=Lettuce Salad.=—Take a good-sized head of lettuce and pull the leaves

apart. Wash them a moment in a little water, then shake off the water

and dry the leaves in a napkin by taking hold of the four corners and

shaking it. Examine them carefully, wipe off all grit, and reject all

bruised leaves; place them in a salad-bowl large enough to dress them in

nicely without scattering a part of them over the table. Mix one

salt-spoonful of salt, one salt-spoonful of fresh ground pepper, and a

dust of cayenne with a tablespoonful of oil in a salad spoon; pour this

over the lettuce, and add two more tablespoonfuls of oil; next toss the

salad lightly with a salad spoon and fork, and, lastly, add a

tablespoonful of vinegar; toss it gently once or twice and send to

table. _To be eaten at once._ Never cut lettuce. Should you wish to

divide the leaves tear them apart gently. But it is not always necessary

to tear the leaves, should they appear too large to eat gracefully. With

the assistance of your knife you can wrap the leaf round the end of your

fork so as to make a small ball of it, and eat it with a little more

elegance than your neighbor, who is trying his level best to get the

leaf into his mouth edgeways.

=Plain French Dressing.=—A plain French dressing is made of salt,

pepper, oil, and vinegar, and nothing else. Three tablespoonfuls of oil

to one of vinegar, salt-spoon heaping full of salt, an even

salt-spoonful of pepper mixed with a little cayenne.

=Plain English Dressing.=—Same as plain French dressing, with a

teaspoonful of made English mustard added.

=Bacon Dressing.=—Cut half a pound of bacon fat into slices, then into

very small pieces, and fry them until the oil extracted is a light

brown; remove the pan from the fire and add the juice of a lemon, one

wineglassful of strong vinegar, a salt-spoonful of pepper, and pour it

over the salad with the pieces of bacon. A very nice dressing when you

cannot get oil, etc.

=Summer Mayonnaise.=—Chop up the yolk and white of a hard-boiled egg

very fine, and sprinkle it over a salad. Mix a plain French dressing in

a cold soup-plate, and pour over the egg and salad, and mix all

together.

=Sauce Vinaigrette.=—Mix a plain French dressing, and add to it a

quarter of an onion chopped fine, a teaspoonful of chopped parsley or

pickle.

Don’t like the onion? Then add a few Godillot capers.

=Mayonnaise Sauce.=—Work the yolks of two raw eggs to a smooth paste,

and add two salt-spoonfuls of Royal Table Salt, half a salt-spoonful of

cayenne, a salt-spoonful of dry mustard, and a teaspoonful of oil; mix

these ingredients thoroughly and add the strained juice of half a lemon.

Take the remainder of half a pint of Virgin olive-oil and add it

gradually, a teaspoonful at a time, and every fifth teaspoonful add a

few drops of lemon-juice until you have used two lemons and the

half-pint of oil.

There are almost as many ways of making a Mayonnaise sauce as there are

of cooking eggs.

=Mayonnaise Sauce, No. 2.=—Rub the yolks of three hard-boiled eggs with

the yolk of one raw egg to a smooth paste; add a heaping teaspoonful of

salt, two salt-spoonfuls of white pepper, and two salt-spoonfuls of made

mustard; mix thoroughly and work a gill of oil gradually into the

mixture, alternated with a teaspoonful of tarragon vinegar until you

have used three tablespoonfuls of vinegar. Should the sauce appear too

thick add a wineglassful of cream gradually.

=Lobster Salad.=—Tear the meat of the lobster into shreds with two

forks; remove the eggs (_if a hen lobster_) from the fins; scrape out

all the green fat from the shell and set it aside. Prepare for making a

Mayonnaise by working a tablespoonful of the fat into a smooth paste;

let this green fat, with the yolk of one raw egg and one hard-boiled

egg, be the basis of your Mayonnaise; in all other particulars follow

instruction for Mayonnaise sauce. When complete mix the lobster meat

with three tablespoonfuls of the sauce. Cover the bottom of a dish or

compot with lettuce (the large leaves tear in two), put a layer of

lobster upon it; next add a layer of celery cut into narrow-inch strips,

and another layer of lobster; arrange it neatly on the dish; sprinkle

the eggs or the chopped coral on the lettuce round the edges; pour the

sauce over the meat, garnish with lobster-legs, and serve.

