XXIII. JELLIES.

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In this country culinary skill seems to run to sweet rather than to savory cooking; very few housekeepers but make excellent preserves and cakes, yet the list of sweet dishes manufactured at home is very limited; as soon as anything not in this category is required the caterer is applied to, and he has his list of water-ices, cream-ices, and mÉringues, with very little variation; sometimes, indeed, a new name appears on the list, but it turns out to be some old friend with a new garnish, or put in a different mould and given an alluring name. There are many delicious sweet dishes not difficult to make when once the processes of making jelly and of freezing are understood (and very many who do not pretend to be good cooks are expert at these two things), and others which do not require even that ability. To put a sweet dish on the table, however, in perfection, especially if it be an iced one, requires the utmost care and skill; the slightest carelessness in packing a frozen pudding, any delay between removing it from the ice and getting it on the dish, will destroy that dull, marble-like appearance it ought to wear when first it makes its entry, although it will gleam with melting sweetness long before it reaches the partakers. Happily there are many delightful sweets which are beautiful in appearance and less depending on atmosphere than any of the family of ices. The simplest of these are fruit jellies.

I spoke just now of the art of making jelly, and many readers may think in using such a term for so simple a thing I am exaggerating, and perhaps “art” is hardly the word, yet there is a daintiness and nicety in making jelly which almost deserves the term.

However, before talking of how sweet dishes are to be made it is necessary to provide the means by which they are to be redeemed from the commonplace of mere richness and sweetness. The flavorings and liqueurs keep indefinitely if well corked. Orange-flower water, it is true, will lose strength, but when a bottle is first opened, if it is poured off into small vials, and each one corked and sealed, it will keep its original strength. The following list of articles kept in store will enable a cook to give her cakes, creams, etc., just that “foreign” flavor that home products so often lack: almonds, almond paste, candied cherries, candied angelica, candied orange, lemon, and citron peels, pistachio-nuts, orange-flower water, rose-water, prepared cochineal, maraschino, ratafia, lemons, extract of vanilla, and sherry.

Several of these things are used principally for decoration; for instance, the candied cherries and angelica and the pistachio-nuts. Consequently, unless the cherries and angelica are required for dessert (to which they are a showy and delicious addition), a quarter of a pound at a time is all that need be bought. Very likely in small cities or country places these latter articles may not be obtainable. But they are sold at the large city caterers’, also at the stores which deal in French crystallized fruits—not French candy stores—and can always be sent by mail.

The vanilla should be of the finest quality, and had better be bought by the ounce or half-pint from the druggist than from the grocer. There are good extracts put up, no doubt, but very many of them are largely made of tonka-bean, the flavor familiar in cheap ice-cream, in place of the more expensive vanilla.

In the recipes that will be given the directions will be as minute as possible; but to prescribe the number of drops required to flavor a quart of cream would be utterly impossible, the strength of the flavoring used differing so greatly, even in lemons. Sometimes the juice of half a lemon will be right for a certain thing, at another the juice of a quarter of one would be too much. This is where judgment must be exercised. If you have a very juicy lemon, although your recipe says the juice of half, you will remember that the average lemon would not yield nearly so much, and that the author had the average lemon in mind. This applies to all flavoring. Sometimes extract of bitter almond is so strong that even a drop would be too much to impart the faint almond flavor which alone is tolerable. In this case the thing to do for fear of spoiling the dish is to pour a half-dozen drops in a teaspoonful of water, and use from that, drop by drop, until the faint flavor desired is attained. In using any flavoring, great care must be taken not to put too much, as anything in the least over-flavored is offensive.

Mould of Apple Jelly.—Peel and cut up a pound of fine-flavored apples (to weigh a pound after preparation); put them in a stewpan with three ounces of granulated sugar, half a pint of water, and the juice and grated rind of a lemon. When cooked to a pulp, pass through a strainer, and stir in one ounce of gelatine that has been dissolved in a gill of water. Color half the apple with about half a teaspoonful of cochineal, and fill a border mould with alternate layers of the colored and uncolored apple. When cold, turn out and serve with half a pint of cream whipped solid and piled in the centre.

There is a great difference in the solidity of whipped cream. Sometimes it will be a mere froth that shows a disposition to liquefy, and cannot be piled up. When this is the case there is always a great waste of cream, for at least half will have been left as a milky residue. The reason for this failure of the cream to whip solid is generally because it is too fresh or too warm.

If in proper condition, cream will whip as solid as white of eggs, and leave not a teaspoonful of liquid at the bottom of the bowl; nor will there be the least danger of cream so whipped going back to liquid. It will become sour, but not change its form; and it will take but a few minutes to beat.

Cream intended for whipping should be twenty-four hours old in warm weather, and thirty-six in winter. It should also be thoroughly chilled, and if the day is very warm it would be better to set the bowl containing it on ice while whipping it. Put in the whip, or egg-beater, and do not lift the froth off as it rises; it is quite unnecessary if the vessel you use for the cream is large enough. As you see it begin to thicken, which will be after steady beating for five or six minutes, keep on just as you would for white of eggs. When the beater is withdrawn you should be able to cut the cream or pile it any height. If by reason of excessive heat it is slow in reaching the proper consistency, leave the beater in the bowl, and set the whole on the ice until very cold again.

The consistency of jelly should be only just stiff enough to keep form. It should shake and tremble while being served instead of remaining solid. It requires some little practice to make sure of this every time, although exact proportions be given. A tablespoonful difference in the pint or gill measure would, where the gelatine is only just enough, cause the jelly to “squat”—not an elegant term, but one that represents the form of a too soft jelly.

A very exact recipe for plain claret jelly, and which in proportions serves for any other unless special mention is made of some variation, is as follows: Three quarters of a pint of water, one pint of claret, a quarter of a pint of lemon juice (this makes one quart of liquid), the rind of one lemon, half an inch of cinnamon in the stick and two cloves, one tablespoonful of red currant jelly, two ounces of gelatine, the whites and shells of two eggs, a few drops of cochineal, and four ounces of sugar; put all in a stewpan, the gelatine having been softened in a little of the water; whisk over the fire until the whole boils; then draw it off, let it stand for five to ten minutes; strain through flannel or fine linen without pressure, add a few drops of cochineal to brighten the color, and mould for use.

Use great care in selecting cinnamon, for very much that is sold is not the true spice, but a cheaper one (cassia) that resembles it. Cinnamon has a bright tan-color, is rolled many times, and is not much thicker than paper when a piece is unrolled. Cassia is thicker in the roll, a dull brown, and if a piece is broken is like a piece of wood. It is similar in flavor, but much coarser, and has little strength.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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