THE SECRET OF CHESTNUT HALL
(A BLOOMS, BONES AND STONES COZY MYSTERY - BOOK ONE)
Jasmine Summer---Jazz to her friends---watched her sister start the day in the plant nursery as she wielded a garden hose. Watering was a never-ending chore.
“So, are you off to the mystery house and garden?” Kim called over her shoulder as she sprayed water over the first rows of containers. Jazz smiled and rattled the car keys.
“It looks like a nice old house from the outside, and the garden has just not been managed for so long that it’s a jungle.”
“Ah. These old rumors often have a tinge of truth somewhere,” Kim called back.
“I’ll give you a hand when I get back. Not starting on the work until tomorrow,” Jazz replied and climbed aboard the four-wheel drive.
“He seems a bit solemn but quite reasonable to work for,” She mused and thought about the client who had employed her to restore the garden. The house had stood empty for some years after the elderly owner died. The person who had inherited the property paid someone to cut the grass and a woman to clean the inside, but apart from that, it was untouched. Now it was sold, and she had won the contract to update the garden.
JAZZ DREW the huge off-road vehicle behind the old house and climbed out. She looked far too slender and feminine to be driving such a monster, but when you were a garden restorer, it was a necessary tool. Waving an arm to a middle-aged man starting a lawn mower, she walked over to where the view of the gardens sprawled away and smiled. The grass-cutting machine purred away in the distance.
“I do love my job,” She said out loud and jumped when the voice behind her replied. “Glad I’m not forcing you to do something you hate.”
Evan Sutherland smiled at her surprise and apologized for causing alarm. Jazz relaxed. The man was paying for her services, and there was no way she wanted to antagonize a good-paying customer.
“It has been a beautiful garden, and it will be again,” She told him “I was going to walk around first and decide where to start.”
“Mind if I tag along?” he asked, and she said it would be a help because the garden would have to be what he wanted in the end. He fell into step as they set off down the slight slope of the lawn. Evan, with long legs and lean hips, had the easy grace of someone used to the outdoors. He wore jeans and a checked shirt. His mop of almost-red hair flopped over his forehead, and he brushed it away with long, slender fingers. He stood just short of six feet tall and told her that the man cutting grass was trying to keep the wildness under control until the place was changed.
“He worked for the previous owner, and I kept him on for a couple of days a week.”
Looking back at the house from the path below the lawn, they saw the formal balustrades and steps.
“These are good as they are but need to be cleaned completely and large pots of plants placed at each side of the steps. I’ll get a
firm in to clean the terrace, and you can add furniture,” Jazz said, and he agreed and asked about plants. “That’s the easy part,” she went on as they approached the wilder part of the grounds. The path curved through some trees and suddenly a rock garden of gigantic proportions rolled away in front of them.
“This is one enormous alpine garden,” she said. “It must have had a rill running down the middle and into a pool at the bottom. It was fed by gravity from the now useless tank at the top.” She paused. “If you can stand the cost, it would be better filled in, but I can seal it off instead.”
“Mmm,” he answered. “Can we see it?”
“Bit of a climb, but whoever made the garden left a sort of staircase across the rocks.” Evan smiled to himself as climbing was what he did best in the world. Jazz set off up the steep side but looked for the sloping, zigzagging path and found her way to the top. Evan was close on her heels, and they gazed back at the garden from a vantage point.
“There is no other way to reach this part unless you climb,” he observed and poked at the rusted corner of what had been a huge tank. “Uggh. That is dangerous. It will have to be filled in.”
“But how?” Jazz queried, and he looked at the trees blocking the access.
“Can you recommend tree people to cut down and make a track through?” he asked, and she nodded as they both looked at the problem. Jazz pulled out her phone and took pictures.
“Rob Manners will do the job. I’ll show him the pictures and see what he says.” She turned, and he saw the light of enthusiasm in her eyes. “We could make it a woodland walk to a lookout platform above the rocks. It would be something different and interesting.” Evan nodded and thought how attractive this girl was. Her eyes, the color of brandy, sparkled and lit an answering interest in the man, which surprised him. Women were not on his agenda.
“Once bitten,” he reflected, but she had long, dark-blonde hair that was tied back out of the way for work and even in clothes suitable for physical work, she was slim and smart. He would have to consider the cost of the extra work, however, and he asked her how
much more would be added to the bill. She did a quick calculation in her head and gave him a ballpark figure that was not as bad as he had thought.
THEY CLIMBED BACK DOWN, and he held out a hand for the final jump from the rock formation to flat ground. Jazz was not so independent that she would turn down a gallant gesture, and she took the hand to steady herself.
“Thanks,” she said and rubbed at the hand. It was done without a thought about the tingle of electricity that trickled up her veins at his touch. “Let’s follow where the rill would have run down to the pond.” Jazz had looked up what she could about the history of the garden and knew that there had been a long, mixed border, pondside planting, and paths that had wandered through groups of trees and shrubs to give private places and unexpected views. She told him this as they walked down and at one point, she stopped and pulled at some grass revealing a brick rill. “We will have a modern system of water management with electric pumping equipment, clean this channel, and make a lined pond with bog planting. A few seats everywhere would be useful as well, to take in all of the different views.” They had stopped at the lowest point and looked back. Evan nodded.
