The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2274

Cutlets of Young Hare a la Favorite

Cotelettes de Levraut a la Favorite

Take both fillet and minion fillets, suppress the sinews and cut the meat lengthwise in two or three pieces; flatten and pare into half hearts, salt and lay them on a buttered baking sheet; bend them all to the right and give them the shape of a cutlet. Cut each minion fillet in three equal pieces, streak them on their length with truffles and place on the outside edge of the cutlets, cover over with bards of fat pork or else melted butter and cook in a brisk oven; drain and decorate with fancy favor frills (No. 10). Lay these cutlets on bread-crumb croutons cut the same size, dressing them in a circle, and fill the center with a stew composed of quenelles made with the leg and shoulder meats, truffles, mushrooms and espagnole sauce (No. 414), well reduced and beaten with some fumet (No. 397) made of the hare's carcasses and bones; serve more of this sauce apart at the same time.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with stock pots already going, so the recipe assumes espagnole, a game fumet and quenelle forcemeat are on hand. Read it as an assembly plan: loins shaped into mock cutlets, a garnish stew of the tougher meat, and one sauce doing double duty.

A Little History

This comes from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the enormous compendium he wrote after some thirty years as chef of Delmonico's in New York, and the numbered cross-references to sauces, garnishes and frills are the book's whole method: it is a professional's reference, not a home cookbook. Levraut is a young hare, a leveret, and the classical kitchen prized it for tenderness while consigning older hares to civet and long braises. The trick of paring a boneless fillet into a heart shape and calling it a cutlet is pure nineteenth-century service cooking, where uniform, dressed-up portions mattered as much as flavour; the paper frill on a boneless piece of meat gives the game away. Garnishes styled a la favorite appear across French menus of the period with no fixed formula, generally signalling truffle and a refined garnish rather than any one preparation. That a New York restaurant could put young hare on the card at all reflects a market then still supplied by wild game dealers, a trade largely legislated out of existence in the United States in the decades after this book appeared.