No. 1554

Sweetbreads a la Conti

Ris de Veau a la Conti

Soak well and blanch six medium sized sweetbreads; stud them each in seven places with truffles and wrap them up in a thin slice of fat pork, tie it on securely, then lay them in a sautoir lined with more slices of pork, minced carrots and onions, and a garnished bunch of parsley. Moisten with one pint of beef-stock (No. 194a), let it fall to a glaze, and then add a quart more stock; continue the cooking for half an hour longer. Reduce the stock and glaze the sweetbreads, then dress in the center of the dish, and lay around them in clusters or else in the center some cocks'-combs, kidneys, and mushrooms. Pour over the garnishing a well buttered veloute sauce (No. 415), and serve in a sauce-boat some of the same reduced with the stock passed through a tammy, and finish with a piece of butter. Have a trussed and glazed crawfish on top of each sweetbread. Serve separately a sauce-boat of veloute sauce reduced with the braise stock strained through a sieve and incorporate in a piece of fresh butter just when ready to serve.

← No. 1553 Sweetbreads a la Columbus Veal No. 1555 Sweetbreads a l'Ecarlate →

For the Modern Kitchen

A Delmonico's braise built in layers: sweetbreads studded with truffle, wrapped in pork fat, braised in stock reduced twice, then dressed with a garnish of cockscombs and crayfish. The hinge is the sweetbreads themselves — soaked, blanched, and pressed before they ever meet the truffle.

Soak and blanch properlyVeal sweetbreads need several hours in cold water, changed often, until no pink remains, then a bare simmer of 5 to 10 minutes and a plunge into ice water. Peel the membrane; pressing between two plates under a weight for an hour is the usual next step, though the recipe itself does not call for it.
QuantitySix medium sweetbreads suggests a service of about six. Weights vary, but a veal sweetbread of this size may run somewhere near three-quarters of a pound before trimming.
Studding with trufflesCut batons of black truffle and insert them into slits made with a small knife, seven per sweetbread as written. Canned or jarred winter truffle works; the point is aromatic penetration during the braise, not surface decoration.
Fat porkThis means unsmoked fatback or barding fat, not bacon. A thin sheet of barding fat tied on with kitchen twine keeps the sweetbread from drying and gives the braise its body. Blanched salt pork will do if you cannot get fatback; smoked bacon will dominate.
SautoirA straight-sided saute pan or a shallow braiser wide enough to hold all six in one layer without crowding. The recipe does not specify stovetop or oven; keep the heat gentle either way.
"Let it fall to a glaze"The first pint of stock is reduced almost to nothing, until it films the pan and the vegetables begin to catch — this builds the glaze that flavours everything after. Then the quart goes in and the cooking continues about 30 minutes at a bare simmer.
TammyA tammy was a woven worsted straining cloth, wrung between two people. Strain through a fine chinois lined with a double layer of damp cheesecloth; the butter goes in off the heat at the last moment so the sauce does not break.
The garnishCockscombs and cock kidneys are not sold in modern markets and were laborious even in 1894 — blanched, peeled, and simmered in a white braise. Small braised mushroom caps alone make an honest garnish, or add glazed pearl onions for the cluster effect.
Crayfish on top"Trussed" means the cooked crayfish has its tail curled back and pinned so it stands upright. Whole cooked crayfish, briefly warmed and brushed with butter, sit on each sweetbread as a crown. Large shrimp in the shell read similarly if crayfish are out of season.

A Little History

This is from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the enormous record of his thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and it shows the kitchen at full stretch: one dish drawing on a truffle larder, a stockpot, a veloute, live crayfish, and the poultry trimmings — combs and cock kidneys — that only a house butchering birds daily would have on hand. Garnishes and purees a la Conti in nineteenth-century French cookery are generally traced to the princely house of Conti, a branch of the Bourbons, and the name attached itself to a number of unrelated preparations; the lentil puree called Conti is the best-known survivor. Sweetbreads were among the most prized items on an American luxury menu of the period, valued for their delicacy and their willingness to absorb a braising liquid, and Ranhofer gives dozens of versions of them in the veal chapter alone. The crayfish standing on each portion is pure table theatre of the sort expected when a dish was carried whole into the dining room and served from the platter.