No. 1949

Geese Giblets with Turnips

Abatis d'Oie aux Navets

Put half a pound of unsalted bacon into a saucepan with a little butter and let fry for a few moments, then add the giblets prepared as for No. 1927 and the seasoning, also two dozen small onions and four dozen turnips cut the size and shape of large Spanish olives, having previously fried them in butter with a pinch of sugar. Drain them and add them to the stew with a bunch of parsley garnished with thyme and bay leaf, and pour in some espagnole sauce (No. 414) and stock (No. 194a), boil, skim and simmer for half an hour; season to taste with salt and pepper. When the giblets are cooked, remove the parsley and serve the meat in the center of a dish with the vegetables around and the sauce poured over the whole.

← No. 1948 Goose, German Style—Roasted Other Poultry No. 1950 Goose Stuffed with Chestnuts and with Sausag →

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer wrote for a brigade kitchen with stockpots and sauce bases already standing, so this entry is mostly assembly. The two things it assumes are a cross-reference for the giblets and a finished espagnole; both need substitutes at home.

What the giblets areGoose abatis generally means the neck, gizzard, heart, wing tips and feet, cut up, not the packet of liver from a supermarket bird; the exact preparation is at No. 1927, which is not given here. Neck and gizzard are the substance of the dish; if you have only a few sets, supplement with chicken gizzards and hearts.
The liver goes in lastIf you include liver, add it in the final ten minutes. Half an hour of simmering in sauce turns it grainy and muddies the gravy.
Half an hour is not enoughGizzards and necks need roughly 1.5 to 2 hours of gentle simmering to become tender. Ranhofer's thirty minutes follows on from whatever cooking No. 1927 involves, and he then says simply 'when the giblets are cooked' — so treat the half hour as a minimum, not a total.
Espagnole, without making espagnoleSauce No. 414 is a brown roux sauce built on brown stock and reduced at length. About 2 cups of good dark chicken or veal stock, thickened with a brown roux of 2 tablespoons each butter and flour and a spoonful of tomato paste, will stand in for it.
Unsalted baconHe means fresh unsmoked pork belly or salt-free side pork, cut in lardons. Ordinary smoked bacon will dominate the dish; unsmoked pancetta is the closest easy substitute, and reduce your added salt accordingly.
Turning the turnipsCut the turnips into olive-sized ovals with a paring knife, then fry them in butter with a pinch of sugar until they take colour. The sugar is there to glaze, not to sweeten, and the browning keeps them from dissolving into the sauce.
Bunch of parsleyA bouquet garni: parsley stems tied around a thyme sprig and a bay leaf, so it lifts out whole at the end. Tie it with kitchen string or it will shed into the stew.
YieldTwo dozen onions and four dozen turnips against half a pound of bacon points to a platter for eight to ten. Halve everything for a household dinner.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) records the kitchen of Delmonico's in New York, and this dish is a straight importation of French domestic thrift into a luxury restaurant. Abatis (more often spelled abattis) is the French term for the trimmings of a bird — neck, feet, gizzard, wing tips — the parts left after the goose itself has gone to the roasting spit, and pairing them with turnips is the classic country treatment, the same logic that produces canard aux navets. Geese were a seasonal bird, heavily eaten from autumn through the winter holidays, and a restaurant roasting them in quantity would have accumulated giblets fast; turning them into a garnished stew with espagnole was how a professional kitchen made the offcuts worth a menu line. The turnips cut to the size and shape of large Spanish olives are standard classical French practice: the same peasant vegetable, dressed for the dining room.