“Can you do this on your own?”
She smiled at the question. “I am strong but not wonder woman. I have a small team, Carly and Ben, and when we need machinery or manpower, we hire that separately.”
Sometime later, they had covered most of the enormous site and stood looking back at the house. It was large and quite ornate with a wing to one side that had been added after the main house was built.
I might knock that wing down and add a modern extension,” Evan remarked, and she gasped.
“Oh, please don’t do that,” she answered and then remembered he was the client. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.” He shook his head.
“Why?” Jazz took a breath.
“I love the history of these places. I like the history of gardens the most, but the houses are fascinating as well. You could have the walls cleaned properly, replace the guttering and windows with modern versions that still look in keeping, and completely gut the inside. You would maintain the history but make it comfortable.” She paused and grinned. “It would be cheaper as well, and the extra could pay for the decking above the rock garden.” Evan laughed out loud, which was another surprise to his system, and told her that he would reconsider his plans.
“There were some odd stories about the house. I must try and find out what they were.”
“I’d love to hear them when you do,” she added and opened the door of the off-roader. “Will make a start tomorrow.” She roared away in the gigantic monster, and Evan Sutherland made a mental note to be around when she was. Then he reminded himself about being hurt before and that this venture was his new start.
“Nowomen ,” he told himself and went to look over the wing he had been about to pull down.
JAZZ DROVE into the enclosure where Rob Manners kept his machinery and was pleased to see him actually there. She waved as he came over.
“Hi Rob. Have you space to fit in a tree cutting venture at Chestnut Hall?” He raised his eyebrows. “Has someone bought it?
That place has been empty for years.” Jazz nodded.
“Seems quite a decent sort of bloke. In his thirties, I would think. Anyway, we found an old water tank at the top of the rock garden that is dangerous, and the only way to access it is to chop our way through the trees.” She showed him the photos and said she would be there tomorrow if he wanted to take a look.
“Mmm,” he replied. “Curiosity will get me there. About ten okay for you?” She explained about the woodland walk and new decking, and they parted company.
Jazz returned to the nursery and joined her sister for a bite to eat. Their father had always grown plants for sale, and the two girls both knew they wanted to carry on the work. Kim had developed the nursery and Jazz had gone into garden landscaping. When she required plants, Kim could supply them, and they both helped each other when needed.
“What’s he like this Evan?” Kim asked through a mouthful of sandwich.
“About six feet, dark ginger hair, and doesn’t say much,” Jazz told her. Kim raised an eyebrow and paused in eating her lunch.
“Must be attractive or you would have said something,” she surmised, and Jazz screwed up her eyes.
“Something about him. He seems like someone I should recognize but didn’t,” she said. “Anyway, maybe Rob will figure him out tomorrow. Ben and Carly can start on the rill and the firm cleaning the stonework is coming to see what the job entails as well.” She hesitated. “I opened my big mouth again and told him he was wrong to knock the west wing down and rebuild it as modern.” Kim laughed.
“That’s my girl,” she said.
“He was actually okay with it and said he wanted to find out about the old stories he’s heard about the place,” Jazz answered and offered to do some potting up in the greenhouses. Kim accepted immediately as it was always so hot you could melt doing work like that. The two sisters went back to work and saw that Gilly, who worked in the little shop they had, was doing a roaring trade. Kim stopped to lend a hand, and Jazz was left to work with plants and let
her imagination wander over the old house and garden. Seeing the Cordylines for the middle of planters and the colorful summer flowers to surround them, she stopped long enough to phone the supplier and ask for eight stone urns to be delivered to Chestnut Hall. Her own work the next day was to start on the gigantic rock garden.
Jazz met up with her small team of workers early the next morning and explained the cleaning of the rill leading down the slope.
“We’ll get a digger to take out the pond and line it,” she told them. “I’ll make a start on this enormous alpine garden.”
Carly James was her usual colorful and exuberant self. She was in her late twenties; tall, slim, and tanned from working outdoors, but what everyone noticed about Carly was the color. Today the hair was electric blue and the orange, cropped tank top left very little to the imagination. Tight jeans and heavy footwear completed the outfit, and the many layers of necklaces around her neck never seemed to get in the way of the work. Carly was unfailingly cheerful, even when disaster struck. She trundled a wheelbarrow laden with the tools she might need and found the top of the rill.
“Come on, Ben,” she called and then stopped to ask how anyone got to the top of the rock garden. Jazz showed them the diagonal rocks that led to what would be the new lookout point and explained what she had in mind.
“Yuk. That tank is disgusting,” Carly said and pretended to push Ben over the edge of the rocks. As the man weighed as much as a small truck, he was unmoved by the joke. Ben was a serious-minded young man. He enjoyed what he learned from Jazz and planned to have his own garden services one day. He asked about the platform and when Rob Manners was coming. Jazz knew full well that he
wanted to be in on the plan and said she would give him a shout when Rob arrived.
The three of them were as unlike in many ways as people could be, but all got on well as both colleagues and friends. Carly had been at school with Jazz and her sister, and their friendship had always been strong.
