The chicken pie Molly had made for Sunday had only been half eaten, as there had been three quarters of a pound of veal in it as well as the chicken,—the drumsticks of which, by the way, she had reserved for Monday morning’s breakfast, prepared in the following way:
The sinews were taken out, when the feet were cut off, in this way: the yellow skin only was cut, the sinews were drawn out, the bones removed and their places filled with a forcemeat made of veal chopped very fine, with an equal proportion of salt pork. Molly had bought enough veal on Saturday for dinner and the pie, and she took a very small piece of that cooked in the latter, for her forcemeat, of which there was needed only two scant table-spoonfuls altogether, and just enough of the jelly to moisten it. She seasoned the forcemeat rather highly, then filled the place of the removed bones with it, taking care not to pack it too tight, sewed up the opening (having left a good piece of the skin of the thigh on the legs when removing them), wrapped each in a very thin slice of pork, tied them round, floured them, and baked them in a sharp oven twenty-five minutes, and they were brown and crisp when taken up.
To make the pie presentable for dinner at small expense she had ordered a dozen large oysters; the oyster liquor was strained, a table-spoonful of butter and half one of flour put in a saucepan, stirred till they bubbled, then the cold pie, all but the pastry, added to it, with part of the oyster liquor and the oysters. The pastry was cut into neat pieces, and put into the oven to get hot, while Molly chopped a table-spoonful of parsley very fine.
When the fricassee came to the boiling-point, it was carefully stirred round and the parsley sprinkled in, and then the oysters were left five minutes to plump. While doing this she directed Marta to prepare a fondue, telling her to put a table-spoonful of butter and one of flour in a small saucepan, stir them till they bubbled, and then to add a gill of milk to them.
“That is really thick white sauce, you see, Marta; you will soon know of how many things a good white sauce is the foundation. Stir to prevent burning. Now add to it the two ounces of cheese I told you to grate, and a level salt-spoonful of salt, and as much pepper as will go on the end of the salt-spoon. Now you can take it off the fire, and turn it into a bowl; beat the yolks of two eggs light, and stir them to it. While you dish and dress the cabbage, and take up the potatoes and fricassee, I will beat the whites of three eggs solid.”
Molly wanted to see if Marta remembered how the cabbage was dressed the last time, and left her to it.
When the vegetables were ready the fricassee was taken up, the chicken and veal laid in the centre of the dish, the oysters round it, and the strips of pastry at the four corners.
Now the whites of eggs were stirred into the fondue gently; it was poured into a small buttered dish, which it only half filled, and was put to bake while the first part of the dinner was eaten.
“This will be done as soon as it is golden brown, and you must bring it to table at once, as it will fall if left standing.”
Molly meant to have dinners that were as little trouble as possible on Monday, feeling that as it was washing day Marta should have less to do; therefore the bill of fare was only