Thanks, my lord, for your venison; for finer or fatter
Never ranged in a forest or smoked in a platter.
The haunch was a picture for painters to study,
The fat was so white, and the lean was so ruddy.
Goldsmith.

The haunch of buck will take about three hours and three quarters roasting. Put a coarse paste of brown flour and water, and a paper over that, to cover all the fat; baste it well with dripping, and keep it at a distance, to get hot at the bones by degrees. When near done, remove the covering, and baste it with butter, and froth it up before you serve. Gravy for it should be put in a boat, and not in the dish (unless there be none in the venison), and made thus: cut off the fat from two or three pounds of a loin of old mutton, and set it in steaks on a gridiron for a few minutes, just to brown one side; put them in a saucepan with a quart of water, cover quite close for an hour, and gently simmer it; then uncover, and stew till the gravy be reduced to a pint. Season only with salt.

VENISON PASTY.

And now that I think on’t, as I am a sinner!
We wanted this venison to make out the dinner.
What say you? a pasty! it shall and it must,
And my wife, little Kitty, is famous for crust.
“What the de’il, mon, a pasty!” re-echoed the Scot.
“Though splitting, I’ll still keep a corner for that.”
“We’ll all keep a corner,” the lady cried out;
“We will all keep a corner!” was echoed about.
Goldsmith.

Cut a neck or breast into small steaks, rub them over with a seasoning of sweet herbs, grated nutmeg, pepper and salt; fry them slightly in butter. Line the sides and edges of a dish with puff paste, lay in the steaks, and add half a pint of rich gravy, made with the trimmings of the venison; add a glass of port wine, and the juice of half a lemon or teaspoonful of vinegar; cover the dish with puff paste, and bake it nearly two hours; some more gravy may be poured into the pie before serving it.

ROAST BEEF.

And aye a rowth, a roast beef and claret:
Syne wha wad starve!
Burns.

The noble sirloin of about fifteen pounds will require to be before the fire about three and a half to four hours; take care to spit it evenly, that it may not be heavier on one side than on the other; put a little clean dripping into the dripping-pan (tie a sheet of paper over to preserve the fat); baste it well as soon as it is put down, and every quarter of an hour all the time it is roasting, till the last half hour; then take off the paper and make some gravy for it. Stir the fire, and make it clear; to brown and froth it, sprinkle a little salt over it, baste it with butter, and dredge it with flour; let it go a few minutes longer till the froth rises, take it up, put it on the dish, and serve it.

BEEF À LA BRAISE.

In short, dear, “a Dandy” describes what I mean,
And Bob’s far the best of the gems I have seen,
But just knows the names of French dishes and cooks,
As dear Pa knows the titles and authors of books;
Whose names, think how quick! he already knows pat,
A la braise, petit patÉs, and—what d’ye call that
They inflict on potatoes? Oh! maÎtre d’hotel.
I assure you, dear Dolly, he knows them as well
As if nothing but these all his life he had eat,
Though a bit of them Bobby has never touched yet.
I can scarce tell the difference, at least as to phrase,
Between beef À la PsychÉ and curls À la braise.
Moore.

Bone a rump of beef, lard it very thickly with salt pork seasoned with pepper, salt, cloves, mace, and allspice, and season the beef with pepper and salt; put some slices of bacon into the bottom of the pan, with some whole black pepper, a little allspice, one or two bay leaves, two onions, a clove of garlic, and a bunch of sweet herbs. Put in the beef, and lay over it some slices of bacon, two quarts of weak stock, and half a pint of white wine. Cover it closely, and let it stew between six and seven hours. Sauce for the beef is made of part of the liquor it has been stewed in, strained, and thickened with a little flour and butter, adding some green onions cut small, and pickled mushrooms. Pour it over the beef.

BEEF BAKED WITH POTATOES.

The funeral bak’d meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Shakspeare.