Somebody sent to the Washington _Republic’s_ correspondent, “G. H. B.,”

while he was laid up in Providence hospital with the gout, a very fine

lobster, and this is what he did with it: “Now, I’ll tell you about that

lobster. I had him laid away tenderly in the ice-chest, and directed him

to appear at dinner with some leaves of lettuce and a raw egg. The yolk

of that egg I mingled, with slow, deliberate revolutions of a fork, with

mustard, red pepper, salt, and oil. When the paste was thick enough to

take up on the end of the fork like dough I thinned it—‘cut it’ is

technical—with vinegar, and there was my dressing. I planted a table

facing the snow-storm, at which I mocked and jeered in a temperature of

seventy degrees Fahrenheit. Then did I disrobe the ‘Cardinal of the

Seas’ (you remember the Frenchman who applied that to lobsters, thinking

they came from the ocean red?) of his vestments, and by the aid of a

long pickle-spoon placed all that was in him on the plate. His legs I

chewed up. Then I ate him, and watched the many industrious,

hard-working fathers of families trudging by in the snow, who had no

lobster, and couldn’t have dressed him if they had. Then I finished up

on some sponge-cake and custard, ate two apples with a sprinkle of salt,

lit my pipe, and in its smoke framed beautiful porcelain figures

engraven with Chinese characters and Hindoo idols. That’s what I did

with that lobster. He was a prime one and very much interested the

Sisters.”

=Chicken Salad.=—Cut up a cold boiled chicken into neat strips or

pieces, and mix with it an equal quantity of celery. Cut the

celery-stalks into inch pieces, and cut each piece into long strips; mix

them together with a few spoonfuls of Mayonnaise; arrange neatly upon a

dish garnished with lettuce, parsley, or hard-boiled egg, pour the

remainder of the sauce over the meat, and serve.

=Veal Salad.=—Boil a nice lean piece of veal with a chicken or turkey,

saving the water in which they were boiled to make a soup, and serving

the fowl for dinner with egg or oyster sauce. When cold cut it up into

neat strips, mix it with celery or lettuce, pour Mayonnaise over it, and

serve.

The custom of pickling the pieces, etc., of fowl before mixing them in a

salad does not take well with Americans.

=Herring Salad.=—Soak four Holland herrings in water or milk for three

hours; then cut them up into neat, square pieces and set them aside; cut

up into slices nearly three quarts of boiled potatoes while they are

hot, and pour over them Rhine wine enough to moisten them; cover close,

and when cold add the herrings and the yolks of four hard-boiled eggs

chopped fine; crush a dozen whole peppers in a napkin, add to the salad,

and mix. If milt herrings are used pound the milt to a paste, moisten it

with vinegar, and pour over the salad.

If roe herring are used, separate the eggs neatly and sprinkle them over

the salad, and serve.

I know a number of my German friends who will say, “Ah! that is not a

herring salad.” Where are the apples, the capers, beets, pickles, etc.?

But the only answer I can make them is that the majority of our German

brethren make an Italian or a Russian salad and call it a herring salad.

=Potato Salad.=—Cut up three quarts of boiled potatoes, _while hot_,

into neat pieces, and add to them a tablespoonful of chopped parsley, a

tablespoonful of chopped onion, a teaspoonful of pepper, and one of

salt; add a cupful of oil, and mix; then add a cupful of warm stock, a

wineglassful of vinegar (from the mixed-pickle bottle), mix the

ingredients together carefully, and do not break the potato any more

than is absolutely necessary; set it in the ice-box, and when cold serve

by placing a leaf of lettuce on a side-dish, and put two spoonfuls of

the salad upon the lettuce. The onion and parsley may be omitted, and

boiled root celery added, or a little stalk celery chopped fine. You

cannot make a perfect potato salad with cold boiled potatoes. Most

cook-books recommend them, but that soggy, peculiar taste cannot be

removed or destroyed by all the condiments in the cruet-stand. A salad

prepared while the potatoes are hot will look more appetizing and will

keep three or four days, while cold boiled potatoes will turn a black,

uninviting color, and turn sour the second day.

