The recipes given in the next chapter will serve to show how these various addenda may be utilised, and an intelligent cook will very soon learn to vary her entrees almost indefinitely.

Lastly come the mayonnaises. As a general principle the foundation of these is the mayonnaise sauce. For this a recipe is given in the chapter dedicated to sauces, but it may be varied in plenty of ways; for instance, the blending together of a gill each of rich mayonnaise, tomato puree, and just liquid aspic, with a spoonful of tarragon vinegar, produces a beautiful tomato mayonnaise, which may be made with tomato ketchup (in this case omit the subsequent vinegar), conserve de tomates, or the fresh vegetable, as you choose. If necessary, a drop or two of carmine may be permitted to bring up the colour, but for pity's sake do not overdo this!

Remember that though every mayonnaise is more or less of a salad, a salad is not necessarily a mayonnaise.

A mayonnaise is especially dear to the economic, if dainty, housewife, as by its means so many pretty dishes may be improvised at comparatively short notice out of the veriest scraps. For instance, say you have on the previous day had a duck for dinner, which, though but little has been eaten, has been decidedly mangled in the carving. Cut this duck up into the smallest and neatest joints, mix together three large tablespoonfuls of rich, mayonnaise with half a pint of just liquid aspic, stirring into this as you mix it two tablespoonfuls or so of minced and blanched olives, a good dust of coralline pepper, and, if at hand, a tablespoonful of stiffly whipped cream, mask the duck joints with this, and leave them till set. Have ready some quartered cabbage lettuce, carefully removing the outer leaves; break up these outer leaves as small as possible with your fingers (do not use a knife on any consideration), mix them with any scrapings from the carcase of the duck, a few minced olives, some washed, boned, and filleted anchovies, and half a pint of rich mayonnaise sauce.

Arrange a thick bed of this on a dish, pile the mayonnaise-covered joints on top and surround it all with the quartered lettuce, some quartered hard-boiled eggs, and, if at hand, a little finely chopped aspic jelly, and you will have a dish no one need be ashamed of. A variante of this, obtained by coating the duck joints with cold Bigarade sauce mixed in the same proportions with aspic jelly as the mayonnaise, may be served on a Russian salad made of all kinds of cold cooked vegetables, anchovies, hard-boiled egg, etc. Or you may make a chaufroix by dissolving ¼oz. of best leaf gelatine in, say, half a pint of very thick brown olive sauce, letting it boil in a quarter part, and then using as it is setting.

Cold mutton, if cut into neat little wedge-shaped pieces and marinaded as described in the first chapter, then masked with Chevreuil sauce (stiffened with from ¼oz. to ½z. of leaf gelatine to the half pint of sauce when boiled in, and served with any salad convenient - preferably French bean salad, made by tossing some cold cooked beans in a mixture of oil, lemon juice, and seasoning to taste), is a very dainty form of "cold mutton." The plain cold mutton can also be turned into an attractive dish if coated with tomato aspic and served with any kind of salad tossed in mayonnaise. Wedge-shaped fillets cut from cold roast beef are excellent if masked with Lorraine sauce, i.e., a gill each of good brown sauce, tomato puree or conserve, and aspic, with half a wineglassful of sherry, and a teaspoon-ful of chili vinegar, all just boiled up together with a seasoning of black pepper, salt, and caster sugar, then used when just setting, and served with a mayonnaise of oysters and crisped celery. If you have time to prepare it, Neapolitan sauce is delicious with cold roast beef, made thus: Scrape a nice stick of horseradish very finely, and put it on the fire with 2oz. of glaze (or Liebig Co.'s extract of meat), a small pot of currant jelly, half a pint of red wine, and half a gill of much reduced espagnole sauce, brought to the boil with ¼oz. of leaf gelatine, and simmered together for twenty minutes, then tammied and either used as a mask or left on ice and used as a sauce, as you please.

While on the subject of mayonnaise, it may be well to remark that many a good plated dish is irremediably spoilt by the acid of the dressing; therefore if you are going to use one of these dishes run over it all a layer of aspic jelly about the thickness of a florin and let this set quite hard before arranging the mayonnaise in it. This will effectually protect the dish, and is easily removed by washing the latter in boiling water. To coat the dish you proceed exactly as in coating a mould, i.e., you pour the jelly, when just on the point of setting, into the dish and turn the latter round and round in your hands till the slowly coagulating jelly is evenly distributed over its surface.

