The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1853

Chicken Fillets or Breasts a la Sadi-Carnot

Filets ou Ailes de Poulet a la Sadi-Carnot

To be made with twelve breasts. Fry a chopped shallot in butter keeping it quite colorless and add to it two tablespoonfuls of finely minced truffles, three tablespoonfuls of minced fresh mushrooms and a teaspoonful of chopped parsley; fry the whole for a few moments on the fire, then add a little chicken glaze (No. 398), season and let get partially cold before stirring in three raw egg-yolks. Remove the skin and epidermis from the breasts and cut five gashes on the top of the minion fillets; introduce in each gash a thin round of truffle half an inch in diameter form the fillets into rings and lay them in a buttered sautoir, filling their interiors with quenelle forcemeat (No. 89) and on top of this set a five-eighths of an inch round of truffle. Split the large fillets through their sides and fill them with the above preparation, then range them in a sautoir with clarified butter and lemon juice; saute, drain, garnish with favor frills (No. 10) and dress in a circle on half heart-shaped croutons of bread-crumbs fried in butter, cover with a tomato sauce (No. 549) and Bearnaise sauce (No. 433), mixed and garnish around the large fillets with the minion fillets, glazing the slices of truffles with meat glaze.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a stockpot already going and a truffle drawer at hand; the dish is really three preparations assembled at the last minute. Read it as a plated composition and it becomes manageable.

A Little History

Sadi Carnot was President of the French Republic from 1887 until he was assassinated at Lyon in June 1894, and Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean was published in that same year, when Ranhofer was chef at Delmonico's in New York. Naming garnishes after heads of state, ambassadors and visiting celebrities was standard practice in the grand restaurant kitchen. The construction itself is pure late-nineteenth-century service a la russe -- boneless fillets stuffed with duxelles, ringed tenderloins piped with forcemeat, truffle studs, fried croutons and two sauces blended at the last moment -- food designed to arrive at the table already carved, arranged and unmistakably the work of a professional brigade rather than a household cook.