Kitabı oku: «Six Cups of Coffee»
PREFACE
It is not much to say that nine-tenths of that decoction which passes under the name of coffee, is unworthy to be so called, and that many persons live and die without ever tasting a really good cup of that delicious beverage.
As a nation, the American people want the best of everything, and intend to have that best. Furthermore, they are very properly and intelligently eager to turn it to the greatest advantage. But what avails the best raw material if it be not prepared in such a manner as to develop and secure its subtle, delicate, volatile and enlivening qualities? The very same ingredients may be injurious and depressing, or wholesome and exhilarating, according to the way in which they are treated.
The six cups of coffee offered to the reader, by six of the foremost authorities regarding cooking, will bring a new and healthful stimulus to prepare that refreshing drink in a manner which shall leave nothing to be desired. They are not made from old grounds re-heated for the occasion, but are as fresh as the intelligence and the experience which have produced them.
A country which expends nearly thirty-five millions of dollars each year for the aromatic berry, can well afford to study the best methods of extracting its desirable qualities.
In those family circles where Good Housekeeping is the rule, not the exception, it is to be hoped that this little book will be welcomed as a useful friend and interesting companion.
COFFEE – I.
As Prepared By Maria Parloa
IN war times, after a battle or a long march, how the soldiers enjoyed their coffee! And in many cases it was pretty poor coffee, too, though to them it seemed fit for the gods. The delicious aroma which arose made their feelings of weariness or depression vanish for a while, and the beverage itself cheered them in a marked degree. Nothing could take its place; nothing can take its place to-day. The consumption of coffee in this country is enormous. Rich and poor alike must have it. But it is a common complaint that a cup of good coffee is the exception rather than the rule. Considering the low price of the raw material, this should not be the case. People are prone to think that they know all there is to be known about coffee, and do not take pains to learn what special qualities different brands possess, and what the most approved modes of making coffee are.
Time was when a Mexican or South or Central American coffee was considered an inferior article. To-day some of the best coffees come from these places. For example, one of the most delicious coffees which is brought into this country comes from Guatemala. It bears the name of "Las Nubes" (The Clouds), which it takes from the plantation where it is grown. There is an odd bit of history connected with this plantation. A Scotchman named Nelson owned it, and was coining money from it, when he was banished from the country by President Barrios, and his property was confiscated. It is now owned by the widow of Barrios. The annual yield from it is four hundred and fifty thousand pounds. A large proportion of this goes to England, where it brings a higher price than here.
There are two kinds of coffee, – the strong and the mild. To the first class belong the Rio and Santas, and to the second, the Java, Mocha, Maracaibo, and, indeed, almost all the other kinds. When a rich, smooth beverage is desired, a combination of Mocha and Java – or some coffee that has the qualities of Java – should be used; but when a very strong flavor is liked, Rio or Santas should be taken. The supply of Java meets only about one-fifth of the demand. For this reason many other mild coffees are sold under the name of "Java." Good Maracaibo is equal to Java, and is constantly sold under that name. A combination of one pound Mocha, one pound Rio, and two pounds Java or Maracaibo will give a rich, strong-flavored drink, but not so smooth as if the Rio were omitted.
When buying the berry, pause for a moment to think how you like your beverage. Do you want it smooth and of delicate flavor? Take one-third Mocha and the rest Java or Maracaibo. Do you want it strong? Use all Rio, or temper that brand by combining it with some one of the mild kinds.
A large proportion of housekeepers buy their coffee roasted, and many also buy it ground. If coffee, while still hot from the roaster, were put into vessels almost air tight, and kept in them until ground for use, the improvement in the drink made from it would amply repay for the trouble taken. Much of the fine aroma is lost before the roasted bean reaches the housekeeper, and there is even a greater loss if the coffee has been ground for a considerable time. These are some of the disadvantages which must be endured when one buys coffee already roasted. But, on the other hand, unless the roasting be done very carefully, the coffee will not be good. A few burnt beans in a quart will ruin the drink. When careful attention to roasting cannot be given at home, it will be better to buy a supply already roasted, but never ground. A French small mill, which can be regulated to grind coarse or fine, can be bought for about a dollar and a half. With care it will last for ten or twenty years. Some firms put up coffee in tin cans. It costs more, but retains so much of the aroma as to be well worth the extra price.
When green coffee is bought, be careful that it is well seasoned. It should have a brownish or yellowish tint, which comes only with years of seasoning. The best way to do, when it is possible, is to buy green coffee by the sack, and keep it stored in a sweet, dry place – say the attic – for two or three years. In that time it will have become sufficiently mellowed.
To roast coffee, put the green beans into a large dripping-pan, being sure that the pan is perfectly clean. Have the coffee about an inch deep. Place the pan in a moderate oven. Stir frequently, and at the end of half an hour increase the heat of the oven. From this time until the beans are sufficiently browned, there should be a stirring every three or four minutes. When the coffee is almost a chestnut color, remove the pan from the oven, and for every quart add one tablespoonful of butter. Stir well; and, while the coffee is still hot, put it into cans and cover closely. Coffee absorbs moisture and odors. It should therefore be kept in a sweet, dry place.
There are so many ways of making coffee, and so many kinds of coffee-pots, that young housekeepers often are perplexed in choosing either a mode of preparing the drink or a utensil in which to make it. If a few principles be carefully observed, a perfect result may be counted as a certainty – provided, of course, that the ground coffee be good. The berries should be heated before or after grinding. The coffee-pot should be entirely clean, without a particle of old coffee grounds in it. The coffee should not be subjected to long boiling, as this will dissipate the aroma and produce a rather bitter drink. Coffee that is not boiled at all is very smooth and free of bitter flavor. All coffee should be served hot, and as soon as possible after being made. Always serve cream or hot milk with it. Heat the milk to the boiling point, but do not let it boil.
