Stewed Oysters.—Boil half a pint of milk; add to it eleven good-sized oysters, a walnut of butter, a dash of salt and of pepper. Allow the milk to boil up just once, and serve.

The average cook puts the oysters on first, and after they boil cold milk is added. When the milk boils, the stew is served. The result of such treatment of the oyster causes it to shrivel so that it is hardly recognizable, and a good-sized oyster becomes a mere sprat. From this process of cooking originated the ancient moth-eaten jokes about church-fair stews.

Cooked as in the foregoing recipe, the oyster retains its plump characteristics.

Philadelphia Fried Oysters.—The author originally published this recipe in the New York “Evening Sun” by request.

The average New Yorker may call the City of Brotherly Love a sleepy sort of a place, but it is wide enough awake gastronomically. It has within its city limits cooks who prepare fried oysters that fairly melt in one’s mouth. They are so delicate that there is not a pang of dyspepsia in a whole winter’s supply of the toothsome dainties. The reputation of Finneli’s Philadelphia fried oysters extends from Maine to California; and immense sums have been offered for the recipe, but its owner would not sell his secret at any price.

Beat up three eggs thoroughly; add half a pint of oyster-juice, a pepper-spoonful of cayenne, a saltspoonful of black pepper, a tablespoonful of salt, and a teaspoonful of English mustard. Work the mixture to a batter, and gradually add a gill of oil. Now comes the more particular part of the formula. Cover a board or part of a table with a layer of cracker-crumbs half an inch deep. Drain fifty oysters free from liquid, place them on the cracker-crumbs, and dredge over them more cracker-crumbs. See to it that one oyster is not on top of another. Pick up each oyster by its beard, and dip it in the batter. Have ready a quantity of bread-crumbs grated from the white part of stale bread; spread this out on the table, and after the oysters have been dipped in the batter lay them carefully on the bread-crumbs two inches apart. After they are all spread out, turn them over neatly, which will bread-crumb the other side. Dip them in the batter again by taking hold of the beard, and again spread them out on the bread-crumbs. Under no circumstances place one oyster on top of another, or in any way press them together; this would make them heavy. When the fat is so hot that the smoke from it would light a match, then fry them by again taking hold of the beard, one at a time, and dropping them into the fat. When they are dark brown, take them up, and strew over them a quantity of salt.

The secret is in carefully handling the oyster after it has been breaded. How differently New York restaurants serve fried oysters! In almost every eating place in the city, one sees piles of oysters covered with a batter that plainly shows the cook purposely pressed them between his hands. When served they look more like liver-pads than human food. Nothing short of a human ostrich could possibly digest them. The Philadelphia oyster, however, is a culinary poem.

Curry of Oysters.—Put an ounce of butter in a pan; add to it a teaspoon of curry-powder, and water enough to prevent burning. Put fifteen oysters in just water enough to cover them, simmer three minutes, and drain; thicken the broth with a teaspoonful of flour, salt to taste, stir this into the curry; add the oysters, simmer a moment, and serve with boiled rice.

Pickled-Oyster Omelet.—Rinse six spiced or pickled oysters in cold water. Divide an ounce of butter into little balls, and roll them in flour; put them in a saucepan, heat gradually, and whisk to a cream; add a gill of hot water, salt and pepper. Cut the oysters in two, and add to the butter. Prepare an omelet in the usual manner; before folding, add the oysters; turn out on a hot dish, and serve.

Deviled Oysters on Toast.—Mix together a heaping saltspoonful of mustard flour, half a saltspoonful each of white pepper and salt, and the yolk of one egg. Dip six oysters in the paste, then in fine crumbs, and broil over a moderate fire. When done, arrange on toast, and squeeze over them the juice of half a lemon.