The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1944

Bustard en Daube—Wild Goose

Outarde en Daube--Oie Sauvage

As a bustard is nearly always tough, it is necessary to hang it up for several days. Pick, singe, draw and clean it well; cut off the pinions, neck and drumsticks; detach the legs from the body as well as the breasts, and lard all these meats with large shreds of raw ham, then season; lay them in a vessel with a pint of vinegar and as much water, let macerate for twenty-four hours. Cover the bottom and sides of a large stone stock pot with thin slices of fat pork, range in the bottom a few small carrots and turnips in the shape of three-fourth inch balls, a few onions, a bunch of aromatic herbs and two boned and blanched calf's feet, dredge over whole peppers and cloves then put in the carcass, legs and breast pieces after draining them from their marinade. Moisten to half the height of the meats with white wine, cover over with bards of fat pork, and reduce the liquid for a few moments. Close the vessel hermetically with a piece of paper and a common plate half filled with water and let it cook very slowly in the oven for six to seven hours, according to its tenderness; remove carefully and dress on a large dish with the calf's feet and vegetables; skim the fat from the strained liquid and strain it again over the meat.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

The dish as written is built around a bird that can no longer be taken or bought. The points below explain the obstacles rather than adapting the method.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) was Charles Ranhofer's record of what Delmonico's in New York could actually put on a plate, and its game chapters read as an inventory of a market that no longer exists. Bustard was a prestige bird in European cookery — large, slow-growing, and by Ranhofer's day already scarce enough that continental writers treated it as a rarity — while American market hunting still shipped wild waterfowl and shorebirds to city restaurants by the barrel. The paired title, outarde and oie sauvage, tells you the kitchen expected either to arrive and treated them the same way: hung, larded with ham to compensate for lean dark muscle, soured in vinegar, then sealed in earthenware with calf's feet so the cooking liquid would set to a glaze. That is the classic daube logic applied to a tough wild bird. What ended the practice was not taste but law: the Lacey Act of 1900 and the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 closed the American trade in wild game, and bustards fell under protection as their European populations collapsed.