Tastes vary as to the proper strength of coffee. The rules given in this article are for a strong drink; and where only moderate strength is desired, use but half the quantity of dry coffee for the quantity of water stated. Coffee made with cold water always is stronger than that made with boiling water, and in the opinion of many people it is better; but some folks think that no coffee is equal to that which has been boiled with an egg. No matter what mode of making the drink is followed, the result will be pleasing if good material is used, the work done quickly, and the coffee served fresh and hot.
Here are four rules, any one of which will give perfect coffee, but each of a different flavor: —
Filtered Coffee Made with Cold Water
Put one cupful of fine-ground coffee in a small saucepan and on the fire. Stir constantly until hot. Put the hot coffee in the filter of a coffee-biggin. Place the coarse strainer on top, and then add half a cupful of cold water, pouring it in by tablespoonfuls. Cover it and let it stand for half an hour, though less time will do. Next add three cupfuls and a half of cold water, a cupful at a time. When all the water has passed through the filter, pour it from the pot, and again through the filter. Cover closely; and at serving-time heat it to the boiling point and serve at once.
One advantage in using cold filtered water is that the coffee may be made at any time in the day, and heated when required. If to be served after dinner, it will be better if made with three cupfuls of water instead of four.
This coffee will be perfectly clear, and of a fine color. The flavor will be rich, smooth and delightful.
Filtered Coffee Made with Boiling Water
Heat one cupful of fine-ground coffee in the manner described in the preceding receipt, and put it in the filter of the coffee-biggin. Put the biggin in a pan with a little boiling water, and place it on the stove. Pour a gill of boiling water on the coffee, cover, and let it stand for five minutes. At the end of that time add half a pint of boiling water, and continue to add boiling water by the half-pint, at intervals of three minutes, until a quart of water has been used in all. Serve the coffee at once. Or, the coffee may be passed through the filter a second time, giving a stronger cup.
Filtered coffee never should be boiled. Placing the pot in the pan of boiling water keeps the coffee at the boiling point, and yet protects it from a boiling.
Boiled Coffee Made with Cold Water
Heat a cupful of coffee, ground rather coarse, and put it in a bowl with one pint of cold water. Cover closely, and let it soak for an hour or more.
Break an egg into the bowl with the coffee, and stir well. Put this mixture into the coffee-pot and place on the fire. Heat slowly to the boiling point, then add a pint of boiling water, and boil gently for five minutes. Now add a gill of cold water, and set the pot back where its contents cannot boil. At the end of three minutes strain into a hot pot and serve at once.
This coffee will be stronger than that made with boiling water; its flavor, too, will be somewhat different.
Boiled Coffee Made with Boiling Water
Heat one cupful of coffee, ground rather coarse. Put it into a coffee-pot, and add an egg. Stir well, and add a quart of boiling water. Place over the fire, and stir until the coffee boils up. Now stir the coffee and egg down, and then shut down the cover, and set the pot where its contents will only simmer during the next five minutes. At the end of that time add a gill of cold water. Let the coffee stand at the side of the stove for three or four minutes, then strain into a hot pot, and serve at once.
The rules for making coffee might be multiplied almost indefinitely, but what has been given here will insure a good beverage every time.
COFFEE – II.
As Prepared by Marion Harland
THE very best way to make coffee is to buy the raw berries and brown them yourself, at least once a week. Most printed directions for preparing the beverage insist upon these preliminaries as a sine qua non. When the mistress cannot superintend the roasting, it is seldom well done, the coffee being burned or unequally cooked. Therefore, the average housewife, who has her hands full of "must-be-dones," reading that tolerable coffee cannot be had unless this rule be obeyed, makes up her mind to give her family a second-rate article. Should coffee be regarded as a daily necessity of existence by her and her household, she would do well to spare time from other occupations (if possible) to prepare it in the most approved manner.
To this end, purchase Java and Mocha in equal quantities; mix and roast them in a broad dripping-pan, shaking and stirring often, particularly when they begin to brown, turning the pan, end for end, several times during the operation. The berries should be evenly tinted to the shade we know as "coffee-color." Burnt grains must be thrown away. Lift the pan to a table, and stir into the hot coffee the beaten whites of two eggs for each pound, and a dessertspoonful of fresh butter. This keeps in the aroma until the grinding lets it out. Do it quickly and faithfully, glazing every berry with the air-proof coating. When cool, shake the coffee in a sieve, that the berries may not stick together, and put it into a tight canister. Grind in a good mill —i. e., one that works well without rattling or "wobbling" – every morning as much as will be needed for the day. This was our mothers' and grandmothers' way of preparing coffee grains for making the most popular beverage known to civilized peoples, and no domestic considered herself aggrieved if required to do it. Now, the good wife who informs her cook that "we roast and grind our own coffee," will have trouble in the flesh. Bridget's impregnable belief is that "what is good enough for people that lives in finer houses nor yerself, is plenty good for yez." It is not to be undermined by representations that ground coffee bought by the package has lost much of its original value with time, and is, furthermore, shamefully adulterated. What your richer neighbors use ought to satisfy you, especially when discontent with it entails worry and labor upon herself. I repeat it: If you must have irreproachable coffee, look to it in person.
Next to this process in excellence is the plan of purchasing, a pound at a time, freshly-ground coffee from a trustworthy grocer, whose mill goes every day; or you may buy it freshly roasted in the grain from him in small quantities, putting a certain portion in the oven until warmed through, as you need it, and grinding it before it cools. This insures you against the admixture of foreign substances. The belief in the extensive adulteration of the ground coffee sold by the package at a low rate is founded upon a rock of fact. Sacks of beans and tons of chicory are bought without a scruple, and stored unblushingly in the warehouses of coffee and spice millers.
Make sure then, to begin with, that your material is pure and lately ground. On the last point, take notice that the coffee which is to be made into a drink by the percolation of steam or water should be ground more finely than when it is to be boiled.
