The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1759

Stewed Lamb with Turnips

Ragout d'Agneau aux Navets

To be made with two pounds of shoulder and one pound of breast of lamb. Cut up into one and three-quarters to two inch pieces, the best part of a shoulder and breast, having two-thirds of the shoulder to one-third of the breast. Heat some lard in a saucepan, put in the meat and brown while stirring, season with salt and a pinch of sugar, and when of a nice reddish brown, dredge over a spoonful of flour, five minutes later, drain off the fat and moisten to a little more than the heighth of the meat with broth (No. 194a), adding a bunch of parsley garnished with thyme and bay leaf and a few grains of pepper. Boil together for five minutes, then withdraw the saucepan to a slower fire in order to cook the lamb without reducing the liquid too rapidly; pour in at intervals a few spoonfuls of broth and when the meat is three-quarters done, mix into the stew a garnishing of turnips shaped into balls or else quartered, browned in a pan with butter. Finish to cook the turnips in the stew. Just when ready to serve rub a piece of garlic on an iron spoon and let it steep in the stew for a few moments, dress the meat on to a dish, garnish around with the turnips and pour the strained sauce over.

For the Modern Kitchen

A straightforward braise built on two rules Ranhofer takes for granted: brown the meat hard before any liquid goes in, and keep the pot at a bare simmer afterward so the sauce does not reduce to glue before the meat is tender.

A Little History

Ragoût d'agneau aux navets is standard French bourgeois cooking, and its logic is seasonal: young turnips and spring lamb arrive together, and the turnip's slight bitterness and sugar cut the fat of shoulder and breast. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a comprehensive reference rather than a book of favorites, which is why entries like this one are terse and lean on numbered cross-references to stocks and garnishes elsewhere in the volume. The final touch — garlic wiped on a hot spoon and swirled through the sauce — belongs to cook's lore rather than any documented rule, though it is often said to express the idea that garlic should be sensed and not tasted.