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      <fileDesc>
         <titleStmt>
            <title>Introduction to the Fifth Edition</title>
         </titleStmt>
         <publicationStmt>
            <publisher>The Picayune</publisher>
            <pubPlace>New Orleans</pubPlace>

         </publicationStmt>
         <sourceDesc>
            <p>Introduction to the fifth published in <date when="1916"
                  >1916</date>. </p>
         </sourceDesc>
      </fileDesc>
      <encodingDesc>
         <classDecl>
            <taxonomy xml:id="usperiods">
               <category xml:id="colonial">
                  <catDesc>Period of American settlement and Revolution, <date
                        notBefore="1492" notAfter="1789"/></catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="antebellum">
                  <catDesc>The era of American slavery, defined here as <date
                        notBefore="1789"/> until the end of the Civil War, <date
                        notAfter="1865"/></catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="postbellum">
                  <catDesc>The years following the Civil War, Reconstruction,
                     and the beginning of the 20th century, <date
                        notBefore="1865" notAfter="1922"/></catDesc>
               </category>
            </taxonomy>
         </classDecl>
         <classDecl>
            <taxonomy xml:id="analyses">
               <category xml:id="change">
                  <catDesc>Describes a change in the manner, style, and culture
                     of Creole cooking from across historical periods.</catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="appropriation">
                  <catDesc>Describes the act or practice of the dominant culture
                     (in this narrative, the editors and intended audience of
                     white cooks and mistresses) borrowing from, adopting, or
                     reinterpreting cultural practices of a non-dominant culture
                     (in this narrative, the Creole cooks, enslaved individuals,
                     black cooks and housekeepers, and Afro-Caribbean creole
                     culinary and cultural practices). </catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="erasure">
                  <catDesc>The disappearing of a non-dominant cultural
                     figure,labor or practice from the narrative</catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="domestic_art">
                  <catDesc>The description of domesticity as an art
                     form</catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="domestic_science">
                  <catDesc>The description of domesticity as a science</catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="knowledge">
                  <catDesc>Refers to instructions, description, or other
                     narrative that invokes the creation, production, or
                     distribution of knowledge systems</catDesc>
               </category>
               <category xml:id="labor">
                  <catDesc>Refers to allusions and references to cooking as an
                     act of labor</catDesc>
               </category>
            </taxonomy>
         </classDecl>
         <editorialDecl>
            <normalization>
               <p>Line breaks and page breaks of the orignal manuscript were not
                  maintained. Spellings and quotation marks were transcribed as
                  they appear in the original document.</p>
            </normalization>
            <interpretation>
               <p>Interpretations of <gi>ana</gi> analysis groups were made at
                  my discretion and informed by the methods and methodology as
                  described in <title>Eating the Atlantic: U.S. and Caribbean
                     Literature and the Gastroaesthetic</title>
               </p>
            </interpretation>
         </editorialDecl>
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   <text>
      <front>
         <figure>
            <figDesc>Old Creole Days in New Orleans</figDesc>
         </figure>
         <docEdition>Fifth Edition</docEdition>
         <p>The Question of "a good cook" is now becoming a very vexing problem.
