1934 Irvin S Cobb's own Recipe Book

pineapple, orange peel, lemon juice, pickled peaches, sundry other fruits and various berries, both fresh and preserved; and the whipped-up white of an egg, and for a crowning atrocity a flirt of allspice across that expanse of pallid meringue. When I could in some degree restrain my weep– ing, I told hi!Il things. "Brother," I told him, between sobs, "brother, all this needs is a crust on it and a knife to eat it with, and it would be a typical example of the supreme effect in pastry of your native New England housewife's breakfast table. But, brother," I said, "I didn't come in here

for a pie," I mentioned a julep; and you, my poor erring brother, you have done :_~is to me! Go," I said, "go and sin no more or, at least, sin as little as possible." For myself I like best the New Orleans julep and the Kentucky julep of which latter, however, there are at least three standard versions. I was present in a New Orleans club on a historic time when a very prominent Wall Street banker, who had come down there to celebrate Mardi Gras 21