FAMOUS MENUS AND RECIPES.

"Once on a time, in the brave Henry's age,Four beggars dining underneath a treeCombined their stores; each from his wallet drewHandfuls of stolen fruit, and sang for glee."So runs the story,—'Garçon, bring thecarte,Soup, cutlets—stay—and mind, amatelotte.'And 'Charles,—a pint of Burgundy's best Beanne;In our deep glasses every joy shall float!'"And 'Garçon, bring me from the woven frailThat turbaned merchants from fair Smyrna sent,The figs with golden seeds, the honeyed fruit,That feast the stranger in the Syrian tent."'Go fetch us grapes from all the vintage rowsWhere the brave Spaniards gaily quaff the wine,What time the azure ripple of the wavesLaughs bright beneath the green leaves of the vine!"'Nor yet, unmindful of the fabled scrip,Forget the nuts from Barcelona's shore,Soaked in Iberian oil from olives pressed,To the crisp kernels adding one charm more."'The almonds last, plucked from a sunny tree,Half way up Lybanus, blanched as snowy whiteAs Leila's teeth, and they will fitly crownThe beggars' four-fold dish for us to-night."'Beggars are happy! then let us be so;We've buried care in wine's red-glowing sea.There let him soaking lie—he was our foe;Joy laughs above his grave—and so will we!'"

"Once on a time, in the brave Henry's age,Four beggars dining underneath a treeCombined their stores; each from his wallet drewHandfuls of stolen fruit, and sang for glee.

"Once on a time, in the brave Henry's age,

Four beggars dining underneath a tree

Combined their stores; each from his wallet drew

Handfuls of stolen fruit, and sang for glee.

"So runs the story,—'Garçon, bring thecarte,Soup, cutlets—stay—and mind, amatelotte.'And 'Charles,—a pint of Burgundy's best Beanne;In our deep glasses every joy shall float!'

"So runs the story,—'Garçon, bring thecarte,

Soup, cutlets—stay—and mind, amatelotte.'

And 'Charles,—a pint of Burgundy's best Beanne;

In our deep glasses every joy shall float!'

"And 'Garçon, bring me from the woven frailThat turbaned merchants from fair Smyrna sent,The figs with golden seeds, the honeyed fruit,That feast the stranger in the Syrian tent.

"And 'Garçon, bring me from the woven frail

That turbaned merchants from fair Smyrna sent,

The figs with golden seeds, the honeyed fruit,

That feast the stranger in the Syrian tent.

"'Go fetch us grapes from all the vintage rowsWhere the brave Spaniards gaily quaff the wine,What time the azure ripple of the wavesLaughs bright beneath the green leaves of the vine!

"'Go fetch us grapes from all the vintage rows

Where the brave Spaniards gaily quaff the wine,

What time the azure ripple of the waves

Laughs bright beneath the green leaves of the vine!

"'Nor yet, unmindful of the fabled scrip,Forget the nuts from Barcelona's shore,Soaked in Iberian oil from olives pressed,To the crisp kernels adding one charm more.

"'Nor yet, unmindful of the fabled scrip,

Forget the nuts from Barcelona's shore,

Soaked in Iberian oil from olives pressed,

To the crisp kernels adding one charm more.

"'The almonds last, plucked from a sunny tree,Half way up Lybanus, blanched as snowy whiteAs Leila's teeth, and they will fitly crownThe beggars' four-fold dish for us to-night.

"'The almonds last, plucked from a sunny tree,

Half way up Lybanus, blanched as snowy white

As Leila's teeth, and they will fitly crown

The beggars' four-fold dish for us to-night.

"'Beggars are happy! then let us be so;We've buried care in wine's red-glowing sea.There let him soaking lie—he was our foe;Joy laughs above his grave—and so will we!'"

"'Beggars are happy! then let us be so;

We've buried care in wine's red-glowing sea.

There let him soaking lie—he was our foe;

Joy laughs above his grave—and so will we!'"

It was from that love of contrast, then, was it, which is a part of all luxury, that the fable of theQuatre Mendiantswas made to serve like the olives at dessert. Perhaps the fillip which walnuts give to wine suggested it. It was a modern French rendering of the skull made to do duty as a drinking-cup. It is a part of the five kernels of corn at a Pilgrim dinner, without that high conscientiousness of New England. It is a part, perhaps, of the more melancholy refrain, "Be merry, be merry, for to-morrow ye die!" It is that warmth is warmer when we remember cold; it is that food is good when we remember the starving; it is thatbringing inof the pleasant vision of the four beggars under the tree,as a picture perhaps; at any rate there it is, moral at your pleasure.

The desserts of the middle ages were heavy and cumbrous affairs, and had no special character. There would be a good deal of Cellini cup and Limoges plate, and Palissy dish, and golden chased goblet about it, no doubt. How glad the collectors of to-day would be to get them! And we picture the heavy indigestible cakes, and poisonous bonbons. The taste must have been questionable if we can believe Ben Jonson, who tells of the beribboned dwarf jester who, at a Lord Mayor's dinner, took a flying header into a dish of custard, to the infinite sorrow of ladies' dresses; he followed, probably, that dish in which the dwarf Sir Geoffrey Hudson was concealed, and they both are after Tom Thumb, who was fishing about in a cup of posset a thousand years ago.

