The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 252

Cream of Celery or Cardoons a la Livingstone

Creme de Celeri ou Cardons a la Livingstone

For the Celery, remove the threads covering the stalks; have two pounds of very white, cut-up celery, blanch it in plenty of water, and cook in two quarts of white broth; when done, drain and mash it well to reduce it to a paste, diluting it with its own broth; press it through a fine sieve or tammy, add one pint of veloute (No. 415), and some more broth should the puree be too thick; then heat the soup without letting it boil, seasoning with salt, sugar and nutmeg. Thicken it with egg-yolks, cream and butter (No. 175). Serve in a separate tureen a marrow quenelle garnishing.

Marrow Quenelles.—Melt half a pound of well cleansed marrow; strain into a cool bowl through a fine muslin; beat it till it becomes a cream, then add eight egg-yolks one by one, and beat again until thoroughly incorporated, season with salt, pepper, nutmeg, add half a pound of white and very fresh bread-crumbs; divide this into four parts and form these into strings half an inch thick, then cut them across to have each one-half an inch long; roll in flour and poach in boiling water; serve with the soup. The cream of cardoons is made in exactly the same way as the cream of celery.

For the Modern Kitchen

A classic French cream soup built on a celery purée, a veléé base and an egg-yolk liaison, with poached marrow dumplings served alongside. The whole thing hinges on temperature control at the end.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York across much of the period from the 1860s to the 1890s, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that restaurant's working repertoire set down in numbered, cross-referenced form. Dishes in the book are routinely named for patrons, public figures and occasions, and "a la Livingstone" appears to belong to that habit of flattery-by-menu rather than to any documented recipe of a Livingstone's own; the Livingston family was long prominent in New York, though the book does not say which member, if any, is meant. Both celery and cardoons were blanched under soil or wrapping to keep the stalks pale and mild, and both were treated as choice winter vegetables, which may be why they share a single entry here. Marrow quenelles as a garnish are firmly of the period: marrow was a prized cooking fat, and its use here as a rich binder for a bread-crumb dumpling shows the kind of thrift-turned-extravagance that defined grand hotel cooking.