Cassell's Vegetarian Cookery/eggs

Eggs, Plain Boiled.—There is an old saying that there is reason in the roasting of eggs. This certainly applies equally to the more common process of boiling them. There are few breakfast delicacies more popular than a new-laid egg. There are few breakfast indelicacies more revolting than the doubtful egg which makes its appearance from time to time, and which may be classed under the general heading of “Shop ’uns.” It is a sad and melancholy reflection that these more than doubtful “shop ’uns” were all once new-laid. It is impossible to draw any hard-and-fast line to say at what exact period an egg ceases to be fit for boiling. There is an old tradition, the truth of which we do not endorse, that eggs may arrive at a period when, though they are not fit to be boiled, fried, poached, or hard-boiled, they are still good enough for puddings and pastry. There is no doubt that many good puddings are spoilt because cooks imagine they can use up doubtful eggs.

When eggs are more than doubtful, they are often bought up by the smaller pastry-cooks in cheap and poor neighbourhoods of our large towns, such as the East-End of London. These eggs are called “spot eggs,” and are sold at thirty and forty a shilling. They utilise them as follows: They hold the egg up in front of a bright gas-light, when the small black spot can be clearly seen. This black spot is kept at the lowest point of the egg, i.e., the egg is held so that this black spot is at the bottom. The upper part of the egg is then broken and poured off, the black spot being retained. The moment the smallest streak proceeds from this black spot the pouring-off process is stopped. Of course, the black part is all thrown away, the stench from it being almost intolerable, containing, as it does, sulphuretted hydrogen. We mention the fact for what it is worth. It would be a bold man who tried to lay down any law as to where waste ceases and the use of wrongful material commences. Everything depends upon the circumstances of the case in question. We fear there are many thousands, hundreds of thousands, in this great city of London, whose everyday life more or less compares with that of a shipwrecked crew. They “fain would fill their belly with the husks that the swine do eat, but no man gives unto them.” There is this to be said in favour of vegetarian diet—that, were it universal, grinding poverty would be banished from the earth. We must not cry out too soon about using what some men call bad material. Lord Byron, when he was starving after shipwreck, was glad to make a meal off the paws of his favourite dog, which had been thrown away when the carcase had been used on a former occasion.

The simplest way of boiling eggs is to place them at starting in boiling water, and boil them from three to three and a half to four minutes, according to whether they are liked very lightly boiled, medium, or well-set.

The egg saucepan should be small, so that when the eggs are first plunged in it takes the water off the boil for a few seconds, otherwise the eggs are likely to crack. This applies more particularly to French eggs, which have thin, brittle shells containing an excess of lime, probably due to the large quantity of chalk which is the distinguishing feature of the soil in the Pas de Calais, which is the chief neighbourhood from which French eggs are imported.

Over a million eggs are imported from France to England every day, notwithstanding the fact that thousands are kept awake by the crying of their neighbours’ fowls.

There is a strange delusion among Londoners that an egg is not good if it is milky. This, of course, is never met with in London, for the simple reason that a milky egg means, as a rule, than it has not been laid more than a few hours. For this reason eggs literally hot from the nest are not suitable for making puddings or even omelets. Eggs that have been kept one or two days will be found to answer better, as they possess more binding properties.

There is an old-fashioned idea that the best way to boil an egg is to place it in the saucepan in cold water, to put the saucepan on the fire, and as soon as the water boils the egg is done. A very little reflection will show that this entirely depends upon the size of the saucepan and the fierceness of the fire. If the saucepan were the size of the egg, the water would boil before the egg was hot through; on the other hand, no one could place an egg in the copper on this principle and then light the copper fire.

Eggs are best boiled in the dining-room on the fire, or in an ornamental egg-boiler. By this means we get the eggs hot, an occurrence almost unknown in large hotels and big establishments.

Eggs, To Break.—Whenever you break eggs, never mind what quantity, always break each egg separately into a cup first; see that it is good, and then throw it into a basin with the rest. One bad egg would spoil fifty. Supposing you have a dozen or two dozen new-laid eggs just taken from the nest, it is not an uncommon thing to have one that has been overlooked for weeks, and which may be a half-hatched mass of putrefaction.

