The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1665

Breast of Lamb with Veloute Tomato Sauce-Stuffed

Poitrine d'Agneau Farcie a la Sauce Tomate Veloutee

Split open one or several yearling lamb breasts on the rib sides, by slipping the blade of a knife between the bone and the meat so as to make a pocket, season the inside and fill the empty space with forcemeat (No. 65), seasoned highly and to which add a handful of soaked and pressed out bread-crumbs, also some raw onions chopped and parboiled, cooked minced mushrooms and chopped parsley, each of them chopped up separately, and also stir in two whole eggs. Sew up the opening in the breast, cook it in beef stock (No. 194a) and when done properly, which will take about two hours and a half, drain and untie, then serve with a tomato sauce (No. 549) reduced with veloute sauce (No. 415).

For the Modern Kitchen

A braised stuffed breast, written in Ranhofer's shorthand of cross-references. Nothing here is difficult, but the recipe assumes you have a kitchen full of prepared components on hand.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after some three decades as chef of Delmonico's in New York, and this entry shows how the book was meant to be used: almost every element is a number pointing elsewhere in the volume, on the assumption that a brigade already had forcemeat, brown stock, veloute and tomato sauce standing ready. The dish itself is thrift dressed for the dining room. Breast is the cheapest part of the animal, all bone, fat and membrane, and the French classical answer was to bone or pocket it, pack the space with a farce that supplies both flavour and body, and braise it long enough to make the gelatine work in the cook's favour. Serving it under a compound sauce of veloute cut with tomato is very much of its moment; tomato sauce had been absorbed into the French repertoire as a thickened, stock-based preparation by the mid-nineteenth century, though its place among the mother sauces came later, with Escoffier's codification, and blending it into a white sauce to make what later kitchens would call an aurore was a standard way to lend colour to a pale braise.