After nearly 120 years—or is it 150?—people still quibble about the origin of Eggs Benedict: the who, what, when, where, and why. This much is known: Eggs Benedict belongs to 19th–century New York. But who wins bragging rights for creating the dish? Which restaurant was the first to serve it? And who, pray tell, was Benedict? Not Benedict Arnold, as some have implied.

After a century of sleuthing, culinary historians still cannot name with certainty the year, or even decade, Eggs Benedict was created. Some say the early 1860s (unlikely, with the Civil War raging); others say 1894 (more plausible); and at least one respected food writer has inexplicably pushed the date into the 1920s.

Two early, elegant New York restaurants, and in particular their culinary superstars, will forever be associated with Eggs Benedict: Delmonico’s chef du cuisine Charles Ranhofer and the old Waldorf Hotel’s maître d’hôtel Oscar Tschirky. Each has been credited with refining or popularizing Eggs Benedict, if not actually creating it.

Which brings us to three different Benedicts—New Yorkers all, aristocrats all, but not, it seems, kissing kin:

Lemuel Benedict: Profiled by The New Yorker in 1942 as the creator of Eggs Benedict, “Lemmy” was a Wall Street broker by day and dashing man–about–town by night, known for his coonskin coat and hollow cane concealing a booze–filled flask. Early one 1894 morning, after a night of partying, Benedict stumbled into the Waldorf and proceeded to build an open–faced sandwich out of buttered toast, crisply browned bacon, and poached eggs, smothering the lot with hollandaise. Ever attentive, the famous Oscar of the Waldorf quickly refined the combo, substituting English muffins for toast and ham or Canadian bacon for bacon strips. In no time, Eggs Benedict was a Waldorf signature dish, and remains one to this day.

Commodore E. C. Benedict: The claim that this New York banker and yachtsman was the creator of Eggs Benedict surfaced only in 1967—by proxy and posthumously—in a letter to New York Times food editor Craig Claiborne. The letter writer? Edward P. Montgomery, an American expat living in France whose mother’s brother had been a close friend of the commodore. To substantiate his claim, Montgomery sent Claiborne a copy of the commodore’s recipe for Eggs Benedict, which had come down to him through his family. The commodore, it turns out, had died in 1920 at the age of 86.

Mrs. LeGrand Benedict: Claiborne’s 1967 Times column on Commodore Benedict as creator of Eggs Benedict drew fire from Mabel C. Butler of Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts. “The true story,” she wrote, “is well known to the relations of Mrs. LeGrand Benedict” (she herself being one of them). It seems that Mrs. Benedict and her husband were Delmonico’s regulars in the 1890s. Bored with the menu one Saturday, she asked for something different. At this point the maître d’—or perhaps Chef Ranhofer himself—stepped in and asked Mrs. Benedict what she’d like. “Poached eggs on toasted English Muffins with a thin slice of ham, hollandaise sauce, and a truffle on top.” Had she really dreamed this up, or was she, perhaps, remembering something she’d enjoyed at the Waldorf? Who can say?

So what’s fact, and what’s fiction? Does it matter, as long as we have the recipe for Eggs Benedict and can enjoy it as often as we like?

EGGS BENEDICT

A brunch favorite for more than 100 years, Eggs Benedict has been more often ordered in restaurants than whipped up at home—mostly because the four components (English muffins, Canadian bacon, eggs, and hollandaise sauce) are prepared simultaneously. My streamlined version makes it easy for home cooks.

The recipes in this story have not been tested in the Gourmet kitchens.

An award–winning food and travel journalist, Jean Anderson is a member of the James Beard Foundation Cookbook Hall of Fame. Her latest book, Falling off the Bone, was published by Wiley last fall.