Abraham Lincoln in the Kitchen (23 page)

Mr. Lincoln remarked, smiling, that he supposed I had had some experience in cabinet-making; that he had a job on hand, and as he had never learned the trade, he was disposed to avail himself of the suggestions of friends. Taking up his figure, I replied, “that though never a boss cabinet-maker, I had as a journeyman been occasionally consulted about State cabinets.…”

Mr. Lincoln observed that “the making of a cabinet, now that he had it to do, was by no means as easy as he has supposed.…”

In this way the conversation being alternately earnest and playful, two days passed very pleasantly.… I wish it were possible to give, in Mr. Lincoln's amusing but quaint manner, the many stories, anecdotes, and witticisms with which he interlarded and enlivened what with almost any of his predecessors in the high office of President would have been a grave, dry consultation.

While at breakfast,
Judge Davis, noticing that, after having been bountifully served with sausage, Oliver Twist like, I wanted some more, said, “You seem fond of our Illinois sausages.” To which I responded affirmatively, adding that I thought the article might be relied on where pork was cheaper than dogs. “That,” said Mr. Lincoln, “reminds me of what occurred down at Joliet, where a popular grocer supplied all of the villagers with sausages. One Saturday evening when his grocery was filled with customers, for whom he and his boys were busily engaged in weighing sausages, a neighbor with whom he had had a violent quarrel that day, came into the grocery, made
his way up to the counter, holding two enormous dead cats by the tail, which he deliberately threw on to the counter, saying, ‘This makes seven to-day. I'll call around Monday, and get my money for them.' ”

That reminds me of a fellow out in Illinois who had better luck than any one in the neighborhood. He had a rusty old gun no other man dared handle; he never seemed to exert himself, being listless and indifferent when out after
game, but he always brought home all the chickens he could carry, while some of the others, with their finely trained dogs and latest improved fowling-pieces came home alone.

“How is it, Jake?” inquired one sportsman, who, although a good shot, and knew something about
hunting, was often unfortunate, “that you never come home without a lot of birds?”

Jake grinned, half closed his eyes, and replied; “Oh, I don't know that there's anything queer about it. I jes' go and git 'em.”

“Yes, I know you do; but how do you do it?”

“You'll tell.”

“Honest, Jake, I won't say a word. Hope to drop dead this minute.”

“Never say nothing, if I tell you?”

“Cross my heart three times.”

This reassured Jake, who put his mouth close to the ear of his eager questioner, and said, in a whisper:

“All you got to do is jes' to hide in a fence corner an' make a noise like a turnip. That'll bring the chickens every time.”

This reminds me of an old acquaintance. “Jack” Chase a lumberman on the Illinois [River], a steady sober man, and the best raftsman on the river. It was quite a trick to take the logs on the rapids; but he was skillful with a raft and always kept her straight in the channel. Finally a steamboat was put on and “Jack” was made captain of her. He always used to take the wheel, going through the rapids. One day when the boat was plunging and wallowing along the boiling current, and “Jack's” utmost vigilance was being exercised to keep her in the narrow channel, a boy pulled his coat-tail and hailed him with:

“Say, Mister Captain! I wish you would just stop your boat a minute—I've lost my
apple overboard!”

STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM

 

It's hard to find a more refreshing treat than period fruit ice creams. Made from half fruit and juice and half milk and cream, the dessert is like a beautiful blending of Italian ice and rich ice cream. The icy fruit melts quickly on your tongue while the creamy half lingers flavorfully. But don't analyze it too much. Just spoon out a dish and enjoy
.

Mix the berries and sugar and let stand, stirring from time to time, until the sugar dissolves. Then mash the berries and measure. You should have 3 cups. Stir in the cream and milk. Freeze according to the directions on your ice-cream maker. If you don't have an ice-cream freezer, pour the mixture into a shallow metal bowl and put it in your freezer. Beat occasionally with an electric mixer once the ice cream begins to freeze.

Makes about 1 ½ quarts

ADAPTED FROM PERIOD SOURCES.

CHICKEN SALAD

 

Up until the 1950s, unless you lived on a farm, chicken was reserved for special occasions. In Springfield a century earlier, much of the fowl enjoyed by the Lincolns and their neighbors was wild
game, brought in by local hunters and sold in the stores or served in restaurants. Chicken salad would have been a rare treat. The usual homemade dressing can be considered a culinary cousin to the not-yet-widely-available mayonnaise. The sharply flavored mixture uses a hard-boiled egg yolk and mustard as the binders. Equal amounts of chicken and lettuce or celery make a particularly light, yet satisfying dish
.

Make the dressing by mashing together egg yolk, mustard, and olive oil until smooth in a small bowl. Gradually stir in vinegar with a fork or whisk until the dressing is smoothly blended. Then toss the dressing with chicken and celery. Taste and add salt and pepper as desired. Chill salad. Toss with the shredded lettuce right before serving. Garnish with diced egg white.

Makes 4 cups of chicken salad, for eight ½-cup servings

ADAPTED FROM PERIOD SOURCES.

NUTMEG DOUGHNUTS

 

Occasionally called “Yankee nuts,” nineteenth-century doughnuts were frequently small and diamond shaped. Cream of tartar gives these easy-to-make treats a lightness, while the hint of nutmeg brings just enough spice. It is the kind of treat Tad and Willie Lincoln could have enjoyed by the handful
.

Combine the flour, sugar, cream of tartar, baking soda, and nutmeg. Cut the cold butter into the dry ingredients until it disappears. Quickly stir in milk and mix with fork. Once the dough begins to form, knead it with your hands into a smooth dough. You may need up to a tablespoon additional milk, added 1 teaspoon at a time.

Roll out the dough to ½-inch thickness on a lightly floured surface. Cut into rectangles or diamonds, about 1 × 2 inches, with a jagging iron or sharp knife. A jagging iron is a rotary cutting tool with a zigzag cutting edge.

TO FRY:
If you have a deep-fat fryer follow its directions. Or carefully heat about 2 inches of fat in a deep frying pan with sides at least 3 inches tall. Heat the fat to 365°F. Carefully place a few doughnuts at a time in the hot fat. Fry until golden, turning them over as they rise to the top and the bottoms brown. Drain on paper towels.

Makes about 3 dozen small doughnuts

ADAPTED FROM “EXTEMPORE DOUGHNUTS,” ELIZABETH NICHOLSON,
WHAT I KNOW, OR, HINTS ON THE DAILY DUTIES OF A HOUSEKEEPER
, 1855.

MUTTON HARICO

 

This recipe appears in several mid-nineteenth-century cookbooks. Left to simmer on the back of a wood-burning stove, it was a meal that practically cooked itself. In today's kitchens, the slow cooker can fill in once the meat is browned. It is also a dish that improves when the flavors have a chance to mellow, so make enough for two meals
.

Mix herbs, spices, salt, and pepper together and rub into the meat. Heat 2 tablespoons of the butter or oil in a large, heavy frying pan with a lid. Brown the lamb on both sides and cover with boiling water. Cover, lower the heat, and simmer for about a half hour. Add carrots, turnips, onion, and celery, then cover again and continue simmering until tender, about another half hour. Harico can stay barely simmering on the stove, flavors melding, for as long as an hour. Serve the meat surrounded by the vegetables. Mashed potatoes would be a good side dish or, for a particularly hectic dinnertime, just have bread and butter.

Makes 4 servings

ADAPTED FROM “MUTTON HARICO,” MISS ELIZA LESLIE,
DIRECTIONS FOR COOKERY IN ITS VARIOUS BRANCHES
, 1845.