Baking powder crust must not stand—the gas which aerates it begins forming and escaping the minute it is wet up. It also requires a hot oven and delicate handling. Half a pound of shortening and a teaspoon of baking powder, to the pound of flour, mixed stiff or soft, according to the consistency of the fat, properly handled and baked, make crust good enough for anybody.

French Puff Paste: This is like the famous little girl—either very good indeed or horrid. Therefore beware undertaking it until you have experience or the confidence of absolute ignorance for your help. Either may take you on to success—when half-knowledge or half-confidence will spell disaster. You need for it, two pounds, thrice sifted flour, two pounds well-washed and very cold butter, four egg-yolks well chilled, and half a pint, more or less, of ice water, also a saltspoon of fine salt. Rub four ounces of butter lightly into the flour, shape the rest into a flattish oblong and set on ice. Wet the flour with the egg-yolks and water, adding them alternately, work smooth, handling as lightly as possible, then roll out half an inch thick, dredge lightly with flour, lay on the ball of cold butter, fold paste over it smoothly, flatten lightly with strokes of the rolling-pin, then roll out as thin as possible without making the butter break through. Fold again in three, roll again, as thin as you can. Repeat folding and rolling, then set on ice half an hour, folding in three. Roll and fold twice again, chill again for twenty minutes, then give two more rolls and foldings. Chill if possible before using. If all things have worked well you will have crust that is an experience.

Every Day Pie Crust: One pound flour, six ounces shortening—lard or clarified dripping, pinch salt, half-pint ice water. Mix flour, salt and water to a smooth dough, using a broad knife, roll out thin, spread with a third of the fat, fold in three, roll out again, add another third of fat, roll, add the last fat, roll again, fold and chill for ten minutes before using.

Cobblers: Make from any sort of fruit in season—peaches, apples, cherries, plums or berries. Green gooseberries are inadvisable, through being too tart and too tedious. Stone cherries, pare peaches or apples and slice thin, halve plums if big enough, and remove stones—if not, wash, drain well, and use whole. Line a skillet or deep pie pan—it must be three inches deep at least, liberally with short crust, rolled rather more than a quarter-inch thick. Fit well, then prick all over with a blunt fork. Fill with the prepared fruit, put on an upper crust a quarter-inch thick and plenty big enough, barely press the crust edges together, prick well with a fork all over the top, and cook in a hot oven half to three-quarters of an hour, according to size. Take up, remove top crust, lay it inverted upon another plate, sweeten the hot fruit liberally, adding if you like, a spoonful of brandy, adding also a good lump of the best butter. Mix well through the fruit, then dip out enough of it to make a thick layer over the top crust. Grate nutmeg over apple pies, or strew on a little powdered cinnamon. A few blades of mace baked with the fruit accent the apple flavor beautifully. Cherries take kindly to brandy, but require less butter than either peaches or apples. Give plums plenty of sugar with something over for the stones. Cook a few stones with them for flavor, even if you take away the bulk. Do the same with cherries, using, say, a dozen pits to the pie.

Serve cobbler hot or cold. If hot, serve with it hard brandy sauce, made by creaming together a cup of sugar, a tablespoonful of butter, then working in two tablespoonfuls of brandy or good whiskey. Right here is perhaps the place to say once for all, good whiskey is far and away better in anything than poor brandy. Thick sweet cream whipped or plain, sets off cold cobbler wonderfully to the average palate.

Fried Pies: To be perfect these must be made of sun-dried peaches, very bright and sweet, but any sort of sound dried fruit will serve at a pinch. Soak overnight after washing in three waters, simmer five hours in the soaking water, with a plate to hold the fruit under, mash and sweeten while hot, adding spices to taste—cinnamon, nutmeg and grated lemon peel for apples, cloves and ginger—a bare zest—for peaches or apricots. Roll out short paste into rounds the size of a small plate, cover one-half with the fruit, fold over the empty half, pinch well together around the edges, and fry in deep fat, blazing hot, to a rich quick brown on both sides. Drain on paper napkins, sprinkling lightly with sugar. Serve hot or cold. Most excellent for impromptu luncheons or very late suppers—withal wholesome. A famous doctor said often of them, "You would be only the better for eating an acre of them."

Green Apple Pie: Take apples a little bigger than the thumb's end, cut off stalks and nibs, and slice crosswise in three, dropping them in water as sliced to save discoloration. Make a rich syrup—three cups sugar, one cup water, to four cups sliced fruit. Boil and skim, throw in the apples, with a blade or so of mace, and cook quickly until preserved through. Either bake between crust in the common way, or bake crust crisp after pricking well, and spread with the preserved fruit. Else make into small turnovers, but bake instead of frying them—and be sure the oven is hot enough to brown, but not to burn. Or you may make the green apples into shortcake, putting fruit only between the layers of crust, and serving with rich sauce or sweetened cream.

Lemon Custard: (M. L. Williams.) Separate and beat very light, the yolks and whites of six eggs. Beat into the yolks very smoothly one pound of sugar, then half a pound of creamed butter. Mix well, then add the beaten whites, followed by the strained juice and grated yellow peel of two large or three small lemons. Beat five minutes longer, pour into pans lined with puff paste, pop into a hot oven and bake to a bright brown. Meringue can be added but is not necessary save for ornament.

Cream Pie: (M. L. Williams.) Beat three eggs very light with a heaping cup of sugar, add two cups sifted flour, mix smooth, then put in half a cup of rich sour cream with half-teaspoon soda dissolved in it. Mix, put instantly into shallow pans, bake in a quick oven and serve hot with or without sauce.

Damson and Banana Tart: (M. W. Watkins.) An heirloom in the relator's family, coming down from English forebears. Line an agate or earthen pie dish two to three inches deep, with very good crust, rolled thin, but not stretched nor dragged. Cover it with bananas, sliced thin, lengthwise, strew over three tablespoonfuls of sugar, and a pinch of grated lemon peel. Sprinkle with a liqueur glass of rum or brandy or whiskey, then put in a layer of preserved plums—damsons are best—along with their juice. If there is room repeat the layers—bananas and plums and seasoning. Cover with a crust rolled fairly thin, prick and bake three-quarters of an hour in a moderately quick oven. Serve either hot or cold, preferably hot, with this sauce. One egg beaten very light, with a cupful of cream, a wineglass of rum, brandy or sherry, and a larger glass of preserve syrup. Mix over hot water, stirring hard all the time till it begins to thicken. It must not get too thick.

Amber Pie: (Mrs. J. R. Oldham.) Beat yolks of four eggs very light, with two heaping cups sugar, large spoonful melted butter, rounding teaspoon sifted flour, cup buttermilk, cup seeded raisins, teaspoon cinnamon, pinch each of cloves, alspice and nutmeg, two whites of egg beaten very stiff. Half bake crust, then pour in batter and cook slowly until done. Cover with meringue made by beating two egg-whites with two teaspoons cold water, a few grains of salt, and one cup sugar. Add sugar gradually after eggs are very light. Use at once—it will fall by standing. Let the meringue barely color in the oven. Serve hot or cold.

Jelly Pie: (Louise Williams.) Beat the yolks of four eggs very light, with a cup of sugar, three-quarters cup creamed butter, and a glass of jelly, the tarter the better. Add a tablespoonful vanilla and a dessert-spoonful of sifted cornmeal, then the whites of eggs beaten very stiff. Bake in crusts—this makes two fat pies. Meringue is optional—and unnecessary.

Cheese Cakes: Beat until very light the yolks of twelve eggs with a pound of sugar, add to them a tablespoonful cornstarch, then three-quarters of a pound of butter, washed and creamed. Add also the strained juice of two lemons, a teaspoonful lemon essence and a teaspoonful vanilla. Set over boiling water and stir until all ingredients blend—only thus can you dissolve granulated sugar, which is best to use, lacking the old-fashioned live open-kettle brown. Keep over the hot water, stirring well together as you fill the tart shells. They must be lined with real puff paste, rolled very thin, and nicely fitted. Set in broad shallow pans, after filling with the batter and bake in a quick, but not scorching oven. A blanched almond, or bit of citron, or half a pecan or walnut meat, may be put in each shell before filling. I prefer though to add such frills by help of the frosting. To make it, beat six egg-whites with a pinch of salt until they stick to the dish, add to them a little at a time, three cups granulated sugar boiled with a cup and a half of water, till it spins a thread. Keep the syrup boiling while adding it. When it is all in, set the pan of frosting over boiling water, add six drops lemon juice and beat until stiff enough to hold shape. It must not touch the water, but have plenty of steam rising underneath. Frost the tarts rather thickly, and stick either a shred of citron, a quarter of Maraschino cherry, or half a nut in the middle. If you like cocoanut flavor, strew freshly grated cocoanut over while the frosting is soft—it ought to harden inside half an hour. Tiny pink or green comfits stuck in the middle, or set in threes triangularly, are very decorative. Indeed, there is no limit but taste and invention to the manners of making beautiful these tarts. I rather pride myself upon them, since they have been enthusiastically praised by folk who have eaten all around the world, and set above the best of French confections by a man ten years resident in Paris, whose wife is held to be the most skilled amateur cook in New York.

Grated cocoanut or raw grated apple stirred into the batter before baking, varies the cheese cakes—and to some palates improves it. I myself find nothing quite to equal the cheese cake of my childhood—which had a full pound of butter to the pound of sugar, and no frills of frosting, though strips of citron were often latticed over the pans after the crust was in. Prick crust always very well before filling—thus the tarts will be shapely instead of caricatures.

Sweet Potato Custard: Boil tender two large or four medium sweet potatoes, peel, free of strings, and mash fine. Add to the pulp half a pound of creamed butter, mix well, then add gradually five cups sugar, alternately with five whole eggs. Beat smooth, add the juice of three lemons, a tablespoonful lemon essence, and a scant pint of very rich milk. Use less milk if the potatoes are very soft. Beat smooth and pour into pie pans lined with good crust. Bake brown in a quick oven, but do not over-bake. Lest the proportion of sugar may seem excessive, let it be said here that sweet potatoes require more sugar for sweetening than anything save crabapples or green gooseberries.