“Will we meet this new owner?” Ben asked, and Jazz replied that he would probably come to meet Rob Manners. Jazz spotted a truck pulling in and asked the other two to start work. She explained to the cleaning firm where the terrace and steps were. Then with everyone started, Jazz collected tools and a wheelbarrow and started at one corner of the rock garden. Seen from ground level, it was an enormous task.
“Got to start somewhere ,” she muttered to herself and pulled out the first of the weeds. Once started, she settled to enjoy the work and found several plants that were well worth keeping. The soil was loose and sandy, and the weeds came out fairly easily, and by ten o’clock she had unloaded four barrows full of weeds into what would be the compost heap. She could see an alpine garden starting to emerge. Rob Manners arrived, and she took a drink from her bottle of water and went to meet him. As they walked back to the rock garden, she called to Ben and Carly to have a break as well. They were about to climb down from the rocks when Evan Sutherland could be seen striding down the grass towards them.
“This is the new owner,” Jazz told them quietly, but Rob Manners bounded forward to meet him.
“Evan? Evan Sutherland. My Lord. I cannot believe it’s you.” The two men stopped in front of each other.
“Rob the Wrecker. This is unbelievable.” The two men wrapped arms around each other in one of those man hugs that they all seem to do nowadays. They slapped each other on the shoulder, pushed away, and hugged again. The three onlookers were open mouthed and waited for the exuberance to stop. Rob turned.
“Jasmine Summer, you never told me it was this Evan Sutherland.”
“I never said his name. I just said the new owner of Chestnut Hall,” she paused “But you had better explain all this old boy stuff.” Evan stepped forward, but before he could say anything, Rob burst in again.
“This is THE Evan Sutherland. He is the best mountain climber we have ever produced.” Jazz gasped.
“I knew I should know you from somewhere. I am so sorry I never realized. Your books are all best sellers.” Evan waved that aside.
“I was pleased. I bought this place for peace and quiet. I don’t want publicity.” “Our lips are sealed,” Jazz told him and introduced Ben and Carly.
“You’re the guy on television who swings on ropes from overhanging rocks and then climbs sheer faces,” Ben was awestruck. “You are amazing.” Evan Sutherland shook the man’s hand.
“Please keep the news to yourself. I really do want to just be one of the locals.” Ben nodded, and Rob Manners broke in.
“I guess the Colorado Mountains are not too far for practice climbs,” He grinned. Evan agreed that it was one of the reasons to be in that area.
“Are you game for a few easy ones? I need a partner.”
“Would be great. Like the old days but I am not as fit as I used to be.”
“What old days are these exactly?” Jazz demanded. It seemed that the two men had been army buddies and climbed together “Then we lost touch,” Rob said and grinned. “Small world though. Let’s see this tank situation.”
“I guess you want a winding, artistic pathway through the trees?” he said to Jazz who nodded.
“You are finally starting to get the hang of this design thing,” she laughed. “But, yes, a winding path that suddenly brings you out to a spectacular view. We can cantilever a deck out over the roc, garden, and it will be even more exciting.”
“If we fill in the tank with rocks and rubble, it will help to steady the decking and act as a base,” Rob added.
“Sounds great,” Evan hesitated. “Is it expensive?” Rob slapped him on the back.
“Get your hands dirty and give us a hand, and I’ll charge the basic wages I have to pay the drivers.” He turned to Jazz. “If you can spare Ben as well when we need the manpower, it would be a help.” She nodded.
“Okay. Let’s get back to work today.” They climbed down the rocks, and the man who cut the grass came over to tell Evan that a truck had arrived with pots.
“Oh good,” Jazz said. “The urns.” Ben and Carly went back to work while Jazz, the grass cutter, Evan, and Rob all walked back to see the delivery. The urns were enormous and heavy, but with the deliverymen, Rob and Evan they were installed at each side of the now clean stone steps.
“Wow. What a difference,” Evan said. Jazz was pleased with the effect and thought she would ask her sister to plant them up. She took photos to let Kim see what was needed.
“I’ll leave you two to catch up and get back to the garden,” she said and set off back across the grass; then she stopped and went back to the grass cutter.
“I’m Jasmine Summer,” she told him, “The one sorting out the garden. I was wondering if you would like a couple of extra days a week to help with the border plants. You probably know the place quite well.” The man’s face broke into a broad grin.
“I would love it,” he answered. “I’m Dan Lestrade. I can start tomorrow if you like.”
“How long have you been here?” she asked, and he told her that he had known the garden for years because his uncle had been the gardener here thirty years ago.
“So, you would know about this mysterious reputation the place seems to have.” He held out a hand.
“Thanks for the work. I’ll go and visit my uncle and see what he can remember.” “See you tomorrow then,” Jazz said and started back to the garden.
SHE SENT the others away at the end of the day but decided to carry on with the garden. It was peaceful and quiet in the garden, and she reflected that this had been a beautiful garden in its heyday. She sat back on her heels and gazed around. Standing up to get an idea of how the garden would look, eventually she made a note to move some of the rocks.
