The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1839

Chicken Fillets or Breasts a l'Ecarlate

Filets ou Ailes de Poulet a l'Ecarlate

Take the fillets from six medium chickens, remove all the skin and epidermis, detach the minion fillets and free them of the sinew and skin which covers them, streak them with pieces of beef tongue and form into rings and place in a buttered sautoir. Saute the large fillets over a brisk fire with butter. Cut twelve slices of very red beef tongue into half hearts the size of the fillets and three-sixteenths of an inch thick; warm them in stock (No. 194a) and just when ready to serve, drain and decorate each fillet with a favor frill (No. 10), dress in a circle having them intercalated with the half-hearts of tongue. Poach the minion fillet rings, fill the inside of the circle with a garnishing composed of small mushroom heads, truffle balls and quenelles all mixed with veloute sauce (No. 415), reduced with cream, and range the minion fillets around the whole; serve a well buttered veloute sauce separately.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a larder full of cross-references; stripped of those, this is a dish of sautéed chicken suprêmes plated in a ring with cured tongue, with the tenders poached separately as garnish. Everything hinges on the tongue being genuinely scarlet, since that colour is the whole point of the name.

A Little History

À l'écarlate — "in scarlet" — is an old French kitchen term for meat, and above all beef tongue, cured with salt and saltpetre until it takes on a bright red colour; boeuf à l'écarlate appears in French cookery writing well before Ranhofer, and by the nineteenth century the phrase on a menu essentially promised the presence of that vivid pink-red tongue against something pale. This recipe comes from The Epicurean (1894), Charles Ranhofer's enormous record of his years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, a book organised less as a manual than as a numbered system in which almost every preparation refers to another. The chicken chapter alone runs to dozens of suprême variations distinguished chiefly by their garnish and plating, which tells you what a fashionable American restaurant kitchen of the period actually sold: not new flavours so much as new arrangements, built from a fixed repertoire of velouté, quenelles, truffle and mushroom, and priced by the labour that went into the assembly.