CHAPTER VIII
A POTATO LUNCH
"I'M so relieved," said Mary Frances with a sigh.
"Now, I can hurry along the Potato Lunch."
"Yes," chimed in Mantel Clock, "it's quarter past eleven. You have only three-quarters of an hour."
"That's so!" said Mary Frances. "The next recipe is:
No. 5.—Baked Potatoes.
1. Choose potatoes of the same size—rather large.
2. Scrub well, and wipe.
3. Bake in a hot oven from 30 to 45 minutes, or until soft when pressed between thumb and fingers.
4. Roll each between the fingers: this makes them mealy.
5. Serve on a napkin.
"Why, I won't need to pare those! I'll put two of these I've washed in the oven. The oven's grand and hot!
"Let me see,—will all the others need paring?
"Yes," she laughed, "I didn't notice the heading of the chapter before——
"'Potatoes Without Jackets,'"
No. 6.—Boiled Potatoes.
1. Wash potatoes.
2. Pare, throwing into cold water.
3. Drain; cover with boiling water, allowing 1 tablespoon salt to every twelve potatoes.
4. Let boil ½ hour, or until the largest is soft when pierced with a fork.
5. Drain off all the water.
6. Shake over fire, or place on back of stove to dry off the potatoes.
No. 7.—Mashed Potatoes.
1. Boil potatoes. Drain; dry off.
2. Mash in pan in which they were cooked.
3. For every cupful, add
| 1 dash pepper, |
| 1 saltspoon salt, |
| ½ tablespoon butter (scant). |
4. For every cupful, heat 2 tablespoons milk.
5. Throw the heated milk on potatoes.
6. Beat with a wire fork until creamy.
7. Pile lightly on a hot dish. Serve uncovered.
Note.—Remember that all measurements are level or even with the top. To divide a spoonful, cut it through the middle lengthwise, for a half; and across that, for one-quarter of a spoonful.
No. 8.—Potato Soup.
Place on the table:
| 3 freshly boiled potatoes |
| 1 onion |
| butter |
| parsley |
| flour dredger |
| pepper |
| salt |
| 1 pint milk (2 cups) |
1. Put the milk in the upper part of a double boiler, half filling the under part with boiling water.
2. Throw in 2 slices of onion, and put double boiler on the stove for 10 minutes.
3. Mash potatoes and add to the hot milk.
4. Add 1 teaspoon salt and a dash of pepper.
5. Put through a wire strainer, rubbing the potatoes through with a spoon.
6. Put into double boiler and place on stove.
7. Melt 1 tablespoon butter in a little pan.
8. Throw into it ½ tablespoon flour. Stir well.
9. Dip a little of the hot milk on this, stirring well, then pour into the soup.
10. Let boil 10 minutes.
11. Add 1 tablespoon chopped parsley. If too thick, add hot water or milk.
12. Serve very hot.
"Oh, I know how to cook boiled potatoes! They're just like jacket-boiled, only they have their jackets off," she cried.
"Why, certainly," exclaimed Boiler Pan, which she had put on the stove half full of water, "I know my part—I just hurry them right along in a jiffy."
He looked so interested that Mary Frances laughed as she dropped the potatoes in.
"Are they all to be boi—boiled?" stuttered the bubbling Boiler Pan.
"Yes," said Mary Frances, "all except those I put in the oven. Listen! I'll tell you the menu for Billy's Potato Lunch. We'll begin, of course, with soup—Potato Soup."
"'Purée' is the word for thick soups," suggested Boiler Pan. "It seems more stylish, don't you think?"
"Yes, indeed!" said Mary Frances. "I do believe I'll write a card for each of us to have at our places at the table!" and she quickly brought her school pad from her desk.
Then she wrote:
Menu
Billy's Potato Lunch
Purée of Potato
Potatoes-in-the-Shell
Cold Meat Mashed Potatoes
Sliced Bananas with Cream
Milk
"That 'Potato-in-the-Shell' sounds 'swell,'" said Coffee Pot, "but it seems to me you ought to have something to drink, like coffee, or something of that kind."
"Oh, that's true," Mary Frances replied, "but I don't know how to make coffee, and Mother said I must make everything in the order it came in my book——"
"Won't you look to see if my turn doesn't come soon?" interrupted Coffee Pot.
"Not to-day," Mary Frances shook her head. "To-day we have milk.
"Why, to-morrow!" as she looked in her book. "Isn't that fine! But—those potatoes must be done. I should think so! A minute more, and they'd have been burned!" she said as she drained off the water.
"Now, ready for the masher!"
"Quite ready," said a little voice, and Mary Frances was not surprised to see Potato Masher tumble over the edge of Boiler Pan as she put him on the table.
"Push my head down hard!" said he in a thick, mushy voice, and Mary Frances did as he directed.
Suddenly Potato Masher stopped work.
"How will you know how much potato to put into the soup?" he asked.
"Why," said Mary Frances, "there were only six boiled ones altogether, so the three for the soup will be just half."
"Pretty good, pretty good for a little girl just learning to cook," Potato Masher said, and ducked his head into the potatoes again.
When they were finished Mary Frances said:
"You know so much about potatoes, perhaps you can sit right up on that box," pointing to the sugar box, "and tell me when I make a mistake. I'm going to do 'xactly as my book says—you cry out, 'Stop!' when I do anything the wrong way."
"It—will—be—the—day—of—my—life—ever—to—be—remembered—"
Potato Masher ran his words together clumsily—"But I should be very much obliged to you if you would first wash my face."
"Why, certainly," said Mary Frances. "I didn't like to suggest it."
"Thank you kindly, Miss. 'Tis a pleasure to serve you," said the little fellow, as he perched himself on the sugar box, when Mary Frances brought him back to the table.
"All ready?" asked the little girl.
"Class proceed!" said Potato Masher, with a school teacher air.
Only twice did he interrupt her as she followed every direction given in the recipes: once, to remind her of the potatoes in the oven; and again, to tell her to pour the soup very slowly, lest she burn herself.
"It's mag-nif-i-cent!—this Potato Lunch," said he, as Mary Frances carried the last smoking dish to the dining table. "'Tis a proud day for the 'Assistant Chef'—meaning myself."
He made a pompous little bow toward the Kitchen Folks.
"I little thought she'd be on time. I was afraid I'd have to strike before she was ready," declared Mantel Clock, beginning to strike twelve just as Billy came in.
"Menus!" exclaimed the boy.
"Jimminy! 'Billy's Potato Lunch,'" he read. "Oh, I say—if I'd known I'd have dressed for the occasion!"
"Don't make fun, Billy," begged Mary Frances.
"'Make fun,'" cried Billy. "Just taste that soup—and see if anyone could make fun. It's fit for the President."
"Oh—Billy!" Mary Frances laughed.
"Maybe you think I don't mean it," said Billy, helping himself to mashed potatoes. "Why didn't you invite some company?"
"I didn't know that Potato Masher—I mean, I didn't know it would turn out so well," blushed Mary Frances.
"Invite somebody—can't I bring Bob and Eleanor over some day soon to lunch?"
"Yes,'" said Mary Frances, "if Aunt Maria——"
"Oh, by the way," said Billy "I 'most forgot! Aunt Maria had word her brother is sick at Upland, and she went to see him this morning, and can't possibly be back in time for breakfast. I guessed we'd make out O. K. I told her—I was thinking of our lunches, you know."
"Billy—really?" asked Mary Frances, "but I'm sorry for Aunt Maria's brother."
