So that's what made this poor woman
shiver. Not the bare reflection upon the
expensiveness of lard, but the dread of
this young man's calling heartlessly one^
two, three, four times for pie; having her
in his power; knowing she dared not say
no, or, "it is all out," while the other
boarders were, yet to be served and would
presently be, right before his eyes. I
think if he had been in my place and real-
ized what depths of doubt and fear this
likelihood of his wanting four pieces had
opened before her he would have sworn
oif from ever going beyond the second
order. However, there are extenuating,
circumstances to be mentioned in his
favor.
We fellows who make our custard piea
in all that swaggering, arrogant feeling of
boundless wealth that is born of having
a plethroic store-room and whole barrels
full of "stuff" to use out of would
feel more like pitying than blaming the
young man who would essay to movt
around after a four-piece in-vest-mtwi of
our pies, however good and wholesome,
for, as we fill each one to the brim witui
a i.int of milk, four eggs✪ Mrs. Tingee's Costard Pie and four ounces
4^
COOKING FOR PROFIT.
of su^ar and the crust weighs at least
four ounces more it is within an ounce or
two of being two pounds weight for_ each
custard pie, and though we cut it in the
smallest pieces, that is in eight, the young
man who would eat four would almost
surely feel such discomfort that a pound
of pie at once would bring its own punish-
ment ; and I understood Mrs. Tmgee to
say that she cut her's in only six— so much
the worse for the young man. However,
in this case I tried to sympathise with
Mrs. Tingee and offered her the poor
comfort of saying that everything costs
and it might as well be custard pie as
something else; with which she cautiously
agreed.
*'But won't it take milk? she asked.*'
**Yes, of course."
"How much, do you think?,'
Now I verily believe she was thinking j
spoonfuls while I was thinking quarts,
but not wishing to alarm her, I said :
"Oh, about a pint."
"But that's for tea," she rephed.-
"Maam?"
"That's for tea."
"What, the pie?"
"No, the milk."
"Oh! yes, I understand," and did be-
gin to apprehend her meaning. That is
just like a woman. I was thinking of a
pint of milk— any pint of milk— from
anywhere in the world so that we got it;
she was thinking of the pint of milk, the
one pint of milk in her cupboard set there
to be used for the tea at the evening meal
and, to her the only pint of milk in the
universe.
"Well, then," I said, "you need not
use that ; you can make just as good a
custard with water."
"Is that so?" she said, brightening up,
"have you ever made custard with
water?" I nodded an affirmative.
• 'What ever made you think of trying
that?" . ,. .
"It tried itself, as it were. You see
when at the Cloverdale Hotel and cot-
tages in the early part of the season we
had more milk than we could possibly
use we made custard pie with cream, and
of course it was good. As the season
advanced and the crowd increased we
got down to skimmed milk and to milk
mixed with water, and still the custard
pies were apparently as good as before;
Page 176 · 1 recipe record on this page
Presented as published in 1886. 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
So that's what made this poor woman shiver. Not the bare reflection upon the expensiveness of lard, but the dread of this young man's calling heartlessly one, two, three, four times for pie; having her in his power; knowing she dared not say no, or, "it is all out," while the other boarders were, yet to be served and would presently be, right before his eyes. I think if he had been in my place and realized what depths of doubt and fear this likelihood of his wanting four pieces had opened before her he would have sworn oif from ever going beyond the second order. However, there are extenuating, circumstances to be mentioned in his favor.
We fellows who make our custard piea in all that swaggering, arrogant feeling of boundless wealth that is born of having a plethroic store-room and whole barrels full of "stuff" to use out of would feel more like pitying than blaming the young man who would essay to move around after a four-piece investment of our pies, however good and wholesome, for, as we fill each one to the brim with a pint of milk, four eggs and four ounces
4^
of sugar and the crust weighs at least four ounces more it is within an ounce or two of being two pounds weight for each custard pie, and though we cut it in the smallest pieces, that is in eight, the young man who would eat four would almost surely feel such discomfort that a pound of pie at once would bring its own punishment ; and I understood Mrs. Tingee to say that she cut her's in only six— so much the worse for the young man. However, in this case I tried to sympathise with Mrs. Tingee and offered her the poor comfort of saying that everything costs and it might as well be custard pie as something else; with which she cautiously agreed.
*"But won't it take milk?" she asked. **Yes, of course." "How much, do you think?,' Now I verily believe she was thinking spoonfuls while I was thinking quarts, but not wishing to alarm her, I said : "Oh, about a pint." "But that's for tea," she rephed.- "Maam?" "That's for tea." "What, the pie?" "No, the milk."
"Oh! yes, I understand," and did begin to apprehend her meaning. That is just like a woman. I was thinking of a pint of milk— any pint of milk— from anywhere in the world so that we got it; she was thinking of the pint of milk, the one pint of milk in her cupboard set there to be used for the tea at the evening meal and, to her the only pint of milk in the universe.
"Well, then," I said, "you need not use that ; you can make just as good a custard with water."
"Is that so?" she said, brightening up, "have you ever made custard with water?" I nodded an affirmative. • 'What ever made you think of trying
that?" . ,. .
"It tried itself, as it were. You see when at the Cloverdale Hotel and cottages in the early part of the season we had more milk than we could possibly use we made custard pie with cream, and of course it was good. As the season advanced and the crowd increased we got down to skimmed milk and to milk mixed with water, and still the custard pies were apparently as good as before;
Records on this page
Mrs. Tingee's Costard Pie