“But what if you had had the forethought to prepare it in advance?” asked her friend.
And it was that idea which exorcized that inhibition. When she was fed and rested, and gossiping perhaps, she sifted eight ounces of flour with a teaspoonful of salt, and sifted it again into a basin. Taking four ounces of margarine which had become very hard on her stone floor slab, she grated it into the flour, mixing it lightly with a fork until it was well blended and crumbly.
She scooped this into an earthenware crock and covered it with paper gripped with an elastic band and left it on the cold stone. This was the basic mixture to be made into SHORTCRUST, and it would keep fresh for a week.
PASTRY CASES
Another evening she would make the pastry. Taking out about four ounces of the dry pastry mixture, she mixed in a spoonful of sugar and just enough cold water to make a stiff dough, which she then rolled out on a floured board, beginning at the centre and rolling outwards, just once.
Cutting rings with a floured pastry cutter, she fitted them into lightly greased and floured patty tins which she put into the oven at 400° F. (Gas No. 6) to be baked light yellow in about fifteen minutes. As some were to be rebaked on a future occasion on no account were those left to become brown.
Inverting the baked pastry cases on a grill to evaporate, they could be stored when cold, one inside the other in a tin.
FRUIT TARTS
In this way she could fill a pastry case with some stewed fruit, top it with cream (if any) and she had a cold sweet course in half a minute.
If her oven was in use, she could re-heat the pastry with its filling—apple, pear, plum, blackcurrant—stewed in advance, or jam if there were no fruit ready.
She might want to have the tart made hot even though the oven was not lit. In that case she filled the pastry case, or two, set them in a saucepan over moderate heat with the lid on and when they were hot right through they tasted as if they were freshly cooked.
*
She was rather pleased with the way in which she had managed her career and her domestic interests. “Soon”, she said, stretching out in her arm-chair and lighting a cigarette, “I shall adventure into a little entertaining. That will be the time when I shall have to be quite resolute about the washing up last thing at night. Nothing would stultify me more than having to clear the kitchen before making my breakfast. It has been easy enough up to now while I have been feeding quite alone.”
VIII
THE CONVALESCENT
“If only someone would bring me some delicious titbit while I loll in bed. But they won’t. At eleven on the dot Mrs. Thing will come, and she’ll talk. But she’ll never think I have a stomach as well as an ear. I’ll faint if I stay without food much longer. Even if I could cook, I can’t shop. What shall I do …? If I go into the kitchen I shall begin sneezing again. Oh dear.”
Presently the rattle and clang of the milk bottles proclaimed their arrival. “Ah!” she said. “At least I can drink fresh milk.” And, wrapping herself around with a woollen dressing-gown, she brought in the milk, poured out a glassful at once and drank it. “That’s better! And how easy!”
She opened her cupboard to see what food was there, and it was not as bare as she had thought: butter was there, cornflakes, oatflakes, an unopened, wax-paper-wrapped packet of crisp-bread, rice, cheese, eggs, oranges, lemons and dried fruits. Tins, too, but she would leave those while she was convalescing. “Better to have fresh food only,” she thought. “I can begin building up on eggs. I wish I had a high stool so that I could sit as I scramble an egg,” which she did, very simply, in five minutes.
SCRAMBLED EGG
Into a little fireproof dish over moderate heat she put about a tablespoonful of milk, a brazil nut size of butter, a shake of white pepper and salt.
While it was becoming hot, she held an egg against the light to see if any shone through. This is known professionally as candling. If it looks black it is a bad egg. If the light shines through it is good, though it may be stale. It is best to crack it open on a saucer, just in case!
Sliding the egg on the dish, it is then jabbed in the middle to break it up. A bone egg-spoon or a stainless flexible knife will do for the scrambling. It is simply scraped from the dish as it cooks. The uncooked egg falls into its place and, in a few minutes of scraping, or lifting, the egg is cooked. Buttery, creamy-soft, slightly savoury, it is a good beginning to stimulate the gastric juices which indicate a healthy hunger.