Boil some potatoes, peel, and pound them in a mortar with two small onions; moisten them with milk and an egg beaten up, add a little salt and pepper. Season slices of beef or mutton-chops with salt and pepper, and more onion, if the flavor is approved. Rub the bottom of a pudding-dish with butter, and put a layer of the mashed potatoes, which should be as thick as a batter, and then a layer of meat, and so on alternately till the dish is filled, ending with potatoes. Bake it in an oven for an hour.

BEEF RAGOUT.

Is there, then, that o’er his French ragout,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornful view,
On sic a dinner?
Burns.

Take a rump of beef, cut the meat from the bone, flour and fry it, pour over it a little boiling water, about a pint of small-beer, add a carrot or two, an onion stuck with cloves, some whole pepper, salt, a piece of lemon-peel, a bunch of sweet herbs; let it stew an hour, then add some good gravy; when the meat is tender take it out and strain the sauce; thicken it with a little flour; add a little celery ready boiled, a little ketchup, put in the meat; just simmer it up.

BEEF KIDNEYS.

Or one’s kidney,—imagine, Dick,—done with champagne.
Moore.

Having soaked a fresh kidney in cold water and dried it in a cloth, cut it into mouthfuls, and then mince it fine; dust it with flour. Put some butter into a stewpan over a moderate fire, and when it boils put in the minced kidneys. When you have browned it in the butter, sprinkle on a little salt and cayenne, and pour in a very little boiling water. Add a glass of champagne, or other wine, or a large teaspoonful of mushroom ketchup or walnut pickle; cover the pan closely, and let it stew till the kidney is tender. Send it to table hot, in a covered dish. It is eaten generally at breakfast.

BROILED BEEFSTEAKS.

Time was, when John Bull little difference spied
’Twixt the foe at his feet or the friend at his side;
When he found, such his humor in fighting and eating,
His foe, like beefsteak, the sweeter for beating.
Moore.

If it were done, when ’tis done, then ’twere well,
It were done quickly.
Shakspeare.

Cut the steaks off a rump or the ribs of a fore quarter. Have the gridiron perfectly clean, and heated over a clear quick fire, lay on the steaks, and with meat-tongs, keep turning them constantly, till they are done enough; throw a little salt over them before taking them off the fire. Serve as hot as possible, plain or with a made gravy and sliced onions, or rub a bit of butter on the steaks the moment of serving. Mutton-chops are broiled in the same manner.

SCOTCH HAGGIS.

Fair fa’ your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race;
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm,
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As langs my arm.
His knife see rustic labor dight,
An’ cut you up with ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrail bright
Like onie ditch,
And then, O! what a glorious sight,
Warm reekin’ rich.
Ye powers wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies,
But if ye wish her grateful pray’r,
Gie her a Haggis.
Burns.

Make the haggis bag perfectly clean; parboil the draught, boil the liver very well, so as it will grate, dry the meal before the fire, mince the draught and a pretty large piece of beef, very small; grate about half the liver, mince plenty of the suet and some onions small; mix all these materials very well together with a handful or two of the dried meal; spread them on the table, and season them properly with salt and mixed spices; take any of the scraps of beef that are left from mincing, and some of the water that boiled the draught, and make about a choppin (i. e. a quart) of good stock of it; then put all the haggis meat into the bag, and that broth in it; then sew up the bag; put out all the wind before you sew it quite close. If you think the bag is thin, you may put it in a cloth.

If it is a large haggis, it will take at least two hours boiling.

N. B. The above is a receipt from Mrs. MacIver, a celebrated Caledonian professor of the culinary art, who taught and published a book of cookery, at Edinburgh, A. D. 1787.

SALT BEEF.

The British fleet, which now commands the main,
Might glorious wreaths of victory obtain,
Would they take time, would they with leisure work,
With care would salt their beef, and cure their pork.
There is no dish, but what our cooks have made
And merited a charter by their trade.
King.

Make a pickle of rock salt and cold water strong enough to bear an egg, let a little salt remain in the bottom of the tub; two quarts of molasses and a quarter pound of saltpetre is sufficient for a cwt. of beef. It is fit for use in ten days. Boil the beef slowly until the bones come out easily, then wrap it in a towel, and put a heavy weight on it till cold.

