Les Cuisses de Nymphe à l’Aurore
Frogs Legs
I have been struggling with how best to broach the topic of frog legs. It is controversial, both from the standpoint of Crowley’s actions — which I will delve into momentarily — and also from the gastronomic aspect as many have a visceral, negative reaction towards eating amphibians. The French have been pejoratively known as “frogs” since the 18th century due to the existence of frog legs on menus, which has been a staple in their cuisine since the medieval era. And it isn’t as though other countries don’t consume frogs; they do, but mainly in southeast Asia and China. Frog legs grew in popularity in Europe during the 12th century thanks to the Catholic church who classified the frog as a fish, thereby adding it as an additional tasty ingredient to the otherwise sparse gastronomic offerings eaten during the Lent, when meat was verboten. French peasants soon followed the examples made by monks and frog leg consumption grew.
With the rise of the French monarchy into the 17th century, frogs legs became a delicacy amongst the nobles and aristocracy as cuisses en persillade or cuisses au beurre (cuisses being thighs). Alexandre Dumas, in his Grand Dictionnaire de Cuisine, wrote of an enterprising Auvergnat who became rich on the breeding of frogs for the country’s best restaurants. Larousse Gastronomique cites that frog legs “generally fill the British with disgust,” but a change of heart came about when the famous French chef, Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935), became the Chef de Cuisine at London’s famed Savoy hotel in 1890. For a dinner held in honor of the Prince of Wales — later Edward VII — knowing full well the course might be rejected, Escoffier slowly braised the frogs legs in herbed court-bouillon and served them with an unctuous sauce topped with a thickened chicken jelly as an hors d’œuvre. By titling the dish Les Cuisses de Nymphe à l’Aurore — or thighs of the dawn nymphs — Escoffier is daring libidinous gentlemen such as the likes of the playboy prince or hedonist Aleister Crowley to pique their appetite with enticingly suggestive descriptions.
While not at this particular dinner for the Prince, Crowley was known to have met and dined with Mary Dempsey-Sturges at the Savoy in October of 1911. Of course we can’t know for certain that what Crowley ordered while dining at The Savoy, but that he was there at the same time as Escoffier attests to Crowley certainly benefitting from Escoffier’s masterful culinary efforts firsthand. From Escoffier’s Le Guide Culinaire:
For various reasons, I thought it best, in the past, to substitute the mythological name “Nymphs” for the more vulgar term “Frogs” on menus, and the former has been universally adopted, more particularly in reference to the following “Chaud-froid à l’Aurore”:
Poach the frogs’ legs in an excellent white-wine court-bouillon. When cooled, trim them properly, dry them thoroughly in a piece of fine linen, and steep them, one after the other, in a chaud-froid sauce of fish with paprika, the tint of which should be golden. This done, arrange the treated legs on a layer of champagne jelly, which should have set beforehand on the bottom of a square, silver dish or crystal bowl. Now lay some chervil pluches [fried] and tarragon leaves between the legs in imitation of water-grasses, and cover the whole with champagne jelly to counterfeit the effect of water.
Send the dish to the table, set in a block of ice, fashioned as fancy may suggest.
Why frog legs? For those well-versed in Crowley lore, many will know that his 1916 magickal retirement in New Hampshire produced Liber LXX, aka “the Cross of the Frog” which to the lay-person, involves a particularly gruesome-sounding sacrifice, preparation, and consumption of a frog. The ritual began at 2:00 a.m. with the Mystery of Conception then the Mystery of Birth around 6:00 a.m. This follows with the Mystery of Worship, the Mystery of Trial, and culminating with the Mystery of Resurrection and Ascension the following evening:
Presently thou shalt take down the frog from the cross and divide it into two parts; the legs shalt thou cook and eat as a sacrament to confirm thy compact with the frog; and the rest shalt thou burn utterly with fire, to consume finally the aeon of the accursed one.
So mote it be!
By stating the basic, “Crowley sacrificed a frog and ate it,” one’s mind jumps to mental imagery of Francisco Goya’s painting of Saturn Devouring His Son. In Crowley’s own words, he provides the instruction to cook the legs, as any self-respecting gourmand would do. Many a hunter have felled a dear, done their own butchery, and reveled in the product of their effort. Is the consumption of the frog seemingly more vile than that of a country housewife beheading and plucking a chicken for a family meal? Crowley’s frog meal is simply preceded with a rather extensive ritual and mystical endowment of the creature to be eaten the same way the Catholic priest empowers the wafer host and wine before communion. The Liturgy of the Eucharist is that part of the Mass in which the Communion Rite takes place; the communal sacrament of the worshiper receiving the Body and Blood of Christ to become one with the Divine Being. For Crowley to be able to solemnify a magickal act with a ritual sacrifice, there is much to be said for having the chosen object of his sacrifice being a mere frog which is more easily caught, kept captive, and dispatched before becoming the meal.
Learning Crowley’s tastes and gastronomic standards, while the rush and adrenaline of the ritual may have precluded him from partaking in a more complicated recipe for frogs legs, I offer a fairly basic one that any self-respecting Edwardian might have eaten, in Paris or at The Savoy:
Cuisses de grenouilles à la persillade
- ½ to 2 lbs frog legs
- 1 tbsp salt
- 1 tbsp pepper
- 1 cup milk
- 1 cup flour
- 3 to 4 garlic cloves, sliced thinly
- 2 to 3 tbsp lemon juice
- 10 tablespoons butter, divided
- 2 to 3 tbsp fresh flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
1. Soak the frogs legs in milk for at least an hour in the refrigerator. This helps tenderize and moisten the meat.
2. In a separate bowl, combine the salt, pepper, and flour.
3. In a large enough frying pan to accommodate all the frogs legs, melt 5 tablespoons of butter.
4. Take the legs from the milk, briefly dredge in flour mixture, shaking off the excess flour, and fry on medium-heat for 3 to 4 minutes per side, until golden brown.
5. Remove from heat and place legs on a warming plate while you finish the sauce.
6. Wipe the pan clean with a paper towel and return to stove, melting the remaining 5 tablespoons butter.
7. When just melted, sauté the garlic for just a minute or so, to flavor the butter. Remove from heat and add lemon juice and parsley.
8. Pour the sauce over the frogs legs and serve.
I recommend a creamy white wine with this dish; a Rhône varietal like Viognier or Roussanne that will complement the hint of lemon in the sauce and not overpower the delicate taste of the frogs legs. A buttery Chardonnay would fight with the butter and a crisp Riesling risks heightening the astringency of the citrus.