SANITARY COOKING.[5]
Reading edition
SANITARY COOKING.[5]
By VIRGINIA L. OPPENHEIMER, M.D., Seymour, Ind.
"We may live without poetry, music, and art, We may live without conscience, and live without heart, We may live without friends, We may live without books, But civilized man cannot live without cooks. "We may live without books— What is knowledge but grieving? We may live without hope— What is hope but deceiving? We may live without love—what is passion but pining? But where is the man that can live without dining?"
Thus saith the poet, and forthwith turns the world over into the hands of the cook. And into what better hands could you fall? To you, my fat, jolly, four-meals-a-day friend, Mr. Gourmand, but more especially to you, my somber, lean, dyspeptic, two-meals-a-day friend, Mr. Grumbler, the cook is indeed a valuable friend. The cook wields a scepter that is only second in power to that of love; and even love has become soured through the evil instrumentality of the good-looking or bad-cooking cook. This is no jest, it is a very sad fact.
Now, the question arises, how can the cook preserve the health of her patrons, maintain happiness in the family, and yet not throw the gourmands into bankruptcy? Very simple, I assure you.
You must have the cook. I mean by this, that not every one can occupy that important office. The greatest consideration in the qualities of a cook is, does she like the work? No one can fulfill the duties of any noteworthy office unless he labors at them with vim and willingness.
You must have good articles of food originally.
As our honest Iago said, "You must have change."
When one arrives at adult age, he should have learned by experience what articles of food do, and what articles of food do not, agree with him, and to shun the latter, no matter how daintily served or how tempting the circumstances. The man who knows that pates de foie gras, or the livers of abnormally fattened geese, disagree with him, and still eats them, is not to be pitied when all the horrors of dyspepsia overtake him.
The cooking of any article of food has evidently much, very much, to do with its digestibility. It is not the purpose of this paper to teach cooking, but merely to give some general hints as to the best as well as the simplest methods of preparing staple articles of food. The same articles of food can and should be prepared differently on each day of the week. Changes of diet are too likely to be underestimated. By constant change the digestive organs in the average person are prevented from having that repulsion of food which, to a greater or less extent, is likely to result from a sameness of diet continued for a long time.
We often hear from our scientific men that this or that article of food is excellent for muscle, another for brain, another for bone, etc., etc. Now, stubborn facts are like stone walls, against which theories often butt out their beauty and their power. It is well known to almost every one nowadays that well-cooked food, whether it be potatoes, meat and bread, fish, or anything else worthy the name of food, will well maintain, indefinitely, either the philosopher or the hodcarrier.
Many of you know, and all of you ought to know, that the principal ingredients of nearly all our foods are starch and albumen. Starch is the principal nutritive ingredient of vegetables and breadstuffs. Albumen is the principal ingredient of meats, eggs, milk, and other animal derivatives.
Starch never enters the system as starch, but must first be converted into sugar either in the body or out of it. The process of this transformation of starch into sugar is beautifully exemplified in certain plants, such as the beet, the so-called sugar cane, and other growths. The young plant is, to a great extent, composed of starch; as the plant grows older, a substance is produced which is called diastase. Through the influence of this diastase the starch is converted into a peculiar non-crystallizable substance called dextrine, and as the plant matures, this dextrine is transformed into crystallizable sugar.
"Dextrine is a substance that can be produced from starch by the action of dilute acids, alkalies, and malt extract, and by roasting it at a temperature between 284° and 330° F., till it is of a light brown color, and has the odor of overbaked bread."
A simple form of dextrine may be found in the brown crust of bread—that sweetish substance that gives the crust its agreeable flavor. Pure dextrine is an insipid, odorless, yellowish-white, translucent substance, which dissolves in water almost as readily as sugar. As stated above, it is easily converted into dextrose, or glucose, as it is usually named.
This glucose is often sold under the name of sugar, and is the same against which so many of the newspapers waged such a war a year or two ago. These critics were evidently, for the most part, persons who knew little about the subject. Glucose, if free from sulphuric acid or other chemicals, is as harmless as any other form of sugar. Most of our candies contain more or less of it, and are in every way as satisfactory as when manufactured wholly from other sugars.
