The regional table / South Carolina
She-Crab Soup, Carrying One Teaspoon of Flour
The whole thickening in the Charleston recipe is one teaspoon of flour for six servings, and the rest of the body comes from what is inside the crab.
The oldest printed version most people can actually read sits on page two of 200 Years of Charleston Cooking, 1930, recipes gathered by Blanche S. Rhett and edited by Lettie Gay. The heading over it says only Crab Soup, though the first line of the ingredients reads one dozen she crabs, and the page underneath says the soup belongs especially to the Rhett family, that it has been served for presidents and princes, and that it is prepared always now by Mrs. Rhett's able butler, William Deas, who is one of the great cooks of the world. The recipe is signed, in the book's own words, William's Recipe. The man at the stove is named in 1930; the South Carolina Encyclopedia entry that tells the story of President Taft eating this soup at Mayor R. Goodwyn Rhett's house in 1909 names no cook at all.
The same page explains the economics of the dish in one sentence: the crabman charges ten cents a dozen extra for she crabs with the eggs in, because the eggs are picked out and go into the pot with the meat, where they give what the book calls a delicious, glutinous quality. That is the thickening. The printed recipe uses two cups of milk, a quarter cup of cream and exactly one teaspoon of flour, and the book adds, fairly, that it is impossible to get she crab except in the laying season, and that tested in the New York Herald-Tribune Institute the soup was just as good made with any hard shell crab — only a little flavor of association would be lost.
Why this version works
Rice instead of roux. The South Carolina Encyclopedia describes the Charleston form of this soup as a Scottish crab bisque localized with boiled long-grain rice and the roe of blue crabs. A third of a cup of cooked rice blended into the milk gives the same coating body a flour thickening gives, without the raw-paste taste that Charleston cooks complain about loudest.
The milk never boils. Crab meat is already cooked and milk proteins curdle against acid and heat. Everything here is held just under a simmer, where the soup stays smooth and the crab stays in pieces instead of shredding into fibres.
Sherry goes in off the heat. Boiled sherry is cooking wine and tastes like it. Added after the pot comes off the burner, a dry amontillado keeps its nuttiness and does the job the printed tablespoon was doing in 1930.
Sieved yolk stands in for roe. Crab roe is a laying-season item and most fishmongers have never had it. Two hard-boiled yolks pushed through a sieve put back the fat, the faint mineral flavour and the orange fleck the eggs were there for, which is why the workaround has outlived the shortage.