The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1253

Shad, Brussels Style

Alose a la Bruxelloise

Raise the fillets from a shad and remove the skin, then lay the fish on a buttered dish. Mix with two ounces of fresh butter, one ounce of finely chopped fresh mushrooms, pepper, salt, nutmeg, lemon juice and a clove of crushed garlic; cover the fish with this preparation, dredge over bread-crumbs and grated parmesan and pour over a little melted butter. Cook the shad in a hot oven and when done, press over the juice of a lemon; besprinkle with chopped parsley, and cover with a rather light brown sauce (No. 414) made with white wine.

For the Modern Kitchen

A straightforward gratin of shad fillet under a compound butter, crumbs and cheese. The whole thing lives or dies on timing: shad is a thin, oily fillet that overcooks in a minute or two past done.

A Little History

Shad occupied a place in nineteenth-century American cooking that is hard to imagine now: the spring runs up the Hudson, Delaware and Connecticut rivers brought in fish by the wagonload, cheap enough for shad planked over open fires at riverside outings and fine enough for Delmonico's, where Charles Ranhofer was chef when he compiled The Epicurean (1894). His answer to a glut of a local fish was to run it through the whole French repertoire, which is why this section carries shad done in the manner of several different places. A la bruxelloise in classical usage usually points to a garnish of Brussels sprouts, chicory or braised endive; here the name attaches instead to the gratin treatment with butter, mushrooms and cheese, a reminder that these regional labels were loose commercial shorthand rather than fixed formulas. The bones were the standing complaint then as now, and long baking was among the period's remedies, aimed at softening them enough to be tolerable.