The dessert is allowed by all French writers to be of Italian origin; and we read of themaîtres d'hotel, before the Italian dessert arrived, probably introduced by Catherine de Medici and the Guises, that they gloried in mountains of fruit, and sticky hills of sweetmeats. The elegance was clumsy and ostentatious; there was no poetry in it. Paul Veronese's picture of the "Marriage of Cana" will give some idea of the primeval French dessert. The later fashion was of those trees and gardens and puppets abused by Horace Walpole; but Frenchmen delighted in seas of glass, flower-beds formed of coloured sand, and little sugar men and women promenading in enamelled bowling-greens. We get some idea of the magnificent fêtes of Louis XIV. at Versailles from the glowing descriptions of Molière.

Dufoy in 1805 introduced "frizzled muslin into a sliceof fairyland;" that is, he made extraordinary pictures of temples and trees, for the centre of his dessert. And these palaces and temples were said to have been of perfect proportions; his trees of frizzled muslin were admirable. It sounds very much like children's toys just now.

He went further, Dufoy; having ransacked heaven and earth, air and water, he thrust his hand into the fire, and made harmless rockets shoot from his sugar temples. Sugar rocks were strewn about with precipices of nougat, glaciers of vanilla candy, and waterfalls of spun sugar. A confectioner in 1805 had to keep his wits about him, for after every victory of Napoleon he was expected to do the whole thing in sugar. He was decorator, painter, architect, sculptor, and florist—icer, yes, until after the Russian campaign, and then—they had had enough of ice. Thus we see that the dessert has always been more for the eye than for the stomach.

The good things which have been said over the walnuts and the wine! The pretty books written about claret and olives! One author says that if all the good things which have been said about the gay and smiling dessert could be printed, it would make a pleasant anecdotic little pamphlet of four thousand odd pages!

We must not forget all the absurdities of the dessert. The Prince Regent, whose tastes inclined to a vulgar and spurious Orientalism, at one of his costly feasts at Carleton House had a channel of real water running around the table, and in this swam gold and silver fish. The water was only let on at dessert.

These fancies may be sometimes parodied in our own time, as the bonbon makers of Paris now devote their talents to the paper absurdities of harlequins, Turks,Chinamen, and all the vagaries of a fancy-dress ball with which the passengers of steamships amuse themselves after the Captain's dinner. This is not that legitimate dessert at which we now find ices disguised as natural fruits, or copying a rose. All the most beautiful forms in the world are now reproduced in the frozen water or cream, as healthful as it is delicious, in the famous jelly with maraschino, or the delicate bonbon with the priceless liqueur, or, better still, thateau de menthecordial, our own green peppermint, which, after all, saves as by one mouthful from the horrors of indigestion and adds that "thing more exquisite still" to the perfect dessert,—a good night's sleep.

Gather up the fragments that remain that nothing be lost.Johnvi. 12.

This is not intended to be a cookery book; but in order to help the young housekeeper we shall give some hints as tomenusand a few rare recipes.

The great line of seacoast from New York to Florida presents us with some unrivalled delicacies, and the negroes of the State of Maryland, which was founded by a rich and luxurious Lord Baltimore, knew how to cook the terrapin, the canvas-back duck, oysters, and the superb wild turkey,—not to speak of the well-fattened poultry of that rich and luxurious Lorraine of America, "Maryland, my Maryland," which Oliver Wendell Holmes calls the "gastronomical centre of the universe."

Here is an old Virginia recipe for cooking terrapin, which is rare and excellent:—

Take three large, live, diamond-backed terrapin, plunge them in boiling water for three minutes, to take off the skin, wipe them clean, cook them in water slightly salted, drain them, let them get cold, open and take out everything from the shell. In removing the entrails care must be taken not to break the gall. Cut off the head, tail, nails, gall, and bladder. Cut the meat in even-size pieces, put them in a sauce-pan with four ounces of butter, add the terrapin eggs, and moisten them with a half pint of Madeira wine. Let the mixture cook until the moisture is reduced one-half. Thenadd two spoonfuls of cream sauce. After five minutes add the yolks of four raw eggs diluted with a half-cup of cream. Season with salt and a pinch of red pepper. The mixture should not boil after the yolk of egg is added. Toss in two ounces of butter before serving. The heat of the mess will cook egg and butter enough. Serve with quartered lemon.

This is, perhaps, if well-cooked, the most excellent of all American dishes.

A chicken gumbo soup is next:—

Cut up one chicken, wash and dry it, dip it in flour, salt and pepper it, then fry it in hot lard to a delicate brown.In a soup kettle place five quarts of water and your chicken, let it boil hard for two hours, cut up twenty-four okra pods, add them to the soup, and boil the whole another hour. One large onion should be put in with the chicken. Add red pepper to taste, also salt, not too much, and serve with rice. Dried okra can be used, but must be soaked over night.

Cut up one chicken, wash and dry it, dip it in flour, salt and pepper it, then fry it in hot lard to a delicate brown.

