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TINNED MEATS; THEIR VALUE TO HOUSEKEEPERS

By A. G. PAYNE, Author of “Common-sense Cookery,” “Choice Dishes at Small Cost,” “The Housekeeper’s Guide,” &c.

PART II.

In my last article on tinned meats I described how to give a nice little dinner at a short notice, supposing the larder only contained a cold shoulder of mutton. I will now give a few hints on the general management of tinned meats. I will also fulfil my promise of describing how to make that most useful article in cooking, brown roux, which in my opinion is absolutely essential should we wish to make our tinned thick soups a success.

First let us consider the best way of managing tins, the contents of which are generally eaten cold, and do not require warming up.

Perhaps the two most common examples of tinned provisions are sardines and tinned lobster. For very many years sardines have been a popular breakfast dish, and the plan has been to open the tin of sardines, and leave the sardines in the tin till all are finished. Tinned lobster is a more modern invention, and inexperienced housekeepers, from habit, have treated the lobster exactly as they have the sardines, viz., they have opened the tin and left the lobster in the tin. I would warn you that this method of dealing with tinned lobster is not merely wrong, but absolutely dangerous. From time to time reports have arisen on the danger of eating tinned goods, and every now and then we hear of cases of persons being ill, who date the origin of their illness from eating some species of preserved provision. You would do well to bear in mind that the persons to blame are not the makers of the tinned goods, but the housekeeper who opens them and then fails to exercise her common sense. Probably every housekeeper is aware of the fact that if you make soup it is necessary to turn the soup out in a basin before going to bed. Every cookery book teaches us the fact that if we leave the soup in the saucepan all night long it spoils. Why? Why should soup get bad in a metallic vessel, where it would not get bad in a porcelain one? The answer is very simple—on account of the metal being acted on by the air. If you leave a moist knife in the kitchen, in two or three days it becomes rusty. Why, then, should we expect meat or fish or food of any kind whatever to keep good in a tin, when we know it would not keep good in a tin saucepan? The fact is, we have never thought about it at all. But I do not think I need enlarge upon the subject, as, if you have any common sense, a hint will be sufficient, and if you have no common sense, it is useless to attempt to reason with you. Therefore bear this one most important point in mind—whenever you open any kind of tinned provision, turn it out of the tin directly the tin is opened; otherwise it will instantly commence to undergo a chemical change, which becomes stronger the longer it is opened. Some persons, perhaps, will say, How is it that we have been in the habit for years, perhaps, of opening sardines, and have never experienced any inconvenience whatever? The simple reason is that the sardines are preserved in oil, and that the oil prevents the action of the air on the metal. To explain my meaning, you may try the following experiment:—Take two bright knives; dip one in water and the other in thick oil. Leave the two knives for three or four days. The one dipped in water will be covered with rust, owing to the action of the air on the metal (perhaps some of you are sufficiently acquainted with chemistry to know what I mean by saying that the metal oxidises); the knife that has been dipped in oil, on being wiped, will be found as bright as it was before, owing to the action of the air being prevented on the metal by the oil.

Space will not allow of my giving a list of all the nice little delicacies that are now preserved in tins, but I will mention a few—potted beef, ham, tongue, chicken, turkey, etc. Then there are pork patties in tins, savoury patties, Oxford brawn, while, if you wish to have what may be termed higher class delicacies, there is paté de foie gras, as well as truffled woodcock, lark, snipe, plover, partridges, quails, etc., all of which are sold in tins, the tins being rather more than half-a-crown a piece. If we take one of these tins and open it in the ordinary manner, leaving the tin half on as a lid, it is by no means an elegant-looking dish, whereas if we cut the tin entirely round the edge and take the top off, then make a little hole the other side in order to let the air get in, we can turn the whole of the contents of the tin out in a shape exactly as we could turn jelly out of a copper mould. The tin of potted beef, if that is what we have, can be turned out on an ornamental piece of paper placed in the middle of a dish. The dish can then be ornamented with a little bright green parsley, and a little cut lemon, and can be made to look really appetising. In fact, there is no more excuse for sending potted meat to table in the tin than there would be for sending a mould of jelly to table in the mould. What would you say if you were asked out to a dinner were the man to hand round the mould of jelly in the mould, and you were to scoop it out with a spoon? and yet this is what you have virtually done over and over again at breakfast.

IN THE KITCHEN.