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                 The
             Myrtle Reed
              Cook Book


           [Illustration]


         G. P. Putnam's Sons
         New York     London
       The Knickerbocker Press
                1916


     Copyright, 1905, 1906, 1911
                 by
         G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

           Copyright, 1916
                 by
         G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

  The Knickerbocker Press, New York




    _Over One Million Copies Sold_

    MYRTLE REED


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EXPLANATION


The only excuse the author and publishers have to offer for the
appearance of this book is that, so far as they know, there is no
other like it.




CONTENTS


                                                        PAGE
    The Philosophy of Breakfast                            1

    How to Set the Table                                   9

    The Kitchen Rubaiyat                                  15

    Fruits                                                20

    Cereals                                               39

    Salt Fish                                             58

    Breakfast Meats                                       72

    Substitutes for Meat                                  87

    Eggs                                                  91

    Omelets                                              111

    Quick Breads                                         121

    Raised Breakfast Breads                              147

    Pancakes                                             160

    Coffee Cakes, Doughnuts, and Waffles                 173

    Breakfast Beverages                                  186

    Simple Salads                                        191

    One Hundred Sandwich Fillings                        228

    Luncheon Beverages                                   235

    Eating and Dining                                    241

    Thirty-five Canapes                                  244

    One Hundred Simple Soups                             252

    Fifty Ways to Cook Shell-Fish                        281

    Sixty Ways to Cook Fish                              297

    One Hundred and Fifty Ways to Cook Meat and
      Poultry                                            316

    Twenty Ways to Cook Potatoes                         366

    One Hundred and Fifty Ways to Cook Other
      Vegetables                                         373

    Thirty Simple Sauces                                 423

    One Hundred and Fifty Salads                         431

    Simple Desserts                                      459

    Index                                                531




The Myrtle Reed Cook Book




THE PHILOSOPHY OF BREAKFAST


The breakfast habit is of antique origin. Presumably the primeval man
arose from troubled dreams, in the first gray light of dawn, and set
forth upon devious forest trails, seeking that which he might devour,
while the primeval woman still slumbered in her cave. Nowadays, it is
the lady herself who rises while the day is yet young, slips into a
kimono, and patters out into the kitchen to light the gas flame under
the breakfast food.

In this matter of breaking the fast, each house is law unto itself.
There are some who demand a dinner at seven or eight in the morning,
and others who consider breakfast utterly useless. The Englishman, who
is still mighty on the face of the earth, eats a breakfast which would
seriously tax the digestive apparatus of an ostrich or a goat, and
goes on his way rejoicing.

In an English cook-book only seven years old, menus for "ideal"
breakfasts are given, which run as follows:

"Devilled Drum-sticks and Eggs on the dish, Pigs Feet, Buttered
Toast, Dry Toast, Brown and White Bread and Butter, Marmalade and
Porridge."

"Bloaters on Toast, Collared Tongue, Hot Buttered Toast, Dry Toast,
Marmalade, Brown and White Bread and Butter, Bread and Milk."

"Pigeon Pie, Stewed Kidney, Milk Rolls, Dry Toast, Brown and White
Bread and Butter, Mustard and Cress, Milk Porridge."

And for a "simple breakfast,"--in August, mind you!--this is
especially recommended:

"Bloaters on Toast, Corned Beef, Muffins, Brown and White Bread and
Butter, Marmalade, and Boiled Hominy."

An American who ate a breakfast like that in August probably would not
send his collars to the laundry more than once or twice more, but it
takes all kinds of people to make up a world.

Across the Channel from the brawny Briton is the Frenchman, who, with
infinitely more wisdom, begins his day with a cup of coffee and a
roll. So far, so good, but his _dejeuner a la fourchette_ at eleven or
twelve is not always unobjectionable from a hygienic standpoint. The
"uniform breakfast," which is cheerfully advocated by some, may be
hygienic but it is not exciting. Before the weary mental vision
stretches an endless procession of breakfasts, all exactly alike, year
in and year out. It is quite possible that the "no-breakfast" theory
was first formulated by some one who had been, was, or was about to be
a victim of this system.

