The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1845

Chicken Fillets and Breasts a la Lorenzo

Filets et Ailes de Poulets a la Lorenzo

Raise the breasts with the fillets from six young, one pound and three-quarters to two pound chickens; lift off the skin and epidermis, also the minion fillets; place the breasts on a buttered baking sheet with the minions scored with truffles on top, laying them along the thick edge of the breasts; pour over butter and cover with buttered paper, then cook in a moderate oven; garnish the minions with paper frills (No. 10). Dress crown-shaped and fill the inside with a Lorenzo garnishing made as follows:

Lorenzo Garnishing.—Have espagnole sauce (No. 414) with a few tarragon leaves added, celery cut in one inch pieces, blanched and cooked in broth (194a); blanched olives stoned and filled with quenelle forcemeat (No. 89) containing anchovies, whole chestnuts cooked in broth; artichoke bottoms pared into half hearts, five-sixteenths inch squares of truffles and some large capers. The border for chicken breasts a la Lorenzo, are made oval and in the following manner: Butter a mold (Fig. 139) with butter softened without being melted; decorate the sides either with fanciful cuts of truffles, or tongue, or even both; fill it up with cream forcemeat (No. 75) or quenelle forcemeat (No. 89) and lay this border in a sautoir; pour boiling water around, set it in a slow oven and when poached, meaning when firm to the touch, unmold and dress the breasts on top and the garnishing in the center.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a Delmonico's plated dish in three parts: the poached forcemeat border, the butter-roasted breasts, and the garnish. The hinge is the breasts themselves — small, skinless, and unprotected on a sheet pan, they are done in minutes and dry out the moment they pass it.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and the run of numbered chicken-breast dishes it belongs to — Harrison, Lorenzo, Lucullus — shows how the house worked: one technique, the raised and butter-roasted suprême, dressed a dozen different ways and named after patrons, public figures and the restaurant's own people. The name here is often taken to honor Lorenzo Delmonico, the nephew who became the driving force of the family business from the 1830s onward and built its reputation for French cooking and its famously long wine list, though Ranhofer, as usual, explains nothing. What the recipe really documents is the logic of nineteenth-century grande cuisine: the food is assembled architecturally, with a poached forcemeat plinth, a crown of meat, and a garnish of separately prepared items bound in brown sauce.