No. 2001

Pullets' Breasts a la Visconti

Filets de Poularde a la Visconti

Pare the fillets of three pullets each one weighing from three to four pounds; suppress the superficial skin covering the minions, also the pinion bones; beat them lightly, giving them the shape of a half heart on one end and pointed on the other; range these fillets on the bottom of a sautoir covered with a layer of clarified, and cold butter being careful to place them all in such a way that the sharp ends point toward the center. Just when ready to serve, salt them over and cook slowly on both sides while turning, then drain and dress in a circle on a ring of poached force-meat laid on a dish. Serve them with a garnishing in the center composed of cocks'-combs and kidneys, mushrooms and truffles, mingled with supreme sauce (No. 547), into which has been added half its quantity of mushroom puree (No. 722).

← No. 2000 Pullets' Breasts a la Varsovian Capon & Pullet No. 2002 Pullets' Minion Fillets with Macedoine →

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer assumes a brigade, a stock of house sauces and a butcher who sells cockscombs. Stripped of the garnish, this is a simple dish of chicken breasts cooked gently in butter and served on a ring of forcemeat, and the gentleness is the whole point.

PulletsA pullet is a young hen under a year old; at three to four pounds each it corresponds to a small modern broiler. Three birds yield six breast fillets plus six minion fillets (the tenderloins); the recipe itself gives no number of servings. Buying six boneless skinless breasts and six tenders gets you to the same place.
Fillets and minionsThe filet is the breast proper and the filet mignon the tenderloin lying beneath it. "Suppress the superficial skin covering the minions" means peel off the thin membrane; the "pinion bone" is the wing bone or joint that can be left attached at the thick end. Either would be unpleasant after this brief cooking.
SautoirA sautoir is a straight-sided shallow pan, not a casserole dish. The cold clarified butter is spread over the bottom in a layer so the fillets sit in fat that melts up around them as the pan warms. Ranhofer directs that the sharp ends point toward the centre but does not say why; it does let them all lie in a single layer.
Cook slowly, and time itThis is the hinge. Butter-poaching over low heat keeps the meat pale and moist, but breast meat is done at 160-165F and dries out fast beyond it. Depending on thickness, four to six minutes a side is plenty; the instruction to salt and cook only "just when ready to serve" is there because these cannot be held.
Cocks' combs and kidneysCockscombs, blanched and peeled, and cocks' "kidneys" (in nineteenth-century usage, the testes) were standard luxury garnish and are effectively unbuyable now. Mushrooms and truffles alone carry the garnish; sauteed sweetbreads or small poached quenelles fill the gap in texture.
The forcemeat ringA ring mold of chicken forcemeat, poached in a water bath until set, then turned out to serve as a base. A mousseline forcemeat of breast meat, egg white and cream is the modern equivalent; it can be made and poached ahead and gently rewarmed.
The sauceSupreme sauce is a chicken velouté finished with cream and butter. Ranhofer's proportion here is two parts supreme to one part mushroom puree, which makes a thick, strongly mushroom-flavored sauce meant to bind the garnish rather than pool on the plate.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef of Delmonico's in New York, and this recipe shows exactly how that kitchen worked: a base preparation of butter-cooked breast fillets, then a name attached to a particular garnish and sauce. Dozens of consecutive numbers in the Capon & Pullet section differ only in what surrounds the same fillets. Personal and place names of this kind — Visconti, Varsovian, and hundreds more in the book — were the house shorthand for a fixed combination, sometimes honoring a patron or a visiting dignitary, and the connection is rarely documented beyond the menu itself. The cockscombs and cocks' kidneys in the garnish were an inheritance from French grande cuisine, prized for their gelatinous texture and often said to have been, by Ranhofer's time, a marker of deliberate, expensive old-fashionedness; they are generally thought to have faded from American restaurant kitchens in the decades after this book's publication.