Macaroni Timbales
Have you any idea how many ways are known to expert cooks for preparing macaroni? I haven’t. But I should not be surprised to see offered for sale any day a publication setting forth “One Thousand Ways to Cook Macaroni,” and I hope that macaroni timbales, in case such an event comes to pass, will be given the place of honor. Try making them in this way, and you will agree with me. Boil the macaroni in plenty of salted water till it is tender, but not “mushy.” Drain off the water, and add, with all thoughts of economy thrown to the winds, melted butter; stir it in well, and add a goodly sprinkling of grated Parmesan cheese and cayenne pepper. Line a mould with the very best puff-paste you know how to make, rolled as thinly as possible, and put in the macaroni; cover with a round of the paste, lay a sheet of buttered paper over the top, and bake in a hot oven for about thirty minutes. Unmould on a hot dish, and pour round it some tomato sauce made from the best recipe given in any of your gastronomical literature.
Casserole of Fillets of Sole
Then consult the aforesaid literature still further, and select therefrom the most appetizing recipe for making a stuffing of bread-crumbs, when you have it properly prepared spread with it some fillets of sole, and tie them into shape with a little thread. Now put into a casserole, or stewpan, three or four ounces of butter, two minced onions, and the fish; let it fry for five or six minutes, then add to it two or three gills of béchamel sauce (see cookery books once more), a cupful of chopped mushrooms, and a claret-glass of claret. Cover the pan closely, and cook in the oven for half an hour. When finished, remove the strings from the fillets, and serve in a deep dish with the liquor in which they were cooked poured over them. And there you have a dish fit to tickle the palate of any king, or knave, that ever lived. Later in the season, when lobsters are selling at a more reasonable price, try substituting them for the soles, and your delight will be increased several-fold.
Oyster Soufflés
Very likely you know as much or more than I do about making oyster soufflés, but, be that as it may, I have the floor, and am going to tell you what I do know about them, for I may never get another chance. My way is to blanch two dozen good oysters in their own liquor, then cut them into dice, and while they are cooling prepare a sauce of two ounces each of butter and flour, a dust of cayenne, a little salt, the yolks of three eggs, and half a pint of rich milk; when it is thick enough and smooth enough I put in the oysters and their liquor, pour the mixture into little soufflé cases, sprinkle each with browned bread-crumbs and bits of butter, and bake in a moderate oven for eighteen minutes; then serve at once. How do you think you would like to try that way of making them?
Coffee Cream Glacée
Now, you will admit that I very seldom presume to tell you how to prepare sweets, but to-day my story would be incomplete if I were to omit the directions for making a coffee cream glacée. It is easy as can be; that is, if you can freeze things. Beat the yolks of four eggs in a basin with four ounces of powdered sugar, standing the basin in another of hot water, so that they may get quite warm, but not hot; add to them a gill of strong coffee, beat it all together till it is light and creamy and quite cold. Then add to it a pint of stiffly whipped cream, pour the mixture into a mould, and bury in ice and salt for two hours. Unmould on the prettiest piece of lace paper you have when serving.
Almond Pudding
Perhaps I run the risk of overdoing the matter by telling you how to make an almond pudding, but it does harmonize so delightfully with coffee glacée that ’twould be actually sinful to leave you in ignorance of how it is made. It’s simple, too, simple as a b c. You just beat up the yolks of five and the whites of three eggs with a large tablespoonful of rose-water, and add gradually to it four ounces of powdered sugar and four ounces of freshly ground almonds, mixed with a few small whole ones. Beat this thoroughly for ten or fifteen minutes, pour into a well-buttered pie-dish and bake. When half-cooked, garnish with strips of candied orange peel and blanched almonds. And if you have any of the pudding left, which is doubtful, you will find that it makes an excellent five-o’clock tea cake, for it is quite as good cold as hot.