The cook who wishes to display her skill in poaching, must endeavour to procure eggs that have been laid a couple of days - those that are quite new-laid are so milky that, take all the care you can, your cooking of them will seldom procure you the praise of being a prime poacher; you must have fresh eggs, or it is equally impossible. The beauty of a poached egg is for the yolk to be seen blushing through the white, which should only be just sufficiently hardened, to form a transparent veil for the egg. Have some boiling water in a tea-kettle; pass as much of it through a clean cloth as will half fill a stewpan; break the egg into a cup, and when the water boils, remove the stewpan from the stove, and gently slip the egg into it; it must stand till the white is set; then put it over a very moderate fire, and as soon as the water boils, the egg is ready; take it up with a slice, and neatly round off the ragged edges of the white; send them up on bread toasted on one side only, with or without butter; or without a toast, garnished with streaked bacon nicely fried, or slices of broiled beef or mutton, anchovies, pork sausages, or spinage. The bread should be a little larger than the egg, and about a quarter of an inch thick; only just give it a yellow color: if you toast it brown, it will get a bitter flavour; or moisten it by pouring a little hot water upon it: some sprinkle it with a few drops of vinegar, or of essence of anchovy.
Poach the eggs as before directed, and take two or three slices of boiled hum; mince it fine with a gherkin, a morsel of onion, a little parsley, and pepper and salt; stew all together a quarter of an hour; serve up your sauce about half boiling; put the eggs in a dish, squeeze over the juice of half a Seville orange, or lemon, and pout the sauce over them.