“Ben can use his muscle tohelp me ,” she thought with a smile and moved to the side of the stones. To get a better view, she climbed onto the first large rock and balanced her foot against the soil. Her foot slipped, and she fell against the side of the hillside. Then she saw, from her viewpoint on the ground, that the wall was made of wood covered with a layer of soil. Jazz forgot the uncomfortable bumps and bruises and rubbed her hand over the wood to scrape away the earth. Getting a hold on the wood, she pulled, and the whole thing came away in her hands with a shower of dirt and rotten splinters. Jazz leaned forward cautiously and looked through what appeared to be an entrance. The light only reached so far inside, but there were some flickers of something that glistened. She wondered if the place was flooded but had no flashlight to look further.
“I’d best go and see what Evan thinks,” she thought and walked up to the house. They had all appeared to use the back door of the property. It was a servant’s doorway from when the house was built but led into a huge kitchen. She knocked on the door and waited. There was no reply. His car was in the yard, so she knocked again and then turned the handle and shouted. Evan Sutherland came into the kitchen shrugging his arms into a shirt and stopped short when he saw Jazz.
“I thought everyone had gone,” he said and then realized that sounded a bit unfriendly. In fact, it gave his inside a little twist to see the slim gardener standing in his kitchen.
“I’m sorry. I seem to be shedding soil onto the floor,” she responded. “But I found something you should see. Have you got a flashlight?” He went to a cupboard and produced a large silver flashlight. Her eyes did appreciate the toned muscles she could see under the loose shirt. “No harm in enjoying the view,” she thought to herself.
“Sounds intriguing,” He answered. “Have you found buried treasure?” Jazz shook her head. “Sorry. No treasure. Just an entrance under the garden.” His eyes widened slightly.
“An entrance?” She nodded.
“Come and see what you think.” They reached the spot where she had fallen, and Jazz stood back to let him shine the flashlight inside. He weaved the beam around inside what seemed to be some sort of cave, and then he gave it to Jazz to look as well.
“It’s a grotto,” she breathed. “It’s a crystal grotto that was made as a fantasy folly in the garden. It must come out somewhere else.” The beam of light flashed across the tiny quartz crystals in the rock walls, and without thinking about safety, she stepped inside. Evan caught her arm.
“Be careful. It might be dangerous.” He stepped inside as well, and the two of them tried to take in the shape of the discovery.
“It leads off behind where the garden is,” Jazz said and pointed with the light. She took a step, but he caught and held her arm fast.
“I don’t stay safe on mountains by stepping into the unknown. Back outside until we decide what to do.” Jazz realized he was right and followed him back into daylight.
“If this is at one side of the garden, the other entrance should be on the other side,” she reasoned, and they walked past the enormous alpine garden to scrape away at soil where the stones ended and a grassy bank began. Jazz ran back and found her trowel and spade, and they dug away wildly at the turf and soil to discover another wooden panel. Evan gave the wood a bang with the spade. It splintered and started to crumble. The two of them pulled away at the rubble and cleared the space to find a similar entrance to the other side. The beam of the flashlight showed that the grotto
probably went all the way behind the garden and was lined with quartz crystal.
“This is a fabulous find,” Jazz said. “We can make it part of the remake. Steps from the viewing platform to the entrance and put in some lighting to show the way for visitors to explore. Just like it was intended to be in the first place.”
“ W 3 e need to block these entrances until someone inspects it properly,” Evan said. “There are two old doors in the garage. That should do it.”
“If we lay lots of stones against them,” Jazz added, and they set off for the garage. The doors were old and heavy, but with a wheelbarrow and one holding the door to balance, they made it in two trips and stood the doors against the entrances. There were stones that had fallen loose from the garden, and they were used to hold it all in place. Evan dusted his hands.
“Let’s have a coffee and decide what to do,” he suggested, and they left the newly found grotto and went inside.
“Can I wash my hands?” she asked, and he showed her to a bathroom. It was outdated but clean and tidy, and she felt better for splashing water on her face. He was waiting in the enormous kitchen and asked if she would like a sandwich.
“Yes, please. I am starving. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Good heavens,” he said and flipped a frying pan out of the cupboard. With the ease of a practiced chef, he threw steaks into the pan, tossed together a salad, and popped a couple of jacket potatoes into the microwave. Jazz was impressed. In a matter of minutes, the man produced a meal as good as any in a restaurant and set the coffee to perk. Jasmine Summer was slender but had the
appetite of a working laborer. She demolished the meal in seconds, to his utter amazement.
“How do you stay slim with an appetite like that?” he asked with a smile, and she told him that hard physical work would do the trick.
“More to the point, how did you learn to cook like a chef? It was fabulous.”
“Keeping climbing fit is like any other athlete, and it was easier and cheaper to learn how to cook myself than pay somebody else. Then I found I enjoyed it.”
“Well I certainly appreciated your skills; I’ll have to return the favor.” “And cook me a meal?”
“Good Lord no. I’ll buy you a pizza,” she answered and looked around. He saw the glance and remarked that this was the wing he was no longer going to pull down.
“But I need a modern kitchen,” he told her. Jazz nodded.
