The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1089

Cutlets of Terrapin and Croquettes, Cream Sauce

Cotelettes de Terrapene et Croquettes Sauce Creme

Have a pound and a half of cooked and boneless terrapin, cut in half inch squares; put these on the fire in a stewpan, seasoning with salt and red pepper; heat well and thicken with egg-yolks, butter, and cream moistened with a little good sherry; let get partially cold and then mold in cutlet-shaped bottomless molds laid on a sheet of heavy buttered paper slightly larger than the mold itself, and set on level baking tins. Fill the molds to the top with terrapin, lay them on ice, and when the preparation is perfectly cold, unmold and dip the cutlets into beaten eggs, roll in bread-crumbs, then fry them in clarified butter; wipe and dress crown-shaped on folded napkins, garnishing the center with fried green parsley. If for croquettes mold the terrapin in timbale molds (No. 2, Fig. 137) and finish the same as the cutlets; serve a cream sauce (No. 545) separately.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

This is a Delmonico's kitchen recipe for a luxury ingredient that no longer belongs on a menu. The technique is a standard croquette method, but the main ingredient is the problem.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after some three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York (in two spells, from 1862), and its terrapin section runs to a series of numbered preparations because terrapin was, for roughly the second half of the nineteenth century, among the most fashionable American luxury foods there was. Diamondback terrapin had begun as cheap Chesapeake protein — it is often said that Maryland indentured servants and enslaved workers complained of being fed too much of it — before East Coast clubs and hotels turned it into a status dish served with Madeira or sherry, priced accordingly, and hunted until the population crashed. This particular entry shows the kitchen doing what luxury kitchens do with an expensive ingredient: stretching it, binding it with egg yolk and cream, molding it into cutlet shapes and crumbing it, so that a pound and a half of picked meat becomes a formal dressed course on a folded napkin. By the 1920s the supply had collapsed, and Prohibition is usually credited with removing the wine that traditionally accompanied it; the terrapin course never came back.