(d) - Put two ounces of good tinned butter into a stew-pan, and mix into it, as it melts over a brisk fire, a white Bombay onion shred into rings, and a clove of garlic finely minced. Lightly fry, but do not allow the onions to turn colour before adding a table-spoonful of good flour, a dessert-spoonful of turmeric powder, a tea-spoonful of salt, and a scant one of sugar, a tea-spoonful of mixed cloves and cinnamon powder, and, by degrees, the "number two infusion." A breakfast-cupful of thick chicken broth, or fish consomme - made by simmering some fish bones, prawn shells, and scraps of fish, in water, with an onion, a carrot, and some parsley - may now go in to assist the composition, together with a heaped-up table-spoonful of sliced green ginger, and three green chillies cut into Julienne-like strips. The liquid is now ready for the prawns, so remove the stew-pan from the fire, and place it in a bath of boiling water, to keep warm, while you add the prawns and the slices of partly-cooked cucumber. It will be found an excellent plan to permit the curry - now all but ready - to rest for about half an hour, at the expiration of which the pan may be placed over a moderate fire, and its contents brought to simmering point. When satisfied thai both the prawns and vegetable are tender, the "number one" infusion may be stirred in, and with it a tea-spoonful of lime-juice. Five minutes' simmering will now complete our task, and the curry can be dished up, and served.

It should be noted carefully that the water found inside a cocoanut is not "cocoanut milk" according to the culinary vocabulary. The infusion is what should be used in curry-making.

Fillets of any firm-fleshed. or even neat fillets of chicken, may be treated precisely in the manner I have described. As however, it is necessary partly to cook prawns, crabs, lobsters, shrimps, etc., separately, a longer process of simmering will be necessary for raw fillets. The pieces of chicken should be lightly tossed in butter in a saute-pan with a finely-shred onion, before being put into the curry sauce.

The moli is prepared in this manner :- Melt a couple of ounces of butter, and fry therein an onion sliced into rings, and a clove of garlic minced, a few strips of green chilli, and some slices of green ginger; stir into it a table-spoonful of flour, and add by degrees the " number two infusion" just alluded to. Work this to the consistency of a rich white sauce adding a little broth if necessary, heat up some slices of cooked fish or chicken in it, and finish off, as already described, with "number one infusion," and a tea-spoonful of lime-juice. A little turmeric powder may be used if the yellow colour be considered desirable. If raw fish be used, the simmering process will be necessary Old Indian cookery books give a number of recipes for kubab curries, for the most part of purely native design, and requiring condiments and ingredients which were perhaps appreciated by our forefathers who adopted an almost Oriental method of life. The best kubab, to my mind, is one made of tender mutton or veal, and treated as follows:-

Cut the mutton into thickish pieces, about an inch square and half an inch thick; cut out of some slices of good bacon some pieces an inch square also, but about a quarter the thickness of the mutton; cut up some pieces of parboiled white onion upon the same pattern as the bacon, and some thin slices of green ginger to match. Impale these mixed pieces upon small plated or silver skewers, or upon thinly-cut wooden ones, maintaining the order I have given, viz., first a piece of mutton, then a piece of bacon, then a bit of onion, and lastly, the thin slice of green ginger. Having repeated this until the skewer is filled, go on with another. When all have been completed, the kubabs should be simmered in a good curry sauce as recommended for chicken curry. Before being added to the sauce, however, they should be lightly tossed in butter in a saute-pan with an onion sliced, a tea-spoonful of salt, and one of sugar. The introduction of the slice of bacon is a very great improvement.

The "quoorma," if well made, is undoubtedly an excellent curry. It used, I believe, to be one of the best at the Madras Club, in days when curries commanded closer attention than they do now.

Cut up about a pound of very tender mutton without any bone, and stir the pieces about in a big bowl with a dessert-spoonful of pounded green ginger, and a sprinkling of salt. Melt a quarter of a pound of butter in a stew-pan, and throw into it a couple of white onions cut into rings, and a couple of cloves of garlic finely minced. Fry for about five minutes, and then add a tea-spoonful of pounded coriander-seed, one of pounded black pepper, half one of pounded cardomoms, and half one of pounded cloves. Cook this for five minutes, then put in the meat, and stir over a moderate fire until the pieces seem tender, and have browned nicely. Now, take the pan from the fire, and work into it a strong infusion obtained from four ounces of well-pounded almonds, and a breakfast-cupful of cream. Mix thoroughly, adding a dessert-spoonful of turmeric powder, and a tea-spoonful of sugar. Put the pan over a very low fire, and let the curry simmer as gently as possible for a quarter of an hour, finishing off with the juice of a couple of limes. This, it will be perceived, is another curry of a rich yet mild description. The total absence of chilli, indeed, constitute, in the opinion of many, its chief attraction.

According to the ancient canons by which the service of curries was regulated, Chutneys of various kinds were considered as essentially necessary as the lordly platter of rice which, of course, accompanied them. These may be divided into two distinct classes : the preserved or bottled chutneys, and those that are made of fresh materials on the spot. Of the former I need say nothing : they are easily procured, and most people know the kind that suits them best. But concerning the latter, I think a little reflection will be found advantageous. There can be no doubt that the presentation of these chutneys, - the little hors d'oeuvres, so to speak, of the curry service, - has of late years passed quietly into desuetude. This has been the result, to be sure, of the disappearance of curries from the menu of the modern dinner, and the very moderate degree of attention that they now command at our hands. Assuming, however, that those who still occasionally patronize the dish would rather see it at its best, and served correctly than not, I will go on with a few recipes that will be found easy enough.