=Turnip Tops.=—When turnips placed in the cellar begin to sprout they

are usually thrown away, but the housekeeper of experience will tell you

that a bushel of turnips will furnish her family with a salad all

winter, and a very good one if properly prepared.

Place the bushel of turnips in a dark, warm cellar to sprout, and when

the sprouts are three or four inches long cut them off; pick the leaves

from the stems, and pour hot water over them; let them remain in the hot

water a moment, then plunge them into cold water; place the sprouts in

the colander to drain off all the water, and send to table with a plain

dressing or bacon dressing poured over them.

=Asparagus Salad.=—Boil the asparagus, and take it from the hot water

and plunge it into cold water to give it firmness; drain off the water,

and send to table with sauce Vinaigrette or plain French dressing.

=Hop Sprouts.=—The hop-growers pull up all but two or three sprouts from

a hill of hops, and throw them away; the few that remain in the hill are

supposed to do duty as pole-climbers. Gather a small basketful of the

rejected sprouts; take them home; boil them in salted water a few

minutes, then plunge them into cold water; drain off all the water, and

serve with a plain French dressing, bacon dressing, or sauce

Vinaigrette.

If you eat asparagus you will like hop sprouts.

=Cucumber Salad.=—Peel and slice the cucumbers as thin as possible; put

the slices in salted water five minutes, then draw off the water; cover

them with vinegar, half a teaspoonful of pepper, and salt if necessary.

=Cucumber and Tomato Salad.=—Peel and slice a five-inch cucumber into

very thin slices; put them in a bowl with half a teaspoonful of salt and

two tablespoonfuls of vinegar; set it aside and mix a plain English

dressing.

Take one large or two small-sized tomatoes, scald them a moment, remove

the skin and put them in cold water a few minutes to cool; line the

salad-bowl with lettuce, drain the cucumbers from the pickle and put

them in the bowl; wipe the tomatoes and cut them into slices; put them

on top of the cucumber, pour the dressing over it, and serve.

OFFICE WESTERN UNION TELEGRAPH COMPANY, }

HARRISBURG, PENN., April 16, 1879. }

_Mr. Murrey, Caterer Continental Hotel, Philadelphia_:

Send by express, to-morrow, one hundred Murrey salad sandwiches.

HENRY M. HOYT, _Governor_.

=Murrey’s Salad Sandwich.=—Cut up four ounces of breast of boiled

chicken and four ounces of tongue, place them in a mortar, and pound

them to a paste; add two salt-spoonfuls of celery-salt, a pinch of

cayenne, a teaspoonful of anchovy paste, and four tablespoonfuls of

Mayonnaise; put the mixture on a cold dish, and set it aside.

Take a few neat leaves of lettuce, dip each leaf in a little tarragon

vinegar, shake it, and place it on a slice of bread; spread a layer of

the prepared meat over the lettuce, then another leaf of lettuce over

the meat, and the other slice of bread, and your sandwich is made. Trim

off the crust, cut each sandwich in two, and fold each piece neatly in

confectionery (oiled) paper.

Ham and veal make a nice salad sandwich. The meat may be spread on the

bread and the lettuce in the centre, if preferred.

=Muskmelon Salad.=—Should you be so unfortunate as to receive an

insipid, over-ripe melon, do not send it from the table, but scoop it

out on your plate with a spoon, pour a French dressing over it, and you

will thank me for the suggestion.