Next see that the water is on what may be called "a fresh boil." It should not have simmered for hours at the side of the stove until all the liveliness is spent, but stand in the hottest place, where it will come quickly and furiously to the boiling point, then be used at once.
The perfection of coffee, to my way of thinking, is made in the "Vienna coffee-pot." A tea-kettle of copper, brass, or plated silver, full of boiling water, is set over a spirit lamp. Into it is fitted a tube attached to a glass receptacle for the finely-ground coffee, which is kept from entering the tube by a wire sieve. A tight stopper prevents the escape through the kettle-spout of the steam generated by the lamp. It is thus forced upward through the tube and sieve into the dry coffee. The globe has a brass cover that keeps in the heat. The coffee is speedily saturated with vapor, and begins to heave and boil like the crater of a volcano. When the tossing mass fills the upper vessel, the stopper is withdrawn from the spout of the lower, and the surface slowly sinks to the original level. The stopper is replaced, and another boil begins. Three boils and as many drainings will leave in the kettle delicious black coffee, fragrant and clear. It can be made on the breakfast or dinner-table in five minutes, if the flame be strong and the water on the boil when set over it. Directions and measures for quantities of coffee and water accompany the pot.
Hardly second in merit to this method is the use of the French "biggin" or "grecque." A tin cylinder, furnished with two movable and one stationary strainers, is set on a coffee-pot. Dry, fine coffee goes into the upper vessel in the proportion of a half-pint cupful to a quart of boiling water poured on this, and left to filter through once, twice, or three times, as a moderately or very strong infusion is desired. The pot should be made hot by scalding before the cylinder is fitted on, then stand on the hot range or hearth, while the liquid drips through the strainers. But this must not boil then or afterwards.
Persons accustomed to Vienna or French coffee do not relish that cooked in the old-fashioned style, but as many still cling to the latter, it is well to know how to obtain the most satisfactory result offered by it.
Allow to each even cupful of ground coffee a quart of boiling water. Mix the coffee in a bowl with half a cupful of cold water and the white and shell of an egg; stir all well together before putting the mixture into the boiler. Add the boiling water, and let it boil fast ten minutes after it begins to bubble. Throw in one-third of a cupful of cold water to check ebullition; draw to one side, and let the decoction settle for three minutes before pouring it off gently from the grounds into the urn.
Send hot milk – cream, if you have it – to table with coffee. A teaspoonful of whipped cream, laid on the surface of each cupful, adds to the elegance of the beverage.
COFFEE – III.
Two Ways with Coffee, as Described by Mrs. Helen Campbell
PERHAPS the two should read twenty, and it would, were it any part of my present mission to give every possibility of method with the berry from bush to pot or filter. But I deal to-day only with two, and they define themselves at once, sharply and decisively – a good way and a bad way; and as, according to a famous moralist, we take more interest in the faults than in the virtues of a friend, it is with the bad way that we begin. It is a way susceptible of many variations, as my own eyes have seen, but all reducible to the one formula, – bad. Moreover, they all emanated from a source supposed to represent the acme of good housekeeping. It was in New England, far to the east, and the quiet house where a part of a summer was spent had every charm but that of good coffee. Paint, walls, and floors were spotlessly clean. The sheets smelled of green grass and all growing things, and, like every washable article, dazzled one with the whiteness and purity of their cleanliness. Bread and butter were perfect, and innumerable pies equally so. But the coffee! Freakishly, mysteriously, variously bad; but bad inevitably. Why and how one act could have such manifold effects became the problem, and gradually, by means of much patient observation made from my place by the south window in the room, which was both dining-room and sitting-room, I found out.
My hostess came down late one morning. The coffee of the previous day had stood in the tin pot all night, and she poured off such liquid as remained, emptied the grounds, rinsed the pot with cold water, and put in a cupful of cold coffee. This was set on the stove, and soon began to boil. The potatoes were frying, and some slices of pork also, and she busied herself with these for a time; then, as a sort of afterthought, took some coffee from the canister, ground it, and poured it into the pot. The kettle had boiled furiously for an hour, and I knew that the water that filled it had stood all night in the kitchen; these two facts meaning that it had parted with the last bubble of life and spirit, and was flat, stale and unprofitable. But she filled the coffee-pot to the brim, throwing in the bit of fish skin for clearing; and on it boiled till the bell had rung, and Aaron came in from the barn and received his cup, made bearable by the cream, which she never stinted. But not a detective appointed for the purpose could have told the nature of the compound before him, and would have echoed the despairing traveler's request: "If this is tea, bring me coffee; and if it's coffee, bring me tea."
Happily, Aaron was thirsty, and emptied the pot. His mother turned out the grounds, washed the pot with soap-suds, and set it away, half dry – an immediate explanation of one of the flavors sometimes to be perceived. Observation, the next morning, showed that the kettle did not boil, because the fire refused to burn properly. But the coffee went in, and the water went on, and in due time came to the table, distinctly flavored with soap, but drank with calm unconsciousness by both Aaron and his mother. The supply of cream had gone by mistake into the churn, and there was no alleviation. I looked at the determined countenance of my hostess, and wondered if I might speak. Here was the well by the door; here was a canister of real coffee; here milk that could boil. What lacked it that I must forego the real union of all these elements? Only my own craven nature, which shrunk from the conflict, and continued to shrink, through three weeks of vicissitude. I had grown indifferent, but the sight of a fresh package of coffee coming in under Aaron's arm aroused me to mild persuasion. I read at the tea-table a bit from some paper on Delmonico's theory of boiling water.
"He must a' been dretful notional. I wouldn't a' had him come pokin' about my kitchen," remarked my hostess, decisively.
"But he was quite right. Water is spoiled for drinking, as hot water, or for making tea or coffee, if it passes beyond that first few minutes of effervescence. It should be fresh water, freshly boiled, and poured at once on the coffee, which ought to be in a clean, hot pot. It doesn't make much difference whether it is boiled or filtered. Delicious coffee can be had by either method, if those conditions are followed absolutely; the best coffee is ruined if they are not."
