ket and plunge in deep lard, iry'mg until golden brown. Arrange on a deep platter and pour over them the fol- lowing sauce: Put in the blazer a tablespoonful of butter and braid into it a tablespoonful of flour✪ Kidneys and Mushrooms, which should gently brown. Add one-half cup- ful of Italian white wine and a half-can of bouillon, salt, and cayenne. After boiling about fifteen minutes add a teaspoonful each of chopped chives, parsley, a few stoned olives, and as many mushrooms as you think it will stand. Bring to a boil and serve piping hot with Chianti, or, better still, Brachetto SpumantI or Lachrima Christi. 112 CHAPTER XII "Good living is due to that action oftte judgment by which things that please our taste are preferable to all others."— Savarin. In the Bachelor's Cupboard there are many condiments. The epicure has so cultivated his taste that he can tell in the twinkling of an eye just what ones are used in the prep- aration of a dish, just what it lacks, or, perchance, if there be too much of one seasoning. By his knowledge and apprecia- tion of condiments is the epicure rec- ognized ; insipidity of taste goes with lack of character, and the greatest of dullards satisfies himself with the simplest of foods. To be an epicure does not necessarily mean that a man must be possessed of means; for, as Savarin tells us, " the pleasures of the table are common to all ranks and ages, to all countries and times; 113 A BACHELOR'S CUPBOARD Concerning Condiments they not only harmonize with other pleasures, but re- main to console us for their loss." The discovery of a new dish, he says, does more than the discovery of si planet for the happiness of the human race. The true epicure has an intuitive knowledge of taste. He can tell immediately as the cover is lifted from a dish, by the aroma, just what the seasonings are. And his knowledge of the condiments of all nations is positively uncanny, and suggests more than one reincarnation. An authority on curries, a dis- serter on culinary arts of the time of Confucius and Pliny, he can tell of the last feast served in Pompeii and what Nero last drank and how Napoleon fared at St. Helena. He can recite a list of the dishes at a feast of Lucullus, and tell precisely how many orto- lans were sacrificed for it, the age of a ripe oilve, and the vintage of a claret, by its bouquet. The deriva- tion of each seasoning and the country of its discovery are as simple to him as the rule of three ; and there is to him the same delight in dissecting a dish and in rem- iniscing on its origin as there is to the Egyptologist in deciphering some graven stone found in a long-closed tomb. The bachelor who is or expects to be an epicure may begin with a few simple facts about condiments, and from this knowledge cull an appreciation for things epicurean that will enable him to become a self- taught Sybarite of the deepest dye. The bourgeoisie of France teach us that it is not the quality of the meat, 114 A BACHELOR'S CUPBOARD Concerning Condiments but its seasoning, that gives it that perfection we recog- nize. A five-penny soup bone may attain by judicious seasoning at the hand of the French jemme de cuisine the dignity of a plat at the Cafe Royale.

AI-modernized reading of the original text

ket and plunge in deep lard, frying until golden brown. Arrange on a deep platter and pour over them the following sauce: Put in the blazer a tablespoonful of butter and blend into it a tablespoonful of flour, which should gently brown. Add one-half cupful of Italian white wine and a half-can of bouillon, salt, and cayenne. After boiling about fifteen minutes add a teaspoonful each of chopped chives, parsley, a few stoned olives, and as many mushrooms as you think it will stand. Bring to a boil and serve piping hot with Chianti, or, better still, Brachetto SpumantI or Lachrima Christi. CHAPTER XII "Good living is due to that action oftte judgment by which things that please our taste are preferable to all others."— Savarin. In the Bachelor's Cupboard there are many condiments. The epicure has so cultivated his taste that he can tell in the twinkling of an eye just what ones are used in the preparation of a dish, just what it lacks, or, perchance, if there be too much of one seasoning. By his knowledge and appreciation of condiments is the epicure recognized ; insipidity of taste goes with lack of character, and the greatest of dullards satisfies himself with the simplest of foods. To be an epicure does not necessarily mean that a man must be possessed of means; for, as Savarin tells us, " the pleasures of the table are common to all ranks and ages, to all countries and times; Concerning Condiments they not only harmonize with other pleasures, but remain to console us for their loss." The discovery of a new dish, he says, does more than the discovery of si planet for the happiness of the human race. The true epicure has an intuitive knowledge of taste. He can tell immediately as the cover is lifted from a dish, by the aroma, just what the seasonings are. And his knowledge of the condiments of all nations is positively uncanny, and suggests more than one reincarnation. An authority on curries, a disserter on culinary arts of the time of Confucius and Pliny, he can tell of the last feast served in Pompeii and what Nero last drank and how Napoleon fared at St. Helena. He can recite a list of the dishes at a feast of Lucullus, and tell precisely how many ortolans were sacrificed for it, the age of a ripe oilve, and the vintage of a claret, by its bouquet. The derivation of each seasoning and the country of its discovery are as simple to him as the rule of three ; and there is to him the same delight in dissecting a dish and in reminiscing on its origin as there is to the Egyptologist in deciphering some graven stone found in a long-closed tomb. The bachelor who is or expects to be an epicure may begin with a few simple facts about condiments, and from this knowledge cull an appreciation for things epicurean that will enable him to become a selftaught Sybarite of the deepest dye. The bourgeoisie of France teach us that it is not the quality of the meat, Concerning Condiments but its seasoning, that gives it that perfection we recognize. A five-penny soup bone may attain by judicious seasoning at the hand of the French jemme de cuisine the dignity of a plat at the Cafe Royale.

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Eggs a la MessinaKidneys and Mushrooms

A bachelors cupboard