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Cooking Alone

Page 3

by Kathleen Le Riche


  Cook the mushrooms separately, and not in the fat from the kidney. The flavour of mushrooms cooked in butter, however small the amount, is well worth the extravagance.

  In fact, nothing is extravagant if it adds to enjoyment. That is, almost nothing. Within reason.

  A walnut size, or two, of butter is enough to cook about four ounces of mushrooms, sliced or not. Keep turning them over until they look dark. If you like, or if you have only spared a small nut of butter, put a lid on after that to soften them more. Put them with the kidney under the grill when it is cooked. Keep a few back for mushrooms-on-toast next day for a mid-morning snack.

  Don’t forget chopped parsley or chives on cooked meat dishes. This is where I score with my window-box. I have it always fresh, in its season.

  MINCED MEAT CASSEROLE

  I make a great fuss of a half pound of minced meat. (I don’t mean mince-meat which is fruit). As the butchers don’t mince the best and therefore tender cuts of meat, the mince has to be stewed. That is the long, slow, moist cooking done in a casserole dish. I use an ordinary saucepan. Over moderate heat the fat runs out of the meat and fries the lean bits. After which I chop into it a large onion, (sometimes a nip of garlic, too), adding slices of whatever root vegetables I may have—turnip, swede or beetroot and a handful of sultanas. A spot of Worcestershire sauce or a glass of sharp red wine takes away the too-sweet flavour of these fruits.

  Sometimes I put in a small spoonful of mixed dried herbs; or celery seeds, a few fennel seeds, a bayleaf, a pinch of sweet basil, thyme or marjoram; also a spoonful of tomato purée, a small sliced apple and a teacupful of stock or water.

  With a good stirabout when it comes to the boil, I clap the lid on the pan, turn the heat to a glimmer and return once every half hour to add a little water if need be, to keep it from burning and to turn it over. This keeps the flavour neat and keeps fluidity to a minimum. It would be unpleasant as a stew I think.

  In an hour and a half or so, it is tender enough for anyone. Larger quantities take longer, I never understand why. I might learn if I were to cook for a party, but then, I wouldn’t present mince.

  LIVER AND BACON WITH ONIONS

  Get the calves’ liver. Don’t be put off with bullock’s liver, which can be hard and sinewy. This is all right to eat in company, diverted by conversation.

  First cut the fat off the bacon, snipping it across the rind. Let it sizzle over moderate heat in the saucepan. Fry the lean bacon in it, then take it out and keep it hot under the grill with gentle heat. Slice an onion, straight into the saucepan. Put the lid on and leave it to cook, turning once or twice, until it becomes light yellow. Take away the lid, push the onions to one side; slide in the sliced liver. Keep turning it gently until it is just brown. It should be cooked in less than ten minutes. Stick a fork in to try, as overcooking will harden it like leather. Slide it all on to the hot plate with the crisp bacon under the grill.

  Raw celery is refreshing to follow this, or a crisply fresh tomato, or an apple.

  FRIED APPLE

  Slice a crisp, sharp cooker with the skin on (to keep its shape) into the saucepan-fry-pan to cook with the liver, the sausage or any other savoury meat. It gives just that pleasant piquancy which “cuts the grease” from the palate.

  Or, cut the apple into chip shapes and grill them with steak or kidney.

  LEMON SPRINKLER

  One can’t keep buying fresh lemons for the sprinkling one needs, and they go mouldy so quickly once they are cut, so get a bottle of the juice with a sprinkler top. They are very cheap, and keep a longish time, as one needs very little for meat, fish, salads or even pancakes.

  FRIED CHICKEN WITH PIMIENTO

  Buy a portion (one limb or two) or half a poussin which is such a tender little thing.

  Forgive yourself if you have to use margarine instead of butter for frying. Rub the portion all over with a clean linen cloth dipped in salt. Sieve some flour all over it to make a coating and prevent it sticking to the pan. Melt about two ounces of “butter” in the saucepan. Use a spoonful of olive oil if you like. When it is hot, turn the heat to moderate and fry the chicken pieces, turning them occasionally with the egg slice.

