Like souffles, mousses, etc., the entrees treated of in this chapter have been pretty generally relegated to the haute cuisine, and as such considered entirely outside the sphere of the ordinary cook. This, however, is a mistake, for, granted that "cook" can produce good pastry, she can perfectly well make either vol-au-vent, or even a timbale; while, if she has not got what is technically known as "a light hand for pastry," the most ordinary meat pie or fruit tart is beyond her reach. Unfortunately, the art of pastry making is not easily acquired from description, so, if possible, a cook should always be taught this part of her profession by demonstration and practice. Have ready ½lb. of good puff paste, to which you have given six turns (be very careful in the rolling out of this; all puff paste needs rolling evenly if it is to rise properly; but for vol-au-vent, which, as its name implies, is the lightest form of pastry, this precaution is doubly requisite), and with a round or oblong cutter, about 8in. in diameter (or, if oval, 9in. by 6in.), stamp out evenly a round of this paste from fin. to l½in. thick, and slip it on to a buttered baking dish; now, with another cutter, stamp out a round inside the first, allowing an inch margin all round, and being careful to press the inner cutter only about two-thirds the depth of the crust; then brush it all over with a beaten egg, and place the sheet with the vol-au-vent upon it into a brisk oven and bake for twenty to thirty minutes, according to the thickness you elect to make your vol-au-vent. You then lift out the inner rim, and carefully scrape off all the inside underdone and rather greasy paste, without injuring the sides of the case, and cover any thin places with a flake or two of the crust removed from the centre, or the gravy will leak out and spoil the appearance of the dish.

If properly made, the paste will have risen pretty high and be quite light and flakey. It is now filled with any rich ragout to taste, the inner round, carefully freed from any greasy underdone paste, being placed lightly on the top to act as a cover. Little patty cases, which are simply miniature vol-au-vent, are made in precisely the same way. Some cooks make their vol-au-vent by stamping out three or four rounds of puff paste, according to the height they wish the vol-au-vent to be, leaving one round whole, but cutting the centres out of the others, and these are then baked for fifteen to twenty minutes, and when cooked lightly brushed over with white of egg, and piled one on the other, one of the inner circles being used as a cover. But though this is a trifle easier to make than the proper way, the effect is not nearly so satisfactory. The difference between a timbale and a vol-au-vent is that the latter is always made with puff paste, and is allowed to rise to the fullest capacity of the paste; whereas, for a timbale, short paste is used, well pricked to prevent its rising, and is made in a mould, in which the timbale crust is kept till the last minute.

For the paste take ½lb. of fine sifted flour, 4oz. butter, half a teaspoonful of salt, the yolk of an egg and about a gill of water (this depends a good deal on the flour); make a well or hollow in the flour (technically called a "bay"), and into this put the egg, salt, butter, and two-thirds of the water, and with your fingers work this all to a rather firm dough; next dip your fingers into the flour to free them from the paste sticking to them, sprinkle a little more water over it, and work it up till it comes clear away from the sides of the basin in a ball; then throw a doubled cloth over the basin till the paste is wanted, when you roll it out, and with it line a well buttered mould, pressing the paste well to take the shape sharply (one of the jointed moulds with hinged sides, is the nicest for this, as the timbale when cooked can be more readily and safely turned out), prick it well all over, put a sheet of paper inside and fill this with rice, etc, and bake; a cover to match should be prepared from puff paste, and cooked with the timbale.

Formerly, a timbale was cooked in a stewpan, and, indeed, properly it is a form of pie, mostly served cold.

Another method is to line a mould with the crust, as described above, then pack it with whatever you mean to fill it with, generally a rich ragout of chicken, macaroni, cream, Parmesan cheese, etc.; make a small hole in the paste with which you cover it, and bake; then turn it out and serve with or without rich gravy round it. In Prance meat pies, called tourtes bourgeoises, are made in this way, only differing from English pies by their delicacy and lightness, as the meat is always cooked first, so that only the time used to bake the crust nicely is required. Little china or metal ramequin cases lined with paste and filled with a dainty ragout make particularly attractive entrees with a minimum of trouble, as any odds and ends can be used for the filling, and any scraps of paste may be used for the pastry, only remember a tiny vent hole must, in every case, be made, and a corresponding tiny rosette of pastry baked with it, to hide it when served.

Where, however, the cook cannot make the paste properly, a baker will always supply the required vol-au-vent, or patty case. But really it is far better to get the cook to make it, as it encourages her to be allowed to make the smart parts of the dinner as well as the more common place portions. While on the subject of substitutes for the homemade dainty, I may mention that nothing surpasses in delicacy one of the croutes, in which pate de foie gras is nowadays so often served, needless to say, after its first contents have been consumed. On one occasion I encountered a pate which looked wonderfully familiar to me, though its contents were not what I expected. Later on my friend confessed to me that, having used the inside of a pork pie for sandwiches, her economic instinct had urged her to utilise the pastry case for her ragout, and I must admit her experiment was completely successful.

Besides these timbales, made with pastry, there are also the so-called timbales, when a plain mould of any shape to taste is thickly buttered, boiled macaroni being then arranged neatly all round to form a kind of casing, which is then filled up with any ragout to taste. The macaroni must be just cooked, but not over-cooked, or it will become pappy with the second cooking; and care must be taken to keep it as unbroken as possible, so that it may lie evenly round and round (like a beehive, for which reason these patties, when small, are often called ruches a la So and So, according to the filling); for this dish usually a rich farce or creme is used as the filling, this being hollowed in the centre (as described for the boudin), and a piece of foie gras, or any rich ragout, placed therein, the whole being then covered in with more farce and the macaroni. Again, timbales are sometimes (abroad especially) lined with polenta or nouilles, and then filled in with financiere, scraps of poultry, cockscombs, brains, etc, as you like.

Needless to say that if the cook is honestly incapable of making these cases you must trust to your baker, or else content yourself with croustades, which latter are by no means to be despised.

For these, cut a slice of bread straight off the loaf about l½in. to 2in. thick, trim this neatly into shape either oblong, round, or square, then mark out a line from ¾in. to lin. inside the outer rim all round, sinking the blade of the knife to two-thirds of the depth of the bread, and fry this bread in plenty of hot fat till of a golden brown; then drain it well, and remove the inner circle or square, trimming off all the underdone, greasy bread inside just as you did for the vol-au-vent, and set it and the cover in the oven to crisp, being careful it does not burn. Fill this with any ragout to taste exactly as you would a pastry case. These croustades can be made any size you please. In many houses, moreover, the fillings used for these timbales are frequently simply packed into fireproof china cases with lids to them, and no pastry or even nouille paste used at all, finishing these cases off just as you would the corresponding timbales. This form of mould takes its name from its shape, which was considered like a kettledrum (timbale) and is straight-sided, the top being rounded like a bowl.

Of late years the timbale mould is made in a border shape, the centre open, and so the name originally always implying a pie of some kind, has come to be applied to creams, and even ices.