The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 345

Shrimp Soup, Mignon

Potage aux Crevettes Mignon

Keep boiling on the side of the fire one quart and a half of thickened fish stock (No 195). Break off the tails from a hundred cooked red shrimps, pick the meat from the shells, trim them and pound the parings with one-third of the picked tails, selecting the smallest ones for this; also a piece of butter and four egg-yolks, then press all through a sieve; keep the puree in a cool place, also the remainder of the picked tails cut in small dice. Put into the boiling soup half of the pounded shells; with a smallest size root spoon, five-sixteenth of an inch, cut out some very small cooked truffle balls, and set these into another small saucepan; divide into two equal parts the value of four or five spoonfuls of raw fish quenelle forcemeat (No. 90); into one mix some Breton carmine, leaving the other half white; place these two forcemeats separately into a paper cornet, and push them through on to a buttered baking sheet to form beads; poach them separately in salted water, drain and lay them in the soup tureen. From one quart of shelled green peas select one to two gills of the smallest and tenderest, and boil them in water; when drained, add them to the quenelles in the soup tureen. After the soup is well despumated, remove all its grease and strain it through a tammy; return it to a clean saucepan, let it boil, adding to it three spoonfuls of Madeira wine; two minutes later, thicken it with the shrimp puree and cook this thickening without letting it boil. Remove, and finish with a dash of cayenne pepper and a piece of red butter. Pour the soup into the tureen, add to it the shrimp tails, butter and truffles, and serve at once.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a stockpot already going and cross-references half the book. Stripped down, this is a fish velouté finished with a shrimp-shell-and-egg-yolk liaison, garnished with three separate poached or boiled elements. Read the whole thing through before starting, because everything but the soup itself is made in advance.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of his thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and it is organized less as a cookbook than as a professional reference: over a thousand numbered soups, sauces and garnishes that call on one another by number. Mignon here simply means dainty or delicate, and the name is earned by the scale of the garnish — pea-sized quenelles in two colors, melon-balled truffles, the smallest peas picked out of a quart, diced shrimp tails — all of it labor performed so that a spoonful looks composed. That kind of miniature garnish work descends from the French service Ranhofer trained in before emigrating, and it was exactly what a Gilded Age restaurant sold: not scarce ingredients so much as visible hours of skilled hands. The shell-and-yolk liaison, meanwhile, is old thrift dressed up — the parings and smallest tails, which no diner would want to see, pounded through a sieve to thicken and flavor the very soup they came from.