Chicken Croquettes.
One cup of cold chicken, minced fine.
One quarter cup of pounded cracker.
One teaspoonful of cornstarch, wet up in a little cold water.
One egg.
One tablespoonful of butter.
Half a tablespoonful of salt.
A good pinch of pepper.
Half a cupful of boiling water.
Mix minced chicken and crumbs together in a bowl with salt and pepper.
Put the boiling water in a clean saucepan, add the butter and set over the fire. When the butter is melted stir in the wet corn starch. Boil and stir until it thickens.
Have the egg beaten light in a bowl and pour the hot mixture upon it. Beat well, and mix with the minced chicken. Let it get perfectly cold and make into croquettes as directed for beef croquettes.
But roll these in a well-beaten egg, then in fine cracker-crumbs instead of flour, and fry, a few at a time, in a mixture half-butter, half-lard enough to cover them well. Drain off every drop of fat from each croquette as you take it up, and keep hot until all are done.
Serve hot and at once.
9
DINNER DISHES.
I AM amused and yet made thoughtful by the fact that so many young housekeepers write to me of their pleasure in cake-making and their desire to learn how to compound what are usually known as “fancy-dishes,” some sending excellent receipts for loaf-cake, cookies and doughnuts, while few express the least interest in soups, meats and vegetables. The drift of the dear creatures’ thoughts reminds me of a rhymed—“If I had!” which I read years ago, setting forth how a little boy would have if he could, a house built of pastry, floored with taffy, ceiled with sugar-plums, and roofed with frosted gingerbread. In engaging a cook one does not ask, first of all, “Can you get up handsome desserts?” but, “Do you understand bread-making and baking, and the management of meats, soups, and other branches of plain cookery?”
The same “plain cookery” is the pivot on which the family health and comfort rest and turn. If you would qualify yourselves to become thorough housewives, it is as essential that you should master the principles of this, as that a musician should be able to read the notes on the staff. Some people do play tolerably by ear, but they are never ranked as students, much less as professors of music. “Fancy” cookery is to the real thing what embroidery is to the art of the seamstress. She who has learned how to use her needle deftly upon “seam, gusset and band,” will find the acquisition of ornamental stitches an easy matter. Skill in Kensington and satin stitch is of little value in fitting one to do “fine,” which is also useful sewing.
I am sorry to add that my observation goes to prove that more American housekeepers can make delicate and rich cake than excellent soups.