THE CURE'S OMELET

"Every one knows," says Brillat Savarin, in his "Physiology of Taste," "that for twenty years Madame Récamier was the most beautiful woman in Paris. It is also well known that she was exceedingly charitable, and took a great interest in every benevolent work. Wishing to consult the Curé of ---- respecting the working of an institution, she went to his house at five o'clock in the afternoon, and was much astonished at finding him already at his dinner-table.

"Madame Récamier wished to retire, but the Curé would not hear of it. A neat white cloth covered the table; some good old wine sparkled in a crystal decanter; the porcelain was of the best; the plates had heaters of boiling water beneath them; a neatly-costumed maid-servant was in attendance. The repast was a compromise between frugality and luxury. The crawfish-soup had just been removed, and there was on the table a salmon-trout, an omelet, and a salad.

"'My dinner will tell you,' said the worthy Curé, with a smile, 'that it is fast-day, according to our Church's regulations.' Madame Récamier and her host attacked the trout, the sauce served with which betrayed a skilful hand, the countenance of the Curé the while showing satisfaction.

"And now they fell upon the omelet, which was round, sufficiently thick, and cooked, so to speak, to a hair's-breadth.

"As the spoon entered the omelet, a thick rich juice issued from it, pleasant to the eye as well as to the smell; the dish became full of it; and our fair friend owns that, between the perfume and the sight, it made her mouth water.

"'It is an _omelette au thon_' (that is to say, a tunny omelet), said the Curé, noticing, with the greatest delight, the emotion of Madame Récamier, 'and few people taste it without lavishing praises on it.'

"'It surprises me not at all,' returned the beauty; 'never has so enticing an omelet met my gaze at any of our lay tables.'

"'My cook understands them well, I think.'

"'Yes,' added Madame, 'I never ate anything so delightful.'"

Then came the salad, which Savarin recommends to all who place confidence in him. It refreshes without exciting; and he has a theory that it makes people younger.

Amidst pleasant converse the dessert arrived. It consisted of three apples, cheese, and a plate of preserves; and then upon a little round table was served the Mocha coffee, for which France has been, and is, so justly famous.

"'I never,' said the Curé, 'take spirits; I always offer liqueurs to my guests but reserve the use of them, myself, to my old age, if it should please Providence to grant me that.'

"Finally, the charming Madame Récamier took her leave, and told all her friends of the delicious omelet which she had seen and partaken of."

And Brillat Savarin, in his capacity as the Layard of the concealed treasures of Gastronomia, has succeeded in withdrawing from obscurity the details of the preparation of which so much had been said, and which he imagines to be as wholesome as it was agreeable.

Here follows the recipe:--