Eggs, Fried.—The first point is to have a clean frying-pan, which is an article of kitchen furniture very rarely indeed met with in this country. For frying eggs, and for making omelets, it is essential that the frying-pan should never be used for other purposes.

If you think your frying-pan is perfectly clean, warm it in front of the fire for half a minute, put a clean white cloth over the top of the finger, and then rub the inside of the frying-pan.

To fry eggs properly, very little butter will be required; a little olive-oil will answer the same purpose. If you have too much “fat,” the white of the eggs are apt to develop into big bubbles or blisters. Another point is, you do not want too fierce a fire. Fry them very slowly. Some cooks will almost burn the bottom of the egg before the upper part is set. As soon as the white is set round the edge, you will often find the yolk not set at all, surrounded by a rim of semi-transparent “albumen.” When this is the case, it is very often a good plan to take the frying-pan off the fire (we are presuming the stove is a shut-up one), and place it in the oven for a minute or so, leaving the oven door open. By this means the heat of the oven will set the upper part of the eggs, and there is no danger of the bottom part being burnt.

There is a great art in taking fried eggs out of a frying-pan and serving them on a dish. Fried eggs, to look nice, should have the yolk in the centre, surrounded by a ring of white, perfectly round, rather more than an inch in breadth.

Take an egg-slice in the left hand, slide it under each egg separately, so that the yolk gets well into the middle of the slice. Now take a knife in the right hand and trim off the superfluous white. By this means you will be able to do it neatly. The part trimmed away is virtually refuse. Of course, you do not throw away more than is necessary, but take care that the white rim round the yolk is of uniform breadth. Most cooks take the egg out with their right hand, and attempt to trim it with the left; the result is about as neat as what would happen were you to attempt to write a letter with your left hand in a hurry.

Very often the appearance of fried eggs is improved by sprinkling over them a few specks of chopped parsley.

In placing fried eggs on toast, place the slice over the toast and draw the slice away. Do not push the egg on; you may break it.

Eggs, Poached.—The best kitchen implement to use for poaching eggs is a good large frying-pan. The mistake is to let the water boil; it should only just simmer. You should avoid having the white of the egg set too hard. We should endeavour to have the eggs look as white as possible. In order to insure this, put a few drops of vinegar or lemon-juice into the water, break the eggs separately into a clip, and then turn them very gently into the hot water. When they are set fairly firm take them out with an egg-slice, using the left hand as before, and trim them with the right. It is not necessary, in poached eggs, to have a clear yolk surrounded with a white uniform ring. Poached eggs often look best when the yolk reposes in a sort of pillow-case of white. Before putting them on toast or spinach, &c., be very careful to drain off the water; this is particularly important when the water is acid, especially with vinegar.

Eggs, Hard-boiled.—Place the eggs in cold water, bring the water to boiling point, and let them boil for ten minutes; if the hard-boiled eggs are wanted hot, put them in cold water for half a minute, in order that you may remove the shells without burning your fingers. If the eggs are required cold, it is best not to remove the shells till just before they are wanted; but if they have to be served cold, similar to what we meet with at railway refreshment-rooms, let them be served cold, whole. If you cut a hard-boiled egg the yolk very soon gets discoloured and brown round the edge, shrivels up, and becomes most unappetising in appearance.

Eggs, Curried.—Take some hard-boiled eggs, cut them in halves (remove the half-yolks), and cut them into rings. Place all these rings round the edge of the dish, and pile the white rings up to make a sort of border; pour some thick curry sauce in the middle, place the half-yolks at equal distances apart, on the white round the edge, and sprinkle a few specks of green parsley round the edge on the whites; this will give the dish a pretty appearance.

