Now, our friend Steevens spoke of griddle cakes and buckwheat cakes.
Of these you know all that is necessary for any housekeeper to know.
But I'll wager a good sum that Rhode Island meal is an unknown
quantity to you. Make its acquaintance then as soon as possible and
set about having Rhode Island johnnycakes often. You will want nothing
but the meal, some milk and salt. Have them considerably thinner than
ordinary flour griddle cakes and fry in a little fat on a hot griddle
so that the edges are crisp and toothsome. If you want to bake them
have a cup of meal to a cup and one-half of milk with a pinch of salt,
and bake in gem pans till brown. Instead of having butter with either
the fried or baked specimens of this johnnycake try some of our
"nectarous cream." Is it a go?
* * * * *
Now and then, throughout this book, the directions for making a salad
are brought in incidentally to the main topic of discourse. Nowhere
are they treated as the _pièce de résistance_, so to speak, of a
chapter. And here are not many--only a few that go especially well in
cold weather, when to have any variety at all in salads incurs a
considerable outlay of rumination. Just a little inventive faculty and
a firm purpose to have your table superior, even in details, to that
of your dearest enemy, and you can with materials on hand in January
have salads that give the eternal chicken and lobster with mayonnaise
the go-by,--though, I fear me, the snubbing in the near future will
come from the lobster itself. But that's not to be discussed at just
this minute.