No. 1613

Paupiettes of Fillet of Mutton a la Delussan

Paupiettes de Filets de Mouton a la Delussan

Cut the mutton fillets when well pared in eighth of an inch thick slices lengthways of the meat; flatten down these small bands and season each with salt and pepper; cover one side with chicken forcemeat (No. 62) into which has been added an equal quantity of cooked fine herbs (No. 385); roll them up cylinder-shape and run them on a skewer; pour over some melted butter and broil them over the fire; dress and cover over with a reduced espagnole sauce (No. 414), to which sliced mushrooms have been added; incorporating into it at the last moment some chopped parsley.

← No. 1612 Noisettes of Mutton with Cooked Fine Herbs Mutton No. 1614 Slices of Fillet of Mutton, Maitre-d'Hotel →

For the Modern Kitchen

A skewered mutton roulade from Ranhofer's Epicurean, written for a kitchen that already had forcemeat, cooked fine herbs and espagnole standing ready. The work is in the slicing and the assembly; the cooking is a matter of minutes.

The hinge: thin, even slicesEverything depends on getting bands of meat an eighth of an inch thick cut lengthways along the fillet, then flattened further between plastic sheets. Slices that vary in thickness will not roll tightly and will cook unevenly on the skewer. Firming the fillet in the freezer for 20-30 minutes makes the cut manageable.
Fillet of muttonThis is best read as the boned loin (the eye of the loin, plus the tenderloin) rather than leg meat. Mutton is sheep past its first year, often reckoned at two years or more; in North America you will most likely be working with lamb loin, which is milder and slightly more tender and wants no adjustment beyond a shorter cooking time.
The three cross-referencesNo. 62 is Ranhofer's chicken forcemeat, of the pounded-breast type usually built on a panada with butter. No. 385 is fine herbes cuites, a cooked mince along duxelles lines. No. 414 is espagnole, the classical brown sauce. Any good modern equivalent of each will carry the dish; a well-reduced demi-glace stands in for the espagnole.
Forcemeat proportionEqual quantities of forcemeat and cooked herbs means the filling is half mushroom mixture by volume. Keep the herb mixture dry, cooked until no liquid runs, or the paupiettes will loosen and steam rather than brown.
Broiling over the fireA hot charcoal grill or a preheated overhead broiler at high heat, the skewers about four inches from the element. Small rolls of this size take roughly 8-10 minutes with a turn or two; brush again with melted butter as they cook. The forcemeat contains raw poultry, so take the centre to 165F.
SkewersTwo parallel skewers, or flat skewers, stop the rolls spinning when you turn them. Soak wooden ones; metal conducts heat into the forcemeat, which is an advantage here.
Finishing the sauceReduce the espagnole to a coating consistency before adding sliced mushrooms, and add the chopped parsley at the last moment, as directed -- best done off the heat at the point of serving. Parsley held in a hot sauce turns dull and grassy.
YieldThe original gives none. A single trimmed lamb loin yields about eight to ten bands, enough for two to three as a main course; count on four to five paupiettes per person as a course in a longer meal.

A Little History

Paupiette is the French kitchen's word for a thin slice of meat spread with stuffing and rolled, a technique older than the term and applied indiscriminately to veal, beef, sole and, as here, mutton. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a numbered reference work rather than a book of standalone recipes, which is why this entry is largely a string of cross-references: the forcemeat, the cooked fine herbs and the espagnole were all standing preparations in a brigade kitchen, and the dish is assembled from them in minutes. Garnish names ending in a surname, as a la Delussan does, were the common currency of nineteenth-century restaurant French, often honoring a patron, a colleague or a house specialty; many of them, this one included, have left no trace beyond the menus and manuals that used them. Mutton itself was ordinary market meat in Ranhofer's day and has since all but vanished from American butcher counters, displaced by young lamb.