APPLE AND CHEESE
Later on she ate an apple with silver-paper-wrapped cream cheese, which keeps fresh for a week or more. A bite of each at a time modifies the sharpest apple, which, of course, is rich in the essential vitamin C.
Mrs. Thing came in later, bringing with her an astounding surprise—a little bottle of rum—“Not that I believe in solitary drinking, my dear, but there’s nothing like egg-flip with rum to set you on your feet.” So, once a day, she made variants of this combination, which made her pleasantly drowsy and relaxed for her afternoon rest. “How nice people are”, she mused, “when one is sick.”
EGG–RUM FLIP
A fresh egg is beaten up with a pinch of salt in a basin until it is frothy. Then it must be strained (through muslin preferably) into a tumbler. A teaspoonful or more of sugar will give it adequate sweetness for most palates. About a dessertspoonful of lime juice gives it a particularly pleasant piquancy which will offset the stickiness of the egg, and when the rum is added the flavour is deepened most satisfyingly. The amount of rum depends on many factors, but a dessertspoonful may be enough.
EGG AND MILK FLIP, WITH RUM
The egg is beaten up with a fork or whisked, but always, for the fastidious palate, the little globules (the potential life) must be strained away.
The milk added to the strained egg may be hot or cold, and a good whisk makes it so nice and light and frothy. Stir in any sugar, and finally, after whisking (not to waste any), the rum is stirred in. The hot milk is sleep-inducing, so it is a good drink to take in bed.
No lemon or lime should be added to any milk drink as it will curdle it.
EGG-MILK-RUM JELLY
A small saucepan and a little dish, a spoon and a fork is all the washing up to be done for this.
A teacupful of cold milk and a dessertspoonful of isinglass are stirred with a fork over gentle heat until the isinglass is melted. While it is hot but not boiling, a level dessertspoonful of sugar is added and, away from the heat, a fresh egg and a teaspoonful of rum. Beat this all up with the fork, pour it into a dish, and leave it in a cold place to set.
Whisking would make the egg thin, whereas the fork beating will leave it thick enough to set.
EGG-MILK JUNKET
This is made exactly like the egg-milk-rum jelly, but finally, when it has cooled to blood heat—warm not hot—(try the fork against the wrist) stir into the milk half a teaspoonful of liquid rennet. Vary the flavouring—almond, banana, rum, raspberry, orange or vanilla. Leave it to clot for ten minutes.
It is important to know that only fresh milk will clot, so never attempt anything else such as condensed or sterilized milk when making junket.
The egg is not necessary for making junket, nor the isinglass which congeals it. But by using isinglass or jelly powder, the watery substance from the milk—the whey—is fixed in it, instead of separating. The rennet (or junket powder) which clots the milk into a junket, sets the egg in ten minutes, so that one need not wait until the jelly sets before eating it. It is the quickest way to make an EGG CUSTARD, and it contains the added nutriment of the isinglass as well as being partly pre-digested by the clotting.
JUNKET
How quick it is to make an ordinary milk junket—enough for twice—with half a pint of milk made warm in a saucepan with a dessertspoonful of sugar. A few drops of flavouring essence and a teaspoonful of liquid rennet are then stirred in for half a minute, but not whisked. It must be poured immediately into the glasses or dishes from which it is to be eaten.
Any freezing must be postponed until after the clotting, which takes about ten minutes. Any decorative morsels such as finely chopped nuts (ground almonds are good), snippets of cherry, angelica or a crystallized violet must also wait for the clotting to take place.
The RENNET, whether in liquid or powder form, does not last indefinitely, but provided the container is kept tightly closed, after using some from it at intervals, it should retain its power for a few months.
EGG-RUM FROTH
As the convalescence proceeds one can spare some energy for egg whisking. The first reward might be this delicacy.
After straining the white out of an egg, whisk it until it is like stiff snow. Mix the yoke and half of the whisked white with a teaspoonful of sugar and another of rum, in a small dish or custard glass. Spoon the rest of the egg froth over it, shake caster sugar over that and leave it in a very cold place—preferably in a refrigerator—to become quite cold before eating it.
