IN an early chapter of these jottings, I observed that amongst the accessories of an artistic dinner, a good salad, though not entered in the menu perhaps, was still expected to be present. On the continent we find the salad handed to us, as a matter of course, with the "rot." "Pullet au cresson, - salade" is, of course, a familiar item in the French menu. This custom is being fast adopted in England by those who are quick to mark that which their neighbours do well. There can be no doubt whatever that this method of dressing raw vegetables, if correctly done, is wholesome, and a singularly commendable staple of diet for people who live in hot climates, There are ailments to which the Englishman seems to be especially prone, which are comparatively unknown by Spaniards and Italians with whom raw vegetables, and oil are daily food. A careful study then, of what we can do in India in this branch of cookery, is worthy of every man's attention.

We all know that a salad demands two things :- its vegetable foundation, and its dressing, both of which may be a good deal varied.

First, as regards the foundation of a salad. This may be composed of cooked, as well as of raw materials: the vegetables principally employed being, lettuces (cabbage, and coss), endive, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, parsley, young radishes, garden-cress, and water-cress, in the latter condition; and in the former, beet-root, French beans, flageolets, potatoes, artichokes, cauliflower, turnip-tops, asparagus, cabbage, vegetable marrow, and young carrots. With cold cooked country vegetables, I have made capital salads; young brinjals. the mollay-keeray, bandecai, country beans, greens of sorts, and little pumpkins gathered very young, are all worthy of treatment in this way.

Touching salad-dressing a great deal might be written, for concerning its composition cookery books seem to possess "a thousand several tongues," and every tongue to bring in "a several tale." Let us try and be contented, however, with a few standard ones, remembering that salads may be clothed in simplicity, as well as in grandeur.

True connoisseurs, I think, adhere, as a rule, to the very simplest: that is to say, the simplest as far as the component parts, and the process of mixing them, are concerned. The artist's hand and eye, and some little experience to boot are, of course, essential to acquire that nicety of judgment of quantify which a plain dressing demands. It is. therefore, the hardest to describe.

Let me lead off with one general law for every salad, of which English people are, collectively speaking, ignorant. It is this :-

Abstain from the vinegar bottle as much as possible. You do not want an acid dish at all. Vinegar is merely added to lend a peculiar flavour to the composition, and to assist it with an almost imperceptible pungency. That most pernicious advice :-

" Four times the spoon with oil of Lucca crown, And twice with vinegar procured from town" should be shunned most studiously. The correct use of vinegar is, therefore, to my mind the feature which contains the main difficulty in mixing a salad.

The following rules for plain salad-dressing may be trusted I think:-

Pull the leaves of the lettuce from the stalk with your hand, rejecting all that are bruised and discoloured, turn those at all muddy into a basin, wash them well, and drain them thoroughly on a sieve, tossing them lightly in a cloth afterwards to get rid of every drop of water. Leaves that are quite clean ought not to be wetted at all. When dry, put the leaves into the bowl, and work them about with the wooden spoon and fork whilst an assistant sprinkles over them a libation of the finest oil you can buy. As soon as every leaf is thoroughly anointed, - glittering with a coating of moisture as it were, - shake over them a few drops of tarragon vinegar, and dust them with salt, and some coarse, freshly ground black pepper. The spoon and fork must be kept going during the addition of the vinegar drops, and also whilst ""he pepper and salt are being dusted into the bowl. The thing: to avoid is a sediment of dressing-. The leaves lying at the bottom of the bowl must, in that case, become sodden, and so the crispness you desire to maintain will be marred. A thorough lubrication is all that has to be accomplished. I picked this up several years ago from a French waiter at Verrey's dining-rooms in London: it was surprising how much oil was caught up by the dry crisp leaves, and how little vinegar was put in as a finishing touch by this accomplished Gargon.

Observe, pray, that it is quite out of the question to give fixed quantities with regard to the mixing of this kind of salad. The quantity of oil, and of the other ingredients, must obviously depend on the quantity of green stuff.

This is the only dressing possible in the case of an endive (chicoree) salad; for which it is essential that the bowl be rubbed with garlic.

Very finely minced onion, curled parsley, and garden-cress may be sprinkled over the lettuce leaves after the oil has been worked into them, but for dinner parties perhaps the "violet" had better be omitted (valuable as it is) or its absence supplied by a drop or two of shallot vinegar.

And this leads me to aromatic vinegars, "without which," to use the outfitters favourite form of advertisement, "no salad-maker's equipment can be considered complete":-

1. - Tarragon Vinegar,

2. - Anchovy Vinegar,

3. - Shallot Vinegar

4. Elder Vinegar, 5. - Garlic Vinegar.

These are all procurable at the shops of the leading preserved provision merchants at Madras, but the salad artist should make his own peculiar vinegars, and use them, according to judgment, to vary the too-often repeated flavours of ordinary compositions. Here are a few suggestions :-

"Fines herbes vinegar"

To half a pint of tarragon vinegar, add a table-spoonful of minced garden-cress, a table-spoonful of minced marjoram, a clove of garlic, two small green capsicums shred, and one minced shallot. Or :- To the same vinegar, add the finely-pared rind of three limes, a dozen cloves, a dozen pepper corns, and the same green herbs and onion.