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regulations of State and Federal Government, and so the conditions have to be regulated along thoroughly approved lines.

It is interesting to know something about how macaroni is made, for most of us have accepted it without question, as if it grew like an apple or potato. The wheat required for the making of macaroni must contain a large percentage of gluten, and that grown in the semi-arid regions of our own western states is excellent for the purpose, and is much like the wheat grown in Russia and mixed with the Italian wheat for use in making the foreign article. Wheat of the durum variety is especially adapted to macaroni making, and is not valued for milling purposes, so when we use macaroni we are not lessening bread-making materials, although it is a wheat product. This is an important point, as it shows our patriotic duty.

The selected wheat is ground into a coarse meal, and the bran is removed and saved. In this state it is known as semola or semolina. The semola is mixed into a paste with hot water and worked into the right consistency of dough by mechanical means. When it has become a thoroughly homogeneous mass, it is put into cylinders of brass eight or nine inches in diameter. The bottom of these cylinders are perforated with holes of the desired size for macaroni, vermicelli, and spaghetti. Great pistons, which just fit into the cylinders, are then slowly pressed down by machinery and the dough is squeezed through the tubes. In case the macaroni is to be hollow, a cleverly adjusted blade does the work. At first, the tube of macaroni has a slit where the knife has cut it, but this closes quickly. The sticks are cut into lengths about three feet, and skillfully dried.

The drying process requires experience. First the moisture is partly allowed to evaporate in a current of air. Then the macaroni is placed in a damp atmosphere, which causes it to grow limp again. After that it is dried in just the right temperature for from eight to twenty-four

days. All this process gives it the hornylike character, which permits it to be packed and shipped without shelling and breaking.

Many people think that macaroni is of one kind only, although they know that it comes in different sized tubes and shapes, as the letter and elbow macaroni, but as a matter of fact there are many other kinds. Most of these are still made abroad, and are used, when imported, by our foreign population, although our own macaroni manufacturers turn out a somewhat varied product.

There is Whole Wheat Macaroni, of a brownish color, which is very nourishing.

Buckwheat Macaroni is made in Cherry Blossom Land, where push carts go about selling the steaming buckwheat dish at less than a penny. This is not so strange, when we remember our own waffle lunch carts.

Bean Macaroni is made in both Japan and Korea. The paste is rolled out very thin, and, as it breaks easily, is difficult to shape.

Rice Macaroni is made in China, and the glistening strands are of pearly beauty.

Turkish Macaroni is not dried as thoroughly as that made in other countries, and so would soon dissolve into a mass like pap if put into hot water. For this reason it is braised in oil.

The Chinese have another macaroni made of the pith of a tree. This is rolled out in sheets and cut into pieces like wafers.

Then, there is Sea Weed Macaroni, which, being of a gelatinous nature, dissolves readily, and so earns its name of Disappearing Macaroni. The Italians have a type, which they value at home, made of milk curd. It dissolves in hot liquid.

Egg Macaroni is particularly delicious, but, if you purchase it and the water in which it boils is of a bright yellow color, you may be sure that its richness of appearance is derived from saffron or coaltar dye and not from eggs.

The housewives of the Old World are said to look upon macaroni much as our women do upon a hairpin, - that is, they use it for all sorts of unexpected purposes. A tube of it serves as a straw through which to take hot or cold liquids, or for a feeding tube for the baby, through it they blow powder into cracks to dislodge bugs, or if they are short of bread flour, they roll it out with the rolling

saucepan; stir in four tablespoonfuls of flour and cook until bubbly all over; add salt and pepper to season, and gradually one quart of scalding hot milk. Stir constantly until cooked and smooth.

If for any reason you want the sauce thicker, add an extra tablespoonful of flour and butter substitute; if you want it thinner, use a tablespoonful less.

pin, treating it as a sort of preserved flour. Scalloped Macaroni with Oysters

A food of this nature, which depends wholly upon its native flavor, which is not especially marked, can be used in many more ways than a food of a strong and characteristic taste, yet it should not be forgotten that the deliciousness of macaroni dishes depends very largely upon the excellence of the cooking, the skill of combinations, and the good judgment used in seasoning.

Macaroni has a very high food value. According to Professor Sherman of Columbia University, the average macaroni product of good grade contains about 1,625 calories per pound; thus it will be seen that, when we mix macaroni with a rich white sauce, with cheese, oysters, dried beef, chicken, or similar foods, we have a dish which presents a square meal in itself.

