No. 1606

Sheep's Ears a la Westphalian

Oreilles de Mouton a la Westphalienne

Blanch and braise some sheep's ears after having thoroughly cleansed them in a mirepoix stock (No. 419); when cooked put them in a vessel with the stock strained over, and let get cold. Cut out the inside of the ears with a column tube, then reheat them in the braise stock. Dress on a baking dish and fill the interiors with veal quenelle forcemeat (No. 92), to which add chopped truffles and some veloute sauce (No. 415), thickened with egg-yolks; dredge over some bread-crumbs and grated parmesan cheese; sprinkle over a little melted butter and place in the oven to color slightly. Dress them in a circle and fill the center with thin slices of ham fried in butter over a brisk fire; dilute the glaze in the pan with white wine and brown sauce (No. 414), reduce and pour it over the ham; sprinkle chopped parsley over the whole.

← No. 1605 Double Baron or Saddle, Roasted Mutton No. 1607 Epigrammes of Mutton a la Jardiniere →

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with stock pots already going, so most of this recipe is cross-references to other numbers in The Epicurean. Stripped down, it is braised ears, hollowed and stuffed with a bound veal mousseline, gratinated, and served ringed around ham in a wine-and-brown-sauce pan glaze.

Sourcing the earsSheep's ears are a special-order item from a halal or Middle Eastern butcher, or a farm that sells whole heads. They arrive with hair on and must be scalded and scraped or singed clean, then scrubbed in several changes of salted water; the fold behind the ear traps grit.
Blanch, then braise longBlanching means a cold-water start brought to the boil for a few minutes and refreshed, to firm the ear and draw off scum. The braise itself is the hinge: ears are almost entirely cartilage and skin, and they need three to four hours at a bare simmer, covered, until a knife slides through with no resistance. Undercooked, they are rubbery and inedible; there is no shortcut.
Mirepoix stockNo. 419 is Ranhofer's mirepoix-based braising liquor: aromatic vegetables such as carrot, onion and celery with ham or bacon trimmings, moistened with wine and stock. Check his own number for the exact make-up. Any well-made white braising liquor with wine in it does the job.
Cooling in the stockLetting them go cold in the strained liquid is not idleness. The gelatin sets and makes the ears firm enough to cut cleanly with the tube; a warm ear will tear.
"Column tube"A plain round pastry tube or a small round cutter, used to punch a cavity out of the thick part of the ear. Roughly half an inch to three-quarters across, depending on the size of the ear.
The fillingNo. 92 is one of Ranhofer's veal quenelle forcemeats: broadly, lean veal pounded with a panada and butter, sieved and bound with egg. Check his number for the exact make-up. A modern food processor does in two minutes what took a mortar and a tamis. Bind it with the veloute that has been finished off the heat with egg yolks, so the mixture holds when it sets in the oven.
Oven for the gratinOnly colouring is wanted here, since everything is already cooked. Ranhofer gives no temperature or time; a hot oven of around 425F, or a broiler watched closely, will set the forcemeat and brown the crumbs and parmesan without drying the ears.
The ham and the pan sauceWestphalian ham is a dry-cured, juniper-smoked German ham, sold in paper-thin slices and normally eaten raw. Sliced thin and hit with a brisk fire it curls and crisps in seconds. Deglaze with white wine, add a spoonful of brown sauce or a good demi-glace, reduce to a glaze and pour it over.
YieldRanhofer gives none. Figure two ears per person as a small course; eight to ten ears will serve four or five as an appetiser, which is how a dish of this richness belongs on a menu.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after some thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and it is a working record of high French service at an American restaurant that expected to be able to cook anything. The mutton section runs from a roasted double saddle down through the extremities, and this dish sits at the frugal end of that scale, though the frugality is nominal once truffles, veal forcemeat and Westphalian ham are involved. Ears, feet and muzzle were standard fare in nineteenth-century French kitchens precisely because their cartilage turns silky under long braising and takes a stuffing well. The "à la Westphalienne" tag is a garnish name, as most such tags are: it signals the presence of Westphalian ham, the juniper-smoked ham that was a luxury import in American kitchens of the period and a shorthand for a certain kind of continental polish.