=Alligator-Pear Salad.=—This tropical fruit, that tastes something like

our chestnuts, is beginning to find favor among us, but care should be

used in selecting the fruit. The green colored fruit is the best; the

black, over-ripe fruit is useless. Cut the pear in two, remove the large

seed, cut away the outer rind, then cut the fruit into strips and season

with a salt-spoonful of salt, two tablespoonfuls best Virgin olive-oil,

a teaspoonful of tarragon vinegar—nothing else.

=Salt.=—Of all the condiments now in use salt is the most essential. The

health of every individual depends upon it, and it is as much required

as food or drink; therefore the salt question is an important one to

families. Do not buy salt so fine as to cake in the salt-cellar, for it

is almost useless; nor use a very coarse salt; a happy medium is the

thing. What is known to the trade as Royal Table Salt is the proper

fineness and best adapted for hotels and family use.

=Mushrooms.=—I have purposely avoided introducing mushrooms into my

receipts on account of the expense attached, but where the expense is

only a secondary consideration they may be used indiscriminately. Of the

French canned mushrooms the A. Godillot’s brand gives the best

satisfaction, being put up and sealed at the source of supply, and,

therefore, their natural flavors are preserved. Our field mushrooms are

very nice when fresh, cooked in any form. To distinguish them from the

poisonous fungi, “A Constant Reader,” writing to the London _Times_,

says: “I venture to send you a simple test of the mushroom, which I have

practised for many years, and for which I am indebted to an old

herbalist. Before peeling the mushroom pass a gold ring backwards and

forwards on the skin of the mushroom; should the bruise thus caused turn

yellow or orange color the mushroom is poisonous, but otherwise it is

quite safe. I have tried repeated baskets of mushrooms in this way, some

turning yellow and others retaining the usual color, though in all other

respects to all appearance the same.”

Forney’s _Progress_ on mushrooms:

He saw a fellow gathering mushrooms, and he knew they were the poisonous

kind.

“Take care,” he said, “those mushrooms are poisonous.”

“Oh! that makes no difference,” replied the man. “I am not going to eat

them; I’m gathering them for market.”

=The Mystery of making Loaf Bread—A Trustworthy Receipt.=—“Loaf bread,”

once said an experienced housekeeper to us, “interferes with the

salvation of more housekeepers than any other one thing in the world.”

This was probably an extravagant statement, yet to the country housewife

who cannot turn to a convenient bakery the duty of breadmaking is too

often a heavy cross—a sort of hit-or-miss experiment. Heavy, sour bread

is far more general than the opposite, and this is trying to both the

digestions and to the tempers of the family who eat it. Yet there is no

reason for this; there is a philosophy of breadmaking as of everything

else, and certain causes accomplish certain results. Therefore we are

glad to be able to give a receipt from a practical housekeeper whose

bread _never_ fails: To make two quarts of bread or rolls take four or

five nice, large Irish potatoes, peel and cut them up, and put them to

boil in just enough water to cover them. When done mash smooth in the

same water, and when _cool_, not _cold_, add a half-teacupful of

yeast—or, if you use compressed yeast, the sixth part of a cake

dissolved in tepid water—a dessert-spoonful of sugar, a little salt, a

tablespoonful of lard, and a pint of flour. Mix together lightly. This

should be very soft and quite sticky. Set by in a covered vessel in a

warm place to rise. In two or three hours it will be risen, and should

look almost like yeast, full of bubbles. Now work in the rest of your

two quarts of flour, and, if necessary, add a little cold water. The

dough should be rather soft and need not be kneaded more than half an

hour. Set to rest in a moderately warm place for four hours or

thereabouts. It can be baked now if wanted at once, but, if not, take a

spoon and push the dough down from the top and sides of the vessel

containing it, and let it rise again. The oftener the bread rises the

lighter it will be—three times is, however, sufficient. After it rises

the last time take it out of the vessel and knead it with your hands

until it is smooth. If too soft add a little more flour. For rolls, roll

out and cut as if for biscuit. If you prefer doubled rolls give each a

touch with the rolling-pin to make it oblong, and then double it over.

