With a saucepan over the sea

The kitchen lore of the old countries across the sea includes many useful bits of wisdom. Experience teaches even fools after a space of time, but a bright individual needs but a hint. Some of these ideas have reached us, having been introduced by the various excellent teachers in cooking schools, who have done their utmost to spread light and lessen extravagance and illnesses, resulting directly or indirectly, from that waste. In speaking generally, we will say that England is foremost *in the art of roasting and broiling meats ; France takes the palm for soups and sauces — a soup is only a prolonged sauce; Germany With a Saucepan over the Sea and Austria are prize bakers of bread, cakes, and pastry ; Italy and Hungary excel in fancy desserts and confectionery, — all the best confectioners or their head cooks are Italians ; and Spain and Russia follow at the rear, trying, with indifferent success, to imitate the other countries in each branch of the great art. Norway and Sweden have a peculiar place apart ; they know how to do everything domestic in the cleanest, cleverest way, and are cosy, home-loving people, but have been so quiet since their last war — long ago — with the neighboring countries, and so isolated in situation, that few travellers realize how fine they are • indeed, they combine the vivacity and ingenuity of the French with English patience and neatness and German honesty and thoroughness. Some day a Swedish cook-book will be written to astonish the world. Foreign cooks use very little salt and pepper compared with Americans. Good pure food, with the simple, fresh flavor inherent, does not require seasoning to heighten its excellence, and stale meat or adulterated materials are not thus rendered any more wholesome. In coming back to America after a trip abroad, you notice first the excess of salt in everything, especially bread and butter ; then the muddy complexions and harsh With a Saucepan over the Sea voices. Too much salt, as any one knows, irritates the mucous membranes and causes skin diseases, and too much pepper inflames and dries the blood, injuring the liver beyond repair. In Europe, especially in France, they think that soup is most important once a day, strong, nourishing, satisfying. Even the poorest peasant has good broth. It satisfies hunger, keeping one from eating too much meat; and according to French tradition, the glass of light wine taken after, called "le coup d'apres," robs the doctor of a fee. If stock is made, and all scraps utilized, soup can be had each day for dinner. Nothing need be wasted. Even the dish of hash, left over, can be turned into excellent soup. If it were heated again, it would be tough and tasteless. An onion, a carrot, some herbs, and the meat with the gravy must be put with enough water, boiled an hour or more, strained and thickened with flour and butter, then, say, a little boiled rice added, or some croutons, with salt and pepper. Half a dish of macaroni and cheese, with the gravy and bones of fried chicken, an onion, a carrot, a bit of celery, and some herbs, water, of course, will, if cooked awhile, and rubbed through a sieve with the addition of a cup of boiling milk, the yolk of an egg, or some butter and flour, salt, i6 241 With a Saucepan over the Sea pepper, and chopped parsley, and a pinch of nutmeg, result in a very appetizing soup. So on indefinitely. Not a scrap need be wasted ; when first principles are learned, inspiration can guide. Centuries of taxation have taught foreigners such economy.