The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2247

Crepine of Reedbirds

Crepine de Mauviettes

Take one dozen well cleaned and boned reedbirds, remove the breasts and put the leg meats and intestines into a sautoir, fry them in butter with some truffle parings and let get cold; season with salt and pepper, pound to a pulp and press through a sieve; mix in with this as much game quenelle forcemeat (No. 91), and later add an equal quantity of fine herbs. Pare the breasts, remove the skin without extracting the minion fillets, season and cover both sides with a part of the forcemeat. Have some fresh and well soaked "crepine" or caul fat; remove the fattest parts with a knife and wrap the breasts in, dip them once in butter, then in bread-crumbs, smoothing this nicely with the blade of a knife, fry in clarified butter, drain and dress in a circle with a bread crouton between each of the breasts. Fry some chopped mushroom, shallot and parsley, moisten with a little white wine and good stock; reduce the stock, add to it a little meat glaze (No. 402) and parsley and finish with a piece of fresh butter; cover the crepines with this and serve at once.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

The technique here — boned breasts jacketed in forcemeat, wrapped in caul, crumbed and fried — is sound classical work, but the bird itself puts this recipe out of reach in the United States and much of Europe.

A Little History

Reedbirds were bobolinks, netted and shot in enormous numbers on their autumn migration through the tidal rice and wild-oat marshes of the mid-Atlantic, where they fattened to the point that market men sold them by the dozen as a delicacy. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's for much of the period between 1862 and 1896, served them, and The Epicurean (1894) treats them as a staple of the miscellaneous entr"e chapter alongside larks and ortolans, French names attached to American birds for the benefit of a New York clientele that wanted Paris on the plate. The trade was one of the clearest examples of what market hunting could do to an abundant species, and it is precisely the kind of commerce the Migratory Bird Treaty Act was written to stop. The recipe survives chiefly as evidence of a vanished table: a dozen songbirds boned, their breasts padded with truffle-scented farce and fried in caul, for a single course among many.