World Cuisine

SOUTHERN BUCKWHEAT CAKES Four cupfuls of buckwheat flour, sifted, one half cake of compressed yeast dissolved in a little lukewarm water, one teaspoonful of salt, and one tablespoonful of molasses. Mix with enough warm water to make a thin batter and set to rise over night. If the batter is sour in the morning add a bit of baking soda. QUICK BUCKWHEAT CAKES Three cupfuls of buckwheat flour and one cupful of white flour, one cupful each of milk and water, three heaping teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one teaspoonful of salt, and one tablespoonful of molasses. Sift the dry ingredients together, mix, and fry as usual. KENTUCKY BUCKWHEAT CAKES One cupful of flour, two cupfuls of buckwheat flour, one teaspoonful of salt, one cake of compressed yeast dissolved in lukewarm water, and one tablespoonful of molasses. Beat well together and let stand over night. Fry on a soapstone griddle greased with suet, salt pork, or bacon. A bit of suet or salt pork tied in a bit of cloth was the old

BLANCMANGE Thicken a quart of milk with four tablespoonfuls of cornstarch rubbed smooth with a little of it. Add a teaspoonful of salt, and sugar and flavoring to taste. Mould, chill, and serve with a sauce made of a cupful of jam or jelly thoroughly mixed with the whites of three eggs beaten to a stiff froth. ALMOND BLANCMANGE Thicken a quart of boiling milk with three tablespoonfuls of cornstarch rubbed smooth with a little cold milk. Add four tablespoonfuls of sugar, a pinch of salt, and a few drops of lemon extract. When smooth and thick, add half a cupful or more of split blanched almonds, mould, chill, and serve with whipped cream, sweetened and flavored to taste. CHERRY BLANCMANGE Stone a quart of cherries and stew, sweetening heavily. Thicken with one level tablespoonful of cornstarch rubbed smooth with a little cold  water, and cook until smooth and thick, stirring constantly. Mould, chill, and serve with sugar and cream. Other fruits may be used in the same way.

OMELETS “ To make an omelet, you must first break eggs. ”— French Proverb. So many different methods for making omelets are given, in works of recognized authority, that it seems as if any one who had an egg and an omelet pan could hardly go amiss. Yet failures are frequent, as every omelet-maker knows. French writers say positively that no liquid of any sort must be added to an omelet—that it contains eggs and eggs alone, beaten just enough to break the yolks. American authorities add milk or water, or beat the eggs separately, the whites to a stiff froth. One of them makes a clear distinction between an omelet and a puffy omelet; the puffy omelet, of course, being made by folding in the stiffly beaten whites before cooking. Some say milk makes it tough, and others say water makes it stringy. Suffice it to say, however, that a perfect omelet is a matter of experience and a deft hand. All writers agree that small omelets are more easily made than large ones, and it is better to do

"Fit for Drink" A country without a fit drink for cheese has no cheese fit for drink. Greece was the first country to prove its epicurean fitness, according to the old saying above, for it had wine to tipple and sheep's milk cheese to nibble. The classical Greek cheese has always been Feta, and no doubt this was the kind that Circe combined most suitably with wine to make a farewell drink for her lovers. She put further sweetness and body into the stirrup cup by stirring honey and barley meal into it. Today we might whip this up in an electric mixer to toast her memory. While a land flowing with milk and honey is the ideal of many, France, Italy, Spain or Portugal, flowing with wine and honey, suit a lot of gourmets better. Indeed, in such vinous-caseous places cheese is on the house at all wine sales for prospective customers to snack upon and thus bring out the full flavor of the  cellared vintages. But professional wine tasters are forbidden any cheese between sips. Th

This has long been quoted as the proper way to make the national dish of Switzerland. Savarin tells of hearing oldsters in his district laugh over the Bishop of Belley eating his Fondue with a spoon instead of the traditional fork, in the first decade of the 1700's. He tells, too, of a Fondue party he threw for a couple of his septuagenarian cousins in Paris "about the year 1801." The party was the result of much friendly taunting of the master: "By Jove, Jean, you have been bragging for such a long time about your Fondues, you have continually made our mouths water. It is high time to put a stop to all this. We will come and breakfast with you some day and see what sort of thing this dish is." Savarin invited them for ten o'clock next day, started them off with the table laid on a "snow white cloth, and in each one's place two dozen oysters with a bright golden lemon. At each end of the table stood a bottle of sauterne, carefully wiped, excepting t