Walpole, a Fine, Lardy-Dardy, Maccaroni Gentleman, that lives at a place called Strawberry Hill, by Twitnam, in England, has written a silly Romantic Tale about. So we got clear of the Gulf of Venice, and in three days more, after making Cape Passaro in Sicily, entered the Haven of Malta.
Vegetables prepared in this way are excellent; cauliflower simmered in chicken broth, seasoned delicately and minced on toast, is a nutritive good luncheon for an invalid. This is a very pretty dish. The maccaroni must be boiled in water till it slightly swells, and is soft enough to cut; it must be cut into short pieces about two inches in length.
At the head of the table, where the doctor presides, was the leg of mutton, which, I believe, is even' day's head dish. I forget what Mr. Wilson dispensed, but it was something savoury of fish. I saw veal cutlets with bacon, and a companion dish; maccaroni with gravy, potatoes plain boiled, or mashed and browned, spinach, and other green vegetables.
They were almost frightened by the dirt and impudence of the beggars, and each clung to the arm of a masculine protector to pilot her through the crowd. They were, indeed, glad to move away from the rather rough element on the beach, and turn back through the town, where the peasants were now taking lunch of maccaroni and omelettes at tables spread in the streets.
Cut up and boil the maccaroni by itself in a very little water, allowing a quarter of a pound to a quart of soup. The pieces should be about an inch long. Put a small piece of butter with it. It must boil till tender, but not till it breaks. Throw it into the soup shortly before it goes to table, and give it one boil up.
By this time we had reached Castelvetrano, and supper overshadowed the lottery. Angelo cooked everything; we began with maccaroni, after which we ate the fish and the sparrows, and wound up with the rabbit. It was all very good, but it seemed hardly right to eat the sparrows, besides, there was scarcely as much on one of them as there had been on one of the artichokes at the caserma.
Francesca did not recognize the liquid flow as invective; how was she to, when it came out sounding like that? And with her face all smiles, for she could not but smile when she looked at this young lady, she told her the maccaroni was getting cold. "When I do not come to meals it is because I do not wish to come to meals," said the irritated Scrap, "and you will not in future disturb me."
One room was made to accommodate the mother and seven children, and during the absence of the former from home the premises were left in charge of a girl just entering her teens, who, when Helen and Edith reached the place, was engaged in preparing the family dinner of maccaroni.
The plain, simple food of nature is much too raw and indigestible for this maccaroni gentleman's stomach. It must be cooked for him artificially in the infernal pestilential pitcher of your novel-writers. Into the fire with the rubbish!
In bad weather, however, they are forced to be idle, as a good organ cannot be exposed with impunity at such times. The "grinders" pay from five to eight dollars per month for their rooms, and sustain their families entirely upon maccaroni.