This little book does not pretend to go into what may be called the principles of cooking, except in so far as they are involved in the production of all choice cookery; and where it is considered that a principle is little known or too little attended to, the effort will be made to give it emphasis by reiteration here.

By principles of cooking I mean the simple rules by which roasting, boiling, stewing, etc., are successfully accomplished. Any book or series of articles written a dozen years ago would have been of no real use without these rudiments, but within that period there have been cooking-schools started and cookery books written so exceedingly exact in directions that it will be unnecessary to repeat them in “Choice Cookery,” which does not pretend to include family cooking.

For this reason the cooking of joints of meat will not be entered into. Nevertheless there are certain rudiments of cooking which are not dwelt on usually in books. They are taught in the cooking-schools, and those of my readers who have had the advantage of attending them will not need the instruction here given. But I meet with many women who devote much time to the art of cooking, and who have taught themselves by book and experiment all they know, who yet, when told to chop a small quantity of herbs very fine, will struggle and chop almost leaf by leaf in their faithful endeavor to carry out the direction. Others, less faithful, finding their method chops some parts fine and leaves some leaves almost whole, let it go at that, with the reflection that “that must do, as it would take all day” to get them all one degree of fineness. So, although it may seem almost too trivial a point to need mention, we will go into the matter of herb-chopping, lemon-grating, etc., that the simple operations may be performed easily and in a very short time.

To Chop Herbs.—Use the leaves only, never the stems; let them be fresh and crisp, or, if wilted, leave them in water for a time. Gather the leaves firmly between the thumb and three fingers of the left hand; shave them through with a sharp knife as you push them forward under it. (The process resembles chaff-cutting by hand machine.) Turn them round; gather them up again, and cut across them in the same way; then finish by chopping quickly, holding the point of the knife with the left hand and bringing it down on the little heap of herbs with the right, always gathering them together as fast as the chopping scatters them. Five minutes will chop a tablespoonful of mint or parsley almost to pulp. A sharp steel knife and a small board must be used, not the chopping-bowl.French books often direct so much fine herbs to be used; English books mean the same thing when they call for “sweet herbs,” and a mixture of one part marjoram, two parts thyme, and three parts parsley is meant by both.

The grating of a lemon is a most simple operation, and it may seem that every one must know how to do it; but this is far from being the case. As many dishes of curdled custards and sauces are caused by this fact, the right way in this case is very important. The object of using grated rind of lemon is to obtain the fragrance and flavor, which differ very greatly from any extracts, however good. Now the whole of the oil which contains this fragrance is at the surface—is, in fact, the yellow portion of the rind; therefore this, and only this, must be removed with the grater. The white part underneath is bitter, and will cause milk or cream to curdle, but it contains no particle of lemon flavor. Yet when lemon flavor is called for the lemon is often grated right down to the pulp in parts, while the yellow rind is left on in patches.

A lemon should be grated evenly, beginning at the end and working round it, using as small a surface of the grater as possible, to prevent waste. The habit of turning the lemon as you grate comes as easily as to turn an apple under the knife when peeling. Generally twice across the grater and back between each turn will remove all the essential oil, but, while guarding against grating too deeply, care must be taken to remove the whole of the yellow surface. A well-grated lemon should be exactly of the same shape as before, have no deep scores into the pith, and have an oily-looking surface.

Perhaps before proceeding to the preparation of the combination dishes known as made dishes or entrÉes, a few words may be useful to those readers whose ambition to accomplish results may cause them to defeat their own ends. To such I would say, go slowly; never attempt the more difficult thing until the simpler one is beyond chance of failure. Thus in following the instructions in this book the wiser women will have accomplished, perhaps, each week one or two things they may have selected, and it must not be forgotten the plan of the work is that one recipe shall serve as a key to many others.

A great many will very likely have delayed trying to make the sauces until the dish for which they will be required is given. This is a mistake, because it is less annoying to fail with a sauce with no dish depending on it, than, say, when you have decided to have sole À la Villeroi, the soles being ready, and fail with the sauce.

I hope that no failure will come to any one trying the recipes here given, but in some cases, especially in sauces thickened with eggs, a second’s diverted attention may cause failure without fault of the cook. Therefore it is best to make single experiments when there is no danger of being disturbed, and when there is nothing else to be attended to. The successful result need never be lost, for in the case of sauces they can be reheated the next day in a bain-marie, or pan of hot water; the same with the soups, and, indeed, most other things, except soufflÉes and omelets.

But, above all things, never try a recipe for the first time the day you wish it to appear perfect on your table; try it long before, and if you fail, make the same thing over again, reading the directions very carefully; some trifling caution or precaution may have escaped you. No one ever learns to draw so simple a thing as a circle who is discouraged at the first bad curve, and leaves it for easier lines. Keep on at the thing you select to do until you succeed, always choosing and perfecting the easiest thing in each class first.