Stuffed peppers
Make a forcemeat of a tablespoonful of minced ham, one of minced chicken, three chopped mushrooms and a cupful of boiled rice. Make this paste wet by adding to it a chopped tomato and enough melted butter to make it of the right consistency for stuffing. Smooth the stem-ends, cut the blossom-ends from green peppers and take out the seeds and inside fibers. Lay the green shells for three minutes in salted boiling water, then plunge into iced water. Let them lie in this for fifteen minutes. Drain and wipe dry. Fill with the forcemeat, replace the tips, and stand the peppers, side by side, in a dripping-pan containing a quarter of an inch of soup stock. Cook for twenty minutes, basting twice with a little salad oil. When done, stand the peppers on a platter and pour a little salad oil about them.
Peppers stuffed with fish
Trim the stem-ends of your green peppers so that they will stand up. Cut off the tips and, with a small keen knife, extract the seeds and as much of the tough fiber as will come away. Mince white fish fine, moisten it with a white sauce, season and fill the peppers with this mixture. Stand in the oven long enough to heat through, and serve.
Scalloped peppers au gratin
Cut large green peppers in half, lengthwise, extract core and seeds and fill them with minced cold cooked fish, well seasoned, mixed with one-third its weight of fine bread crumbs. The mixture (forcemeat) must be wet with gravy or tomato sauce. Round the contents of the halved pepper in the shape of the missing other half, sprinkle with fine crumbs, and bake to a light brown.
You may use for these scallops of cold chicken, lean lamb or veal. See that you do not get the forcemeat too stiff.
Scalloped peppers on the half-shell
Halve the peppers lengthwise, remove seeds and membrane, and parboil for five minutes. When cold, fill the halves with minced roast beef and fine bread-crumbs moistened with tomato juice. Bake in a covered pan, basting every ten minutes. At the end of a half hour remove to a hot platter and serve with tomato sauce poured over and around the halved peppers.
Peppers and rice
(A Creole dish.)
Cook half a cupful of rice in plenty of boiling water, a little salt, for twenty minutes hard. Drain in a colander and set at the back of the range to dry off. Heap within a deep dish.
Prepare your peppers as already directed. Slice as for frying in the usual way. When you take them from the cold salt and water, fry them in a great spoonful of butter. Lift them from the pan and chop rather coarsely. Add to the hot butter and peppers a teaspoonful of onion juice and two tablespoonfuls of stock. Boil up and pour upon the rice. Set in the oven, covered, for three minutes, and serve.
POKE STALKS
Cut as you would asparagus, when they are but a few inches high. They are then tender and succulent, and are thought by some imaginative vegetarians to resemble the “aristocrat” in flavor.
They are undeniably wholesome—also inexpensive.
Scrape the stalks and lay in cold water for an hour. Tie loosely together with a piece of soft twine, put over the fire with enough salted water to cover them, and boil until tender. Drain, sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and lay upon a platter on slices of buttered toast. Pour white sauce over all.
POTATOES
“The Tyrant Potato” is not assailed ignorantly, nor yet flippantly. After careful study of its properties, its works and its ways, the utmost concession that is now made to peculiar prejudice is in the declaration that, since people will make potatoes nine-tenths of their vegetable diet, it is essential to the national digestion that the ninety-three parts of water and of starch contained in the tuber be cooked in such manner as shall render the esculent as palatable and as little hurtful as is practicable when the constituents are not to be ignored.
The above protest stands at the head of that section of the “National Cook Book” which is headed “Potatoes.” I wrote it ten years ago, and am “of the same opinion still.”
Talk against it as we may, the potato holds its sway in defiance of chemistry and dietetics, and our Johns, one and all, insist upon its daily appearance. As one weary housewife said to me:
“If I give my fingers to be burned in the preparation of a half dozen vegetables and have not potatoes in the number, my culinary and housekeeping skill are as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals—to my husband, at least. And I am so tired of the same old ways of cooking the same old potatoes!”
Her remark made me wonder why housekeepers adhere to the “same old ways.” Why not try new ones?
One hint may be acted upon with advantage to cook and to eaters.
One of the bugbears to the housewife is paring potatoes. It is not a pleasant task, and the necessity of performing it recurs with disagreeable frequency.
The housekeeper is wise if, while the potatoes are in the process of peeling, she pares and cooks more than enough for the repast for which they are intended, and by utilizing the cold left-overs does away with the necessity of peeling more of the tyrannical starch-and-water for the next meal.
A majority of the recipes herewith given are based upon the supposition that she has done this.
New potatoes with cream sauce
(Contributed)
Boil the potatoes in salted water until done. Drain and cover with a white sauce made as follows: Put two tablespoonfuls of butter into a saucepan and when it begins to bubble add two tablespoonfuls of flour; let them cook for one minute, then add one pint of hot milk, season with salt and pepper and a half teaspoonful of chopped parsley.
Potatoes, boiled au natural
Wash, drop into boiling water slightly salted, and cook fast until a fork will pass easily into the largest. Turn off the water, throw in a handful of salt, and set the pot, uncovered, at the back or side of the range, to dry the potatoes “off.” Serve in their skins.
Boiled potatoes
Pare with a sharp knife, and as thin as possible. Much of the mealiness of the potato depends upon this. The scullion who slashes away chunks of her beloved edible really deprives it of its chief merit, and all its comeliness. Have a pot of boiling water ready, salt it slightly and boil fast until a fork pierces the largest readily. Throw off the water immediately, sprinkle with salt, and dry out as directed in last recipe.
Baked potatoes (No. 1)
Select fine potatoes of uniform size. Wash, wipe and bake until the largest yields to the pressure of thumb and finger. Serve wrapped in a hot napkin. If the eater will knead his potato skilfully between his fingers before breaking it open, he will find a mealy mass upon opening it. Never cut a baked potato. It makes it “soggy.”
Baked potatoes (No. 2)
Pare and parboil; then set in an open bakepan in the oven and bake about half an hour, basting freely with butter or dripping until you have a delicate brown “glaze” upon each.
These may be eaten as a separate dish, or as a garnish for roast beef.
Stuffed potatoes
Bake eight large potatoes until done. Cut off the tops with a sharp knife and scoop out the insides with a small spoon. Set aside the skins for future use. With the back of a spoon mash the potatoes smooth, rub into them two tablespoonfuls of butter, a gill of cream, two teaspoonfuls of finely minced onion, a teaspoonful of minced parsley and salt and cayenne pepper to taste. When you have worked these ingredients to a smooth mass, beat in the stiffened whites of two eggs. Fill the empty potato skins with this creamy mixture, heaping it high. Stand the potato cases on end, side by side, in a baking-pan and set in the oven until the potato protruding from the tops is a delicate brown.