Did you ever get to a camp fire or log-cabin stove at eleven o’clock and know that there must be a hearty meal by twelve? I have lots of times. The only way to do, if one must meet these emergencies on short notice, is to have what I call “stock” on hand. In using this word I do not mean soup stock, either. What I mean is that there must be some vegetables or cereals or other articles of food at least partially prepared for eating.
I remember one summer when I was very busy with my writing. I was chief cook and bottle washer, besides being my own secretary, and I had three members in my family to look out for--a friend with a hearty appetite, a big dog with a no less hearty appetite and a rather greedy little Maine cat. The question was how to carry on the work which was properly my own and at the same time attend to cooking and other household work. I hit upon a plan which served excellently with me. I do not recommend it to any one else, especially to girls who will be going into the woods for a vacation and will have no duties except those connected with their camp life. But this plan of mine demonstrated to me once and for all that, even if one is very busy, it is possible to have a bountifully supplied table.
The first day I tried the experiment I went into the kitchen at eleven o’clock. Never had I been more tired of the everlasting question of what to have to eat. It seemed to me that there was never any other question except that one, and I determined, with considerable savage feeling, to escape from it. At eleven o’clock I chopped my own kindling, started my own fire, and began twirling the saucepans, frying pans and baking tins which I wanted to use. I was set upon cooking up enough food to last for three or four days, and I did. At two o’clock not only was all the food cooked and set away for future consumption, but also we had eaten our dinner. In that time what had I prepared? There was a big double boiler full of _corn meal_. After this had been thoroughly boiled in five times its bulk of water and a large tablespoonful of salt, I poured it out into baking tins and set it away to cool. Various things can be done with this stock; among others, once cool, it slices beautifully, and is delicious fried in butter or in bacon fat, and satisfying to the hungriest camper. Also a large panful of _rice_ had been cooked. This had been set aside to be used in _croquettes_, in _rice puddings_ and to be served plain with milk at supper time. So much for the rice and the corn meal. I had broken up in two-inch pieces a large panful of _macaroni_. This was boiled in salt water, part of it cooled and set away for further use, some of it mixed with a canful of tomato and stewed for our dinner and the rest baked with tomato and bread crumbs, to be heated up for another day. On top of the stove, too, I had a mammoth _vegetable stew_. In this stew were potatoes, carrots, parsnips, cabbage, beets, turnips, plenty of butter and plenty of salt. The stew remained on the stove, carefully covered, during the time that the fire was lighted and was put on again the next day to complete the cooking, for it takes long boiling to make a really good stew. Inside the oven were two big platefuls of _apples_ baking. These had been properly cored and the centers filled with butter and sugar and cinnamon; also two or three dozen potatoes were baking in the oven, some of which would serve for quick frying on another day. In addition to the food mentioned, I set a large two-quart bowl full of lemon jelly with vegetable gelatin. It took me exactly fifteen minutes to make this jelly and during that time I was giving my attention to other things besides. I made also a panful of baking powder biscuits which, considering the way they were hustled about, behaved themselves in a most long-suffering and commendable fashion, turning out to be good biscuits after all.