In a soup kettle place five quarts of water and your chicken, let it boil hard for two hours, cut up twenty-four okra pods, add them to the soup, and boil the whole another hour. One large onion should be put in with the chicken. Add red pepper to taste, also salt, not too much, and serve with rice. Dried okra can be used, but must be soaked over night.

Another Maryland success was the tomato catsup:—

Boil one bushel of tomatoes until soft, squeeze through a sieve, add to the juice half a gallon of vinegar, 1½ pints salt, 3 ounces of whole cloves, 1 ounce of allspice, 2 ounces of cayenne pepper, 3 tablespoonfuls of black pepper, 3 heads of garlic, skinned and separated; boil three hours or until the quantity is reduced one-half, bottle without skimming. The spices should be put in a muslin bag, which must be taken out, of course, before bottling. If desired 1 peck of onions can be boiled, passed through a sieve, and the juice added to the tomatoes.Green pepper pickles: Half a pound of mustard seed soaked over night, 1 quart of green pepper chopped, 2 quarts of onions chopped, 4 quarts of cucumbers also chopped, 8 quarts of green tomatoes chopped, 6 quarts of cabbage chopped; mix and measure. To every gallon of this mixture add one teacup of salt, let it stand until morning, then squeeze perfectly dry with the hands. Then add 8 poundsof sugar, and cover with good vinegar and boil five minutes. After boiling, and while still hot, squeeze perfectly dry, then add 2 ounces of cloves, 2 ounces of allspice, 3 ounces of cinnamon and the mustard seed.The peppers should be soaked in brine thirty-six or forty-eight hours. After soaking, wipe dry and stuff, place them in glass jars, and cover with fresh vinegar.

Green pepper pickles: Half a pound of mustard seed soaked over night, 1 quart of green pepper chopped, 2 quarts of onions chopped, 4 quarts of cucumbers also chopped, 8 quarts of green tomatoes chopped, 6 quarts of cabbage chopped; mix and measure. To every gallon of this mixture add one teacup of salt, let it stand until morning, then squeeze perfectly dry with the hands. Then add 8 poundsof sugar, and cover with good vinegar and boil five minutes. After boiling, and while still hot, squeeze perfectly dry, then add 2 ounces of cloves, 2 ounces of allspice, 3 ounces of cinnamon and the mustard seed.

The peppers should be soaked in brine thirty-six or forty-eight hours. After soaking, wipe dry and stuff, place them in glass jars, and cover with fresh vinegar.

This was considered the triumph of the Southern housekeeper.

Chicken with spaghetti: Stir four sliced onions in two ounces of butter till very soft, add one quart of peeled tomatoes; stew chicken in water until tender, and pick to pieces. Add enough of the gravy to make a quart, put with the onions and tomatoes. Let it stew fifteen minutes gently. Put into boiling water 2½ pounds of spaghetti and a handful of salt, boil twenty minutes or until tender; drain this and put in a layer on a platter sprinkled with grated cheese, and pour the stew on it. Fill the platter with these layers, reserving the best of the chicken to lay on top.

The old negro cooks made a delicious confection known as confection cake. Those who lived to tell of having eaten it declared that it was a dream. It certainly leads to dreams, and bad ones, but it is worth a nightmare:—

1½ cups of sugar, 2½ cups of flour, ½ cup of butter, ½ cup of sweet milk, whites of six eggs, 3 small teaspoons of baking powder. Bake in two or three layers on a griddle.Filling: 1 small cocoanut grated, 1 pound almonds blanched, and cut up not too fine, 1 teacup of raisins chopped, 1 teacup of citron chopped, 4 eggs, whites only, 7 tablespoonfuls of pulverized sugar to each egg.

1½ cups of sugar, 2½ cups of flour, ½ cup of butter, ½ cup of sweet milk, whites of six eggs, 3 small teaspoons of baking powder. Bake in two or three layers on a griddle.

Filling: 1 small cocoanut grated, 1 pound almonds blanched, and cut up not too fine, 1 teacup of raisins chopped, 1 teacup of citron chopped, 4 eggs, whites only, 7 tablespoonfuls of pulverized sugar to each egg.

Mix this destructive substance well in the froth of egg, and spread between the layers of cake when they are hot; set it a few minutes in the oven, but do notburn it, and you have a delicious and profoundly indigestible dessert. You will be able to write Sartor Resartus, after eating of it freely.

Walnut Cake: 1 cup of butter, 2 cups of sugar, 6 eggs, 4 cups of flour, 1 cup of milk, 2 teaspoonfuls of yeast powder.

This is also baked in layers, and awaits the dynamite filling which is to blow you up:—

Walnut Filling: 2 cups of brown sugar, 1 cup of cream, a piece of butter the size of an egg. Cook twenty minutes, stirring all the time; when ready to take off the stove put in one cup of walnut meats. After this has cooked a few minutes longer, spread between the layers, and while both cake and filling are hot.