It is, therefore, self-evident that, as sugar is a necessary article of food, the process which aids the transformation of our starchy foods must necessarily aid digestion. Do not understand me to say by this that, if all our starchy foods were converted into sugar, their digestion would thereby be completed. As I stated a moment ago, this sweet food, if taken into the stomach day after day, would soon cause that particular organ to rebel against this sameness of diet. In order the more clearly to illustrate this point, I will briefly show you how some of the every-day articles of food can be each day differently prepared, and thus be rendered more palatable, and, as a consequence, more digestible; for it is a demonstrated fact that savory foods are far more easily digested than the same foods unsavored.
The art of serving and arranging dishes for the table is an accomplishment in itself. It is very reasonable that all things that go to make up beauty and harmony at the dinner table should add their full quota to the appetite, and, I was about to say, "to the digestion;" but will qualify the statement by saying, to the digestion if the appetite be not porcine.
Our commonest article of food is the potato. Let us see how potatoes—which contain only twenty per cent. of starch, as against eighty-eight per cent. in rice, and sixty-six per cent. in wheat flour—can be prepared as just mentioned. We will look for a moment at the manner in which they are usually served by the average cook:
1, boiled with their jackets on; 2, roasted in the embers; 3, roasted with meat; 4, fried; 5, mashed; 6, salad.
1. Potatoes boiled in their jackets are excellent if properly prepared. But there's the rub. The trouble is, they are too often allowed to boil slowly and too long, and thus become water-soaked, soggy, and solid, and proportionately indigestible. They should be put over a brisk fire, and kept at a brisk boil till done; then drain off the water, sprinkle a little salt over them, and return to the fire a moment to dry thoroughly, when you will find them bursting with their white, mealy contents.
2. Roasted potatoes are general favorites, and very digestible. A more agreeable flavor is imparted to them if roasted in hot embers (wood fire), care being used to keep them covered with the hot embers.
3. Fried potatoes, as they are very generally served, are almost as digestible as rocks, but not so tempting in all their grease-dripping beauty as the latter. Many of you have doubtless seen the potatoes neatly sliced and dumped into a frying pan full of hot lard, where they were permitted to sink or float, and soak and sob for about a half hour or more. When served, they presented the picturesque spectacle of miniature potato islands floating at liberty in a sea of yellow grease. Now, if any of you can relish and digest such a mess as that, I would advise you to leave this clime, and eat tallow candles with the Esquimaux.
If you are fond of fried potatoes, cook them in this way:
Take what boiled potatoes are left from breakfast or dinner; when cold, remove the jackets, and cut into thin slices, season with salt, pepper, and a little Cayenne; have ready a hot frying pan, with enough meat drippings or sweet lard to cover the bottom; put in the potatoes and fry a rich brown, stirring constantly with a knife to prevent burning. Serve very hot.
4. Mashed potatoes will be discussed further on.
5. Potato salads are appetizing and piquant, because they are usually made up with strong condiments, onions, etc. They are, therefore, not very digestible in themselves. Nevertheless, they are so palatable that we cannot easily dispense with them; but, after eating them, if you expect to have inward peace, either split wood, walk eight and a half miles, or take some other light exercise.
More palatable, and proportionately digestible, are the following methods of cooking this useful vegetable:
1, Saratoga potatoes; 2, a la maitre d'hotel; 3, potato croquettes; 4, potatoes and cream; 5, a la Lyonnaise.
1. For Saratogas, pare and slice your potatoes as thin as possible, dropping them into cold water in which is dissolved a tiny piece of alum to make them crisp. Let them remain in the water for an hour or longer. Drain, and wipe perfectly dry with a tea towel. Have ready a quantity of boiling lard. Drop them in, and fry a delicate brown. Drain all grease from them, sprinkle with salt, and serve. Here, in the crisp slices, you will have the much desired dextrine. Or, in other words, your potato is already half digested. Eat three or four potatoes prepared thus, and you feel no inconvenience; but how would you feel did you devour three soggy, water-soaked boiled potatoes?