Sweet Potato Pie: Line a deep pie pan with short crust rolled a quarter-inch thick, fill it with raw sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced thin. Add to them, for a pan of medium size, three cups sugar, a cup of butter, cut in bits, mace, cloves and nutmeg to taste, half a cup cold water and half a cup good whiskey or sherry. Cover with a crust an eighth-inch thick, prick well, also cut a tiny cross in middle, and bake in a hot, but not scorching oven, three-quarters of an hour—a full hour if the pan is large. Turning another pan, fitting the rim over, helps to make the baking sure and even. Remove the cover pan ten minutes before taking up. Serve hot. This requires no sauce.

Apple Custard: Beat four eggs very light with three cups sugar, one cup butter, cup and a half rich milk—the richer the better. Stir in at the very last, one quart grated apple, flavor with nutmeg or vanilla, and bake in crusts. If wanted richer, dot raisins seeded and soaked in whiskey, or shred citron over the top before baking.

Molasses Pie: (M. W. Watkins.) Cream well together one large cup granulated sugar, and one heaping tablespoonful of butter, add when very light the well-beaten yolks of three eggs, and a large cup of rich molasses. Flavor with one teaspoonful grated nutmeg, then beat in, at the very last, the whites of the eggs frothed as stiff as possible. Bake in pans lined with rich crust until firm. Meringue can be added, but the pies do not need it.

Mystery Pie: (Louise Williams.) Beat separately very light, the yolks and whites of four eggs. Beat with the yolks a cup and a half of sugar, three heaping tablespoonfuls of butter, two teaspoonfuls mixed spices, either beaten or powdered fine, one cup of tart dark jelly, one cup blackberry jam, and one cup sweet milk. Add last of all the egg-whites, mix in well, then pour in pans lined with rich paste, and bake until firm.

Butter Scotch Pie: (Leslie Fox.) Beat light two egg-yolks with one scant cup dark brown sugar, one tablespoonful creamed butter, and two tablespoonfuls flour. Mix smooth, then add gradually one cup rich milk, put in double boiler, and cook until thick. Let cool, flavor with vanilla, then pour into rich crusts, previously well-baked, cover with meringue made from the egg-whites, set in oven to harden, and serve hot or cold.

Raspberry Cream Pie: (Leslie Fox.) Line a deepish pie pan with very rich crust, spread the crust thickly with red raspberry jam, then pour upon it raw, a custard made from two eggs beaten well with one cup of milk, and one tablespoonful sugar. Bake until custard is well set, let cool, and spread with whipped cream. Serve cold as possible.

Rhubarb Pie: To a generous quart of rhubarb, peeled and cut up, put three cups sugar, the pulp scooped from three sweet oranges, thin bits of the yellow peel, two blades of mace broken small, and a scant half-cup of cold water. Cover the pan and set for thirty minutes in a hot oven—uncover then and cook for five minutes longer. The result is a sweet excellent for many uses—as a sauce, as a substitute for marmalade, as the foundation of pies, tarts, shortcakes, even as a filling for layer cake.

Make pies from it with two crusts, or with lattice crusts as usual. Make it into tarts, into turnovers or put between hot buttered layers for a hurry-up shortcake. But if you wish to know how excellent such rhubarb can be, make it thus into meringue pies or tarts. Bake the crusts after pricking them well, cover thinly with either good meringue or the frosting directed for cheesecakes, let it harden, then at the minute of serving cover with a thin layer of the prepared rhubarb—the meringue or frosting will stay crisp until eaten if you work quickly enough. Young unpeeled tender rhubarb gives a pink sauce—older stalks peeled furnish a translucent green. Either is sufficiently decorative. They can be made more so, if the tarts they appear on, have a cherry or preserved strawberry dropped in the middle of them.

Banana Pie: Line a deepish earthen pie dish with thin, very good crust, fill it three parts with bananas, sliced crosswise very thin. Cover them thickly with sugar, add the strained juice of a large lemon, dot with bits of butter, put on a lattice crust, and bake in a quick oven twenty-five minutes.

Banana Pudding: Slice very thin, crosswise, three medium size bananas, sprinkle thickly with sugar, then add to a batter made by beating up four egg-yolks and two whites, with one cup crumbled rich stale cake, half-cup sugar, cup very rich milk, and the juice of a large lemon. Mix smooth, pour into a deep pudding dish, and bake in a quick oven, then cover with meringue made from the egg-whites left out, beaten up with a small pinch of salt, two teaspoons cold water, and six tablespoonfuls of sugar. Return to the oven and let barely color. Serve hot or cold.

Sweet Potato Pudding: Beat four eggs very light with four cups sugar and one cup creamed butter. Add a cupful of very rich milk, mix smooth, then add one pint of raw grated sweet potato. Mix well, pour into a deep earthen dish and set in hot oven. As soon as a brown crust forms on top, stir it down. Repeat this three times at least. Serve hot, with either wine sauce or a rich sugar and butter sauce, flavored with lemon. It is best not to flavor the pudding proper, so one may get undiminished the zest of the brown crust stirred through it.

Poor Man's Pudding: Take for each person to be served, a fresh egg, a tablespoonful sifted flour, and half a cup very rich milk. Add a pinch of salt for each six eggs. Separate the eggs, beating yolks and whites very light. Mix yolks gradually with the flour and milk, taking care to have no lumps. Fold in the stiffly beaten whites at the very last—if the batter is too thick add a little more milk. Pour into a deep pan, and bake in a quick oven. It must be taken up the moment it is done or it will fall, and be ruined. Serve immediately, with a sauce made by working together over hot water three cups sugar, one cup butter, half a cup boiling water, cup fruit juice, wine or whiskey, with any flavoring approved. The sauce cannot be made too rich, the pudding should be a pale clear yellow, as light as a puff, and cutting easily with a spoon. It is not "true to name" in these days of costly eggs, but deserved it in the pioneer epoch which originated it.

Boiled Batter Pudding: Make the same batter as above, only putting in a teaspoonful baking powder. Stir well through it three cups seeded raisins, wet in whiskey and very well floured. Tie up in a newly-scalded floured pudding bag, pop in a kettle of boiling water, keep it full, with more boiling water, and cook from an hour to an hour and a half, according to size. Serve very hot with plenty of very rich sweet sauce highly flavored, and be sure to warm your knife or spoon before cutting into the pudding.

Apple Pudding: (M. W. Watkins.) Core and peel half a dozen tart apples, slice crosswise, put the slices in layers in a deep dish with plenty of sugar, butter in reason, cinnamon and a very little water. Pour over a batter made thus: one egg beaten light with half a cup sugar, butter the size of a walnut, half a cup milk, pinch of salt, flour enough to make thick enough for layer cake, with a teaspoonful baking powder sifted through. Spread batter smooth, dot with bits of butter on top, and bake in a brisk, but not scorching oven, half an hour or longer if needed—the apples must be thoroughly cooked. Serve hot or cold—preferably hot, with hard sauce or wine sauce.

Apple Dumplings: Pare and core half a dozen tart apples, stick three cloves in each, fill the core-spaces full of very sweet hard sauce, stick a sliver of mace in the sauce, then set each apple on a round of good short paste, and work the paste up over it, joining the edges neat and trig. Set close in a pan just big enough, pour around a half cup of sugar melted in a cup of water with a little butter and lemon juice. Cover the pan and cook quickly until done—then uncover, brown, take up and serve piping hot with a very rich hard sauce.

Crumb Pudding: (Anne McVay.) Soak a cup of dry grated bread crumbs in half a pint of milk until soft, add then the well-beaten yolks of two eggs, half a cup sugar, tablespoonful butter, and another half-pint milk. Flavor with lemon, vanilla or brandy, as preferred. Bake until firm in a quick, but not scorching hot oven, cover with meringue made from the egg-whites and half a cup of sugar. Barely color the meringue. Let cool, and serve with either whipped or sweetened cream, or a fruit sauce. Good without any sauce.

Blackberry Mush: (Leslie Fox.) Wash after picking a quart of fresh, very ripe blackberries, put them on with barely enough water to save from burning, bring to a good boil, and skim clean, then add gradually almost two pounds of flour, or cornstarch well wet with cold water, also sugar to taste. Cook, stirring often till the mass looks thick and glossy, pour into your pudding dish, let cool, chill thoroughly, and serve with cream either plain, or whipped, or sweetened.

Peach Pudding: Beat light one egg, with half a cup sugar, two tablespoonfuls melted butter, three-quarters cup flour, one cup sour cream, one teaspoon soda dissolved in one teaspoonful cold water, and two cups very ripe peaches, peeled and sliced thin. Bake quickly and serve when very hot with a rich hard or a wine sauce.

Ginger Pudding: Beat three eggs very light with two cups sugar, a large cup rich black molasses, three-quarters cup butter, creamed, tablespoon ginger beaten fine. Half a cup rich sour cream, half a cup boiling water with teaspoon soda dissolved in it, add flour enough to make a thickish batter, pour into deep greased pan, and bake quickly. Serve hot with rich sauce that is flavored with some orange juice and peel.

Nesselrode Pudding: (Mrs. H. Barker.) Boil together three cups sugar, one cup water until the syrup ropes. Beat it boiling hot into the yolks of six eggs previously beaten very light. Fold in the stiffly beaten whites, then add box Cox's gelatine dissolved in warm water, one cup raisins, seeded, steamed and soaked in sherry or whiskey, one cup of nuts rolled small, else one cup of crumbled macaroons, or a cup of both mixed. Finish with enough thick cream to make a full gallon, pack in salt and ice, freeze and let stand long enough to ripen.

Thanksgiving Pudding: (Mrs. J. O. Cook.) Beat light the yolks of four eggs with one cup sugar, two tablespoonfuls creamed butter, and one cup of stale cake crumbs, soaked in eight tablespoonfuls whiskey. Mix well, then add one cup raisins, seeded and floured, one cup nut meats, cut small. Beat smooth and bake until set, then cover with meringue. Serve with whipped cream or any sauce preferred. Milk can take the place of whiskey, and preserves replace raisins.

