3 meals in this book
“One day, among others, having purposely gone out of my way to take a nearer view of a spot that appeared delightful, I was so charmed with it, and wandered round it so often, that at length I completely lost myself, and after several hours' useless walking, weary, fainting with hunger and thirst, I entered a peasant's hut, which had not indeed a very promising appearance, but was the only one I could discover near me. I thought it was here, as at Geneva, or in Switzerland, where the inhabitants, living at ease, have it in their power to exercise hospitality. I entreated the countryman to give me some dinner, offering to pay for it: on which he presented me with some skimmed milk and coarse barley-bread, saying it was all he had. I drank the milk with pleasure, and ate the bread, chaff and all; but it was not very restorative to a man sinking with fatigue. The countryman, who watched me narrowly, judged the truth of my story by my appetite, and presently (after having said that he plainly saw I was an honest, good-natured young man, and did not come to betray him) opened a little trap door by the side of his kitchen, went down, and returned a moment after with a good brown loaf of pure wheat, the remains of a well-flavored ham, and a bottle of wine, the sight of which rejoiced my heart more than all the rest: he then prepared a good thick omelet, and I made such a dinner as none but a walking traveller ever enjoyed.”
2 ounces of stale bread (one large slice). 1 gill of boiling water. 1 gill of cold milk. 1 level teaspoonful of salt. 2 eggs. 1 tablespoonful of butter. Have the bread free from crust. Pour the boiling water over it. When soft, add the salt and milk, and break up with a spoon. Beat the yolks and whites of the eggs separately, and stir into the bread mixture. Put the butter in a frying-pan of good size, and set on the fire. When hot, turn in the omelet, and cook until it begins to set; drawing it back a little, as you would a plain omelet. Fold, and brown slightly. Turn out on a hot dish, and serve at once.
Recipe from Miss Parloa's Young Housekeeper of 1893.
“Though I lived with the strictest economy, my purse insensibly grew lighter. This economy was, however, less the effect of prudence than that love of simplicity, which, even to this day, the use of the most expensive tables has not been able to vitiate. Nothing in my idea, either at that time or since, could exceed a rustic repast; give me milk, vegetables, eggs, and brown bread, with tolerable wine and I shall always think myself sumptuously regaled; a good appetite will furnish out the rest, if the maitre d' hotel, with a number of unnecessary footmen, do not satiate me with their important attentions. Five or six sous would then procure me a more agreeable meal than as many livres would have done since; I was abstemious, therefore, for want of a temptation to be otherwise: though I do not know but I am wrong to call this abstinence, for with my pears, new cheese, bread and some glasses of Montferrat wine, which you might have cut with a knife, I was the greatest of epicures. Notwithstanding my expenses were very moderate, it was possible to see the end of twenty livres; I was every day more convinced of this, and, spite of the giddiness of youth, my apprehensions for the future amounted almost to terror. All my castles in the air were vanished, and I became sensible of the necessity of seeking some occupation that would procure me a subsistence.”
scald with it half a pint of flour; if the milk is skimmed, use a small piece of butter; when the batter is cool, add the rest of the milk, one cup of hop yeast, half a tablespoonful of salt, and flour enough to make it quite stiff; knead the dough until it is fine and smooth, and raise it over night. This quantity makes three small loaves. 258. =Rice Bread.=--Simmer one pound of rice in three quarts of water until the rice is soft, and the water evaporated or absorbed; let it cool until it is only luke-warm; mix into it nearly four pounds of flour, two teaspoonfuls of salt, and four tablespoonfuls of yeast; knead it until it is smooth and shining, let it rise once before the fire, make it up into loaves with the little flour reserved from the four pounds, and bake it thoroughly. 259.
Recipe from The Cooking Manual of Practical Directions for Economica of 1877.
“After dinner, we were economical; instead of drinking the coffee we had reserved at breakfast, we kept it for an afternoon collation, with cream, and some cake they had brought with them. To keep our appetites in play, we went into the orchard, meaning to finish our dessert with cherries. I got into a tree, throwing them down bunches, from which they returned the stones through the branches. One time, Mademoiselle Galley, holding out her apron, and drawing back her head, stood so fair, and I took such good aim, that I dropped a bunch into her bosom. On her laughing, I said to myself, "Why are not my lips cherries? How gladly would I throw them there likewise."”
CENTERS 1/4 a cup of candied cherries, chopped fine, 1/2 a cup of fondant. CHOCOLATE COATING About one cup of fondant, 2 squares of Baker's Chocolate, 1 teaspoonful of vanilla extract, Bits of cherry. Prepare the centers and coat in the same manner as the almond creams.
Recipe from Chocolate and Cocoa Recipes and Home Made Candy Recipes of 1909.
Sources: Every passage above is quoted verbatim from The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau, free to read in full at Project Gutenberg. The recipes come from cookbooks of the period, also free in full. All are in the public domain in the United States. The binding is ours — ochre cloth, sheaf stamp.