Cassell's Vegetarian Cookery/rice
Probably all persons will admit that rice is a too much neglected form of food in England. When we remember how small a quantity of rice weekly is found sufficient to keep alive millions and millions of our fellow-creatures in the East, it seems to be a matter of regret that rice as an article of food is not more used by the thousands and thousands of our fellow creatures in the East—not in the ordinary acceptation of the term, but East of Temple Bar. Rice is cheap, nourishing, easily cooked, and equally easily digested, yet that monster, custom, seems to step in and prevent the bulk of the poor availing themselves of this light and nourishing food solely for the reason that, as their grandfathers and grandmothers did not eat rice before them, they do not see any reason why they should, like the Irishman who objected to have his feet washed on the same ground. Of the different kinds of rice Carolina is the best, the largest, and the most expensive. Patna rice is almost as good; the grains are long, small, and white, and it is the best rice for curry. Madras rice is the cheapest.
Rice, pure and simple, is the food most suited for hot climates and where a natural indolence of disposition results in one’s day’s work of an ordinary Englishman being divided among twenty people. As we move towards more temperate zones it will be found the universal custom to qualify it by mixing it with some other substance; thus, though rice is largely eaten in Italy, it is almost invariably used in conjunction with Parmesan cheese. Rice contains no flesh-forming properties whatever, as it contains no nitrogen; and with all due respect to vegetarians, it will be found that as we recede from the Equator and advance towards the Poles our food must of necessity vary with the latitude, and, whereas we may start on a diet of rice, we shall be forced, sooner or later, to depend upon a diet of pemmican, or food of a similar nature.
Rice, to Boil.—The best method of boiling rice is, at any rate, a much disputed point, if not an open question. There are as many ways almost of boiling rice as dressing a salad, and each one thinks his own way the best. We will mention a few of the most simple, and will illustrate it by boiling a small quantity that can be contained in a teacup. Of course, boiling rice is very much simplified if you want some rice-water as well as rice itself. Rice-water contains a great deal of nourishment, a fact which is well illustrated by the well-known story of the black troops who served in India under Clive, who, at the siege of Arcot, told Clive, when they were short of provisions, that the water in which the rice was boiled would be sufficient for them, while the more substantial grain could be preserved for the European troops. Take a teacupful of rice and wash the rice in several waters till the water ceases to be discoloured. Now throw the rice into boiling water, say a quart; let the rice boil gently till it is tender, strain off the rice and reserve the rice-water for other purposes. The time rice will take to boil treated this way would be probably about twenty minutes, but this time would vary slightly with the quality and size of the rice.
Many years ago we watched a black man boiling rice on board a P. and O. boat (the Mizapore); he proceeded as follows:—He boiled the rice for about ten minutes, or perhaps a minute or two longer, strained it off in a sieve, and then washed the rice with cold water, and then put the rice back in the stew-pan to once more get hot and swell. Of course, this rice was being boiled for curry, and certainly the result was that each grain was beautifully separated from every other grain. We do not think, however, that this method of boiling rice is customary on all the boats of the P. and O. Company. Of course this method of boiling rice was somewhat wasteful.
By far the most economical method of boiling rice is as follows; and we would recommend it to all who are in the habit of practising economy on the grounds of either duty or necessity. Wash thoroughly, as before, a teacupful of rice and put it in a small stew-pan or saucepan with two breakfastcupfuls of water, bring this to a boil and let it boil for ten minutes, then remove the saucepan to the side of the fire and let the rice soak and swell for about twenty minutes. After a little time, you can put a cloth on the top of the saucepan to absorb the steam, similar to the way you treat potatoes after having strained off the water.
In boiling rice we must remember that there are two ways in which rice is served. One is as a meal in itself, the other as an accompaniment to some other kind of food. It will be found in Italy and Turkey and in the East generally, where rice forms, so to speak, the staff of life, that it is not cooked so soft and tender as it is in England, where it is generally served with something else. In fact, each grain of rice may be said to resemble an Irish potato, inasmuch as it has a heart in it. In Ireland potatoes, as a rule, are not cooked so much as they are in most parts of England. Probably the reason of this is, in most cases, that experience has taught people that there is more stay in rice and potatoes when served in a state that English people would call “under-done.” There is no doubt that the waste throughout the length and breadth of this prosperous land through over-cooking is something appalling.
