GARLIC TOAST
On rare occasions she liked to cut a section of garlic over a piece of bread, butter it and then toast it. The children didn’t care for it. It gives pleasure to the sophisticated eater, particularly when alone.
TOAST
Sometimes she liked DRY TOAST. The bread is cut thin and turned over several times during the toasting, then stood upright against a support to evaporate thoroughly. That is the time to butter it, so that the butter is not absorbed, or to eat it dry and crisp.
At other times she chose BUTTERED TOAST. The bread is cut thick, toasted at the highest heat, both sides, turning once only, to brown the surface and leave the middle soft. It is buttered while it is hot so that the butter soaks into it, and eaten at once.
When the toast is to be covered with a savoury, the flavour of margarine is overcome, so one can save the butter. “Though the present-day margarine is quite tolerable,” she told herself, as she thought of the variety of things with which she might, on other occasions, cover her morning toast to make her breakfast snack, such as:
Poached egg Fish paste
Scrambled egg Meat paste
Sliced cheese Tinned meat
Sliced boiled ham Sliced tomato
Sliced grilled bacon Sliced cucumber
Flaked fish Pickled gherkins
or marmalade, which is surprisingly pleasant, put under the toaster-griller, as are all the other things, to become hot.
“I’ll clean my house before I shop,” she told herself, gathering up her dishes. “Who wants to shop first thing? Not I. There’ll be plenty left by the time my work is done and I’m washed and properly dressed.”
Since she wasn’t tied to any time-table for all these hours she could eat when she chose and, as only her own tastes were to be thought of, what she chose. She could try out many of those herby, spicy dishes which the children might learn to love later.
She already had little glass jars containing ground coriander, mace, ginger, nutmeg and a pepper mill for allspice berries. She had celery seeds and fennel seeds, and dried basil, sage, mint, marjoram, bay leaves and cloves, as well as garlic. So she could experiment quite a lot with varying savours.
Also, she liked to try different kinds of cheese—Brie, Camembert (half boxes), Blue Vein, Gruyère, Dutch red, the Swiss cream cheese, the English lactic cheese—the Cheddar, Stilton and the Wensleydale—the strong and the mild, the milk and the cream, the processed without rind and the hardened Parmesan which she grated herself when she felt vigorous, to shake on soup as a condiment.
At times, held irresistibly by the intriguing names in the delicatessen shop which she passed, she would buy European garlic salami—a few ounces sliced thin as paper—or the Irish one tasting like the best ham compressed into this firm roly shape. Olives, black and green, anchovies, sweet-sour gherkins, black bread, tinned tomato paste, whole pimientos! All these fascinating things she liked to try, once in a while, alone. The children were inclined to reject them. The flavours were rather strong for their unspoiled (or undeveloped) palates, so she felt free to adventure with these things while they were at school.
Some days she would take her midday meal as late as 4 o’clock, and was newly fortified for the onrush of the children’s arrival home, clamorously ravenous.
Yesterday, for instance, she had prepared for them a stew of lamb, and had taken her own portion out and eaten it in peace. She was then free to ladle out their portions, for which they each brought their plates in to the kitchen to be filled.
She followed this recipe, with occasional variations.
STEWED LAMB
A few pounds of the best end of the neck of lamb will provide a lot of succulent bones and such tender meat. The whole piece may be put into a large saucepan over moderate heat to allow the fat to melt somewhat while the vegetables are being scrubbed scrupulously in cold water—carrots and celery (the outer stalks cut across the grain)—the turnips or swedes and onions, peeled and sliced, as well as some tomatoes and possibly a cupful of lentils. All these will cook in the pot with the lamb, and although they will be overcooked and thereby lose some of their flavour it will have gone into the meat and the water. A pint of liquid should be enough, water or stock with tomato juice or apple juice and a spoonful of vinegar. The milder herbs such as marjoram or lemon thyme are best with lamb, or a pinch of thyme and one torn bay leaf.