"Folks that don't like my vittles can go where there's vittle's they do like," was my hostess's answer, after a moment of stony silence. And so I lost that boarding-place, and found one where they never ground their own coffee, but where they did everything else to it, decently and in order.
Two years later I found myself one morning in a waste, howling wilderness in North Carolina – a tar and turpentine station in the pine woods, where only a cabin or two showed signs of life. One truck of the car was off the track. Hours must pass before we could go on, and any breakfast lay forty miles beyond.
"You'll get a snack in yonder," the conductor said presently, pointing to a distant cabin. "And it's a pretty good one. I've tried it before."
He led the way under the pines to the lonely little cabin, in the door of which stood a tall "cracker," with a keener face than most of his order. It was the roughest of interiors, but it was clean. He had already cut some slices of bacon and placed it in his pan, and a pone baked in the ashes. A coffee-mill was screwed against the post, and from a shed I heard the lowing of a cow. We should not be milkless.
"Do your prettiest, Jacob," the conductor said, and Jacob nodded. Then he went to a spring and filled a little kettle with the fresh, bubbling water, and hung it over the coals. Coffee was in a sack in the corner, and he took out a handful and roasted it then and there, turning each grain in the pan as it browned, and grinding it the instant the process ended. The water boiled on the same moment. He scalded his coffee-pot, put in the ground coffee and the boiling water, and put that and a little can of milk on the coals. Three minutes passed. Then he lifted the pot, poured off a cupful to free the nozzle, poured it back, and put it aside to settle.
"Set by," he said, concisely, putting a tin cup at my place, with a spoonful of sugar in the bottom.
"We hain't any store cups," he said; "an' this ain't what you're used to, but it won't spoil the coffee." And with that he poured two streams, one a rich, clear brown, the other snowy white, and both at boiling-point, till the cup was full. Never had more perfect coffee passed my lips, and I said so.
"Learned that in Mexico," said the tall "cracker," with a smile of pride. "Used to drink my coffee straight; but go down thar for a year, an' now can't bar it no other way but their's. Roast it, an' boil it, and drink it all to onst. It gits ahead o' whiskey, or even peach an' honey."
Here are the two ways: Admirable cook-books will give you admirable rules for making coffee; but, if you believe it worth the trouble, try my "cracker's," otherwise Mexican, method. Cream and coffee are often indigestible; boiled milk and coffee, almost never. The union prevents excess of coffee, and, if both come to the table as near the boiling-point as possible, you have the perfect drink. Only remember that the coffee must be one-third Mocha to two-thirds Java, and, if you will roast more than enough for once, keep closely covered, and heat before grinding.
COFFEE – IV.
As prepared by Juliet Corson
THAT "the easiest way is the best" is a proverb not always verified in the kitchen; but it certainly applies to the making of good coffee, if the ideal beverage is a clear, wine-brown, fragrant fluid of comforting quality. Testing many ways of preparing this almost indispensable accompaniment to a good breakfast has proven that the Turks and Arabians treat it most fairly; the reservation may be made that Americans generally prefer not to absorb the substance of the berry, even in the form of an almost impalpable powder, as do the followers of Mahomet. These comparatively temperate people attach its true value to coffee as a frequent beverage; its free use is unfavorable to indulgence in intoxicants of any character, and, properly prepared, it does not exercise any deleterious action upon the digestive organs under normal conditions. Some persons are unable to use it freely without more or less intestinal disturbance, just as others cannot digest eggs, fish, or milk; once convinced of its injurious effect, one would be as foolish to drink it as to persist in testing the relative hardness of one's head and a stone wall.
Much of the physical trouble arising from the drinking of coffee is to be attributed to the use of uncooked milk with boiled coffee. The actual boiling of coffee extracts its tannic acid, and this, combining with some of the component parts of milk, forms an indigestible substance that appears on the surface of the beverage in the form of a thin scum. When coffee disagrees with any one who likes it boiled, the trial is suggested of making it with boiled milk, as the French prepare café au lait; if the ill effect is still apparent, dispense with milk, using only sugar; or try condensed milk, in which the elements are somewhat changed chemically; if it still produces disturbance, be sensible; do not use it. Cocoa is a good breakfast drink.
Coffee is preferable to any kind of tea as a breakfast beverage, because, under right conditions, it does not, like tea, retard the digestion and assimilation of food; it is slightly stimulating and conducive to appetite, and is especially valuable when the bulk of the meal is made up of cold food, as it sometimes is in summer, and when it is hurriedly prepared. Several recipes are given for making coffee, with preference for the last, because it develops all the flavor and aroma of the berry, and secures its nutrient properties so far as they can be obtained by infusion.
A French Chef's Method
Of making breakfast coffee was to mix a cupful of the ground berry with one raw egg and its shell, and a quart of cold water; these ingredients were placed in the coffee-pot over the fire, occasionally stirred, and allowed to reach the boiling-point; the coffee-pot was then drawn to the side of the fire, where it could not boil, one-half cupful of cold water was poured into the spout and top of the pot, and the coffee was allowed to stand ten minutes before it was used. Boiled milk is the best for all kinds of coffee except café noir.
A favorite French mixture of coffees is one-third each of Java, Mocha, and Maracaibo, with at least an ounce of pure chicory to each pound of coffee. The addition of chicory to coffee gives it a rich color and pleasant flavor; it is best to make the mixture at home, buying the chicory from some reliable dealer.
