Common Sense in the Household 16

Common Sense in the Household 16

BEEF-STEAK.

 

It is not customary to fry beef-steaks for people who know what

really good cookery is. To speak more plainly, a steak, _killed_ by

heat and swimming in grease, is a culinary solecism, both vulgar and

indigestible.

 

Cut the steak thick, at least three-quarters of an inch in thickness,

and if you cannot get tender meat for this purpose, it is best to

substitute some other dish for it. But since tender meat is not always

to be had, if the piece you have purchased is doubtful, lay it on a

clean cloth, take a blunt heavy carving-knife, if you have not a steak

mallet, and hack _closely_ from one end to the other; then turn and

repeat the process upon the other side. The knife should be so dull

you cannot cut with it, and the strokes not the sixtieth part of an

inch apart. Wipe all over on both sides with _lemon-juice_, cover, and

leave it in a cool place for one hour. Lay on a buttered gridiron over

a clear fire, turning very often as it begins to drip. Do not season

until it is done, which will be in about twelve minutes, if the fire

is good and the cook attentive. Rub your hot chafing dish with a split

raw onion, lay in the steak, salt and pepper on both sides, and put a

liberal lump of butter upon the upper. Then put on a hot cover, and

let it stand five minutes to draw the juices to the surface before it

is eaten. If you have neither chafing-dish nor cover, lay the steak

between two hot platters for the same time, sending to table without

uncovering. A gridiron fitting _under_ the grate is better than any

other. If a gridiron is not at hand, rub a little butter upon the

bottom of a hot, clean frying-pan, put in the meat, set over a bright

fire, and turn frequently. This will not be equal to steak cooked upon

a gridiron, but it is infinitely preferable to the same fried.

 

I shall never forget the wondering distrust with which my first cook,

a sable “professional,” watched me when I undertook to show her how

to prepare a steak for the third breakfast over which I presided as

mistress of ceremonies. And when, at the end of twelve minutes, I

removed the meat, “rare and hot,” to the heated dish in readiness, her

sniff of lofty contempt was as eloquent as indescribable.

 

“Call dat _cooked_! Folks ’bout here would ’a had dat steak on by

day-break!”

 

A remark that has been recalled to my mind hundreds of times since at

the tables of so-called capital housewives.

 

The best—nay, the only pieces for steak are those known as porter-house

and sirloin. The former is the more highly esteemed by gourmands; but

a really tender sirloin is more serviceable where there are several

persons in the family, the porter-house having a narrow strip of

extremely nice meat lying next the bone, while the rest is often

inferior to any part of the sirloin. If the meat be tender omit the

hacking process and lemon-juice.

 

 

BEEF-STEAK AND ONIONS.

 

Prepare the steak as above directed. While it is broiling put three

or four chopped onions in a frying-pan with a little beef-dripping or

butter. Stir and shake them briskly until they are done, and begin to

brown. Dish your steak and lay the onions thickly on top. Cover and

let all stand five or six minutes, that the hot onions may impart the

required flavor to the hot meat. In helping your guests, inquire if

they will take onions with the slices of steak put upon their plates. I

need hardly remind the sensible cook how necessary it is to withdraw

the gridiron from the fire for an instant, should the fat drip upon

the coals below, and smoke or blaze. Yet those who have eaten steaks

flavored with creosote may thank me for the suggestion.

 

 

BEEF À-LA-MODE. ✠

 

Take a round of beef; remove the bone from the middle, and trim away

the tougher bits about the edges, with such gristle, &c., as you can

reach. Set these aside for soup-stock.

 

Bind the beef into a symmetrical shape by passing a strip of stout

muslin, as wide as the round is high, about it, and stitching the

ends together at one side. Have ready at least a pound of fat salt

pork, cut into strips as thick as your middle finger, and long enough

to reach from top to bottom of the trussed round. Put a half pint of

vinegar over the fire in a tin or porcelain saucepan; season with

three or four minced shallots or button onions, two teaspoonfuls made

mustard, a teaspoonful nutmeg, one of cloves, half as much allspice,

half-spoonful black pepper, with a bunch of sweet herbs minced fine,

and a tablespoonful brown sugar. Let all simmer for five minutes, then

boil up once, and pour, while scalding hot, upon the strips of pork,

which should be laid in a deep dish. Let all stand together until

cold. Remove the pork to a plate, and mix with the liquor left in the

dish enough bread-crumbs to make a tolerably stiff force-meat. If the

vinegar is very strong, dilute with a little water before moistening

the crumbs. With a long, thin-bladed knife, make perpendicular

incisions in the meat, not more than half an inch apart, even nearer is

better; thrust into these the strips of fat pork, so far down that the

upper ends are just level with the surface, and work into the cavities

with them a little of the force-meat. Proceed thus until the meat is

fairly riddled and plugged with the pork. Fill the hole from which the

bone was taken with the dressing and bits of pork; rub the upper side

of the beef well with the spiced force-meat. Put into a baking-pan;

half-fill this with boiling water; turn a large pan over it to keep

in the steam, and roast slowly for five or six hours, allowing half

an hour to each pound of meat. If the beef be tough, you had better

stew the round by putting it in a pot with half enough cold water to

cover it. Cover tightly and stew very slowly for six hours; then set

in the oven with the gravy about it, and brown half an hour, basting

frequently.