            The only remedy for this state of things is for the <rs
               ref="#creole_mistresses" ana="#postbellum">ladies of the present
               day</rs> to do as <rs ref="#creole_mistresses" ana="#anbellum"
               >their grandmothers did</rs>, acquaint themselves thoroughly with
            the <seg ana="#domestic_art">art of cooking</seg> in all its
            important and minutest details, and learn how to properly apply
            them. To assist with <rs ref="#creole_mistresses" ana="postbellum"
               >the good house-wives of the present day</rs> in this, to
            preserve to future generations the many excellent and matchless
            recipes of our New Orleans cuisine, <seg ana="#appropriation"
               type="phrase">to gather these up from the lips of the old Creole
               negro cooks and the grand old housekeepers who still
               survive</seg>, <seg ana="#change" type="phrase">ere they, too,
               pass away, and Creole Cookery, with all its delightful
               combinations and possibilities, will have become a lost
            art</seg>, is, in a measure, the object of this book.</p>
      </front>
      <body>

         <div>
            <p>Not often is there romance and a golden glamour about a cook
               book.</p>
            <p>A mere cook book! Something that you take into the kitchen with
               you and lay on the kitchen table, while you turn the leaves and
               hunt down an elusive recipe that escapes your memory, often as
               you have used it. And when you find it at last and lay the
               rolling-pin across the open page, what an assembling there is of
               "the makin's", and what a stirring and mixing! And how certain
               you are of the result. <seg ana="#change">It is the old, old
                  recipe which your mother used, and her mother, and her
                  grandmother, and <seg ana="#knowledge">the grandmother caught
                     it from <rs ref="Personography.xml#creole_cooks">the
                        old-time "Mammy</rs></seg>," <seg ana="#appropriation"
                     >who could work all kinds of magic in that black-raftered
                     kitchen of <seg ana="#antebellum">the long
                  ago</seg></seg>.</seg></p>
            <p><seg ana="#change">There are no rafters in your kitchen nowadays,
                  and you are immensely proud of your tiled walls and your rows
                  of aluminum and granite-ware;</seg>
               <seg ana="#erasure">but it is the same old recipe you are working
                  out, in just the same old way!</seg></p>
            <p>It was such cookery as this that won the hearts of beruffled
               gentlemen and crinolined ladies in <seg ana="#antebellum">the
                  early nineteenth century</seg>, and made them declare <seg
                  ana="#appropriation">that never were there such cooks as in
                     <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans">New
                     Orleans</placeName></seg>. <seg ana="#erasure">Those wonder
                  workers of <seg ana="#antebellum">the old kitchens</seg>, what
                  magic they wrought, and how proud they were of it!</seg> And
               it was never allowed to become a lost <seg ana="#domestic_art"
                  >art</seg>—no, indeed. <seg ana="#erasure"><rs
                     ref="Personography.xml#creole_mistresses">Rosy girls</rs>
                  learned it of <rs ref="Personography.xml#creole_cooks">the old
                     colored women</rs>, and <rs
                     ref="Personography.xml#creole_mistresses">stately
                     ladies</rs> taught <seg ana="#domestic_art">the art</seg>
                  and the wondrous secrets to their own <rs
                     ref="Personography.xml#creole_mistresses">rosy girls</rs>,
                     <seg ana="#knowledge">and so the magic has come down
                     through the generations</seg>, until</seg>—</p>
            <p><seg ana="#knowledge">Why, until is has been given to the printed
                  page, and so it is preserved here in this most wonderful of
                  all cook books.</seg></p>
            <p>Other cook books have lived and had their day, and possessed
               merit, perhaps, but what one of them was it that was ever <seg
                  ana="#erasure">the embodiment of a time filled with
                  romance?</seg></p>
            <p><seg ana="#erasure">All through these pages one will catch the
                  glimpses of long-gone festivals, and of the graces and
                  courtesies that made them charming; of the wit and the wisdom
                  that flashed back and forth across the mahogany; of the bright
                  eyes, now asleep for this many a year; of the gallant hearts
                  that have long since ceased to beat.</seg></p>
            <p>Here they are, in this old <name>Creole Cook Book</name>, which
               is going through its fifth edition, in response to an outcry that
               arose when the fourth edition was exhausted. Thousands of homes
               demand it, because it is the epitome of <seg ana="#erasure">good
                  cheer that belonged to old <placeName
                     ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans" period="#antebellum">New
                     Orleans</placeName></seg>. <seg ana="#knowledge">Mothers
                  must need give it to their daughters when they cross the home
                  threshold to journey away into homes of their own.</seg>
               Strangers in <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans">New
                  Orleans</placeName>, having once become familiar with the
               delightful and distinctive cookery of this city, would fain learn
               how the thing is done, <seg ana="#knowledge">and so begin to ask
                  for the recipes</seg>. Here they are—the time-tested, the
               incomparable! Nowhere is there anything like it. Study it, <rs
                  ref="Personography.xml#creole_mistresses">madame</rs>, and
               follow the path laid down, and you cannot fail to arrive.</p>
            <p>How it came about? From <placeName ref="Placeography.#france"
                  period="#colonial">France</placeName> came the chefs of that
