The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 369

Extract of Beef, Clarified

Extrait de Boeuf Clarifie

Remove the fat and nerves from five pounds of lean beef, either from the leg or rump, chop it up very fine and divide it equally into three empty and well washed champagne bottles, adding to each bottle, one gill of broth or water, or not any should a more concentrated extract be desired; cork and tie them well. Place these bottles in a high bain-marie, wrapping each bottle up in a cloth, and fill to five-sixths of their heighth with water; boil continually for two hours, and leave the bottles in the water one half hour after removing the saucepan from the fire, then uncork carefully. Fold two sheets of filtering paper together, lay them in a glass funnel and set these over high gallon glass jars, pour the liquid slowly through the paper and when all is strained, fill a well washed and clean champagne bottle with it; cork it up, letting the liquid reach nearly as far up as the cork, and put it on ice to keep.

For the Modern Kitchen

A cold-extraction method by another name: the beef is never browned, never boiled in liquid, and never seasoned. What comes out is the meat's own juice, drawn out by gentle heat and then filtered until it runs clear. Two things need attention before you start, the sealed bottles and the keeping.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) was Charles Ranhofer's summing-up of thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and its chapter of broths for invalids reflects a genuine medical function that restaurant and household kitchens both carried in the period. Beef tea and clarified meat extract were prescribed for fever, convalescence and childbirth throughout the nineteenth century, on the belief that the soluble juices of meat carried its nourishment in a form a weak stomach could take; Justus von Liebig's commercial Extract of Meat, launched in the 1860s, made the idea an industry. The chemistry was later shown to be largely wrong, since what dissolves out is mostly gelatin, salts and flavour compounds rather than protein of any consequence, but the technique survives in the kitchen for other reasons. Extracting meat in a sealed vessel set in water, then filtering to absolute clarity, is the same logic behind a consommé and behind the modern sous-vide jus, and Ranhofer's insistence on washed bottles, folded filter paper and immediate icing shows a professional kitchen thinking in more or less laboratory terms.