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Classic
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page 81
come? My wife is ill in bed; the cook left us yesterday, and there isn't a thing
to eat in the house!" Having Yankee blood and French blood in my veins, I was
not to be downed by such trifling obstacles, but accepted the situation at once
and answered: "If you will allow me to go into your kitchen and get some one to
help me I will see what can be done." The answer was, "We'll all help you, for
we are very hungry and it is past two o'clock." I looked into the larder, and
there I found a desperate looking bone, the remnant of a leg of mutton, with two
cold potatoes. I cut into small pieces what I could find of meat; I did the same
with the potatoes, and put them to simmer with a little cold water, salt and
pepper. I sent the boys to the garden to see what they could find. They soon
came back with fresh tomatoes, lettuce, parsley and onions. I added a little
parsley and onion to my Irish stew; then I boiled six eggs for twenty minutes;
made a nice white sauce with cream, butter and a little flour, flavoring it with
a piece of onion, parsley, cayenne pepper; cut the eggs in half, put them in the
cream sauce in a double saucepan until ready to serve, des “ufs la Morelle.
A fisherwoman in Deauville, France, taught me how to make this dish. Then I
sliced some tomatoes, salted and peppered and powdered them with crumbs of
toasted bread, fried them in hot butter, put them in a hot dish, poached six
eggs and put them on the fried tomatoes, made some dip toast, a nice French
dressing for the lettuce and some good hot coffee, and in an hour and a half we
all sat down to lunch in jolly spirits. The lady of the house paid me the
compliment to say it was the best tasting breakfast ever had in her house.
The English butler recognized me later in life as the lady who always cooked her
own lunch when she went out.
A lady once said to my dear mother: "I wish you would lend me your cookery book,
I want to ask you
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