               day to make their fortunes in the <seg ana="#colonial">new
                  world</seg>—and established themselves here with <seg
                  ana="#colonial">the young colony</seg>. From <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#spain">Spain</placeName> came the best
               cooks of that sunny clime—and settled down beside the <rs
                  ref="Placeography.xml#france">French</rs> artists. <seg
                  ana="#knowledge">After awhile they borrowed ideas from one
                  another.</seg> After a still longer while the people of <rs
                  ref="Placeography.xml#louisiana" ana="#colonial">the new
                  world</rs>,<seg ana="#knowledge"> who learned from them,
                  adapted what they learned to their needs and to the materials
                  they had at hand.</seg></p>
            <p>The result was beyond speech.</p>
            <p>Chefs?</p>
            <p>Perhaps there are still living many of the older generation who
               haunted the old <rs ref="Placeography.xml#france">French</rs>
               restaurants, they of the sanded floor and the incomporable
               cuisine. The names of the great chefs which became identified
               with <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans">New
                  Orleans</placeName> in those long-gone years may be still
               unforgotten. What of that delightful "<persName
                  ref="Personography.xml#eugene_flêche">Mme. Eugene</persName>,"
               who presided at <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#moreau"
                  >Moreau</placeName>'s, when it was near the <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#french_market">French
               Market</placeName>? All of the gourmets of that time used to eat
               there, and many a visit was paid to <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans">New Orleans</placeName>
               simply that one might sit at the table where <persName
                  ref="Personography.xml#eugene_flêche">Mme. Eugene</persName>'s
               famous dishes could be set before them. <persName
                  ref="Personography.xml#alex_hause">Alex Hause</persName>,
                  <persName ref="Personography.xml#arthur_gary">Arthur
                  Gary</persName>—as one remembers, they were at the old
                  <placeName ref="Personography.xml#bordreaux_house">Bordreaux
                  House</placeName><!-- check spelling --> at <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#milneburg">Milneburg</placeName>, when
               that resort was in its glory, and the elite used to make it their
               meal-time rendezvous. As for "<persName
                  ref="Personography.xml#miguel">Miguel</persName>," there must
               be many who remember <persName ref="Personography.xml#miguel"
                  >Miguel</persName>, also at <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#milneburg">Milneburg</placeName>, one of
               the most noted of the great chefs of his time. There were
                  <persName ref="Personography.xml#john_straner">John
                  Straner</persName>, too—his place was on the site now occupied
               by the <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#cosmopolitan_hotel"
                  >Cosmopolitan Hotel</placeName>, in <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#bourbon_street">Bourbon
                  street</placeName>. <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#charles_rhodes">Charles
                  Rhodes</placeName> will be remembered by every man who ever
               dined at <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#moreau"
                  >Moreau</placeName>'s, when it was in <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#canal_street">Canal
               street</placeName>—when that restaurant was one of the most
               noted, not only in <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans"
                  >New Orleans</placeName>, but in the world. <persName
                  ref="Personography.xml#victor_bero">Victor Bero</persName>—who
               of the old-timers will ever forget him or his magic cookery?
                  <persName ref="Personography.xml#micas">Micas</persName>, at
               old <placeName ref="Placeography.xml#spanish_fort">Spanish
                  Fort</placeName>—alas, that he should be only a memory!
                  <persName ref="Personography.xml#andrew_camors">Andrew
                  Camors</persName>, who established one of the great
               restaurants of the city, in <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#st_charles_street">St. Charles
                  street</placeName>, succeeded by his nephew, <persName
                  ref="Personography.xml#leon_lamothe">Leon
               Lamothe</persName>—this became one of the best-known houses in
               the United States.</p>
            <p>As for the name of <persName ref="Personography.xml#begue"
                  >Begue</persName>—who will ever forget the quaint dining room
               near the <placeName ref="Placegraphy.xml#french_market">French
                  Market</placeName>, and the little kitchen looking into it,
               with <persName ref="Personography.xml#begue">Madame
                  Begue</persName>, she of the skilled touch, compounding such
               fare as never moral dreamed of before. And there are the
                  <persName ref="Personography.xml#alciatores"
                  >Alciatores</persName>, grandfather and father and sons—still
               do they work their ancient magic in places known as "<placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#antoine">Antoine</placeName>'s" and
                  "<placeName ref="Placeography.xml#the_louisiane">The
                  Louisiane</placeName>"—with all the art of the <rs
                  ref="#antebellum">brave old days</rs> brought down and
               modernized to fit <rs ref="#postbellum">the brave new
               times</rs>.</p>
            <p>In this name alone one may find the charm of the <rs
                  ref="Placeography.xml#france">French</rs> cookery which
               belongs especially to <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#neworleans">New Orleans</placeName>.