  If the heat is high the food sticks to the frying pan.

  While it is frying, slice a pimiento (sweet red pepper); discard the seeds and fry the slices with the chicken. The flavour, imparting itself to the chicken, makes it more delicious still.

  FRIED RABBIT WITH AUBERGINE AND PRUNES

  Thank goodness one can also buy portions of rabbit nowadays. I could never eat a whole one. After the second day it gets left on the shelf.

  It needs a little onion I always think. So I slice one into the dripping I fry the rabbit in (after wiping it clean like the chicken, and rolling it in flour—soya preferably—well salted). After ten or fifteen minutes of gentle frying the rabbit should be tender, but keep on until it is. Test it with a fork which should turn easily in the flesh when it is cooked. Just before that, slice an aubergine slant-wise and fry it with the rabbit. Sprinkle a little lemon on it at the last, and put it on a hot plate with plenty of chopped chives, parsley or watercress.

  P.S. It is surprising how pleasant an accompaniment is a soaked prune or apricot, fried with the rabbit.

  RICE, PLAIN

  Usually I cook enough rice for two days. That is, a tea-cupful. Measure this into the saucepan. Let the cold tap rush on to it to send the dust to the top. Pour this off and repeat several times until the rice is clean and well drained. Add to it two measures (teacupfuls) of cold water. Add a teaspoonful of salt. Stir, and set it over moderate heat with the lid on. A transparent one if possible to see when it comes to the boil. When it does, turn the heat to very low. Don’t take the lid off or touch the rice. Just leave it for twenty minutes. By that time all the water will be absorbed, the rice cooked soft and the grains well separated.

  Get this operation under way before the grilling, etc., is started so that all will be ready at the same time.

  Keep what you don’t eat of the rice uncovered or it will go sour.

  Reheat it next day or the day after, by pouring a little water over the dried top. Put on the lid of the saucepan and let it steam over gentle heat. In a few minutes, turn the whole lot upside down with the fish slice, and let it continue steaming. Don’t let the bottom burn, as it will if the heat is high. (See Rice and Savoury Tomato, p. 49.)

  FRIED RICE

  Once the rice is softened it can be fried—again gently—in a little dripping or margarine. Keep turning it over so that it doesn’t stick. In fact I put it around the meat I am grilling so that it becomes saturated with the escaping juices. Thereby all flavours are conserved. When I do this I don’t fry bread or grill it with the meat. Enough starch is enough, I say.

  RICE PUDDING

  Rice pudding takes hours, which I rather like. I can potter in and out with good reason. But I make it quickly when I have some cooked plain rice from the previous day. I stir into the saucepan of cooked rice about one third of a tin of sweetened full-cream condensed milk, with half a teacupful of water. Stirring it well, and putting the lid on, it can be left over gentle heat until the milk is absorbed.

  Make a nourishing dish of it by beating up an egg on to the fireproof dish, then mixing in the warmed, sweetened, milky rice. Leave it on the hob for a few minutes to heat, then under the grill to get a golden-brown top. I like a shake of nutmeg over this and a knob of butter to soak in, hot. But others may not like nutmeg.

  Try a spoonful of apple or bramble jelly with it instead.

  NOODLES WITH CHEESE

  This is an easy and economical dish which I inevitably make when I have let some cheddar cheese go hard.

  One handful of noodles is enough. Cover them in the saucepan with cold water. Put in a teaspoonful of salt, and bring all to the boil with the lid off. Let it boil fast for ten minutes or so, when the noodles should be really soft.

  Grate a few ounces of cheese while they are boiling. Lift
them out with a fork and the egg-slice and put them on a buttered grilling-plate. Shake the cheese over the noodles; add a knob of margarine and let it brown under the grill.

  If there are any colourful things at hand, like fresh or tinned tomatoes, pimientos or gherkins, slice them and put them around the dish under the grill. Chop lots of parsley or nasturtium leaves to shake over, making a ring around the plate. This delights my eye which must always be appeased before I can eat with enjoyment.

