The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2363

Souffle of Lobster in Cases

Souffle de Homard en Caisses

Plunge a two-pound lobster into boiling water so as to kill it quickly, and when cold split it lengthwise in two, take out the meat from the half tails, cut it up and pound the pieces with two or three spoonfuls of good reduced veloute sauce (No. 415); finish with some red butter (No. 580), adding also a piece of fresh butter: press this through a sieve, and put the puree back into the mortar, and with the pestle pound it well to make it have a good, consistent body, allowing it to absorb very slowly three gills of good raw cream; season and finally add two spoonfuls of the creamy part from the bodies, a dash of cayenne pepper and two spoonfuls of whipped cream. With this preparation fill either some round buttered paper (No. 439), silver (No. 438) or porcelain cases, wiped dry and buttered; dredge over the insides with bread-crumbs and fill the cases and lay them on a baking sheet; push them into a slack oven and let the preparation cook from fifteen to twenty minutes; it should be cooked in a very hot oven, otherwise it will become black. After taking the souffles from the oven, glaze the surfaces with a little of the same reduced veloute sauce, finish with red butter (No. 580), and serve them at once.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer's "souffle" here contains no eggs at all — it is a lobster mousseline set by the protein in the meat and lightened only with whipped cream, so expect a delicate set rather than a dramatic rise. Nearly everything else in the recipe depends on cross-references to other numbers in The Epicurean.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and this dish sits in a long run of souffles — of game, of partridge, of chicken — that were the fashionable light entree of the American gilded-age menu. Caisses means "cases": small individual moulds of silver, porcelain or oiled paper, which allowed the kitchen to send out one portion per diner rather than a single dish to be carved at table. The technique itself is French classical mousseline work — pounded flesh, sieved, mounted with cream — and it is what a nineteenth-century professional kitchen did with lobster tail. Lobster butter, made from the coral and shells that would otherwise be discarded, reflects a brigade kitchen's habit of extracting a second dish from the trimmings of the first.