Green coffee – that is, unroasted coffee in the bean – may be bought at any time when the market is favorable; it improves by being kept in a cool, dry place. Roast it in small quantities, and grind it just before using it; this is quite feasible, even if home facilities are limited. In some households there are small coffee-furnaces; or the beans can be browned in the oven by exercising due care. Add a very little good butter to the coffee, just enough to make it glossy, but not greasy; after it has been put into an iron pan, place it in the oven, and shake the pan often enough to make the beans brown evenly; do not burn the coffee. The same precautions must be taken in using the furnace or coffee-roaster. If coffee is bought roasted and unground, put into a frying-pan with enough butter to make it glossy, and shake the pan over a hot fire until the aroma of the coffee is perceptible; then grind it, and use it at once. Only enough for one meal should be heated at one time, the quantity depending upon the desired strength of the beverage; from one to two ounces of coffee to a quart of water is the usual allowance in families. When coffee is made in large quantities a pound is allowed for twenty-five persons.
Cafe au Lait
This favorite breakfast beverage of the French is made of café noir and boiling milk in equal quantities, poured together into a cup from two coffee-pots, and sweetened to taste.
Cafe Noir
This beverage, called after-dinner or black coffee, is made clear and strong, being allowed to reach the boiling-point, but not to boil. The usual proportions are one cupful (or four ounces) of coffee to a quart of water. If made in a percolator, a half additional of this quantity of coffee should be allowed; that is, six ounces to a quart.
Filtered Coffee
When coffee is made in a percolator, or a coffee-pot with a strainer at the top, one-third at least should be added to the usual proportion of coffee; three ounces to a quart makes a good coffee by this method. The coffee is placed in the strainer, and actually boiling water is poured through it; the coffee-pot is placed where the coffee will keep hot without boiling for about ten minutes, and then used.
Breakfast Coffee
The best and most economical coffee is made as follows: A small bag of unbleached cloth is so arranged as to remain suspended about midway of the coffee-pot. The coffee, freshly roasted, or heated in a frying-pan, as described above, and then ground to a fine powder, is put into the bag, an ounce being allowed for each quart of coffee; actually boiling water is then poured upon the coffee, and it is allowed to stand for ten minutes where it will keep hot without boiling, and then used with boiling-hot milk and sugar. Of course the coffee-pot must be of such a size that the bag of coffee will be entirely covered with the boiling water.
Coffee made in this way is clear and fragrant, absolutely harmless to the digestive organs, and as delicious as coffee should be. The boiling-hot milk is a necessity for those who like coffee hot. The coffee-pot should be rinsed with clean boiling water after the coffee is used, and then thoroughly dried; the bag should be rinsed in boiling water to free it from grounds, and then dried before it is again put into the coffee-pot. No soap should be used upon it, nor any soapy water; simply water that has been boiled before it is used. If this method is followed, clear coffee will always be the order of the day.
COFFEE – V.
The Right and Wrong Ways of Making Coffee, as Described by Mrs. D. A. Lincoln
The Wrong Way
BUY the cheapest coffee – that is, the kind which costs the least money – without regard to its purity or quality. Use more or less coffee, just as it happens; accurate measurement is not essential. Put it in an old tin coffee-pot; pour on water from the tea-kettle – never mind about the quantity or its temperature, or the time it has been in the kettle, since, as it comes from the tea-kettle, it must be all right. Let it boil indefinitely, and if, when breakfast is ready, the water has boiled away, just pour in more. If you can afford it, add one or two eggs at any time during the process, when you happen to think of it. If it be roily, strain it, if you can find a strainer, and serve it with – yes, common brown sugar and skim milk will do, if you choose to think so. The compound is – what?
If there be any left, keep it warm on the back of the stove until the next meal. As this long steeping makes it dark, it must be strong, so, add more water. After dinner set the pot away, and the next morning pour out the old grounds; rinse it or not – just as your time will allow – and repeat the process of making. Wash the coffee-pot occasionally if the outside need it, but rinsing is sufficient for the inside.
The Right Way
Buy pure coffee – not necessarily that which costs most – but buy it from some reliable dealer. Mixtures of one-third Mocha and two-thirds Java, or half Mocha and half male berry Java, have given general satisfaction. There are some varieties of South American coffee which are very good. Occasionally one finds a brand, through some friend who is in the business, or who has had opportunity of procuring it directly from coffee-growing countries, which is of such remarkable excellence that it leads one to suspect that much of the best coffee grown is not in the market.
The raw berries are tough, difficult to grind, and have but little flavor. Roasting makes the berries brittle and crisp, and when properly done develops a fine flavor; but when half done or done to excess, the result is a raw or bitter flavor. Many prefer to roast and grind the coffee for themselves; but in coffee houses the arrangements for roasting are so complete, that it is better for small families to buy roasted coffee and to grind it as needed, or to buy it ground in a small quantity. It should be kept in air-tight tin cans or glass jars, that the fine flavor may be preserved.
Opinions vary as to the best kind of coffee-pot. Some prefer porcelain or granite ware, others prefer tin, but all good housekeepers agree that absolute cleanliness is of the utmost importance. The pot should be cleansed every time it is used – all parts of it, the spout not excepted. A brown deposit is soon formed on the inside of the pot if the coffee be allowed to stand in it long, or if it be not often and thoroughly cleansed.
An important point, and one often overlooked even by intelligent housekeepers, is that the water should be freshly boiled in a clean kettle. Water, in boiling, loses the air or gases which give it a fresh taste and sparkling appearance. It should be used as soon as boiled, or it becomes flat and tasteless. A brown substance is deposited on the inside of the kettle, and this, if allowed to accumulate, imparts an unpleasant taste to the water; yet there are many housekeepers, exquisitely neat in many ways, who seldom wash the inside of a tea-kettle. It is an excellent plan to keep a small kettle to be used only in boiling water for tea or coffee. Wash and wipe it carefully every time it is used.
The proportions of water and coffee are one heaping tablespoonful of ground coffee to one half-pint cupful of boiling water. Reduce the amount of coffee slightly when several cupfuls are required. It takes a larger proportionate amount of both coffee and water to make just enough for one cupful than for more, as the grounds absorb a certain portion of the water, and the last coffee poured out is not as clear as the first. Coffee should be made in such a way that the full strength and aroma may be obtained without developing the tannic acid.