  NOODLES WITH MEAT AND MUSHROOMS

  Once the noodles are cooked (keep the water in which they were boiled for soup), they can be dressed with a number of savoury things. Keep them simmering while the meat, etc., is being prepared.

  Cut up and fry some mushrooms in a knob of butter on a fireproof plate. Slice some cooked, tinned meat, or liver sausage and put it in with the cooked mushrooms. When all have become hot right through, push them to one side; lift out the noodles on to the hot plate and pile over them the meat and mushrooms.

  HOT PLATES

  Always remember that a good meal can be utterly ruined if put on to a stone-cold plate. So if you use a china plate, make it hot under a moderate grill or stand it in hot water.

  POTATOES

  BOILED. My rule is always to boil them in their jackets. Boil enough for two or three days, and spread them out to dry. Like other starchy and glutinous foods they will go sour if left around in a damp condition.

  Twenty minutes of fast boiling is enough in a cupful of water for the new ones.

  Forty minutes, starting from cold water, will be needed at least for old ones. Stick a knife through to test when they are done. They should be simmered only, once they have been brought to the boil.

  Skin them while they are hot—those you want to eat at once—by holding each on a fork. The skin pulls away easily with a sharp pointed knife with which the eyes can be turned out.

  MASHED. Mash boiled potatoes over moderate heat (not when they’re cold) with a lump of margarine, salt and pepper and a splash of milk. Use a fork, and when the mash is smooth, put it on the grilling-plate with the meat. Leave it under the grill for some minutes to become brown if you like it that way. You might spread grated cheese over it, roughening the top with a fork to give it that pleasant, uneven crisp effect, known as gratinée.

  Mix a fresh egg with the potato as you mash it, using less milk in that case to soften it, to make it really creamy and nourishing.

  SAUTÉ. Skin the boiled potatoes and slice them into a frying-pan or plate containing hot dripping or butter. Keep turning them over until they are hot right through, or even until they become brown if you prefer. In either case, do mix in some finely chopped green thing—watercress, or mustard and cress—even a teaspoonful brightens the whole aspect.

  GRILLED. Put sliced boiled potatoes on a buttered fireproof dish and leave them under the grill to become brown, turning them once.

  CHIPS. Cut the boiled potatoes into chip shapes and grill them as described above. Uncooked potatoes are done in the same way, only they take longer—up to half an hour—and they must be turned occasionally. This is my way of cooking chips in my limited space, the atomsphere of which becomes overwhelming if I fry in deep fat, which is the conventional way of chip making.

  The potatoes may be grilled without fat, which is a good thing to know if one is on a diet of austerity.

  ROOT VEGETABLES

  After peeling these, cut them up into small pieces. They are cooked more quickly so, in a cupful of boiling water. As they may take as long as twenty minutes to soften, you may need to add a little more water as it evaporates. Lift them out of their cooking water and put them in the juice of the meat around it, under the grill.

  SWEDE MASHED WITH BACON

  If I’ve grilled some bacon, nothing suits it so well (I think) as cooked swede, mashed in the bacon fat with a nut of vegetable extract.

  BUTTERED ONION

  When I have some white fish, I like to eat with it, or separately, a dish of boiled onion, which I chop finely before cooking it. I like to drain it, mix it with a little pepper, salt and butter and keep it hot under the grill around the fish, with a grating of cheese on top.

  CHICORY AND SEAKALE IN LEMON BUTTER

  These white stalk vegetables I sometimes like to have with white fish, or just by themselves, like asparagus. After cooking them soft in the minimum of water, I put them on a hot grilling plate with a lump of butter, some pepper, salt and a spoonful of lemon juice. I put it over the heat or under the grill for just the amount of time it takes to melt the butter.

  SWEET CORN

  All I ask to dip this into, when I eat it from the cone, is seasoned butter, very hot, on a hot dish. The cone is simmered in the minimum of water and it may take fifteen minutes or so to soften.

