The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2081

Larks a la Marechale

Aviates a la Marechale

Bone and stuff about fifteen larks with a baking forcemeat (No. 81) mixed with a little raw forcemeat (No. 91) and chopped truffles. Form these into ball-shapes and wrap each one in a small piece of cloth; tie them up tight and cook in a very little clear stock (No. 194a); drain off to tighten the cloth. When cold, unwrap the birds and pare; lay each one inside of a large head of cepes or fresh mushrooms previously scooped out with a vegetable spoon. Lay these in a sautour, pour over some hot butter and cook for ten minutes on a bright fire while covered, then baste with a few spoonfuls of half-glaze sauce (No. 413), cook again for seven or eight minutes on a slow fire, remove them with a pallet and dress on a dish; and two spoonfuls of Madeira wine to their broth and thicken it with a little half-glaze sauce (No. 413), reduce for two minutes and then pour into the dish.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

This is a cross-referenced set piece from a professional French kitchen, and it cannot be reproduced today for the plain reason that its main ingredient is a protected wild songbird.

A Little History

Small songbirds were standard luxury game across nineteenth-century Europe, sold by the dozen in markets and eaten whole or, as here, boned and rebuilt into something that concealed how little meat each bird carried. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, published The Epicurean in 1894 as an encyclopedic record of that kitchen, and its bird chapters run through quail, snipe, woodcock, reed-birds, plover and lark with no sense that any of them might one day be off the table. The turn came with the American Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 and comparable European protections later in the century, which ended the market trade in songbirds and left recipes like this one readable only as evidence of what a fashionable dining room once expected. The technique itself survives: forcemeat-stuffed boned birds, moulded in cloth and finished in a glaze, is still how classical kitchens handle anything too small to serve on its own.