Perhaps a fewmenusmay be added here to assist the memory of her "who does not know what to have for dinner:"—

Or a plain dinner:—

This last dinner is perhaps enough for only a small party, but it is very well composed. A much more elaboratemenufollows:—

An excellent bill of fare for eight persons, in the month of October, is the following:—

Soup.Bisque of crayfish.Fish.Baked smelts,à la Mentone,Potato balls,à la Rouenaise,Ribs of beef braised, stewed with vegetables.Brussels sprouts.Roast birds, or quail on toast.Celery salad.

To make a bisque of crayfish is a very delicate operation, but it is worth trying:—

Have three dozen live crayfish, wash them well, and take the intestines out by pinching the extreme end of the centre fin, when with a sudden jerk the gall can be withdrawn. Put in a stewpan two ounces of butter, with a carrot, an onion, two stalks of celery, two ounces of salted pork, all sliced fine, and a bunch of parsley; fry ten minutes, add the crayfish, with a pint of French white wine and a quart of veal broth. Stir and boil gently for an hour, then drain all in a large strainer, take out the bunch of parsley and save the broth; pick the shells off the crayfish tails, trim them neatly and keep until wanted. Cook separately a pint and a half of rice, with three pints of veal broth, pound the rest of the crayfish and vegetables, add the rice, pound again, dilute with the broth of the crayfish, and add more veal broth if too thick. Pass forcibly through a fine sieve with a wooden presser, put the residue in a saucepan, warm without boiling, and stir all the while with a wooden spoon. Finish with three ounces of table butter, a glass of Madeira wine, and a pinch of cayenne pepper; serve hot in soup tureen with the crayfish tails.To prepare baked smelts à la Mentone: Spread in a large and narrow baking-dish some fish forcemeat half an inch thick, have two dozen large, fresh, well-cleaned smelts, lay them down in a row on the forcemeat, season with salt, pepper, and grated nutmeg, pour over a thick white Italian sauce, sprinkle some bread crumbs on them, put a small pat of butter on each one and bake for half an hour in a pretty hot oven, then squeeze the juice of a lemon over and serve in a baking-dish.To make potato balls à la Rouenaise: Boil the potatoes and rub them fine, then roll each ball in white of egg, lay them on a floured table, roll into shape of a pigeon's egg, dip them in melted butter, and fry a light brown in clear hot grease. Sprinkle fine salt over and serve in a folded napkin.To prepare braised ribs of beef: Have a small set of threeribs cut short, cook it asbeef à la mode, that is, stew it with spices and vegetables, dish it up with carrots, turnips, and onions, pour the reduced gravy over.To prepare Brussels sprouts, demi-glacé: Trim and wash the sprouts, soak them in boiling salted water about thirty minutes, cool them in cold water, and drain them. Put six ounces of butter in a large frying-pan, melt it and put the sprouts in it, season with salt and pepper, fry on a brisk fire until thoroughly hot, serve in a dish with a rich drawn-butter sauce with chopped parsley.

To prepare baked smelts à la Mentone: Spread in a large and narrow baking-dish some fish forcemeat half an inch thick, have two dozen large, fresh, well-cleaned smelts, lay them down in a row on the forcemeat, season with salt, pepper, and grated nutmeg, pour over a thick white Italian sauce, sprinkle some bread crumbs on them, put a small pat of butter on each one and bake for half an hour in a pretty hot oven, then squeeze the juice of a lemon over and serve in a baking-dish.

To make potato balls à la Rouenaise: Boil the potatoes and rub them fine, then roll each ball in white of egg, lay them on a floured table, roll into shape of a pigeon's egg, dip them in melted butter, and fry a light brown in clear hot grease. Sprinkle fine salt over and serve in a folded napkin.

To prepare braised ribs of beef: Have a small set of threeribs cut short, cook it asbeef à la mode, that is, stew it with spices and vegetables, dish it up with carrots, turnips, and onions, pour the reduced gravy over.

To prepare Brussels sprouts, demi-glacé: Trim and wash the sprouts, soak them in boiling salted water about thirty minutes, cool them in cold water, and drain them. Put six ounces of butter in a large frying-pan, melt it and put the sprouts in it, season with salt and pepper, fry on a brisk fire until thoroughly hot, serve in a dish with a rich drawn-butter sauce with chopped parsley.

A diplomatic supper was once served at the White House, of which the followingmenuis an accurate report:—

One could have satisfied an appetite with all this.

General Grant was probably the mostfêtedAmerican who ever visited Europe. He was entertained by every monarch and by many most distinguished citizens. The Duke of Wellington opened the famous Waterloo Roomin Apsley House in his honour, and toasted him as the first soldier of the age. But it is improbable that he ever had a better dinner than the following:—

It was given to him in New York, in 1880, at the Hotel Brunswick. It was for ten people only, in a private parlour, arranged as a dining-roomen suitewith the Venetian parlour. The room was in rich olive and bronze tints. The buffet glittered with crystal, and Venetian glass. On the side tables were arranged the coffee service and other accessories. The whole room was filled with flowers, the chandelier hung with smilax, dotted with carnations. The table was arranged with roses, heliotrope, and carnations, the deep purple and green grapes hanging over gold dishes. The dinner service was of white porcelain with heliotrope border, the glass of iridescent crystal. The furnishing of the Venetian parlour, the rich carvings, the suits of armour, the antique chairs were all mediæval; the dinner was modern and American:—

Probably the last item interested and amused the General, who was nogourmet, much more than even the terrapin.