Eggs, Devilled.—Take, say, half a dozen eggs, boil them hard, remove the shells while hot, cut them in halves, scoop out the yolk, and cut a tiny piece off the bottom of each white cup, so that it will stand upright—à la Columbus. Next take all the yolks, and put them in a basin, and pound them with a little butter till you get a thick squash; add some cayenne pepper, according to taste, a little white pepper, a little salt, and a few drops of chilli-vinegar or ordinary vinegar; you can also add a little finely chopped parsley—say a teaspoonful. Fill each cup with some of this mixture, and as there will be more than enough to fill them, owing to the butter, bring them to a point, like a cone. Devilled eggs are best served cold, in which case they look best placed on a silver or ordinary dish, the bottom of which is covered with green parsley; the white looks best on a green bed. Some cooks chop up the little bits of white cut off from the bottom of the cups, divide them into two portions, and colour one half pink by shaking them in a saucer with a few drops of cochineal. These white and pink specks are then sprinkled over the parsley.

N.B.—In an ordinary way devilled eggs require anchovy sauce to be mixed with the yolks, but anchovy sauce is not allowed in vegetarian cookery.

Eggs à la bonne femme.—Proceed exactly as in making devilled eggs, till you place the yolks in the basin; then add to these yolks, while hot, a little dissolved butter, and small pieces of chopped cold boiled carrot, turnip, celery, and beet-root; season with white pepper and salt, and mix well together. Add also a suspicion of nutmeg and a little lemon-juice. Fill the cups with this while the mixture is moist, as when the butter gets cold the mixture gets firm. If you use chopped beet-root as well as other vegetables, it is best to fill half the cups with half the mixture before any beetroot is added, then add the beet-root and stir the mixture well up and it will turn a bright red. Now fill the remaining half of the cups, and place them on the dish containing the parsley, alternately. The red contrasts prettily with the light yellowish white of the first half. Do not colour the white specks with cochineal, as this is a different shade of red from the beet-root. You can chop up the white and sprinkle it over the parsley with a little chopped beet-root as well.

Eggs à la tripe.—Small Spanish onions are perhaps best for this dish, but ordinary onions can be used. Cut the onions cross-ways after peeling them, so that they fall in rings, and remove the white core. Two Spanish or half a dozen ordinary onions will be sufficient. Fry these rings of onions in butter till they are tender, without browning them. Take them out of the frying-pan and put them aside. Add a spoonful of flour to the frying-pan, and make a paste with the butter, and then add sufficient milk so that when it is boiled and stirred up it makes a thick sauce; add pepper and salt, a little lemon-juice, and a small quantity of grated nutmeg. Put back the rings of onions into this, and let them simmer gently. Take half a dozen hard-boiled eggs, cut the eggs in halves, remove the yolks, and cut the whites into rings, like the onions, mixing these white egg-rings with the onions and sauce; make the whole hot and serve on a dish, using the hard-boiled half-yolks to garnish; sprinkle a little chopped parsley over the whole, and serve.

Egg, Forcemeat of, or Egg Balls.—Take three hard-boiled yolks of eggs, powder them, mix in a raw yolk, add a little pepper and salt, a small quantity of grated nutmeg, about a saltspoonful of finely chopped parsley, chopped up with a pinch of savoury herbs, or a pinch of dust from bottled savoury herbs, sifted from them, may be added instead. Roll these into balls not bigger than a very small marble, flour them, and throw them into boiling water till they are set.

In many parts of the Continent, hard-boiled yolks of eggs, served whole, are used as egg balls. A much cheaper way of making egg balls is as follows:—Beat up one egg, add a teaspoonful of chopped blanched parsley, some pepper and salt, and a very little grated nutmeg. Sift a bottle of ordinary mixed savoury herbs in a sieve, and take about half a saltspoonful of the dust and mix this with the egg, This will be found really better than using the herbs themselves. Now make some very fine bread-crumbs from stale bread, and mix this with the beaten-up egg till you make a sort of soft paste or dough; roll this into balls the size of a marble, flour them, and throw them into boiling water. The balls must be small or they will split in boiling.

