PASTRY.


TO MAKE good puff paste is a thing many ladies are anxious to do, and in
which they generally fail, and this not so much because they do not make
it properly, as because they handle it badly. A lady who was very
anxious to excel in pastry once asked me to allow her to watch me make
paste. I did so, and explained that there was more in the manner of
using than in the making up. I then gave her a piece of my paste when
completed, and asked her to cover some patty pans while I covered
others, cautioning her as to the way she must cover them; yet, when
those covered by her came out of the oven they had not risen at all,
they were like rich short paste; while my own, made from the same paste,
were toppling over with lightness. I had, without saying anything,
pressed my thumb slightly on one spot of one of mine; in that spot the
paste had not risen at all, and I think this practical demonstration of
what I had tried to explain was more useful than an hour's talk would
have been.

I will first give my method of making, which is the usual French way of
making "_feuilletonage_." Take one pound of butter, or half of it lard;
press all the water out by squeezing it in a cloth; this is important,
as the liquid in it would wet your paste; take a third of the butter, or
butter and lard, and rub it into one pound of _fine_ flour; add no salt
if your butter is salted; then take enough water (to which you may add
the well-beaten white of an egg, but it is not absolutely necessary) to
make the flour into a smooth, firm dough; it must not be too stiff, or
it will be hard to roll out, or too soft, or it will never make good
paste; it should roll easily, yet not stick; work it till it is very
smooth, then roll it out till it is half an inch thick; now lay the
whole of the butter in the center, fold one-third the paste over, then
the other third; it is now folded in three, with the butter completely
hidden; now turn the ends toward you, and roll it till it is half an
inch thick, taking care, by rolling very evenly, that the butter is not
pressed out at the other end; now you have a piece of paste about two
feet long, and not half that width; flour it lightly, and fold _over_
one third and under one third, which will almost bring it to a square
again; turn it round so that what was the side is now the end, and roll.
Most likely now the butter will begin to break through, in which case
fold it, after flouring lightly, in three, as before, and put it on a
dish on the ice, covering it with a damp cloth. You may now either leave
it for an hour or two, or till next day. Paste made the day before it is
used is much better and easier to manage, and in winter it may be kept
for four or five days in a cold place, using from it as required.

When ready to use your paste finish the making by rolling it out,
dredging a _little_ flour, and doubling it in three as before, and roll
it out thin; do this until from first to last it has been so doubled and
rolled seven times.

Great cooks differ on one or two points in making pastry; for instance,
Soyer directs you to put the yolk of an egg instead of the white, and a
squeeze of lemon juice into the flour, and expressly forbids you to
work it before adding the mass of butter, while Jules Gouffé says, "work
it until smooth and shining." I cannot pretend to decide between these
differing doctors, but I pursue the method I have given and always have
light pastry. And now to the handling of it: It must only be touched by
the lightest fingers, every cut must be made with a sharp knife, and
done with one quick stroke so that the paste is not dragged at all; in
covering a pie dish or patty pan, you are commonly directed to mold the
paste over it as thin as possible, which conveys the idea that the paste
is to be pressed over and so made thin; this would destroy the finest
paste in the world; roll it thin, say for small tartlets, less than a
quarter of an inch thick, for a pie a trifle thicker, then lay the dish
or tin to be covered on the paste, and cut out with a knife, dipped in
_hot_ water or flour, a piece a little larger than the mold, then line
with the piece you have cut, touching it as little as possible; press
only enough to make the paste adhere to the bottom, but on no account
press the border; to test the necessity of avoiding this, gently press
one spot on a tart, before putting it in the oven, only so much as many
people always do in making pie, and watch the result. When your tartlets
or pies are made, take each up on your left hand, and with a sharp knife
dipped in flour trim it round quickly. To make the cover of a pie adhere
to the under crust, lay the forefinger of your right hand lengthwise
round the border, but as far from the edge as you can, thus forming a
groove for the syrups, and pressing the cover on at the same time. A
word here about fruit pies: Pile the fruit high in the center, leaving a
space all round the sides almost bare of fruit, when the cover is on
press gently the paste, as I have explained, into this groove, then
make two or three deep holes in the groove; the juice will boil out of
these holes and run round this groove, instead of boiling out through
the edges and wasting.

This is the pastry-cook's way of making pies, and makes a much handsomer
one than the usual flat method, besides saving your syrup. To ornament
fruit pies or tartlets, whip the white of an egg, and stir in as much
powdered sugar as will make a thin meringue--a large tablespoonful is
usually enough--then when your pies or tartlets are baked, take them
from the oven, glaze with the egg and sugar, and return to the oven,
leaving the door open; when it has set into a frosty icing they are
ready to serve.

It is worth while to accomplish puff paste, for so many dainty trifles
may be made with it, which, attempted with the ordinary short paste,
would be unsightly. Some of these that seem to me novel I will describe.

Rissolettes are made with trimmings of puff paste; if you have about a
quarter of a pound left, roll it out very thin, about as thick as a
fifty-cent piece; put about half a spoonful of marmalade or jam on it,
in places about an inch apart, wet lightly round each, and place a piece
of paste over all; take a small round cutter as large as a dollar, and
press round the part where the marmalade or jam is with the thick part
of the cutter; then cut them out with a cutter a size larger, lay them
on a baking tin, brush over with white of egg; then cut some little
rings the size of a quarter dollar, put one on each, egg over again, and
bake twenty minutes in a nice hot oven; then sift white sugar all over,
put them back in the oven to glaze; a little red currant jelly in each
ring looks pretty; serve in the form of a pyramid.
