 tablespoon of salt and ½ teaspoon of pepper and 1 tablespoon of butter, and let them cook ten minutes longer. Serve with half-inch squares of toast in the tureen.
BROWN BEAN SOUP
Take 1 cup of brown beans and ½ cup of German lentils, wash well and put in a saucepan with plenty of cold water, 2 or 3 chopped onions, 1 stalk of celery, 1 bay leaf, and simmer together for three hours, then strain. If a thin soup is wanted, do not press any of the pulp through the strainer, but if it is liked somewhat thick, do so. Return the strained soup to the saucepan and thicken with 1 teaspoon of thickening flour. This is now delicious soup stock, and can be served plain, or varied by adding peas, diced carrots, spaghetti, a few drops of sauce, a little sherry, tomato catsup, or curry powder. Season well with salt and pepper before serving.
RED BEAN SOUP
Soak for 8 hours or more 2 cups of red beans, then put them in a large saucepan containing 8 cups of cold water, 1 cup of milk, and 2 onions halved, each having 4 cloves stuck in it. Let cook for two hours, then press through a sieve, reheat, adding just before serving 1 wineglass of claret and fresh seasoning of salt and pepper. 1 hard-boiled egg chopped fine is an improvement to this soup.
LIMA BEAN CREAM SOUP
Soak 2 cups of dried lima beans for several hours and then put them in a saucepan with 1 cup of cold water and 1 cup of milk and let them cook for two hours, adding salt when they have partly cooked. Put 1 tablespoon of butter in a frying pan, and when melted add 1 onion chopped fine. Let cook slowly until browned, then scrape the contents of the frying pan into the saucepan containing the beans, and add 1 tablespoon of tomato catsup or chutney and press all through a sieve, and re-season before serving. If liked a little thick, use 1 tablespoon of flour, made smooth in ½ cup of milk or cream, to thicken. A tablespoon of whipped cream in the tureen is always an improvement to a cream soup.
DUTCH CABBAGE SOUP
Make exactly like Cockie-Leekie soup, using the water in which a cabbage has boiled for stock and adding ½ cup of finely chopped cabbage instead of using any of the barley to return to the strained soup. Those who like caraway seed will enjoy the addition of 1 teaspoon of these to the soup. If used, add them with the chopped cabbage after the other seasoning has been removed.
CALCUTTA BISQUE
Put 1 cup of tomato pulp in a saucepan and with it 1 bay leaf. When hot add to it 1 saltspoon of soda, and as it foams stir slowly into it 3 or 4 cups of milk, 1 teaspoon of curry powder, 1 teaspoon of butter, and 1 saltspoon of salt. Let boil up once and serve with croutons.
The water in which rice has boiled or any vegetable stock may be substituted for milk and the soda then omitted.
CANTON STEW
Put 2 cups of finely shredded cabbage in enough water to boil and let cook slowly until tender, which should be in about three quarters of an hour. When the cabbage has been cooking half an hour, add a cup of milk, and when it is nearly done put in 2 cups of milk; let boil up once, then season with salt, black pepper, and pour in a hot tureen, in which should be laid 1 teaspoon of butter. Those who like oyster crackers served in or with milk stews can use them with this soup which greatly resembles an oyster stew in flavour.
CARROT BROTH
Scrape and cut 3 or 4 large carrots (or more of the small French sort) in eighths lengthwise and boil them until tender. Put 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, and when melted add 1 scant half cup of oatmeal to it, putting in 1 tablespoon at a time and stirring carefully with a wooden spoon until all the butter is taken up; then put in 1 ladle of stock in which the carrots have been cooked, and continue stirring; then another ladle of stock, and so on until a cup and a half of stock has been added during ten minutes’ slow cooking. Now put in another cup of stock and let cook ten minutes; then, as the soup will be getting too thick, add another cup of stock and so on, thinning the soup with additional stock until the oatmeal is thoroughly cooked. If Quaker Oats is used, the soup will only have to cook about forty minutes, and it is best to strain it before serving; fine Scotch meal will take longer, but does not need to be strained and thickens somewhat better.
When the soup is half cooked add 1 teaspoon of salt, 1 saltspoon of pepper, and a dash of nutmeg. (Serve the carrots with a plain sauce or warm them up next day in some of the ways mentioned under Carrots.)
CREAM OF CARROT AND ONION
Take 2 cups of grated carrot and 1 chopped onion and fry for ten minutes with 1 tablespoon of butter and then cover with 4 cups of cold water and let boil. Add salt and pepper and in twenty minutes 1 cup of milk in which 1 tablespoon of flour has been dissolved.