  RUSSIAN SALAD

  Any of the cooked root vegetables will do for assembling a Russian salad. Cut them into dice; find some cooked peas—tinned, or the frozen ones thawed, are excellent—and chop up a small onion, possibly also a clove of garlic. Take a forkful of mayonnaise and mix all together and rub a leaf of dried mint over it. Sometimes I like it hot, sometimes stone cold.

  CHOPPING ONIONS

  There is rarely any necessity to handle food. The deft manipulation of a knife, fork and spoon can avert such transference of flavours. The onion, for instance, need not intrude. Cut away the root. Stick a fork into where you cut. Cut away the tail (growing) end. Slit the brown skin downwards in three places with the point of the knife and strip it away. Holding the onion firmly on the fork, slash it criss-cross with the knife; then slice across the criss-crosses and watch the chopped onion falling into the salad or the cooking pot.

  GREEN VEGETABLES

  All the green vegetables must be cooked in a small cupful of boiling water. If they are first shredded finely—with a sharp, stainless, serrated knife on a chopping board—they will become tenderly cooked in ten minutes. Keep the lid on the saucepan, and turn them over once to give them oxygen and to see they are not burning at the bottom of the pan. Peas need more water and take twenty minutes.

  In order that their fresh green look doesn’t fade by sad delay, cook them at the very last, just when they are to be eaten. If something is grilling at the same time, lift them clear of their cooking water, let them drain before putting them alongside the meat, the juices from which will be ample sauce or “gravy”. I like a little butter on them as well, with a shake of salt and black pepper.

  CREAMED SPINACH

  Some may think it a bother, but I like making a purée of the spinach. After cooking it quite tender, I rub it through a sieve with a wooden spoon, add salt and pepper, and a spoonful of cream or evaporated milk. Then I reheat it on my fireproof plate, turning it over and over until it is very hot all through. This is essential as it cools quickly, as cabbage does. The velvety texture of creamed spinach is unforgettable. I like it with a thick steak or with the wing of a chicken, hot.

  BRUSSELS SPROUTS

  As so much water is held within these minute cabbages if they are cooked and eaten whole, I prefer to shred them, or at least quarter them before cooking. They become cooked more quickly therefore and remain greener than when they are whole. I like them mixed with a nut of meat or vegetable extract and a lump of margarine, and possibly the inside of a fresh tomato.

  Sometimes I rub them through a sieve, like the spinach, and mix them with cream.

  Sometimes I cover them, after mixing them with a knob of butter, with a masking cheese sauce and brown it under the grill. This makes a satisfactory little meal with some chipolata sausages, pricked and grilled, whole.

  VEGETABLE CUP

  This sounds very grand and mysterious. It’s my health-soup-cocktail. I pour all the juices from my cooked vegetables into my soup cup and drink it at once, before I begin my meal. It is full of mineral salts and of such good flavour. Yes, I take care of myself rather well.

  TOMATO JELLY

  This is refreshing, simple, and looks attractive set
on some pale green, fringe-like leaves of endive.

  A level teaspoonful of powdered gelatine is left in a round mould or cup to swell. After five minutes the cup is stood in a bowl of hot water to let the gelatine dissolve. A teaspoonful of spiced or garlic vinegar and another table-spoonful of water is added (hot if possible) and stirred. When the gelatine is quite dissolved, two tablespoonfuls of tomato purée and a teaspoonful of orange squash are stirred in and it is left to set in a cold place.

  Make it more savoury when you choose by mixing in a few shreds of onion and a pinch of powdered clove or cayenne pepper.

  When it has set firmly—in a few hours maybe—stand the cup in hot water for a moment to release the jelly, and invert it on a plate before lifting off the cup.

  ASPIC JELLY

  By using more vinegar or lemon juice with the gelatine instead of water, a sharper, aspic jelly is made, with or without the tomato purée. When it is just beginning to set, drop into it here and there a few cooked peas, a spoonful of any diced cooked vegetable and chopped parsley. This makes the jelly colourful enough, but, it also encourages one to try setting other oddments in it, such as sliced hard-boiled egg, prawns, strips of cucumber or ham. Ring it around on a plate with crisp watercress or some finely shredded raw brussels sprouts dressed with mayonnaise.

 

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