The profession of cookery, from a French point of view

A very delicate and tasty dish of salted codfish is made as follows : To clear the fish from salt it is allowed to lie in water for twenty-four hours; it is then slightly boiled, drained, and broken into flakes. Into the saute pan a few knobs of butter are put to melt, then a little white bread, roughly crumbed, and a teacupful of cold mashed potatoes; these are tossed about with a fork, and a cupful of milk added by degrees, with a good seasoning of pepper ; lastly, the flakes of cod are added, and all well beaten with the fork until it froths; it is then poured out into a hot dish and eaten with strips of toasted bread. A favourite way of cooking flat fish, such as soles or plaice, with French cooks is to do them "au gratin." When so cooked, they should be served in the same dish; a silver one is best, but a bright block tin will answer the purpose. The bottom of the dish is well buttered, and spread with finely-minced herbs, a shallot or two, seasoning, and bread-crumbs. The fish is placed upon this bed, and covered over with the same mixture; then placed in the oven to bake. A glass of white wine is generally added. "Sole à la Normande" is done similarly to the preceding; but a rich sauce, made of melted butter, yolks of eggs, button mushrooms, oysters, and a little lemon-juice and white wine, is poured over the fish before sending to table. It is a truly Epicurean dish. Mackerel and herrings are excellent when split open, boned, and broiled over a clear fire; they are better still if the following sauce be poured over them : Melted butter (slightly thickened with flour), a spoonful of vinegar, the same of Worcestershire sauce, also one of chopped parsley ; pepper and salt to taste. We will now consider the subject of omelettes — one of the easiest things to make, and also one of the easiest to spoil. It is strange how few English cooks seem able to turn out a really good omelette, and yet the veriest "paysanne" in a country cafe in sunny France will make one, at a moment's notice, to satisfy the most critical taste. Let us, in imagination, visit one of these cafes, and watch how the good wife proceeds. Setting a light to her charcoal braisiere, she will wait till the embers are red, then put on her pan, generally a black iron saute pan, kept for this purpose alone ; into this she drops a lump of butter, and while it is melting she breaks her eggs on to a plate, beats them quickly with a knife, and adds salt and pepper to them. When the butter is frothing and turning brown, she pours in the eggs, slips a knife underneath the middle and round the edge, to insure it not sticking to the pan, and as soon as ever it is "set," she "whips" off her pan, claps a hot plate over it, and with a dexterous twist manages to turn it upside down, and remove the pan, leaving the omelette on the plate — light, with a delicate brown crust uppermost. This plain omelette may be varied ad infinitum by adding minced onion, herbs, parsley, mushrooms, cheese, or whatever fancy may dictate.