No. 1761

Lamb Sweetbreads a la Joinville

Ris d'Agneau a la Joinville

Braise some lambs' sweetbreads as indicated for the financiere (No. 1760). Prepare and pound a border made of forcemeat (No. 79), place it on a dish; lay a croustade made either of bread or paste in the center of the border; place the sweetbreads after they are well glazed around, and fill the croustade with a garnishing composed of quenelles, mushrooms, truffles, and a supreme sauce (No. 547) into which lobster butter (No. 580) has been added. Between every sweetbread lay a slice of tongue cut out to imitate a cocks'-comb and glazed with meat glaze (No. 402) and on the summit of the garnishing place some round chicken quenelles decorated with truffles (No. 154).

← No. 1760 Lamb Sweetbreads a la Financiere Lamb No. 1762 Lamb Sweetbreads a la Sevigne →

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade that already knows the base preparations, so this entry is really an assembly plan: nearly every component sits behind a cross-reference. The work is in the sweetbreads and the sauce; everything else is architecture.

The hinge: soak, blanch, pressLamb sweetbreads must be soaked in several changes of cold water until they run pale, blanched briefly, refreshed, then peeled of membrane and pressed flat under a weighted plate for an hour or more. Skipping the pressing gives you a soft, ragged gland that will not glaze or slice cleanly.
Braising as at No. 1760The cross-referenced financiere method is not given here, but a braise of this type is generally shallow: a bed of aromatics with a little stock, covered, then uncovered at the end while the reduced liquid is basted over the sweetbreads until they take a shine. Lamb sweetbreads are small, so a bare simmer of roughly 20 to 25 minutes should suffice, and the glazing is a matter of minutes of attentive basting, not further cooking.
SourcingLamb sweetbreads are rarely stocked in retail butchery today and usually need ordering. Veal sweetbreads are the common substitute, in which case buy the heart or "noix" portion and allow proportionally longer braising for the larger lobes.
The croustade and forcemeat borderThe border is a piped or moulded ring of poached forcemeat set on the serving dish; the croustade at its centre is a hollowed, fried case of stale crumb or a baked pastry shell. Both are structural, holding the garnish at height on the platter. For plated service the border can be dropped in favour of a single pastry case, or omitted.
Supreme sauce with lobster butterSupreme is a chicken velouté finished with cream and reduction; the lobster butter is a compound butter pounded from shells and roe. Whisk it in off the heat at the last moment — boiling after it goes in dulls the colour and can split the sauce.
Cockscomb tongueReal cocks' combs were a period garnish; here Ranhofer only asks for slices of cured or braised tongue cut with a small cutter into that shape and painted with meat glaze. Cut them cold from a firm, chilled piece so the edges hold.
Meat glazeNo. 402 is glace de viande: brown stock reduced to a syrup that sets firm when cold. A commercial demi-glace reduced further, or a veal stock concentrate, can stand in; brush it on warm and thin.
QuenellesTwo kinds appear — small ones in the garnish and round decorated chicken quenelles on top. Poach them in barely trembling salted water or stock; a rolling boil breaks them. The truffle decoration is set into the surface before poaching.
YieldRanhofer gives none. A pair of lamb sweetbreads per person is a reasonable working allowance for a course of this kind; scale the border and garnish to whatever number you are serving.

A Little History

Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and the book is essentially the working repertoire of that kitchen set down in classical French order. The name à la Joinville is generally traced to François d'Orléans, Prince de Joinville, a son of Louis-Philippe, and in nineteenth-century French practice a Joinville garnish belonged to fish: shrimp or crayfish, mushrooms, truffles, and a cream sauce reddened with shellfish butter. What Ranhofer does here is lift that shellfish-scented sauce onto a meat dish, which was very much the Delmonico manner — a familiar classical name applied with some latitude, and built up into the kind of tall, bordered, glazed centrepiece that an American restaurant kitchen of the 1890s could still put before its customers. Sweetbreads themselves were prestige eating in that period: expensive, delicate, and a reliable signal that a menu meant business.