The International Cook Book

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.

HomeThe World's Kitchen › Potage Aux Herbes Lie

Potage Aux Herbes Lie

Remove stems from a quart fresh sorrel, carefully wash and thoroughly drain on a sieve. Pick green leaves from two heads fresh lettuce, wash and drain, then cut both sorrel and lettuce in julienne strips, place in a saucepan with two branches each finely sliced parsley and chervil, an ounce butter, and gently cook for ten minutes, frequently stirring meanwhile. Pour in two and a half quarts broth, season with a teaspoon salt, half teaspoon each pepper and sugar, lightly mix and let slowly boil for one hour. Mix on a plate a gill cream, an egg yolk, juice of a quarter lemon and add to soup. Mix well while heating five minutes, pour soup into a tureen and serve with six slices toasted French bread separately.

For the Modern Kitchen

A classic French herb soup finished with a cream-and-yolk liaison — the lié of the title. Everything else is straightforward; the finish is where it can fail.

A Little History

Potage aux herbes lié is the bound, or thickened, version of the plain French herb soup — lié refers to the liaison of egg yolk and cream stirred in off the boil, a technique Escoffier's generation codified but which is far older in French kitchen practice. Sorrel (oseille) was a kitchen-garden staple across northern Europe long before lemons were cheap, valued precisely for the sourness that oxalic acid gives its leaves; it appears in French soups, sauces for shad and salmon, and purées far more often than in English cooking, where it is often said to have fallen out of favour in the nineteenth century. Its place in The International Cook Book (first published in 1906, with later printings), Filippini's survey of national dishes for American households, reflects the era's assumption that a well-run kitchen could produce a proper French potage, and that a cook would know what sorrel was — an assumption a modern shopper may find optimistic.

← Scrambled Eggs, HenryMignons of Beef, Strasser →