Eggs au gratin.—Make about half a pint of butter sauce, make it hot over the fire, and stir in about two ounces of Parmesan cheese, a quarter of a nutmeg grated, some white pepper, and the juice of half a lemon. Make this hot, and then add the yolks of four eggs. Stir it all up, and keep stirring very quickly till the mixture begins to thicken, when you must instantly remove it from the fire, but continue stirring for another minute. In the meantime have ready some hard-boiled eggs, cut these into slices, and make a circle of the bigger slices on a dish; then spread a layer of the mixture over the slices of egg, and place another layer on this smaller than the one below, then another layer of mixture, and so on with alternate layers till you pile it up in the shape of a pyramid. Spread a layer of the remainder of the mixture over the surface, and sprinkle some powdered light-coloured bread-raspings mixed with some grated Parmesan cheese over the whole; place the dish in the oven to get hot and to slightly brown, and then serve. Some fried bread cut into pretty shapes can be used to ornament the base.

Eggs and Spinach.—Make a thick purée of spinach; take some hard-boiled eggs, cut them in halves while hot, after removing the shells, and press each half a little way into the purée, so that the yellow yolk will be shown surrounded by the white ring. Be very careful not to smear the edge with the spinach.

N.B.—Sometimes eggs are poached and laid on the spinach whole.

Eggs and Turnip-tops.—Proceed exactly as above, using a purée of turnip-tops instead of spinach.

Eggs and Asparagus.—Have ready some of the green parts of asparagus, boiled tender, and cut up into little pieces an eighth of an inch long so that they look like peas. Beat up four eggs very thoroughly with some pepper and salt, and mix in the asparagus, only do not break the pieces of green. Melt a couple of ounces of butter in a small stew-pan, and as soon as it commences to froth pour in the beaten-up egg and asparagus; stir the mixture quickly over the fire, being careful to scrape the bottom of the saucepan. As soon as the mixture thickens pour it on some hot toast, and serve.

Eggs and Celery.—Have ready some stewed celery on toast. (See CELERY, STEWED.) Poach some eggs and place them on the top. Hard-boiled eggs, cut into slices, can be added to the celery instead of poached eggs.

When stewed celery is served as a course by itself, the addition of the eggs and plenty of bread make it a wholesome and satisfying meal.

Egg Salad.—(See SALADS.)

Egg Sandwiches.—(See SANDWICHES.)

Egg Sauce.—(See SAUCES.)

Egg Toast.—Beat up a couple of eggs, melt an ounce of butter in a saucepan, and add to it a little pepper and salt. As soon as the butter begins to froth, add the beaten-up egg and stir the mixture very quickly, and the moment it begins to thicken pour it over a slice of hot buttered toast.

Eggs à la Dauphine.—Take ten hard-boiled eggs, cut them in halves and remove the yolks, and place the yolks in a basin with a piece of new bread, about as big as the fist, that has been soaked in some milk, or better still, cream; add a teaspoonful of chopped parsley, a quarter of a grated nutmeg, and two ounces of grated Parmesan cheese; rub the whole well together, and then add two whole eggs, well beaten up, to the mixture to moisten it. Next fill all these white cups of eggs with some of this mixture, place the eggs well together, and spread a thin layer of the mixture over the top; then take a smaller number of half-eggs, filled, and place on the top and make a pyramid, so that a single half-egg is at the top. You can place ten half-eggs at the bottom in one layer, six half-eggs on the top of these, spreading a thin layer of the mixture, then three half-eggs, one more layer of the mixture, and then one half-egg at the summit. This dish is sometimes ornamented by forcing hard-boiled yolks of eggs through a wire sieve. It falls like yellow vermicelli into threads. This dish should be placed in the oven, to be made quite hot, and some kind of white sauceshould be poured round the edge.

Eggs and Black Butter.—Fry some eggs, serve them up on a hot dish, and pour some black butter round the base. (See BLACK BUTTER SAUCE.)

Eggs and Garlic.—This is better adapted for an Italian than an English palate. Take half a dozen heads of garlic and fry them in a little butter in order to remove the rankness of flavour. Take them out and pound them in a mortar with rather more than a tablespoonful of oil; heat this on the fire in a stew-pan, after adding some pepper and salt. Beat up an egg, and stir this in with the oil and garlic till the mixture gets thick. Arrange some slices of hard-boiled eggs—four eggs would be sufficient—pour this mixture in the centre, and serve.