Another very good method of boiling rice is the American style. Take a good-sized stew-pan or saucepan that has a tight-fitting lid. Put a cloth over the saucepan, after first pouring in, say, a pint of water; push down the cloth, keeping it tight, so as to make a well, but do not let the cloth reach the water; wash the rice as before, and put on the lid tight. Of course, with the cloth the lid will fit very tight indeed. Now put the saucepan on the fire and make the water boil continuously. By these means you steam the rice till it is tender and lose none of the nourishment. We can always learn from America.
Risotto à la Milannaise.—Take a teacupful of rice, wash it thoroughly and dry it. Chop up a small onion and put it in the bottom of a small stew-pan and fry the onion to a light-brown colour. Now add the dry rice, and stir this up with the onion and butter till the rice also is fried of a nice light-brown colour. Now add two breakfastcupfuls of stock or water and a pinch of powdered saffron, about sufficient to cover a threepenny-piece; let the rice boil for ten or eleven minutes, move the saucepan to the side of the fire and let it stand for twenty minutes or half an hour till it has absorbed all the stock or water. Now mix in a couple of tablespoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese. Flavour with a little pepper and salt, and serve the whole very hot.
Rice with Cabbage and Cheese.—Wash some rice and let it soak in some hot water, with a cabbage sliced up, for about an hour; then strain it off and put the rice and cabbage in a stew-pan with some butter, a little pepper and salt, and about a quarter of a grated nutmeg. Toss these about in the butter for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour over the fire, but do not let them turn colour; then add a small quantity of water or stock, let it stew till it is tender, and then serve it very hot with some grated cheese sprinkled over the top.
N.B.—The end of cheese rind can be utilised with this dish.
Rice with Cheese.—Wash some rice and then boil it for ten or eleven minutes in some milk, and let it stand till it has soaked up all the milk. The proportion generally is, as we have said before, a teacupful of rice to two breakfastcupfuls of milk; but as we shall want the rice rather moist on the present occasion, we must allow a little more milk. Now mix in some grated cheese and a little pepper and salt, place the mixture in a pie-dish, and cover the top with grated cheese, and place the pie-dish in the oven and bake till the top is nicely browned, and then serve.
Some cooks add a good spoonful of made mustard to the mixture. Some persons prefer it and some don’t; it is therefore best to serve some made mustard with the rice and cheese at table. Unless the mixture was fairly moist before it was put into the pie-dish, it would dry up in the oven and become uneatable.
Rice, Curried.—Boil a teacupful of well-washed rice in two breakfastcupfuls of water, and let the rice absorb all the water; put a cloth in the saucepan, and stir up the rice occasionally with a fork till the grains become dry and separate easily the one from the other. Now mix it up with some curry sauce, make the whole hot, and send it to table with a few whole bay-leaves mixed in with the rice. Only sufficient curry sauce should be added to moisten the rice—it must not be rice swimming in gravy; or you can make a well in the middle of the boiled rice and pour the curry sauce into this.
