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 › Puree of Sorrel with Peas

Puree of Sorrel with Peas

Thoroughly wash and drain two quarts fresh sorrel, then slice them finely, place in a large saucepan with an ounce butter and cook on the fire fifteen minutes, or till the moisture is nearly evaporated, stirring once in a while. Then add pint of shelled green peas, three good-sized, peeled, sliced, raw potatoes, one sliced onion, one bean crushed garlic, two branches chervil and a pound piece of lean salt pork. Moisten with three quarts water. Season with a teaspoon salt, one teaspoon sugar and half teaspoon pepper. Mix well, cover the pan and let slowly boil two hours, mixing a little once in a while. Lift up the pork and save it for later use. Add two gills milk, mix well, then boil five minutes. Press the puree through a sieve into a basin, then through a Chinese strainer into a soup tureen, and serve with a plate of bread croutons separately.

For the Modern Kitchen

A French country soup built on sorrel's sharpness, thickened with potato and enriched at the end with milk. Nothing here is difficult, but a few of the measures and vessels need translating.

A Little History

Sorrel soup runs right across northern Europe — the French potage Germiny and soupe à l'oseille, the Polish and Ukrainian zielony barszcz and shchav, all built on the same sour leaf that grows wild in damp meadows and was for centuries a cheap source of acidity in a kitchen without lemons. The version here is plainly French in construction: the salt pork simmered whole and lifted out for later use, the finish with milk, the passage through a chinois, and the plate of croutons handed separately. It is characteristic of a certain economy — one piece of pork flavouring three quarts of soup and then going on to a second appearance at table. Sorrel is now uncommon in English-speaking markets, in part because it keeps and travels badly, which is why a soup that was once ordinary reads as unfamiliar.

← Cold Mutton, MayonnaisePotatoes, Christiana →