Eggs with Mushrooms.—Take half a pint of button mushrooms and, if fresh, peel them and throw them instantly into water made acid with lemon-juice, in order that they may not turn a bad colour. In the meantime slice up a good-sized Spanish onion, and fry the onion in a little butter. As soon as the onion is a little tender, chop up and add the mushrooms. Put all this into a stew-pan with a little butter sauce, or a little water can be added and then thickened with a little butter and flour. Let this simmer gently for nearly half an hour, add a little made mustard, pepper and salt and a dessertspoonful of vinegar. Before sending to table add half a dozen hard-boiled eggs; the whites should be cut into rings, and should be only put into the sauce long enough to get hot; the yolks should be kept separate, but must be warmed up in the sauce.

Eggs and Onions.—Cut up a large Spanish onion in slices, and fry it in some butter till it is a light brown and tender, but do not let it burn; drain off the butter and put the fried onion on a dish; sprinkle some cayenne pepper and a little salt over the onions, and squeeze the juice of a whole lemon over them. Now poach some eggs and serve them on the top of the onion.

Eggs and Potatoes.—Take the remains of some floury potatoes, beat up an egg, and mix the potato flour with the egg. You can also chop up very finely a small quantity of onion and parsley, and season with plenty of pepper and salt. The respective quantities of floury potatoes and beaten egg must be so regulated that you can roll the mixture into balls without their having any tendency to break. Make the balls big enough so that when you press them between the hands you can squeeze the ball into the shape of an ordinary egg, or you can mould them into this shape with a tablespoon. Now flour these imitation eggs in order to dry the surface, and then dip them into well-beaten-up egg and cover them with dried bread-crumbs, and fry them in a little butter or oil, or brown them in the oven, occasionally basting them with a little butter.

Eggs and Sauce Robert.—Take some hard-boiled eggs, cut them into quarters, and make them hot in some Sauce Robert—(see ROBERT SAUCE)—and serve with fried or toasted bread in a dish.

Eggs and Sorrel.—Make a thick purée of sorrel—(see SORREL SAUCE)—and serve some hard-boiled or poached eggs on the top.

Eggs, Broiled.—Cut a large slice of crumb of bread off a big loaf; toast it lightly, put some pieces of butter on it, and put it on a dish in front of the fire; then break some eggs carefully on to the toast, and let them set from the heat of the fire like a joint roasting; when the side nearest the fire gets set, it will be necessary to turn the dish round. When the whole has set, squeeze the juice of an orange over the eggs, and a little grated nutmeg may be added. The eggs and toast should be served in the same dish in which they are baked.

Eggs, Buttered.—Break some eggs into a flat dish, then take a little butter and make it hot in a frying-pan till it frizzles and begins to turn brown. Now pour this very hot butter, which is hotter than boiling water, over the eggs in the dish. Put the dish in the oven a short time, and finish off setting the yolks with a red-hot salamander.

Eggs, Scrambled.—Scrambled eggs, when finished properly, should have the appearance of yellow and white streaks, distinct in colour, but yet all joined together in one mass. Melt a little butter in the frying-pan, break in some eggs, as if for frying; of course, the whites begin to set before the yolks. As soon as the whites are nearly but not quite set, stir the whole together till the whole mass sets. By this means you will get yellow and white streaks joined together. It is very important that you don’t let the eggs get brown at the bottom; you will therefore require a perfectly clean frying-pan and not too fierce a fire.

Eggs in Sunshine.—This is a name given to fried eggs with tomato served on the top. You want a dish that will stand the heat; consequently, take an oval baking-tin, or enamelled dish that you can put on the top of a shut-up stove. Melt a little butter in this, and as soon as it begins to frizzle break some eggs into the dish, and let them all set together. As soon as they are set, pour four or five tablespoonfuls of tomato conserve on the top; this is much better than tomato sauce, which contains vinegar. Or you can bake half a dozen ripe tomatoes in a tin in the oven, and place these on the top instead of the tomato conserve.

Eggs and Cucumber.—Peel and slice up two or three little cucumbers of the size generally sold on a barrow at a penny each. Put these with two or three ounces of butter in a stew-pan, and three small onions about the size of the top of the thumb, chopped very fine; fry these and add a dessertspoonful of vinegar. When the cucumber is tender, and a little time has been allowed for the vinegar to evaporate, add six hard-boiled eggs, cut into slices; make these very hot and serve. Pepper and salt must be added.

