Bay Sauce.
One pound salt, one-half ounce cloves, four ounces ginger, all powdered; three handfuls garlic, three handfuls horseradish, scraped fine; six pods of red pepper, cut up fine. Gather leaves of black walnut when young, cut them up fine; put a layer of leaves in the bottom of a jar, then one of ingredients (mixed together), until the jar is filled; tie it up closely and set it in the sun for two weeks; then bottle for use. It is not good for six months. Some think two or three large onions an addition.
—Mrs. H. D.

Cymlings Fried with Bacon.
Fry some slices of fat bacon in a pan. Remove the bacon when done and keep hot. Fry in the gravy some cymlings that have been boiled tender and cut in slices. While frying, mash fine with a large spoon, and add pepper and salt. Fry brown, and serve with the bacon, if you like. —Mrs. G. B.

For Sore Throat.
Carbolic acid crystals, pure, half a drachm; tincture kino, one drachm; chlorate potash, two drachms; simple syrup, half an ounce. Water sufficient to make an eight-ounce mixture. Gargle the throat every few hours. —Dr. T.L. W.

Chill Pills.
Sulph quinine, two drachms; arsenious acid, one grain; strychia, one grain; Prussian Blue, twenty grains; powdered capsicum, one drachm. Mix, and make sixty pills. Take one pill three times a day. —Dr. E.A. C.

To Extinguish the Flames When the Clothing has Taken Fire.
First, throw the person on the ground to prevent the upward flames from being inhaled. Then quickly roll the person in a carpet hearth-rug or blanket; if neither is at hand, use any woolen garment, such as a cloat, overcoat, or cloak. Keep the blaze as much as possible from the face, wrapping the woolen garment first around the neck and shoulders. Jumping into bed and covering up with the bedclothes is also a good plan.

To Destroy Bedbugs.
Dissolve one ounce corrosive sublimate in one pint strong spirits. Put it on the bedsheets with a feather, and it will destroy the bugs and their eggs also. —Mrs. Dr. P. C.

Red Lip Salve.
Oil of sweet almonds, two ounces; pure olive-oil, six ounces; spermaceti, one and one-half ounce; white wax, one ounce. Color with carmine and perfume with oil of roses. —Dr. E.A. C.

For Diarrhea.
Take equal parts of laudinum, tincture capsicum, tincture camphor, and aromatic syrup rhubarb. Mix. Dose from half to a teaspoonful, in water, when needed. —Dr. E.A. C.

Black Ink.
Extract logwood (pulv.), two ounces; hot rain-water, one gallon; Simmer over a water-bath one hour, till logwood is dissolved. Put into a bottle the following: bichromate potass., one hundred grains; prus of potass., forty grains; warm rain-water, four ounces. Shake til dissolved, put into the logwood solution, stir well together, strain through flannel, and, when cold, add corrosive sublimate, ten grains; warm rain-water, one ounce. Dissolve thouroughly, put with the above and add pure carbolic acid crys., one drachm. This makes the black in the world, at a cost of about ten cents per gallon. —Dr. E.A. C.

Charcoal Tooth Powder.
Powdered charcoal, six ounces; gum myrrh, one ounce; pale Peruvian bark, one ounce. Mix thouroughly. —Dr. E.A. C.

To Renew Black Crape Veils.
Wring two large towels out of water. Then put the veil (folded across the middle, lengthwise) on the lower towel; spread the other on top and roll the veil, when between, in a small tight roll. Let stand an hour, or until it is damp through. Take it out and air it a little before it dries. Fold it then in smooth squares, put it in a large book, such as an atlas, put heavy weights on it and let it; stand an hour or two. —Mrs. M.C. C.

To Take Quinine Without Tasting It.
Put a little of the mucilage from slippery elm in a teaspoon. Drop the quinine on it, and put some mucilage on top. This will make the quinine slip down the throat without tasting leaving any taste.