When it comes to the boil, with a close lid on, it is turned to a simmer and the meat should be tender within an hour and a half.
MUTTON BROTH
Mutton, though leaner, is tougher than lamb and needs two hours to soften by stewing. Barley (soaked overnight) also takes about two hours of simmering to soften, so it is a suitable cereal to put in with mutton to make a nourishing broth.
Since there were so many occasions when it was impossible to gauge exactly how much the children would eat of what she had cooked for them, there was usually what they called “ends”, the last of the dish, uneaten.
To avoid what might be a sorry sight on a large dish, she learned to put the remainder on to a small, fireproof dish, so that it could be dressed, ready to re-heat without unnecessary washing-up.
POTATO—AU GRATIN
Whatever boiled potato was left she liked to rub over a grater. This made it light and fluffy, easy to toast under the grill, with or without butter. Sometimes she scattered on it a grating of cheese as well.
FISH—AU GRATIN
Any white fish, flaked away from the bones and skinned while it was warm could be heated with butter, first over and then under the grill. A grating of potato over it before the grilling kept it from drying up. A covering of grated cheese over that, and grilled a golden brown, made a perfect meal with sliced tomato or gherkins around it.
MEAT—AU GRATIN
Any cooked meat, minced, needs a little onion or other savour to make it palatable the second time, she thought. The onion need not be cooked, provided it is chopped finely enough (but not grated which makes it mushy) before mixing with the meat. A tomato, finely sliced, moistens the meat, and it is kept so if potato is spread over it before the grilling.
COLD FISH
She was astonished to find how pleasant cold herring is, and cold plaice she grew to like more and more. (See p. 54.)
FRIED LOBSTER WITH RICE
Once when there was a portion of fresh lobster left she decided to make herself this delicious dish which she once had enjoyed at a very expensive restaurant.
She cooked half a cup of rice in a cupful of water and a little salt for twenty minutes (see page 39), and drew it to one side while she used a fireproof plate to fry the lobster very gently in a little butter, turning it over and over until it was hot right through. Giving it a shake of salt and cayenne pepper, she covered the lobster with the hot rice and turned on the grill. Next she cut over the rice several slices of the ripe cream cheese she had chosen, dotted it with capers and put it under the hot grill until the cheese was well melted and becoming brown. Meantime she cut up some watercress, sliced a fresh tomato and arranged it around the dish, which she bore to her dining-table in triumph. She ate it with such pleasure that she almost felt guilty the children were not there to share it.
She would make them something which they especially liked that very evening, to give them pleasure, too.
SAVOURY RICE WITH CHEESE
When there was a surplus portion of rice, she liked to mix it with a chopped raw onion and fry it gently in a knob of dripping. Adding some sliced olives and a topping of cream cheese or grated hard cheese, it was made golden brown under the grill.
RICE IN SOUP
The last spoonful of rice which hadn’t been eaten at a meal she liked to put into a bowl of soup which she was going to eat that day. If the rice had gone dry (and it must be left uncovered to become dry or it will go sour) it had to be made soft again in the soup by letting it soak in it awhile, with a final simmer to make it hot.
THICKENING SOUPS
In fact, any
thickening for soups should be done the day they are going to be used, because oatmeal, semolina (sprinkled in while the soup is fast boiling), noodles or any other of the macaroni shapes, rice or flour will go sour if kept more than a day once they are made wet.
So, when she made herself a portion of soup, taking the meat or vegetable juices from the large pot of broth or stew she was cooking for the children, she thickened just enough for herself. (See p. 125 for Roux).
She found that soups were strengthening and therefore reviving. Often a good bowl of soup with some bread would keep her going for quite a time when she was really in too great a hurry to stop for long, especially as a larger meal required a period of rest after it to digest it properly.
CREAM OF MUSHROOM SOUP
When there were mushrooms left over, in which case they would probably be already fried in butter, it simply meant chopping them small for the soup, which was thickened in this way.
