The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2070

Salmis of Teal Ducks a la Harrison

Salmis de Canards Sauvages, Sarcelles a la Harrison

Roast some teal ducks as for No. 2068. Fry a shallot lightly in butter without acquiring color; add some raw chopped mushrooms, salt, pepper and nutmeg, then moisten with champagne and reduce with the following fumet and espagnole sauce (No. 414) to a proper consistency. Break up the carcasses of the birds, moisten these with broth (No. 194a) and cook for fifteen minutes, then strain forcibly; add to it some cooked ham cut in one-eighth of an inch squares and chopped parsley. The ducks must be cut in four pieces each, namely: two legs, two wings, each of these to be cut lengthwise; dress, mix the gravy and sauce together, pour it over and surround with heart-shaped croutons, then serve.

For the Modern Kitchen

A salmis is a two-stage dish: the birds are roasted first, then finished in a sauce built from their own bones. Ranhofer assumes you have his espagnole and broth already standing in the larder, so most of the work here is deciding what to substitute.

A Little History

Salmis belongs to the older French kitchen's habit of serving a bird twice over: roasted for its flesh, then again in a sauce drawn from its frame, a technique the eighteenth-century tables applied above all to game, where the bones carry most of the flavour. Charles Ranhofer printed this in The Epicurean (1894), the enormous record of his three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York. Ranhofer devoted pages to teal and canvasback because wild waterfowl were still market goods in the 1890s, shot commercially and sold by the barrel in eastern cities; the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 ended that trade in the United States, which is why such a restaurant list of teal preparations reads today like a document from another economy.