               There was one of the name, born in <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#marseilles">Marseilles</placeName>, set
               at his life work at 12 years old, and becoming so proficient that
               at 17 he was assistant chef in a great hotel at <placeName
                  ref="Placeography.xml#marseilles">Marseilles</placeName>. <seg
                  ana="#knowledge">There is another of the name who for the past
                  ten years has spent months out of every year in <placeName
                     ref="Placeography.xml#paris">Paris</placeName>, learning
                  new things—as the efficient teacher spends the summer in the
                  great <rs ref="us_east">Eastern</rs> universities; and who has
                  brought back a diploma from <placeName
                     ref="Placeography.xml#paris">Paris</placeName>—an honor of
                  which to be proud.</seg></p>
            <p>He is a great chef!</p>
            <p><seg ana="#erasure">It is the lore of such men as this which has
                  made the <title>Creole Cook Book</title> possible.</seg></p>
            <p><seg ana="#knowledge">Men who have begun to learn how to cook at
                  10 or 12 years of age have grown up, and have passed their
                  knowledge on to their sons.</seg> The <seg ana="#domestic_art"
                  >art of the noted restaurants</seg> has spread outward into
               the homes; and so the city has acquired its wondrous reputation
               as a creator of splendid culinary triumphs.</p>
            <p>But there has been another adaptation. <seg ana="#antebellum"
                  >After the tidal wave of war had swept over the land and left
                  it wrecked</seg>, <rs ref="#creole_mistresses">the
                  housewives</rs> of the Creole city had to learn such rigid
               economy as they had never known.</p>
            <p>Behold!</p>
            <p>The recipes must be made to fit slender purses!</p>
            <p>And it was done!</p>
            <p>Therefore it is that the <title>Creole Cook Book</title> may be
               taken into the humblest kitchen and made to produce delightful
               dishes "out of nothing."</p>
            <p>That is the magic of the <title>Creole Cook Book</title>, which
                  <orgName>The Times-Picayune</orgName> is sending out upon its
               fifth journey to meet its old friends, and to make new ones along
               the road.</p>
         </div>




         <!-- Coffee -->
         <div>
            <head>Chapter I. CREOLE COFFEE. Cafe a la Creole.</head>
            <p>Travelers the world over unite in praise of Creole Coffee, or
               "Cafe a la Creole," <!-- no accents in original --> as they are
               fond of putting it. The Creole cuisinieres succeeded far beyond
               even the famous chefs of France in discovering the secret of good
               coffee-making, and they have never yielded the palm of victory.
               There is no place in the world in which the use of coffee is more
               general than in the old Creole city of New Orleans, where, from
               the famous French Market, with its world-renowned coffee stands,
               to the olden homes on the Bayou St. John, from Lake Pontchartrain
               to the verge of Southport, the cup of "Cafe Noir," or "Cafe au
               Lait," at morning, at noon and at night, has become a necessary
               and delightful part of the life of the people, and the wonder and
               the joy of visitors.</p>
            <p>The morning cup of Cafe Noir is an integral part of the life of a
               Creole household. The Creoles hold as a physiological fact that
               this custom contributes to longevity, and point, day after day,
               to examples of old men and women of fourscore, and over, who
               attest to the powerful aid they have received through life from a
               good, fragrant cup of coffee in the early morning. The ancient
               residents hold, too, that, after a hearty meal, a cup of "Cafe
               Noir," or black coffee will relieve the sense of oppression so
               apt to be experienced, and enables the stomach to perform its
               functions with greater facility. Cafe Noir is known, too, as one
               of the best preventatives of infectious diseases, and the ancient
               Creole physicians never used any other deoderizer than passing a
               chafing dish with burning grains of coffee through the room. As
               an antidote for poison the uses of coffee are too well known to
               be dilated upon.</p>
            <p>Coffee is also the greatest brain food and stimulant known. Men
               of science, poets and scholars and journalists have testified to
               its beneficial effects. Coffee supported the old age of Voltaire,
               and enabled Fontenelle to reach his one hundredth birthday.