A spoonful of cornflour is mixed to a paste with a small drop of cold water in a saucepan. When all the lumps are smoothed out, more water may be added, but preferably vegetable stock. After mixing that, a cup of milk is then added with pepper, salt and the chopped, buttery mushrooms. When it boils (it must be stirred fast all the time) the flour will thicken at once, and in a minute after that it will be ready.
Chopped watercress added at the last is particularly nice with mushroom soup.
CREAM OF CELERY, ARTICHOKE, ONION AND POTATO SOUPS
Alternatively a cream soup may be made from a WHITE ROUX base. Allow about a dessertspoonful of cornflour or plain flour to a pint of liquid. (Half pint for sauces.)
The flour is put into a saucepan containing an ounce of melted butter (margarine) or white dripping. It will sizzle, but it should be taken from the heat before it changes colour. When it is cold, just enough cold milk is stirred in to make a smooth paste. The rest of the milk is added gradually and brought to the boil over moderate heat, stirring all the time. In a minute after that it will thicken.
That is the time to mix into it any of the above white vegetables—cooked soft and rubbed through a sieve with a wooden spoon or the bottom of a basin—as well as pepper and salt.
CREAM OF TOMATO
This must be made with a white roux as above, but with vegetable stock or water and sieved tomatoes. The milk or cream, which would curdle if boiled with tomato, must be added at the last, or to the plate of hot soup to cool it.
MEAT SOUP
This seems to demand a brown colour to match the flavour. A BROWN ROUX base must be carefully done, but it is simple. A spoonful of flour is put into a hot saucepan containing melted dripping. The flour will sizzle and become fried brown in a minute, so it must be taken from the heat as it does it. A drop of hot water may be added to it if it is still hot, but if the flour has become cold, cold water only may be added—just a drop to mix it to a smooth paste before adding more liquid—hot to hot, or cold to cold—mixing it smooth before bringing it to the boil.
For meat soup the liquid must be meat juices or water mixed with potted meat extract, and, if possible, some small bits of meat. There may be the remains of a tin of meat, or the last of a joint of beef or mutton. This has to be simmered, immersed in water or stock, for hours to release the meat from the bones and extract the marrow from the bones themselves.
Any remains of cooked root vegetables enrich a meat soup, especially when cut in tiny dice, or grated in over a coarse grater. Some finely chopped parsley or celery leaves is good with this, mixed in at the very last.
FRANKFÜRTER EGG
If there was just one remaining sausage, she augmented it by improvising a kind of omelette. Or she might buy a pair of the smoky Franükfrter sausages, and cut them in slices, slantwise.
With a little lump of lard in the hot frying-pan, she would break in an egg, move it around with a fork to break it up, then drop in the sausage slices, covering the pan with a plate. In a very few minutes the sausages would be heated through and the egg set. The covering plate from which she would eat being also hot, it was all very orderly and quick.
TINNED FRUIT
She always found it cold comfort to eat what was left over from a tin of fruit. But if it were made hot its character was changed for the better.
It seemed to need more sugar even if it were a sweet fruit, so with a spoonful over it, sometimes with a little jam over the top, it was made hot all through in a covered dish. Cooking it a little longer with the lid off to let the surplus moisture evaporate, it attained a syrupy effect and a richer flavour. A little cream and a sweet wafer biscuit made it perfect.
FOOLS
When there was a small portion of stewed fruit left over she sieved it, making a purée. Mixing this with a little extra sugar or honey in a sundae cup, she stirred into it a large spoonful of cream or evaporated milk and left it to become stone cold. For a yet undiscovered reason she, like everyone else, called these dishes, “fools”—BLACKCURRANT, GOOSEBERRY, RHUBARB, APPLE, PLUM.
Sometimes she made the remaining fruit into a jelly (recipe, page 79).
