The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2376

Oyster Tart or Pie, Smith Style

Tarte aux Huitres a la Smith

Poach in their own liquor three dozen medium oysters, drain and remove the muscles or ligaments. Fry in two ounces of butter, four ounces of bacon cut in three-sixteenths of an inch squares, two ounces of onions cut the same size, and half a pound of peeled and seedless tomatoes cut into five-eighths of an inch pieces; add the oyster liquor, reduce the whole with a pint of veloute sauce (No. 415), and when well done and seasoned nicely, add the oysters. Place all of this into a deep pie dish (Fig. 183), and lay on the edge, after slightly wetting it, a narrow band of puff paste (No. 146) an eighth of an inch thick and half an inch wide; moisten the top of this band, and cover the whole with a layer of paste made of fragments of puff paste; cut away the extending edges, and decorate the top with bits of the paste rolled out to one-eighth of an inch in thickness; pinch the edges round the border, and egg over the surface twice, then cook the pie in a hot oven for twenty to thirty minutes, and serve on a folded napkin. Either salt or smoked bacon can be used.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer assumes a brigade kitchen and a numbered sauce cupboard, so the work here is mostly in the preparation before anything goes into the dish. Two things decide whether it succeeds: the oysters must be barely poached, and the filling must be thick and fully cooled before the pastry goes on.

A Little History

This comes from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the enormous record of his years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, where French technique was applied to American abundance. Oysters were that abundance at its plainest: the beds around New York supplied the city so cheaply through the nineteenth century that oysters appeared in chowders, stuffings, fritters and pies as a matter of routine rather than luxury. The "à la Smith" of the title follows Delmonico's habit of naming dishes for patrons, and in this case the name now points to a person no one can identify with confidence. What is legible is the construction: bacon, onion and tomato reduced into a velouté is a bourgeois French ragoût, and the oysters are folded in at the last moment because Ranhofer knew, as the recipe's ordering makes plain, that they were the one ingredient that could be ruined.