The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 382

Beef, Mutton, Chicken, or Veal Tea

The de Boeuf, Mouton, Poulet ou Vean

Two pounds of lean meat free from nerves and skin, either beef, mutton, chicken, or veal, taken from the thighs or any other juicy parts. Cut the meat into small quarter of inch squares, set them in a saucepan and pour over three pints of cold water, with a little salt added. Boil, skim, and keep near boiling point for one hour, then strain through a sieve or napkin and serve in cups. Another way is to fill up champagne bottles with the meat, put half a gill of water in each, tie down the cork with a string or wire, boil for three hours, uncork and pass through a napkin.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

A clear, unthickened extraction of meat rather than a stock: no bones, no vegetables, no browning. The technique is simple, but two details decide whether it tastes like meat or like dishwater.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, gave The Epicurean (1894) a full section of "Broths and Soups for Invalids" because a great restaurant kitchen and a great house kitchen were both expected to cook for the sick as competently as for the table. Meat teas of this kind were a mainstay of Victorian sick-room cookery on both sides of the Atlantic, and were later commercialised into bottled beef extracts. The faith placed in them rested on a chemistry that turned out to be wrong: the flavourful soluble fraction of meat is largely free amino acids, salts and gelatin, while the protein stays behind in the drained fibres. Florence Nightingale, often cited in this connection, in fact recommended beef tea as a restorative while explicitly denying that it had much nutritive power.