The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1546

Shoulder of Veal a la Bourguignotte

Epaule de Veau a la Bourguignotte

Bone the shoulder by splitting it on the side of the plate as far down as the handle without injuring the skin; when the bones are all removed, cut away all the sinews and fat; equalize the thickness of the meat; season it with salt and spices, and spread over it a layer of farce prepared with one pound of chopped veal, and one pound of fat pork, seasoned with salt, pepper, allspice, and bits of garlic. Roll it to an even thickness, tie it with ten rows of string making a separate knot at each turn, then wrap it up in several sheets of buttered paper, tie this well and roast the meat either in the oven or on a cradle spit. Unwrap it twenty minutes before serving to let attain a fine color; dress and garnish around with stuffed mushrooms (No. 650), serving with a sauce-boat of brown sauce (No. 414), and tarragon into which squeeze the juice of four lemons.

For the Modern Kitchen

A boned, stuffed, rolled shoulder of veal — a galantine treated as a roast. The whole thing hinges on the boning: the skin must stay unbroken so the roll holds its shape and the forcemeat stays inside.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after some three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and the book reads as a working kitchen's complete reference: some three and a half thousand numbered preparations that cross-reference one another, as this one does. "À la bourguignotte" is not the Burgundian garnish of onions and lardons that à la bourguignonne implies; a bourguignotte was a helmet, and the name has sometimes been explained as a nod to the shape of the tied, wrapped joint rather than to any regional cooking, though the dish name itself is poorly documented. Boning a shoulder and reconstructing it around forcemeat was standard high-kitchen practice of the period — it turned an awkward, sinewy, cheap cut into something that could be carved in neat rounds at a banquet table, and it let a chef stretch one shoulder across a dozen covers. Veal itself was far more central to nineteenth-century American restaurant cooking than it is now, and Ranhofer devotes dozens of numbers to it.# The buttered-paper wrap was one of several ways to keep a long-roasting joint from drying before the age of reliable oven thermostats, alongside barding and basting.