EGG CUSTARD
An egg custard will take half an hour to become set, in a basin surrounded by boiling water. Beat up an egg with a pinch of salt and a dessertspoonful of sugar in a small basin, while you bring a third of a pint of milk to the boil. Pour this on to the beaten egg, stir and then mix in the flavouring. Grated lemon rind (not the juice which would curdle the milk), grated orange rind, vanilla, almond—two or three drops only—are especially suitable to egg custard.
Bring about a pint of water to the boil in a saucepan and set the basin of egg custard in it, seeing that the water comes up as high as the custard. Put a saucer on the basin, put a lid on the saucepan, and let it simmer for about half an hour. Test the custard to see that it is quite set, by inserting a knife right through. If the knife comes away clean, it is cooked. Take the saucer from the top so that the cooling steam will not fall in drops of water over the custard and so spoil it. If the water around boils fast, the custard will become bubbly and hard.
CRÊME CARAMEL
The same quantities will make two or three mounds of crême caramel. Mix one egg with a pinch of salt and a dessertspoonful of sugar while a third of a pint of milk is brought just to the boil. But in this case use evaporated milk, or, preferably thin cream. Pour it on to the egg and stir, adding the flavouring. Pour this into little moulds, cover each with a lid—possibly a tin lid or a covering of tinfoil—set them in a saucepan of boiling water, as before, covering that with a plate or lid. These custards, being smaller, should set in about twenty minutes or less.
THE CARAMEL is made like this. A spoonful of sugar is put on a cooking plate over moderate heat. Move the sugar around with a wooden spoon or flexible knife until it is quite melted. At that moment it may begin to burn almost at once, so watch it carefully. Just as it is beginning to darken, add a teaspoonful of water, draw it from the heat and mix it quickly.
The cooked egg custards are loosened from their cups (or moulds) by running a knife around inside each, then inverted over the caramel which is spooned over the top.
The crême caramels should be eaten immediately, or kept hot until one is ready to eat them. Otherwise leave them to become quite cold.
A busy, provident person who likes this dish very much can make a quantity of this caramel (burnt sugar) at a time with a few ounces of sugar and a tablespoonful of water. Poured into a bottle and tightly corked, this will keep for weeks in good condition.
CHEESE EGG SOUFFLÉ
This is made like an egg custard, which is much easier than the soufflé proper.
A clove of garlic is crushed in a basin, to which is added an egg and half a teaspoonful each of salt and dry mustard with a shake of cayenne pepper. Beat this up while half a pint of milk is brought to the boil, which is at once poured over the egg and stirred. Mix in half a cupful of breadcrumbs and grate into it an ounce or two of cheese.
The basin, covered with a saucer, is put into a saucepan containing boiling water, and, with the lid on, it is left to simmer until the soufflé is set.
To save bother, use oatflakes instead of breadcrumbs.
POACHED EGG WITH CHEESE
This requires almost no mental effort to do. A fireproof saucer-plate is put over a low heat. Put in it a pat of butter, a spoonful of milk, some pepper and salt. When it is hot, slide the egg in; slice cream cheese over the top and cover it with a saucer.
In three to six minutes—depending upon whether one likes the white of the egg transparent or opaque—the egg will be set and the cheese melted. It is then ready to eat from its cooking plate.
FRESH FROZEN VEGETABLES
“Now is the time for a little steamed fish, plaice, turbot, smoked haddock with a poached egg on it, and some fresh, green vegetables. But if I can (and I will) go shopping—just a little journey—I can buy some FRESH FROZEN VEGETABLES. I like best the spinach and the garden peas.”
These, in fact, need no preparation and almost no cooking. Taken out of their packet, they can be put straight into an open saucepan over the gentlest heat to let the ice thaw out of them, or simply left until that happens. Salted and peppered (a teaspoonful of sugar and a pinch of dried mint for the peas perhaps) and with a lump of butter added, they need only be heated right through over moderate heat. They are then ready to eat and they are always delicious.