Thismenufor a November dinner cannot be surpassed.

Aufidius for his morning beverage usedHoney in strong Falernian wine infused;But here methinks he showed his want of brains:Drink less austere best suits the empty veins.· · · · · ·Shell fish afford a lubricating slime!But then you must observe both place and time.They're caught the finest when the moon is new;The Lucrine far excel the Baian too.Misenum shines in cray fish; Circe mostIn oysters; scollops let Tarentum boast.The culinary critic first should learnEach nicer shade of flavour to discern:To sweep the fish stalls is mere show at best· · · · · ·Unless you know how each thing should be drest.Let boars of Umbrian game replete with mast,If game delights you, crown the rich repast.Satires of Horace.

Aufidius for his morning beverage usedHoney in strong Falernian wine infused;But here methinks he showed his want of brains:Drink less austere best suits the empty veins.

Aufidius for his morning beverage used

Honey in strong Falernian wine infused;

But here methinks he showed his want of brains:

Drink less austere best suits the empty veins.

· · · · · ·

Shell fish afford a lubricating slime!But then you must observe both place and time.They're caught the finest when the moon is new;The Lucrine far excel the Baian too.Misenum shines in cray fish; Circe mostIn oysters; scollops let Tarentum boast.The culinary critic first should learnEach nicer shade of flavour to discern:To sweep the fish stalls is mere show at best

Shell fish afford a lubricating slime!

But then you must observe both place and time.

They're caught the finest when the moon is new;

The Lucrine far excel the Baian too.

Misenum shines in cray fish; Circe most

In oysters; scollops let Tarentum boast.

The culinary critic first should learn

Each nicer shade of flavour to discern:

To sweep the fish stalls is mere show at best

· · · · · ·

Unless you know how each thing should be drest.Let boars of Umbrian game replete with mast,If game delights you, crown the rich repast.

Unless you know how each thing should be drest.

Let boars of Umbrian game replete with mast,

If game delights you, crown the rich repast.

Satires of Horace.

Italian cookery is excellent at its best. The same drift of talent, the same due sense of proportion which showed itself in all their art, which built St. Mark's and the Duomo, the Ducal Palace, the Rialto, and the churches of Palladio, comes out in their cookery. Their cooks are Michel Angelo and Leonardo da Vinci in a humbler sphere.

They mingle cheese in cookery, with great effect; nothing can be better than their cauliflower covered withParmesan cheese, and baked. Macaroni in all its forms is of course admirable. They have mastered the use of sweet oil, which in their cookery never tastes oily; it is simply a lambent richness.

The great dish, wild boar, treated with a sweet and a sour sauce, with pine cones, is an excellent dish. Wild boar is a lean pork with a game flavour. All sorts of birds, especiallybecafico, are well cooked, they lose no juice or flavour over the fire.

They make a dozen preparations of Indian meal, which are very good for breakfast. One little round cake, like a muffin, tastes almost of cocoanut; this is fried in oil, and is most delicious.

Thefrittalais another well-known dish, and is composed of liver, bacon, and birds, all pinned on a long stick, or iron pin.

In an Italian palace, if you have the good luck to be asked, the dinner is handsome. It is served in twelve courses in the Russian manner, and if national dishes are offered they are disguised as inelegant. But at an ordinary farmhouse in the hills near Florence, or at the ordinary hotels, there will be a good soup, trout fresh from the brooks, fresh butter, macaroni with cheese, a fat capon, and a delicious omelette, enriched with morsels of kidney or fat bacon, afrittala, a bunch of grapes, a bottle of Pogio secco, or the sweet Italian straw wine.

The Italians are very frugal, and would consider the luxurious overflow of American munificent hospitality as vulgar. At parties in Rome, Naples, and Florence it is not considered proper to offer much refreshment. At Mr. Story's delightful receptions American hospitality reigned at afternoon tea, as it did in all houses wherethe hostess was American, but at the houses of the Princes nothing was offered but weak wine and water and little cakes.

Many travellers have urged that the cookery of the common Italian dinner is too much flavoured with garlic, but in a winter spent in travelling through Italy I did not find it so. I remember a certain leg of lamb with beans which had a slight taste of onions, but that is all. They have learned, as the French have, that the onion is to cookery what accent is to speech. It should not betrop prononcée. The lamb and pistachio nuts of the Arabian Nights is often served and is delicious.

They give you in an Italian country house for breakfast, at twelve o'clock, a sort of thick soup, very savoury, probably made of chicken with an herb like okra, one dish of meat smothered in beans or tomatoes, followed by a huge dish of macaroni with cheese, or with morsels of ham through it. Then a white curd with powdered cinnamon, sugar, and wine, a bottle ofvino santo, a cup of coffee or chocolate, and bread of phenomenal whiteness and lightness.