Whether coffee shall be boiled or not will probably be always a question. Many think it has a raw taste if not boiled; others contend that, in boiling, much of the aroma is lost. Boiling makes the mixture roily, and it must stand long enough to let the grounds settle and the liquid become clear. Some albuminous material will help to clear it. Fish skin, isinglass, cold water, and eggs are used for this purpose. Eggs give it a flavor and body, and, no doubt, improve an inferior quality of coffee; but they increase the cost of the beverage, as, aside from their own cost, they clog the grounds, thus making a larger amount of coffee necessary to obtain the desired strength. But if coffee must be boiled, let it be boiled in a closely covered vessel, with a thimble or cork in the spout, as, if left uncovered, the volatile oil which forms the fragrant aroma is dissipated; and it should never boil more than five minutes, as longer boiling extracts the tannic acid. There is a widely prevalent but erroneous notion that long boiling extracts more of the strength and color, and is, therefore, more economical; but strength and color thus gained are obtained at the expense of flavor and wholesomeness.
After thorough trial of several methods of making coffee, I have found filtering (or percolation) the simplest, most economical, and most satisfactory. Various modifications of the biggin, or French filter coffee-pot, are in use. This is a double coffee-pot, with one or more strainers in the upper pot. Some of these biggins are expensive, and soon get out of order; but others are very simple, and, with care, will last a long time. The coffee should be ground very fine, and be placed in the upper pot. Some varieties have a convex, coarse strainer in the bottom, to keep the grounds from clogging the fine strainer. Then a coarse strainer is placed over the grounds, the boiling water is poured in, and allowed to drip slowly through the coffee into the lower receptacle. Many of the coffee-pots made on this principle are placed in another vessel containing boiling water; but, if there be only two parts to it, the coffee-pot should stand where the coffee, as it drips through, will keep hot, but will not boil. If the upper part be not large enough to contain all the water desired, it must be poured on in small portions. The full strength and aroma are thus obtained; no clearing is necessary, and, if care be taken to observe all the minor points in the directions, the beverage will invariably be good.
For good breakfast coffee, cream, scalded milk, and block sugar are necessary. The milk should be scalding hot, but never boiled, as boiled milk gives an unpleasant flavor. Ascertain the tastes of those at the table, as most coffee drinkers prefer to have the coffee poured on the cream and sugar. One tablespoonful of cream, two of hot milk, and two blocks of sugar, with an extra block in the saucer, is a fair proportion for a breakfast cup. Pour in the coffee until the cup is three-fourths full. Never fill it to overflowing.
After-dinner coffee, or black coffee, is made in the same way, a double proportion of coffee being used. It should be very strong, and perfectly clear. Serve it in small cups, with block sugar if desired, but not with cream or milk, as the milk counteracts the purpose for which the coffee is taken.
Coffee is stimulating, and, when taken clear and very strong after a hearty meal, aids digestion; but, when combined with cream or milk, a leathery compound is formed, which is indigestible and irritates the internal membranes.
COFFEE – VI.
A Cup of Good Coffee, as Described and Prepared by Catherine Owen
PEOPLE often speak of the delicious coffee they drank at this place or that, as something quite unattainable in their own homes; yet, as rich, fragrant, clear coffee is no more expensive than strong coffee – thick and muddy, bitter, but not fragrant – there is no reason why every one should not revel in the simple luxury. First of all, as to the pot: Some people seem to have quite a superstition about a coffee-pot. The fact is that any absolutely clean pot will make good coffee, and I have made as good coffee in a warmed pitcher as ever was made in the most perfect of filtering pots.
Strong French or filtered coffee is not used in many families, because it is believed to be more expensive; but this mistake comes from the fact that the experiment is often made with coffee too coarsely ground. Grocers usually grind coffee like coarse oatmeal; but coffee so used is very extravagant, for you require double the quantity necessary. Coffee should be ground as fine as coarse corn meal – not so fine as flour, or it will clog the strainer – and it should be freshly ground each time coffee is made. These rules apply both to boiled and filtered coffee.
To Make French Coffee
Allow for strong breakfast coffee, one tablespoonful of finely-ground coffee for each person, and half a pint of boiling water to each spoonful. Put the coffee into the strainer, and set it where it will get heated, but not burn (the flavor of both coffee and tea are improved by being warmed before the water is added). Pour the freshly-boiled water on the coffee ten minutes before breakfast. Coffee is spoiled if made too long.
If you use the usual French coffee-pot with two strainers, you will save time by pouring the water on a little at a time. There is, however, a coffee-pot that is easier for general use, as the water can all be poured on at once; the process is then exactly the same as making tea, except that part of the water must be poured out and returned.
For black, after-dinner coffee, you require four tablespoonfuls of coffee to a pint of water.
You must remember that, in using little water, you make very strong coffee, and you need only each cup one-third or half full; then fill it up with foaming, hot milk. If you live in a city, this is the real expense; but a cup of such coffee is far more nourishing than the usual weak coffee just clouded with milk. For instance: If you put a pint of water on a tablespoonful of coffee, you get two cups of coffee too weak to allow much milk. If you put one-half pint of water to a tablespoonful of coffee, you get two half cups, rich and strong, each of which will allow being filled up with boiling milk. Therefore, you get the same quantity of the beverage in one way as the other; but one will be fragrant and nourishing, the other will be neither.
Just here let me digress from the actual making of coffee to another matter that concerns coffee drinkers. It is often said by those who drink weak coffee for breakfast, such as would be made by using a pint of water to a tablespoonful of coffee, that they would be afraid to drink strong coffee. They will perhaps see from the above that they consume just as much coffee – and whatever unwholesome ingredient it may contain – in the one case as the other, but that, in one case, it is diluted with water, and in the other with milk. The moral they can draw for themselves.