Rice Borders (Casseroles).—Casseroles, or rice borders, form a very handsome dish. It consists of a large border made of rice, the outside of which can be ornamented and the centre of which can be filled with a macedoine (i.e., a mixture) of fruit or vegetables. As you are probably aware, grocers have in their shop-windows small tins with copper labels, on which the word is printed “Macedoine.” This tin contains a mixture of cut-up, cooked vegetables. These are very useful to have in the house, as a nice dish can be served at a few moments’ notice. Mixed fruits are also sold in bottles under the name of Macedoine of Fruits. Of course, both vegetables and fruit can be prepared at home much cheaper from fresh fruit and vegetables, but this requires time and forethought. These mixtures are very much improved in appearance when served in a handsomely made rice border, and as the border is eaten with the vegetables and fruit there is no want of economy in the recipe. Suppose we are going to make a rice border. Take a pound of rice and wash it carefully if we are going to fill it with fruit we must boil it in sweetened milk, but if we are going to fill it with vegetables we must boil it in vegetable stock or water. Add, as the case may be, sufficient liquid to boil the rice till it is thoroughly tender and soft. Now place it in a large bowl, and with a wooden spoon mash it till it becomes a sort of firm, compact paste; then take it out and roll it into the shape of a cannon-ball, and having done this, flatten it till it becomes of the shape of the cheeses one meets with in Holland—flat top and bottom, with rounded edges. You can now ornament the outside by making it resemble a fluted mould of jelly. The best way of doing this is to cut a carrot in half and scoop out part of the inside with a cheese-scoop, so that the width of the part where it is scooped is about the same as the two flat sides. Make the outside of the rice perfectly smooth with the back of a wooden spoon. Butter the carrot mould to prevent it sticking, and press this gently on the outside of the shape of rice till it resembles the outside of a column in Gothic architecture, then place it in the oven and let it bake till it is firm and dry. Then scoop out the centre and put it back for a short time. If the border is going to be used for a macedoine of vegetables, beat up a yolk of egg and paint the outside of the casserole with this, and then it will bake a nice golden-brown colour. Now take it out of the oven and fill it accordingly. It can be served hot or cold, or it can be filled with a German salad. (See MACEDOINE OF FRUIT; MACEDOINE OF VEGETABLES; SALAD, GERMAN.)
Rice Croquettes, Savoury.—Boil a teacupful of rice in some stock or water (about two breakfastcupfuls), till it is tender, and until the rice has absorbed all the water or stock. Chop up a small onion very fine, fry it till tender in a very little butter, but do not let it brown; add a small teaspoonful of mixed savoury herbs, a brimming teaspoonful of chopped parsley, to the contents of the frying-pan for two or three minutes, and then add them to the rice. Mix it well together, and let the rice dry in the oven till the mixture is capable of being rolled into balls. Now take two eggs, separate the yolk from the white of one, beat up the whole egg and one white thoroughly in a basin, but do no beat it to a froth; add the rice mixture to this, mix it again very thoroughly, and then roll it into balls about the size of a small walnut, seasoning the mixture with sufficient pepper and salt. Roll these balls in flour, in order to insure the outside being dry, and roll them backwards and forwards on the sieve in order to get rid of the superfluous flour. Make some very fine bread-crumbs from some stale bread; next beat up the yolk of egg with about a dessertspoonful of warm water. Dip the rice-balls into this, and then cover them with the bread-crumbs. Let them stand for an hour or two for the bread-crumbs to get dry, and then fry them a light golden-brown colour in a little oil. Fried parsley can be served with them.
Instead of bread-crumbs you can use up broken vermicelli—the bottom of a jar of vermicelli can sometimes be utilised this way. This has a very pretty appearance. The vermicelli browns quickly, and the croquettes have the appearance of little balls covered in brown network.
Rice, Savoury.—There are several ways of serving savoury rice. The rice can be boiled in some stock, strongly flavoured with onion and celery, and when cooked sufficiently tender one or two eggs can be beaten up with it, pepper and salt added, and the mixture served with grated cheese.
Rice can also be rendered savoury by the addition of chopped mushrooms, pepper and salt, and a little butter, and if a tin of mushrooms is used, the liquor in the tin should be added to the boiled rice, but in every case the rice should be made to absorb the liquor in which it is boiled. Eggs can again be added, as well as grated Parmesan cheese.
A cheap and quick way of making rice savoury is to mix it with a large tablespoonful of chutney; make it hot with a little butter, and add pepper—cayenne if preferred—and a little lemon-juice.
Rice can also be served as savoury by boiling it in any of the sauces that may be termed savoury in distinction to those that are sweet, given in the chapter entitled “Sauces.”
