The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2585

Salmon, a la Courbet

Saumon a la Courbet

Have the salmon already prepared and cooked the same as the Destaing (No. 2580); cover it with softened and smooth crawfish butter (No. 573) and decorate through a cornet; dredge the whole surface lightly with lobster coral chopped exceedingly fine and sifted through a sieve. Lay the fish on a socle and garnish around with lobster escalops covered with jellied mayonnaise (No. 613) and strew the surface with finely chopped truffles; between the escalops place clusters of fine large shrimp tails covered with jelly, and between each moscovite egg garnishing (No. 2511). Insert in the fish three hatelets composed of crawfish and decorated quenelles. Serve a mayonnaise cardinal sauce (No. 608) at the same time.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is an assembly and presentation entry rather than a cooking recipe: the salmon itself is poached elsewhere in the book (No. 2580, Destaing), chilled, and then dressed. Nearly every element is a cross-reference, so the work is in the sub-preparations.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and this run of cold salmon entries shows the grande cuisine buffet at its most elaborate: one poached fish, a dozen cross-referenced sub-preparations, and a named variation for every patron worth flattering. Dishes in this style were customarily named for a person or an occasion, and Courbet has sometimes been taken to honor Admiral Am e9d e9e Courbet, the French naval commander whose Tonkin campaigns filled American papers in the mid-1880s, though the name could equally belong to any number of other bearers, and Ranhofer, as usual, gives no explanation. The construction itself, cold fish masked in a compound shellfish butter, decorated through a cornet, raised on a socle and pierced with silver hatelets, belongs to the Car e8me tradition of the pi e8ce mont e9e, where a cold table was judged as much on architecture as on flavor. The hatelets and socles disappeared from restaurant practice within a generation, which is why the vocabulary of this entry now reads as more foreign than its ingredients.