“These are going to be quite plain rolls; when you succeed in these we will try finer ones. Get a good table-spoonful of butter,—lard would do, but I use it as little as possible for health’s sake—put it near the fire to warm a very little; add to the dough two tea-spoonfuls of sugar; now the butter is pliable, work it in; it will take five minutes’ constant kneading to make the butter and dough quite smooth. Now you see it is softer than bread dough; if a crisp crust is wanted, work in gradually a little more flour, almost a table-spoonful,—if the weather is cold have it warm; if a soft crust is preferred leave it as it is. Put the dough to rise in a warm place behind the stove, but not too hot, or it may sour; in from two to three hours it will have risen again very light; work it over thoroughly for three or four minutes till it is again as small as now, and set it to rise again, and when light come and tell me.
“This evening we shall have bisque of oysters, baked liver, and croquettes, and you can make a peach pudding by your recipe, but I want you to use cold lamb for croquettes; I will prepare it before I go out of the kitchen so that it will be ready whenever you are, and remember if you forget anything to come to me.”
Molly cut the meat from the cold shoulder of lamb, removed every bit of skin and gristle, and then chopped it very fine; she had not left that to Marta because she might not be careful enough. She also flavored the meat by using a bit of onion as large as a dime chopped till as fine as sand, and a tea-spoonful of parsley, also chopped fine, and a pinch of thyme; these were mixed with the lamb, and Marta was told to do the rest as if making croquettes of chicken.
Molly intended asking her friend, Mrs. Welles, to come and stay a week with her soon, and as that would entail a little extra expense, she meant to economize somewhat for a week or two; therefore she omitted some little items from her bill of fare, and substituted others that would be cheaper. This interfered very slightly with her plan of letting Marta do alone nearly all that she herself had done the last week.
The girl would be able to make croquettes with one meat as easily as another, and although for the sake of practice she meant to repeat the dishes, she did not care to have them in the same order. The bisque of oysters she would have in place of clams for the sake of variety and of showing Marta that the principle was the same in both, and that another time she might substitute lobster instead of either, and yet the process would not change. Another thing she had in mind was that as the breast of lamb she had for Thursday would be a rather slim dinner, the oyster patties, of which Harry was extravagantly fond, would make up.
Soon after one o’clock Marta came to say that the rolls had risen, been worked down, and were now light enough, she thought, to push down.
When she went into the kitchen she found the dough just about as light as bread should be.
“No, Marta, this is not light enough. Rolls should rise a great deal lighter than bread. They will need to rise another half hour—but as I see the oysters are here, I will use some of them for patties for to-morrow’s dinner.”
Molly took a third of the pint of oysters, and then half a gill of the liquid, and scalded both for a minute; then, taking out the oysters, added an equal quantity of milk to the liquor, and in another small saucepan put two tea-spoonfuls of butter, the same of flour; and, stirring them together till they bubbled, she poured milk and oyster liquid to them, stirring till they were quite smooth. She seasoned this sauce and then dropped the oysters, each one cut in four, into it. She did not mean to use them to-day, but the oysters kept raw would not be good; cooked in this way they would be as good as when fresh.
The rolls being now light Molly stuck her fingers two or three times downward into the light mass, and it sank under them.