Eggs with Cheese.—Take a quarter of a pound of grated cheese (the cheese should be dry and white), melt this cheese gently in a stew-pan over the fire, with a little bit of butter about as big as the thumb, in order to assist the cheese in melting. Mix with it a brimming teaspoonful of chopped parsley, two or three tiny spring onions, chopped very fine, and about a quarter of a small grated nutmeg. When the cheese is melted, add six beaten-up eggs, and stir the whole together till they are set. Fried or toasted bread should be served round the edge of the dish.

Little Eggs for Garnishing.—This is a nice dish when you require a lot of white of eggs for other purposes, such as iceing a wedding-cake, or making light vanilla or almond biscuits.

Take six hard-boiled yolks, powder them, flavour with a little pepper and salt, and mix in three raw yolks; mix this well together, and roll them into shapes like very small sausages, pointed at each end like a foreign cigar. Flour these on the outside, and throw them into boiling water. These can be used for garnishing purposes for the vast majority of vegetarian dishes. They can be flavoured if wished with grated nutmeg, chopped parsley, and a few savoury herbs.

Omelets.—It is a strange fact, but not the less true, that to get a well-made omelet in a private house in this country is the exception and not the rule. A few general remarks on making omelets will, we hope, not be out of place in writing a book on an exceptional style of cookery, in which omelets should play a most important part.

First of all, we require an omelet-pan, and for this purpose the cheaper the frying-pan the better. The best omelet-pan of all is a copper one, tinned inside. Copper conveys heat quicker than almost any other metal; consequently, if we use an ordinary frying-pan, the thinner it is the quicker will heat be conveyed.

It is very essential that the frying-pan be absolutely clean, and it will be found almost essential to reserve the omelet-pan for omelets only. A frying-pan that has cooked meat should not be used for the purpose; and although in vegetarian cookery a frying-pan has not been used in this manner, we should still avoid one in which onions or vegetables, or even black butter has been made. The inside of an omelet-pan should always look as if it had only just left the ironmonger’s shop.

The next great question is, how much butter should be allowed for, say, six eggs? On this point the greatest authorities differ. We will first quote our authorities, and then attempt to give an explanation that reconciles the difference. A plain omelet may be roughly described as settings of eggs well beaten up by stirring them up in hot butter. One of the oldest cookery books we can call to mind is entitled “The Experienced English Housekeeper,” by Elizabeth Raffald. The book, which was published in 1775, is dedicated to the Hon. Lady Elizabeth Warburton, whom the authoress formerly served. as housekeeper. The recipe is entitled “To make an amulet.” The book states, “Put a quarter of a pound of butter into a frying-pan, break six eggs”; Francatelli also gives four ounces of butter to six eggs.

On the other hand, Soyer, the great cook, gives two ounces of butter to six eggs; so also does the equally great Louis Eustache Ude, cook to Louis XVI.

We may add that “Cassell’s Dictionary of Cookery” recommended two ounces of butter to six eggs, whilst “Cassell’s Shilling Cookery” recommends four eggs.

The probable reason why two such undoubtedly great authorities as Soyer and Francatelli should differ is that in making one kind of omelet you would use less butter than in making another. Francatelli wrote for what may be described as that “high class cooking suited for Pall Mall clubs,” where no one better than himself knew how best to raise the jaded appetite of a wealthy epicure. Soyer’s book was written for the people.

There are two kinds of omelets, one in which the egg is scarcely beaten at all, and in which, when cooked, the egg appears set in long streaks. There is also the richer omelet, which is sent to table more resembling a light pudding. For the former of these omelets, two ounces of butter will suffice for six eggs; for the latter of these you will require four ounces of butter, or else the omelet will be leathery. In Holland, Belgium, and Germany, and in country villages in France, the omelet is made, as a rule, with six eggs to two ounces of butter. It comes up like eggs that have been set. In the higher-class restaurants in Paris, like Bignon’s, or the Café Anglais, the omelet is lighter, and probably about four ounces of butter would be used to six eggs.