FRESH FROZEN FRUITS
“To-morrow”, she said, “I’ll buy some FRESH FROZEN RASPBERRIES and let them thaw, and I’ll eat them sprinkled with caster sugar and a great blob of cream on them. And the day after that I’ll buy the BLACKCURRANTS and I might make a tart. And by that time I shall be convalescent no longer.
“But what I am forgetting, of course, is that I shall not eat the whole packet of raspberries at once. And once they are thawed they cannot be re-frozen. Therefore I shall put them in a glass jar—a wide one—with a screw top, pour castor sugar over them and a dessertspoonful of brandy, and screw the top down.
“Thank goodness one can buy the tiny sample bottles of spirits and liqueurs. One can have variety with these little extravagances without being involved in financial commitments or the storage problem. When I’m well off and have a huge apartment it will be different.”
BRANDY CHERRIES
“I’ll get a wee nip of the cherry brandy, too, for the frozen cherries, and one to keep until the fresh cherries come in. I’ll halve them—the large, black ones, and pot them for a few days with a spoonful of cherry brandy.”
COINTREAU ORANGES
“I’ll pot orange slices with cointreau, too. And a little sugar to give them the sweetness they need.”
KIRSCH STRAWBERRIES
“There’s nothing like kirsch with fresh strawberries. Mixed with the cream or with the fruit. I could mix it with the thawed strawberries after pouring the water off. I’ll get a packet right away. And a sample of kirsch. How easy it is to be experimental, even with limited resources and though quite alone.”
MILKY TEA
“Supposing, for instance, I make myself some milky tea? Why shouldn’t I infuse it with boiling milk instead of water? It will do me more good….” And thereupon she made the teapot very hot, put into it a dessertspoonful of tea and poured over that half a pint of boiling milk. Leaving it to stand for three minutes, she gave it a good stir, and strained it into her cup. She enjoyed it a lot. She felt stimulated. It was a success.
MUTTON CHOP
She thought she smelled a mutton chop being cooked. “Ah, … with chopped raw onion on top; it just softens a little while the chop is grilling; and the fat runs off, and the edge of fat is crisp outside and succulent within…. I’ll buy one for myself! Quickly, before that person downstairs makes the whole place reek. She always cooks with a blazing heat…. I’ll take the air. It will freshen me. I think—in fact, I believe—my convalescence is over.”
IX
THE SCHOOLBOY MOOCHER AND THE STUDENT
“Have they really gone?” he called out to his sister.
She, watching out of the window, waved her final good-bye. It was always like that, sayi
ng, “Have a nice time,” and the return for the forgotten umbrella, “Kiss good-bye again”, and another return for keys, for a cheque-book, for an extra wrap. Even if it were only for a day, the commotion was as much as if they were going to America.
“Yes,” she said, “Mother has squeezed herself into the old mobile parlour—she’ll not get out of it now, and Father has slammed the door.”
“Mouse-trap, I call it!” he said. “When I’m of age I’ll have a really smart affair. I’ll run you around sometimes, perhaps.”
“They’re off!” she said. “Get the saucepan out, and the sugar, and the butter, and the milk. Oh, better not use the butter. They’d notice it.”
“We’ll eat Margery on our bread, and smother it with fish paste or something. But we must have butter for the toffee to-day. It’s almost my birthday.”
“Let’s make a lot so that I can take some back to my digs,” she said, thinking of the comfort it was to chew some toffees while she did her solitary evening studies.
So they stood a strong saucepan over moderate heat, put in half a teacupful of water and a pound of sugar, and stirred it with a flat-ended wooden spoon until the sugar was quite dissolved. “Can’t have it gritty,” he said. Next they poured in about a quarter of a pound of golden syrup, a teaspoonful of salt, and nearly two ounces of butter. This was stirred continuously, even after it boiled. When it had been boiling ten minutes, they decided to test it, lifting the stirring spoon out and letting a small drop drop into a cup of cold water.
Cooking Alone Page 7
