I Go A-Marketing

by Henrietta Sowle

Game Tarts

Another delightful manner of serving game is in the form of tarts—squab or pigeon tarts; line the tart moulds with paste, and then fill with the breasts only of the birds, adding a few slices of mushrooms and moistening with a liquor made by boiling the bones of the birds in a little water well seasoned with salt, a bit of pepper, and a spoonful or two of sherry. Cover the tarts with the paste, have perfectly cold, and unmould before serving.

Turkey in Aspic

Just now one may find tender and toothsome young turkeys in the market stalls, waiting to do duty at any event to which they may be called, and for the particular occasion in which we are interested at this instant there can be no better way of serving them than by boiling till tender and then cutting into small pieces, moulding them with the help of aspic jelly into shapes so attractive that one longs to learn if they can be quite as gratifying to the palate as to the eye. And, by the way, what a godsend aspic jelly is in the preparation of dishes to be served cold!

Beef Tongue

Another cold dish which is looked upon as being a sort of commonplace stand-by is of boiled tongue, but I have found that it is easily raised to a level bordering on the ideal if prepared in this way: Boil the beef tongue till tender in water which has been highly seasoned with vegetables, herbs, and spice; remove the skin, brush the tongue with beaten egg, strew it thickly with bread-crumbs, and bake for half an hour in a hot oven, basting frequently with port wine. Let it get perfectly cold before slicing and have the slices as thin as possible.

Near to the tongue, as a relish for it, and indeed for all of the foregoing dishes, one’s sense of the fitness of things approves the idea of having crisp, thin slices of toast, sprinkled with the finest little bits of green peppers imaginable, and masked with a thin layer of mayonnaise.

In fact, one, if not the best, way to serve salads at an outdoor festivity, is upon thin slices of toast of white or graham bread, as one chooses. For instance, a lettuce and anchovy salad made by shredding the lettuce and cutting the anchovies in two and dressing with lemon juice and a dash of cayenne, with the yolks of hard-boiled eggs finely minced, seems to call for just such a tiny bit of toast as one gets in this way of serving, to carry out one’s idea of perfection in little things.

French Sandwiches

And after I had decided that the salads at Hortensia’s garden party should be so served, it was quite natural that the idea of sandwiches should suggest itself to my mind; but before the idea had time to really assume a definite shape I hastily but conclusively rebelled against the prospect of seeing those time-honored edibles set forth for the delectation of Hortensia’s guests in the guise of the common or restaurant variety. And this is the way I overcame what bade fair to be a troublesome difficulty: Rolls, deliciously fresh French rolls, with a circular piece of the top crust removed and kept whole, while all the soft part of the roll was scooped out to make room for a filling of chicken, lobster, or sardines, after which the little cover was put back into place, and the comfort and joy of the partaker was an assured thing.