The "no-breakfast" plan has much to recommend it, however. In the
first place, it saves a deal of trouble. The family rises, bathes
itself, puts on its spotless raiment in leisurely and untroubled
fashion, and proceeds to the particular business of the day. There are
no burnt toast, soggy waffles, muddy coffee, heavy muffins, or pasty
breakfast food to be reckoned with. Theoretically, the energy supplied
by last night's dinner is "on tap," waiting to be called upon. And,
moreover, one is seldom hungry in the morning, and what is the use of
feeding a person who is not hungry?

It has been often said, and justly, that Americans eat too much.
Considering the English breakfast, however, we may metaphorically pat
ourselves upon the back, for there is no one of us, surely, who taxes
the Department of the Interior thus.

"What is one man's meat is another man's poison" has been held
pointedly to refer to breakfast, for here, as nowhere else, is the
individual a law unto himself. Fruit is the satisfaction of one and
the distress of another; cereal is a life-giving food to one and a
soggy mass of indigestibility to some one else; and coffee, which is
really most innocent when properly made, has lately taken much blame
for sins not its own.

Quite often the discomfort caused by the ill-advised combination of
acid fruit with a starchy cereal has been attributed to the clear,
amber beverage which probably was the much-vaunted "nectar of the
gods." Coffee with cream in it may be wrong for some people who could
use boiling milk with impunity.

For a woman who spends the early part of the day at home, the omission
of breakfast may be salutary. When hunger seizes her, she is within
reach of her own kitchen, where proper foods may be properly cooked,
but for a business woman or man the plan is little less than suicidal.
Mr. Man may, indeed, go down town in comfort, with no thought of food,
but, no later than noon, he is keenly desirous of interior decoration.
Within his reach there is, usually, but the lunch counter, where, in
company with other hapless humans, he sustains himself with leathery
pie, coffee which never met the coffee bean, and the durable doughnut
of commerce. The result is--to put it mildly--discontent, which
seemingly has no adequate cause.

It is better, by far, for Mr. Man to eat a breakfast which shall
contain the proteids, carbohydrates, phosphates, and starches that he
will require during the day, and omit the noon luncheon entirely,
except, perhaps, for a bit of fruit. Moreover, a dainty breakfast,
daintily served, has a distinct aesthetic value. The temper of the
individual escorted to the front door by a devoted spouse has more
than a little to do with the temper of the selfsame individual who is
let in at night by the aforesaid D. S.

Many a man is confronted in the morning by an untidy, ill-cooked
breakfast, a frowsy woman and a still frowsier baby, and, too often,
by querulous whinings and complaints.

The ancient Britons had a pleasing arrangement which they called "The
Truce of God." By this, there was no fighting whatever, no matter what
the provocation, between sunset on Wednesday and sunrise on Monday.
This gave time for other affairs, and for the exercise of patience,
toleration, and other virtues of the same ilk.

Many a household might take a leaf from this book to good advantage.
Settle all differences after dinner, since at no time of the day is
man in more reasonable mood, and ordain a "Truce of God" from dawn
until after dinner.

No dinner, however beautifully cooked and served, no fine raiment,
however costly and becoming, can ever atone, in the memory of a man,
for the wild and untamed morning which too often prevails in the
American household. His mind, distraught with business cares, harks
back to his home--with pleasure? None too often, more's the pity.

Some one has said that, in order to make a gentleman, one must begin
with the grandfather. It is equally true that a good and proper
breakfast begins the night before--or, better yet, the morning before.

Careful, systematic planning in advance lightens immeasurably the
burden of housekeeping, and, many a time, makes the actual work
nothing but fun. Those who have tried the experiment of planning meals
for the entire week are enthusiastic in praise of the system. It
secures variety, simplifies marketing, arranges for left-overs, and
gives many an hour of peace and comfort which could not be had
otherwise.

Even if a woman be her own maid, as, according to statistics,
eighty-five per cent. of us are, a dainty, hygienic, satisfying
breakfast is hers and her lord's for little more than the asking. By
careful preparation in advance, the morning labor is reduced to a
minimum; by the intelligent use of lists and memoranda, the weary and
reluctant body is saved many an unnecessary step.

An alarm clock of the "intermittent" sort insures early rising, a dash
of cold water on the face is a physical and mental tonic of the most
agreeable kind, and one hour in the morning is worth two at night, as
the grandmothers of all of us have often said.

Fruit, usually, may be prepared for serving the night before, and will
be improved by a few hours in the refrigerator. Cereals should be
soaked over night in the water in which they are to be cooked, and a
few hours' cooking in the afternoon will injure very few cereals
destined for the breakfast table the next morning. Codfish balls and
many other things will be none the worse for a night's waiting; the
table can be set, and everything made ready for a perfect breakfast,
which half an hour of intelligent effort in the morning will readily
evolve.

