No. 1818

Pork Tenderloins with Puree of Celery—Breaded

Filets de Porc Panes a la Puree de Celeri

Pare some pork tenderloins suppressing all fat and sinews, then cut them into lengthwise bias slices and trim into half hearts; season each piece with salt, dip into melted butter and roll in white bread-crumbs; broil over a bright fire and when done dress them over a puree of celery (No. 711).

← No. 1817 Tenderloins of Pork, Roasted, Broiled or Sau Pork No. 1819 Pigs' Tongues, Provencal Style →

For the Modern Kitchen

A plain broiled cutlet from Ranhofer's The Epicurean, where the interest lies entirely in the cut, the crumb and the purée it sits on. Two details carry the dish: slicing the tenderloin thin enough on the bias that it cooks through before the crumbs scorch, and not overcooking it.

Cutting on the biasTrim the silverskin, then slice the tenderloin at a sharp diagonal into pieces about half an inch thick, so each cut is broad rather than thick. Flatten lightly between plastic if uneven; "half hearts" means trimming each slice to a rounded half-heart shape, a decorative trimming convention rather than anything the cooking requires.
Butter in place of eggThere is no egg wash here. Melted butter alone holds the crumbs, which gives a lighter, patchier coat that browns fast and sheds more easily — press the crumbs on firmly and let the pieces sit ten minutes before cooking.
White bread-crumbsThe recipe specifies only "white bread-crumbs"; these are usually taken to be fresh crumbs from the crumb of a white loaf, crustless, rubbed through a sieve or coarse grater. Not panko, and not dry commercial crumbs, which will taste toasted before the pork is done.
"A bright fire"A clear charcoal fire with no flame and no smoke. Under a domestic broiler set the rack about four inches from the element, or use a grill pan over medium-high heat; buttered crumbs will burn under a full-blast broiler set close.
DonenessThin bias slices need roughly three minutes a side. Modern practice takes whole-muscle pork to 145F with a three-minute rest, leaving it faintly pink — the nineteenth-century instinct to cook pork grey will turn tenderloin dry and stringy.
The celery puréeThe dish points to Ranhofer's No. 711 for the purée; a celery purée of this kind is generally celery stewed soft, sieved, and bound with a little cream and butter or a white sauce until it will hold a spoon. Celeriac gives the same effect with less stringiness; either way it should be thick enough to sit on the plate rather than run under the meat.
SeasoningOnly salt is called for, on the meat before the butter. Season the purée separately and generously — the crumb coat contributes nothing but texture.
YieldOne trimmed tenderloin of about a pound yields eight to ten slices, serving three or four as a main course with the purée.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York for over thirty years, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially the restaurant's working repertory set down in numbered order, each dish cross-referenced to the sauces and garnishes it depends on — hence the bare pointer to No. 711 rather than a written-out purée. Pork appears sparingly in the book compared with beef, veal and game, and when it does it is generally dressed up in the manner of a veal cutlet, as here: trimmed to a decorative shape, crumbed, broiled, and set on a vegetable purée in the French style. The half-heart cut is pure service-kitchen thinking, a way of making a modest cut look composed on the plate. Celery was a fashionable American vegetable in the period, sold in tall glass vases at table as a raw appetizer, and its cooked purée was a standard accompaniment in restaurant cooking of the 1880s and 1890s.