[NEW DRIED FRUITS.]
By DORA DE BLAQUIÈRE.
Most of my readers can recall, I fancy, the days when we had only prunes and Normandy pippins in the way of dried fruits. The dried apricots, apples, and plums of the present day are very modern and recent gifts to a grateful world. So recent are they indeed that the ignorance about them is very great; and, strange to say, the grocers who have them for sale have not been supplied as they should have been with small printed papers describing how to cook them.
In using the term “dried fruits,” you will notice, I hope, that I am dealing with what may be called stewing fruits; for, though we stew, or can stew, raisins, figs, and even currants, I believe the first treatment of these fruits is not to cook them in that manner. Raisins and currants speak to us more distinctly of our Christmas mince-pies and plum puddings, and of a regular dessert dish throughout the year in some houses, than of any other kind of cooking.
The stewing of raisins was introduced, I believe, by vegetarians, and in this form with a flavouring of lemon-peel. They are not at all bad when added to a milk pudding or some blancmange.
The stewing of dried figs comes almost under the same description, and their chief objection lies in their extreme sweetness, which is a cause of quite unmerited and needless toothache at times. The best way of cooking figs will always be in the way of a fig pudding, which is an excellent though rich dish.
Dried apples have always been a great household requisite in cold countries like Canada and the northern states of America, and I remember that the making of them constituted a very large part of the many winter preparations which used to be necessary when the country was less civilised than it is now, the fruit less plentiful, and the means of keeping it very imperfect.
It was not always easy to guard against the frost, which penetrated the ground to a depth of four or even five feet when the winters were too snowless. On these occasions when the earth is left bare and without her warm coating of snow, the frost has been known to penetrate even six feet into the ground in exposed places. This fact is verified in cold countries like Canada in a very painful manner when graves have to be dug. So difficult is this that in large cities where there are many to dig a cemetery hall is built to contain the bodies of those who die in the winter, so that the frost may be out of the ground before the graves are dug.