A plea is made for the use of the chafing-dish, which is fully as
attractive at the breakfast table as in the "wee sma' hours" in which
it usually shines; for a white apron instead of a gingham one when "my
lady" is also the cook; for a crisp, clean shirt-waist instead of an
abominable dressing-sack; for smooth, tidy hair, instead of unkempt
locks; for a collar and a belt, and a persistent, if determined,
cheerfulness.

In the long run, these things pay, and with compound interest at that.
They involve a certain amount of labor, a great deal of careful
planning, eternal getting-up when it is far more pleasant to abide in
dreamland, quite often a despairing weariness, if not a headache, and
no small draft upon one's power of self-denial and self-sacrifice.

But he who goes in the morning from a quiet, comfortable, well-ordered
house, with a pleasant memory of the presiding genius of his
hearthstone, is twice the man that his fellow may be, whose wife
breakfasts at ten in her bed, or, frowsy and unkempt, whines at him
from across a miserable breakfast--twice as well fitted for the
ceaseless grind of an exhausting day in the business arena, whence he
returns at night, footsore, weary, and depressed, to the four walls
wherein he abides.

    "How far that little candle throws its beams!
    So shines a good deed in a naughty world."

To some, this may seem an undue stress laid upon the material side of
existence, but the human animal needs animal comforts even more than
his brother of forest and field, and from such humble beginnings great
things may come, not the least of which is the fine, spiritual essence
of a happy home.




HOW TO SET THE TABLE


Having said so much, we proceed, not to our mutton, as the French have
it, but to our breakfast, in which the table plays no small nor
unimportant part.

There are rumors that the pretty and sensible fashion of doilies on
the bare table is on the wane, but let us hope these are untrue, or,
if not, that some of us may have the courage of our convictions and
continue to adhere to a custom which has everything in its favor and
nothing against it.

In the absence of handsome top of oak or mahogany, the breakfast
cloths, fringed or not, as one likes, which are about a yard and a
quarter square, are the next best thing. Asbestos mats, under the
cloth, protect the table from the hot dishes. Failing these, fairly
satisfactory substitutes are made from thin white oil-cloth, between
two layers of canton flannel, "fur side outside," and quilted on the
machine. Grass table-mats are also used, but always under cloth or
doily. Canton flannel, quilted, three layers to a mat, is easily
washed, and furnishes a great deal of protection.

Breakfast, most assuredly, is not dinner, and there should be a
distinct difference in the laying of the table. The small doilies are
easily washed, and fresh ones are possible every morning--an assured
gain in the way of daintiness.

Let us suppose that we have a handsome table-top, and an unlimited
supply of doilies, tray-cloths and centrepieces. First the centrepiece
goes on, exactly in the centre, by the way, and not with a prejudiced
leaning to one side or the other. On this belongs the pot of growing
fern, the low jar containing a few simple flowers, or a bowl of fruit,
decorated with green leaves, if green leaves are to be had.

At each place the breakfast doily, nine or twelve inches square, a
small doily for the coffee cup, and another for the glass of water. At
the right of the plate, the small silver knife, sharp edge toward the
plate, the spoons for fruit and cereal; at the left, one fork, or two,
as needed, and the coffee spoon.

In front of the master of the house the small platter containing the
_piece de resistance_ will eventually be placed; in front of the
mistress of the mansion, the silver tray bearing the coffee
service--coffee-pot, hot-water pitcher, cream jug, milk pitcher, and
sugar bowl.

Breakfast napkins are smaller than dinner napkins, and the small
fringed napkins are not out of place. "Costly thy habit as thy purse
will buy" might well refer to linen, for it is the one thing in which
price is a direct guarantee of quality.

Satisfactory breakfast cloths and napkins are made of linen sheeting,
fringed, hemstitched, or carefully hemmed by hand, and in this way a
pretty cloth can be had for less money than in any other. The linen
wears well, washes beautifully, and acquires a finer sheen with every
tubbing. Insertions and borders of torchon or other heavy lace make a
breakfast cloth suitable for the most elaborate occasion, and separate
doilies may easily be made to match. The heavy white embroidery which
has recently come into favor is unusually attractive here.