CREAM OF CARROTS
Put 2 cups of grated carrot with 1 pint (2 cups) of cold water in a double boiler, and when heated add 2 tablespoons of butter and 1 teaspoon of sugar. Let cook for an hour, then add ½ cup of stale bread crumbs and 2 cups of water, and let cook half an hour longer. Rub the contents of the double boiler through a fine sieve, add 1½ cups of hot milk, 1 tablespoon of salt and a saltspoon of pepper, and return to the boiler. Beat 2 egg-yolks in ½ cup of milk, and when the soup boils again stir them into it. Stir hard for one minute and serve.
CREAM OF CHEESE
Put 1 quart (or 4 cups) of milk in a double boiler, and put with it ¾ of a cup of grated cheese, 1 teaspoon of grated onion, 1 teaspoon of some piquant sauce, ¼ teaspoon of salt, a dash of cayenne pepper, and 1 tablespoon of flour and 1 of butter rubbed together. Stir until smooth, then beat the yolks of 2 eggs with 2 tablespoons of milk, put in the tureen, and pour the boiling soup over them, stirring during the process. Add a little salt and serve with croutons.
CREAM OF CAULIFLOWER
Take a good-sized cauliflower, and let it soak in cold water, which is slightly salted, for half an hour; then drain it and put it, head upwards, in a saucepan which is not over large, and let it cook for half an hour uncovered. Put in a double boiler 1 quart of milk (4 cups), 1 onion and 1 bay leaf, and let them cook together while the cauliflower is boiling. Drain the cauliflower when done, and reserve ½ cup of the little sprays which form the head, mash the remainder in a wooden bowl, and add to it 2 cups of the stock in which it boiled and put in with the boiling milk; stir well, and let cook five minutes, then put through a sieve and return to the fire with a thickening of 1 tablespoon of flour rubbed together with 1 tablespoon of butter, season lightly with salt and pepper and a dash of nutmeg, add the ½ cup of cauliflower as a garnish, and let cook ten minutes more before serving. A tablespoon of whipped cream is an addition if added at the last.
CHESTNUT SOUP
Peel and blanch 1 quart of Italian chestnuts and chop them fine, then boil for half an hour in 2 quarts of water. Strain the chestnuts and crush them to fine pulp in a mortar, and gradually stir on this 1 quart of the stock in which the chestnuts cooked, and then rub all through a sieve. Return to the fire in a saucepan with 1 cup of bread crumbs, 1 tablespoon of salt, and 1 saltspoon of pepper. Cook for half an hour, then strain again, and add 2 cups of milk and a grating of nutmeg, and 1 tablespoon of browned butter, and reheat to boiling point.
CREAM OF CELERY
Wash and scrape and cut into half-inch pieces what will make 1 cup of celery; put it into 1 quart of boiling salted water and cook for nearly an hour or until very soft, then mash it in the water in which it was boiled. Put 1 teaspoon of chopped onion, 2 bay leaves, some mace, and 2 cloves into 2 cups of milk, let simmer for ten minutes, and add it to the celery pulp. Now press through a sieve and return to the double boiler in which the milk was cooked. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter and blend it with 1 tablespoon of flour until smooth, and stir it into the boiling soup; then season with salt and pepper. Boil five minutes and strain into a hot tureen in which a pat of butter and 1 tablespoon of whipped cream have been put. The addition of 1 tablespoon of chopped chives is an improvement to the appearance and taste, or parsley may be used if preferred.
CREAM OF CHESTNUT
Shell and blanch and cut in quarters 2 cups (1 pound) of Italian chestnuts and cover them with 2 cups of boiling water. Add 1 slice of onion (or a drop of onion juice extract), ¼ cup of chopped celery (or 1 teaspoon celery seed), 1 bay leaf, 1 sprig of parsley, and 1 saltspoon of paprika. Cover and boil until the chestnuts are tender,—about half an hour. Then grind in a mortar, or press through a colander or vegetable mill, and add 1 quart (4 cups) of milk, and 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 of flour rubbed together, and cook for three minutes; then add 1 teaspoon of salt, and press all through a fine sieve and reheat before serving.
CREAM OF CORN
Put 1 quart of milk and 1 can of corn in a double boiler and let boil; mix 1 teaspoon of butter and 1 of cornstarch or potato-flour together, and add to the corn; season with salt and pepper, and stir for one minute; then press through a sieve and add 1 tablespoon of minced green peppers.