The baking-pan must be greased and the rolls must not touch each other.

Set down to rise; this will take half or three-quarters of an hour. Then

put in the oven and bake as you would biscuit. Unless the oven is _hot_

the rolls will spread and the crust be hard.—_Col. McClure’s

Philadelphia Times._

=Wheat Bread.=—Put seven pounds of flour into a bread-pan, hollow out

the centre, and add a quart of lukewarm water, a teaspoonful of salt,

and a wineglassful of yeast. Have ready more warm water, and add

gradually as much as will make a smooth, soft dough. Knead it well; dust

a little flour over it, cover it with a cloth, and set it in a warm

place for four hours; then knead it again for fifteen minutes and let it

rise again. Divide it into loaves and bake in a quick oven.

=Corn Bread.=—Sift three quarts of corn meal, add a tablespoonful of

salt, and mix sufficient water with it to make a very thin batter. Cover

it with a bread-cloth and set it to rise. When ready to bake stir it

well, pour it into a baking-pan, and bake slowly. Use cold water in

summer and hot water in winter.

=Continental Hotel Corn Bread.=—Sift together a pound and a half wheat

flour, one pound Indian meal, two ounces Royal Baking Powder, and a

tablespoonful salt. Beat together three ounces of sugar, three ounces of

butter, and four eggs; add the mixture to the flour, and make a stiff

batter by adding warm milk if in winter, cold milk in summer. Bake in

small square moulds.

=Continental Hotel Muffins.=—Mix two and a half pounds flour, three

ounces Royal Baking Powder, and tablespoonful salt. Beat up three ounces

of sugar, three ounces butter, and four eggs together; add to the flour,

make a batter with milk, half fill the muffin-rings, and bake in a quick

oven.

=Boston Brown Bread.=—Sift together thoroughly half a pint of flour, one

pint corn meal, half a pint rye flour, one teaspoonful salt, one

tablespoonful brown sugar, and two teaspoonfuls baking powder. Peel,

wash, and boil two mealy potatoes; rub them through the sieve, diluting

with half a pint of water. When this is quite cold use it to make a

batter and pour it into a well-greased mould having a cover. Place it in

a saucepan of boiling water. Simmer one hour without the water getting

into it; take it out of the water, remove the cover, and finish cooking

by baking about thirty minutes.

=Steamed Brown Bread.=—One quart each of milk and Indian meal, one pint

of rye meal, one cup of molasses, two teaspoonfuls of soda. Add a little

salt and steam four hours.

M. G. H.

=Milk Biscuit.=—Take one-fourth of a pound butter, one quart lukewarm

milk, two wineglassfuls yeast, salt to taste, and as much flour as will

form the dough. Stir flour into the milk to make a thick batter, and add

the yeast. This should be done in the evening. Next morning melt the

butter and pour it into the sponge; add flour enough to make a stiff

dough; knead it well and set it aside to rise. When perfectly light roll

it out an inch thick and cut the biscuits, set them in shallow

baking-pans, and set them in a moderately warm place to rise. When they

are light brush beaten egg over them and bake in a quick oven.

=Corn Cakes.=—Scrape twelve ears of corn, use two eggs, one and one-half

cups of milk, salt and pepper to taste, and flour enough to hold all

together. Fry in hot fat.

M. G. H.

=Fried Bread Cakes.=—Add half a cupful of melted butter, three of “A”

sugar, four eggs, teaspoonful of salt, and a little grated nutmeg to

five cupfuls of dough. Knead these well together with flour, and set it

before the fire to rise until very light. Knead the dough again after it

rises, and cut it into diamond or crescent shaped cakes; let them rise,

and fry them in boiling fat.