“If I could cook---which I can’t---I would have a professional stainless-steel cooking area and freestanding traditional cupboard units to soften the effect. Steel with granite worktops is easy to sterilize and keep clean,” she paused. “And a huge farmhouse table where I could sit with my friends.” She smiled. “Maybe a woodburning stove and a couple of armchairs with a television on the wall.” Evan Sutherland found himself laughing out loud and easily for the first time in many months.
“You have a gift there, Jazz. It sounds great,” he stood up. “Come and see the rest. I might as well use your expertise.” He opened the door to a dining room and then a living room. The kitchen and the dining room had views of the garden. There were two other living rooms. One was another much larger living room and a smaller room she thought you would describe as a den. The whole lot was clean and tidy but still looked as if it was living about forty years ago.
“Well?” he asked.
“Formal dining room in the den. Comfortable lounge for friends, present dining room as your study and you could write with views of the garden.” He handed her a coffee, and they sat back at the table.
“I HAVEN’T WRITTEN a word in months, or done any climbing,” he confessed and thought back over the life he was running away from. Jazz caught the flash of sadness in his face and touched his arm.
“They say that moving is almost as stressful as bereavement. The new garden and updating the house will give you time to get over it.” She paused and smiled. “Hands and knees and getting my hands in the soil is therapy for me. I can put you to use on the garden.” He laughed and asked if it would reduce the bill. She said she would calculate his wages and deduct it from the total.
“What do we do about the grotto?” she asked, and he sat back in his chair.
“My brother is a building engineer, and he was going to visit anyway. I’ll twist his arm to come tomorrow, and he can use his professional judgment.”
“There are two of you?” she smiled, and he told her they were as different as chalk and cheese.
“Dexter would rather read a book than do any exercise outdoors but our parents are passed away, and it is good to have someone close.” He hesitated. “Someone on your side when things are bad.” He almost started to tell her how bad things had been but stopped himself.
“Our parents are passed as well. You will meet Kim as she is going to plant up those enormous urns on the steps,” Jazz replied. “Dad started the nursery, and we both keep it going.”
“Until the grotto gets the all clear we will have to make sure nobody is curious and goes inside,” Evan added.
Jazz agreed and looked at her watch.
“Heavens. Look at the time. Thanks for dinner. I really enjoyed it.”
“Me too,” he answered and at the door realized that he was very close to running a hand through her hair. “See you tomorrow.”
“Night,” she said, and he walked her to the monster off-roader. Evan Sutherland stood for several minutes staring into space where the car had stood and then he went back inside the kitchen.
“Wonder what color she wouldpaint the walls ?” he mused and went to phone Dex.”
JAZZ HURRIED into the house to tell her sister about the grotto. Kim listened to the tale but put her hands on her hips.
“It doesn’t take this long to look at a cave in the garden.” She waited, and Jazz had the grace to grin. “Okay. Okay. We got to talking, and he cooked me a steak.” Kim was staggered.
“He cooked for you. Good heavens, Jazz. Where are you heading with this?” Kim asked and sat down on a kitchen chair. Jazz made herself a coffee and told her sister that there was nothing to say; it was nothing more than a friendly gesture.
“He came and helped me dig out the entrances, and then we blocked them to stop anyone from getting hurt,” Jazz told her. “We have to talk about what he wants in the garden.”
“Mmmm,” was Kim’s response.
“I told him you were coming to plant the urns.” Jazz paused and then told her sister that the older gardener had an uncle that used to work in the garden. “I am hoping to find out if he knew about the grotto.”
“Rob Manners dropped by to find out when you wanted him to start. He says the rumors were about the wife who disappeared along with a lot of cash.”
“I suppose you made him a coffee and gave him cake?” Jazz got in a shot of her own, and her sister grinned.
“He does love cake,” she replied. “But what about him being an army pal of Evan Sutherland?”
“Small world,” Jazz replied. “And his brother is coming to check out if the cave is safe. He’s a building engineer apparently.”
“There are two of them---you’ll be spoiled for choice,” her sister joked and had a cushion thrown at her head as a response.
I am betting your curiosity gets those urns planted tomorrow,” Jazz responded, and as that was exactly what Kim had in mind, she just caught the cushion and threw it back.
THE DAY STARTED EARLY, as Kim had to sort out the greenhouses before setting off with the big van filled with an assortment of plants. She had struggled to load a huge bag of compost for each urn and was hoping there would be someone to help her unload at the other end. Jazz had gone on ahead and found Evan waiting outside of the kitchen door.
“Mornin’, interior designer,” he started, and she grinned.
“Maybe you should become a chef, and I should do interiors.” He stepped towards her and pointed to where Ben and Carly were taking equipment down to where they were working.
“We should get to everyone and warn them before someone stumbles on the cave and pokes around inside,” he said, and she nodded.
“Come on.” She set off towards her workers and then heard the sound of Rob’s truck arrive as well. Hard on his heels was Kim in the nursery van. “You go and talk to Ben and Carly, and I’ll bring Kim and Rob down as well,” she added. “And Dan Lestrade.” The new recruit had just arrived.
The group assembled.
“You tell them,” Jazz said to Evan who told what had happened the evening before. There was excitement in the group.
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COMMON TOMATA SAUCE.
