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.

Home › The World's Kitchen › Puree of Potatoes, Inouye

Puree of Potatoes, Inouye

Place in saucepan a half pound salt pork cut in small pieces, four sliced leeks, one sliced onion, two bay leaves and one ounce butter, place pan on fire and brown for ten minutes, stirring once in a while. Add six good-sized, well-washed, peeled potatoes, moisten with three pints broth and one pint water, season with a teaspoon salt and half teaspoon pepper, gently mix, cover pan and boil rather slowly for one hour. Press through sieve into a vessel, then through Chinese strainer into another saucepan and keep on corner of range.

Plunge two ounces Japanese pearl tapioca in a pint boiling water with a half teaspoon salt and boil for forty minutes, stirring at bottom once in a while. Place on sieve and wash in cold water, then drain well and add to soup with a pint hot milk, saltspoon cayenne and half ounce butter, mix well while heating for five minutes, pour soup into tureen and serve.

For the Modern Kitchen

A leek-and-potato soup finished with tapioca pearls, written for a coal range and a professional batterie de cuisine. Nothing here is difficult, but several of the vessels and timings need translating.

A Little History

Alexander Filippini, long the cook at Delmonico's in New York, built The International Cook Book around the fashion of the day for naming dishes after people and places, and this soup follows the Escoffier-era convention exactly: a French potato-and-leek base given a proper name and a single foreign garnish to justify it. The Japanese element here is the tapioca — pearl tapioca was sometimes sold under the "Japanese" label in this period, though the cassava root it comes from is South American. Inouye was a common enough Japanese surname to serve as a label; whether Filippini had a particular person in mind is not recorded. What the recipe really shows is how thoroughly a classical French kitchen absorbed novelty: an unfamiliar starch arrives, and within a page it has been boiled, rinsed and dropped into a purée that would otherwise be an ordinary potage parmentier.

← Crisp Swiss Pancakes or CrostriHalibut, Portugaise →