The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1506

Calves Feet, American Style

Pieds de Veau a l'Americaine

Dry and singe six calves' feet; split them in two to suppress the middle bone, return them to their original shape, and tie them together, then parboil for ten minutes; remove, drain, and put them back into a saucepan with water, salt, carrots, and onions, a bunch of parsley garnished with thyme and bay leaf, whole peppers, and cloves; let this cook on a moderate fire for one hour and a half. Fry in some lard, a few celery roots, onions, and ham cut in dice; moisten with the above stock and white wine, add to it the feet, and when well cooked, which will take about three hours, drain and bone them; season over with salt, mignonette, and nutmeg, and place them under a weight; when cold, pare, besprinkle with finely chopped parsley and shallots, then dip them in eggs, then in bread-crumbs and fry over a slow fire for fifteen minutes, basting them with melted butter. Dress and serve with a separate sauce-boat of espagnole sauce (No.414) and veloute sauce (No.415), half of each, seasoned with curry, and thickened with egg-yolks.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer's method is a three-stage project spread over two days: a long braise, an overnight press, then a crumbed fry. Nothing in it is difficult, but the sequence has to be respected or the boned feet will not hold together.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York. The technique here is thoroughly French and thoroughly nineteenth-century: braise a gelatinous cut, bone it, press it into a terrine, then slice, crumb and fry the cold block. The same logic produces tete de veau preparations and the various pieds de porc Sainte-Menehould, and it exists because calf's foot was cheap and rich in the collagen that makes the pressed slices firm enough to handle. Feet, ears and heads occupy several pages of Ranhofer's veal section, a reminder that a luxury restaurant of the period was expected to do something impressive with every part of the animal, not merely the loin.