Tomatas are so juicy when ripe that they require little or no liquid to reduce them to a proper consistence for sauce; and they vary so exceedingly in size and quality that it is difficult to give precise directions for the exact quantity which in their unripe state is needed for them. Take off the stalks, halve the tomatas, and gently squeeze out the seeds and watery pulp; then stew them softly with a few spoonsful of gravy or of strong broth until they are quite melted. Press the whole through a hair-sieve, and heat it afresh with a little additional gravy should it be too thick, and some cayenne, and salt. Serve it very hot.
Fine ripe tomatas, 6 or 8; gravy or strong broth, 4 tablespoonsful: 1/2 to 3/4 hour, or longer if needed. Salt and cayenne sufficient to season the sauce, and two or three spoonsful more of gravy if required.
Obs.—For a large tureen of this sauce, increase the proportions; and should it be at first too liquid, reduce it by quick boiling. When neither gravy nor broth is at hand, the tomatas may be stewed perfectly tender, but very gently, in a couple of ounces of butter, with some cayenne and salt only, or with the addition of a very little finely minced onion; then rubbed through a sieve, and heated, and served without any addition, or with only that of a teaspoonful of chili vinegar; or, when the colour is not a principal consideration, with a few spoonsful of rich cream, smoothly mixed with a little flour to prevent its curdling. The sauce must be stirred without ceasing should the last be added, and boiled for four or five minutes.
A FINER TOMATA SAUCE.
Stew very gently a dozen fine red tomatas, prepared as for the preceding receipt, with two or three sliced eschalots, four or five chilies or a capsicum or two (or in lieu of either, with a quarter of a teaspoonful of cayenne pepper), a few small dice of lean ham, and half a cupful of rich gravy. Stir these often, and when the tomatas are reduced quite to a smooth pulp, rub them through a sieve; put them into a clean saucepan, with a few spoonsful more of rich gravy, or Espagnole, add salt if needed, boil the sauce stirring it well for ten minutes, and serve it very hot. When the gravy is exceedingly good and highly flavoured, the ham may be omitted: a dozen small mushrooms nicely cleaned may also be sliced and stewed with the tomatas, instead of the eschalots, when their flavour is preferred, or they may be added with them. The exact proportion of liquid used is immaterial, for should the sauce be too thin it may be reduced by rapid boiling, and diluted with more gravy if too thick.
BOILED APPLE SAUCE.
Apples of a fine cooking sort require but a very small portion of liquid to boil down well and smoothly for sauce, if placed over a gentle fire in a close-shutting saucepan, and simmered as softly as possible until they are well broken; and their flavour is injured by the common mode of adding so much to them, that the greater part must be drained off again before they are sent to table. Pare the fruit quickly, quarter it, and be careful entirely to remove the cores; put one tablespoonful of water into a saucepan before the apples are thrown in, and proceed, as we have directed, to simmer them until they are nearly ready to serve: finish the sauce by the receipt which follows.
Apples, 1/2 lb.; water, 1 tablespoonful; stewed very softly: 30 to 60 minutes.
Obs.—These proportions are sufficient only for a small tureen of the sauce, and should be doubled for a large one.
For this, and all other preparations, apples will be whiter if just dipped into fresh water the instant before they are put into the stewpan. They should be quickly lifted from it, and will stew down easily to sauce with only the moisture which hangs about them. They should be watched and often gently stirred, that they may be equally done.
BAKED APPLE SAUCE.
(Good.)
Put a tablespoonful of water into a quart basin, and fill it with good boiling apples, pared, quartered, and carefully cored: put a plate over, and set them into a moderate oven for about an hour, or until they are reduced quite to a pulp; beat them smooth with a clean wooden spoon, adding to them a little sugar and a morsel of fresh butter, when these are liked, though they will scarcely be required.
The sauce made thus is far superior to that which is boiled. When no other oven is at hand, a Dutch or an American one would probably answer for it; but we cannot assert this on our own experience.
Good boiling apples, 1 quart: baked 1 hour (more or less according to the quality of the fruit, and temperature of the oven); sugar, 1 oz.; butter, 1/2 oz.
BROWN APPLE SAUCE.
Stew gently down to a thick and perfectly smooth marmalade, a pound of pearmains, or of any other well-flavoured boiling apples, in about the third of a pint of rich brown gravy: season the sauce rather highly with black pepper or cayenne, and serve it very hot. Curry sauce will make an excellent substitute for the gravy when a very piquant accompaniment is wanted for pork or other rich meat.
Apples pared and cored, 1 lb.; good brown gravy, third of pint 3/4 to 1-1/4 hour. Pepper or cayenne as needed.
WHITE ONION SAUCE.
Strip the skin from some large white onions, and after having taken off the tops and roots cut them in two, throw them into cold water as they are done, cover them plentifully with more water, and boil them very tender; lift them out, drain, and then press the water thoroughly from them; chop them small, rub them through a sieve or strainer, put them into a little rich melted butter mixed with a spoonful or two of cream or milk, and a seasoning of salt, give the sauce a boil, and serve it very hot. Portugal onions are superior to any others, both for this and for most other purposes of cookery.
For the finest kind of onion sauce, see Soubise, page 126, which follows.
BROWN ONION SAUCE.
