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.

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Puree, Conti

Soak a pint of dried lentils in cold water with quarter of a pint of dried green peas for one hour, drain, place them in a saucepan with a sliced carrot, a sliced onion. Tie in a bunch two leeks, two branches parsley, one branch chervil, one bean garlic and one bay leaf and add to the pan, with half pound lean salt pork cut in small pieces and a pint fresh crushed tomatoes. Moisten with three quarts water, season with two teaspoons salt and half teaspoon pepper, lightly mix and let slowly boil for two hours. Remove from the fire, skim the fat from the surface of the soup, then press it through a sieve into a basin, then through Chinese strainer into soup tureen, and serve with a plate of croutons

For the Modern Kitchen

A classic French lentil purée, written for a kitchen with a stockpot and a conical strainer. Two adjustments matter most: the salt and the sieving.

A Little History

Purée Conti is one of the fixed names of the nineteenth-century French repertoire: in the classical kitchen a soup called Conti means lentils, just as Saint-Germain means green peas and Crécy means carrots. The name is generally traced to the princely house of Conti, a branch of the Bourbons, though as with most of these garnish names the connection is traditional rather than documented. Its appearance in an English-language cook book reflects how thoroughly the grand-hotel style of cooking ran on the French nomenclature — a reader was expected to recognize the name and know roughly what would arrive. The construction is pure economy dressed up: cheap pulses, a piece of salt pork for depth, aromatics lifted out in a bundle, and then the labor of two strainings, which is the only thing that separates this from a farmhouse lentil pottage.

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