What is known as a Cambridge devil was given to me long ago by a Fellow of St. John’s, and dates certainly from the very last days of the last century, or the early days of this one—which, if we all live long enough, will soon be spoken of as “the last century” too! This can be employed with any kind of meat, but I have chiefly used it with ham, and it is very excellent in helping to use up the remains of a ham, which is rather difficult to deal with when you do not turn it into potted ham, which is, perhaps, the most sensible way of all.
The rough and ready way of making a Cambridge devil is to take the mustard pot, and with the mustard spoon to smear over the slices of ham on one side as much mustard as you think you are likely to stand, and then to add some vinegar—perhaps two tablespoonfuls—just enough to make a thickened gravy with the mustard you have put in. You have first laid the slices of ham neatly on an old plate, or, at least, on one plate which you do not mind putting into a very hot oven, and when you have added the mustard and the vinegar, you must put the plate into a hot oven. When it gets very hot, take a fork and turn about the slices of ham until they be covered with vinegar, and the vinegar and the mustard have amalgamated in some measure, then put back into the oven, and let it brown well and frizzle up, and then serve in the same plate in which it has been cooked. But you should stand it, of course, on another one, so that it may not do any damage, nor burn people’s fingers.
I learned years ago a very nice and simple method of preparing slices of cold meat of any kind by rubbing them with curry powder and then frying them, or, better still, grilling. When you have cut the slices of meat (mutton, I think, for choice), pour some curry powder on a plate, and roll the slices in it; but if you do not like things very hot and fierce, then mix the curry powder with flour in the proportion of half and half, and this will make the dish more suitable for the family. I am inclined to think that all these dishes of an extremely savoury description are more suitable for the “grown-ups” than the smaller fry.
Cold meat may be also simply devilled by shaking over it a mixture of cayenne, black pepper, and salt, and sometimes a little French mustard is added at the last before the meat is made hot. I have also seen the above mixed with butter into a paste, the meat slightly scored, and the mixture rubbed into the scorings. Amongst the most delightful of breakfast dishes are those made of drumsticks of fowls, turkeys, or ducks. These should be scored lengthways, and the mixture inserted; then you should put on some tiny bits of butter (if you do not use oil) and grill.
Now I must enter on the very important subject of bones (I am sure it ought to have a capital B), grilled and devilled bones constituting one of those delicacies which are always associated with club suppers, or the midnight meals of celebrated eating-houses. In private houses, devilled bones are not so well known, nor so successful, perhaps, when done; and this is generally owing, as I have said before, to the carelessness or to the inexperience of cooks, who may never have been taught how to do them.
The bones most used for grilling and devilling are from the sirloin of beef, or the shoulder or leg of mutton. Of course, when we speak of “bones,” we do not mean that they are “bare bones”; they must of necessity have a certain amount of meat left upon them—that is to say, enough to be scored with a sharp knife, if to be devilled as well as grilled. If to be grilled only, and you be fortunate enough to have a gridiron, they need nothing but a little pepper and salt, and sometimes not even that.
The bones require a fierce, hot, and clear fire, and the epicure of grilled bones prefers that the meat should be black. If the fire be not fierce enough, you can make it more so by throwing a little fat upon it, either in the form of dripping, or of odd pieces of fat that may be cut off from the meat. This will make a sufficient blaze, and you will attain without trouble to the coveted degree of blackness, which really is more smoke and scorch than burn, and gives with the grease that kind of smoky taste to the grill that we enjoy so much with ham and any other smoked meats.
Grilled Kippered Salmon.—Cut some dried salmon into small long pieces—about four inches long and two inches wide; broil them over a clear fire, then rub them over with fresh butter seasoned with lemon-juice and cayenne, and serve very hot.
Grilled Cod Cutlets.—One ancient recipe for grilling will serve to explain the process, and will enable anyone to perform the operation without difficulty. The first thing to do is to dry the cutlets or anything else in a clean cloth, and then to brush them over lightly with fresh olive oil, place them on a hot gridiron, and grill for about ten minutes; turn them on both sides, and, when done, sprinkle with pepper and salt, squeeze lemon-juice over them, and serve very hot. This is the usual process, and everything—fish, mutton, beef, mushrooms, and chicken or turkey—can be done by it.
And now I hope that you will have quite comprehended from what I have written the difference between grilling and devilling, and can see that grills need not be devilled, but that devils must always be grilled. So I will finish up my subject by discoursing on the things to which you may apply the latter process, which are so many that you will find your list of breakfast and supper dishes greatly enlarged.