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Braised Saddle of Mutton
Remove the kidneys from a saddle of mutton, cut off the skin covering the fat of both fillets and cut off the flaps or skirts and roll them up underneath. Place some slices of fat bacon in a braising pan, tie the meat around with twine, lay it in the pan and add an onion and a carrot cut in slices; season with salt, pour in a pint of broth and reduce over a clear fire; then pour in water to half its height and braise slowly. When nearly done remove and drain out the meat, pass the liquor through a conical sieve, skim off the fat and add a little white wine. Put the fat with the mutton into a saucepan and finish the cooking in a slow oven, basting frequently and letting it get a good brown. When done place it on a dish and garnish with mashed vegetables, and serve with the strained liquor in a sauceboat.
A hotel-scale roast written for cooks who already knew what a saddle looks like and how long meat takes. The instructions assume a braising pan on an open range and a second, slower finish in the oven; both stages are easy to reproduce, but almost every quantity and time has to be supplied by the cook.
- What a saddle isThe whole loin section of both sides, undivided, from the last rib to the hip — typically 8-12 lb bone-in and enough for 8 to 12 people. It must be ordered from a butcher; it is not a supermarket cut. The kidneys sit in suet inside the saddle and are removed first, as directed.
- Mutton versus lambMutton is sheep over roughly two years old: darker, firmer, and strongly flavoured. Nearly all American lamb sold now is under a year and will cook considerably faster and taste much milder. Hogget or an imported mutton saddle is the closer match if you can get it.
- Flaps and skirtsThe thin belly flaps are folded under and tied so the joint holds a compact shape. Butcher's twine at 1½-inch intervals is the practical way to do this; without it the saddle spreads and cooks unevenly.
- "Reduce over a clear fire"A clear fire is one burned down past smoke to steady heat; a burner on medium-high is the nearest equivalent. The pint of broth is boiled down — the recipe does not say how far, though a heavy reduction around the bacon and vegetables is the usual reading — before water is added.
- Oven temperatureThe recipe's "slow oven" is usually read as somewhere in the 275-325F range; period sources are not consistent. The recipe gives no times at all, so the braise and the final uncovered browning both have to be judged by eye and by the size of the joint.
- DonenessThe recipe gives no test. A loin taken to about 145-150F at the thickest part and rested would be a modern roasting target, but note that this method — slow braise, then a further browning in the oven — carries the meat well beyond that, and the eye of the loin will dry accordingly.
- Conical sieveA chinois. A fine-mesh strainer works; press nothing through, since the point is a clear liquor. Skim the fat after straining, and reserve some of it — the recipe reuses it for basting in the oven.
- "Mashed vegetables"The recipe says no more than that. Separate purees — turnip, carrot, celeriac, potato — spooned in mounds around the joint would fit period garnishing practice better than a single mixed mash, though the text does not specify.
Oscar Tschirky ran the dining rooms of the Waldorf from its 1893 opening, and the cookbook published under his name in 1896 records the kitchen's repertoire at a moment when American grand-hotel cooking was French in method and largely English in its big roasts. A saddle of mutton was the ceremonial joint of the Victorian table on both sides of the Atlantic: carved lengthwise in long slices parallel to the backbone, served from a heated silver dish, and expensive enough to signal the occasion. The braise-then-roast treatment here is French technique applied to that English cut — the meat is cooked through in bacon fat and aromatics, the cooking liquor strained and sharpened with white wine for a sauceboat, and the joint returned to a slow oven only to take colour. Mutton itself has since all but disappeared from American butchers, squeezed out by the wool trade's decline and a national preference for young lamb, which is why a dish that needed no explanation in 1896 now requires a special order.