spread them with any farce to taste, from d'Uxelles
or veal stuffing to foie gras, pinch them lightly
together, lay them on a buttered baking-sheet, dust
them with flour, and bake till nicely browned, and
serve with any nice sauce to taste. These paupiettes,
like rissoles and suchlike things, depend greatly on
their flavourings, and if success is to be attained
this must be carefully studied. For instance, with
white meat use velouté or béchamel for heating the
mince, season with grated lemon rind, mushrooms,
a tiny dash of nutmeg, and parsley, or use veal
stuffing; if brown meat is used, take rather strongly
flavoured brown or espagnole sauce, onion, boned
and minced anchovy, and even a suspicion of
Worcester sauce if liked.
The above will give a general idea of the methods
of serving up cold meat as practised by good cooks,
who, please remember, are all but invariably the
most economical in the long run. In England an
idea obtains that made dishes are necessarily insipid
and inevitably extravagant. If the preceding
recipes are intelligently and carefully followed, the
result will certainly not be liable to the complaint of
tastelessness. Whether they are extravagant or not
will depend entirely on the housekeeper and the
cook. For instance, if to make a dish of rissoles
you insist on opening a tin of button mushrooms, or
buying a lb. of fresh truffles, you certainly will not
err on the side of economy. But if you once manage
to make a cook understand the art of saving all her
odds and ends you will be astonished to find how far
these scraps will go in making tasty dishes. I have