Rice and Eggs.—Boil, say half a pound of rice, and let it absorb the water in which it is boiled. Take four hard-boiled eggs, separate the yolks from the whites, chop the whites very fine, and add them to the rice with about a brimming teaspoonful of chopped blanched parsley and sufficient savoury herbs to cover a sixpence. Put this in the saucepan and make it hot, with a little butter, and flavour with plenty of pepper and salt. In the meantime beat the yellow hard-boiled yolks to a yellow powder, turn out the rice mixture, when thoroughly hot, into a vegetable dish, and put the yellow powder either in the centre or make a ring of the yellow powder round the edge of the rice, and serve a little pile of fried parsley in the middle.
Rice and Tomato.—Take half-a-dozen ripe tomatoes, squeeze out the pips, and put them in a tin in the oven with a little butter to bake; baste them occasionally with a little butter. In the meantime boil half a pound of rice in a little stock or water, only adding sufficient so that the rice can absorb the liquid. When this is done (and this will take about the same time as the tomatoes take to bake), pour all the liquid and butter in the tin on to the rice and stir it well up with some pepper and salt. Put this on a dish, and serve the tomatoes on the rice with the red, unbroken side uppermost.
Macaroni.—Macaroni is a preparation of pure wheaten flour. It is chiefly made in Italy, though a good deal is made in Geneva and Switzerland. The best macaroni is made in the neighbourhood of Naples. The wheat that grows there ripens quickly under the pure blue sky and hot sun, and consequently the outside of the wheat is browner while the inside of the wheat is whiter than that grown in England. The wheat is ground and sifted repeatedly. It is generally sifted about five times, and the pure snow-white flour that falls from the last sifting is made into macaroni. It is first mixed with water and made into a sort of dough, the dough being kneaded in the truly orthodox Eastern style by being trodden out with the feet. It is then forced by a sort of rough machinery through holes, partially baked during the process, and then hung up to dry. Macaroni contains a great amount of nourishment, and it is only made from the purest and finest flour. It is the staple dish throughout Italy, and in whatever form or way it is cooked, except as a sweet, tomatoes and grated Parmesan cheese seem bound to accompany it.
Sparghetti.—Sparghetti is a peculiar form of macaroni. Ordinary macaroni is made in the form of long tubes, and when macaroni pudding is served in schools, it is often irreverently nicknamed by the boys gas-pipes. Sparghetti is not a tube, but simply macaroni made in the shape of ordinary wax-tapers, which it resembles very much in appearance. In Italy it is often customary to commence dinner with a dish of sparghetti, and should the dinner consist as well of soup, fish, entrée, salad, and sweet, the sparghetti would be served before the soup. Take, say, half a pound of sparghetti, wash it in cold water, and throw it instantly into boiling salted water; boil it till it is tender, about twenty minutes, drain it, put it into a hot vegetable-dish, and mix in two or three tablespoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese; toss it about lightly with a couple of forks, till the cheese melts and forms what may be called cobwebs on tossing it about. Add also two tablespoonfuls of tomato conserve (sold by all grocers, in bottles), and serve immediately. This is very cheap, very satisfying, and very nourishing; and it is to be regretted that this popular dish is not more often used by those who are not vegetarians, who would benefit both in pocket and in health were they to lessen their butcher’s bill by at any rate commencing dinner, like the Italians, with a dish of sparghetti.
Macaroni—Italian Fashion.—This is very similar to sparghetti, only ordinary pipe macaroni is used. Take, say, a teacupful of macaroni, wash it, break it up into two-inch pieces, and throw it into boiling water that has been salted. Strain it of off, put it in the stew-pan for a few minutes, with a little piece of butter and some pepper and salt. Add a tablespoonful of tomato conserve, and serve it with some grated Parmesan cheese, served separate in a dish.
Some rub the stew-pan with a head of garlic. This gives it what may be called a more foreign flavour, but this should not be done unless you know your guests like garlic. Unfortunately, the proper use of garlic is very little understood in this country.