Alas, for the poor people! They live on the chestnuts, the frogs, or nothing. The porter at the door of some great house is seen eating a dish of frogs, which are, however, so well cooked that they send up an appetizing fragrance more like a stew of crabs than anything else. One sees sometimes a massive ancient house, towering up in mediæval grandeur, with shafts of marble, and columns of porphyry, lonely, desolate, and beautiful, infinitely impressive, infinitely grand. Some member of a once illustrious family lives within these ruined walls, on almost nothing. He would have to kill his pet falcon to give you a dinner, while around his time-honouredhouse cluster his tenants shaking with malaria,—pale, unhappy, starved people. It is not a cheerful sight, but it can be seen in southern Italy.

The prosperous Italians will give you a well-cooked meal, an immense quantity of bonbons, and the most exquisite candied fruits. Theirconfettiare wonderful, their cakes and ices, their candied fruit, theirtutti frutti, are beyond all others. They crown every feast with a Paradise in spun sugar.

But they despise and fear a fire, and foreigners are apt to find the old Italian palaces dreary, and very cold. A recent traveller writes from Florence: "I have been within the walls of five Italian houses at evening parties, at three of them, music and no conversation; all except one held in cold rooms, the floors black, imperfectly covered with drugget, and no fire; conversation, to me at least, very dull; the topics, music, personal slander,—for religion, government, and literature, were generally excluded from polite society. In only one house, of which the mistress was a German, was tea handed around; sometimes not even a cup of water was passed." We learn from the novels of Marion Crawford that the Italians do not often eat in each others' houses.

Victor Emmanuel, the mighty hunter, had a mighty appetite. He used to dine alone, before the hour for the State dinner. Then with sword in hand, leaning on its jewelled hilt, in full uniform, his breast covered with orders, the King sat at the head of his table, and talked with his guests while the really splendid dinner was served.

Royal banquets are said to be dull. The presence of a man so much above the others in rank has a depressing effect. The guest must console himself with the gloriouspast of Italy, and fix his eyes on the magnificent furniture of the table, the cups of Benvenuto Cellini, the vases of Capo di Monti, the superb porcelain, and the Venetian glass, or he must devote himself to the lamb and pistachio nuts, thechoux fleurs aux Parmesan, or the truffles, which are nowhere so large or so fine as at an Italian dinner. Near Rome they are rooted out of the oak forests by the king's dogs, and are large and full of flavour.

King Humbert has inherited his father's taste for hunting, and sends presents of the game he has shot to his courtiers.

The housekeeping at the Quirinal is excellent; a royal supper at a royal ball is something to remember. And what wines to wash them down with!—the delicious Lacryma Christi, the Falerno or Capri, the Chianti, the Sestio Levante or Asti. Asti is a green wine, rich, strong, and sweet. It makes people ill if they drink it before it is quite old enough—but perhaps it is not often served at royal banquets.

Verdeaux was a favourite wine of Frederic the Great, but Victor Emmanuel's wine was the lusciousMonte Pulciano.

"Monte Pulciano d'ogni vino e il Re."

The brilliant purple colour, like an amethyst, of this noble wine is unlike any other. The aromatic odour is delicious; its sweetness is tempered by an agreeable sharpness and astringency; it leaves a flattering flavour on the tongue.

These best Italian wines have a deliciousness which eludes analysis, like the famous Monte Beni, which old Tommaso produced in a small straw-covered flask at the visit of Kenyon to Donatello. This invaluable winewas of a pale golden hue, like other of the rarest Italian wines, and if carelessly and irreligiously quaffed, might have been mistaken for a sort of champagne. It was not, however, an effervescing wine, although its delicate piquancy produced a somewhat similar effect upon the palate. Sipping, the guest longed to sip again, but the wine demanded so deliberate a pause in order to detect the hidden peculiarities, and subtile exquisiteness of its flavour, that to drink it was more a moral than a physical delight. There was a deliciousness in it which eluded description, and like whatever else that is superlatively good was perhaps better appreciated by the memory than by present consciousness. One of its most ethereal charms lay in the transitory life of the wine's richest qualities; for while it required a certain leisure and delay, yet if you lingered too long in the draught, it became disenchanted both of its fragrance and flavour. The lustre and colour should not be forgotten among the other good qualities of the Monte Beni wine, for "as it stood in Kenyon's glass, a little circle of light glowed on the table around about it as if it were really so much golden sunshine."

There are few wines worthy of this beautiful eloquence of Hawthorne. The description bears transportation; the wine did not. The transportation of even a few miles turned it sour. That is the trouble with Italian wines. Monte Pulciano and Chianti do bear transportation. Italy sends much of the latter wine to New York. Italy has, however, never produced a really good dry wine, with all its vineyards.

The dark Grignolino wine grown in the vineyards of Asterau and Monferrato possesses the remarkable quality of keeping better if diluted with fresh water.

The Falernian from the Bay of Naples, is the wine of the poets, nor need we remind the classical scholar that the hills around Rome were formerly supposed to produce it.

The loose, volcanic soil about Mount Vesuvius grows the grapes from which Lacryma Christi is produced. It is sometimes of a rich red colour, though white and sparkling varieties are produced.