Finger-bowls wait on the sideboard, to be placed after the fruit
course, or after breakfast. The rose-water, slice of lemon, geranium
leaves, and other finger-bowl refinements in favor for dinners are out
of place at breakfast. Clear, cool water is in better taste.

The china used at the breakfast table should be different from that
used at dinner. Heavier ware is permissible, and more latitude in the
way of decoration is given. Much of the breakfast china one sees in
the shops is distinctly cheerful in tone, and one must take care to
select the more quiet patterns. It is not pleasant to go to breakfast
with a fickle appetite, and be greeted by a trumpet-toned "Good
Morning" from the china.

Endless difference is allowed, however, and all the quaint, pretty
jugs, pitchers, and plates may properly be used at breakfast. One is
wise, however, to have a particular color scheme in mind and to buy
all china to blend with it. Blue and white is a good combination, and
is, perhaps, more suitable for the morning meal than anything else. As
a certain philosopher says: "The blue and white look so pretty with
the eggs!"

The carafe, muffin plate, platter, and all other bowls, platters,
plates, and pitchers not on the individual cover have each a separate
doily, with the protecting mat always under hot dishes. A well-set
table is governed by a simple law--that of precision. Dishes arranged
in an order little less than military, all angles either right or
acute, will, for some occult reason, always look well. Informality may
be given by the arrangement of the flowers, or by a flower or two laid
carelessly on the table. But one must be careful not to trifle too
much with this law of precision. Knives, forks, and spoons must all be
laid straight, but not near enough together to touch, and napkins and
dishes must be precisely placed, else confusion and riot will result.

The breakfast selected as a type consists of fruit, a cereal, salt
fish, or salt meat, or eggs, or omelets, hot bread of some kind, and
pancakes or waffles, or coffee cake, one dish from each group, and
coffee. Six dishes in all, which may be less if desired, but never
more. All six form a breakfast sufficiently hearty for a stone mason
or a piano mover; one or two give a breakfast light enough to tempt
those who eat no breakfast at all. For serving it are required small
and medium-sized plates, knives, forks, spoons, egg cups, platters,
service plates, cups and saucers, glasses, coffee-pot, pitchers, sugar
bowl, and cream jug, syrup pitcher, and fruit bowl.

Fruit is said to be "gold in the morning," and it is a poor breakfast,
indeed, from which it is omitted. Even in winter it is not hard to
secure variety, if time and thought be taken, for the dried fruits are
always in the market and by careful cooking may be made acceptable to
the most uncertain appetite.

Medical authorities recommend a glass of water taken the first thing
upon rising, either hot or cold as suits one best. A little
lemon-juice takes the "flat" taste from plain hot water, and clear,
cool water, not iced, needs nothing at all. This simple observance of
a very obvious hygienic rule will temper the tempestuous morning for
any one. One washes his face, his hands, his body--then why not his
stomach, which has worked hard a large part of the night, and is
earnestly desirous of the soothing refreshment of a bath?

To those carping critics who cavil at the appearance of the stomach
in a chapter entitled "How to Set the Table," we need only say that
the table is set for the stomach, and the stomach should be set for
the table, and anyway, it comes very near being a table of contents,
_n'est-ce pas_?




THE KITCHEN RUBAIYAT


    Wake, for the Alarm Clock scatters into Flight
    The variegated Nightmares of the Night;
      Allures the Gas into the Kitchen Range
    And pleads for Rolls and Muffins that are Light.

    Before the Splendor of the last Dream died
    Methought a Voice from out my Doorway cried:
      "When all the Breakfast is Prepared for him
    Why doth my lord within his Crib abide?"

    And, as the cat Purred, she who was Before
    Within the Kitchen shouted: "Guard the Door!
      Else this new Bridget will have Flown the Coop
    And, once Departed, will Return no More!"

    All maids in sight the Wise One gladly Hires
    And one of them she Presently acquires,
      Yet toward the Bureau does not fail to Look
    Because all Maids, as well as Men, are liars.

    For Mary Ann has gone, with all her Woes,
    And Dinah, too, has fled--where, no one knows,
      But still a Bridget from the Bureau comes
    And many a Tekla of her Reference blows.

    Come, fill the Cup, and let the Kettle Sing!
    The Cream and Sugar and Hot Water bring!
      Methinks this fragrant liquid amber here
    Within the Pot, is pretty much the Thing.