Macaroni Cheese.—Some years back this was almost the only form in which macaroni was served in this country. Macaroni cheese used to be served at the finish of dinner in a dried-up state, and was perhaps one of the most indigestible dishes which the skill, or want of skill, of our English cooks was able to produce. Wash and then boil a quarter of a pound of macaroni in a little milk till it is quite tender, then put into a well-buttered oval tin a layer of macaroni, and cover this with a layer of bread-crumbs, mixed with grated cheese, and add a few little lumps of butter; then put another layer of macaroni and another layer of bread-crumbs and cheese. Continue alternate layers till you pile up the dish, taking care to have a layer of dried bread-crumbs at the top. Warm some butter, but do not oil it, and pour some of this warm butter over the top of the dish to moisten them; put the dish in the oven till it is hot through, then take it out and brown the top quickly with a red-hot salamander. If you leave the macaroni cheese in the oven too long the dish will taste oily and the cheese get so hard as to become absolutely indigestible. Any kind of grated cheese will do for this dish, but to the English palate it is best when made from a moist cheese similar to that which would be used in making Welsh rabbit.
Macaroni and Eggs.—Take half a pound of macaroni and throw it into boiling water that has been salted. In the meantime have ready four hard-boiled eggs. When the macaroni is nearly tender throw the hard-boiled eggs into cold water for a minute, in order to enable you to take off the shells without burning your fingers. Cut the eggs in half, take out the half yellow yolk without breaking it; cut the whites of the eggs into rings and mix these rings with the macaroni on the dish. The macaroni and eggs must be flavoured with pepper and salt, and if possible pour a little white sauce over the whole. If you have no white sauce add a little cream or a little thickened milk with a little butter dissolved in it; now sprinkle a little chopped blanched parsley over the whole and ornament the dish with the eight half-yolks.
Macaroni à la Reine.—Boil half a pound of pipe macaroni. Meanwhile warm slowly in a saucepan three-quarters of a pint of cream, and slice into it half a pound of Stilton or other white cheese, add two ounces of good fresh butter, two blades of mace, pounded, a good pinch of cayenne and a little salt. Stir until the cheese is melted and the whole is free from lumps, when put in the macaroni and move it gently round the pan until mixed and hot, or put the macaroni on a hot dish and pour the sauce over. It may be covered with fried bread-crumbs of a pale colour and browned in a Dutch oven.
Macaroni au Gratin.—Break up a pound of macaroni in three-inch lengths, boil as usual and drain. Put into a stew-pan a quarter of a pound of fresh butter, the macaroni, twelve ounces of Parmesan and Gruyère cheese mixed, and about a quarter of a pint of some good sauce, white sauce. Move the stew-pan and its contents over the fire until the macaroni has absorbed the butter, etc., then turn it out on a dish, which should be garnished with croutons of fried bread. Pile it in the shape of a dome, cover with bread-raspings, a little clarified butter run through a colander, and brown very lightly with a salamander.
N.B.—The above two recipes are taken from “Cassell’s Dictionary of Cookery.”
Macaroni as an Ornament.—Macaroni is sometimes used to ornament the outside of puddings, either savoury or sweet. Suppose the pudding has to be made in a small round mould or basin. Some pipe macaroni is boiled in water till it is tender, and then cut up into little pieces a quarter of an inch in length. The inside of the mould is first thickly buttered, and then these little quarter-inch tubes are stuck in the butter close together; the pudding, for instance a custard pudding, is then poured into the mould and the mould steamed. When the pudding is turned out the outside of the pudding has the appearance of a honey-comb, and looks extremely pretty. The process is not difficult, but rather troublesome, as it requires time and patience.
Macaroni, Timbale of.—This is a somewhat expensive dish. You have first to decorate a plain mould with what is called nouilles paste, which is made by mixing half a pound of flour with five yolks of eggs. The mould is then lined with ordinary short paste, made with half a pound of flour, a quarter of a pound of butter, and one yolk of egg, mixed in the ordinary way. When the mould is lined, you have to fill it up with flour, and bake it in a moderate oven for about an hour. You then take it out, empty out the flour and brush it well out with an ordinary brush and dry the mould in a very slack oven. The mould is then filled with some macaroni that has been boiled tender in milk and flavoured with vanilla and sugar and Parmesan cheese. The macaroni must be so managed that it absorbs the moisture. The mould is filled, made hot, and then turned out. It is customary to shake some powdered sugar over the mould, and then glaze it with a red-hot salamander.