1. Severe seasonal weather, with road closures, power outages, and supermarkets depleted by panic buyers.
2. Natural disasters such as earthquakes, tidal waves, hurricanes, volcanoes, or tornadoes, with supermarkets unable to restock shelves.
3. Ecological disasters, such as the Three Mile Island nuclear facility's failure, and the contamination of foods.
4. The possibility of nuclear holocaust with all food deliveries suspended.
5. Tainted foodstuffs, either by purposeful maniacs (as in the "pain-killer poisonings") or improper processing (as in the glass fragments found in baby foods or the salmonella bacteria in dairy foods.
6. Riots, civil insurrection, collapse of local or regional governing bodies, gang warfare, looting, racial incidents; inability to shop at all.
7. Long-term illness.
8. Loss of employment and inability to secure a new job.
9. Strikes, either by truckers, food processors, food pickers or supermarket employees.
10. Destruction of standing food crops in farmers' fields, either willfully or by natural calamities.
11. Collapse of the currency system, and inability to purchase needed goods.

• Tasty Bite Dinners.
  Indian and Thai curries! Far more flavorful than the standard shelf-stable MREs.


• Amy's Kitchen organic soups.
  Soup is good food.


• Desert Pepper Black Bean Dip.
  Because I'm an addict, okay?


• Frontera Chipotle Salsa.
  This stuff could make cardboard taste good, and if I'm reduced to roasting rats, I want something nice to dip them in.


• Jacques Torres Wicked Hot Chocolate Mix.
  It's yummy, and disasters are always short on yummy.


• Orange-blossom honey and fruit jams from Sarabeth's (or homemade).
  Delightful with Carr's water crackers


• Sardines in Hot Sauce or Mustard (Bumblebee sardines are good).
  Mmm... Sardines. I eat these even when I have fresh food around.


• Muir Glen Crushed Tomatoes.
  So versatile, so delicious. And the cans are lined, so they don't have that awful "can" flavor.


• Jars of spicy Spanish olives, oil-packed Italian tuna and jars of roasted red peppers.
  I reckon this'll make for good post-apocalyptic tapas.


• Praline spread from Le Pain Quotidien.
  Again, seriously delicious. And yes, this stuff would make even my homemade hardtack edible.


• Quality tea and coffee in factory-sealed containers.
  Lack of caffeine is a disaster unto itself.


• Aseptic packs of Parmalat milk, Ceres fruit juices and Silk chocolate soy milk.
  Open a fresh container after the spare daily ration of rice and water grows tiresome.


• Bottles of vodka and bourbon (or your favorite hard liquor).
  Barter with the neighbors for some of their Slim Jims. Disinfect a wound. Preserve fruit. Or just have a consolation drink. Liquor is endlessly useful in hard times.

Damn fine hot chocolate

Baked goat cheese & pears with toast

The service is slow. We are unconcerned.

At Enid's, mere blocks away, we'd still be shifting weight on the corner with the cattle-call throng of hipsters in leather boots and vintage accessories. We'd wait for Gelles and watch jealously, hungrily, as group after group of brunchkateers hear the tables calling. They sashay through the velvet curtains, coffee cups sloshing. They will eat. You will wait.

Here at St. Helen, we are waiting on slow service, yes, but we are shocked to find ourselves sitting. We have coffee.

Gelles won't arrive for another 45 minutes. When he does materialize, the rest of us will have just received our lovingly baked dishes. He will look at our hot plates, look at his watch, order a coffee and bemoan his bad parking karma.

The coffee is good. The hot chocolate is surprisingly good. There is much in the way of toast. There is Nutella. The food is unrushed, unfussy and affectionately prepared in the way our mothers might, if they were professional cooks with a well-stocked kitchens and really good knives.

There is much wood here. One tries to remember what the space looked like before St. Helen Cafe opened. How much of the detail is old? How much is cleverly made to look old?

The decor — including the clean bird-and-axe crest — is so deftly tapped into the past year's sweetly creepy whitewashed sparrow-vine-and-deer trend, it gives off an uneasy vibe. One is almost scared to be seen in it, lest the fad crest, fall and froth into the shamefully passé during the few moments while our eggs cool.

Thankfully, the trend holds, the eggs satisfy, the lattes are lovely and the check is very reasonable. No mean feat in brunch-mad Sunday morning Williamsburg. Thank you, St. Helen, for small miracles.


St. Helen Cafe
150 Wythe Ave.
(Btwn 6th & 7th)
Brooklyn, NY
718-302-1197