Real Christmas Pudding: Toast a pint of fine breadcrumbs to a good brown without burning, pour on them half a cup of strong, clear black coffee, and let stand till soft.

Beat six egg-yolks very light with two cups of yellow sugar and one of creamed butter, add the soaked crumbs and mix very smooth. Meantime, soak a cup of raisins, seeded and halved, a cup of clean currants, a cup of shredded citron, a cup of nut meats broken small, in a tumbler of sherry, a tumbler of rum, and wineglass of apricot brandy. Add the fruit when well soaked to the eggs and sugar, putting in any surplus liquors. Mix in gradually a teaspoonful of cinnamon, the same of cloves and allspice, half a cup of preserved ginger sliced very thin, and a very tiny dusting of black pepper and paprika. Beat smooth, then fold in the stiffly beaten egg-whites alternately with a cup of browned flour. If too thick to stir handily thin with a little milk or boiling water. Pour into a clean pudding bag, freshly scalded, leaving room for the pudding to swell, put in a deep kettle of boiling water, and boil for five hours, filling up the kettle as needed with boiling water so as not to check the cooking. Make several days beforehand, and boil an extra hour upon Christmas day. Serve in a blaze of brandy, with a very rich sauce, either fruit or wine flavored.

Pudding Sauce: (Mrs. Barbara Clayton.) Beat together until very light, one cup white sugar, one cup creamed butter, and the yolks of three eggs. Beat the egg whites very stiff with another cup of sugar, add to the yolks and butter, beat hard together, then put in double boiler and cook until thick. Put two wineglasses of good whiskey in a bowl, pour the hot sauce upon it, and whip hard until light.



Exotics rarely flower in native splendor after transplanting. Milly was the exception, proving the rule. Bred in New Orleans, steeped in its atmosphere, its traditions, a cook of degree, and daughter of a cook to whom, though past middle age, she paid the most reverent homage, she yet kept her magic touch amid the crush and hurly-burly of New York town, albeit she never grew acclimated nor even content. This in spite of a mistress she adored—in virtue of having served her ten years down in the home city. When at last Milly went back to her own, there was wailing amongst all of us, who had eaten her cooking, but the mistress smiled, rather sadly, to be sure, saying: "I could not beg her to stay—she was so unhappy here."

Milly never had quite a free hand—New York markets know not many things familiar to those of the Crescent City. Notwithstanding, she was a liberal education in blended flavors, in the delights, the surprises of the Creole kitchen. Tall and slim, of a golden-brown complexion, neat to the point of austerity, trim and self-contained, sight of her somehow gave an added piquancy to her dishes. She did not make friends readily, but the comradery of cooking induced her to more than tolerate me. "I don't say I kin cook—but my mother can," she often told me—smiling proudly the while, with the buzzing praises of gourmets sounding in her ears. She could never tell you how she made her ambrosial dishes—but if you had my luck to be persona gratis she could and did show you, to the queen's taste.

I shall write only whereof I know—not by any means a compend of Creole cookery. Indeed, a lifetime is hardly enough to eat of all its specially excellent dishes. It seems to me from this scant experience, one general principle runs through all. It is the blending of proportioned flavors, achieved through long and gentle cooking. Milly said she let things "sob," a mistake I dare say, for the old-time "sod," past participle of "seethe." But I by no means speak with authority—my deduction is from the premise of fifty dinners, each it seemed to me uniquely excellent. After this prelude come we to specific recipes.

Court Bouillon: (Pronounced "Coubare.") Milly sighed for Redfish or Red Snapper but made shift with halibut or any other firm fine-grained fish perfectly fresh. Take three pounds of it, wash very clean, and cut in six equal slices with a very sharp knife. There must be no rags and tatters. Melt a heaping tablespoonful of lard in a deep kettle, add to it gradually two tablespoonfuls flour, stirring hard so it shall not burn. Throw into it a dozen pounded alspice, three sprigs each of thyme, parsley, bay leaf and sweet marjoram chopped fine, one small clove of garlic, one large onion also chopped fine, and either six large fresh tomatoes, chopped small, or half a can—those from glass are best. Pour in a large glass of claret, add a quart of boiling water, and bring all to a very brisk boil. Cook for five minutes, then add salt and Cayenne pepper to taste. Boil five minutes longer, then lay in the fish slices one at a time, following them with the strained juice of a lemon. Boil hard twenty minutes longer. Serve hot.

To make Court Bouillon a la Espagnole, stir together as above, lard and flour, taking care to have them smooth, add a large onion, six tomatoes, clove of garlic, sprigs of sweet basil and thyme, all chopped fine, along with two whole bay leaves. Brown all nicely, taking care not to burn, then add a quart of boiling water, bring to a boil and cook two or three minutes. Have six thick slices of fine, firm fresh fish, rub them well over with salt and pepper, lay in a dish and pour over a large cup of white wine boiling hot. Vinegar answers, but wine is better. Lay the fish slices in the pot, handling carefully, add the wine, and simmer until tender—about half an hour commonly. Take up carefully so as not to break, lay in a deepish dish, remove bay leaves from the gravy and pour over the fish. Finish with a garnish of sliced lemon, and serve with either boiled rice or whole boiled potatoes.

Bouillabaisse: While time endures New Orleans will plume itself upon this dish which drew from Thackeray a world-famous tribute. "In New Orleans you can eat a Bouillabaisse, the like of which was never eaten in Marseilles or Paris." Which is much, very much, from the laureate of Bouillabaisse, as native to Marseilles. The reason of superiority is not far to seek—it lies in the excellence and flavor of the fish native to the Gulf of Mexico. Lacking Pompano, Red Snapper, and Redfish, even Milly could not quite do her knowledge justice. But she made shift with what the market offered, choosing generally halibut, with fresh cod, or bluefish, or sea trout. Two kinds of fish in equal quantity are imperative. The better, finer and firmer the fish, the better the Bouillabaisse. Cut each sort in six equal slices, saving trimmings, heads, etc. Boil them in three pints of water, with a sliced onion, and a bouquet of herbs, until reduced to one pint. Remove fish-heads and herbs, then strain the stock, and set aside until needed. Meantime rub the fish over very well with salt and pepper, then with a mixture made by mincing very fine three bay leaves, three sprigs each of thyme and parsley, three cloves of garlic, and six allspice pounded to powder. Rub the mixture in well and thoroughly—here is the key to success. The seasoning must go through and through the fish. Put into a very wide pan, two tablespoonfuls of olive oil, heat it gently, add two mild onions, chopped and let them cook a little without browning. Now lay in the fish, slice by slice, so one slice does not touch another, cover the pan, and let the slices smother for about ten minutes, turning them once, so as to cook each side partly. Take up, lay separately in a large dish, pour half a bottle of white wine into the pan, and stir hard. Add six large, fresh tomatoes, sliced very thin, let boil a few minutes, then half a lemon, also in very thin slices, and a pint of the fish stock strained. Season well, with salt, pepper, and Cayenne—here the palate is guide. Boil all together until reduced almost one half, then lay in the fish slices, taking care they do not touch, and boil briskly for five minutes. While the boiling goes on, chop fine a pinch of saffron, put it in a small, deep dish, and mix smooth with a spoonful of the boiling liquor. Dissolve the saffron very well, and when the fish has cooked its allotted five minutes, spread the saffron on top of the fish. Fry in butter as many slices of toast as you have slices of fish—lay the fish on the toast, pour the sauce over it, and serve immediately, very hot.

Shrimps: The secret of cooking shrimps is to boil them properly—that is to say in very salt water, almost brine. They take up salt only in the boiling, and not so much then. To five quarts of very salt water add a large bunch of celery, chopped, roots, leaves and all, two dozen allspice, one dozen cloves, two blades of mace, a bouquet of herbs chopped small, a pod of red pepper, and a seasoning of Cayenne. Boil until the strength of herbs and seasoning is extracted, then throw in a hundred shrimps—river shrimps are best—let boil hard ten minutes, take from fire and allow the shrimps to cool in the brine. Serve as a relish before dinner, on a bed of cracked ice, with a garnish of parsley.

Baked Shrimp: Cut the eyes from a dozen large, meaty tomatoes, scoop out the pulp, leaving the shells whole, then mix it with one hundred shrimps boiled as directed and picked from their shells, one cup grated bread crumbs or fine cracker crumbs, and one heaping tablespoon of butter. Stew all together, seasoning with pepper and salt, fill the tomato shells with the mixture, sift fine crumbs on top, dot with butter, put in a pan, with a very little hot water in the bottom, and bake until done in a quick but not scorching oven.

Shrimp Pie: Boil and pick from shells one hundred shrimps, mix well with two large slices stale bread free of crust, moistened with two glasses white wine, and highly seasoned with salt, pepper, Cayenne, nutmeg, mace, chopped thyme and parsley. Crisp the bread crusts, and grate over the mixture after it is packed in a deep dish. Dot well with butter, and bake in a hot oven. Serve with a sauce made by cooking together a pint of boiled shrimps, a tablespoonful of butter, five chopped tomatoes, a little celery, thyme, parsley and bay leaf, also chopped. Cook three to four minutes, then add half a pint of oyster liquor, boil up, and serve very hot.

Shrimp Salad: Boil, and pick from shells—if large cut in half, otherwise leave whole. Season well with salt and pepper, then mix well with crisp celery, chopped fine with a very little onion. Heap in salad dish, cover with a good mayonnaise, and garnish with sliced hard-boiled eggs, sliced lemon, sliced beets, and celery tips.

Fried Soft-Shell Crabs: Wash always in cold water—hot water spoils the flavor. Remove all sand, also the sand-bag between the eyes, the apron, and the spongy growths under the side points. Rinse well again in cold water, and dry thoroughly with a clean towel. Season a pint of rich milk well with pepper and salt. Season the crabs also, lay them in the milk, rubbing them so that it may impregnate them throughout. Take out, roll in sifted flour, patting lightly as you roll, then shaking free of loose flour. Have deep fat, very hot—it must be deep enough to swim the crabs. Drop them in gently, fry to a delicate brown, skim out, drain on hot spongy paper, and serve garnished with fried parsley, and sliced lemon. Serve with Tartare sauce.