Cut off both ends of the onions, and slice them into a saucepan in which two ounces of butter have been dissolved; keep them stewing gently over a clear fire until they are lightly coloured; then pour to them half a pint of brown gravy, and when they have boiled until they are perfectly tender, work the sauce altogether through a strainer, season it with a little cayenne, and serve it very hot.
ANOTHER BROWN ONION SAUCE.
Mince the onions, stew them in butter until they are well coloured, stir in a dessertspoonful of flour, shake the stewpan over the fire for three or four minutes, pour in only as much broth or gravy as will leave the sauce tolerably thick, season, and serve it.
SOUBISE.
(English Receipt.)
Skin, slice, and mince quickly two pounds’ weight of the white part only of some fine mild onions, and stew them in from two to three ounces of good butter over a very gentle fire until they are reduced to a pulp, then pour to them three-quarters of a pint of rich veal gravy; add a seasoning of salt and cayenne, if needed; skim off the fat entirely, press the sauce through a sieve, heat it in a clean stewpan, mix it with a quarter of a pint of rich boiling cream, and serve it directly.
Onions, 2 lbs.; butter, 2 to 3 oz.: 30 minutes to 1 hour. Veal gravy, 3/4 pint; salt, cayenne: 5 minutes. Cream, 1/4 pint.
SOUBISE.
(French Receipt.)
Peel some fine white onions, and trim away all tough and discoloured parts; mince them small, and throw them into plenty of boiling water; when they have boiled quickly for five minutes drain them well in a sieve, then stew them very softly indeed in an ounce or two of fresh butter until they are dry and perfectly tender; stir to them as much béchamel as will bring them to the consistence of very thick pea-soup, pass the whole through a strainer, pressing the onion strongly that none may remain behind, and heat the sauce afresh, without allowing it to boil. A small half-teaspoonful of pounded sugar is sometimes added to this soubise.
White part of onions, 2 lbs.: blanched 5 minutes. Butter, 2 oz.: 30 to 50 minutes. Béchamel, 3/4 to 1 pint, or more.
Obs.—These sauces are served more frequently with lamb or mutton cutlets than with any other dishes; but they would probably find many approvers if sent to table with roast mutton, or boiled veal. Half the quantity given above will be sufficient for a moderate-sized dish.
MILD RAGOUT OF GARLIC, OR, L’AIL À LA BORDELAISE.
Divide some fine cloves of garlic, strip off the skin, and when all are ready throw them into plenty of boiling water slightly salted; in five minutes drain this from them, and pour in as much more, which should also be quite boiling; continue to change it every five or six minutes until the garlic is quite tender: throw in a moderate proportion of salt the last time to give it the proper flavour. Drain it thoroughly, and serve it in the dish with roast mutton, or put it into good brown gravy or white sauce for table. By changing very frequently the water in which it is boiled, the root will be deprived of its naturally pungent flavour and smell, and rendered extremely mild: when it is not wished to be quite so much so, change the water every ten minutes only.
Garlic, 1 pint: 15 to 25 minutes, or more. Water to be changed every 5 or 6 minutes; or every 10 minutes when not wished so very mild. Gravy or sauce, 1 pint.
MILD ESCHALOT SAUCE.
Prepare and boil from half to a whole pint of eschalots by the preceding receipt; unless very large, they will be tender in about fifteen minutes, sometimes in less, in which case the water must be poured from them shortly after it has been changed for the second time. When grown in a suitable soil, and cultivated with care, the eschalots are sometimes treble the size that they are under other circumstances; and this difference must be allowed for in boiling them. Drain them well, and mix them with white sauce or gravy, or with good melted butter, and serve them very hot.
A FINE SAUCE, OR PURÉE OF VEGETABLE MARROW.
Pare one or two half-grown marrows and cut out all the seeds; take a pound of the vegetable, and slice it, with one ounce of mild onion, into a pint of strong veal broth or of pale gravy; stew them very softly for nearly or quite an hour; add salt and cayenne, or white pepper, when they are nearly done; press the whole through a fine and delicately clean hair-sieve; heat it afresh, and stir to it when it boils about the third of a pint of rich cream. Serve it with boiled chickens, stewed or boiled veal, lamb cutlets, or any other delicate meat. When to be served as a purée, an additional half-pound of the vegetable must be used; and it should be dished with small fried sippets round it. For a maigre dish, stew the marrow and onion quite tender in butter, and dilute them with half boiling water and half cream.
Vegetable marrow, 1 lb.; mild onion, 1 oz.; strong broth or pale gravy, 1 pint: nearly or quite 1 hour Pepper or cayenne, and salt as needed; good cream, from 1/4 to 3/4 of pint. For purée, 1/2 lb. more of marrow.
EXCELLENT TURNIP, OR ARTICHOKE SAUCE FOR BOILED MEAT.
