No. 360

Woodcock Soup

Potage de Becasses

Remove the four fillets from two cold roasted woodcocks; pound two of these fillets with the livers and a few slices of cooked foies-gras; press through a sieve, and put this puree into a mortar, mixing in with it a third of its quantity of raw game quenelle forcemeat (No. 91); two whole eggs, a pinch of nutmeg, and half a gill of cold espagnole sauce. Poach this preparation in small buttered timbale molds (No. 1, Fig. 137). Despumate on the side of the fire, two quarts of game stock (No. 195), add to it the carcasses, necks, and heads of the woodcocks, all chopped up and a few aromatic herbs and twenty minutes later, skim off the fat, strain it through a tammy, and put it back into a clean saucepan, to heat, stirring it with a spatula continually to prevent the soup adhering to the bottom of the pan, finish by incorporating into it a small piece of butter, having previously removed the soup from the fire. Pour the soup into a tureen, adding the two breasts kept aside, mincing them up in Julienne, also the poached timbales.

Soups and Different Preparations for Invalids

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For the Modern Kitchen

A game consommé built from two already-roasted birds, garnished with julienned breast and small poached forcemeat custards. Nothing here is difficult, but the sourcing and the finishing are both unforgiving.

Sourcing the birdsWoodcock cannot legally be sold in the United States — it is a migratory game bird, so the only supply is a licensed hunter in season. Imported farmed quail or squab (two birds, roasted rare, plus their livers) gives the closest workable substitute, though the flavour is milder and less musky.
Half a gillA gill is half a cup, so half a gill of espagnole is 2 fl oz, about a quarter cup. Ranhofer often measures liquids in gills; read a gill as half a cup.
DespumateSimply to skim — hold the stock at a bare tremble on the cool side of the burner so the scum and fat gather at one edge and can be lifted off. Boiling it hard clouds the soup, which is the whole point of the technique.
TammyA tammy is a fine worsted straining cloth wrung between two people. A double layer of dampened muslin in a chinois does the same job.
The livers, and what the birds containWoodcock are traditionally roasted undrawn, and the "livers" in period cookery often mean the whole trail, mashed onto toast. If you are working from a drawn bird you will need to buy extra poultry livers to make up the quantity for the puree.
The timbalesButter small dariole or timbale moulds, fill three-quarters full, and poach in a water bath until just set; the recipe specifies neither oven nor temperature, so keep the water below a simmer and check a small mould early. They should wobble; a firm one has gone rubbery and will not float pleasantly in the broth.
The butter finishThis is the hinge. The butter goes in off the heat, and the soup must not return to a boil afterwards or it will break and go greasy on the surface. Same for the reheating before that — stir with a spatula across the bottom, do not let it catch.
The reserved breastsCut the two held-back fillets into fine julienne and add them to the hot tureen at the last moment. They are already cooked; further simmering turns them grey and stringy.
YieldThe recipe starts from two quarts of game stock, which would portion out to roughly eight first-course servings, with two small timbales each; Ranhofer gives no serving count.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York and published The Epicurean in 1894 as a complete record of that house's repertoire, numbered and cross-referenced like an engineering manual — hence the constant pointers to forcemeat No. 91 and game stock No. 195. Woodcock held an extraordinary place in nineteenth-century restaurant cooking: prized for the strong, almost liver-like flavour of a bird that is customarily cooked undrawn, it appeared on American menus in quantity because market hunting was still legal and wild game moved freely through city markets. That trade was shut down in the United States by federal migratory bird protection in the early twentieth century, which is why a soup that was a routine luxury for Ranhofer's clientele now depends entirely on a hunter's generosity. The construction — a clarified game essence, a julienne garnish, and separately poached forcemeat customs — is standard grande cuisine practice of the period, in which the garnish was expected to announce the bird the broth was made from.