The cult of the chafing dish

The method of procedure is simplicity itself. The tablet is broken into fragments in a cup or a bowl and mixed into a thin paste with a little cold water. Then heat a pint of water in the Chafer to boiling, pour in the mixture, and let it cook gently, not boiling, for fifteen to twenty minutes. Each tablet has its own particular directions on the wrapper, and I have found that they apply equally to the Chafing Dish, except that the time required is rather shorter than that mentioned, owing to the greater heat. The flavour of the soups can be enhanced by a few drops of sauce, a sprinkling of Paprika pepper, half a wineglass of sherry, or a dash of Tabasco ; but this is a matter of individual taste. The tapioca, sago, and semolina soups are particularly good, and I do not find that they require the addition of any salt, although this again is a purely personal affair. A beaten-up raw egg put into the soup and well stirred up just before serving, makes it richer and suaver, but is by no means necessary. By the way, in cooking soups, as indeed in all Chafing-Dish cookery, I cannot too earnestly insist upon the use of wooden spoons for all stirring manipulations. Metal spoons, even silver, are abhorrent to the good cook. Wooden spoons are clean, cheap, and thoroughly efficient. The fancy-dressed cook ("Cordon bleu" he generally calls himself) always wears one in his apron, but if he only knew it, the wooden spoon (apart from examination awards) is his surest title to honour as a true maitre de bouche. The Spanish Estudiantina also wear a wooden spoon in their black tricorne hats, but this, I understand, only means that they are poor and hungry, and glad to dip their spoon in any one's mess of Puchero, in order to enjoy a square meal. Pea Soup. Pea soup is a great invention. Not the Purie aux Petits Pais (good as that may be) of the chefiest of chefs, but the plain, good, thick, flavoursome pea soup which is as nourishing as it is soothing and satisfying. I find that Chaffinda's favourite is Brand's Consolidated Pea Soup, which sounds like a gold mine, but is really a sort of Erbswurst, only better. It is sold in dainty little tins at an absurdly cheap price. One little tin makes two good platesful. It is prepared by mixing the contents to a thick paste with water. To this paste add a pint of cold water, put it all in the Chafing Dish, and boil it for about twelve to fifteen minutes until it gets thick. To make it even better, add a sprinkling of dried mint and a handful of toast dice, browned with butter, and you have a feast for hungry gods on a cold day. Another way : instead of using mint and toast, cut half a dozen thin slices from a Soups 43 Brunswick sausage, peel off the rind and drop them in the soup when it is half cooked. The mixture is very toothsome. Turtle Soup. From small things to great : from the common and strictly garden pea to the Aldermanic and luscious turtle. Most turtle importers make their own preserved turtle, which is sometimes good and always expensive. For Chafing-Dish purposes I prefer the Concrete Turtle Tablets made by Levien and Sherlock, of 68 Harbour Street, Kingston, Jamaica. They are to be had at the Army and Navy Stores. Each little cake is enough for two moderately greedy people, and costs one shilling. Put in the Chafing Dish a good pint of water, which bring to the boil ; add salt and pepper (Paprika for choice) to taste. Cut the turtle tablet into pieces, or if it is too hard, as is often the case in winter, break It up into eight or ten lumps. Throw these into the boiling water and keep on stirring until they dissolve and the soup becomes