This probably explains the different directions given in various cookery books for making omelets.

Omelet, Plain.—Melt four ounces of butter in a frying-pan, heat up six eggs till they froth; add a little pepper and salt, pour the beaten-up eggs into the frying-pan as soon as the butter begins to frizzle, and with a tablespoon keep scraping the bottom of the frying-pan in every part, not forgetting the edge. Gradually the mixture becomes lumpy; still go on scraping till about two-thirds or more are lumpy and the rest liquid. Now slacken the heat slightly by lifting the frying-pan from the fire, and push the omelet into half the frying-pan so that it is in the shape of a semicircle. By this time, probably, it will be nearly set. Take the frying-pan off the fire, and hold it in a slanting direction in front of the fire. When the whole is set, as it will quickly do, slide off the omelet from the frying-pan on to a hot dish with an egg-slice, and serve.

Omelet, Plain (another way).—Put two ounces of butter into a frying-pan, break six eggs into a basin with a little pepper and salt, and beat them very slightly, so that the yolks and whites are quite mixed into one, but do not beat them more than you can help, and do not let the eggs froth. As soon as the butter frizzles, pour in the beaten eggs, scrape the frying-pan quickly with a spoon in every part till the mixture gets lumpy. Now slacken the heat if the fire is fierce, and let the mixture set in the frying-pan like a pancake. As soon as it is nearly set, with perhaps only a dessertspoonful of liquid left unset, turn the omelet over, one half on to the other half, in the shape of a semicircle, and bring the spoonful of unset fluid to join them over the edge. Slide off the omelet on to a hot dish with an egg-slice.

Omelet with Fine Herbs.—Chop up a dessertspoonful of parsley, and add a good pinch of powdered savoury herbs, add these with pepper and salt to the six beaten-up eggs in a basin. Beat up the eggs, either slightly or very thoroughly, according to whether you use two ounces of butter or four. Proceed in every respect, in making the omelet, as directed for plain omelet above.

Omelet with Onion.—Proceed exactly as in the above recipe, only adding to the chopped parsley a piece of onion or shallot about as big as the top of the thumb down to the first joint, also very finely chopped. When onion is used in making an omelet a little extra pepper should be added.

Omelet with Cheese.—Proceed as if making an ordinary omelet, with four ounces of butter. Add to the six well beaten-up eggs about four ounces of grated Parmesan cheese; a small quantity of cream will be found a great improvement to this omelet. A little pepper and salt must, of course, be added as well.

Potato Omelet.—Mix three ounces of a floury potato with six eggs, a little pepper and salt, and half a pint of milk, and make the milk boil and then stand for a couple of minutes before it is mixed with the eggs; pour this mixture into three or four ounces of butter, and proceed as in making an ordinary omelet.

Potato Omelet, Sweet.—Proceed exactly as above, only instead of adding pepper and salt mix in a brimming tablespoonful of finely powdered sugar, the juice of a lemon, with half a grated nutmeg.

Cheese Soufflé.—To make a small cheese soufflé in a round cake-tin, proceed as follows:—Make the tin very hot in the oven. Put in about an ounce of butter, so as to make the tin oily in every part inside. The tin must be tilted so that the butter pours round the sides of the tin as well as the bottom. Take two eggs, separate the yolks from the whites, and beat the whites to a stiff froth; beat up the two yolks very thoroughly with a quarter of a pint of milk. Add to this two tablespoonfuls of grated Parmesan cheese; add this mixture to the beaten-up whites, and mix the whole carefully together. Now pour this mixture into the hot buttered tin, which should be five or six inches deep, and bake it in the oven. The mixture will rise to five or six times its original depth. As soon as it is done, run with the soufflé from the oven door to the dining-room door. However quick you may be, the soufflé will probably sink an inch on the way. Some cooks wrap hot flannel on the outside of the tin to keep up the heat. If you have a folded dinner napkin round the tin for appearance sake, as is usually the case, fold the napkin before you make the soufflé, and make the napkin sufficiently big round that it can be dropped over the tin in an instant. The napkin should be pinned, and be quite half an inch in diameter bigger than the width of the tin. This is to save time. Delay in serving the soufflé is fatal.

