The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1466

Tenderloin of Beef with Vegetables—Whole

Filet de Boeuf aux Legumes--Entier

Prepare and cook the tenderloin exactly as for a la Bienvenue (No. 1445); after having it pared and glazed, set it on a small rice foundation, garnishing it around with the following vegetables arranged in separate groups in order to vary their different colors. This dish can be decorated with pear-shaped carrots, small clusters of cauliflower, turnips cut into balls, artichoke bottoms garnished with Brussels sprouts, small glazed onions or any other vegetable in season, being careful to suppress any kind that will be served at the same dinner, and which has intentionally been avoided in this, such as asparagus tops, for there is seldom a dinner when this vegetable is not served in some way or the other, either as cream soup, or plain boiled. Also green peas, string beans and flageolets, these all being generally used as vegetables served with the entrees. Mushrooms are also employed largely for garnishing, and boiled potatoes are invariably served with fish. Send a sauce-boat of half-glaze sauce (No. 413) to the table, the same time as the tenderloin.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a plating formula more than a cooking method: the beef is cooked elsewhere (No. 1445), and what Ranhofer sets out here is how to dress a whole tenderloin for a table where a dozen other dishes are already in play. The hinge is the rule buried in the middle of the paragraph — choose the garnish by what the rest of the menu does not contain.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York and published The Epicurean in 1894 as a complete working system rather than a book of favorites, which is why so many entries, like this one, are variations keyed by number to a parent recipe. The whole glazed tenderloin ringed with separately cooked vegetables in tidy groups is classical grand-platter presentation at its most confident: the platter goes to the table as a composed object, and its value lies as much in the contrast of colors as in the eating. The instruction to suppress any vegetable appearing elsewhere in the meal is the most telling line on the page, from times of many courses planned as a whole, in which asparagus was common enough that Ranhofer treats its possible presence somewhere on the menu as worth guarding against, and it reminds the reader that boiled potatoes belonged with fish and were not to wander onto the beef.