The Italians are supremely fond ofal frescoentertainments,—their fine climate making out-of-door eating very agreeable. How many a traveller remembers the breakfast or dinner in a vine-coveredloggiaoverhanging some splendid scene! It forms the subject of many a picture, from those which illustrate the stories of Boccaccio up to the beautiful sketch of Tasso, at the court of the Duc d'Este. The dangers of these feasts have been immortalized in verse and prose from Dante down, and Shakspeare has touched upon them twice. George Eliot describes one in a "loggiajoining on a garden, with all one side of the room open, and with numerous groups of trees and statues and avenues of box, high enough to hide an assassin," in her wonderful novel of Romola. In modern days, since the Borgias are all killed, no one need fear to eat out-of-doors in Italy.

Not much can be said of the cookery of Spain. In the principal hotels of Spain one gets all the evils of both Spanish and Gascon cookery. Garlic is the favourite flavour, and the bad oil expressed from the olive, skin, seed and all, allowed to stand until it is rancid, is beloved of the Spanish, but hated by all other nations. I believe, however, that anolla podridamade in a Spanish house is very good. It may not be inappropriate here to give two recipes for macaroni. The first,macaroniau gratinis very rarely found good in an American house:—

Break two ounces of best Italian macaroni into a pint of highly seasoned stock, let it simmer until very tender. When done, toss it up with a small piece of butter, and add pepper and salt to taste; put in a large meat dish, sift over it some fried bread-crumbs, and serve. It will take about an hour to cook, and should be covered with the stock all the time.Macaroni with Parmesan cheese: Boil two ounces of macaroni in half a pint of water, with an ounce of butter, until perfectly tender. If the water evaporates add a little more, taking care that the macaroni does not stick to the stewpan, or become broken. When it is done, drain away the water and stir in two ounces of good cheese grated, cayenne pepper and salt to taste. Keep stirring until the cheese is dissolved. Pour on to a hot dish and serve. A little butter may be stirred into the macaroni before the cheese, and is an improvement.

Macaroni with Parmesan cheese: Boil two ounces of macaroni in half a pint of water, with an ounce of butter, until perfectly tender. If the water evaporates add a little more, taking care that the macaroni does not stick to the stewpan, or become broken. When it is done, drain away the water and stir in two ounces of good cheese grated, cayenne pepper and salt to taste. Keep stirring until the cheese is dissolved. Pour on to a hot dish and serve. A little butter may be stirred into the macaroni before the cheese, and is an improvement.

Through the Riviera, and indeed in the south of France, one meets with many peculiar dishes. No one who has read Thackeray need be reminded ofbouillabaise, that famous fish chowder of Marseilles. It is, however, only our chowder with much red pepper. A cook can try it if she chooses, and perhaps achieve it after many failures.

There are so many very good dishes awaiting the efforts of a young American housewife, that she need not go out of her way to extemporize or explore. The best cook-book for foreign dishes is still the old Francatelli.

The presence in our midst of Italian warehouses, adds an infinite resource to the housewife. Those stimulants to the appetite calledhors d'œuvres, we call them relishes, are much increased by studying the list ofItalian delicacies. Anchovy or caviar, potted meat, grated tongue, potted cheese, herring salad, the inevitable olive, and many other delicacies could be mentioned which aid digestion, and make the plainest table inexpensively luxurious. The Italians have all sorts of delicate vegetables preserved in bottles, mixed and ready for use in ajardinièredressing; also the best of cheeses,gargonzala, and of course the truffle, which they know how to cook so well.

The Italians have conquered the art of cooking in oil, so that you do not taste the oil. It is something to live for, to eat their fried things.

Speaking of the south of Europe reminds us of that wonderful bit of orientalism out of place, which is called Algiers, and which France has enamelled on her fabulous and many-coloured shield. Algiers has become not only a winter watering-place, high in favour with the traveller, but it is a great wine-growing country. The official statement of Lieut. Col. Sir R. L. Playfair, her Majesty's consul-general, may be read with interest, dated 1889:

"Viticulture in Algeria, was in 1778 in its infancy; now nearly one hundred and twenty-five thousand acres are under cultivation with vines, and during the last year about nine hundred thousand hectolitres of wine were produced. In 1873 Mr. Eyre Ledyard, an English cultivator of the vine in Algeria, bought the property of Chateau Hydra near Algiers. He found on it five acres of old and badly planted vineyards, which produced about seven hogsheads of wine. He has extended this vineyard and carried on his work with great intelligence and industry. He cultivates the following varieties: the Mourvedie, of a red colour resembling Burgundy, Cariguan, giving a wine good, dark, and rough, Alicante orGrenache, Petit Bouschet, Cabernot and Côt, a Burgundy, Perian Lyra, Aramen, and St. Saux.

Chasselas succeeds well; the grapes are exported to France for the table.

