“Indoors the tables were already covered with long fish, smoked hams, stuffed fowls, boxes of sprats, pickled savouries of various sorts, and a number of bottles of vodka and wine; there was a smell of smoked sausage and of sour tinned lobster. Old Tsybukin walked about near the tables, tapping with his heels and sharpening the knives against each other. They kept calling Varvara and asking for things, and she was constantly with a distracted face running breathlessly into the kitchen, where the man cook from Kostukov's and the woman cook from Hrymin Juniors' had been at work since early morning. Aksinya, with her hair curled, in her stays without her dress on, in new creaky boots, flew about the yard like a whirlwind showing glimpses of her bare knees and bosom.”
A cook of roughly the same moment, setting down the same dish.
Let the fish be pounded as for the cutlets above or for _boudinettes_, but mix half or more of the coral with the flesh of the lobsters; shape it like small sausages, sprinkle them with the powdered coral, and heat them through in a Dutch or American oven. They may be brushed with clarified butter before the coral is strewed over them, but they scarcely need it. A fierce degree of heat will destroy the excellence of _all_ these preparations.
Sources: The passage is from Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, Project Gutenberg Compilation of Short Stories by Chekhov, free to read in full at Project Gutenberg. The recipe is from Acton, Modern cookery for private families of 1845, also free in full. Both are in the public domain in the United States. The binding above is ours — moss cloth, teapot stamp.