The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1205

Matelote of Fishermen

Matelote des Pecheurs

Clean well a small eel, a carp, a pike, and a tench; cut them up into slices after suppressing the heads and thin parts, then salt them. Cook in a saucepan some minced onions, add the heads and bones from the fish, and two minutes after moisten with white wine; put in a bunch of parsley garnished with garlic, mushroom peelings and salt, then cook this broth for twenty minutes; strain, remove the fat, and pour it into a saucepan to thicken with kneaded butter (No. 579); let cook for seven or eight minutes. Wipe well the pieces of fish, put them into a saucepan wider than its height, cover with the sauce, adding two dozen uncooked mushrooms and let all boil for fifteen minutes on a brisk fire, being careful to remove each piece of fish as soon as it is done. Dress these pieces on a deep dish over thin flat crusts of bread browned in butter, surrounded with the mushrooms, then reduce the sauce without ceasing to stir; butter it off from the fire and finish by adding to the sauce pieces of four ounces each, and the juice of a lemon; pour this over the fish.

For the Modern Kitchen

A boatman's stew of four freshwater fish in a white-wine sauce, from Ranhofer's Delmonico repertoire. The fish stock is built from the heads and frames, thickened, and then used as the cooking liquid for the flesh itself, so nothing is wasted and the sauce carries the whole dish.

A Little History

A matelote is a sailor's or boatman's stew — the word comes from matelot, and the dish is associated above all with the rivers rather than the sea, the Loire, the Seine, the Marne and the Saône, where innkeepers cooked whatever the nets brought up in wine from the nearest vineyard. The classic combination of eel, carp, pike and tench is the freshwater fisherman's catch, and eel is generally held to be indispensable: its gelatin is what gives the sauce body before any butter or flour is added. Matelotes are more often made with red wine; this white-wine version, closer to what is often called matelote à la marinière, produces a paler, sharper sauce finished with lemon. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, included it in The Epicurean (1894) among dozens of fish preparations, a reminder that an American luxury restaurant of the period still drew its working vocabulary directly from French provincial cooking, even when the fish in question would have had to come from the Hudson or the Great Lakes.