Lastly there are the souffles glaces, and the coquilles, or cases, en mayonnaise. These are very simply prepared. For the souffle', mince down the meat rather coarsely and either season it with a plain oil and vinegar dressing, or with mayonnaise of any kind. Have ready a neatly papered souffle dish, and lay in first a layer of aspic whipped to a stiff froth, then a layer of the seasoned meat, then more whipped aspic, and proceed thus till the dish is full right to the top of the papered band, and leave it on ice till set, when you remove the paper band, and send to-table. This can be made with any scraps of meat, fish, flesh, fowl, or game as you please, of course varying the dressings to suit. For instance for white meats use white mayonnaise, or Maximilian sauce (for this adding enough tomato puree to tartare sauce to get it to a delicate pale pink); or Irlandaise sauce (a. gill each of rich, thick mayonnaise, stiffly whipped cream, and aspic jelly, seasoned to taste with tarragon vinegar, coralline pepper, and caster sugar, with enough greening to bring it all to a faint green; then stir into it the shred meat, and about half a gill of separately cooked and shred young vegetables, such as young carrots, turnips, peas, cucumber, etc.). For game use Richelieu or Espagnole stiffened with leaf gelatine; whilst for beef or mutton few things beat tomato mayonnaise or Gorgona sauce (i.e., tartare into which you have mixed a spoonful of essence of anchovies, a spoonful each of minced parsley and chives, and of tarragon vinegar, a washed and minced anchovy or two, the pulp of two raw tomatoes, and a gill of aspic jelly for each gill of tartare).

The coqyilles or cases may be served in either china or silver shells or cases, or in paper cases as you please, and consist of all sorts of tiny scraps of meat, such as chicken, game, cold roast meat, brown or white, cold cooked brains, sweetbread, ham, tongue, etc, according to what you have, mixed with capers, minced olives, young cold cooked vegetables, fillets of anchovy, minced truffles, etc. In short all and every kind of scraps, but depending for their success entirely on the way the said scraps are harmonised and mixed with the sauce, and garnished. A recipe or two for this kind of dish will be given in the next chapter.

The only thing to remember with these pretty little dishes is that though distinctly economical, they need foresight, and in this as in every case the woman who cannot pay with her purse must pay with her person, as the French say. Whenever by any chance there is a surplus in the domestic budget, employ some of this in the judicious purchase of a few odds and ends, such as a bottle of good olives, another of anchovies in brine, or the same fish in oil, some stuffed olives, a pot or two of any nice paste, such as anchovy, cod's roe, shrimp, Ac, a bottle or two of capers, and last but not least, some pretty moulds, and china or paper cases in profusion. It is a great stimulus to the cook who has really done her best with homely tools, to bring her in, say, a dozen of any pretty little moulds of a fancy shape; a pastry rack for masking her chaufroix on; some little knives for "turning" (i.e., cutting vegetables artistically), a potato slicer, etc.; such things bought singly do not run into much money individually, and add enormously to the comfort of the cook, and the using of otherwise wasted scraps.

Well do I remember finding one day in the larder a saucerful of tiny morsels of flaked fish flanked by some skin and the bones and trimmings of the fish. "Why, you have forgotten to give Pussy her supper last night!" I observed. "Pussy's supper, ma'am, indeed no! She had it all right enough; why that's my savoury for to-night, ma'am!" and sure enough, up came some tiny little souffles that evening evolved from scraps I should have thought any cook justified in emptying into Pussy's plate.

If we only realised it, servants are as fond of fancy work as their mistresses, and if you teach your cook to look on these little dishes as fancy work it will add enormously to the daintiness of your menu, whilst actually reducing the weekly sums inscribed in those dreadful red-covered "weekly-books," which are such a nightmare to most housewives. Only don't begin encouraging this culinary embroidery on the score of economy, please! Admire their beauty, and their niceness, and so get her into the way of such things, and you will gradually find her amour-propre is wakened to the amusement of contriving into what shapes she can twist remnants that otherwise she would have denounced you as a skin flint for wishing to utilise.