FRUIT WITH MEAT
Any of the sharper fruits such as pineapple, apples, plums or gooseberries she liked to slice, especially if they were uncooked, and arrange them around a little meat dish which she was re-heating by frying or grilling.
FRUIT IN VEGETABLE SALADS
She discovered how pleasant sliced apple, orange, banana and gooseberries are in a salad with chopped onion and lettuce heart. She liked mayonnaise on it, and when she was making cakes and had a use for an extra white of an egg, she made herself mayonnaise from the yolk. She kept it from drying up by pouring on it in its shell a tiny drop of salad oil.
MAYONNAISE FOR ONE
The egg yolk is put into a small basin or large cup (to save waste) with its own measure of cream. Evaporated milk is good for this. A half-level teaspoonful each of salt, dry mustard and sugar are mixed in well with a fork, and a good shake of pepper. Drop by drop a dessertspoonful of warm olive oil is mixed in thoroughly, and, lastly, a tablespoonful of vinegar.
On different occasions she gave the mayonnaise colour and a new character by adding a few sliced olives; a little piece of pimiento chopped; a few capers; a clove of garlic crushed; or some green pea purée with chopped watercress.
Mayonnaise will keep for several days, but it should be covered tightly to keep it fluid.
TEA FOR ONE
“Now”, she said, “I’ll make myself a cup of tea.”
There were several colourful tins containing different kinds of tea—Indian, China, Ceylon, Darjeeling, the smoky Lap Sang Soo Chong, Orange Pekoe, Earl Grey’s perfumed with dried blossoms—all tightly closed to prevent loss of aroma by letting in the air. She liked to infuse a different one each day. It was interesting and kept her palate aware.
She didn’t always want to make a pot of tea, but only one cup, and she saved herself a lot of bother by making it this way. Having put the kettle on and chosen the tea she wanted, she stood the jug containing a small amount of milk in a bowl of hot water. Stone-cold milk spoiled the tea, and hot milk made it skimmy.
When the kettle was nearly boiling she poured some of the water into her empty teacup, in which she had placed a deep tea-strainer, to make both hot. When the kettle was boiling and the steam pouring out steadily, she threw the water in the cup away, put a heaped teaspoonful of tea in the strainer, then poured boiling water on it to fill the cup, covering it with a saucer. In three minutes she lifted off the saucer and the strainer, and the tea was ready for the warm milk.
As she sipped, she reflected on the reluctance she often felt to eat at all. She recalled the days when she was too busy to think; when she worked until she felt like dropping, forgetful until that moment that she had scarcely eaten all day. “There are people in prison camps who are made to work without food. I’m behaving at such times like a captive with a cruel taskmaster. And I have no taskmaster, except Time. And what will Time do for me? Only give me wrinkles and saggin
g cheeks!
“So if I’m not a captive, and not a nun under a vow of abstinence, then why don’t I give myself the pleasure of eating? Silence and solitude are imposed on me for many hours each day, but I needn’t starve. I’m not poor. And yet there are days when I do! And I’m not the only one…. I must be a little cracked.
“But if I were expecting someone for lunch, or tea, I’d soon hustle myself and get something I know they’d enjoy. And I’d enjoy it, too. I always do when there’s the incentive.
“Supposing then … let me imagine that someone is coming at midday, or at two or three, and that they will say they have not yet had their meal. Let me look in my cupboard, in the pantry and in the refrigerator, and see what is there. Then I’ll imagine what I’d make, and write out a little menu.
“Why shouldn’t I eat that menu? The things on it…? I’ll begin now; and turn over a new leaf.”
INDEX
Almond cream mousse, 1 Biscuits, 1
Aluminium, Burnishing, 1
Apple, and Cheese, 1 Crumble, 1
Fool, 1
Fried, 1
Stewed, 1
Apricot, Fried, 1
Artichoke Soup, 1
Aspic Jelly, 1
Cooking Alone Page 9