To cook macaroni successfully is not difficult. Break into short lengths. If it comes from a sealed package, it does not need washing; if it is "loose," it should be rinsed in cold water. Drop into boiling salted water, adding a level tablespoonful of salt to a quart. Stir to prevent sticking, but be careful not to break the pieces. If the dish is greased before the hot water and macaroni are put in, it will not stick so readily. Cook until tender, then toss the macaroni into a colander and let cold water run through it. This process is called blanching, and is to prevent it sticking together.

Well-cooked macaroni or spaghetti, and a good white cream sauce, gives the foundation for many dishes.

White Cream Sauce Melt four tablespoonfuls of fat in a

Allow one pint of cooked macaroni, one pint of white cream sauce, and one pint of cleaned, drained oysters. Grease a baking dish and put in alternate layers. of macaroni, oysters, and cream sauce. Two layers of oysters and three of macaroni will bake best. Finish with a topping of buttered crumbs. Bake about forty minutes until crumbs are brown. Many prefer a seasoning of onion salt in this.

Scalloped Chicken

Prepare exactly as above, only substituting a pint of cold, cooked chicken, cut in small pieces, for the oysters, and use celery salt for seasoning.

Baked Macaroni with Cheese

To each pint of cooked macaroni allow one cup of grated cheese and one pint of white sauce. Alternate in layers, finish with buttered crumbs, and a sprinkling of the grated cheese. Bake. This dish. can be served in a casserole or in ramekins.

Macaroni with Dried Beef

For each pint of white sauce allow one cup of cooked macaroni, and one-fourth of a pound of dried beef torn into small pieces. Heat together and garnish the dish with a hard-boiled egg, cut into slices. Or, this can be served on rounds of toast, or in little wells of mashed potato.

If you wish to serve macaroni as a vegetable, you can do so very nicely by boiling it and simply seasoning with butter, salt, and a little paprika. If you wish to vary this, you can add a sprinkling of grated cheese, or half a cup of white cream sauce and a teaspoonful of

chopped parsley, or for a pint of macaroni, half a cup of strained, thickened

tomato sauce.

Celestial Spaghetti

Prepare one pint of cooked spaghetti. Make a sauce by melting four tablespoonfuls of butter substitute and cooking with two tablespoonfuls of barley, rice, or wheat flour. Add one cup of strained meat stock and one cup of strained cooked tomato. Blend until smooth and thick. Season with salt and pepper. Add one minced onion and simmer on the back of the stove twenty or thirty minutes. Add two tablespoonfuls of Parmesan cheese. Drop the spaghetti into this sauce and re-heat thoroughly. If you wish, you can use more spaghetti, just coating the tubes with the sauce.

Macaroni Pudding

Break the macaroni into quite long pieces, about four inches. Cook in boiling salt water until tender. Blanche. Remove to a board and cut into onefourth inch lengths, or so each piece will be like a large bead. Cover one-half pound of figs with hot water and cook slowly with one-half cup of brown sugar until every fig is plump. Add the grated rind of one lemon and the strained juice of half of it. Cook until the syrup is quite thick. Serve a dish of macaroni with one or two figs on top and enough of the rich syrup to moisten it nicely. If you wish to make this dish positively festive, put a teaspoonful of whipped cream on top and garnish with a maraschino cherry.

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By Helen Forrest

ES, indeed. Do come over, I'll be in all the afternoon."

Bessie's voice rang hopefully into the telephone; quickened a little because the instrument was in the living in which favored sanctum the room, family had gathered after a satisfying Sunday dinner had been disposed of.

Bessie's cheeks were pink; she smiled into the unresponsive telephone. She even hastily adjusted a tumbled lock of blonde hair. The deep voice at the other end of the wire seemed to be a compelling and visible presence.

She listened once more, then spoke with evident tremor, the child note that had always remained in spite of her twenty

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She turned in hurried, pleading silence to the critical, amused little group, her difficult audience. With the 'phone covered by one small hand she whispered her question: "Supper?"

Lightning glances, a shrug from her younger brother, open encouragement from her mother, doubtful planning evident on her sister's part, then a consensus of nodding heads and Bessie's voice after the moment of indecision.

"And, Mr. Brown, won't you stay for supper with us before we go to the Oratorio? We shall be quite by ourselves and most informal."

An instant of glowing silence on Bessie's part, then:

"Oh, that's very nice; I'll expect you about four."

Replacing the 'phone, her pretty assurance gone, turned to apology, Bessie faced her family: "Really, I hadn't any idea of asking him!"

"He had every idea of being asked!"(this from brother Sam.)

"You see, he wants to take me down to the Oratorio at the Episcopal Church," went on Bessie. "He was coming to call anyway, and I don't see how I could have got out of it."

