‘For the manufacture of imitation cheese, about 4½ per cent. of this imitation cream is added to the skim-milk. The latter being raised to 85° Fahr., and the former to 135° Fahr. or upwards, the mixture attains a temperature of about 90° Fahr. The remainder of the process is identical with that used in the manufacture of American Cheddar cheese, except that a special mechanical agitator is used to insure that the curd shall be evenly stirred and cooked, so as to avoid any loss of fat in the whey. Success or failure in the manufacture of imitation cheese seems to depend chiefly upon the perfect emulsion of the skim-milk with the fat in the preliminary process of making artificial cream. That having been accomplished, the remaining processes are said to be perfectly easy and satisfactory. It has been asserted by competent judges that the best descriptions of oleomargarine cheese can with difficulty, if at all, be detected from the ordinary American Cheddar of commerce; but the imitation product has nevertheless a tendency to become rapidly mouldy after having been cut. ‘The trade in imitation butter is now something enormous and increases every year; in the Netherlands alone there are sixty or seventy factories. Imitation cheese is only just beginning to appear on the London market, but there can be little doubt that before long it will compete successfully with all but the best and most delicate descriptions of the real article, unless it is branded so as to show its true character. One firm alone, in New York State, made 200,000 lbs. of imitation cheese last year, and their factories are in full work again this year.’ My first acquaintance with the rational cookery of cheese was in the autumn of 1842, when I dined with the monks of St. Bernard. Being the only guest, I was the first to be supplied with soup, and then came a dish of grated cheese. Being young and bashful, I was ashamed to display my ignorance by asking what I was to do with the cheese, but made a bold dash, nevertheless, and sprinkled some of it into my soup. I then learned that my guess was quite correct; the prior and the monks did the same. On walking on to Italy I learned that there such use of cheese is universal. Minestra without Parmesan would in Italy be regarded as we in England should regard muffins and crumpets without butter. During the forty years that have elapsed since my first sojourn in Italy, my sympathies are continually lacerated when I contemplate the melancholy spectacle of human beings eating thin soup without any grated cheese.