    Each Morn a thousand Cereals brings, you say?
    Yes, but where leaves the Food of Yesterday?
      And this same Grocer man that sells us Nerve
    Shall take Pa's Wheat and Mother's Oats away.

    For lo, my small Back Yard is thickly Strown
    With Ki-Tee-Munch, Chew-Chew, and Postman's Own
      Where Apple-Nuts and Strength have been Forgot--
    Ah, how these Papers by the Winds are Blown!

    The tender Waffle hearts are Set upon
    Is either Crisp or Soggy, and Anon
      Like Maple Syrup made of corn and Cobs
    Lasts but a scant Five Minutes, and is Gone.

    I often think that never gets so Red
    My flower-like Nose as when I've just been Fed
      And after Breakfast, in the Glass I look,
    And never Fail to Wish that I were dead.

    And this faint Sallow Place upon my Mien--
    How came it There? From that fair Coffee Bean?
      Ah, take the Glass away! Make Haste unless
    You want to see my Whole Complexion green.

    When I was Younger, I did oft Frequent
    The Married Bunch, and heard Great Argument
      About the Fearful Price of Eggs, and How
    To get a Dollar's Work out of a Cent.

    And when I asked them of their Recompense,
    What did they Get for Keeping Down Expense--
      Oh, many a cup of Coffee, Steaming Hot,
    Must drown the Memory of their Insolence!

    If I were Married 't would be my Desire
    To get up Every Morn and Build the Fire
      For fear my Husband should use Kerosene,
    And, without warning, be transported Higher.

    Ah, with the Coffee all my Years provide!
    Its chemicals may turn me green Inside,
      But all my Fears are Scattered to the Winds
    When o'er the fragrant Pot I can Preside.

    I blame our Mother Eve, who did mistake
    Her Job, and flirted Somewhat with the Snake,
      For all the Errors of the Flaky Roll,
    For all the Terrors of the Buckwheat Cake.

    A glass of Creamy Milk just from the Cow,
    Or Buttermilk, drawn from the Goat, I trow,
      And thou across the Festal Board from Me,
    A Six-Room Flat were Paradise enow!

    Some for a Patent Bread that will not Crumb,
    And nary Bite of Cereal for Some--
      Ah, take the Coffee! Let all else go by
    Nor heed the Thick White Fur upon the Tongue.

    Look to the Human Wrecks about us: lo,
    About their Indigestion how they Blow,
      And lay the Blame on Coffee, crystal Clear,
    Or say the Crisp Hot Muffin is their Foe!

    And those who chew and chew upon the Grain,
    Have got so used to Chewing, they are Fain
      To Dwell upon their Health Food in their Talk
    And presently their Neighbors go Insane.


FOOT-NOTES

1. The author began with the intention of adapting the entire Rubaiyat
to kitchen purposes, but thought better of it just in time to head off
the Lyric Muse, who was coming at full gallop, with her trunk.

2. Those who do not like The Kitchen Rubaiyat will doubtless be glad
there is no more of it.

3. Those who do like it can begin at the beginning and read it again.
The rest of it would be about like this installment, anyway.

P. S. If the demand is great enough, the rest of it may appear in
another book.

P. S. 2. The publisher of this book has an unalterable prejudice
against printing poetry, but he allowed The Kitchen Rubaiyat to slip
by without question.

P. S. 3.?




FRUITS IN SEASON


    Apples                             All the year.
    Apricots                           July 20 to August 20.
    Bananas                            All the year.
    Blackberries                       July 1 to August 15.
    Cherries                           June 1 to July 15.
    Currants, Red and White            July 1 to August 15.
    Figs, dried                        All the year.
    Figs, bag                          October and November.
    Gooseberries                       July.
    Grapes, Concord                    August 20 to November 15.
      "     Malaga                     November to March.
      "     California                 December to March.
    Grapefruit                         October to July.
    Green Gage Plums                   August 1 to September 15.
    Huckleberries                      July and August.
    Melons, Musk, Water, Cantaloupe    July 15 to October 15.
    Oranges                            December to May.
    Peaches                            August and September.
    Pears                              August and September.
    Pineapples                         June to September.
    Plums, Blue                        September.
    Quinces                            September, October, and November.
    Rhubarb                            April to September.
    Raspberries, Black and Red         July and August.
    Strawberries                       May and June.
    Tangerines                         November to February.

