The Belgian Cook-Book by Mrs. Brian Luck Published: 1915

Next Chapter: Part I »

THE BELGIAN COOK-BOOK

EDITED BY

MRS. BRIAN LUCK


1915


"Lucullus, whom frugality could charm,
Ate roasted turnips at the Sabine Farm."




PREFACE

The recipes in this little book have been sent by Belgian refugees from
all parts of the United Kingdom, and it is through the kindness of these
correspondents that I have been able to compile it. It is thought, also,
that British cooking may benefit by the study of Belgian dishes.

The perfect cook, like Mrs. 'Arris or the fourth dimension, is often
heard of, but never actually found, so this small manual is offered for
the use of the work-a-day and inexperienced mistress and maid. It is not
written in the interests of millionaires. The recipes are simple, and
most inexpensive, rather for persons of moderate means than for those who
can follow the famous directions for a certain savory: "Take a leg of
mutton," etc. A shelf of provisions should be valued, like love-making,
not only for itself but for what it may become.

SAVORIES: If you serve these, let them be, like an ankle, small and neat
and alluring. This dish is not obligatory; recollect that it is but a
culinary work of supererogation.

SOUP: Let your soup be extremely hot; do not let it be like the
Laodiceans. You know what St. John said about them, and you would be
sorry to think of your soup sharing the fate which he describes with such
saintly verve. Be sure that your soup has a good foundation, and avoid
the Italian method of making _consomme_, which is to put a pot of
water on to warm and to drive a cow past the door.

FISH: It is a truism to say that fish should be absolutely fresh, yet
only too many cooks think, during the week-end, that fish is like the
manna of the Hebrews, which was imbued with Sabbatarian principles that
kept it fresh from Saturday to Monday. I implore of you to think
differently about fish. It is a most nourishing and strengthening food
--other qualities it has, too, if one must believe the anecdote of the
Sultan Saladin and the two anchorites.

MEAT: If your meat must be cooked in water, let it not boil but merely
simmer; let the pot just whisper agreeably of a good dish to come. Do you
know what an English tourist said, looking into a Moorish cooking-pot?
"What have you got there? Mutton and rice?" "For the moment, Sidi, it is
mutton and rice," said the Moorish cook; "but in two hours, inshallah,
when the garlic has kissed the pot, it will be the most delicious
comforter from Mecca to Casa Blanca." Simmer and season, then, your
meats, and let the onion (if not garlic) just kiss the pot, even if you
allow no further intimacy between them. Use bay-leaves, spices, herbs of
all sorts, vinegar, cloves; and never forget pepper and salt.

Game is like Love, the best appreciated when it begins to go. Only
experience will teach you, on blowing up the breast feathers of a
pheasant, whether it ought to be cooked to-day or to-morrow. Men, as a
rule, are very particular about the dressing of game, though they may not
all be able to tell, like the Frenchman, upon which of her legs a
partridge was in the habit of sitting. Game should be underdone rather
than well done; it should never be without well-buttered toast underneath
it to collect the gravy, and the knife to carve it with should be very,
very sharp.

VEGETABLES: Nearly all these are at their best (like brunettes) just
before they are fully matured. So says a great authority, and no doubt he
is thinking of young peas and beans, lettuces and asparagus. Try to dress
such things as potatoes, parsnips, cabbages, carrots, in other ways than
simply boiled in water, for the water often removes the flavor and leaves
the fiber. Do not let your vegetable-dishes remind your guests of
Froissart's account of Scotchmen's food, which was "rubbed in a little
water."

SWEETS: It is difficult to give any general directions for sweets. They
should be made to look attractive, and they should be constantly varied.
The same remarks apply to savories, which last ought always to be highly
seasoned, whether hot or cold.

MADE DISHES are a great feature in this little book. I have tried to help
those small households who cook, let us say, a leg of mutton on Sunday,
and then see it meander through the week in various guises till it ends
its days honorable as soup on the following Friday. Endeavor to hide from
your husband that you are making that leg of mutton almost achieve
eternal life. It is noticeable that men are attracted to a house where
there is good cooking, and the most unapproachable beings are rendered
accessible by the pleasantness of a _souffle_, or the aroma of a
roast duck. You must have observed that a certain number of single men
have their hearts very "wishful" towards their cook. Not infrequently
they marry that cook; but it is less that she is a good and charming
woman than that she is a good and charming cook. Ponder this, therefore;
for I have known men otherwise happy, who long for a good beef-steak
pudding as vainly as the Golden Ass longed for a meal of roses. Try
these recipes, for really good rissoles and hashes. Twice-cooked meat can
always be alleviated by mushrooms or tomatoes. Remember that the
discovery of a new dish is of more use than the discovery of a new star,
--besides which, you will get much more praise for it. And if on Wednesday
you find that you have to eat the same part of the very same animal that
you had on Monday, do not, pray, become exasperated; treat it
affectionately, as I treat my black hat, which becomes more ravishing
every time that I alter it. Only, do not buy extravagant make-weight for
a scrap of cold meat that would be best used in a mince patty, or you
will be like a man keeping a horse in order to grow mushrooms.

And, lastly, the good cook must learn about food what every sensible
woman learns about love--how best to utilize the cold remains.

M. LUCK.

Next Chapter: Part I »