to be anything but agreeable. We must not, however, lose sight of the very soul
of cookery, namely, economy ; and, perhaps already, some young housekeeper may
have exclaimed, " Ah ! it is all very well ; but we cannot afford to waste all this
fat in just cooking one or two fish." Wait a moment, however. Are you aware
that the fat that would cook fish once will cook it twenty, thirty, even fifty times 1
Are you aware that if, after the fish is cooked, you pour the fat carefully into a
basin containing boiling water, and stir it up and let it settle, the loose bread-crumbs,
and the bad part of the fish, &c., will sink to the bottom of the water, and the fat present
a clean and wholesome appearance next morrdng when it has got cold ? Let this fat,
therefore, be carefully removed in a thick cake from the top of the basin into which
it has been poured. Scrape ofi" carefvilly the rough pieces adjoining the water, and
place the fat by in a small basin by itself, and label it " for frying fish." I have no
hesitation in saying that this fat will keep perfectly good in winter-time for two or
three months. It is far cheaper in the long run to use two pounds of fat and cook
things properly, and make the same fat do fifty times, than to use two ounces, cook the
fish badly, and let the remauis of the fat help to swell that bugbear of young house-
keepers, the " cook's grease-pot." In conclusion, with regard to frying, be careful in
removing the fish from the fat, that, before you place it on a dish, you let it rest a
few minutes on a hot cloth, which wiU absorb the grease. At the same time, be
equally careful that you do not place it in an oven to keep it warm. For fried fish
to taste properly, but a very few minutes should elapse between the frying-pan and
the dinner-table. A snow-white cloth at the bottom of the dish, some sprigs of
bright gi-een parsley placed alternately with a few slices of lemon, will give the dish
a better appearance.
I have, however, mentioned that I believe economy to be the soul of cookery.
There is, perhaps, no word in the English language so little understood as this word
economy. Just as political economists are too often considered by the vulgar to be
men of hard hearts, so, too, in the art of cookery is economy often associated with
meanness and stinginess. I have no hesitation in saying it will be invariably found
that the better the cook, the more economy will be practised. There is more waste
in the cottage than in the palace, for the simple reason that the cottage cook is
entirely ignorant of an art which the chef has brought to perfection. What your
so-called good plain cooks thi'ow away, an ingenious French artiste will make into
entrees. The French are a nation of cooks, and they cannot afford to dine without
soup. Probably the contents of the dust-bins of England would more than fill the
soup-tureens of France. I will give a very simple instance of what I term economy
in the ordinary living of middle-class families. We all know that grand old-
fashioned piece de resistance, the British sirloin. Who has not seen it in its last
stages 1 — the under-cut gone ; the upper part dug out, on which some greedy
individual has evidently gi-asped after the under-done piece in the middle, but who,
at the same time, has entirely ignored the end.
Page 7
Presented as published in 1892. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
to be anything but agreeable. We must not, however, lose sight of the very soul of cookery, namely, economy ; and, perhaps already, some young housekeeper may have exclaimed, " Ah ! it is all very well ; but we cannot afford to waste all this fat in just cooking one or two fish." Wait a moment, however. Are you aware that the fat that would cook fish once will cook it twenty, thirty, even fifty times 1 Are you aware that if, after the fish is cooked, you pour the fat carefully into a basin containing boiling water, and stir it up and let it settle, the loose bread-crumbs, and the bad part of the fish, &c., will sink to the bottom of the water, and the fat present a clean and wholesome appearance next morning when it has got cold ? Let this fat, therefore, be carefully removed in a thick cake from the top of the basin into which it has been poured. Scrape off carefully the rough pieces adjoining the water, and place the fat by in a small basin by itself, and label it " for frying fish." I have no hesitation in saying that this fat will keep perfectly good in winter-time for two or three months. It is far cheaper in the long run to use two pounds of fat and cook things properly, and make the same fat do fifty times, than to use two ounces, cook the fish badly, and let the remauis of the fat help to swell that bugbear of young housekeepers, the " cook's grease-pot." In conclusion, with regard to frying, be careful in removing the fish from the fat, that, before you place it on a dish, you let it rest a few minutes on a hot cloth, which will absorb the grease. At the same time, be equally careful that you do not place it in an oven to keep it warm. For fried fish to taste properly, but a very few minutes should elapse between the frying-pan and the dinner-table. A snow-white cloth at the bottom of the dish, some sprigs of bright green parsley placed alternately with a few slices of lemon, will give the dish a better appearance.
I have, however, mentioned that I believe economy to be the soul of cookery. There is, perhaps, no word in the English language so little understood as this word economy. Just as political economists are too often considered by the vulgar to be men of hard hearts, so, too, in the art of cookery is economy often associated with meanness and stinginess. I have no hesitation in saying it will be invariably found that the better the cook, the more economy will be practised. There is more waste in the cottage than in the palace, for the simple reason that the cottage cook is entirely ignorant of an art which the chef has brought to perfection. What your so-called good plain cooks throw away, an ingenious French artiste will make into entrees. The French are a nation of cooks, and they cannot afford to dine without soup. Probably the contents of the dust-bins of England would more than fill the soup-tureens of France. I will give a very simple instance of what I term economy in the ordinary living of middle-class families. We all know that grand oldfashioned piece de resistance, the British sirloin. Who has not seen it in its last stages? — the under-cut gone ; the upper part dug out, on which some greedy individual has evidently grasped after the under-done piece in the middle, but who, at the same time, has entirely ignored the end.