2. For a la maitre d'hotel, pare the potatoes, cut into pieces half an inch wide, and the length of the potato; drop into cold water until wanted (an hour or so); then drain, and fry in boiling lard. Just as they begin to brown take them out with a skimmer; let them slightly cool; then put back, and fry a rich brown. This makes them puff up, and very attractive.
3. For croquettes, take finely mashed potatoes, and mix with salt, pepper, and butter, and sweet milk or cream enough to moisten thoroughly. Mix with this one well-beaten egg, and form into small balls, taking care to have them smooth. Have ready one plate with a beaten egg upon it, and another with cracker crumbs. Dip each ball into the egg, and then into the crumbs, and brown nicely. Lay the croquettes on brown paper first, to get rid of any superfluous grease, then serve on a napkin.
4. Potatoes and cream are prepared by mincing cold boiled potatoes fine, putting them in a spider with a little melted butter in it, and letting them fry slightly, keeping them well covered. Add a very small piece of fresh butter, season with pepper and salt, and pour over them cream or rich milk. Let them boil up once, and serve. This is a very nice dish, and may be safely taken into delicate stomachs.
5. A la Lyonnaise is prepared as follows: Take five cold potatoes, one onion, butter, salt, and pepper. Slice the onion finely, and fry it in butter until it begins to take color; add the sliced potatoes, salt and pepper to taste, and keep shaking the saucepan until they are somewhat browned. Serve hot.
A few random remarks about the preparation of albuminous foods. If the albumen in food is hardened by prolonged cooking, it is rendered less instead of more digestible. Therefore, the so-called well-cooked meats are really badly-cooked meats. Meats should be only half done, or rare. To do this properly, it is necessary to cook with a quick fire. Steaks should be broiled, not fried. I am in accord with a well-known orator, who said, recently, that "the person who fries a steak should be arrested for cruelty to humanity." Some few meats should always be well cooked before eating.[6]
The same law holds good with eggs as with meats. A hard-boiled egg is only fit for the stomach of an ostrich; it was never intended by nature to adorn the human stomach. There are very many ways of preparing eggs—by frying, baking, poaching, shirring, etc. I will only describe briefly a few simple methods of making omelets.
In making this elegant dish, never use more than three eggs to an omelet. Plain omelet: Separate the whites and yolks; add a teaspoonful of water to the whites, and beat to a stiff froth; add to the yolks a teaspoonful of water, and beat until light; then season with salt, and about two tablespoonfuls of cream or rich milk. Have your spider very hot; turn your whites and yolks together, and stir lightly to mix them; place a bit of butter in the spider, and immediately pour in your eggs. When set (which takes from ten to twenty seconds, and be careful that it does not brown too much), fold together in a half moon, remove it, sprinkle with powdered sugar, and serve on a hot plate. It should be eaten immediately.
Fruit omelets are made by placing preserved fruits or jellies between the folds. Baked omelets are prepared as above, with the addition of placing in the oven and allowing to brown slightly.
French omelet is prepared in this way: Take a half cup of boiling milk with a half teaspoonful of butter melted in it; pour this over one-half cup of bread crumbs (light bread); add salt, pepper, and the yolks of three eggs beaten very light; mix thoroughly; and lastly, add the whites whipped to a stiff froth. Stir lightly, and fry in butter. When nearly done, fold together in a half moon, and serve immediately.
And thus we might continue ad infinitum, but, as was stated before, it is not my object to instruct you in special cooking, but to illustrate in this manner how much easier it is, to both the cook and your stomachs, to prepare healthful dishes than to do the reverse.
[5]
Read before the Indiana State Sanitary Society, Seymour, March 13, 1884.—The Sanitarian.
[6]
These are the exceptions. Pork, on account of the prevalence of disease in hogs, should be well done.