COCKIE-LEEKIE
Put 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, and when melted stir in, a spoonful at a time, 1 cup of pearl barley, taking ten minutes to add it all; then cover with 8 cups of carrot or onion broth (or use water), and add 2 bay leaves, 1 onion with 4 cloves stuck in it, a bouquet of herbs and parsley, 1 stalk of celery, and let simmer for one hour and a half, then strain, reserving some of the barley. Prepare leeks by washing and cutting into 2-inch lengths (using some of the green), and slicing lengthwise, and add them to the soup; put in the barley, and let cook twenty-five minutes and season with salt and pepper.
CREOLE SOUP
Put 1 can of tomatoes, 1 quart of water or vegetable stock, 1 sliced onion, and 1 small sliced carrot, and 1 chopped green pepper together in a saucepan, and let cook for half an hour, then rub through a fine strainer. Return the strained mixture to the double boiler and put in 2 scant tablespoons of boiled rice, 1 teaspoon of salt, ⅛ teaspoon paprika, 1 tablespoon of sugar. Cream 2 tablespoons of butter with 1 tablespoon of flour, and stir into the soup; let boil up once and serve.
CREAM OF CURRY
Put 1 quart (or 4 cups) of milk in a double boiler with 1 onion with 4 cloves stuck in it, and when hot thicken it with 1 tablespoon of thickening flour rubbed smooth with 1 tablespoon of butter; add 2 tablespoons of boiled rice, and 1 hard-boiled egg chopped fine, and 2 teaspoons (more if liked) of curry powder or paste. Remove the onion and serve with croutons. One tablespoon of chopped chives or pimentos is an addition to the soup.
FLORENTINE SOUP
Melt 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, and put into it ¾ of a cup of finely chopped onions and stir over a moderate heat about five minutes and then add 2 full cups of very thinly sliced turnips; stir these with the onions for another five minutes and then add 2 tablespoons of flour and gradually add 2 pints of boiled milk mixing all well together; watch it till it boils and then let simmer gently, stirring frequently during twenty minutes or half an hour, until the onions are quite soft. Then add 2 more cups of milk, and when this boils add 1 cup of tomato puree (either canned tomato soup or canned tomatoes), or 1½ cups of sliced fresh tomatoes, using a pinch of soda to prevent curdling. Now press the contents of the saucepan through a fine sieve, add a heaping teaspoon of butter, reheat, and serve with croutons and 1 tablespoon of whipped cream.
HEILBRONN SOUP
Take 3 quarts of water in which vegetables have been boiled (preferably onions or leeks) and let simmer. In another enamelled pan put 1 tablespoon of butter; when melted stir in slowly with a wooden spoon ½ cup of barley, adding a little at a time, until butter is well “taken up.” Let it cook for five minutes, stirring constantly, then add (a ladle at a time) 6 or 8 ladles of the hot stock, putting in this amount during ten minutes of stirring. Add ½ the remaining stock, and salt, pepper, and some nutmeg, and let simmer twenty minutes; then the remaining stock and simmer another one-half hour. Peel ¼ pound mushrooms and cut in 4 or 6 pieces each; fry them in butter for five minutes, and add to soup ten minutes before serving and season afresh.
JULIENNE SOUP
Strain any clear vegetable soup, and to each 2 cups of broth add ½ cup of dried “Julienne;” season with salt and pepper and 1 tablespoon of browned butter.
RED LENTIL SOUP
Soak 2 cups of Egyptian lentils in water for eight or ten hours, then drain and shake dry. Put 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan and when melted add ⅓ of the lentils and stir well with a flat-ended wooden spoon, letting them cook very slowly; then add another third, and after stirring a few moments, add the remainder. Pour on 6 cups of cooled water in which leeks or onions have boiled, and let simmer for an hour or until the lentils are tender; press through a sieve and return to the fire to reheat. Smooth 1 teaspoon of flour with 1 teaspoon of butter and add to the soup, season with salt and pepper and a dash of nutmeg. Instead of the flour and butter 1 well-beaten egg may be vigorously stirred into the soup after removing it from the fire.
If Egyptian lentils cannot be obtained, canned or dried red kidney beans may be substituted.
CREAM OF LENTIL
Wash 2 cups of Egyptian lentils, then let them soak in 2 quarts of water for twelve hours or more and put them, in this same water, where they will simmer gently over a slow fire. Put 1 tablespoon of butter in a frying pan, and when melted add to it 2 large onions, sliced, 2 carrots and 1 turnip diced, and fry until a delicate brown; add these to the lentils and let cook slowly for about two hours. Press through a sieve, return to the fire, add 2 cups of milk and just before serving, 1 tablespoon of whipped cream, and season with salt and pepper.
