is the next branch of the art which is of the most importance and appears the most simple, yet, at the same time, the most difficult, and is a subject upon which, if I were to dilate, would occupy a good quarto volume; it is one of those easy things which it is supposed everybody can do, and therefore no attention is paid to it, and it is generally done badly. According to the way in which it is done, meat may be rendered hard and tough or tender, lose or retain its flavor or nourishment; great difference of opinion exists amongst medical men which are the easiest of digestion—roasted or boiled meats. I say it is a subject quite impossible to decide, as it must depend upon the different constitutions and climate; for we might as well say that the food of the Esquimaux is adapted for the native of Italy.
STEWING ought to be the best understood, on account of its economy; pieces of coarse meat, subjected to stewing, if properly done, become tender, as the gelatinous parts become partly dissolved; it should be done slowly, the pan partly uncovered, and frequently skimmed. Great cleanliness should be observed in all the vessels used for stewing.
BRAISING is the next and most important part of the art of cooking, and, like the sauté, belongs entirely to the French school, from whom it takes its name, braise being the remains of wood burnt in the oven, or live charcoal: and as this plan of cookery requires the action of the fire under and over the braising-pan, which is air-tight, in order that the aromatic flavor arising from its contents may be imbibed by the meat or poultry, and give it that succulence so much esteemed by epicures. The braise is put on the cover, which, in some cases, is made deep on purpose to hold it. Its origin is stated to be owing to a gastronomic society which was formerly in existence in Paris, whose object was to benefit and improve the art of cookery, and who offered a reward of a silver gridiron to any culinary artist who would discover a new mode of dressing a turkey. Although a gridiron was, no doubt, intended to be used, yet a young artist named La Gacque, warmed by the offer, directed his imagination to quite a different mode, and used the pan instead of the gridiron, and thus composed the braise, which was unanimously approved of by that scientific, gastronomic, and epicurean body, who awarded him the prize. The chief art in braising is to do it slowly, taking care that the ingredients are well-proportioned, receipts for which will be found in their proper place.
FRYING.—Of all the apparently simple modes of cookery there is none more so than that of frying, but yet how rare to meet with it done properly. I believe it is to be attributed, in a great measure, to the idea that, to do it well is expensive. I have therefore made a series of experiments upon a plan such as should be followed in every private house, and I am convinced that to do it well is cheaper than doing it badly; but, in the first place, we ought to consider, What is frying? It is the insertion of any substance into boiling oil, or grease, by which the surface of that substance becomes carbonized, and the heat which effects this object is sufficient to solidify the albumen and gelatine, or, more commonly speaking, cooked; to do this properly, the substance ought to be covered by the liquid, so that the heat acts all over it at the same time, or otherwise the osmazome, or gravy, will be dried out of that part which is not covered, and the succulence and flavor of the viand lost; or, should the liquid not be of that degree of heat which would carbonize the surface on the moment of its immersion, it would then enter into the substance, render it greasy, and destroy its flavor, which no degree of heat afterwards could remedy. Those articles which are fried are generally those which have a coating of materials (such as bread-crumbs and batter) which are quickly carbonized, and thus form a crust which prevents the grease penetrating, concentrates the liquids, and preserves the flavor of the article; the carbonization once effected, the fire should be immediately moderated, particularly if the article is large, in order that the interior may become properly solidified. All articles properly fried are generally much liked, as they are agreeable to the eye, and afford a pleasing variety.
The plan that I recommend you to adopt is, to obtain an iron or copper pan long enough for a good-sized sole, and 6 to 8 inches deep, and fill three to four inches of it with fat—the skimmings of the stock-pot, or, if that should not be sufficient, the kidney-fat of beef, cut up, melted, and strained. In wealthy establishments, lard, and, in some, bacon-fat melted is used, and, for some articles, olive oil, which can only be used once; but in our less luxurious homes I think the above is sufficient, besides, it has the advantage of not requiring that great attention which the other does. When you have the fat on, before immersing the substance you intend to fry, see that it is sufficiently hot by dipping your finger (not in the fat), but in a little water, and then hold it over the fat, so that a few drops go into it; if it spits and throws back the water, it is sufficiently hot: or, throw in a small dice of bread and take it out immediately; if it is firm or colored, it is hot enough: or, in frying of fish, before putting it in, lay hold of the head and dip the end of the tail, and, if it crisps it, then let the remainder go in. I have found, if due attention is paid to the pan to prevent it from burning, forty articles may be fried in it before it wants renewing; and I am certain it will be found cheaper than the common way of putting a little fat into the frying-pan and turning the sole over and over, for you are then almost certain of sending the grease up to the table, where it is not wanted. When the fat is not used, it should be emptied, whilst hot, through a sieve, into an earthen pipkin, and covered with paper to prevent the dust going in it. For the purpose of frying, an iron wire-basket, with a handle, is used, in which the object to be cooked is placed, and thus inserted in the liquid. The cost of this instrument is trifling.
SAUTEING.—You will perceive, dearest, by the following, that the word fried is often wrongly used in cookery instead of the word sauté, which process is totally different, and produces quite another effect on food. Sauté means anything cooked in a very small quantity of butter, oil, lard, or fat, one side of the article at a time, whilst the other requires about 100 times more of the above-named materials to cook properly. You will see, in these remarks, that it is not frying a pancake, omelette, or still less a chop, steak, or cutlet, but that they are sautéd; and how to explain that word, to use it instead of the misapplied word fry, puzzles me considerably, as I am quite ignorant of its origin as regards its application to cookery. All the researches I have made in English and French Dictionaries and Encyclopædias, have not enlightened me in the least on the subject. In French, it means to jump, hop, skip, understood by our boys at school, as well as by the grasshopper tribe, called in French sauterelles, from the word sauter, to jump. I well remember at school we had a French emigré for a dancing-master, who used to get into a passion when we did not dance to his professional taste; and used to say, in shaking his powdered wig, as holding his fiddle in one hand and his bow in the other, making all kinds of grimaces and contortions, which used to remind me of the principal figure in the group of the Laocoon,—“Mon dieu, mon dieu, young miss, vous sautez très bien, mais vous dansez fort mal;” which means, “You jump very well, but you dance very badly.” It also reminds me of an expression made by a friend of ours from Havre, who was on a visit to us last November. Seeing some Guy Fawkes carried about the street, he asked me what it meant; when I told him, that in the year 1605, an attempt was made to destroy by gunpowder the King and Parliament in the House of Lords, as well as ——. “Oui, oui, madame, I know, I remember reading of it in English history; it was that little brute qui a voulut faire sauter le Parlement,” replied he very quickly. “Sauter, sauter,” I said; “no, sir, not sauté—blow up.” “Oui, oui, madame, I know, it is the same thing.” “Same thing,” replied I. This of course puzzled my culinary imagination still more; and I perceived, that if the word was translated to his meaning, it would sound most absurd and ridiculous; as, for example, on being at a festive board, and a polite young gentleman, or even your own husband, might gallantly offer to give you a blow-up cutlet, instead of a cotelette sauté, as they say in fashionable circles. I can easily conceive, that if the cotelette was blown up, it would stand a chance of coming down on the other side, thus saving the cook the trouble; but if Guy Fawkes had unfortunately succeeded, it would have produced quite another effect. Having failed in my literary researches, I tried to find it in practice. I therefore went to my kitchen, and put two spoonfuls of oil in a sautépan; I took a nice spring chicken prepared for broiling, put on the fire; and, as it began to act upon it, the oil began to jump, and also slightly the chicken. I then perceived that the way my French friend used the word was right; and that, after all, there was not such a
