She followed directions, which were to put the butter and sugar together in a saucepan. (As the butter was rather salt she took the precaution of washing it first.) While these melted, she beat the eggs thoroughly, grated off the lemon peel into them, taking care to remove all the yellow, which contains the flavor of lemon, yet not to grate deeply enough to remove any of the white, pithy rind, and then mixed all together over the fire until as thick as honey, taking care it did not scorch. When done it was thick, smooth, yellow, and semi-opaque. She poured it into two small jelly-glasses, and put it away.
While she was doing this, Marta had been picking over a scant half pint of black beans for soup, which when washed she put over the fire in a quart of cold water, in which she also put one small onion, two cloves, a tiny pinch of marjoram, one slightly larger of thyme, and two sprigs of parsley. These were to simmer slowly, until the beans could be rubbed through a strainer, and then a pint of strong beef stock, which had been making all morning, was to be added, and all boiled together for an hour.
When the soup was on, Marta prepared a fowl as Molly had shown her, and when it was done she directed her how to cut it into neat joints for fricassee, without mangling it. While Marta was doing this Molly put a pound of sugar and a small cup of water into a small iron saucepan that she assured herself was beautifully clean, and set it over the fire. While the syrup came to the boiling-point she turned her attention to the fricassee, and told Marta to lay the pieces in a saucepan with boiling water to just cover them, to cut an onion and half a medium carrot and put it to them, with a level tea-spoonful of salt and the sixth of one of pepper. These were to simmer very slowly until the fowl was tender,—about two hours,—then the fowl to be taken up, the gravy strained and put to boil very fast, till there was less than half a pint, while in another saucepan, half a pint of thick, white sauce was made (a good table-spoonful of butter and a full one of flour to half a pint of milk). This was added to the chicken gravy; they were stirred smooth together, and the chicken returned to it and allowed to simmer in it a few minutes.
When Molly had seen the fricassee prepared and slowly stewing, she turned to the sugar, which was now boiling fast. She removed a little bluish scum, very carefully, not to stir the syrup. When it had boiled a quarter of an hour, she began to try it, dipping the fork into it, and when all the drops had run off, watching if a long thread remained. At first the drops ran off quickly, and she waited a minute before trying again, when she dipped in the fork. Drops came now slow and thick, and after the last one a short thick end remained, and she knew the point had nearly come. The next dip left a long, floating hair, and Molly took it from the fire and put it to get cool while she prepared the pudding, for which she used the following recipe: Two apples, finely chopped, two ounces of grated bread, two of sugar, two of currants, two eggs and the rind of a lemon, grated with just enough of the juice to give a perceptible acid, about a third of a pinch of salt, and the third of a small nutmeg, grated. Stir all together and pour into a small, buttered bowl that it will just fill.
Molly followed the recipe, tied a cloth over the top (see directions for boiled puddings, [Chapter XIV].) and put it into fast-boiling water to boil continually an hour and a half.
Lemon sauce was prescribed for this pudding, but as she had used eggs freely lately and it required two, she substituted hard sauce.
The boiled sugar was now about blood-warm, and a thin crust like ice had formed over it. This she was vexed to see, but she picked it off. Underneath, it was as thick as very thick molasses. She stirred it with a spoon, which was rather hard work, and in about five minutes it began to look milky; this by continual beating changed to a texture like lard. Now she could use the spoon no longer, and worked it like dough in her hands. When it was a compact, smooth mass she pressed it into a tumbler and covered it with oiled paper.
Marta had been looking on with wondering eyes to see simple sugar change from a crystal-clear syrup to cream, and then to a paste, and now asked what it was for.
“That is for icing cakes, and as it will keep just so for months, it is always ready. I should have called your attention to the boiling, only there was too much on hand, and there are such delicate degrees in boiling sugar that you would need your whole attention; some time you may take sugar and experiment; there can be no waste—unless you burn it, but that will not be likely—for it can be boiled over and over again. When it is perfectly boiled, that thin crust is not upon it, only a jelly-like skin; but when it does form, if you find it is only on the surface, you can take it off and keep it to sweeten other things, but should it be grainy all through, you must put water to it again, and boil it back to the ‘thread’; on the other hand, if you take it from the fire an instant too soon, you will find that, instead of forming a paste that you can handle, it will remain thick cream. This would do for icing, as the cake absorbs some of the moisture, but it would not do to keep, nor could you add much flavoring or coloring, so it is always better to boil it to a higher degree. To-morrow I’ll show you how it is to be used. Now I think you understand the principle of frying well enough to make the potato croquettes if I read the recipe to you. This is it: Two cups of potato, mashed very smooth without milk, a dessert-spoonful of butter, salt to taste, a pinch of white pepper and a very little nutmeg (rub the nutmeg across the grater twice), and the yolk of an egg. Mix all together; and for economy’s sake I am going to use only the white of the egg for crumbing; beat it with two tea-spoonfuls of water. Make the potatoes into the shape of small pears, roll each in the white of egg, then into cracker meal, and fry just as you do the other croquettes, in very hot fat. When they are done, stick the end of a sprig of parsley into the end of each one to simulate the stalk.”