TO PICKLE TONGUES FOR BOILING.

Silence is commendable only
In a neat’s tongue dried.
Shakspeare.

Cut off the root, leaving a little of the kernel and fat. Sprinkle some salt, and let it drain till next day; then for each tongue, mix a large spoonful of common salt, the same of coarse sugar, and about half as much of saltpetre; rub it well in, and do so every day. In a week add another heaped spoonful of salt. If rubbed every day, a tongue will be ready in a fortnight; but if only turned in the pickle daily, it will keep four or five weeks without being too salt. Smoke them or plainly dry them, if you like best. When to be dressed, boil it extremely tender; allow five hours, and if done sooner, it is easily kept hot. The longer kept after drying, the higher it will be; if hard, it may require soaking three or four hours.

ROASTED CALF’S LIVER.

Pray a slice of your liver.
Goldsmith.

Wash and wipe it, then cut a long hole in it, and stuff it with crumbs of bread, chopped, an anchovy, a good deal of fat bacon, onion, salt, pepper, a bit of butter, and an egg; sew the liver up, lard it, wrap it in a veal caul, and roast it. Serve with good brown gravy and currant jelly.

SCOTCH COLLOPS.

A cook has mighty things professed;
Then send us but two dishes nicely dressed,—
One called Scotch Collops.
King.

Cut veal in thin bits, about three inches over and rather round, beat with a rolling-pin; grate a little nutmeg over them; dip in the yolk of an egg, and fry them in a little butter of a fine brown; have ready, warm, to pour upon them, half a pint of gravy, a little bit of butter rubbed into a little flour, to which put the yolk of an egg, two large spoonfuls of cream, and a little salt.

Do not boil the sauce, but stir until of a fine thickness to serve with the collops.

STEWED FILLET OF VEAL.

In truth, I’m confounded
And bothered, my dear, ’twixt that troublesome boy’s
(Bob’s) cookery language, and Madame Le Roi’s.
What with fillets of roses and fillets of veal,
Things garni with lace, and things garni with eel,
One’s hair and one’s cutlets both en papillote,
And a thousand more things I shall ne’er have by rote.
Moore.

Bone, lard, and stuff a fillet of veal; half roast and then stew it with two quarts of white stock, a teaspoonful of lemon pickle, and one of mushroom ketchup. Before serving strain the gravy, thicken it with butter rolled in flour, add a little cayenne, salt, and some pickled mushrooms; heat it and pour it over the veal. Have ready two or three dozen forcemeat balls to put round it and upon the top. Garnish with cut lemon.

CALF’S HEAD SURPRISED.

And the dish set before them,—O dish well devised!—
Was what Old Mother Glasse calls “a calf’s head surprised.”
Moore.

Clean and blanch a calf’s head, boil it till the bones will come out easily, then bone and press it between two dishes, so as to give it a headlong form; beat it with the yolks of four eggs, a little melted butter, pepper and salt. Divide the head when cold, and brush it all over with the beaten eggs, and strew over it grated bread, which is put over one half; a good quantity of finely minced parsley should be mixed; place the head upon a dish, and bake it of a nice brown color. Serve it with a sauce of parsley and butter, and with one of good gravy, mixed with the brains, which have been previously boiled, chopped, and seasoned with a little cayenne and salt.

CALF’S HEAD ROASTED.

Good L—d! to see the various ways
Of dressing a calf’s head.
Shenstone.

Wash and clean it well, parboil it, take out the bones, brains, and tongue; make forcemeat sufficient for the head, and some balls with breadcrumbs, minced suet, parsley, grated ham, and a little pounded veal or cold fowl; season with salt, grated nutmeg, and lemon-peel; bind it with an egg beaten up; fill the head with it, which must then be sewed up, or fastened with skewers and tied; while roasting baste it well with butter; beat up the brains with a little cream, the yolk of an egg, some minced parsley, a little pepper and salt; blanch the tongue and cut it into slices, and fry it with the brains, forcemeat balls, and thin slices of bacon.

