The Chemistry of Cookery

new milk or butter. It is placed in a little pan like a flower-pot saucer, cooked gently, served as it comes off the fire, and eaten from the vessel in which it is cooked. I have made many a hearty dinner on one of these, _plus_ a lump of black bread and a small bottle of genuine but thin wine; the cost of the whole banquet at a little _auberge_ being usually less than sixpence. The cheese is in a pasty condition, and partly dissolved in the milk or butter. I have tested the sustaining power of such a meal by doing some very stiff mountain climbing and long fasting after it. It is rather too good—over nutritious—for a man only doing sedentary work. A diluted and delicate modification of this may be made by taking slices of bread, or bread and butter, soaking them in a batter made of eggs and milk—without flour—then placing the slices of soaked bread in a pie-dish, covering each with a thick coating of grated cheese, and thus building up a stratified deposit to fill the dish. The surplus batter may be poured over the top; or if time is allowed for saturation, the trouble of preliminary soaking may be saved by simply pouring all the batter thus. This, when gently baked, supplies a delicious and highly nutritious dish. We call it ‘cheese pudding’ at home, but my own experience convinces me that we make a mistake in using it to supplement the joint. It is far too nutritious for this; its savoury character tempts one to eat it so freely that it would be far wiser to use it as the Swiss peasant uses his _fondu_—_i.e._ as the substantial dish of a wholesome dinner. I have tested its digestibility by eating it heartily for supper. No nightmare has followed. If I sup on a corresponding quantity of raw cheese my sleep is miserably eventful. A correspondent writes as follows from the Charlotte Square Young Ladies’ Institution: ‘I have been trying the various ways of cooking cheese mentioned in your articles in “Knowledge,” and