The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1589

Carbonade a la Juvigny

Carbonade a la Juvigny

The piece from the end of the last chop to the beginning of the leg is called carbonade. The bones are first extracted from the loin and it is then pared on all its length and width and larded with medium lardons (No. 3, Fig. 52), season, roll and tie it up into an oblong square (Fig. 335). Line the bottom of a saucepan or braziere with slices of fat pork, slices of veal, carrots, onions, bay leaf and thyme; lay the carbonade over, set a heavy buttered paper on top and pour in a quart of stock (No. 194a); let simmer for two hours and a half. Fifteen minutes before serving time, glaze the carbonade letting it become a fine color, dress it and garnish around with small pear-shaped carrots cooked in broth (No. 194a), small blanched onions cooked the same, small turnip balls blanched and browned in the pan with a little sugar and finished cooking in broth, and celery knobs the size of a clove of garlic, blanched and cooked likewise in broth. All these vegetables should be only sufficiently moistened so that when they are done the liquid is reduced to a glaze; strain the meat stock, remove its fat and finish by reducing it to the consistency of a half-glaze and add Juvigny sauce (No. 485).

For the Modern Kitchen

A braised, larded loin of mutton with a glazed root-vegetable garnish. The method is sound; most of what needs translating is butchery vocabulary and the assumption that you have a stockpot and a sauce list to hand.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) records the kitchen of Delmonico's in New York, and this entry is a good example of how much of that kitchen was straightforwardly French. Carbonade is generally traced to Italian carbonata by way of French, in the sense of meat grilled over coals; by the nineteenth century French usage had drifted, and Ranhofer applies it not to a cooking method at all but to a specific cut of the sheep, which he takes the trouble to define. The dish belongs to the older service where a large braised joint arrives glazed and ringed with separately cooked vegetables, each turned to a uniform shape -- pear-shaped carrots, turned turnip balls, celeriac cut to the size of a garlic clove. That labour was possible because a restaurant of Delmonico's rank employed a large brigade. Mutton, then common on both English and American tables and now largely displaced by lamb, was well suited to this treatment: older, leaner, stronger-flavoured meat rewards larding and long moist heat in a way that young lamb does not require.