No. 1322

Oxtails Alsatian Style

Queues de Boeuf a l'Alsacienne

Cut the oxtail at a joint of the bone in three inch lengths. Soak them in lukewarm water for one hour, changing the water twice during the time, then throw them in cold water, and drain. Mask the bottom of a saucepan with fragments of ham and bacon, roots and sliced onions; set the pieces of oxtail on top, and cover them up entirely with broth leaving the fat on, and a little brandy. Four hours before dinner boil the liquid, skim, then set the pot in the oven to finish. When ready, strain the broth through a very fine sieve, remove all the fat, and let it rest quietly without stirring. Decant it carefully, pouring it over the oxtails, and leave it until nearly cold, then lift them out; trim the pieces and dip them in melted butter. Roll them in fresh bread-crumbs and broil them on a very slow fire. Arrange them over some cooked sauerkraut (No. 2819), garnishing the dish, and serving a good gravy separate.

← No. 1321 Oxtails a la Chipolata Beef No. 1323 Fried Oxtails →

For the Modern Kitchen

A two-stage dish: the tails are braised until tender, then chilled, crumbed and finished over gentle heat. The braise can be done a day ahead, which is easier than Ranhofer's same-day schedule.

The hinge: broil slowlyOnce crumbed, the meat is already cooked and only needs a crust. A "very slow fire" means gentle, indirect heat — a grill with the coals raked to one side — not a broiler element inches away, which will scorch the crumbs before the interior warms through.
"Mask the bottom"Here it means line or pave the pan, not coat with sauce. Ham and bacon scraps, sliced onion and root vegetables form a bed so the tails braise above the pan floor and take flavor from below.
"Roots"Nineteenth-century shorthand for carrot, turnip, parsnip and celery root or parsley root. Two carrots and a piece of celery root with the onions is enough for 3 lb of oxtail.
Oven temperatureRanhofer brings it to a boil on the stove, then finishes in the oven; no temperature is given, and a low oven of roughly 300–325F is a reasonable modern equivalent. His four-hour window has to cover the braise, the cooling and the broiling, so the oven stage is shorter than four hours: cook covered until the meat pulls from the bone but the pieces still hold together. Overcooked oxtail collapses and cannot be crumbed.
The soakingAn hour in changed lukewarm water draws blood out of the bone so the braising liquid stays clear. It is worth doing if you want the clean, decanted broth the recipe depends on; skip it and the stock will be muddy.
DecantingAfter straining, the fat rises and the fine sediment settles. Skim the fat, then pour the clear middle off carefully and leave the cloudy dregs behind. Chilling the tails in that liquid sets a gelatin coating that helps the butter and crumbs adhere.
The brandy and the brothNo quantities are given. For 3 lb of oxtail, roughly 1½ quarts of beef broth to cover and 2 to 3 tablespoons of brandy is a reasonable reading.
The cross-referencesNo. 2819 is Ranhofer's cooked sauerkraut; drained jarred sauerkraut simmered gently with bacon fat for an hour serves the same purpose. The "good gravy separate" is most sensibly the reserved braising liquid, reduced to a light coating consistency.
YieldAbout 3 to 3½ lb of oxtail serves four as a main course.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and the book is essentially a working reference for a large professional kitchen — hence the numbered cross-references and the assumption that broth, sauerkraut and a good gravy are already standing by. Oxtail was cheap, gelatinous and slow, exactly the sort of cut a restaurant with a full brigade could afford to spend four hours on. The label à l'Alsacienne in French kitchen usage nearly always signals sauerkraut, and often ham or bacon alongside it; Alsace's German-inflected cooking gave classical French menus their shorthand for choucroute garnishes. The crumbing and broiling of already-braised meat is a characteristic nineteenth-century move, the same logic behind breaded calf's feet and grilled pig's trotters: gelatinous cuts, cooked to softness, then given a crust for contrast.