               Charles Gayarre, the illustrious Louisiana historian, at the
               advanced age of 80, paid tribute to the Creole cup of "Cafe
               Noir."</p>
            <p>How important, then, is the art of making good coffee, entering,
               as it does, so largely into the daily life of the American
               people. There is no reason why the secret should be confined to
               any section or city; but, with a little care and attention, every
               household in the land may enjoy its morning or after-dinner cup
               of coffee with as much real pleasure as the Creoles of New
               Orleans, and the thousands of visitors who yearly migrate to this
               old Franco-Spanish city.</p>
         </div>
         <div type="section">
            <head>The Best Ingredients and the Proper Making.</head>
            <p>The best ingredients are those delightful coffees grown on
               well-watered mountain slopes, such as the famous Java and Mocha
               coffees. It must be of the best quality, the Mocha and Java mixed
               producing a concoction of a most delightful aroma and stimulating
               effect. One of the first essentials is to "Parch the Coffee
               Grains Just Before Making the Coffee," because coffee that has
               been long parched and left standing loses its flavor and
               strength. The coffee grains should "Be Roasted to a Rich Brown,"
               and never allowed to scorch or burn, otherwise the flavor of the
               coffee is at once affected or destroyed. Bear this in mind, that
               the GOOD CREOLE COOK NEVER BOILS COFFEE, but insists on dripping
               it, in a covered strainer, slowly—DRIP, DRIP, DRIP—till all the
               flavor is extracted.</p>
            <p>To reach this desired end, immediately after the coffee has been
               roasted and allowed to cool in a covered dish, so that none of
               the flavor will escape, the coffee is ground—neither too fine,
               for that will make the coffee dreggy; nor too coarse, for that
               prevents the escape of the full strength of the coffee juice—but
               a careful medium proportion, which will not allow the hot water
               pouring to run rapidly through, but which will admit of the water
               percolating slowly through the grounds, extracting every bit of
               the strength and aroma and falling speedily with "a drip! drip!"
               into the coffee pot.</p>
            <p>To make good coffee, the water must be "freshly boiled," and must
               never be poured upon the grounds until it has reached the good
               boiling point, otherwise the flavor is destroyed and subsequent
               pourings of boiling water can never quite succeed in extracting
               the superb strength and aroma which distinguish the good cup of
               coffee.</p>
            <p>It is of the greatest importance that "The Coffee Pot Be Kept
               Perfectly Clean," and the good cook will bear in mind that
               absolute cleanliness is as necessary for the "interior" of the
               coffee pot as for the shining "exterior." This fact is one too
               commonly overlooked, and yet the coffee pot requires more than
               ordinary care, for the reason that the chemical action of the
               coffee upon the tin or agate tends to create a substance which
               collects and clings to every crevice and seam, and, naturally, in
               the course of time, will affect the flavor of the coffee most
               peculiarly and unpleasantly. Very often the fact that the coffee
               tastes bitter or muddy arises from this fact. The "inside" of the
               coffee pot should, therefore, be washed as carefully "every day"
               as the outside.</p>
            <p>Having observed these conditions, proceed to make the coffee
               according to teh following unfailing</p>
            <p><hi rend="bold">Creole Rule.</hi></p>
            <p>Have the water heated to a good boil. Set the coffee pot in front
               of the stove, never on top, as the coffee will boil, and then the
               taste is destroyed.</p>
            <p>Allow one cup, or the ordinary mill, of coffee to make four good
               cups of the liquid, ground and put in the strainer, being careful
               to keep both the strainer and the spout of the coffee pot covered
               to prevent the flavor from escaping. Pour, first, about two
               tablespoonfuls of the boiling water on the coffee ground, or,
               according to the quantity of coffee used, just sufficient to
               settle the grounds. Wait about five minutes; then pour a little
               more water, and allow it to drip slowly through, but never pour
               water the second time until the grounds have ceased to puff or
               bubble, as this is an indication that the grounds have settled.
