Paper-bag cookery

people know how very nice smoked and dried fish can be when cooked in a paper-bag and seasoned in the French fashion. Take four dried herrings, bone them, fill the cavities with a little (about half a teaspoonful to each fish) finely minced shallot or chives and parsley. Add a few fresh breadcrumbs and tiny bits of butter. If liked, a tiny grate of nutmeg may be added as well as a good dust of pepper. Put into a well-greased bag, and bake in the oven for 10 minutes. Dish up and serve as hot as possible. Other dried fish are excellent prepared in the same way. Jambon Milanaise. — Take some six slices of either raw ham or breakfast bacon, machine cut if possible, take also half a pint of cold boiled peas, and, if to hand, half a dozen cold boiled new potatoes. Put the slices into the bag and cook them. Then take out and add the peas and the potatoes, the latter first thinly sliced, and cook in the ham fat till very hot. Empty out gently on to a hot dish and pour over the peas half a pint of very hot wellseasoned tomato pulp or tomato catsup, whichever is preferred. The peas and potatoes should be arranged as a border with the slices in the middle. When they can be had half a dozen chicken livers are a great improvement to this dish. THE BAG AND THE BACHELOR HOW A LONELY BARRISTER ENTER- TAINED A GUEST. (BY A COOKERY EXPERT.) He came in with a most gloomy expression, and sat down close, too close, to my desk, where I was up to my eyes in “ paper-bag ” correspondence and in no mood for confidences. “ He,” I must explain, is the youngest brother-in-law, and spoilt, well — spoilt as only a bachelor with a nice profession and a nice income can be. “ Whatever is the matter ? ” I queried, crossly, divided between curiosity and a desire to get on with my work without interruption. “ Baxter has gone,” he said, mournfully. Baxter is his housekeeper, and, according to him, one of the greatest treasures that ever fell to the lot of bachelor. “ Only for a day or two,” he went on. “ But I’ve got ” — and he named a very eminent lawyer indeed, one who has it in his power to distribute briefs galore — “ coming to supper.” And he sighed deeply. “ Take him to a restaurant,” I replied, unfeelingly. “ He won’t restaurant,” said Baxter’s master with bitterness. “ Says they upset his digestion, gastric trouble, and all that. He can only eat white foods, and must have a fruit salad at every meal. Talk of fads!” “ Cook the supper yourself,” I suggested. “ You’ve got an electric stove, you know.” He looked at me as if I had said something most peculiarly heartless. “ Cook it myself ! Oh, come, I say, you might show a little feeling and interest when you see me in such a fix.” “ Paper-bag it,” I went on, calmly, holding one up for inspection. His face lit up. “ Do you think I could ? You see I’ve never cooked since I was a fag at Beaumont.” “ Now look here,” I said, severely. “ If I give you the paper-bags and tell you what to do, will you go away and do it and let me get on with my work ? ” He gave me a most unforensic wink. “ You bet. What a lark! I’ll have Briggs up to help me.” Briggs is his best chum — a most lethargic youth. “ He can watch the things and see they don’t boil over.”