No. 1507

Grenadins of Fillet of Veal, Tomatoed Argentine Sauce

Grenadins de Filet de Veau Sauce Tomates Argentine

If fine grenadins are required, they should be cut either from the minion fillet or from the large saddle fillet or from the kernel; in either case beat the meat with a cleaver, having the blade dampened, flatten to three-eighths of an inch in thickness; pare them into half hearts or ovals, all of the same size; season and lard with fat pork. Place these grenadins in a sautoir lined with scraps of fat pork, roots and sliced onions; moisten to half their height with stock (No. 194a), and cook, letting the liquid fall to a glaze several times, and finally finish glazing it in the oven, basting with its own stock. Just when ready to serve, lift them out, drain and lay them on a long dish, one overlapping the other in a single row, and around pour an Argentine tomato sauce (No. 429); sprinkle the meat over with the stock, strained free of fat and well reduced.

← No. 1506 Calves Feet, American Style Veal No. 1508 Minced Fillet of Veal, Portuguese →

For the Modern Kitchen

A braised-and-glazed veal cut from Charles Ranhofer's Delmonico's kitchen, written for cooks who already knew what a grenadin was and had a stockpot going. The technique translates cleanly; the vocabulary and the cross-references need unpacking.

The hinge: glaze, then re-glazeThe dish lives or dies on repeatedly letting the braising liquid reduce to a sticky film and then remoistening, which builds the lacquer. Take the pan to a bare simmer, and finish uncovered in the oven -- the recipe names no temperature -- basting every few minutes until the surface is deep amber.
What the cuts are"Minion fillet" is the veal tenderloin lying under the saddle; the "large saddle fillet" is the loin proper; the "kernel" is the noix, the eye of the leg. Any of the three works, sliced across the grain and flattened to the specified three-eighths of an inch.
Dampened cleaverWetting the blade keeps the meat from tearing as it lifts away. A damp sheet of plastic over the cutlet and the flat of a heavy knife does the same job.
Larding with fat porkGrenadins are traditionally studded with strips of pork fat using a larding needle. Salt pork or unsmoked fatback cut into matchsticks is the closest thing; if you have no needle, drape thin sheets of fatback or unsmoked bacon over the tops instead and remove them for the final glazing.
Sautoir, roots, and pork scrapsA sautoir is a straight-sided shallow pan, not a covered casserole. The scraps of fat pork, sliced carrot, onion and other "roots" are a braising bed, not a garnish; they are strained out with the stock at the end.
Stock No. 194aRanhofer's numbering points to his own stock recipe elsewhere in the book; this page does not say which. Unsalted homemade stock is what the glazing depends on; commercial broths are too salty to reduce this far.
Argentine tomato sauce No. 429Another internal cross-reference, so the sauce is not on this page. A well-reduced tomato sauce, smooth and sharp enough to cut the pork fat, is what the plate needs; use Ranhofer's No. 429 if you have the full book to hand rather than guessing at what "Argentine" specified.
Doneness and yieldBraised veal wants tenderness rather than a thermometer reading; a thin larded grenadin will be tender well before the oven glazing is finished. The recipe specifies neither timing nor yield, so judge the number of grenadins by the size of the fillet.

A Little History

Grenadin is the diminutive of grenade, and the name is generally traced to the small, plump, larded shape of the cut, which nineteenth-century French cooks treated as a miniature fricandeau: a slice of veal studded with pork fat, braised in a little stock, and glazed with its own reduction. The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of some thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry shows the house method in compressed form, with two of its three components handed off to numbered recipes elsewhere in the book. That numbering is the point of the whole volume, which was built as a working kitchen reference for cooks trained in brigade French, not as a book to be read straight through. Garnish and sauce names of this kind, "Argentine" among them, were often coined for particular services or clients and rarely carry a documented origin, so the sauce is best identified from Ranhofer's own No. 429 rather than from the name.