 

If you roast the round, do not remove the cover, except to baste (and

this should be done often), until fifteen minutes before you draw it

from the oven. Set away with the muslin band still about it, and pour

the gravy over the meat.

 

When cold, lift from the gravy,—which, by the way, will be excellent

seasoning for your soup-stock,—cut the stitches in the muslin girdle,

remove carefully and send the meat to table, cold, garnished with

parsley and nasturtium blossoms. Carve horizontally, in slices thin

as a shaving. Do not offer the outside to any one; but the second cut

will be handsomely marbled with the white pork, which appearance should

continue all the way down.

 

I cannot too highly commend this as a side-dish at dinner, and a supper

and breakfast stand-by. In winter it will keep a week and more, and as

long in summer, if kept in the refrigerator—except when it is on the

table.

 

 

BREAKFAST STEW OF BEEF. ✠

 

Cut up two pounds of beef—not too lean—into pieces an inch long; put

them into a saucepan with just enough water to cover them, and stew

gently for two hours. Set away until next morning, when season with

pepper, salt, sweet marjoram or summer savory, chopped onion, and

parsley. Stew half an hour longer, and add a teaspoonful of sauce or

catsup, and a tablespoonful of browned flour wet up with cold water;

finally, if you wish to have it very good, half a glass of wine. Boil

up once, and pour into a covered deep dish.

 

This is an economical dish, for it can be made of the commoner parts

of the beef, and exceedingly nice for winter breakfasts. Eaten with

corn-bread and stewed potatoes, it will soon win its way to a place in

the “stock company” of every judicious housewife.

 

 

ANOTHER BREAKFAST DISH.

 

Cut thin slices of cold roast beef, and lay them in a tin saucepan

set in a pot of boiling water. Cover them with a gravy made of three

tablespoonfuls of melted butter, one of walnut catsup, a teaspoonful

of vinegar, a little salt and pepper, a spoonful of currant jelly, a

teaspoonful made mustard, and some warm water. Cover tightly, and steam

for half an hour, keeping the water in the outer vessel on a hard boil.

 

If the meat is underdone, this is particularly nice.

 

 

BEEF HASH.

 

To two parts cold roast or boiled corned beef, chopped fine, put one of

mashed potatoes, a little pepper, salt, milk, and melted butter. Turn

all into a frying-pan, and stir until it is heated through and smoking

hot, but not until it browns. Put into a deep dish, and if stiff

enough, smooth as you would mashed potato, into a hillock.

 

Or, you can cease stirring for a few minutes, and let a brown crust

form on the under side; then turn out whole into a flat dish, the brown

side uppermost.

 

Or, mould the mixture into flat cakes; dip these in beaten egg flour,

and fry in hot drippings.

 

The remains of beef _à-la-mode_ are very good prepared in any of these

ways. A little catsup and mustard are an improvement to plain cold

beef, thus hashed.

 

 

BEEF-STEAK PIE.

 

Cut the steak into pieces an inch long, and stew with the bone

(cracked) in just enough water to cover the meat until it is half-done.

At the same time parboil a dozen potatoes in another pot. If you wish

a bottom crust—a doubtful question—line a pudding-dish with a good

paste, made according to the receipt given below. Put in a layer of the

beef, with salt and pepper, and a very little chopped onion; then one

of sliced potatoes, with a little butter scattered upon them, and so

on, until the dish is full. Pour over all the gravy in which the meat

is stewed, having first thrown away the bone and thickened with browned

flour. Cover with a crust thicker than the lower, leaving a slit in the

middle.

 

 

CRUST FOR MEAT-PIES. ✠

 

1 quart of flour.

3 tablespoonfuls of lard.

2½ cups milk.

1 teaspoonful of soda wet with hot water, and stirred into the milk.

2 teaspoonfuls of cream-tartar sifted into the dry flour.

1 teaspoonful of salt.

 

Work up very lightly and quickly, and do not get too stiff.

 

If you can get prepared flour, omit the soda and cream-tartar.

 

 

 

BEEF PIE, WITH POTATO CRUST. ✠

 

Mince some rare roast beef or cold corned beef, if it is not too salt;

season with pepper and salt, and spread a layer in the bottom of a

pudding-dish. Over this put one of mashed potato, and stick bits of

butter thickly all over it; then another of meat, and so on until you

are ready for the crust.

 

To a large cupful of mashed potato add two tablespoonfuls of melted

butter, a well-beaten egg, two cups of milk, and beat all together

until very light. Then work in enough flour to enable you to roll

out in a sheet—not too stiff—and, when you have added to the meat

and potato in the dish a gravy made of warm water, butter, milk, and

catsup, with what cold gravy or dripping remains from “roast,” cover

the pie with a thick, tender crust, cutting a slit in the middle.

 

You can use the potato crust, which is very wholesome and good, for any

kind of meat-pie. It looks well brushed over with beaten white of egg before it goes to table.