No. 2018

Squabs in Earthenware Saucepan or Stuffed—Roasted

Pigenneaux Rotis a la Casserole ou Pigeonneaux Farcis Rotis au Four

In Earthenware Saucepan.—Procure six squabs, draw, singe and truss well with the legs thrust inside, keeping them a pretty shape. Put two ounces of butter into a small earthenware saucepan and when hot, add the squabs and roast them in this over a good fire or in the oven; when done, drain and pour off the fat, detach the glaze with a little gravy (No. 404), untruss the squabs, put them back in the pan, dress, strain the sauce over them and serve in the earthen ware pan.

Stuffed.—Steep a piece of bread in broth and at once squeeze out all the moisture; lay it in a saucepan and add to it as much chopped beef suet, a few egg-yolks and one whole egg; stir this preparation with a spoon and season with salt, pepper, chopped parsley and onions. Break the breastbones of three young, drawn and clean squabs, fill the empty space with the prepared dressing and roast them quickly on the spit, basting over with melted butter. Salt over when ready to take out, untruss and dress on a dish, garnishing them if so desired with a little very green water-cress seasoned with salt and vinegar, and serve some gravy (No. 404) separately.

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For the Modern Kitchen

Two treatments of squab from Ranhofer's Delmonico's kitchen: one pot-roasted in an earthenware vessel and served in it, one boned at the breast, stuffed and spit-roasted. Both depend on speed — squab is lean and small, and it dries out faster than any other bird you are likely to roast.

"Casserole" means the pan, not the dishHere it is Ranhofer's earthenware saucepan: the birds are cooked in it and brought to table in it. A small glazed clay cocotte or a 2-quart enamelled cast-iron pot does the same job; the point is a heavy vessel that holds heat and can go to the table.
What a squab isA young domestic pigeon, killed before it has flown, sold at around a pound dressed. It is dark-fleshed and tender throughout. Ranhofer calls for six in the first treatment and three in the stuffed one, which suggests one bird per person. Butchers and game suppliers stock them frozen; poussin is the nearest substitute but cooks paler and blander.
"Draw, singe and truss"Drawing (gutting) is done for you now. Singeing burns off pinfeathers over a gas flame or with a kitchen torch — worth doing, as squab skin keeps stubs. Trussing with the legs pushed inside the cavity keeps the compact shape Ranhofer wants for service in the pot.
Oven and fireRanhofer gives no temperature; "a good fire" simply means brisk heat. For a bird this size a hot oven, in the region of 425-450F for roughly 20-25 minutes, is a reasonable modern equivalent. The spit-roasted stuffed birds want the same brisk heat. Low and slow ruins squab.
DonenessRestaurant practice serves squab breast rosy, around 135F. The stuffed version is different: it contains raw egg yolk and suet, so the stuffing itself should reach 165F, which means the bird will be cooked through. If that is not what you want, cook the forcemeat separately as quenelles and serve alongside.
Detaching the glazeThis is deglazing. Pour off the butter, add a little stock to the caramelised residue, scrape and reduce. Gravy No. 404 is Ranhofer's cross-referenced brown gravy; a good unthickened brown stock, reduced, is the equivalent. Do not use a floured gravy here.
The panadeBread steeped in broth and wrung out, bound with suet and egg, is a standard forcemeat base. Squeeze it genuinely dry or the stuffing weeps. Chopped beef suet can be replaced by finely diced cold butter or minced fatty pork, but suet gives the firmer, drier crumb Ranhofer expects.
Spit and saltWithout a rotisserie, roast the stuffed birds on a rack in a very hot oven, basting with melted butter as they cook. Ranhofer directs salting only when the birds are ready to come out; it is worth following his order.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's for some three decades, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that restaurant's working repertoire set down in print — hence the cross-references to numbered sauces and gravies rather than full instructions each time. Squab was not an exotic ingredient in nineteenth-century America: pigeon lofts were common, squab raising for market was developing as a commercial trade in the later nineteenth century, and the birds appeared on hotel menus as a matter of course. Serving a dish in the earthenware pot it cooked in is a French habit, and the same impulse later put the cocotte on bistro tables. The stuffed version, with its bread-and-suet panade and its spit, is older still in technique, and breaking the breastbone to make room for forcemeat survives in the boned stuffed pigeon of classical cookery.