"I should think not," this very complacently from her mother. "The idea of the man going back to the hotel for supper and then returning to take you to church. You did just the right thing!"

"You all told me to!" Bessie was making peace openly with her older sister, upon whom the burden of supper in this maidless household must fall with blueeyed Bessie entertaining her friend in the parlor.

The practical Louise at last voiced her approval: "Oh, it's all right; you had to ask him, but what are we going to have for supper? Cold beans and chocolate cake may be all right in the bosom of the family."

"But the Superintendent of the Electric Company must be fed higher-" this savagely from brother Sam, who disliked supper guests and the resulting formality.

"Precisely, Sammy," went on Louise, patronizing in maddening fashion her eighteen-year old brother, "and because you are grown so nice and tall you shall help sister lift down all the best dishes that grow high on the pantry shelf. We'll have a nice supper anyway, and you'll like that."

"It's three o'clock, and he'll be here in

an hour." Bessie's mounting color proved her nervousness. "What can I do before I change my dress? I hate to spoil everybody's nice Sunday afternoon."

"You rest a little, child," said her mother approvingly. "Louise and I will have plenty of time to get things ready for your nice Mr. Brown. I imagine a home supper will be a real treat for him after that boarding house-it's absurd to call it a hotel!"

"I'll put on the lace doilies and set the table, that will help some," said Bessie, plainly feeling responsible for a general upset. "I'll work half an hour, and then go up stairs and get dressed. Come in, some of you, and see Mr. Brown before supper and say, what are we going to give him to eat?"

It was finally agreed that the chicken. remaining from dinner be creamed and served with the cold baked beans; a tin of Tuna fish with some hard-boiled eggs sliced should be made into a salad. Louise should make hot biscuit; and some preserved peaches will go with the chocolate cake.

Mr. Brown, dark, broad-shouldered and vigorous, looked approvingly at the prettily decked table the silver and cut glass shining in the candle light. It was distinctly festive.

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"I'm afraid I've made you a great deal of trouble," he protested.

"Not at all," returned Louise cheerfully, though flushed by the baking of her hot biscuits; "you see we have supper even when we haven't a guest."

"You can't think how I enjoy this sort of thing." Mr. Brown was noticeably expanding under the genial influence of the well-cooked little meal.

"I haven't lived at home for ten years; first school, then college, and now business have kept me away. There's nothing like a touch of home after the eternal sameness of boarding."

"You must surely come again, and soon" this from Bessie's mother to the very eligible guest.

Mr. William Brown's success in business was due, perhaps, to a certain quality of persistence, a hopeful activity; and his intercourse with Bessie's family was hallmarked with these vigorous methods.

The father of the household was pleasantly surprised by a magazine with a marked article on a subject they had discussed; the mother, whose approaching birthday had been mentioned, was much touched by a bouquet of roses, an event in her sober anniversary. Frequent calls,

summons to the telephone, books and violets kept pretty, Bessie expectant, and gave fresh zest to an unusually fetching winter wardrobe. Some weeks after the first occasion Bessie made another appeal. "I really ought to ask Will Brown for supper. I know he'd love it. He's coming to call Sunday night."

"I know what that Sunday night business leads to," said brother Sam gloomily. "I see what he's after, all right."

"Oh, nonsense! Haven't your friends been fed here at all hours?" Louise was rallying to Bessie's support. "Invite him, of course. We'll manage all right."

"He says," remarked Bessie from the telephone, as she hung up the instrument, "that he'll be delighted to come, if only we won't put ourselves out. He wants to feel that he isn't making any trouble."

"There you are," and Sam, the depressed, made a final rush for liberty. "Louise says my friends eat here any time. They don't get a table trimmed up like a birthday cake, all candles and frills; they'd run at the sight of it, and the family isn't half killed getting ready for 'em, too." He finished in a burst of eloquence.

"You are a good boy, Sammy, but you don't understand entertaining," answered Louise, quite the older sister. "Mr. Brown comes from a very nice home, and we want to do our best when he is here. You won't have to do the work, so don't fret!"

Sam drifted out protesting on a wave of voices that babbled of lobster newburg, tomato bisque, cheese soufflé, and called from the door: "I tell you, no fellow alive likes all that fuss; and don't cut out the Sunday night beans. If Brown is going to come into this family, he might as well get used to Boston baked beans!"

"I rather agree with the boy, -oh, I mean about changing the menu." The father's hasty explanation was due to a blushing protest from Bessie. "Have it your own way, of course, but I think that

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