Ethel Morton at Sweetbriar Lodge Part 31

"Even. I don't care what I do as long as I have time to get it up."

"You shall have plenty of time," promised Dorothy. "What I'm more interested in just now is what we're to have to eat on the festive night."

"Is Aunt Louise going to let us decide?"

"Subject to her veto, I suspect," smiled Helen.

Dorothy nodded.

"She says she wants something different from ice-cream and cake and chicken salad."

They all laughed, for Rosemont was noted for invariably having these three excellent but monotonous viands at all her teas and receptions and church entertainments.

"I move we have cold turkey," said Roger.

"It's rather early for turks, but we can have capon if we can't find a good turkey," replied Ethel Brown, who kept the run of the Rosemont market.

"Let's have little birds in aspic jelly," suggested Dorothy.

They all gurgled with pleasure at this idea.

"Squabs," went on Dorothy as her imagination began to work.

"Um," commented Roger, his eyes shut.

"Split them down the back, dip them into beaten egg and melted b.u.t.ter, sprinkle them with the finest bread crumbs and broil them."

"O," came a gentle murmur from Roger, who was deeply affected by the recital of this appetizing dish. "Where's the aspic?"

"You cut each squab in halves and put one-half in a mold and then you pour on the aspic."

"Dorothy, you talk as if you'd been doing birds in aspic all your life.

Did you ever cook them?"

"Once," dimpled Dorothy. "At cooking school."

"I know how to make aspic," declared Ethel Brown proudly.

"Let's have it."

"Soak a quarter of an ounce of vegetable gelatine in a pint of water for two hours; then add the strained juice of a lemon, pepper and salt and cayenne, two tablespoonfuls of Tarragon vinegar and another pint of water. Let it cook for a few minutes over a slow fire and then boil it for two or three minutes and strain it through a jelly bag over your birdies."

"O, you can't do that that way," cried Ethel Blue. "Their elbows will show through when they're turned out of their molds. You have to put in a layer of jelly and when it is stiffened a little put in your bird, and then pour the rest of the jelly over it."

"Correct," approved Dorothy. "We must be sure to have enough for each person to have a half bird in a mold. They are turned out at the last minute and a sprig of parsley is laid on top of each one."

"Help! Help!" came a faint cry from Roger. "I am swooning with joy at the sound of this delicious food. I'm so glad Aunt Louise is giving this party and not one of the chicken salad ladies of Rosemont."

"Aspic is good to know about for hot weather use," said Ethel Blue. "I've been meaning all summer to tell Della how to make it--she feels the heat so awfully."

"You can put all sorts of meats in it, I suppose."

"And vegetables; peas and beets and carrots very tender and cut very fine. Tomato jelly makes a good salad, too."

"You could make pretty little individual molds of that."

"What are we going to have for salad after these birds?" inquired Roger.

"Let's have alligator pear salad. It's as easy as fiddle. You just have to pare the alligators and take out their cores--"

"With a butcher's knife?" inquired Roger.

"--and cut them in halves lengthwise. Then you put the pieces on a pale yellow-green lettuce leaf, and pour French dressing over it, and there you are!"

"I like it all except the name," objected Roger.

"Christen it something else, and be happy," urged Helen.

"What for sweeties?" Roger demanded. "I'm going through this feast systematically."

"Don't go on to the sweeties until we've settled on the bread, then,"

insisted Ethel Brown, "I say Parker House rolls."

"Or pocket book rolls--the same thing, only smaller," said Ethel Blue.

"I haven't made any since we were at Chautauqua; I shall have to look them up again," confessed Dorothy.

"I remember," said Ethel Brown. "You scald two cups of milk and then put into it three tablespoonfuls of b.u.t.ter, two teaspoonfuls of sugar and a teaspoonful and a half of salt. When it has cooled off a little add a dissolved yeast cake and three cups of flour and beat it like everything."

"Command me on the day of the party," offered Roger politely.

"We will," giggled the girls, and they said it so earnestly that Roger gazed at them suspiciously.

"Cover it up and let it rise; then cut it through and through and knead in two and a half cups more flour. Let it rise again. Put it on a floured board, knead it, and roll it out to half an inch in thickness. Then cut out the rolls with a floured biscuit cutter. Brush one-half of each roll with melted b.u.t.ter and fold the round in halves."

"Won't they slide open?"

"Not if you pinch the edges together. Arrange them in your pan and cover them over so they can rise in comfort. Then bake them in a hot oven for from twelve to fifteen minutes," ended Ethel Brown.

"They aren't as easy as Della's lightning biscuits, but they're so good when they're done that you don't mind having taken the trouble about them."

"Now for the sweeties," insisted Roger. "I'm afraid you'll forget them and my tooth is as sweet as ever it was."

"Are frozen things absolutely forbidden?" inquired Dorothy.

"O, no, let's have one frozen thing. We're going to have some of the Rosemont people who aren't relatives, you know, and I hate to think of what they'd say about Aunt Louise if she didn't give them something frozen!" laughed Helen.

"Let's have frozen peaches, then. Make them in the proportion of two quarts of peaches to two cups of sugar, a quart of water, and the juice of a lemon and a half. You peel the peaches and take out the stones and rub the fruit through a colander. Put the peach pulp and the lemon juice into a syrup made by boiling the sugar and water together for five minutes and letting it cool. Pour it all into the freezer and grind it until it is firm."