No. 203

Bisque of Crawfish a la Humboldt

Bisque d'Ecrevisses a la Humboldt

Wash thoroughly in several waters, four dozen crawfish, after removing the fins from the middle of the tail (see bisque Persigny, No. 204), drain them, then fry in butter, some carrots, onions, leeks, celery and parsley roots all cut into small squares; moisten with half a bottleful of Rhine wine, the same quantity of broth, and season with salt, mignonette and cayenne, and a gill of tomato puree (No. 730), put this with the crawfish on the fire in a well covered saucepan and cook for fifteen minutes, tossing them frequently while cooking; then drain them, and pick out the meat from the tails. Pound the shells with double their quantity of rice and when all forms a paste, moisten with the broth strained through a fine sieve; season and warm up without boiling, and when ready to serve, mix in a quarter of a pound of crawfish butter. Place the crawfish tails with small pancakes, cut round, five-eighths of an inch in diameter, in the soup tureen and pour the bisque over.

← No. 202 Bisque of Crawfish a la Bateliere Soups & Broths No. 204 Bisque of Crawfish a la Persigny →

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer assumes a brigade, a mortar and a stock pot already at hand. The dish is a classic shell-thickened bisque, and it survives translation to a modern kitchen provided one rule is respected: the finished soup is never allowed to boil.

The hinge: no boiling at the endOnce the strained shell-and-rice puree is reunited with the broth and the crawfish butter is stirred in, the soup is only warmed through. Boiling splits the butter and gives the bisque a grainy, oily surface that will not come back together.
"Removing the fins from the middle of the tail"This is deveining. Twist and pull the centre tail fan on the live crawfish and the intestinal tract comes away with it; skip it and the bisque carries a muddy, bitter note. Do it immediately before cooking.
Buying and purgingFour dozen crawfish is a few pounds live weight and yields only a small quantity of picked tail meat (sizes vary enough that any figure is approximate), which is why the shells carry the flavour here. Keep them alive until cooking and discard any that are already dead.
A gill, and the wineA gill is half a cup. "Half a bottleful" of Rhine wine is about 12 fl oz; a dry Riesling is the closest modern equivalent, and a sweet one will throw the seasoning off.
MignonetteCoarsely cracked peppercorns, white or a white-and-black mix, not a vinegar sauce. Nineteenth-century French kitchens used the term for the crushed pepper itself.
Pounding the shells with riceThe rice is the thickener and the abrasive that helps break the shells down. A heavy blender or food processor will do quickly what the mortar did slowly; the shells must then go through a fine chinois or a sieve lined with muslin, since even small fragments are unpleasant.
Crawfish butterRanhofer refers to his own compound butter: shells and trimmings pounded with butter, then melted, strained and chilled so the coloured fat sets. A quarter pound is a substantial enrichment and should be added off the heat, in pieces.
The pancake garnishThese are thin unsweetened crepes cut into discs about 5/8 inch across, dropped into the tureen with the picked tails so the hot soup is poured over them. Cut them shortly before serving or they dry at the edges.
YieldThe recipe states no yield; the liquid called for (half a bottle of wine and the same quantity of broth) suggests only a few first-course servings. It is a soup course in a long menu, not a main dish.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York for some three decades (in two spells rather than one continuous stretch), and The Epicurean (1894) is his attempt to set the whole repertoire down in print. Bisque in the French sense means a soup thickened with the pounded shells of a crustacean and, historically, with rice or bread rather than cream; the crawfish version, bisque d'ecrevisses, is among the older forms, predating the lobster bisque that later eclipsed it. Ranhofer gives three crawfish bisques in a row, distinguished chiefly by garnish and named after public figures in the manner of the period: Persigny for the French statesman, Bateliere for the boatwoman's style, and this one possibly for Alexander von Humboldt, though nothing in the book says so. The naming is a menu convention rather than any documented connection to the man.