585. Compote de grenade.

Prepare a syrup of sugar au grand boulé (see 2nd degree, page 251), and throw into it the seeds of a pomegranate; let them boil in it for a minute, and pour them upon a dish with the syrup.

586. Compote de pêches à froid.

Choose six large ripe peaches. Peel them and cut them in thin slices; lay them upon a dish, sift pounded sugar over them, and pour a wineglassful of Kirschenwasser upon them.

You may use rum or brandy instead of Kirschen

wasser.

587. Compote d'abricots à froid.

Peel some apricots, divide them through the middle, and proceed as above.

588. Compote d'oranges.

Peel and quarter six fine oranges, remove the white peel, and proceed as for No. 586, above.

589. Cerises pelées.

Peel thirty large cherries, cut off half of the stalks, dip the cherries in pounded sugar, and lay them upon plates; leave a good space between the cherries. Put the plates in a place where the sun shines; let them remain for a quarter of an hour. Then take them

into the cellar and let them remain there until you serve them.

590. Groseilles perlees.

Choose some fine bunches of red and white currants, dip them first into cold water, then in pounded sugar, and finish them as cerises pelées, No. 589, page 242.

CHAPTER XX.

BOISSONS CHAUDES (HOT DRINKS).

591. Café au lait.

I think that the best way for making coffee is to have it mixed. Mocha is the most delicious of all coffees, but it is weak, Martinique is strong and exciting, and the aroma of Bourbon is penetrating. I mix the three kinds together in equal quantity.

Coffee, to be good, ought to be kept long, and only a small quantity of it should be roasted at a time, and you must grind it every time you require any: I have known gourmets who would have it roasted and ground every day, but as it would be a great deal of trouble, and that sometimes you require a cup of coffee at a moment's notice, it is better to roast coffee every fortnight, but to grind it only the moment you want it, else it will taste like dust.

Roast your coffee, and when it is sufficiently done, pour it out into a porcelain vase and cover it; let it become quite cold and put it in large glass bottles, hermetically corked, until wanted. Tin filters are not very well adapted for making coffee, because coffee

corrodes tin; earthen filters or percolators are the

best apparatus.

Have ready some boiling water, put it in a pan, and set the filter into it to keep the liquor warm whilst it runs out of the coffee; put in the filter a table-spoonful of coffee for every cupful of water, add one table-spoonful of chicory to every three table-spoonfuls of coffee; pour the boiling water upon it. Let it remain in hot water until all the liquor is in the lower part of the filter, take off the top part, put the lid upon the filter, and serve the coffee with boiled milk.

In France we make this coffee very strong, for we fill up the cups to two-thirds with boiled milk and a third of coffee.

If you do not like the taste of chicory, you may omit it and put in a little more coffee, for chicory is only good with milk.

592. Café à l'eau.

It is the custom in France to drink weak coffee, without any cream or milk in it, after the déjeûner à la fourchette, and frequently after dinner.

For café à l'eau follow the above directions, only do not put any chicory; and the quantity of coffee to be used is two dessert-spoonfuls for three cups of water.*

As café à l'eau is generally served in a silver coffeepot, pour some boiling water into it, to warm it, before

* I mean French coffee-cups, which contain about as much as a wineglass.

you put in the coffee; throw the water out, pour the coffee into it, and serve it as hot as possible.

Brandy is generally served with café à l'eau.

It should be remembered that coffee ought never to be warmed up on the fire; it would be spoiled. If any coffee remains, put it in a coffee-pot, which you set in boiling water; let it remain there until the coffee is sufficiently hot.

593. The

I shall not venture to give any receipts for making tea, for my readers are sure to know better than I do. Tea is in England what coffee is in France—a national drink; and I can say that I never drank tea in France comparable to English-made tea, although we have to pay exorbitant prices to get what is called a good quality. It may be that Russian tea at two guineas a pound is good, but it is dear, even for a good thing, and most people cannot give such a price; so they buy a little green tea at a small grocer's shop, and not unfrequently at the apothecary's, and make with it a detestable drink; for the tea is bad and the way of making it is bad.

What I have just been saying might be thought exaggerated, but I shall prove it by a little anecdote. An English gentleman was one day complaining bitterly about the want of good tea that exists in France, and said that since he had left England he had not tasted a cup of really good tea. A Frenchman immediately offered to send him a small quantity which had been given to him by an English