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Over three thousand recipes from the man who cooked at Delmonico's — French sauces, Italian pastas, Indian curries and American pies, the whole eating world of 1906 in one volume.

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Fried Filets of Halibut, Horly

Remove the skin and bones from a two-and-a-half-pound piece of the tail part of a fresh halibut, cut into six equal filets. Place them on a deep dish with half a sliced onion, the juice of a sound lemon, half teaspoon chopped parsley, two tablespoons oil, teaspoon salt and half teaspoon pepper, repeatedly turn the filets in the seasoning and let infuse in a cool place for fifteen minutes. Drain them, then lightly turn them in flour, lightly dip in beaten egg, and lightly roll in bread crumbs. Arrange them in a frying basket and fry in hot, but not boiling, fat for twelve minutes. Lift up, drain well on a coarse towel, sprinkle a little salt over, dress on dish with folded napkin and serve with one gill hot tomato sauce separately.

For the Modern Kitchen

A classic Orly-style fried fish: brief marinade, three-stage breading, deep fry, tomato sauce alongside. The only figure that needs real rethinking is the frying time.

A Little History

The name is a spelling of à l'Orly, one of the fixed formulas of nineteenth-century French restaurant cooking: fish (most often sole) marinated briefly in oil, lemon and herbs, coated à l'anglaise in flour, egg and crumbs, deep-fried, and sent out with tomato sauce apart. The origin of the name is disputed and usually traced, without firm evidence, either to the town of Orly or to a cook of that name; by Escoffier's day it was standard kitchen vocabulary rather than a novelty. Its appearance here with halibut rather than sole is the telling detail. Books of this kind, compiled for American hotel and household kitchens around the turn of the twentieth century, often mapped French service names onto the fish that actually came off the boats, and halibut was landed in quantity, above all in the Pacific fishery. The folded napkin, the separate sauceboat and the exact count of six filets suggest a professional dining room, where a garnish name told the whole brigade what to do without further instruction.

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