N.B.—Very few kitchens possess a proper salamander, but if you make the kitchen shovel red-hot it will be found to answer the same purpose.
Macaroni in Scollop Shells.—Take half a pound of macaroni, wash it, and throw it into boiling water. Take the macaroni out, drain it, and throw it into cold water. Then take it out and cut it into pieces not more than half an inch in length. Take about a quarter of a pound of butter, melt it in a stew-pan, and add about a cupful of milk, or still better, cream. Stir it and dredge in enough flour to make it thick, or still better, thicken it with a little white roux; now add some pepper and salt, about a quarter of a grated nutmeg, two or three spoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese; add the cut-up macaroni and stir the whole well up over the fire together and fill the scollop shells with the mixture, and throw some grated cheese over the top. Bake the scollops in the oven till the cheese begins to brown; then pour a little oiled butter over the top of the cheese. If made with cream this dish is somewhat rich, but forms an admirable meal eaten with plenty of bread.
Macaroni Nudels.—The word nudel is probably derived from French nouilles paste. It is made in a similar manner, or nearly so. French cooks use only yolk of egg and flour. English cooks use beaten-up eggs, and sometimes even reserve the yolks for other purposes and make the paste with white of egg. In any case, the yolks, the whole eggs, or the white without the yolks, must be well beaten up and then mixed in with the flour with the fingers till it makes a stiff paste. This paste or dough is then rolled out with a straight rolling pin—(not an English one)—till it is as thin as a wafer. The board must be well floured or it will stick. A marble slab is best, and if you are at a loss for a rolling-pin try an empty black bottle. It is very important to roll the pastry thin, and it has been well observed that the best test of thinness is to be able to read a book through the paste. When rolled out, let each thin cake dry for five or ten minutes. If you have a box of cutters you can cut this paste into all sorts of shapes according to the shape of the cutters, or you can cut each thin cake into pieces about the same size, and then with a sharp dry knife cut the paste into threads. These threads or ornamental shapes can be thrown into boiling clear soup, when they will separate of their own accord. Nudel paste is, in fact, home-made Italian paste, or, when cut into threads, home-made vermicelli. It is very nourishing, as it is made with eggs and flour.
Macaroni, Savoury.—Take half a pound of macaroni and boil it in some slightly salted water, and let it boil and simmer till the macaroni is tender and absorbs all the water in which it is boiled. Now take a dessertspoonful of raw mustard, i.e., mustard in the yellow powder. Mix this gradually with the macaroni, and add five or six tablespoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese and a little cayenne or white pepper according to taste. Turn the mixture out on to a dish, sprinkle some more grated Parmesan cheese over the top, bake it in the oven till it is slightly brown, pour a little oiled butter on the top, and serve.
Macaroni and Chestnuts.—Bake about twenty chestnuts till they are tender, and then peel them and pound them in a mortar, with a little pepper and salt and butter, till they are a paste. Next wash and boil in the ordinary way half a pound of macaroni. Drain off the macaroni and put it in a stew-pan with the chestnuts and about a couple of ounces of butter to moisten it, and stir it all together and put an onion in to flavour it as if you were making bread sauce; but the onion must be taken out whole before it is served. If the mixture gets too dry, it can be moistened with a little milk or stock. After it has been stirred together for about a quarter of an hour, turn it out on to a dish, cover it with a little Parmesan cheese, bake in the oven till it is brown, and moisten the top when browned with a little oiled butter.
Macaroni and Tomatoes.—Take half a pound of macaroni; wash it and boil it until it is tender. In the meantime take half a dozen or more ripe tomatoes; cut off the stalks, squeeze out the pips, and place them in a tin in the oven with a little butter to prevent their sticking. It is as well to baste the tomatoes once or twice with the butter and the juice that will come from them. Put the macaroni when tender and well drained off into a vegetable-dish, pour the contents of the tin, butter and juice, over the macaroni and add pepper and salt, and toss it lightly together. Now place the whole tomatoes on the top of the macaroni, round the edge, at equal distances. It is a great improvement to the appearance of the dish to sprinkle a little chopped blanched parsley over the macaroni. The tomatoes should be placed with the smooth, red, unbroken side uppermost.