Daube: Otherwise Beef a la Mode: Take five pounds good lean beef, rump or top round, and lard it with a quarter pound salt pork or fat bacon, cut in thin strips and season highly with salt, pepper, onion, garlic, thyme, parsley, and bay leaves, all minced fine. Crowd in the seasoning as well as the larding strips. Make the cuts for larding three to four inches long. Cut two large, mild onions in quarters, and put into a deep saucepan with a tablespoonful of lard, let them brown well, then lay upon them the larded beef, cover, and let simmer very slowly till well browned. When browned add five carrots and two turnips cut into inch-squares, and two more onions chopped fine. Keep covered tight, and simmer for ten minutes, then turn over the meat, and brown the other side—it will take about ten minutes more. Then cover the meat with boiling water, or weak stock, add a glass of sherry or Madeira, or even claret, season with salt, black pepper, and Cayenne to taste, then cover the pot tight, set it where it will barely simmer and let smother for three hours. The meat should be very tender. Serve hot or cold.

Cold Daube a la Creole: Lard, season, and cook, three pounds of rump or round as above directed, but keep it simmering four hours instead of three. Put into a deep dish rather large and pour over it a sauce made thus: Put a two-pound veal steak and two well-cleaned pigsfeet, in a pot with, four quarts of water, after seasoning them well with salt, pepper and Cayenne. Add half a clove garlic, bay leaf, sprig thyme, one onion, all minced fine, also two cloves pounded, and a glass of sherry or Madeira. Keep boiling till the meat falls from the bones—take up then, remove bones, mince the meat fine, season it highly and return to the liquor, stirring it well through. Pour over the beef, let stand uncovered in a very cool place to harden. Serve in very thin slices—it will be like jelly. This is a cold-weather dish, as even an ice-box will not harden the sauce properly in summer.

Grillades with Gravy: Flatten by beating a good round steak, and cut into four-inch-squares. Season the squares highly with salt, pepper, and Cayenne. Put a heaping tablespoon of lard in a frying pan—as it melts, add a chopped onion, a clove of garlic also chopped, and as these brown, one tablespoonful of flour, stirring all smooth. Next add two sliced tomatoes with their juice—when they brown, lay the grillades upon them. Cover close, let them brown on one side, then turn and brown the other. Then add half a tablespoonful of vinegar, and a cup of water. Stir well, then set where it will simmer for half an hour. Fine for breakfast with hominy or rice.

Another way is to cook the grillades without garlic, and add to them along with the tomatoes half a pint of tender okra well washed and sliced. Or they can be fried brown, in clear fat, then put in a hot dish over boiling water while a gravy is made of fresh fat, heated very hot, and stirred about the pan to take up the brown meat essence, a chopped onion, two sliced tomatoes, a tablespoonful flour, as much vinegar and water. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and Cayenne, boil ten to twelve minutes and pour over the grillades.

Chicken Saute a la Creole: Clean, singe and cut in joints two spring chickens, dividing the breasts lengthwise, and cutting drumsticks from thighs. Season well with salt and pepper. Melt in a frying pan two large tablespoonfuls butter, add the chicken, and let it brown slowly for five minutes. Have three large onions sliced thin—add them and let brown but take care not to scorch in the least. Dredge in two tablespoonfuls flour, and let it brown. Then put in half a dozen large tomatoes peeled and sliced, let them brown but cook slowly, letting the pan barely simmer. Add chopped parsley, thyme and bay leaf, also two cloves of garlic finely minced, and if you have them, half a dozen sweet green peppers, freed of seed and cut in shreds. Stir well, cover and let smother for twenty minutes, stirring now and then, but keeping the pan covered. Add a cup of consomme if in hand, otherwise a cup of boiling water, cook very slowly a full half hour, seasoning to taste. After seasoning, cook ten minutes longer. Serve very hot.

Roasted Quail: Take six quail, fat, fresh and tender, pick, draw, singe, and wipe with a damp cloth inside and out. Butter inside, and sprinkle with salt and pepper lightly. Butter all over the outside, truss, and bind around with a thin slice of fat bacon. Put a tablespoonful of butter in the roasting pan, fit in the quail, and roast in a hot oven twenty to thirty minutes, according to size. Put six slices of hot buttered toast in a hot dish, and lay a quail on each. Add half a spoonful of butter, a little boiling water, and the juice of a lemon to the gravy in the pan, cook three to four minutes, stirring well, strain, set back on stove to cook two minutes longer, then pour evenly upon the breasts of the birds so it will soak in the toast. Garnish with sliced lemon and watercress, and serve with green grape jelly. If grape leaves are to be had, wrap the birds in them instead of bacon, after preparing as directed, roast, take up on toast, garnish with fresh young grape leaves, and serve with either spiced grapes or grape jelly.

Creole French Dressing: Put three tablespoonfuls of olive oil in a deep, small bowl, add to it a saltspoon salt and half one of pepper—more if taste approves. Add alternately drop by drop, a teaspoonful of made mustard, and a tablespoonful vinegar. When well mixed, add the yolk of a hard-boiled egg, mashed very smooth, and stir until blended. Serve with lettuce, celery or potato salad.

Mayonnaise Dressing: Chill a small bowl, also a fresh egg, and your salad oil. Put the yolk of the egg in the bowl—which if it is summer, should sit in cracked ice. Add drop by drop chilled oil, working it in as you drop it. When you have added a spoonful begin dropping in lemon juice, working it likewise into the yolk. It will harden the egg—stir till very hard, then add more oil, drop by drop, working it in with a fork. Repeat, until you have used the juice of half a lemon, and two gills of oil. When the egg begins to curdle add salt and pepper to taste—but do not put them in until the last. Keep and serve very cold.

Remoulade Dressing: Put three hard boiled egg-yolks into a bowl, mash smooth, add to them half a teaspoonful made mustard, one tablespoonful Tarragon vinegar, with salt and Cayenne to taste. Next add, drop by drop, three tablespoonfuls olive oil, after which put in the yolk of a raw egg, and stir until light. Finish with the juice of half a lemon, added very gradually. Much depends on the mixing—if hurried or carelessly done, the sauce will curdle. This is standard for cold meat of every sort, also heavy salads, and fish.

Drip Coffee: Two things are essential—an absolutely clean urn, and sound coffee, freshly parched, and ground neither too fine nor too coarse. The water must be freshly boiled. Put a cup of ground coffee in the strainer, pour upon it about two tablespoonfuls of boiling water, let it stand until the water drips through and there is no more bubbling, then pour on more water, but not too much, let it drip, keeping both the strainer and the spout covered to prevent the loss of aroma. Repeat until you have used almost five cups of water—this for four cups of strained coffee, as the grounds hold part of the water. Keep the pot hot while the dripping goes on, but never where the coffee will boil. If it dyes the cups it is too strong, but beware of making too weak.

Bruleau: Put into the special bruleau bowl, which has its own brandy ladle, three ladlefuls of brandy, along with the yellow peel of half an orange, a dozen cloves, a stick of cinnamon, a few grains of alspice and six lumps of sugar. Let stand several hours to extract the essential oils. At serving time put in an extra ladleful of brandy for every person to be served, and two lumps of domino sugar. Pour alcohol in the tray underneath the bowl, light it, and stir the brandy back and forth until it also catches from the flame below. Let burn two or three minutes—if the lights have been extinguished as they should be, the effect is beautifully spectral. After the three minutes pour in strong, hot, clear, black coffee, a small cupful for each person, keep stirring until the flame dies out, then serve literally blazing hot. This "burnt water" known in more sophisticated regions as Cafe Diabolique, originated in New Orleans, and is the consummate flowering of Creole cookery.



The very queen among cake makers sums her secret of success in a sentence: "The best of everything." Cake will never be better than the things whereof it is made, no matter how skilled the maker. But it can be, and too often is, dismally worse, thus involving a waste of heaven's good gifts of sugar, butter, eggs, flour and flavors. Having the best at hand, use it well. Isaac Walton's direction for the bait, "Use them as though you loved them," applies here as many otherwheres. Unless you love cake-making, not perhaps the work, but the results, you will never excell greatly in the fine art. Better buy your cake, or hire the making thereof, else swap work with some other person better gifted in this special branch.

Here are a few cardinal helps. Have the eggs very cold, butter soft but not oily, flour dry and light—sun or oven-dry it in muggy weather. Sift it three times for ordinary cakes, twice for tea cakes, and so on, four to five times for very light things, sponge cake, angel's food, and measure it before sifting, and don't forget the needed amount—then you will be in no danger of putting in too much or too little. Always put a pinch of fine salt in the bottom of the mixing bowl, which ought to be freshly scalded and wiped very dry. A damp bowl clogs with either sugar or flour, making the stirring much harder. Unless specifically directed otherwise, separate the eggs, set the whites on ice till time to whip them, beat the yolks very, very light—to a pale, frothy yellow, add the sugar, free of lumps, a cupful at a time, then the butter washed and beaten to a creamy froth, beat hard together for five minutes, then add alternately the flour and the egg-whites beaten to the stiffest possible froth. Add a pinch of salt as beating begins, and if the egg supply is scant, a teaspoonful of cold water to each white. This will increase the quantity, and help to make the cake lighter, as it is the air-bubbles imprisoned in the froth which give it its raising virtue. Add fruit and flavoring last thing. Fruit should be well floured but never clotted. If batter appears to be too stiff a little whiskey thins it excellently, and helps to make it lighter. Put in two tablespoonfuls to six eggs, using more in proportion. Rose water or a liqueur have the same effect but give their own flavor—which whiskey does not.