The above table, of course, is only a rough outline, as seasons and
localities vary so much. The tendency, too, is to extend the season of
every fruit indefinitely, as transporting and refrigerating methods
improve. Fruit out of season is always expensive, and often unripe and
unsatisfactory. Fortunately, when it is at its best it is always
abundant and at the lowest price.

Among the dried fruits may be mentioned Prunelles, Apricots, Apples,
Blackberries, Cherries, Nectarines, Peaches, peeled and unpeeled,
Pears, Plums, Raspberries, Prunes, Figs, and Dates. Canned fruits
which may be used for breakfast, with proper preparation, are Pears,
Peaches, Apricots, Cherries, Plums, and Pineapples.

Dried fruits may be soaked over night in the water in which they are
to be cooked, and simmered slowly, until they are tender, with little
sugar or none at all. They may also be steamed, either with or
without sugar, omitting the soaking, until tender enough for a straw
to pierce. Combinations of dried fruits are often agreeable, and a few
raisins will sometimes add a pleasant flavor.

Canned fruits intended for breakfast should be drained and very
thoroughly rinsed in cold water, then allowed to stand for some hours
in a cool place.

Many of the fruits, both dried and fresh, combine well with cereals.
Care must be taken, however, to follow such acid fruits as Currants,
Cherries, Oranges, and Grapefruit, with meat or egg dishes, omitting
the cereal, as the starch and acid are very likely to fight with each
other when once inside, to the inconvenience of the non-combatant. A
fruit which for any reason tastes "flat" can be instantly improved in
flavor and tonic quality by a sprinkle of lemon-juice.

Below are given different ways of preparing fruit for the breakfast
table.


APPLES

I. When served whole, apples should be carefully washed and rubbed to
a high polish with a crash towel. Only perfect fruit should be served
in this way, and green leaves in the fruit bowl are especially
desirable. Fruit-knives are essential.

II. Pare, quarter, and core good eating apples, removing all
imperfections. Serve a few quarters on each plate, with or without
sugar. A sprinkle of cinnamon or lemon-juice will improve fruit which
has little flavor. A grating of nutmeg may also be used.

III. _A la Conde._--Pare, quarter, and core good cooking apples.
Arrange in rows in an earthen baking-dish, sprinkle with powdered
sugar and lemon-juice, pour a little water into the baking-dish, and
add a heaping tablespoonful of butter. Bake slowly, basting frequently
with the apple-juice and melted butter. When tender, take out, drain,
and cool, saving the juice. Serve with boiled rice or other cereal,
using the juice instead of milk.

IV. _A la Cherbourg._--Pare and core good cooking apples; halve or
quarter if desired. Cook slowly in a thin syrup flavored with
lemon-peel and a bit of ginger-root. Serve separately or with cereal.

V. _A la Fermiere._--Pare and core the apples and arrange in a
well-buttered baking-dish. Sprinkle slightly with sugar and cinnamon;
baste often with melted butter, and serve with boiled rice or other
cereal, using the juice instead of milk.

VI. _A la Francaise._--Core and then peel tart apples. Put into cold
water from half an inch to an inch in depth, sprinkle with sugar,
cover tightly, and cook very slowly on the back part of the range
till tender. Flavorings already noted may be added at pleasure. Skim
out the apples, reduce the remaining syrup one-half by rapid boiling,
pour over the apples, and cool. Serve cold, with or without cereal.

VII. _A la Ninon._--Sprinkle baked apples with freshly grated cocoanut
on taking from the oven. Serve on a mound of boiled rice with the milk
of the cocoanut.

VIII. _A la Religieuse._--Core cooking apples; score the skin deeply
in a circle all around the fruit. Sprinkle a little sugar in the
cores, and dissolve a little currant jelly in the water used for the
basting. Cook slowly, and baste once with melted butter. The peel is
supposed to rise all around the apple, like a veil--hence the name.

IX. _Baked._--Peel or not, as preferred. Sprinkle with melted butter
and sugar, baste now and then with hot water, and serve separately or
with cereal.

X. _Baked, with Bananas._--Core, draw a peeled and scraped banana
through each core, trimming the ends off even, and bake slowly,
basting with hot water, melted butter, and lemon-juice. The apples may
be peeled if desired. Serve separately, or with cereal.

XI. _Baked, with Cereal._--Pare or not, as