No. 1418

Noisettes of Tenderloin of Beef in Surprise

Noisettes de Filet de Boeuf en Surprise

Fry in butter without browning, a finely chopped, blanched shallot; add to it half a pint of tomato sauce (No. 549), and a pint and a half of espagnole sauce (No. 414). Boil and skim well, then add half a pound of chopped mushrooms, a quarter of a pound of chopped truffles, two ounces of chopped ham and some raw chopped fine herbs. Season properly, let get cold, and then prepare eighteen noisettes plain as for No. 1410. Make an incision on the side of each, fill these with the cold preparation, season, and dip the pieces in beaten eggs, then roll in bread-crumbs, and fry them in clarified butter. Remove from the fire, set them on a plate, glaze, and dish them over a tomato sauce (No. 549), having some meat glaze (No. 402) added.

← No. 1417 Noisettes of Tenderloin of Beef a la Rossini Beef No. 1419 Noisettes of Tenderloin of Beef, Triumvir →

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a stocked sauce station, so half the work here lives in other numbered recipes. The dish itself is straightforward once the filling is made: a thick, cold mushroom-truffle stuffing hidden inside a breaded medallion.

What a noisette isA round medallion cut from the tenderloin, trimmed clean of fat and silverskin. Ranhofer gives no dimensions here, referring back to No. 1410 for the plain noisettes; eighteen small medallions would take on the order of three to four pounds of trimmed tenderloin.
The filling must be cold and stiffThis is the hinge. The sauce mixture has to be reduced far enough that it sets firm when chilled, otherwise it runs out of the incision the moment the meat hits the butter. Spread it in a shallow pan, chill thoroughly, and treat it as a paste, not a sauce.
Two pints of sauce is a station batchHalf a pint of tomato sauce plus a pint and a half of espagnole, reduced with the mushrooms, truffles and ham, yields far more filling than eighteen noisettes need. Scale to about a third unless you want the remainder for other uses.
Espagnole and tomato sauceEspagnole (No. 414) is the brown mother sauce: brown roux, brown stock, mirepoix, tomato, simmered and skimmed for hours. A good reduced demi-glace or a well-made brown stock reduction stands in. The tomato sauce of No. 549 would be a cooked sauce rather than a raw purée.
Fine herbsFines herbes here means chopped parsley with chervil, tarragon and chives; added raw at the end so they keep their perfume. Parsley and tarragon alone are acceptable.
TrufflesA quarter pound of chopped truffle was ordinary at Delmonico's and is now a serious expense. Preserved truffle peelings, or a larger proportion of mushrooms with a little truffle for scent, keeps the dish recognisable.
Cutting the pocketWork a small sharp knife into the side of each medallion and open a cavity without piercing the top, bottom or far edge. Press the opening closed after filling; the egg wash and crumb coat seal it.
Clarified butter and heatClarified butter is used because whole butter would burn at frying temperature. The book gives no temperature or timing; keep the butter at a steady medium heat so the crumbs colour in the time the beef needs, and expect a short fry, as the coating will not survive a long cook.
Glazing and dishingTo glaze is to brush the fried noisettes with meat glaze (No. 402, stock reduced to a syrup) for gloss. Sauce goes under the meat, not over, so the crust stays crisp.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) records the repertoire he cooked at Delmonico's in New York across some thirty years, and it is organised like a professional's notebook: nearly every recipe points to another by number, so that the espagnole, the tomato sauce and the meat glaze are all made once and drawn on repeatedly. En surprise is a standard nineteenth-century menu term for a dish with something concealed inside, revealed only when the diner cuts in, and it turns up on ices and pastries as often as on meat. The filling itself is essentially a duxelles enriched into a stuffing with brown sauce, ham and truffle, in the manner traditionally, though not securely, traced to the Marquis d'Uxelles's cook, La Varenne. The book's long run of tenderloin noisettes -- à la Rossini, Triumvir, and others -- shows how a restaurant kitchen of the period made variety: one cut, one cooking method, and a long catalogue of garnishes and sauces to hang a name on.