If strong butter needs must be used, it can be mitigated to a degree, by washing and kneading well in cold water barely dashed with chloride of lime solution, then rinsing well in cold water, and afterward in sweet milk. The milk may be half water. Rinse it out clean. Let the butter soften well before undertaking to cream it. A stout, blunt wooden spoon is the best for creaming, along with a deep bowl very narrow at the bottom. Grease deep cake tins plentifully, with either lard or butter—using only the best. For heavy cakes such as fruit, spice and marble cake, line them with double thicknesses of buttered paper and either set shallow pans of water in the oven while baking or stand the pans themselves in other pans with a quarter inch of water in the bottoms. If cakes brown too fast, open the oven door, a trifle, and lay over the pan a thick, well buttered paper until the oven cools. Never jar the oven while cake is baking in it—neither by banging the doors, nor dumping heavy vessels on top of it. Beware likewise slamming kitchen doors, or bumping things about in the room. Fine cake demands as many virtues of omission as of commission. Indeed the don'ts are as essential as the doings.

Layer cakes need to be mixed thinner than deep ones. The batter must run freely. Half fill the tins and set in a hot oven, taking care not to scorch before rising is finished. Butter tins very freely—it is economy in the end. Be sure the tins sit level in the oven—thus you escape an ungainly final loaf. Get filling ready as baking goes forward so as to put your layers together while still warm and pliable. Let cool before frosting, so as to trim sides smooth. Take care fillings are not too watery, also that they are mixed smooth. Spread evenly, and press down a layer firmly all over, before putting filling on top. Layers simplify greatly the problem of baking, but to my mind, no layer cake, not even the famous Lady Baltimore, is equal to a fine deep loaf, well frosted, and meltingly rich throughout.

Pound Cake: (Aunt Polly Rives) Take ten fresh eggs, their weight in fresh butter, white sugar, and thrice sifted flour. Separate the eggs, beat yolks to a cream-yellow, add the sugar, cupful at a time, beat hard, then the butter creamed to a froth, then half the flour, then two wineglasses of whiskey or brandy or good sherry or rose water, beat hard five minutes, then add the rest of the flour, taking care not to pack it in the handling. Beat fifteen minutes longer, then fold in with long strokes, the egg-whites beaten with a good pinch of salt until they stick to the dish. Barely mix them through the batter, then pour it into deep pans, or ovens, lined with double greased papers. The vessels also must be well buttered. Bake with quick heat, letting the cake rise well before browning. Slack heat when it is a very light brown, and cook until a straw thrust to the bottom comes out clean. Turn out upon a thick, folded cloth, cover with another thinner cloth, and let cool. Frost when cool, either with the boiled frosting directed for cheesecakes (See Chapter on Paste, Pies and Puddings) or with plain frosting made thus. Beat three egg-whites well chilled to the stiffest possible froth with a pinch of salt, and a very little cold water. Add to them gradually when thus beaten a pound of sugar sifted with a teaspoonful of cream of tartar. Mix very smooth, and apply with a broad-bladed knife, dipping it now and then in cold water to keep the frosting smooth. It should dry a quarter-inch thick and be delicious eating. Frosted cake keeps fresh three times as long as that left naked.

Spice Cake: Cream a coffee cup of well washed butter, with two cups yellow sugar and one cup black molasses. Add to it one after the other, seven egg-yolks, beating hard between. When all are in, add one tablespoonful whiskey, or brandy, one teaspoonful grated chocolate, teaspoonful each of powdered cloves, allspice, ginger, mace, and cinnamon, a grated nutmeg, and half a saltspoonful of powdered black pepper. Add also a pinch of salt, and the barest dusting of paprika. If whiskey is for any reason disapproved, use strong, clear coffee instead, putting in two spoonfuls, and leaving out the chocolate. Beat all together hard for ten minutes, then add four scant cups flour browned in the oven but not burned. Sift after browning, adding to it two teaspoonfuls baking powder. Beat hard five minutes after the flour is all in, then pour in a deep, well greased pan, lined with buttered paper, let rise ten minutes with the oven door open, then bake in quick heat until done through.

Marble Cake: Make up egg-yolks into spice cake, beat the whites very light, and add them to three cups of sifted sugar, beaten smooth in a large cup of creamed butter. Put in a wineglass of whiskey or brandy, then add three cups and a half flour sifted three times with a heaping teaspoonful baking powder. Put the light and dark batter by alternate spoonfuls in pans well buttered and papered, let rise and bake the same as spice cake. Else bake the light and dark batter in layers, put together with any good filling, and frost with caramel frosting.

Real Gold Cake: Beat very light the yolks of sixteen eggs, with a full pound of yellow sugar, and a scant pound of creamed butter. Add a cup of rich sour cream with a teaspoonful soda dissolved in it. Or if you like better put in the cream solus, and add the soda dissolved in a teaspoonful of boiling water at the very last. This makes lighter cake so is worth the extra trouble. Flavor to taste—grated lemon rind is good. Add gradually four cups flour sifted three times at least. Beat hard for ten minutes, then bake in well-greased pans, lined with buttered paper, until well done, let cool partly in the pans, then turn out, dust lightly with flour or corn starch and frost.

Real Silver Cake: Wash and cream to a froth a pound of fresh butter, work into it a pound of sifted sugar, and a pound of flour, sifted thrice with a teaspoonful of baking powder. Add flavoring—vanilla, lemon or rose water, following it with a wineglass of whiskey. Then fold in the whites of sixteen eggs beaten with a pinch of salt to the stiffest possible froth. If the batter looks too thick add half a cup sweet cream—this will depend on the size of the eggs and the dryness of the flour. Bake in deep pans, else in layers. By baking gold and silver batter in layers, and alternating them you can have a fine marble cake. Or by coloring half the white batter pink with vegetable color to be had from any confectioner, you can have rose-marble cake. This should be iced with pink frosting else with plain white, then dotted over with pink. Very decorative for birthday parties or afternoon teas.

Christmas Cake: Prepare fruit first. Cut small half a pound of homemade citron drained from syrup, wash and seed one pound raisins, pick, wash and dry one pound currants, mince a teacup of any firm preserve—quince, peach or pear, or use a cupful of preserved cherries whole. Shred fine four ounces of homemade candied peel, also four ounces of preserved ginger, add a cupful of nutmeats—pecans or English walnuts, or even scalybarks, cutting them in bits, mix all well together, then pour upon them the strained juice of three oranges, and three lemons, also add the grated yellow peel. Next pour on half a pint of whiskey, a gill of rum, and a tumbler of cordial—peach or blackberry, and homemade if possible. Let stand overnight, in a warm place—the fruit should take up the most part of the liquor. A glass of tart jelly is held an improvement by some. I do not put it in—the preserves suit my palate better. Cream a full pound of butter with four cups sifted sugar, beat into it one at a time, ten large fresh eggs. After them put in four cups dried and sifted flour, mix smooth, then put in the fruit, drained from the liquor and lightly dredged with hot, sifted flour. Mix well, then add the liquor drained from the fruit, along with a tablespoonful of lemon essence, and as much vanilla or rose water. If the batter is too stiff to stir well, thin with either a little sweet cream or boiling water, or cordial. Pour into pans buttered and lined with five thicknesses of buttered paper, set the pans in other pans of hot water inside a warm but not brisk oven, shield the tops with double paper, and let rise half an hour. Increase heat then, but the baking must be slow. Four to five hours is required, according to the size of pans. Keep covered until the last half hour—then the heat may be sensibly increased. Test with straws—when they come out clean, take up, set pans on racks, cover with thick cloth and let cool thoroughly. Frost next day, with either plain or boiled frosting. By baking the cake in rather small square molds, set close in a larger pan, the squares can be cut without waste and frosted to make individual cakes.

White Layer Cake: (Mrs. George H. Patch.) Sift two teaspoonfuls baking powder through three and a half cups flour, measured before sifting. Cream a cup of butter with two and one half cups sugar, add a cup of rich milk, beat hard, then add gradually the flour, following it with the whites of seven eggs beaten very stiff with a small pinch of salt. Fold in lightly, and bake in three layers. Put together with orange filling, or frosting made thick with nuts and minced figs.

German Coffee Cake: (Mrs. T. G. Petre.) Beat six fresh eggs very light with one pound of sugar, and one pound flour. Add the peel of a lemon grated, and one yeast cake dissolved in a little hot milk or water. Let stand till very light, then roll into sheets one inch thick, spread them thickly with melted butter—half a pound will be required, sprinkle with two ounces bitter almonds blanched and shredded fine, mixed with four ounces sugar, and a teaspoonful powdered cinnamon. Let rise again, and bake in a moderate oven. Good hot or cold.

Cream Cake: (Betsy Vaughn.) Cream together very light two cups butter, three cups sugar, one cup sweet cream. Add gradually four cups flour sifted with one teaspoonful baking powder, then fold in the whites of fourteen eggs beaten very stiff with a pinch of salt. Flavor with bitter almonds, bake in loaves or layers, and frost with pink icing, flavored with rose water.

Sponge Cake: Beat very light the yolks of seven eggs with three cups sifted sugar, and a pinch of salt. Add to them gradually a cup of hot water, then three scant cups flour sifted thrice with two teaspoonfuls baking powder. Fold in last the stiffly beaten white of the eggs, pour into greased pans, and bake in a quick oven. The batter must not be too thin. If the eggs are large only half a cup of water may be requisite. Flavor with vanilla, putting orange or lemon in the frosting.

White Sponge Cake: Beat very stiff six egg-whites, add to them gradually a cup of sugar, and a cup of flour sifted twice with a teaspoonful of baking powder. Do not forget a tiny pinch of salt in the eggs.

Angel's Food: Beat to a stiff froth with a pinch of salt, the whites of eleven eggs. Mix in gradually a cup and a half of powdered sugar, then add a cup of flour sifted twice with a teaspoonful cream of tartar. Mix smooth, add the strained juice of half a lemon, pour into a smooth, ungreased pan, bake in a moderate oven half an hour, take up, turn pan upside down on a cloth and let stand till the cake falls out.

