The Cooking Class by Louisa May Alcott — Read

A young girl in a little cap and a big apron sat poring over a cook-book, with a face full of the deepest anxiety. She had the kitchen to herself, for mamma was out for the day, cook was off duty, and Edith could mess to her heart's content. She belonged to a cooking-class, the members of which were to have a lunch at two P. M. with the girl next door; and now the all absorbing question was, what to make. Turning the pages of the well-used book, she talked to herself as the various receipts met her eye.

"Lobster-salad and chicken-croquettes I've had, and neither were very good. Now I want to distinguish myself by something very nice. I'd try a meat-porcupine or a mutton-duck if there was time; but they are fussy, and ought to be rehearsed before given to the class. Bavarian cream needs berries and whipped cream, and I _won't_ tire my arms beating eggs. Apricots _a la_ Neige is an easy thing and wholesome, but the girls won't like it, I know, as well as some rich thing that will make them ill, as Carrie's plum-pudding did. A little meat dish is best for lunch. I'd try sweetbreads and bacon, if I didn't hate to burn my face and scent my clothes, frying. Birds are elegant; let me see if I can do larded grouse. No, I don't like to touch that cold, fat stuff. How mortified Ella was, when she had birds on toast and forgot to draw them. I shouldn't make such a blunder as that, I do hope. Potted pigeons -- the very thing! Had that in our last lesson, but the girls are all crazy about puff-paste, so they won't try pigeons. Why didn't I think of it at once? -- for we've got them in the house, and don't want them to-day, mamma being called away. All ready too; so nice! I do detest to pick and clean birds. 'Simmer from one to three hours. ' Plenty of time. I'll do it! I'll do it! La, la, la!"