1902 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
743 
Is this Accurate? 
WHAT DO FARM HOUSEWIVES SAY OF THIS 
CRITICISM ? 
They have been rambling a little. 
People who cannot afford to go to Sum¬ 
mer resorts, yet need some change in 
ihe routine of mental labor, must do the 
thing they can do, and their old horse 
«nd shabby phaeton—a second-hand ve¬ 
hicle when they bought it—were press¬ 
ed into service for drives about the 
country, there being this one grain of 
good in a dwindling business, that it 
gives time for some recreation, so that 
‘die” could drive and “she” could get a 
cheap outing, which both she and he 
enjoyed. But what struck them both, 
in these highway and by-way rambles, 
was the deficiency in farmhouse cook¬ 
ing, the waste of good material, the ab¬ 
solute ignorance of method, a few ex¬ 
amples of which may be of use. At one 
farmhouse they stayed over a Summer’s 
night. Here was no poverty to contend 
with, as the numerous well-filled barns, 
the flocks of poultry, the herd of sleek 
cows, the pair of fine horses, and yokes 
of cattle, all testified, but what did the 
farmers eat? For dinner, a generous 
piece of meat was set on the table, cut 
out of some part of the “beef-crittei'” 
unknown to science, tough, tasteless, 
and swamped in equally tasteless gravy 
as it was helped; mashed potato full of 
lumps and streaks, with no more taste 
or savoriness than the unsalted vege¬ 
table fresh from the pot; rank peas, 
swimming in greasy water, to be eaten 
in saucers with teaspoons; boiled squash 
in all its native squashiness; white 
bread that evidently had lain long in a 
musty jar, and was only a little more 
musty than the butter; to alter a well- 
known line, “The scent of the cellar 
would hang round them still.” You 
could understand that in that dark, 
damp cellar, potatoes had been housed 
all Winter and were still sprouting or 
moldering in corners, that apple barrels 
exhaled the odor of their past contents 
there, that mold and cobwebs hung on 
the slimy partitions, that the floor was 
never swept or sprinkled with any dis¬ 
infectant, that the walls were never 
wiped or brushed off and thoroughly 
whitewashed. The house reeked of this 
unwholesome atmosphere, and the 
barns, clustered closely about it, impart¬ 
ed a certain unpleasant flavor to the well 
water, drawn from an enclosed, unventi¬ 
lated well in the back kitchen, which 
was “so handy!” Dessert was pie, pie 
of the greenest apples, stewed into a 
tasteless mass, the crust sandy with poor 
lard and damp flour, the whole washed 
down by that abominable cheap “Japan” 
tea, peddled about New England, un¬ 
known to China, telling its own story of 
adulteration and cent per cent profit to 
the manufacturer. Supper was garnish¬ 
ed by various sorts of cake, strong new 
cheese, fermented preserved peaches (no 
doubt lodged in that same cellar), and 
the abominable tea, musty bread, and 
melting butter again. Ice seemed to be 
an unknown factor in this family exist¬ 
ence. Breakfast brought, once more, the 
undrinkable tea, the meat of the day 
before warmed up in the old gravy, more 
mashed potato, codfish picked up and 
soaked out of all saltiness, till it might 
as well have been a hash of fresh fish 
quite unseasoned, and more bread and 
butter. And the farmer’s family have 
grown up into dyspepsia, fearful sick 
headaches, malaria and a succession, in 
Winter, of severe colds, threatening 
pneumonia and congestion, beside rheu¬ 
matism bending the kindly old couple 
froni their young erectness, and neural¬ 
gia torturing the languid-eyed children, 
who ought to be fresh as the milky 
daisies and pink wild roses waving about 
them everywhere. 
“What does make these country folks 
MOTHERS.—Be sure to use “Mrs.Wins¬ 
low’s Soothing Syrup” for your children 
while Teething. It is the Best.— Adv. 
so miserable as to their health?” said 
he, as the old horse jogged on his way 
next morning. 
“Innutrition,” she answered curtly. 
“Why, they had enough to eat.” 
“Could you eat it?” 
“I did, for I was hungry.” 
“Did you like it?” 
“No; I never do like things away from 
home.” 
“H’m!” she said, with a fierce femin¬ 
ine sniff. 
He laughed. “Tell me then, madam, 
what would you have done to make 
those meals palatable?” 
“To begin with, I would have had 
more air in my pantry. I did not inves¬ 
tigate, but I know, almost as well as if 
I did, that their pantry is on the north 
side of the house, looking toward all 
those barns, with one small window, 
heavily slatted if not curtained, and the 
flour barrel, no doubt, stands on the 
floor, shut into a small closet made for 
it, rigidly closed up; so much for the 
flour, which can get damp and musty at 
leisure. The bread, I also believe, is 
kept in a tight tin pail or a stone jar on 
the cellar floor. Now, I’d have two large 
windows cut in that pantry and put 
green blinds on them. I’d abolish the 
flour closet and set the barrel on high 
skids where the air would freely circu¬ 
late round it, and I’d let the bread, after 
baking, cool thoroughly in a draught in 
the kitchen, then I’d put it in a clean 
tin box or pan and throw a piece of mos¬ 
quito netting over it. They sell their 
milk and buy their butter, so there is 
not much help for that, but a refrigera¬ 
tor, if it was only a dry-goods box with 
a hole in it and a carpet for the ice, 
would be one of my ‘must haves.’ ” 
“But that means an icehouse.” 
