The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1593

Mutton Cutlets a la Bouchere

Cotelettes de Mouton a la Bouchere

Have a good fleshy rack of mutton with fine, tender pink meat; suppress the superficial skin covering the fat, and cut five cutlets from each rack; remove the spinal bone and round the tops; they should be thick and pared very little without handles, as they are not garnished with frills; salt over and dip them in melted butter, then roll in fine bread-crumbs. Eight or ten minutes before serving, range them on the broiler all on the same side, and when partially done and a fine color, turn them over to finish the cooking; when they are finished, dress in a circle garnishing the middle with the following: Cut four ounces of gherkins in small fillets like a small Julienne, (No. 318); four ounces of mushrooms, and four ounces of tongue, cut exactly the same as the gherkins; thicken this garnishing with a brown English sauce (No. 1571), finishing with a dash of cayenne pepper.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer's butcher's-style cutlets are a broiled crumbed chop with a sharp julienne garnish in the middle of the ring. Two things decide the result: how the rack is butchered and how hot the broiler is.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's for over thirty years, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that restaurant's working repertoire set down in numbered order. A la bouchere means butcher's style, a name attached in French kitchens to cuts served plainly and thickly — often said to be the way a butcher would keep them for himself — rather than trimmed into decorative handled cotelettes with frills. Ranhofer makes the point explicitly: no frills, pared very little. Mutton, the meat of a sheep over a year old and far more strongly flavored than lamb, was standard eating in nineteenth-century America and appears throughout this section; its near-total disappearance from English-language markets over the twentieth century is why a recipe like this now reads as more exotic than it was. The garnish of gherkin, tongue and mushroom cut to a uniform julienne and bound in a piquant brown sauce is a stock nineteenth-century combination for rich red meat, the acidity doing the work that a squeeze of lemon or a relish does now.