The loss per cent, on roasting beef, viz., on sirloins and ribs together is 19-1/6th; on mutton, viz., legs and shoulders together, 24-4/5ths, on fore-quarters of lamb, 22-1/3rd; on ducks, 27-1/5th; on turkeys, 20-1/2; on geese, 19-1/2; on chickens, 14-3/5ths. So that it will be seen by comparison with the percentage given of the loss by boiling, that roasting is not so economical; especially when we take into account that the loss of weight by boiling is not actual loss of economic materials, for we then possess the principal ingredients for soups; whereas, after roasting, the fat only remains. The average loss in boiling and and roasting together is 18 per cent. according to Donovan, and 28 per cent. according to Wallace—a difference that may be accounted for by supposing a difference in the fatness of the meat, duration and degree of heat, &c., employed.
1068. Boiling
This most simple of culinary processes is not often performed in perfection; it does not require quite so much nicety and attendance as roasting; to skim your pot well, and keep it really boiling, or rather, simmering, all the while—to know how long is required for doing the joint, &c., and to take it up at the critical moment when it is done enough—comprehends almost the whole art and mystery. This, however, demands a patient and perpetual vigilance, of which, unhappily, few persons are capable.
The cook must take especial care that the water really boils all the while she is cooking, or she will be deceived in the time; and make up a sufficient fire (a frugal cook will manage with much less fire for boiling than she uses for roasting) at first, to last all the time, without much mending or stirring, and thereby save much trouble. When the pot is coming to a boil, there will always, from the cleanest meat and clearest water, rise a scum to the top of it; proceeding partly from the foulness of the meat, and partly from the water: this must be carefully taken off, as soon as it rises. On this depends the good appearance of all boiled things—an essential matter.
When you have skimmed well, put in some cold water, which will throw up the rest of the scum. The oftener it is skimmed, and the clearer the surface of the water is kept, the cleaner will be the meat. If let alone, it soon boils down and sticks to the meat, which, instead of looking delicately white and nice, will have that coarse appearance we have too often to complain of, and the butcher and poulterer will be blamed for the carelessness of the cook, in not skimming her pot with due diligence.
Many put in milk, to make what they boil look white, but this does more harm than good; others wrap it up in a cloth; but these are needless precautions; if the scum be attentively removed, meat will have a much more delicate colour and finer flavour than it has when muffled up. This may give rather more trouble—but those we wish to excel in their art must only consider how the processes of it can be most perfectly performed: a cook who has a proper pride and pleasure in her business will make this her maxim and rule on all occasions.
Put your meat into cold water, in the proportion of about a quart of water to a pound of meat; it should be covered with water during the whole of the process of boiling, but not drowned in it; the less water, provided the meat be covered with it, the more savoury will be the meat, and the better will be the broth in every respect. The water should be heated gradually, according to the thickness, &c., of the article boiled; for instance, a leg of mutton of ten pounds weight should be placed over a moderate fire, which will gradually make the water hot without causing it to boil, for about forty minutes; if the water boils much sooner, the meat will be hardened, and shrink up as if it was scorched—by keeping the water a certain time heating without boiling, its fibres are dilated, and it yields a quantity of scum, which must be taken off as soon as it rises, for the reasons already mentioned.
"If a vessel containing water be placed over a steady fire, the water will grow continually hotter, till it reaches the limit of boiling; after which, the regular accessions of heat are wholly spent in converting it into steam: the water remains at the same pitch of temperature, however fiercely it boils. The only difference is, that with a strong fire it sooner comes to boil, and more quickly boils away, and is converted into steam."
Such are the opinions stated by Buchanan in his "Economy of Fuel." There was placed a thermometer in water in that state which cooks call gentle simmering—the heat was 212°,