“And I would have one, if only for 
health’s sake; sell the Brussels carpet 
in the parlor and have a painted floor, 
far wholesomer and more appropriate, 
and put up an icehouse. Then that din¬ 
ner! If I had to buy such a piece of 
meat, I would cut it into slices, put it 
in an earthen stewpan with half an 
onion, two or three slices of carrot, some 
pepper and salt, a little hot water, cover 
it close and stew it from morning till 
noon, then add some cold potato, some 
celery salt, or a pinch of clove, thicken 
the gravy with a spoonful of flour 
rubbed into butter, and serve it hot. It 
would be tender, savory and digestible. 
I would have boiled those potatoes thor¬ 
oughly, mashed them till not a lump was 
left, put in plenty of salt, butter and hot 
milk, then mashed them more till they 
were light and creamy, and put them in 
a hot dish. The squash wanted salt, pep¬ 
per and cream; it had no taste but its 
own sweetish, squashy flavor, and I’d 
have good tea or go without it. Pickles 
I would utterly omit. There was a gar¬ 
den full of neglected currant bushes— 
trimmed and manured they would yield 
bushels—and nothing is better with din¬ 
ner than currant jelly or spiced cur¬ 
rants, if one must have some vinegar. 
Then what pie!” 
“I know, madam, you hate pie, but I 
suppose they needed some dessert.” 
“They wouldn’t, and ought not to if 
they had good dinners; but why not 
have a nice baked custard? milk and 
eggs were plentiful; or a rice pudding, 
or an Indian meal pudding, or any other 
of the hundred cheap, wholesome, palat¬ 
able things so easily made out of ma¬ 
terials right at hand.” 
“I have known even you to make pie, 
though.” 
“Yes, a tribute to the weakness of 
man! But my pies never are made with 
lard, the crust is crisp, flaky, savory, and 
the filling of good ripe fruit, or well 
stewed and flavored ripe squash. These 
good people would not believe in such a 
use of butter.” 
“I don’t care about the supper, for I 
never do; the cake was good enough.” 
“It was cake, and unwholesome. If 
one must have sweet, farinaceous things 
at night, plain gingerbread, or the old- 
fashioned ‘rusk’ with stewed fruit is 
better than what they use for this meal. 
Cheese is only for after dinner; few peo¬ 
ple can bear it at night.” 
“But how would you have bettered 
the breakfast?” 
“I’d have taken the cold meat and 
minced it fine, put it in a stew pan or 
fryer with a little hot water, thickened 
it with flour and butter, and poured it 
on pieces of dry buttered toast, on a hot 
platter. I would have freshened the fish 
but a little, and stewed it in cream, add¬ 
ing pepper at once, and putting in a 
thickening of flour just as it was taken 
up. I would have heated a cupful of 
milk, melted the size of an egg of but¬ 
ter in it, cut the cold potatoes into dice, 
or slices, turned the milk and butter 
over them in a frying pan, salted and 
peppered them, dusted them well with 
flour from the dredger, and covering 
them tight, set them back on the stove 
to simmer till breakfast time. A few 
baking powder biscuit could be made in 
10 minutes and baked in 15 more, and 
what an appetizing breakfast we should 
have had! Why don’t our farmers’ 
wives and daughters learn to cook?”— 
Rose Terry Cooke, in Good Housekeep¬ 
ing. 
Rural Recipes. 
Brazil Nut Cake.—Two cupfuls sugar, 
six eggs, one tablespoonful warm water, 
two teaspoonfuls cream of tartar, one 
teaspoonful soda, a little salt, two well- 
filled cups of flour, one pound Brazil 
nuts blanched and grated. Bake in a 
loaf. Cover with boiled frosting flavored 
with almond. 
Cider Jelly Pie.—This is a tested old- 
fashioned recipe. A half pint of boiled 
cider, a cupful of brown sugar, a cupful 
of boiling water and two tablespoonfuls 
of cornstarch. Stir the cornstarch into 
the cider, add the other ingredients and 
cook for 10 minutes. Fill into a pastry- 
lined pie tin and cover with an upper 
crust. 
Crumb Griddle Cakes.—Brown a cup¬ 
ful of the bread crumbs. Make a batter 
with them, two tablespoonfuls of flour, 
a saltspoonful each of salt and sugar, a 
teaspoonful of baking powder and milk 
enough to make a batter that will pour 
from the spoon. Bake on a hot griddle. 
This batter should not be allowed to 
stand, as the crumbs are less delicious 
if they are soaked until they are soft. 
Peach Cake.—Mix together one pint of 
flour, two teaspoonfuls of baking pow¬ 
der, half a teaspoonful of salt and one 
gill of sugar. Rub through a sieve and 
add a gill and a half of milk, one well- 
beaten egg and three tablespoonfuls of 
melted butter. Spread this in a well-but¬ 
tered shallow cake pan and cover with 
peaches pared and cut in halves. 
Sprinkle with three tablespoonfuls of 
sugar, and bake for half an hour in a 
moderate oven. Serve hot with cream 
and sugar. 
THERE IS A CLASS OF PEOPLE 
Who are injured by the use of coffee. Recently 
there has been placed in all the fjrocery stores a 
new preparation called GRAIN-O, made of pure 
grains, that takes the place of coffee. The most 
delicate stomach receives it without distress, and 
but few can tell it from coffee. It does not cost 
over one-quarter as much. Children may drink 
it with great benefit. 15c. and 25c. per package. 
Try it. Ask for GRAIN-O. 
When you write advertisers mention The 
R. N.-Y. and you will get a quick reply and 
“a square deal.” See our guarantee 8th page. 
Some Coffees 
are Glazed 
with a cheap coating. 
If glazing helps coffee 
why aren't the high- 
priced Mochas and Javas 
glazed also? 
Lion Coffee 
is not glazed. It is per¬ 
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The Boalod package Insures uni¬ 
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