l the gastronomes and epicures of history. We
called it the Newland-Tarlton pudding, because it was the joint creation
of Mrs. Newland and Mrs. Tarlton. One wrote the poetry in it and the
other set it to music. We ate it so thoroughly that the plates looked as
clean as new. Cuninghame was there, dressed up for the first time in
months, and the way that pudding disappeared behind his burly beard was
suggestive of the magic of Kellar or Herrmann.

The recipe of this pudding is worthy of export to the United States, so
here it is. It really is a combination of two puddings, served together
and eaten at the same time.

THE NEWLAND BANANA CUSTARD

Boil three large cupfuls of milk. Mix a tablespoonful of corn flour
with a little cold milk just to make it into a paste. Add four eggs
well beaten and mix together with three tablespoonfuls of sugar. Put
into the boiled milk and stir until it thickens, but don't let it
boil. When taken off add one teaspoonful of vanilla essence. Cut up
ten bananas and put in a dish. Pour custard on when cool.

PRUNE SHAPE (A LA TARLTON)

Stew one-half pound prunes until quite soft. Remove stones and cut
prunes small. Dissolve one-half ounce gelatin and add to one-quarter
pound sugar, prunes, and kernels. Pour into wetted mold to cool, first
adding one-half glass of sherry. Must be served with banana cream (the
Newland).

The third occasion made memorable by a delicious epoch-making dish I
shall not specify, as we have dined with many friends during the last
nine months. Let it be sufficient if I say that it was at one of these
dinners or luncheons.

In our varied gastronomical experiences we found that the cooking on the
English ships was usually bad, while that on the German ships was good,
excepting the ship that took us from Naples to Mombasa. The Dutch ships
were the best of all and the Dutch hotels in Java were the best we
struck outside of Paris and London. In comparison with the Hotel des
Indes, in Batavia, all the rest of the hotels of the Orient can be
mentioned only in a furtive way. It was a revelation of excellence, in
perfect keeping with the charm and beauty of Java as a whole.

But we were speaking of things to eat.

At the Hotel des Indes they served us a modest little dish called rice
tafel, or "rijs-tafel." You have to go to luncheon early in order to eat
it before dinner time. It was served by twenty-four waiters, marching in
single file, the