ALMONDS. 41 
ate suppers in general, but which was particularly hungry 
on all special occasions.” 
Again, Charles Lamb, when in lodgings with Mary Lamb, 
up two pairs of stairs in East Street, at Miss Benjay’s, rejoiced 
in “ tea, coffee, and macaroons (a kind of cake), and much love.” 
Salted almonds make a nourishing side dish at luncheon, or 
for dessert. Blanch a quarter of a pound of Jordan almonds, 
fry them in an ounce and a half of butter, and when fried a nice 
golden brown, drain them on paper, and then roll them in salt 
dusted with red pepper. 
Likewise, for serving to dispel nausea (except from obnoxious 
undigested food) an admirable confection which is delicious to 
the palate, and which is to be had from most pastrycooks under 
the name of “apricotine,” answers promptly, being at the same 
time an acceptable sweetmeat. Small, round sponge cakes 
are made, within which some almond paste is put, with a thin 
layer of apricot jam superimposed, whilst white powdered sugar 
is dusted over the cakes. 
Ratafia biscuits are composed mainly of bitter almonds, and 
are smaller in size than macaroons. As ingredients, take half a 
pound of sweet almonds (blanched, and pounded), with the white 
of an egg, a quarter of a pound of bitter almonds, three-quarters 
of a pound of sifted sugar, and the whites of four eggs (whisked) ; 
bake for ten minutes. 
In Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, vol. vii, occurs a tenderly 
humorous piece of delicate writing which bears reference to the 
macaroon: “Twas a poor ass who had just turned in (at Lyons) 
with a couple of large panniers on his back to collect eleemosynary 
turnip-tops, and cabbage-leaves, and stood dubious with its two 
fore feet on the inside of the threshold, and with its two hinder 
feet towards the street. He was eating the stem of an artichoke 
as I held discourse with him, and, in the little peevish contentions 
between hunger, and unsavouriness, had dropped it out of his 
mouth half-a-dozen times, and picked it up again. ‘God help 
thee, Jack!’ said I; ‘thou hast a bitter breakfast on’t, and 
many a bitter day’s labour, and many a bitter blow, I fear. 
And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of it, is as bitter, 
I daresay, as soot (for he had cast aside the stem), and thou hast 
not a friend perhaps in all this world that will give thee a 
macaroon.’ In saying which I pulled out a paper of ’em which 
I had just purchased, and gave him one; and at this moment 