HUNGARIAN SOUP
Put 1 cup of German lentils in a saucepan with 2 cups of cold water or vegetable stock, and let boil for an hour. If the water is absorbed before the lentils are tender, add a little more. At the end of the hour pour over them 6 cups of hot water or stock.
Put 1 tablespoon of butter in a frying pan, and when melted add 1 small onion chopped fine and 1 tablespoon of flour and 1 clove of garlic. When browned add this to the soup and at the same time put in ½ cup of diced potatoes. Let simmer gently for half an hour, then press through a sieve, return to the fire, season well with salt and pepper, and add 1 tablespoon of lemon juice or reduced vinegar before serving.
PURÉE MONGOLE
Put 1 can of tomatoes in a saucepan and with it 2 cups of strong vegetable broth, 1 stalk of celery, 1 slice of onion, 1 bay leaf, 3 allspice, 3 cloves, salt and pepper, and let cook slowly for half an hour. Pour the liquid through a sieve, pressing with it as much of the tomato as will go, reserving the celery. Return to the saucepan, add 1 tablespoon of reduced vinegar, 1 tablespoon of boiled peas, 1 tablespoon of canned string beans, split in half, and the cooked stalk of celery shredded into thin strips two inches long; let simmer for five minutes, season with salt and pepper, add 1 tablespoon of butter, remove from the fire, and beat vigorously into the soup 1 well-beaten egg.
MUSHROOM BISQUE
Cut up with a silvered knife about 1 cup of fresh mushrooms, wash and drain, toss about in 2 tablespoons of melted butter for ten minutes, then stir in 1 tablespoon of flour made smooth in a little milk, and add 1 quart of milk and let simmer half an hour. Season with salt and paprika, and press through a sieve, reserving half the mushrooms. Add these to the soup, and serve with croutons.
MUSHROOM SOUP
Take ¼ of a pound of fresh mushrooms, ¾ of a cup of small white beans, the rind of half a lemon, 1 Spanish onion in which 5 cloves have been stuck, a small piece of mace, some parsley and thyme, and, after preparing for cooking, let boil for an hour or more in 2 quarts of water; then press all but a few of the mushrooms through a wire strainer, return to the saucepan, add 2 tablespoons of butter, pepper, and salt, ½ teaspoon of soup browning, and, after cutting them in several pieces, add the reserved mushrooms and serve.
MUSHROOM STEW
Select mushrooms that are white and firm and small, wash them carefully one at a time with the hands, and put 1 heaping cup of them into 4 cups of milk and let heat, without boiling, for 15 minutes. Then add 1 tablespoon of butter, plenty of salt and pepper, and serve in a hot tureen with crisp crackers.
NOODLE OR ALPHABET SOUP
Strain any one of the vegetable soups for stock, add ½ cup of noodles or “alphabets” fifteen minutes before serving.
CREAM OF ONION SOUP
Chop enough onions to make 4 cups, and put them in a large saucepan with 2 tablespoons of butter and stir them for five minutes; then add 1 small onion with 4 cloves stuck in it, a sprig of parsley, and a bay leaf, cover with 6 or 7 cups of water, add salt and pepper, and let cook gently for three quarters of an hour. Press all through a sieve, and return the liquid to the saucepan; add 1 tablespoon of flour blended with 1 tablespoon of butter, also 2 cups of milk (or half cream), and let boil up once before serving. One tablespoon of chopped chives may be added, also 1 tablespoon of whipped cream.
OKRA SOUP
Cut into small pieces 2 cups (1 can) of okra, use 1 can of green peas, 1 of green corn, 1 cup of shell beans, 2 onions, 1 slice of carrot, 1 slice of turnip, 2 tomatoes, and some celery, or use celery salt. Put 2 tablespoons of butter in a frying pan, and when melted add the chopped onion, carrot, and turnip, and cook ten minutes; then put with the okra, celery and beans into 4 cups of water. Cook for one hour, then add salt and pepper and the tomatoes, corn, peas, and celery, and simmer for half an hour. Do not strain to serve, but if too thick, thin with stock or water.
ONION SOUP AU FROMAGE
Slice 6 ordinary onions or 3 large Spanish ones, and put in frying pan with 2 heaping tablespoons of butter, and let fry very slowly until the onions are a rich dark brown,—about fifteen minutes; then scrape the contents of the pan into a large marmite, add 1 large tablespoon of butter, some pepper and salt, and nearly fill the casserole with tepid water, or with water in which onions have boiled; cover and let cook slowly half an hour, and then stir in 2 teaspoons of soup browning. Take 4 thick slices of dry rye bread, spread them thickly with grated cheese, and lay these in the soup pot; remove the cover and let cook five minutes more, and serve in the marmite.
