The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1651

Shoulder of Mutton, Marinated with Cream Sauce

Epaule de Mouton Marinee Sauce a la Creme

Bone the shoulder as far as half way down the shank bone; lard the inside of the meat with small lardons (No. 2, Fig. 52), seasoned with salt and pepper, then set it into a vessel and pour over a cooked and cold marinade (No. 114), leaving it in for twelve hours. Line a saucepan with bards of fat pork and sliced carrots and onions; roll and tie the shoulder and lay it on top; moisten with a pint of stock (No. 194a), and when reduced to a glaze, remoisten and cook the meat to a fine color in the oven for three hours and a half; remove the shoulder skim the fat from the stock, add one pint of cream to the stock, and let simmer for a few minutes; strain through a sieve and reduce to the consistency of a good sauce, adding to it a very little breadcrumbs; serve this at the same time as the shoulder.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a numbered reference book at hand; stripped of its cross-references this is a larded, marinated, cream-finished braise of shoulder. The hinge is the two-stage moistening: the first pint of stock must be cooked down to a sticky glaze before you add more, or the meat never takes its color and the sauce stays thin.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and it reads like a working system rather than a book of dishes: almost every recipe points to a numbered stock, garnish or marinade elsewhere in the volume. Marinating mutton in cooked wine and vinegar was a standard French treatment, often described as preparing it en chevreuil — in the manner of venison — since the acid and spice pushed strong old sheep toward the flavor of game, which was more fashionable and more expensive. The shoulder was the cheap end of the animal, awkward to carve and full of connective tissue, and boning, rolling and braising it was the classic way to turn it into something that could be sent to a dining room. The cream finish, thickened with a pinch of breadcrumbs rather than roux, belongs to the same period habit of building sauces out of the braising liquid itself.