Any reader who has not tried making French coffee, and has no proper pot, can experiment in the following way:
French Coffee in a Pitcher
Put two full tablespoonfuls of finely-ground coffee in a well warmed pitcher; pour on it a pint of freshly-boiled water, and stir it to saturate the coffee: cover close with a cloth pressed into the top, and let it stand on the range five minutes. Have another heated vessel (a pitcher, if you choose); lay a piece of muslin (scalded) over it, and pour the coffee carefully through it. This will be clear, fragrant coffee.
Boiled Coffee
This is preferred by many, although it lacks the aroma of filtered coffee, which some consider a raw flavor. Put two tablespoonfuls of coffee into an ordinary coffee-pot, with a pint of boiling water. Stir it well; then let it just boil up, and set it where it will keep hot, but not boil. Throw into it a tablespoonful of cold water, and in five minutes pour out a cupful of the coffee, return it to the pot, repeat this, leave it five minutes to settle, and the coffee will be perfectly clear, without any egg to clear it.
Of course I am assuming, when I promise good coffee from either of these methods, that you use the best quality of coffee. Out of poor coffee you may make a clear liquid, but you can never make fine coffee. By fresh-boiled water, I mean water which has not been kept boiling, but is used as soon as it boils.
But it is not enough to know how to make good coffee. There are mysteries about it which beset even those who understand how to make it – periods when the coffee will be poor in spite of the quantity or quality of coffee used, or it will be bitter, black, and flavorless, even though we know we have the finest Java, the very same that has yielded golden fragrance to us heretofore. So it seems to me not enough to tell how to perform the simple feat of making coffee, but how to explain the periodical deterioration to which it is subject. The first difficulty is that of a weak product, in spite of the fact that you know the right quantity of coffee, and not too much water, is used. You may be almost sure, in this instance, that the coffee is not ground fine enough, half of it, probably, being as large as rice. Alter the screw of your mill. It is harder work to grind coffee when the mill is screwed tight, and you may not find it easy to keep it screwed just right, for it will develop a perverse tendency to loosen under Delia's care, which you will know by your coffee being weak and your grocer's bill long.
Another trouble that seems sometimes unaccountable: The coffee will be cloudy in spite of strainers. There is only one honest reason for this – the coffee may be ground too fine. But this is unlikely; it is more probable that the water has been poured all at once into the strainer, instead of gradually. This would have taken a long time to drip through, and a spoon has been used to facilitate the process, and muddy coffee is the result.
Sometimes families will have trouble of another sort. The coffee will be strong and bitter, without aroma, and when milk is added, instead of the beautiful, clear brown it should be, it will be of a blackish hue. This kind of poor coffee will come to the table week after week, and the quality of the coffee itself be blamed. It comes from one of two causes: It has been made too long and kept hot in the pot, or the pot itself is not well kept.
Not even milk-pans require more scrupulous care than the coffee-pot. It may be rinsed after each time of using, and yet be far from clean. There is an oily property about coffee which adheres in spite of rinsing out. You can see this for yourself by taking almost any coffee-pot that has been some time in use (unless it has been very carefully kept), and you will find clinging to it a sort of black grease (not brown); this will come off if you rub a cloth round the inside. Now, this deposit, for some reason which I should like to have explained, destroys the fragrance, color, and flavor of coffee. If you see your coffee looks black-brown instead of ruddy brown, you will know it will be flavorless, however strong.
To keep this black oil from the pot it must be daily washed (not rinsed), scalded, and dried. Each piece of a French coffee-pot should be separately dried before it is put away. If packed together wet, the strainers will in time give a metallic taste. Another reason for great care is that, without it, the strainers get clogged and the coffee will not go through.
If you find your coffee-pot has been neglected, put a piece of washing soda as large as a hickory-nut into hot water; set the strainers in it; let them stand on the stove for hours; put the same in the coffee-pot; then rub and brush both till the wire gauze is clear and all the black removed; then run boiling water slowly through, and dry it. Let the care be daily afterwards. The grease will not form, nor will the gauze fill up, if a pint or so of boiling water is poured through every morning and it is dried before being put away. Cold water is worse than useless, as it sets the oil. Sometimes the coffee-pot is put away exactly as it leaves the table, with left-over coffee in it. This should never be.
In drying the coffee-pot, or warming it, be careful not to let it get too hot, or there will be the flavor of burnt coffee to spoil the beverage for that occasion.
THE STORY OF COFFEE.
Its History, Properties and Powers, as described by Hester M. Poole
IT would be almost as desirable to know who drank the first decoction of coffee as "who tamed the first wild steed," or "who first conquered fire." Perhaps, like Charles Lamb's roast pig, it was first parched through the burning of a rude cabin, near which grew the odorous and inviting shrub. Some of the roasted berries may have fallen into a calabash of water, whose primitive possessor, weary and thirsty through vain efforts to save his shelter, drank unwittingly of the decoction, and, in the bewitching cup, made a great discovery while drowning his sense of misfortune. All great benefits to mankind have their origin in obscurity. It will never be known whether coffee was first used in Abyssinia, Arabia, or Ethiopia, as the plant grows wild in each of these countries. Its name is derived from Kaffa, in Eastern Africa, and a Mahometan legend ascribes its discovery to a party of dervishes, who, for some misdemeanor, were banished from the city of Mocha on or about the year 1250. Repairing to the mountains of Yemen, they came near starvation before finding that, upon chewing the wild coffee berry, their strength was marvellously supported and hunger relieved during enforced fasts and vigils. The prior, Sheykh Omer, began to steep the berries in water and to dry a store of the fruit for sustenance during long marches. Its use spread to other dervishes, then to Mecca and Mocha, Damascus and Aleppo, till, in the year 1550, coffee became the favorite drink in Constantinople, in which city coffee-houses were soon after opened. If Prior Omer has not yet been canonized, he should certainly fill the first vacant niche, for, surely, no man ever conferred greater enjoyment upon his fellows. Yet, during a long period – perhaps for ages – the wild tribes in the interior of Africa had before that date used the berry, and the incident of the burning of the primitive hut is neither far-fetched nor improbable.