Chocolate Cake: Sift together two cups flour, one cup corn starch, and two teaspoonfuls baking powder, add to a cup of butter, creamed light with two cups sugar and one cup sweet cream. Add the stiffly beaten whites of seven eggs, flavor with vanilla, and bake in layers. For the filling boil together to a thick syrup, three cups sugar, one cup water, and half a cake of grated chocolate. Pour upon three egg-whites beaten very stiff, flavor with vanilla or bitter almond, and spread between layers.

Orange Cake: Cream a cup of butter with two cups sugar, beat into it a cup of cold water, then add four cups flour thrice sifted with two teaspoonfuls baking powder, alternate the flour with three well-beaten eggs. Flavor to taste, bake in layers, and put together with orange frosting made thus. Cook together till it threads the strained juice, and grated yellow peel of a large sweet orange with one cup sugar, then beat the hot syrup into two egg-whites whipped as stiff as possible. Beat smooth and spread while hot.

Dream Cakes: Cream well half a cup butter, add a cup and a half of sugar, half a cup cold water, two cups flour sifted twice with two teaspoonfuls baking powder, a teaspoonful lemon extract, and the stiffly beaten whites of six eggs. Bake in small shapes, frost, with boiled frosting, and ornament with tiny pink candies.

Shrewsbury Cakes: This receipt with two that follow, comes down from: "The spacious days of great Elizabeth." They are given verbatim, from the original version, as it seems to me the flavor of the language must add to the flavor of the cakes. "Mix half a pound of butter, well beat like cream, with the same weight of flour, one egg, six ounces of beaten and sifted loaf sugar, and half an ounce of caraway seed. Form these into a paste, roll them thin, and lay them in sheets of tin, then bake them in a slow oven."

Queen Cakes: "Take a pound of sugar, beat and sift it, a pound of well dried flour, a pound of butter, eight eggs, and half a pound of currants, washed and picked; grate a nutmeg and an equal quantity of mace and cinnamon, work the butter to a cream, put in the sugar, beat the whites of the eggs twenty minutes and mix them with the butter and sugar. Then beat the yolks for half an hour, and put them to the butter. Beat the whole together and when it is ready for the oven, put in the flour, spices and currants, sift a little sugar over them, and bake them in tins."

Banbury Cakes: "Take a pound of dough, made for white bread, roll it out and put bits of butter upon the same as for puff paste, till a pound of the same has been worked in; roll it out very thin, then cut it into bits of an oval size, according as the cakes are wanted. Mix some good moist sugar with a little brandy, sufficient to wet it, then mix some clean-washed currants with the former, put a little upon each bit of paste, close them up, and put the side that is closed next the tin they are to be baked upon. Lay them separate, and bake them moderately, and afterward, when taken out, sift sugar over them. Some candied peel may be added, or a few drops essence of lemon."

Oatmeal Cookies: (Mrs. T. G. Petre.) Beat together until creamy, one egg, half cup sugar, third cup butter, third teaspoonful soda mixed with one cup sifted pastry flour, half teaspoonful each of salt and cinnamon, then add one cup rolled oatmeal, half cup each of shredded nuts and raisins. Mix well, drop on greased tin, and bake in a slow oven. Do not let the stiffness of the dough induce you to add milk or water.

Tea Cakes: (Betsy Vaughn.) Cream together a cup and a half of butter, and two cups and a half of sugar, add to five eggs beaten very light, mix well, then add a cup and a half of buttermilk with a small teaspoonful of soda dissolved in it. Pour upon flour enough to make a soft dough, flavor with nutmeg, roll out a quarter-inch thick, cut with a small, round cutter, and bake in a quick but not scorching oven.

Tea Cakes: (M. L. Williams.) Beat five eggs very light, with five cups of sugar, a heaping cup of lard, well creamed, and two cupfuls of sour milk, with a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in it. Mix through enough flour to make a soft dough, roll half an inch thick, cut out and bake in a quick oven.

Plain Soft Gingerbread: Dissolve a desert spoonful of soda in a cup of boiling water, add to it a cup of rich molasses, along with three tablespoonfuls of melted butter. Mix well through two and and one half cups sifted flour, add ground ginger and alspice to taste, and bake in a moderate oven.

Mammy's Ginger Cakes: Beat four eggs very light with a good pinch of salt and a cup of coffee sugar. Add three cups of rich molasses, and a cup of boiling water with two teaspoonfuls soda dissolved in it. Mix well in two tablespoonfuls pounded ginger. Sift five pints of flour with a teaspoonful of salt, rub into it lightly two cups sweet lard, then add the molasses mixture and knead to a firm dough, adding more flour if needed or, if too stiff, a little sweet milk. Roll out half an inch thick, cut into big squares, bake in a quick oven, and brush over the tops while blazing hot a little butter, molasses and boiling water. Let stand in a warm place until dry. These might properly be called First Monday Ginger Cakes, since our Mammy made them to sell upon that day to the crowds which came to court, thereby turning many an honest fip or picayune.

Family Gingerbread: Cup and a half dark molasses, half cup sugar, small cup melted lard, cup boiling water with teaspoonful soda dissolved in it, pinch of salt, sifted flour enough to make rather stiffer than pound cake batter. Spices to taste—ginger, allspice, nutmeg, all in powder, is a good mixture. Bake rather quickly.

Solid Chocolate Cake: (Mrs. R. Heim.) Cream together one cup butter, two of sugar, add six egg-yolks beaten light, then add alternately one cup sour milk with teaspoon soda dissolved in it, and three cups sifted flour. Fold in egg-whites stiffly beaten then add half cake Baker's chocolate melted, and three teaspoonfuls vanilla. Stir hard a minute, pour in deep, well greased pan, and bake in moderate oven.

Coffee Cake: (Mrs. R. Heim.) Beat together until light, one egg, one cup sugar, butter the size of a large egg. Add alternately one cup milk, and two cups flour with two teaspoonfuls baking powder sifted in it. Put in pan, and sprinkle thickly all over top with sugar and powdered cinnamon. Bake rather quickly but do not scorch.

Fig Pudding: (Mrs. R. Heim.) One pound figs, half pound suet, six eggs, two cups sugar, three cups biscuit crumbs. Run figs, suet and crumbs through grinder, beat eggs very light, add other ingredients, beat again, and steam or boil in buttered mold, tied in well scalded bag, four hours. Serve hot with this sauce. Beat to a light cream, one cup butter with two cups sugar. Add two eggs very well beaten, then gradually two tablespoons vinegar and one of vanilla. Cook a long time in double boiler, stirring constantly, or it will not be smooth. Keep hot until served.

Thin Ginger Snaps: (Mrs. R. Heim.) Mix a cup of melted lard well through two of molasses, add a pinch of salt, spices to taste, and enough flour to make a soft batter. Drop by small spoonfuls on a well-greased baking sheet, and cook in quick oven.

Measure Pound Cake: (Leslie Fox.) Cream well together, one cup butter, one and three-quarter cups sugar, when very light, drop in an egg-yolk unbeaten, beat hard, put in another yolk, beat again hard, then another, and repeat the hard beating. When very light add alternately two and one-half cups flour, and one cup milk, mix well, then add half a cup flour sifted three times with three even teaspoonfuls baking powder. Follow this with the egg-whites beaten stiff. Flavor with brandy—a tablespoonful and a half. Bake in a moderate oven about an hour. Serve with any approved pudding sauce, or use as other cake. Nearly as good as the pound cake of our grandmothers.

Kisses: (Mrs. R. Heim.) Add to four fresh egg-whites unbeaten, a tiny pinch of salt, two teaspoonfuls water, and three cups fine sugar. Beat hard for at least half an hour—until the mixture is smooth and stiff. Drop from point of spoon upon buttered paper, and harden in an oven cool enough not to color.



Barbecued Lamb: The middle piece, known to butchers as "the bracelet," is best for barbecuing. Have it split down the backbone, and the rib-ends neatly trimmed, also the ribs proper, broken about midway, but not quite through. Wash clean, wipe dry, rub over well with salt, then prick in tiny gashes with a sharp-pointed knife, and rub in well black pepper, paprika, a very little dry mustard, then dash lightly with tabasco. Put a low rack in the bottom of a deep narrowish pan, set the meat upon it, letting only the backbone and rib-ends touch the rack. This puts it in a sort of Gothic arch. Keep it so throughout the cooking. Put a cupful of water underneath—it must not touch the meat. Have the oven very hot, but not scorching—should it scorch in the least turn another pan over the meat for the first hour of cooking. Add more water as the first boils away, but do not baste the meat—the water is merely to keep it from getting too hard. Roast till the fat is crisped and brown throughout, the lean very tender. Take up on a broad, hot dish, and in serving cut along the ribs, so as to let each portion include the whole length of them, as well as part of the backbone. Serve with a sauce, of melted butter, mixed with equal quantity of strong vinegar, boiling hot, made thick with red and black pepper, minced cucumber pickle, and a bare dash of onion juice. This is as near an approach to a real barbecue, which is cooked over live coals in the bottom of a trench, as a civilized kitchen can supply.

The middling of a pig weighing less than a hundred pounds, well scraped, washed clean, and likewise roasted on a rack after seasoning it well, makes a fine dish. The sauce for it should include minced green peppers, instead of cucumbers. If you happen to have a pepper mango, cut it fine, and let it stand in the hot sauce ten minutes before serving.

Beefsteak with Bacon and Onions: Fry crisp a pound of streaky bacon, take up and keep warm. Make the fat bubble all over, lay in it a steak, wiped clean, seasoned with salt and pepper, and dredged lightly with flour. Sear it well on both sides—take from the fat, lay on broiler, and cook for ten minutes, turning once. Serve thus if you like it rare—if contrariwise you want it well done, set the steak on a rack or broiler in a hot oven, and let it cook there for fifteen to twenty minutes, according to thickness. Meantime dredge more flour into the fat, let it brown a minute, then lay in large, mild onions thinly sliced. Fry to a light brown, and serve around the steak. Serve the gravy separately, adding to it just before taking up, a little hot water, and shaking the pan well. This may be varied by frying with the onions or instead of them, sliced tomatoes, and green peppers finely shredded. Or cut large, very meaty tomatoes, unpeeled, into thick slices, pour off the gravy, lay them in the hot, greasy pan, season well with pepper and salt, and cook five minutes, turning them and seasoning the other side. Lay the bacon on the tomatoes—otherwise put it around the steak outside the onions.