Pare, slice, and boil quite tender, some finely-grained mild turnips, press the water from them thoroughly, and pass them through a sieve. Dissolve a slice of butter in a clean saucepan, and stir to it a large teaspoonful of flour, or mix them smoothly together before they are put in, and shake the saucepan round until they boil: pour to them very gradually nearly a pint of thin cream (or of good milk mixed with a portion of cream), add the turnips with a halfteaspoonful or more of salt, and when the whole is well mixed and very hot, pour it over boiled mutton, veal, lamb, or poultry. There should be sufficient of the sauce to cover the meat entirely;[58] and when properly made it improves greatly the appearance of a joint. A little cayenne tied in a muslin may be boiled in the milk before it is mixed with the turnips. Jerusalem artichokes make a more delicate sauce of this kind even than turnips; the weight of both vegetables must be taken after they are pared.
58. The objection to masking a joint with this or any other sauce is, that it speedily becomes cold when spread over its surface: a portion of it at least should be served very hot in a tureen.
Pared turnips or artichokes, 1 lb.; fresh butter, 1-1/2 oz.; flour, 1 large teaspoonful (twice as much if all milk be used); salt, 1/2 teaspoonful or more; cream, or cream and milk mixed, from 3/4 to 1 pint.
OLIVE SAUCE.
Remove the stones from some fine French or Italian olives by paring the fruit close to them, round and round in the form of a corkscrew: they will then resume their original shape when done. Weigh six ounces thus prepared, throw them into boiling water, let them blanch for five minutes; then drain, and throw them into cold water, and leave them in it from half an hour to an hour, proportioning the time to their saltness; drain them well, and stew them gently from fifteen to twenty-five minutes in a pint of very rich brown gravy or Espagnole (see Chapter IV.); add the juice of half a lemon, and serve the sauce very hot. Half this quantity will be sufficient for a small party.
Olives, stoned, 6 oz.; rich gravy, 1 pint: 15 to 25 minutes. Juice, 1/2 lemon.
Obs.—In France this sauce is served very commonly with ducks, and sometimes with beef-steaks, and with stewed fowl.
CELERY SAUCE.
Slice the white part of from three to five heads of young tender celery; peel it if not very young, and boil it in salt and water for twenty minutes. If for white sauce put the celery, after it has been well drained, into half a pint of veal broth or gravy, and let it stew until it is quite soft; then add an ounce and a half of butter, mixed with a dessertspoonful of flour, and a quarter of a pint of thick cream or the yolks of three eggs. The French, after boiling the celery, which they cut very small, for about twenty minutes, drain and chop it; then put it with a slice of butter into a stewpan, and season it with pepper, salt, and nutmeg; they keep these stirred over the fire for two or three minutes, and then dredge in a dessertspoonful of flour: when this has lost its raw taste, they pour in a sufficient quantity of white gravy to moisten the celery, and to allow for twenty minutes’ longer boiling. A very good common celery sauce is made by simply stewing the celery cut into inch-lengths in butter, until it begins to be tender; and then adding a spoonful of flour, which must be allowed to brown a little, and half a pint of good broth or beef gravy, with a seasoning of pepper or cayenne.
Celery, 3 to 5 heads: 20 minutes. Veal broth, or gravy, 1/2 pint; 20 to 40 minutes. Butter, 1-1/2 oz.; flour, 1 dessertspoonful; cream, 1/4 pint, or three yolks of eggs.
WHITE CHESTNUT SAUCE.
Strip the outer rind from six ounces of sound sweet chestnuts, then throw them into boiling water, and let them simmer for two or three minutes, when the second skin will easily peel off. Add to them three quarters of a pint of good cold veal gravy, and a few strips of lemon rind, and let them stew gently for an hour and a quarter. Press them, with the gravy, through a hair-sieve reversed and placed over a deep dish or pan, as they are much more easily rubbed through thus than in the usual way: a wooden spoon should be used in preference to any other for the process. Add a little cayenne and mace, some salt if needed, and about six tablespoonsful of rich cream. Keep the sauce stirred until it boils, and serve it immediately.
Chestnuts without their rinds, 6 oz.; veal gravy, 1 pint; rind of 1/2 lemon: 1-1/4 hour. Salt; spice; cream, 6 tablespoonsful.
Obs.—This sauce may be served with turkey, with fowls, or with stewed veal cutlets.
BROWN CHESTNUT SAUCE.
Substitute rich brown gravy for the veal stock, omit the lemon-rind and cream, heighten the seasonings, and mix the chestnuts with a few spoonsful of Espagnole or highly flavoured gravy, after they have been passed through the sieve.
PARSLEY-GREEN, FOR COLOURING SAUCES.
Gather a quantity of young parsley, strip it from the stalks, wash it very clean, shake it as dry as possible in a cloth, pound it in a mortar, press all the juice closely from it through a hair-sieve reversed, and put it into a clean jar; set it into a pan of boiling water, and in about three minutes, if gently simmered, the juice will be poached sufficiently; lay it then upon a clean sieve to drain, and it will be ready for use.
Spinach-green, for which particular directions will be found at the commencement of Chapter XXIV., is prepared in the same manner. The juice of various herbs pounded together may be pressed from them through a sieve and added to cold sauces.
TO CRISP PARSLEY
Wash some branches of young parsley well, drain them from the water, and swing them in a clean cloth until they are quite dry; place them on a sheet of writing paper in a Dutch oven, before a brisk fire, and keep them frequently turned until they are quite crisp. They will become so in from six to eight minutes.