Macaroni and Cream.—Boil half a pound of macaroni; cut it up into pieces about two inches long and put it into a stew-pan with two ounces of butter and a quarter of a pound of grated cheese, composed of equal parts of Gruyère and Parmesan cheese. Moisten this with about three tablespoonfuls of cream. Toss it all lightly together till the cheese makes cobwebs. Add a little pepper and salt and serve with some fried bread round the edge cut up into ornamental shapes. Carefully made pieces of toast, cut into triangles, will do instead of the fried bread.
Tagliatelli.—Take some flour and water, and with the addition of a little salt make a paste which can be rolled out quite thin; cut this into shapes of the breadth of half a finger. Throw them into boiling water and let them boil a few minutes. Then remove them to cold water; drain them on a sieve and use them as macaroni; place at the bottom of a dish some butter and grated cheese, then a layer of tagliatelli seasoned with pepper, another layer of butter and cheese, and then one of tagliatelli, until the whole is used; pour over it a glass of cream, add a layer of cheese, and finish like macaroni cheese, browning it in the oven.
Oatmeal Porridge.—Of all dishes used by vegetarians there are none more wholesome, more nourishing, or more useful as an article of everyday diet for breakfast than oatmeal porridge. When we remember that the Scotch, who, for both body and brain, rank perhaps first amongst civilised nations, almost live on this cheap and agreeable form of food, we should take particular pains in the preparation of a standing dish which is in itself a strong argument in favour of a vegetarian diet when we look at the results, both mentally and bodily, that have followed its use North of the Tweed. The following excellent recipe for the preparation of oatmeal porridge is taken from a book entitled, “A Year’s Cookery,” by Phyllis Browne (Cassell & Co.):—“When there are children in the family it is a good plan, whatever they may have for breakfast, to let them begin the meal either with oatmeal porridge or bread-and-milk. Porridge is wholesome and nourishing, and will help to make them strong and hearty. Even grown-up people frequently enjoy a small portion of porridge served with treacle and milk. Oatmeal is either ‘coarse,’ ‘medium,’ or ‘fine.’ Individual taste must determine which of these three varieties shall be chosen. Scotch people generally prefer the coarsest kind. The ordinary way of making porridge is the following—Put as much water as is likely to be required into a saucepan with a sprinkling of salt, and let the water boil. Half a pint of water will make a single plateful of porridge. Take a knife (a ‘spurtle’ is the proper utensil) in the right hand, and some Scotch, or coarse, oatmeal in the left hand, and sprinkle the meal in gradually, stirring it briskly all the time; if any lumps form draw them to the side of the pan and crush them out. When the porridge is sufficiently thick (the degree of thickness must be regulated by individual taste), draw the pan back a little, put on the lid, and let the contents simmer gently till wanted; if it can have two hours’ simmering, all the better; but in hundreds of families in Scotland and the North of England it is served when it has boiled for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour; less oatmeal is required when it can boil a long time, because the simmering swells the oatmeal, and so makes it go twice as far. During the boiling the porridge must be stirred frequently to keep it from sticking to the saucepan and burning, but each time this is done the lid must be put on again. When it is done enough it should be poured into a basin or upon a plate, and served hot with sugar or treacle and milk or cream. The very best method that can be adopted for making porridge is to soak the coarse Scotch oatmeal in water for twelve hours, or more (if the porridge is wanted for breakfast it may be put into a pie-dish over night, and left till morning). As soon as the fire is lighted in the morning it should be placed on it, stirred occasionally, kept covered, and boiled as long as possible, although it may be served when it has boiled for twenty minutes. When thus prepared it will be almost like a delicate jelly, and acceptable to the most fastidious palate. The proportions for porridge made in this way are a heaped tablespoonful of coarse oatmeal to a pint of water.