Serve the head with white or brown thickened gravy, and place the tongue and forcemeat balls round it. Garnish with cut lemon. It will require one hour and a half to roast.

SALMIS OF WILD DUCK.

Long as, by bayonets protected, we Watties
May have our full fling at their salmis and patÉs.
Moore.

Cut off the best parts of a couple of roasted wild ducks, and put the rest of the meat into a mortar, with six shallots, a little parsley, some pepper, and a bay leaf; pound all these ingredients well, and then put into a saucepan, with four ladlesful of stock, half a glass of white wine, the same of broth, and a little grated nutmeg; reduce these to half, strain them, and having laid the pieces on a dish, cover them with the above; keep the whole hot, not boiling, until wanted for table.

STEWED DUCK AND PEAS.

I give thee all my kitchen lore,
Though poor the offering be;
I’ll tell thee how ’tis cooked, before
You come to dine with me.
The duck is truss’d from head to heels,
Then stew’d with butter well,
And streaky bacon, which reveals
A most delicious smell.

When duck and bacon, in a mass,
You in a stewpan lay,
A spoon around the vessel pass,
And gently stir away;
A tablespoonful of flour bring,
A quart of water plain,
Then in it twenty onions fling,
And gently stir again.

A bunch of parsley, and a leaf
Of ever verdant bay,
Two cloves,—I make my language brief,—
Then add your peas you may;
And let it simmer till it sings
In a delicious strain;
Then take your duck, nor let the strings
For trussing it remain.

The parsley fail not to remove,
Also the leaf of bay;
Dish up your duck,—the sauce improve
In the accustom’d way,
With pepper, salt, and other things
I need not here explain;
And if the dish contentment brings,
You’ll dine with me again.

FOWL À LA HOLLANDAISE.

Our courtier walks from dish to dish,
Tastes from his friends of fowl and fish,
Tells all their names, lays down the law,
“Que Ça est bon.” “Ah! goutez Ça.”
Pope.

Make a forcemeat of grated bread, half its quantity of minced suet, an onion, or a few oysters and some boiled parsley, season with pepper, salt, and grated lemon-peel, and an egg beaten up to bind it. Bone the breast of a good sized young fowl, put in the forcemeat, cover the fowl with a piece of white paper buttered, and roast it half an hour; make a thick batter of flour, milk, and eggs, take off the paper, and pour some of the batter over the fowl; as soon as it becomes dry, add more, and do this till it is all crusted over and a nice brown color, serve it with melted butter and lemon pickle, or a thickened brown gravy.

BOILED TURKEY.

But man, cursed man, on turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days.
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine.
From the low peasant to the lord,
The turkey smokes on every board.
Gay.

Make a stuffing of bread, salt, pepper, nutmeg, lemon-peel, a few oysters, a bit of butter, some suet, and an egg; put this into the crop, fasten up the skin, and boil the turkey in a floured cloth to make it very white. Have ready some oyster sauce made rich with butter, a little cream, and a spoonful of soy, and serve over the turkey.

DEVILLED TURKEY.

And something’s here with name uncivil,
For our cook christens it “A Devil,”
“A Devil, in any shape, sweet maid,
A parson fears not,” Syntax said;
“I’ll make him minced meat; ’tis my trade.”

Take cold roast turkey legs, score them well, season them with salt and plenty of cayenne pepper and mustard, then broil them. Serve them hot.

CAPON.

In good roast beef my landlord sticks his knife,
The capon fat delights his dainty wife.
Gay.

Take a quart of white wine, season the capon with salt, cloves, and whole pepper, a few shallots, and then put the capon in an earthen pan; you must take care it has not room to shake; it must be covered close, and done over a slow charcoal fire.

CHICKEN CROQUETTES.

