as palatable as it was attractive in appearance.
When I questioned cook as to its origin, she laughed
and told me that it was simply the meat scraped and
cut from the remains of a joint which had already
done duty twice, both in the dining room and the
kitchen, and this meat she had mixed with scraps
from the carcase of a fowl in the stock pot, a kidney
left over from the morning's breakfast, and some tiny
rolls of bacon. “And,” she added, “I really had
not time to mince the meat properly, so I just cut it
into as neat shreds as I could.” She had then taken
a half cauliflower (cold) intended to serve as a gratin
next day, had broken it up small, mixing it with the
melted butter over from the fish, together with some
grated cheese, salt, and pepper (both white and red),
had arranged it round a hot dish, and stood it in the
oven till hot, when she had poured her fricassée into
the middle, covering it all with tomato sauce made in
a hurry with half a bottle of French tomato purée,
and a little stock from the stock pot. I was after-
wards entreated by our guest's wife for the recipe of
“that lovely little French dish you had the other
night.”
Fritters, again, are an excellent way of using up
remains of any sort, fish, flesh, or fowl, especially if
a few scraps of vegetables are used with them. Most
people who have stayed in Italy have learnt to
appreciate a well made frittura. The meat should
be as varied as possible, and should always be
marinaded for an hour or so before use in oil, lemon
juice, sliced onion, parsley, etc. (using a gill of best
salad oil, the juice of one medium lemon, three or