“It is scarcely necessary to give directions for making—
“Bread and Milk, for everyone knows how this should be done. It may be said that the preparation has a better appearance if the bread is cut very small before the boiling milk is poured on it, and also that the addition of a small pinch of salt takes away the insipidity. Rigid economists sometimes swell the bread with boiling water, then drain this off and pour milk in its place. This, however, is almost a pity, for milk is so very good for children; and though recklessness is seldom to be recommended, a mother might well be advised to be reckless about the amount of her milk bill, provided always that the quantity of milk be not wasted, and that the children have it.”
Milk Porridge.—Take a tablespoonful of oatmeal and mix it up in a cup with a little cold milk till it is quite smooth, in a similar way as you would mix ordinary flour and milk in making batter. Next put a pint of milk on to boil, and as soon as it boils mix in the oatmeal and milk, and let it boil for about a quarter of an hour, taking care to keep stirring it the whole time. The fire should not be too fierce, as the milk is very apt to burn. Flavour this with either salt or sugar.
Rice and Barley Porridge.—Take a quarter of a pound of rice and a quarter of a pound of Scotch barley and wash them very thoroughly. The most perfect way of washing barley and rice is to throw them into boiling water, let them boil for five or ten minutes, and then strain them off. By this means the dirty outside is dissolved. Next boil the rice and barley gently for three or four hours, strain them off, and boil them up again in a little milk for a short time before they are wanted. It will often be found best to boil the barley for a couple of hours and then add the rice. A little cream is a very great improvement. The porridge can be flavoured with pepper and salt, but is very nice with brown sugar, treacle, or jam, and when cold forms an agreeable accompaniment to stewed fruit.
Whole-meal Porridge.—Boil a quart of water and gradually stir in about half a pound of whole-meal; let it boil for about a quarter of an hour, and serve. Cold milk should accompany this porridge.
Lentil Porridge.—To every quart of water add about six tablespoonfuls of lentil flour; let the whole boil for about a quarter of an hour, and flavour with pepper and salt.
Hominy.—Take a teacupful of hominy, wash it in several waters and rub it well between the hands, and throw away the grains that float on the top, the same as you do with split peas, pour the water off the top, then strain it off, and put it in a basin with a quart of water, and cover the basin over with a cloth; put it by to soak overnight, should it be required for breakfast in the morning. The next day put it in an enamelled stew-pan with about a teaspoonful of salt, and let it simmer gently over the fire, taking care that it does not burn. It is best to butter the bottom of the saucepan, or if you have a small plate that will just go inside you will find this a great protection. Let it simmer gently for rather more than an hour. Stir it well up and flavour it with either sugar or salt, and let it be eaten with cold milk poured on it on the plate, or with a little butter.
The hominy should simmer until it absorbs all the water in which it is boiled. As a rule a good teacupful will absorb a quart.
Hominy, Fried.—This is made from the remains of cold boiled hominy. When cold it will be a firm jelly. Cut the cold hominy into slices, flour them, egg and bread-crumb them, and then plunge them into some smoking hot oil till they are of a nice bright golden colour. They are very nice eaten with lemon-juice and sugar, or they can be served with orange marmalade.
Frumenty.—Take a quarter of a pint of wheat, wash it thoroughly, and let it soak for twelve hours or more in water. Strain it off and boil it in some milk till it is tender, but do not let it get pulpy. As soon as it is tender add a quart of milk, flavoured with a little cinnamon, three ounces of sugar, three ounces of carefully washed grocer’s currants, and let it boil for a quarter of an hour. Beat up three yolks of eggs in a tureen, and gradually add the mixture. It must not be added to the eggs in a boiling state or else they will curdle. A wineglassful of brandy is a great improvement, but is not absolutely necessary. The wheat takes a long time to get tender, probably four hours.
Sago Porridge.—Wash the sago in cold water and boil it in some water, allowing about two tablespoonfuls to every pint; add pepper and salt and let cold milk be served with the porridge.
Milk Toast.—This is a very useful way of using up stale bread. Toast the bread a light brown, and if by chance any part gets black scrape it gently off. Butter the toast slightly, lay the toast on the bottom of a soup-plate, and pour some boiling milk over it. Very little butter should be used, and children often prefer a thin layer of marmalade to butter.