Boned Fresh Ham: It had better not be too big—ten pounds is about the limit. Have the bone removed, but do not throw it away. Instead break it in pieces and boil them three hours in water to barely cover. Wipe the ham well inside and out, rub the inside over lightly with butter, season with salt and pepper, and pour in a little vinegar. Rub salt well over the outside and let stand on ice several hours. Make a stuffing of grated breadcrumbs, with minced pork fat, a sprig of celery chopped fine, half an apple, also chopped fine, salt, pepper, paprika, a pinch of sage in powder, and the least shred of thyme and lemon peel. A chestnut stuffing can be used, or one whose foundation is grated sweet potato. Fill the bone cavity, firmly but not too full, skewer or sew together the cut edges, and tie around twice with narrow tape. Turn over, score the skin well, rub it with soft butter or bacon fat, dredge lightly with flour, then with black and red pepper, also lightly with sugar, and lay on a low rack in a pan. Fill in sweet cider, or sound claret till it stands halfway up to the ham, cover with a close-fitting upper pan, and put into a hot oven. Cook for two hours, lifting the pan now and then, and basting the meat. Uncover, and make very, very crisp. Serve on a hot dish, with candied sweet potatoes laid around. Add boiling water to the liquor in the pan, shake it well about, and pour into a gravy boat. Or pour off the grease, add a sprinkle of flour, let it brown on top the stove, and put to it the strained liquor the bone was boiled in. Cook three minutes, and serve in the gravy boat. If the bone liquor is not used this way, make it the foundation of pea or cabbage soup. In carving cut through and through so as to serve the stuffing with each portion.

Roast Beef: Scrape and wash clean, wipe dry, sear cut sides well, either in bubbling fat, or under gas flame, set on a small rack in a deep pan, sprinkle well with salt and pepper, dredge on flour scantly, pour water underneath till it stands half an inch deep, cover close, set in a hot oven and cook until tender. Basting will not be needed until the pan is uncovered—then add a little more water, boiling hot, baste thoroughly, return to oven, and brown. If you like, add sliced tomatoes, minced onions, shredded green peppers, carrots cut small, and very tender green peas after uncovering—they will cook while the meat is browning, and can be served all together in a separate dish.

Pot Roast: Wash and dry, then brown lightly all over in hot bacon fat, and lay upon a small rack in the bottom of a deep pot, seasoning well with salt, pepper, and paprika. Pour on a little Cayenne, vinegar, add a spoonful of hot fat, then pour in enough boiling water to come half way up the meat, cover tight, and simmer until tender. An hour before serving time, put any sort of vegetables approved, or at hand, carrots, sliced, peas, string beans, lima beans, potatoes in thick slices, into the browning fat, let them cook five to ten minutes, sprinkling them well with salt and pepper, then skim out of the fat, and add to the pot, along with a cupful more boiling water. Simmer until the water is all gone, and the meat is brown. Take up, lay vegetables around the meat, or make a bed of them for it, add a little more hot water to the pot, stir well over the fire till it takes up the meat essence, then pour it over meat and vegetables, else serve in a gravy boat.

Leg of Mutton in Blanket: Make deep, narrow gashes in the thick end of a clean leg of mutton, crowd into them a mixed seasoning, salt, red and black pepper, minced onion, a little dry mustard, and powdered herbs. Brush all over with melted butter, or soft bacon fat, then sprinkle lightly with salt, set on a rack in a roasting pan, and pop into a very hot oven. Let it brown—then rub over it any tart jelly melted in a little hot water, and envelop it in a crust of flour and water, made very stiff, and rolled half an inch thick. Pinch the edges tight together, lay back in the pan, cover it, and bake in a hot oven. Take up, break the blanket carefully on top, lift out the meat, and pour the gravy from the envelop into a small sauce pan, add to it either hot claret, or a spoonful of tart jelly, along with tabasco or Worcester sauce, boil up, and serve in a boat. Tomato or walnut catsup may be used for flavoring. Indeed one sometimes finds opportunity a close second to inspiration.

The Preparation of Poultry and Game: Pick carefully, draw and singe every manner of poultry and feathered game, wash clean, quickly, in cold water, never hot, drain, then wipe as dry as possible with a soft, thick, damp cloth—it takes up moisture cleaner than a dry one. Keep very cold and away from smells until ready to cook. Tilt roasting fowls, so they may drain, if liquid gathers. Before stuffing rub over the whole inside lightly with soft butter or bacon fat, pepper it scantly, and rub on a very little salt. Grease and season the outside after stuffing is done,—never before it. If game is shot-torn, soak for ten minutes in weak salt water after plucking, rinse in cold salt water, wipe dry and drain.

Furred game, as rabbits, squirrels, possums, ought to be drawn before it is cold, if you would have the finest flavor. This is especially necessary with possums—which should be bought alive, and fattened for several weeks in a clean cage, feeding them on bread, milk, apples, potatoes, cabbage leaves, and grass. This makes them tender and much more delicate in flavor. Kill by dislocating the neck with a quick, upward jerk, then cut the throat and hang to bleed. Roll after dampening fur well in very hot embers—then scrape the same as a pig, draw, and hang to cool. Divide the skin of rabbits and squirrels around the middle, and pull off each half, the same as a kid glove. Thus no hairs stick on the clean flesh. Draw very quickly, wipe lightly with a damp cloth, and hang where it is cool and airy for at least an hour.

Roast Turkey: Make a stuffing of stale bread. Cut the crusts from a small loaf, grate the crumb, brown crusts crisp, crush, sift and mix well with the gratings. Shred finely through it four ounces fresh suet, and a lump of butter the size of an egg. Add a tiny heart of celery cut small, half a tart apple also cut fine, two dozen fat raisins, seeded, halved, and soaked for twelve hours in whiskey to cover, salt, pepper, and paprika to taste. Mix well, stuff the turkey but not too tight. Put a handful in the crop space, and fasten the skin neatly over. Truss your turkey firmly, rub all over with soft fat, then sprinkle with salt and pepper, and set upon a rack in a deep roasting pan, pour half an inch of water in the bottom, cover tight, put in a hot oven, and roast for an hour, then slack heat and finish. The turkey will brown thus covered, and be tenderer and sweeter than if crisped uncovered. The pan will hold gravy better than can be made otherwise.

Roast chickens or capons in exactly the same way. Geese need to be roasted more slowly and to have a seasoning of sage, onion, and tart apple in the stuffing, instead of raisins. The dry stuffing takes up the juices of the fowl, and is much more flavorous, and less pasty than that which is wet before use.

Guinea Hen in Casserole: Stick six cloves in a cored and pared apple, thrust a heart of celery in the core space, then fit it inside a guinea hen, buttered, salted and peppered inside. Pack in grated bread crumbs—all there is space for. Truss, grease, season, set in a hot oven, and brown lightly all over, then lay in a casserole on a bed of sliced carrots, young green peas, shredded green peppers, sliced tomatoes and tiny onions, parboiled for five minutes. Add a large lump of butter, rolled in flour, a cup of hot water or weak broth, cover close, and cook an hour in a hot oven. Serve on the vegetables, bedded firmly, with tart jelly melted to barely run, splashed over the breast.

Chickens in Blankets: Take young fat chickens about three pounds weight, dress as for roasting, put inside each a peeled sweet potato, and a small lump of butter, after greasing and seasoning inside and out. Lay on low rack in deep pan, brown lightly in oven, then fit close over each a round of good short crust, rolled a quarter-inch thick. Return to oven—when crust is a rich brown the chickens will be done. Serve crust with each portion—thereby recalling a glorified chicken pie.

Fried Chicken: Cut into joints two tender young chickens, wipe the pieces dry, season with salt and pepper, red and black, then set on ice. Fry a pound of streaky bacon in a deep skillet, take out when crisp, roll chicken in flour, dip in beaten egg, then roll again, and lay in the fat, which must be bubbling hot, but not scorching. Cook, turning often, to a rich brown, take out, then pile in a pan, set the pan over another with boiling water in the bottom, and put all in a very hot oven for fifteen minutes. This cooks the chicken through and through without making it hard. The pieces must not touch in frying so there will be two skilletfuls. When all the chicken is fried, and in the oven, dredge in more flour, stir it well through the fat, then add a cup of cream, stirring hard all the time, and letting it barely simmer—boiling curdles it. Or if you want a full-cream gravy, pour off the fat, stir the cream in double quantity in the skillet to take up the flavors, then pour it in a double boiler, add pepper, salt, minced celery, a little onion juice, and one at a time, lumps of butter, rolled well in flour. Cook until thick and rich, and serve in a gravy boat.

Smothered Chicken: Get two pound broilers fat and tender, have them split down the back, make clean, season by buttering inside and out, sprinkling with salt, pepper and paprika, and dredging with flour. Lay breasts down, upon a low rack in a deep pan, cover with slices of streaky bacon, shingling the slices well. Dredge with pepper and flour, lay in sliced tomatoes, shredded green peppers, and a few small parboiled onions. Add lumps of butter rolled in flour, dotting them all about the bacon. Pour in enough water to barely reach the top of the rack, cover the pan close, and cook in a hot oven, about an hour. Uncover after three-quarters of an hour, add a half-cup more water—this is for the gravy. Cover again, and finish cooking. The chickens should be brown all over but meltingly tender. Take up on a hot dish, breaking the bacon slices as little as possible. Serve the vegetables separate, also the gravy from the pan. The vegetables can be omitted, and smothered chicken still be a dish to rejoice an epicure.

Glorified Chicken Croquets: (Mrs. G. H. Patch.) Boil a large-size tender young chicken till the meat almost drops from the bones. Boil likewise tender, in salt water, one pound either sweetbreads or calf brains. Pick up the chicken and grind the meat fine, then mash it well together with the brains or sweetbreads, and season to taste. Put into a double boiler half-pint cream, tablespoonful butter, two tablespoonfuls flour, one tablespoonful parsley chopped fine, one teaspoonful onion juice, one teaspoonful salt, black and Cayenne pepper to taste. Cook smooth, stirring hard, let thicken, then add the meat, and mix thoroughly. Let cool, shape into croquets, dip in egg, roll in cracker crumbs, and fry quickly in deep hot fat.