Gargilius, sleek, voluptuous lord,
A hundred dainties smoke upon his board;
Earth, air, and ocean ransack’d for the feast,
In masquerade of foreign olios dress’d.
Warton.

Reduce two spoonfuls of veloute or sauce tournÉe, and add to the yolks of four eggs; put to this the white meat of a chicken, minced very small, and well mixed with the sauce; take it out, and roll it into balls, about the size of a walnut; roll them in breadcrumbs, giving them an elongated form; then beat them in some well-beaten egg; bread them again, and fry them of a light brown.

LEG OF MUTTON.

But hang it, to poets, who seldom can eat,
Your very good mutton’s a very good treat.
Goldsmith.

Cut off the shank bone, and trim the knuckle, put it into lukewarm water for ten minutes, wash it clean, cover it with cold water, and let it simmer very gently, and skim it carefully; a leg of nine pounds will take two and a half or three hours, if you like it thoroughly done, especially in very cold weather.

The liquor the mutton is boiled in, you may convert into good soup in five minutes, and Scotch barley broth. Thus managed, a leg of mutton is a most economical joint.

TO CURE HAMS.

Or urged thereunto by the woes he endured,
The way to be smoked, is the way to be cured.
Anonymous.

But to the fading palate bring relief,
By the Westphalian ham or Belgic beef.
King.

When the weather will permit, hang the ham three days; mix an ounce of saltpetre with one quarter of a pound of bay salt, ditto common salt, ditto of coarsest sugar, and a quart of strong beer; boil them together, and pour over immediately on the ham; turn it twice a day in the pickle for three weeks. An ounce of black pepper, ditto of pimento in finest powder, added to the above, will give still more flavor. Cover with bran when wiped, and smoke from three to four weeks, as you approve; the latter will make it harder, and more of the flavor of Westphalia. Sew hams in hessings, i. e. coarse wrapper, if to be smoked where there is a strong fire.

HAM PIES.

Each mortal has his pleasure; none deny
Scarsdale his bottle, Darby his ham pie.
Dodsley.

Take two pounds of veal cutlets, cut them in middling sized pieces, season with pepper and a very little salt; likewise one of raw or dressed ham, cut in slices, lay it alternately in the dish, and put some forced or sausage meat at the top, with some stewed mushrooms, and the yolks of three eggs boiled hard, and a gill of water; then proceed as with rumpsteak pie.

N. B. The best end of a neck is the fine part for a pie, cut into chops, and the chine bone taken away.

ROASTED HARE.

Turkey and fowl, and ham and chine,
On which the cits prefer to dine,
With partridge, too, and eke a Hare,
The luxuries of country fare,
She nicely cooked with bounteous care.

Cut the skin from a hare that has been well soaked, put it on the spit, and rub it well with Madeira, pricking it in various places that it may imbibe plenty of wine; cover it entirely with a paste, and roast it. When done, take away the paste, rub it quickly over with egg, sprinkle breadcrumbs, and baste it gently with butter (still keeping it turning before the fire), until a crust is formed over it, and it is of a nice brown color; dish it over some espagnole with Madeira wine boiled in it; two or three cloves may be stuck into the knuckles, if you think proper.

FRICASEED RABBITS.

Your rabbits fricaseed and chicken,
With curious choice of dainty picking,
Each night got ready at the Crown,
With port and punch to wash ’em down.
Lloyd.

Take two fine white rabbits, and cut them in pieces; blanch them in boiling water, and skim them for one minute; stir a few trimmings of mushrooms in a stewpan over the fire, with a bit of butter, till it begins to fry, then stir in a spoonful of flour; mix into the flour, a little at a time, nearly a quart of good consommÉ, which set on the fire, and when it boils put the rabbits in, and let them boil gently till done; then put them in another stewpan, and reduce the sauce till nearly as thick as paste; mix in about half a pint of good boiling cream, and when it becomes the thickness of bechamelle sauce in general, squeeze it through the tammy to the rabbits; make it very hot, put in a few mushrooms, the yolk of an egg, a little cream, and then serve it to table.

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