               Keep pouring slowly, at intervals, a little boiling water at a
               time, until the delightful aroma of the coffee begins to escape
               from the closed spout of the coffee pot. If the coffee dyes the
               cup it is a little too strong, but do not go far beyond this or
               the coffee will be too weak. When you have produced a rich,
               fragrant concoction, whose delightful aroma, filling the room, is
               a constant, tempting invitation to taste it, serve in fine china
               cups, using in preference loaf sugar for sweetening. You have
               then a real cup of the famou Creole Cafe Noir, so extensively
               used at morning dawn, at breakfast, and as the "after-dinner
               cup."</p>
            <p>If the coffee appears muddy, or not clear, some of the old
               Creoles drop a piece of charcoal an inch thick into the water,
               which settles it and at once makes it clear. Demonstrations prove
               that strength remains in the coffee grounds. A matter of economy
               in making coffee is to save the grounds from the meal or day
               before and boil these in a half gallon of water. Settle the
               grounds by dropping two or three drops of cold water in, and pour
               the water over the fresh grounds. This is a suggestion that rich
               and poor might heed with profit.</p>
         </div>
         <div type="section">
            <head>CAFE AU LAIT.</head>
            <p>Proceed in the same manner as in the making of "Cafe Noir,"
               allowing the usual quantity of boiling water to the amount of
               coffee used. When made, pour the cofee <!-- sic --> into delicate
               china cups, allowing a half cup of coffee to each cup. Serve, at
               the same time, a small pitcher of very sweet and fresh cream,
               allowing a half cup of cream to a half cup of coffee. The milk
               should always be boiled, and the cream very hot. If the cream is
               not fresh and sweet, it will curdle the coffee, by reason of the
               heat. Cafe au Lait is a great breakfast drink in New Orleans,
               while Cafe Noir is more generally the early morning and the
               afternoon drink.</p>
            <p>Having thus bid its readers "Good morning," and drank with them a
               cup of Cafe Noir, The Times-Picayune will proceed to discuss
               Creole Cookery in all its forms, from soup "a la Creole," to "pa
               candes amandes" and "pralines."</p>
         </div>
         <div type="chapter">
            <head>CALAS.</head>
            <p>"Belle Cala! Tour Chaud!"</p>
            <p>Under this cry was sold by the ancient Creole negro women in the
               French Quarter of New Orleans a delicious rice cake, which was
               eaten with the morning cup of Cafe au Lait. The Cala woman was a
               daily figure in the streets till within the last two or three
               years. She went her runds in quaint bandana and tignon, guinea
               blue dress and white apron, and carried on her head a covered
               bowl, in which were the dainty and hot Calas. Her cry, "Belle
               Cala! Tout Chaud!" would penetrate the morning air, and the olden
               Creole cooks would rush to the doors to get the first fresh, hot
               Calas to carry to their masters and mistresses with the early
               morning cup of coffee. The Cala women have almost all passed
               away.</p>
            <p>But the custom of making Calas still remains. In many an ancient
               home the good housewife tells her daughters just how "Tante Zizi"
               made the Calas in her day, and so are preserved these ancient
               traditional recipes.</p>
            <p>From one of the last of the olden Cala women, one who has walked
               the streets of the French Quarter fof fifty years and more, we
               have the following established Creole recipe:</p>
            <p>1-2 Cups of Rice. 3 Cups Water (boiling).</p>
            <p>3 Eggs. 1-2 Cup of Sugar.</p>
            <p>1-2 Cake of Compressed Yeast.</p>
            <p>1-2 Teaspoonful of Grated Nutmeg.</p>
            <p>Powdered White Sugar. Boiling Lard.</p>
            <p>Put three cups of water in a saucepan and let it boil hard. Wash
               half a cup of rice thoroughly, and add to the rice, mixing and
               beating well. Add a half cup of sugar and three tablespoonfuls of
               flour, to make the rice adhere. Mix well and beat thoroughly,
               bringing it to a thick batter. Set to rise for fifteen minutes
               longer. Then add about a half teaspoonful of grated nutmeg, and
               mix well. Have ready a frying pan, in which there is sufficient
               quantity of lard boiling for the rice cakes to swim in it. Test
               by dropping in a small piece of bread. If it becomes golden brown
               the lard is ready, but if it burns or browns instantly it is too
               hot. The golden brown color is the true test. Take a large deep
               spoon, and drop a spoonful at a time of the preparation into the
               boiling lard, remembering always that the cake must not touch the
               bottom of the pan. Let fry to a nice brown. The old Cala women
               used to take the Calas piping hot, wrap them in a clean towel,
               basket or bowl, and rush through the streets with the welcome
               cry, "Belle Cala! Tout Chaud!" ringing on the morning air. But in
               families the cook simply takes the Calas out of the frying pan
               and drains off the lard by laying in a colander or on heated
               pieces of brown paper. They are then placed in a hot dish, and
               sprinkled over with powdered white sugar, and eaten hot with Cafe
               au Lait. </p>


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