Fried Chicken: Cut into joints two tender young chickens, wipe the pieces dry, season with salt and pepper, red and black, then set on ice. Fry a pound of streaky bacon in a deep skillet, take out when crisp, roll chicken in flour, dip in beaten egg, then roll again, and lay in the fat, which must be bubbling hot, but not scorching. Cook, turning often, to a rich brown, take out, then pile in a pan, set the pan over another with boiling water in the bottom, and put all in a very hot oven for fifteen minutes. This cooks the chicken through and through without making it hard. The pieces must not touch in frying so there will be two skilletfuls. When all the chicken is fried, and in the oven, dredge in more flour, stir it well through the fat, then add a cup of cream, stirring hard all the time, and letting it barely simmer—boiling curdles it. Or if you want a full-cream gravy, pour off the fat, stir the cream in double quantity in the skillet to take up the flavors, then pour it in a double boiler, add pepper, salt, minced celery, a little onion juice, and one at a time, lumps of butter, rolled well in flour. Cook until thick and rich, and serve in a gravy boat.
Smothered Chicken: Get two pound broilers fat and tender, have them split down the back, make clean, season by buttering inside and out, sprinkling with salt, pepper and paprika, and dredging with flour. Lay breasts down, upon a low rack in a deep pan, cover with slices of streaky bacon, shingling the slices well. Dredge with pepper and flour, lay in sliced tomatoes, shredded green peppers, and a few small parboiled onions. Add lumps of butter rolled in flour, dotting them all about the bacon. Pour in enough water to barely reach the top of the rack, cover the pan close, and cook in a hot oven, about an hour. Uncover after three-quarters of an hour, add a half-cup more water—this is for the gravy. Cover again, and finish cooking. The chickens should be brown all over but meltingly tender. Take up on a hot dish, breaking the bacon slices as little as possible. Serve the vegetables separate, also the gravy from the pan. The vegetables can be omitted, and smothered chicken still be a dish to rejoice an epicure.
Glorified Chicken Croquets: (Mrs. G. H. Patch.) Boil a large-size tender young chicken till the meat almost drops from the bones. Boil likewise tender, in salt water, one pound either sweetbreads or calf brains. Pick up the chicken and grind the meat fine, then mash it well together with the brains or sweetbreads, and season to taste. Put into a double boiler half-pint cream, tablespoonful butter, two tablespoonfuls flour, one tablespoonful parsley chopped fine, one teaspoonful onion juice, one teaspoonful salt, black and Cayenne pepper to taste. Cook smooth, stirring hard, let thicken, then add the meat, and mix thoroughly. Let cool, shape into croquets, dip in egg, roll in cracker crumbs, and fry quickly in deep hot fat.
Chicken-Turkey Hash: Cut the meat small, freeing of skin and gristle. If there is rich gravy left, put it into a skillet, and cook tender in it, half a dozen sliced tomatoes, three shredded green peppers, a small sliced onion, and a cupful of raw potato cubes. Lacking gravy, cook in butter or bacon fat, and season to taste—gravy requires less seasoning than plain fat. Add the meat, pour in a cup of boiling water, stir all well together, and cook for five minutes. Serve in a hot dish lined with thin toast. Fine for breakfast, or a very late supper.
Rabbit or Squirrel Smothered: Leave whole, rub over with fat, season highly, lay in a pan or skillet, with slices of bacon, add a cup of hot water, cover close, set over the fire, and simmer until tender. Uncover, and brown in the gravy, adding a little Cayenne vinegar at the very last.
Rabbit or Squirrel Barbecued: Leave whole, skewer flat, grease all over, lay on rack in pan, and roast in hot oven, basting every five minutes with hot salt water. When crisp, take up and serve with the sauce directed for barbecued lamb.
Quail: Smother quail the same as rabbits. I like them better halved, and fried crisp and quickly, in deep hot bacon fat. But to make the most of them, a pie's the thing. The crust must be rich and rolled a quarter-inch thick. Put in the birds whole, seasoning them well inside and out, with salt and black pepper. Put in also generous lumps of butter rolled in flour, slices of fat bacon, strips of crust an inch wide and three inches long, a little minced onion, celery or shredded green pepper if the flavors are approved, and a tiny pod of Cayenne pepper. Pour in cold water till it stands half way up the birds. Be sure the cover-crust is plenty big—pinch it down tight, prick and make a cross-cut at the center into which a tubelet of paper must be thrust to prevent the gravy's boiling over. Bake three-quarters of an hour, in a hot oven. Take up, and serve very hot. A gill of hot cream poured in through a funnel after taking up suits some palates—mine is not among them. Other folks like a wineglass of sherry made very hot.
Wild Duck: If likely to be fishy, soak an hour in vinegar and water made very salt, and roast with an onion inside stuck very full of cloves. Season inside and out, rub over with fat or butter, and roast in quick heat, to the degree required. Ducks or geese mild in flavor should be roasted with a tart apple stuck with cloves inside, also a mild onion. Rub over with fat, season with salt and pepper inside and out, and strew inside lightly a small pinch of powdered sage. A good sauce for them is made by browning half a cup of grated bread crumbs in a tablespoonful of butter, adding to it a spoonful of tart jelly, a wineglass of claret, a tablespoonful of tomato catsup, with seasoning to taste of salt and pepper.
Possum Roasted: Chill thoroughly after scraping and drawing. Save all the inside fat, let it soak in weak salt water until cooking time, then rinse it well, and partly try it out in the pan before putting in the possum. Unless he is huge, leave him whole, skewering him flat, and laying him skin side up in the pan. Set in a hot oven and cook until crisply tender, taking care there is no scorching. Roast a dozen good sized sweet potatoes—in ashes if possible, if not, bake them covered in a deep pan. Peel when done, and lay while hot around the possum, turning them over and over in the abundant gravy. He should have been lightly salted when hung up, and fully seasoned, with salt, pepper, and a trifle of mustard, when put down to cook. Dish him in a big platter, lay the potatoes, which should be partly browned, around him, add a little boiling water to the pan, shake well around, and pour the gravy over everything. Hot corn bread, strong black coffee, or else sharp cider, and very hot sharp pickles are the things to serve with him.
Eggs: Eggs demand an introductory paragraph. As everybody knows, there are eggs and eggs. An egg new-laid has a tiny air-space at each end, betwixt the shell and the silken lining membrane. If left lying, this confined air changes its locality—leaves the ends for the upmost side of the shell. Shells are porous—through them the white evaporates—thus the air bubble on top gets bigger and bigger. By the size of it you can judge fairly the egg's age—unless it has been kept in cold storage or in water-glass. By boiling hard, throwing in cold water and peeling intact, you can see for yourself if a fresh egg so-called is truly fresh. If fresh there will be no perceptible marring of its oval—but if it shows a shrinkage, and especially if the yolk is so near the shell it shows through the cooked white, there is proof positive that the egg is not new-laid—though it may be perfectly wholesome.