Omelet Soufflé, Sweet.—In making an omelet soufflé, sweet, you can proceed in exactly the same manner as making a cheese soufflé, with the exception that you add two tablespoonfuls of powdered sugar instead of two tablespoonfuls of grated cheese. The omelet will, however, require flavouring of some kind, the two most delicate being vanilla and orange-flower water. You can flavour it with lemon by rubbing a few lumps of sugar on the outside of a lemon, and then pounding this with the powdered sugar. It must be pounded very thoroughly and mixed very carefully, or else one part of the omelet will taste stronger of lemon than the other. Some powdered sugar should be shaken over the top of the soufflé just before serving.

Omelet Soufflé (another way).—When a soufflé is made on a larger scale, and served up on a flat dish, it is best to proceed as follows:—Take six ounces of powdered sugar, and mix them with six yolks of eggs and a dessertspoonful of flour and a pinch of salt. To this must be added whatever flavouring is used, such as vanilla. This is all mixed together till it is perfectly smooth. Next beat the six whites to a very stiff froth; mix this in with the batter lightly, put two ounces of butter into an omelet-pan, and as soon as the butter begins to frizzle pour in the mixture. As it begins to set round the edges, turn it over and heap it up in the middle, and then slide the omelet off on to a plated-edged baking dish, which must be well buttered. Put it in the oven for about a quarter of an hour, to let it rise, shake some powdered sugar over the top, and serve very quickly.

Omelet, Sweet.—Make an ordinary plain omelet with six eggs and either two or four ounces of butter, as directed for making omelet, plain. Instead of adding pepper and salt to the beaten-up eggs, add one or two tablespoonfuls of finely powdered sugar. At the last moment, sprinkle a little powdered sugar over the omelet, and just glaze the sugar with a red-hot salamander.

Omelet with Jam.—Make a plain sweet omelet as directed above, adding rather less sugar—about half. If you make the omelet with two ounces of butter, and turn it over, put a couple of tablespoonfuls of jam on the omelet, and turn the half over the jam. It is best to put the jam in the oven for a minute or two to take the chill off.

If you make the omelet with four ounces of butter, you must put the jam by the side of the omelet and let the thin part of the omelet cover it. Of course, the question what jam is best for sweet omelet is purely a matter of taste. Most good judges consider that apricot jam is the best, and if the sweet omelet itself be flavoured with a little essence of vanilla, the result is generally considered one of the nicest sweets that can be sent to table. Strawberry jam, especially if some of the strawberries are whole, is also very nice. The objection to raspberry jam is the pips.

A most delicious omelet can be made by chopping up some preserved slices of pine-apple, and placing this in the omelet, and making the pine-apple syrup hot and pouring it round the base. Red-currant jelly, black-currant jam, and plum jamcan all be used. One of the cheapest and, in the opinion of many, the best sweet omelets can be made with six eggs, two ounces of butter, and three or four tablespoonfuls of orange marmalade. In this case it will cost no more to rub a few lumps of sugar on the outside of an orange, and pound these with the powdered sugar you use to sweeten the omelet. If the marmalade is liquid, as it often is, one or two tablespoonfuls of the juice can be poured round the edge of the omelet.

Omelet au Rhum.—As a rule, spirits are not allowed in vegetarian cookery. An omelet au rhum is simply a sweet omelet, plain, with plenty of powdered sugar sprinkled over the top, with some rum ignited poured over it just before it is sent to table. The way to ignite the rum is to fill a large spoon, like a gravy-spoon, and hold a lighted wooden taper (not wax; it tastes) underneath the spoon till the rum lights. The dish should be hot. It may be a consolation to teetotallers to reflect that the fact of burning the rum causes all the alcohol to evaporate, and there is nothing left but the flavour.

Omelet au Kirsch.—Proceed as above, substituting Kirschenwasser for Rum.

Omelet, Vegetable.—A plain omelet can also be served with any purée of vegetables, so that we can have—Asparagus Omelet, Artichoke Omelet, French Bean Omelet, Celery Omelet, Spinach Omelet, Mushroom Omelet, Tomato Omelet, &c.