The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2246

Crepine of Pigeons, Poivrade Sauce with Truffle Essence

Crepine de Pigeons, Sauce Poivrade a l'Essence de Truffes

Truss six pigeons as for an entree (No. 178); braise them in a mirepoix stock (No. 419) and when done transfer them to a vessel, straining the mirepoix stock over and then let get thoroughly cold. Spread some pieces of "crepine" or caul fat on the table; split the pigeons in two, pare nicely and cover with a forcemeat made of half a pound of veal and half a pound of veal suet, both being finely chopped and pounded to a pulp, then mix in two ounces of bread crumbs, salt, pepper, nutmeg, finely shredded chives, chopped up mushrooms and a few egg-yolks; when this forcemeat is of a sufficient smoothness, and has acquired a firmness, use it to cover over both sides of the pigeons, laying it on rather thick; place a few slices of truffles on top and wrap the whole in pieces of crepine; baste over with melted butter and roll in bread-crumbs, then put them in a slow oven to get very warm, and serve on a poivrade sauce (No. 522) with essence of truffle (No. 395) added.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

A Delmonico's assembly dish: braised pigeon, chilled, jacketed in veal forcemeat, wrapped in caul and baked. Most of the work is cold-kitchen prep, and the recipe leans on four cross-references the modern reader has to supply.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after some three decades as chef of Delmonico's in New York, and the book reads as a working index rather than a teaching manual — hence the numbered cross-references, which assume a brigade that already knows how a mirepoix stock or a poivrade is built. Crepine is simply the French kitchen word for caul fat, and dishes named for it are all variations on the same trick: a farce wrapped in that lacy membrane, which bastes the parcel from the outside and disappears as it cooks, leaving a browned skin where there is no skin. The neighbouring entries in this section — crepine of chicken breasts, crepine of reedbirds — show how freely the form was applied to small birds. Reedbirds, incidentally, were bobolinks, netted by the thousand and sold as game in nineteenth-century American markets; they are protected now, which is one measure of how far this section of the book has drifted from what a cook can actually buy. Pigeon, by contrast, remains available as squab, and this dish is one of the more workable survivals in the chapter.</invoke>|</parameter>|</invoke>|</parameter>}</parameter>}</invoke>|</parameter>|</parameter>}</parameter>}</invoke>|