NEW GREEN PEA SOUP
Shell half a peck of peas and wash the pods. Put the pods in a large kettle and almost cover with boiling water; let them simmer for half an hour, then strain these out, and put the peas in this water to boil until tender. The length of time this takes depends on the freshness of the peas. Save out 1 cup of the peas and press the remainder, water and all, through a sieve, and add to them 1 pint of milk, then return to the fire. Rub together 1 tablespoon of flour and one of butter and stir into the boiling soup; then add the reserved cup of peas, season with salt and pepper, and serve. If the flavour of mint is liked, put 3 or 4 mint leaves, or 1 teaspoon of chopped mint, into the tureen. If mint is not used add a little chopped parsley.
CREAM OF GREEN PEA SOUP
Put 1 can of peas, 1 chopped onion, and 1 cup of water in a saucepan, and cook twenty minutes. At the same time put 1 quart of milk on the fire in a double boiler. When the milk is hot stir in 1 tablespoon of butter, and as it boils, 1 tablespoon of flour which has been dissolved in a quarter of a cup of milk. Rub the peas through a fine sieve, stir into the milk, season with salt and pepper, add 1 teaspoon of chopped parsley, and serve. Instead of the parsley, chopped mint can be used if the flavour is liked, or 1 or 2 mint leaves laid in the tureen before the soup is poured in give a delicate flavour.
SPLIT GREEN PEA SOUP
Soak 2 cups of peas for twelve hours or more, and then drain and toss them for ten minutes in a saucepan with 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of chopped onion; then add 4 cups of hot water and let cook two hours, and press through a sieve with the water in which they cooked. Add 1 cup of milk and 1 teaspoon of chopped mint (fresh or dried), and 1 tablespoon whipped cream. Season well with salt and pepper.
PRINCESS SOUP
Slice 3 onions and cook in a scant half cup of butter for ten minutes. Add 1 quart of hot milk and cook slowly another ten minutes. Strain into double boiler, thicken with 1 teaspoon of flour dissolved in a little milk, and just before serving add 2 teaspoons of finely chopped canned pimentos, and salt and pepper. Add 1 tablespoon of cream in serving.
POTATO SOUP
Wash 6 to 9 potatoes and put them in boiling water and boil them from twenty minutes to half an hour, the time depending on their size. Use 1 large onion quartered, with cloves stuck in it, and 2 pieces of celery (or ¼ teaspoon of celery salt or celery seed), some mace, 1 bay leaf, and 6 peppercorns, and put in a double boiler with 1 quart of milk, from which reserve 1 small half cup. Mix 1 tablespoon of flour with the reserved milk, and stir slowly into the milk when it boils, and let cook ten minutes longer. When the potatoes are done pour off the water, peel them and mash until light, then add to the boiling milk, stir well, season with salt and pepper, and rub all through a sieve. Return to double boiler, add 1 tablespoon of butter, 1 teaspoon of minced parsley, boil up once, and serve.
GERMAN POTATO SOUP
The German potato soup is made by rubbing 6 or 8 well-boiled potatoes through a sieve together with enough of the water in which they were cooked to make sufficient soup, and adding 1 tablespoon of chopped chives (or shallot or onion), 1 teaspoon of chopped parsley, ½ cup of sour cream containing a little lemon juice, or, instead of sour cream, 1 tablespoon of reduced vinegar can be used, with ½ cup of fresh cream. Let simmer for fifteen minutes and serve very hot with croutons.
POTATO SOUP FLORA
Put 1 tablespoon of butter in a saucepan, and when melted add 1 large onion chopped fine, stir until browned, then add 3 cups of thinly sliced potatoes and 6 cups of cold water; when the potatoes are cooked to a mush press them through a sieve, add a small piece of butter, pepper, and salt, and 1 teaspoon finely chopped parsley.
CREAM OF RICE SOUP
Put ½ cup of rice into 1½ pints of boiling water, and add 2 onions into which 4 cloves are pressed, a piece of celery (or ¼ teaspoon celery seed), one bay leaf, 1 sprig of parsley, 4 peppercorns, and a bit of mace. Let simmer gently for one hour, then turn the soup into a large bowl, pouring it through a fine sieve, and pressing as much through the sieve as possible. Return the contents of the bowl to the saucepan and add 1 pint of milk, 1 teaspoon of salt, 1 tablespoon of butter, and 1 scant tablespoon of flour dissolved in a little milk. Add 1 tablespoon of chopped Spanish pimentos, 1 teaspoon finely chopped chives, let simmer five minutes, add 1 tablespoon of whipped cream, and serve.