The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 1988

Pullet Ivory with Decorated Quenelles

Poularde a l'\fIvoire aux Quenelles Decorees

Break the breast bone of a cleaned and singed pullet, tie it up as for an entree (No. 178) and insert a piece of butter into the breast; cover over with bards of fat pork and set it in a saucepan of its own dimensions; moisten to its height with stock (No. 194a), boil the liquid over a hot fire then remove the saucepan on a slower one, cover and finish cooking the pullet for forty-five to sixty minutes. As soon as done to perfection, strain the stock through a napkin into another vessel leaving the pullet to keep warm. Skim the fat from the stock and pour the top gently into another saucepan, then reduce it with some veloute sauce (No. 415) and cream; strain this through a tammy. Dress the pullet, pour the sauce over, and garnish around with chicken quenelles decorated with truffles (No. 154).

For the Modern Kitchen

A classic white poach: the bird is cooked gently in stock, the stock becomes the sauce, and nothing is allowed to brown. Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a stockpot and a larder of numbered preparations, so most of the work is deciding what to substitute.

A Little History

À l'ivoire is generally understood as a colour instruction rather than a recipe name: on this reading, the point is that neither the bird nor the sauce ever takes on the faintest tinge of brown, so the finished dish reads as pale as ivory against the black inlay of the truffle-decorated quenelles. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York for more than thirty years, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a working compendium of the French repertoire as it was actually cooked in an American grand restaurant, which is why the text is a web of cross-references — No. 178 for trussing, No. 194a for the stock, No. 415 for the velouté — rather than a self-contained recipe. Poaching the hen keeps the flesh moist and, just as importantly, produces the concentrated cooking liquor that becomes the sauce, so nothing is wasted. The decorated quenelle, cut with tiny truffle shapes and arranged around the platter, belongs to the same taste for visible labour that filled the plates of the 1890s dining room.