Clairette produces abundantly and makes a good dry wine. Ainin Kelb, more correctly Ain Kelb, dog's-eye, is an Arab grape which makes a good strong wine, but which requires keeping. Muscat is a capricious bearer. From the two last-named varieties, sweet as well as dry wines are produced by adding large quantities of alcohol to the juice of the grape, and thus preventing fermentation. The crops yield quantities varying from seven hundred gallons per acre in rich land to four hundred on the hillside, except Cariguan which yields more. Aramen yields as much, but the quality is inferior.

The red wines are sent to Bordeaux and Burgundy, to give strength and quality to the French clarets, as they are very useful for blending. The dry, white wine is rather stronger and fuller than that of France or Germany, and is much used to give additional value to the thinner qualities of Rhine wine.

The cellars of Château Hydra, are now probably the best in the colony. They are excavated in the soft rock here incorrectly called tufa, in reality an aggregation of minutely pulverized shells; it is soft and sandy, and easily excavated. The surface becomes harder by exposure to the atmosphere, and it is not subject to crumbling.

Mr. Ledyard has excavated extensive cells in this rock, in which extreme evenness of temperature is ensured,—a condition most necessary for the proper manufacture of wine.

Mr. Eyre Ledyard's vineyards and cellars of theChateau Hydra estate are now farmed by theSociété Anonyme Viticole et Vinicole d'Hydra, of which Mr. Ledyard is chairman. These wines have been so successfully shipped to England and other countries that the company now buys grapes largely from the best vineyards, in order to make sufficient wines to meet the demand. The Hydra Company supplies wine to all vessels of the Ocean Company going to India and China. A very carefully prepared quinine white wine is made for invalids, and for use in countries where there is fever. I especially recommend a trial of this last excellent wine to Americans, as it is most agreeable as well as healthful. The postal address is M. Le Gerant, Hydra Caves, Birmandreis, Algiers.

All the stories of Algiers read like tales of the Arabian Nights, and none is more poetic than the names and the story of these delicious wines.

The Greek wines are well spoken of in Europe: Santorin, and Zante, and St. Elié, and Corinth, and Mount Hymettus, Vino Santo, and Cyprus, while from Magyar vineyards come Visontaè, Badescony, Dioszeg, Bakator, Rust, Szamorodni, Oedenburger, Ofner, and Tokay.

The Hungarian wines are very heady. He must be a swashbuckler who drinks them. They are said to make the drinker grow fat. To this unhappy class Brillat Savarin gives the following precepts:—

"Drink every summer thirty bottles of seltzer water, a large tumbler the first thing in the morning, another before lunch, and the same at bedtime.

"Drink white wines, especially those which are light and acid, and avoid beer as you would the plague. Ask frequently for radishes, artichokes with hot sauce, asparagus, celery; choose veal and fowl rather than beef andmutton, and eat as little of the crumb of bread as possible.

"Avoid macaroni and pea soup, avoid farinaceous food under whatever form it assumes, and dispense with all sweets. At breakfast take brown bread, and chocolate rather than coffee."

Indeed Brillat Savarin seems to have inspired this later poet:—

"Talk of the nectar that flowed for celestialsRicher in headaches it was than hilarity!Well for us animals, frequently bestials,Hebe destroyed the recipe as a charity!Once I could empty my glass with the best of 'em,Somehow my system has suffered a shock o' late;Now I shun spirits, wine, beer, and the rest of 'em,Fill me, then fill me, a bumper of chocolate."Once I drank logwood, and quassia and turpentine,Liqueurs with coxcubes, aloes, and gentian in,Sure, 't is no wonder my path became serpentine,Getting a state I should blush now to mention in.Farewell to Burgundy, farewell to Sillery,I have not tasted a drop e'en of Hock o' late,Long live the kettle, my dear old distillery,Fill me, oh fill me, a bumper of chocolate."

"Talk of the nectar that flowed for celestials

Richer in headaches it was than hilarity!

Well for us animals, frequently bestials,

Hebe destroyed the recipe as a charity!

Once I could empty my glass with the best of 'em,

Somehow my system has suffered a shock o' late;

Now I shun spirits, wine, beer, and the rest of 'em,

Fill me, then fill me, a bumper of chocolate.

"Once I drank logwood, and quassia and turpentine,Liqueurs with coxcubes, aloes, and gentian in,Sure, 't is no wonder my path became serpentine,Getting a state I should blush now to mention in.Farewell to Burgundy, farewell to Sillery,I have not tasted a drop e'en of Hock o' late,Long live the kettle, my dear old distillery,Fill me, oh fill me, a bumper of chocolate."

"Once I drank logwood, and quassia and turpentine,

Liqueurs with coxcubes, aloes, and gentian in,

Sure, 't is no wonder my path became serpentine,

Getting a state I should blush now to mention in.

Farewell to Burgundy, farewell to Sillery,

I have not tasted a drop e'en of Hock o' late,

Long live the kettle, my dear old distillery,

Fill me, oh fill me, a bumper of chocolate."

As we cannot all drink chocolate, I recommend the carefully prepared white wine, with quinine in it, which comes from Chateau Hydra in Algiers, or some of the Italian wines, Barolo for instance, or the excellent native wines which are produced in Savoy.

About Aix les Bains, where the cuisine is the best in Europe, many wines are manufactured which are honest wines with no headaches in them.

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