Chicken-Turkey Hash: Cut the meat small, freeing of skin and gristle. If there is rich gravy left, put it into a skillet, and cook tender in it, half a dozen sliced tomatoes, three shredded green peppers, a small sliced onion, and a cupful of raw potato cubes. Lacking gravy, cook in butter or bacon fat, and season to taste—gravy requires less seasoning than plain fat. Add the meat, pour in a cup of boiling water, stir all well together, and cook for five minutes. Serve in a hot dish lined with thin toast. Fine for breakfast, or a very late supper.

Rabbit or Squirrel Smothered: Leave whole, rub over with fat, season highly, lay in a pan or skillet, with slices of bacon, add a cup of hot water, cover close, set over the fire, and simmer until tender. Uncover, and brown in the gravy, adding a little Cayenne vinegar at the very last.

Rabbit or Squirrel Barbecued: Leave whole, skewer flat, grease all over, lay on rack in pan, and roast in hot oven, basting every five minutes with hot salt water. When crisp, take up and serve with the sauce directed for barbecued lamb.

Quail: Smother quail the same as rabbits. I like them better halved, and fried crisp and quickly, in deep hot bacon fat. But to make the most of them, a pie's the thing. The crust must be rich and rolled a quarter-inch thick. Put in the birds whole, seasoning them well inside and out, with salt and black pepper. Put in also generous lumps of butter rolled in flour, slices of fat bacon, strips of crust an inch wide and three inches long, a little minced onion, celery or shredded green pepper if the flavors are approved, and a tiny pod of Cayenne pepper. Pour in cold water till it stands half way up the birds. Be sure the cover-crust is plenty big—pinch it down tight, prick and make a cross-cut at the center into which a tubelet of paper must be thrust to prevent the gravy's boiling over. Bake three-quarters of an hour, in a hot oven. Take up, and serve very hot. A gill of hot cream poured in through a funnel after taking up suits some palates—mine is not among them. Other folks like a wineglass of sherry made very hot.

Wild Duck: If likely to be fishy, soak an hour in vinegar and water made very salt, and roast with an onion inside stuck very full of cloves. Season inside and out, rub over with fat or butter, and roast in quick heat, to the degree required. Ducks or geese mild in flavor should be roasted with a tart apple stuck with cloves inside, also a mild onion. Rub over with fat, season with salt and pepper inside and out, and strew inside lightly a small pinch of powdered sage. A good sauce for them is made by browning half a cup of grated bread crumbs in a tablespoonful of butter, adding to it a spoonful of tart jelly, a wineglass of claret, a tablespoonful of tomato catsup, with seasoning to taste of salt and pepper.

Possum Roasted: Chill thoroughly after scraping and drawing. Save all the inside fat, let it soak in weak salt water until cooking time, then rinse it well, and partly try it out in the pan before putting in the possum. Unless he is huge, leave him whole, skewering him flat, and laying him skin side up in the pan. Set in a hot oven and cook until crisply tender, taking care there is no scorching. Roast a dozen good sized sweet potatoes—in ashes if possible, if not, bake them covered in a deep pan. Peel when done, and lay while hot around the possum, turning them over and over in the abundant gravy. He should have been lightly salted when hung up, and fully seasoned, with salt, pepper, and a trifle of mustard, when put down to cook. Dish him in a big platter, lay the potatoes, which should be partly browned, around him, add a little boiling water to the pan, shake well around, and pour the gravy over everything. Hot corn bread, strong black coffee, or else sharp cider, and very hot sharp pickles are the things to serve with him.

Eggs: Eggs demand an introductory paragraph. As everybody knows, there are eggs and eggs. An egg new-laid has a tiny air-space at each end, betwixt the shell and the silken lining membrane. If left lying, this confined air changes its locality—leaves the ends for the upmost side of the shell. Shells are porous—through them the white evaporates—thus the air bubble on top gets bigger and bigger. By the size of it you can judge fairly the egg's age—unless it has been kept in cold storage or in water-glass. By boiling hard, throwing in cold water and peeling intact, you can see for yourself if a fresh egg so-called is truly fresh. If fresh there will be no perceptible marring of its oval—but if it shows a shrinkage, and especially if the yolk is so near the shell it shows through the cooked white, there is proof positive that the egg is not new-laid—though it may be perfectly wholesome.

Eggs kept in clean cool space do not deteriorate under a month. Even after that, thus well kept, they answer for cake making, puddings and so on. But they have an ungodly affinity for taints of almost every kind. Hence keep them away from such things as onions, salt fish, things in brine generally, or any strong ill odors.

Duck eggs are bigger than hen eggs—eight of them being the equivalent to ten. Goose eggs run almost two for one. Turkey eggs, rarely used in cookery, are still excellent eating, much better flavored than duck eggs, which are often rather rank. Here as otherwheres, food is the determining factor. Guinea eggs, in spite of being so much smaller, are equal in raising power and in richness to hen eggs. Indeed, they are the best of all eggs for eating—rich, yet delicate. The only approach to them is the quail egg—we called it always a partridge egg—but only special favorites of the gods have any chance of ever tasting them. Quail nest frequently in wheat fields—at harvest, the uncovered nests yielded choice spoil. Daddy claimed the lion's share of it for "my white chilluns." Often he came with his big hat-crown running over full of the delicate white ovals. Mormonism must prevail in quail circles—sometimes there were forty eggs in a nest. It would have been vandalism of the worst to eat them, only it was no use leaving them bare to the sun, as the birds abandoned them unless they had begun brooding. In that case the mother sat so tight, occasionally the reaper, passing over, took off her head. More commonly she flew away just in time, whirring up between the mules, with a great pretense of lameness. If the nest by good luck was discovered in time, grain was left standing about it. Nobody grudged the yard or so of wheat lost for the sake of sport.

Partridge eggs were boiled hard, and eaten out of hand—they were much too thin-shelled for roasting, in spite of having a very tough lining membrane. With guinea eggs there was quite another story. They have shells extra thick and hard—hence were laid plentifully in hot ashes, heaped over with live coals and left as long as our patience held out. When Mammy pulled them out, it was maddening to see her test them. She laid a short broom straw delicately on each egg. If it whirled round, the egg was done—if contrariwise it fell off, it had to go back in the embers. She had no thought of letting us eat eggs not cooked till the yolk was mealy. To this day I am firmly of opinion she was wise—and right. Eggs roasted as she roasted them have a flavor wholly beyond and apart from those cooked in any other way.

Baked Eggs: These most nearly approximate the flavor of roasted ones. Break fresh eggs at the small ends, drain away the whites, break down the shells to deepish cups, each with a yolk at bottom, sprinkle yolks lightly with salt and pepper, add a bit of butter to each, then set shells upright, close over the bottom of a pan, pop the pan into a hot oven, bake twenty minutes, and serve piping hot. This Mammy gave us to keep from wasting yolks when wedding or Christmas cake demanded many whites for frosting.

Potato Egg Puffs: Into a quart of rich and highly seasoned mashed potatoes, beat two eggs, then divide into equal portions—six or eight. With lightly floured hands make each portion into a ball, set the balls in a baking dish, then press into each a hard-boiled egg. Lay a bit of butter on each egg, and dredge lightly with salt and pepper. Bake in a quick oven until the potato is brown and light—it ought to rise up like a fat apple.

Egg Dumplings: Cousins-germane to the puffs but richer—will serve indeed for the meat course of a plain dinner. Mix the potato well with half its bulk of finely chopped cold meat, the leaner the better, bind with beaten eggs, then divide and roll each portion around a hard-boiled egg, lay the dumplings in a greased and floured pan, giving them plenty of room, pour around them a good gravy, or else a rich tomato sauce, then bake ten to twenty minutes in a hot oven.

Egg Spread: Spread a flat pan an inch deep with rich mashed potato, sprinkle with pepper and salt, then cover the top with eggs hard boiled, and cut in half. Set them yolk up. Put salt, pepper and butter on each yolk, and bake ten minutes in a warm oven. Or if soft eggs are preferred, make depressions in the potato with the back of a spoon, break an egg in each, dust with pepper and salt, add a dot of butter and bake five minutes. If the potatoes are wanted brown, bake them ten minutes after making the depressions, then put in the eggs and bake soft or hard at will.

Poached Eggs: These require a deep skillet, three parts full of water on the bubbling boil, which is slightly salted and well dashed with vinegar. Break all the eggs separately before putting one in. Slip them in, one after the other, quickly, taking care not to break yolks, keep the boiling hard, and use a knife or spoon to prevent the whites from cooking together. Take out in six to seven minutes, using a skimmer and draining well, trim rags off white, lay in a deep hot dish, and pour over real melted butter, made with butter, hot water, salt, pepper, lemon juice or vinegar, and a dash of tabasco. Send to table covered—a poached egg chilled has lost its charm. Or you may serve the eggs on squares of hot, well-buttered toast, which have been sprinkled thickly with grated cheese, then set for a minute inside a hot oven. Served thus, pass the melted butter with them, as if poured over, they might be too rich for some palates.

Egg Fours: Cut hard-boiled eggs in four lengthwise, mix yolks with an equal bulk of sardines, drained, freed of skin and bone, and minced fine. Season with salt, pepper, lemon juice, or vinegar, and olive oil. Add minced olives if you like. The mixture must be soft, but not too soft to shape well. Shape it into small ovals, using two spoons, and lay an oval in each quarter of the whites. Put very narrow strips of pimento on the ovals, then sprinkle them thickly with grated cheese—Edam is good for such use. Set in a baking dish and cook two to four minutes in a hot oven. If wanted extra tasty, as for a relish before dinner, set the fours on narrow strips of toast, spread with made mustard, well-mixed with finely minced very sour cucumber pickle.