As the mosques were comparatively deserted for the coffee-houses, the Mufti was petitioned to issue edicts against the use of a beverage so delicious as to cause the sons of the faithful to forget the call to prayer, and for a little while it was a secret and stolen delight. Seeing that it could not be suppressed, the priests, with an eye to the main chance – common to the powers that be in all nations – wisely decided to impose a high tax upon the berry, and the coffee bean, from that day to this, has been the daily inspiration of the dreamy, sensuous, and fate-worshiping Turk.
It was not until about the year 1670 that coffee-drinking became popular in France, though infrequent travelers had brought with them from the East a few pounds of the curious berry. At that time Solomon Aga was sent from the Sublime Porte to the court of Louis XIV., and he became very soon the rage, through the splendid and unique entertainments at which he figured as host. Costly Eastern stuffs, at that time seldom found in the elegant capital, displayed the rich and harmonious coloring of which the Turks are masters. Divans and cushions of embroidered velvet shot with gold, prayer rugs of every kind and device, vestments of many hues, bedizened with jewels and diamonds – all these made him the magnate of the city.
Most of all, the gay world coveted the services of exquisite porcelain and silver, the napkins fringed with bullion, and – served in cups of egg-shell porcelain, hot, strong, and fragrant – that delicious coffee which has never lost the place it then secured. On bended knees the slaves of the ambassador presented the choicest Mocha to these grande dames, who fluttered their fans with many grimaces and bent their piquant faces – bepatched, bepowdered, and berouged – over the steaming beverage. Such were the half-barbaric occasions upon which coffee first became generally known to that nation which is now so largely dependent upon the tiny brown berry of Arabia. Four years afterward an Armenian opened the first coffee-house to the Parisian public. Others followed his example, and a little later beer and wine were also served at the same establishments. Finer than any of his predecessors came a dusky Italian from Florence, and to his salon flocked the chief literary men of the last quarter of the seventeenth century. Coffee became a tyrant, and, as tyrant, it still holds matutinal and undisputed sway over the civilized portions of the earth.
Common as it is in this age, it was then an expensive luxury. The cultivation of the plant was confined to small districts, navigation tedious, and commerce with the East restricted. It is recorded that the daughters of King Louis of France had coffee imported for the use of the royal household at a cost of £3,200 yearly, – a fact which, after making all due allowance, shows that "rings" must have existed as far back as two centuries ago. The exact date of the introduction of coffee into England is not known. It is supposed to have been about the middle of the seventeenth century, and it became a popular drink there earlier than in France. Perhaps this may be due to the fact that the first English merchant who dealt in coffee had lived in Constantinople, and brought back with him to London a pretty Greek wife, who acted as his saleswoman. At first it sold for four or five guineas per pound, but soon became cheaper.
Coffee-houses multiplied, not only in the capital, but in all the large cities. Long antedating common newspapers, these shops were news centers, where the intelligent men of the age gathered to learn what was taking place, to discuss public affairs and governmental measures, and form public opinion. Considering that they were hot-beds of sedition and revolution, Charles II. ordered them closed in 1675, but the order was soon revoked. Cromwell ordered them closed again during the Protectorate for reasons somewhat similar; but they had become necessities to the people, and could not be put down for any great length of time.
Wits and poets, essayists and philosophers, daily gathered in the coffee-houses of London during several generations. How much they quoted from favorite authors – how faithfully they harangued and button-holed each other in that fashion, common to all ages, from the cloudy eras of the Chimpanzees to the year of our Lord 1887 – there are no annals full enough to describe. Within their precincts, what fear and folly, what foolishness and wisdom, have been uttered over steaming cups of Mocha!
It was at Will's Coffee-house, Covent Garden, that Dryden and Addison, Steele and Davenant, Carey and Pope, met with other luminaries, and if it be proven that other potations, more fiery and deep, mingled with those of the Eastern berry, it may well be surmised that coffee often supplied the place of worse beverages, or mitigated their evil effects. The "intellectual drink," as it has been called, gained friends every day among the wits of the reign of Queen Anne. Here Pope found the inspiration of "The Rape of the Lock," if not the "Essay on Man," an inspiration which he celebrated in these lines:
"From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,
While China's earth receives the smoking tide;
At once they gratify their sense and taste,
And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.
Coffee! – which makes the politician wise,
And see through all things with his half-shut eyes!"
Prior to the year 1700, coffee planting had been confined to Africa. The preceding year the President of the Dutch East Indies had brought some of the shrubs to Batavia, and Java rapidly became one of the first coffee-bearing countries – now exporting more than 75,000 tons annually. A shrub was sent from Batavia to Amsterdam shortly after, and in 1710 a shoot from this plant was taken as a curiosity to Louis XIV., who had it carefully tended in the Jardin des Plants, where it flourished for some years.
But, with the development of the New World, coffee was a necessary concomitant. Across the stormy ocean, to the Island of Martinique, the Grand Monarch sent three plants in 1720, only one of which survived the voyage, and from this one shrub have sprung all the rich and expensive plantations of the West Indies and Central and South America.
It was not till the year 1754 that the first coffee tree was planted by a friar in the garden of the convent to which he was attached in Rio Janeiro, and not till 1809 did the first cargo of coffee land on the shores of the United States. Now, three-quarters of our coffee comes from Brazil, although much of it is sold under the name of Mocha or Java, the Chamber of Commerce report itself declaring that the "Santos pea berry and other similar appearing beans are used by mixers to supplement the supply of genuine Mocha." It would be a gratification to be able to say that no other mixing or adulteration is practiced.