=Pies.=—Pie, and the extent to which it is consumed in this country,

have long been a subject upon which Europeans travelling here have

exercised their descriptive and imaginative powers. It seems to be a

cardinal belief on the other side that no meal is furnished here without

a superabundance of pie; that, even at the best inns and restaurants in

New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, pie is devoured at breakfast,

luncheon, dinner, and supper; that no American would sit down to a table

where he could not see plenty of pie; that all the States are closely

connected and bound together by a prejudice in favor of pie; that it was

love of pie rather than force of patriotism which, in the civil war,

preserved the Union. Sala is one of the latest Englishmen to descant on

the omnipresence and national omnivorousness of pie. He devotes ample

space to it in one of his recent letters to the London _Telegraph_;

admits that he has eaten it, and that it is so very toothsome that it is

difficult to resist its temptations. He has done what a great many of

our own people never do. Hundreds of families in this and in other

cities do not see a pie from beginning to end of the year. Thousands of

natives have never tasted pie. In the large towns of the Middle States

it is but seldom put on the table. New England, indeed, is the region to

which pie is indigenous, though even there it is confined mainly to the

rural districts. It appears odd, however, that Englishmen should so

animadvert on our pies, as if they had never tasted or heard of such

things. They have any quantity of pies at home, but these are meat pies,

commonly of pork and mutton, and as hostile to gastric conditions as bad

pastry and poor baking can conveniently make them. They have, too, any

number of fruit pies, giving them the name of tarts, not to be compared

with our pies. The gooseberry tart, almost as much a British dish as

plum-pudding, is eaten from Cornwall to Northumberland, and that its

eaters survive it proves the strength and elasticity of the national

stomach. It is usually as heavy as lead and a guarantee of indigestion.

The French also have numberless pies under the disguise of _tartes_, but

no better than, often not so good as, ours. In truth, the American pie

is widely prevalent in the Old World, where, as a rule, it is inferior

to the native article.

NEW YORK TIMES.

=Puff Paste.=—Good sweet, salt butter, which has been washed in cold

water, squeezed between the hands to free it from the salt, and

afterwards wrung in a cloth to take away all the moisture, is the best

material that can be used. The consistency of the butter is of much

importance. If it is too hard it will not easily mix with the flour, but

if it is too soft the paste will be entirely spoilt in consequence of

the butter breaking through the edges while it is being rolled. As the

difficulty experienced is generally to get the butter sufficiently cool,

it is a good plan to place it upon ice before using it for the pastry.

In hot weather the paste should be placed in a cool place a few minutes

between each turn. If very flaky pastry is required, the paste may be

brushed lightly over each time it is rolled with white of egg. Sift one

pound of flour; put it on the pastry-board. Make a hole in the centre;

add half a teaspoonsful salt and little less than half a pint of

ice-water. The exact quantity of water cannot be given, owing to the

difference in flour, but experience will soon enable you to determine

when the paste is sufficiently stiff. Mix it in gradually with a knife,

then work it lightly with the hands to form a smooth paste. Have ready

three-quarters of a pound of butter. Flatten the paste till it is an

inch thick; lay the butter in the centre, and fold over the four sides

of the paste so as to form a square and completely hide the butter.

Leave this to cool a few minutes, then dredge the board and the paste

with flour, and roll the paste out very thin, and be especially careful

that the butter does not break through the flour. Fold over a third of

the length from one end, and lay the other third upon it. This folding

into three is called giving one turn. Let the paste rest for a few

minutes, then give it two more turns; rest again, and give it two more.

This will be in all five turns, and these will generally be found

sufficient. If, however, the pastry is to be used for patties, etc., six

or seven turns will be required. Gather the paste together, and it is

ready for use, and should be baked as soon as possible; and remember to

dredge a little flour over it, the board, and rolling-pin every time it

is rolled, to keep it from sticking. French cooks mix the yolks of two

eggs with flour and water in the first instance. If a very rich paste is

required a pound of butter to a pound of flour may be used.

CASSELL.

=Paste.=—One pound of flour, half a pound of butter, half a pound of

lard. With a little water make a dough of the flour and lard; then roll

it; spread a portion of the butter over it; fold and roll again; add

more butter, and so on until you have used the half pound all up.

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