Part 8 — THINGS IN SEASON, IN MARKET AND KITCHEN.

By LA MÉNAGÈRE.

lorious June! Can anyone complain of a lack of the least good thing? Rather we have un embarras de richesse; so much so, indeed, that we hardly know what to select for our typical menu. Look at the vegetable market, for instance. See the piles of snowy cauliflowers, the crisp cabbages and spinach, the quantities of salad stuffs, cucumbers, spring carrots and turnips, asparagus, artichokes, peas and French beans, while the very potatoes look attractive. Then see the fruit, the ever-welcome green gooseberries, strawberries, early raspberries, and ripe cherries galore. The fruiterers have golden apricots, nectarines, custard apples, and many other luscious things. The fishmongers are showing plovers’ eggs in their little nests of moss, the pinkest of prawns and crabs, scarlet lobsters in a garnish of parsley, magnificent salmon, salmon-trout, speckled trout, and beautiful fine soles, with mackerel that glisten like the whitebait.

Game is, of course, of no account now; but young chickens are coming to the fore, and pigeons are excellent, so also are the plovers.

Then look at the wealth of June blossom that is poured into the market. Can anything surpass the beauty of these roses? Lilies and hydrangeas, snowy narcissi, gorgeous tulips, iris, and peonies, and if you can find a sweeter or a more splendid flower than a blush peony of the Dutch variety, you will be clever indeed. Sweet mignonette, sweet peas, and still sweeter pinks, make the air quite heavy with their fragrance. Then we have quantities of beautiful grasses, mosses, ferns, and foliage plants here for all sorts of purposes, for June is the harvest month of the floral decorator. Dinners, balls, receptions, weddings, at homes—all make great demand on the markets this month.

The place of game at fashionable dinners is taken by plovers’ eggs, or by an aspic jelly. As the eggs are usually sold ready boiled, and require no accompaniment, we may leave them without further remark; but it might be useful here if we considered the making of a simple aspic jelly such as could be manufactured by the home cook.

Aspic Jelly.—Get a knuckle-bone of veal and one of ham and crack them in pieces. Put with them a large onion, with two cloves, a large carrot, a bunch of savoury herbs, and two quarts of water. Let these simmer gently in a brown stone jar for several hours, then strain off. To a pint of this stock (which should be perfectly clear) add one ounce of Swinborne’s isinglass previously soaked in cold water, also a teaspoonful of salt, a little pepper, a tablespoonful of tarragon vinegar; and then a wineglassful of strong sherry. Stir over the fire until it nearly boils, then break into the liquor the whites of two eggs and the shells, stir well, and draw to the side of the fire; let it simmer for a quarter of an hour, then strain through a jelly-bag three or four times until it is perfectly clear. Keep the mould in a very cold place until it is wanted. The quart should make two moulds of jelly. A good jelly will keep for some time, and is often most useful for an invalid.

An aspic of game or poultry makes an excellent luncheon dish, and will prove an easy and dainty way of serving up the remains of cold poultry, etc.

Pour some ready-made aspic jelly into the bottom of a plain round mould which has been wetted with cold water. Next make a layer of stars and diamonds from the white and yellow of a hard-boiled egg, a few fine sprigs of parsley, and the red part of a cold tongue here and there. Let this set, then lay on thin slices of cold fowl and ham, leaving plenty of space to run more jelly in between. Fill the mould up to the top with jelly, then put it away to set. When quite stiff turn it out on to a dish.

Suppose that for our June menu we take the following:

Bisque of Crab. Devilled Whitebait. Grenadines of Veal. Jardinière Sauce. Aspic Jelly. Saddle of Lamb. French Beans. Gooseberry Tart. Cream Cheese. Oaten Wafers. Coffee.

Bisque of Crab.—Wash well in several waters half a pound of the best rice, put it into a saucepan with a quart of the best clear white stock, and add a little milk. Add also an onion, a small piece of cinnamon, a little salt and pepper and a good bit of butter. Let the rice simmer a long while, then add to it the pith from the body of a freshly-boiled crab, and another pint of milk or stock. Rub all carefully through a sieve, then pour it into a stewpan with the flesh from the claws torn into flakes, add a teaspoonful of the essence of anchovies, a teaspoonful of arrowroot dissolved in a little milk, and a few drops of cochineal to deepen the colour. At the last moment, before serving, after the soup has boiled up once, add a small cupful of hot cream.

Devilled Whitebait.—To fry whitebait a good depth of clear frying fat is needed, and a frying basket in which the fish can all be plunged into the fat at once. They should be carefully wiped, then lightly shaken in a well-floured cloth, just so as to coat them sufficiently. Plunge into boiling fat for about three minutes, then withdraw them from the fat, sprinkle them with black and red pepper, return to the pan for another minute, then drain and serve on a napkin with fried parsley as a garnish. Send quarters of lemon and brown bread and butter to table with them.

Grenadines of Veal, Jardinière Sauce.—A slice of the best lean fillet of veal, about two-thirds of an inch thick, should be shaped into small pieces, and then dipped into beaten egg and into a mixture of breadcrumbs, minced ham and seasoning. Fry these carefully on both sides to a light brown, then put between two plates and stand in a hot oven.

For the sauce take a pint of stock, and one onion, a large carrot, a turnip, a few French beans, a few peas, and any other available vegetable. Mince these finely and evenly, fry them in dripping, drain and add to the stock. Thicken this with a spoonful of potato flour, and season highly. Boil gently for a while, then pour in the centre of a hot dish and set the grenadines around the edge. Let boiled potatoes (small ones) accompany this dish.

The saddle of lamb should be simply roasted and served with its own gravy; the French beans boiled first, then sautéd, in butter with chopped parsley, and potatoes, if liked, treated the same way. Pass mint sauce around as well.

Cream should accompany the gooseberry tart, and strawberries with cream might appear at the same time, or in lieu of the tart as preferred.

A roast duck and green peas might take the place of the saddle of lamb, according as means and circumstances permit.