The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1559

Sweetbreads a la Marsilly

Ris de Veau a la Marsilly

Place in the center of a dish a cut out rice croustade foundation. Choose eight medium-sized throat sweetbreads, blanch and cool them in the press (No. 71), lard them with fine larding pork (No. 3, Fig. 52), and range in the bottom of a narrow saucepan lined with a braise; season and moisten to half their height with beef-stock (No. 194a); let this fall very slowly to a glaze, then remoisten to half their height with more of the same broth, reduce again, and pour a gill of Madeira or Marsala wine over the sweetbreads; allow the liquid to boil up twice before setting the saucepan in a slack oven to finish cooking the sweetbreads while basting and having them attain a nice color. Fry eight small and pared artichoke bottoms; drain and range them dome-shaped with small fresh green peas cooked English style (No. 2742) thickened with a well-buttered bechamel (No. 409). Dress the sweetbreads on the rice foundation with the artichoke bottoms around; send to the table accompanied by a sauce-boat of veloute (No. 415), reduced with the sweetbread stock.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a stockpot always going and a larder of prepared bases, so the cross-references do most of the work. Here is what they stand for and where the dish actually turns.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York across two spells, from 1862 to 1876 and again from 1879 to 1896, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that kitchen's working canon set down at length, with its thousand-odd cross-references standing in for the training a cook would have absorbed at the stove. Sweetbreads were a fixture of the American luxury restaurant menu in this period, and it is tempting to think their very laboriousness was the point: soaking, blanching, pressing, peeling, larding and glazing represent hours of skilled hands, which is arguably what a Delmonico's bill was buying. Ranhofer's garnish names are mostly commemorative rather than descriptive, attached to people, battles and places in the French manner, and Marsilly here follows that convention; unlike Montebello or Maltese, the reference is obscure and no firm attribution should be assumed. What the dish does tell you plainly is the shape of Gilded Age service: a molded starch plinth, larded meat set upon it, a ring of fried artichoke bottoms filled with creamed peas, and the sauce sent separately so it would not spoil the silhouette on its way through the dining room.