3 young hen lobsters, boiled
Mace or nutmeg
Lemon peel, grated
Anchovies
Cayenne pepper
1 egg yolk
3 quarts veal broth
Butter and flour for thickening
Lemon juice
Essence of anchovy

You must have three fine lively young hen lobsters, and boil them; when cold, split the tails; take out the fish, crack the claws, and cut the meat into mouthfuls: take out the coral, and soft part of the body; bruise part of the coral in a mortar; pick out the fish from the chines; beat part of it with the coral, and with this make forcemeat balls, finely-flavored with mace or nutmeg, a little grated lemon-peel, and Cayenne; pound these with the yelk of an egg.

Have three quarts of veal broth; bruise the small legs and the chine, and put them into it, to boil for twenty minutes, then strain it; and then to thicken it, take the live spawn and bruise it in a mortar with a little butter and flour; rub it through a sieve, and add it to the soup with the meat of the lobsters, and the remaining coral; let it simmer very gently for ten minutes; do not let it boil, or its fine red color will immediately fade; turn it into a tureen; add the juice of a good lemon, and a little essence of anchovy.

The Cook’s Oracle by William Kitchiner, MD, New York, 1829

Comment: Lobsters, they say, were once so common in Atlantic waters that they were considered virtual junk food, and fed to prisoners in jail. It is unlikely that those unfortunates were given access to mace, nutmeg, lemon peel or Cayenne, so there are at least some advantages to the present day. “Chines” is a rather unusual term for the exoskeleton of a crustacean, as it usually refers to the neck bones of something like a sheep rather than the shell of a lobster. We must allow Dr. Kitchiner his little quirks. If you search your lobster innards for “coral” and don’t find a little red object, you have been given male lobsters rather than the female (hen) ones called for here.

          

Eggs
Beef, chicken or vegetable broth
Minced meat or vegetables as desired

This dish is particularly suitable to invalids and little children who are not of an age to masticate [chew] their food. All the nutritive qualities of the eggs are preserved, together with the lightness of the omelette.

The requisite number of eggs is beaten, seasoned, and passed through a sieve, to which a small quantity of good gravy [broth or stock] is added. The mixture must be placed in an enameled stewpan, and set over a slow fire till the eggs thicken. The stewing pan is then removed and a small piece of fresh butter is added to the mixture, which, when melted, is ready to receive the addition of any finely minced fowl, meat, fish, asparagus, pease or cauliflower that may be desired. The latter ingredients must be stirred in until warm through, but not suffered to boil.

From Godey’s Lady’s Book magazine, reader submitted recipe, 1864.

Comment: This is clearly the dish which, with the substitution of “Chinese” vegetables such as bean sprouts, evolved into what we now know as “egg foo yung.” The technique of cooking–perhaps better described as scrambling–the eggs first and then adding the meat and vegetable ingredients is puzzling, but we prints ‘em as we gets ‘em. The added ingredients should be leftovers or previously cooked items needing only to be reheated, since the eggs would be hideously overcooked otherwise.

“Pease” is simply the plural of “pea” as spelled in earlier times. The dish known as “pease porridge,” perhaps better known as the subject of a nursery rhyme than as a dinner dish today, is the main surviving use of the term.