The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2281

Escalops of Fat Livers with Risot, Perigueux Sauce

Escalopes de Foies-Gras au Risot, Sauce Perigueux

Prepare three-quarters of a pound of Piedmontese rice into a risot (No. 739). Cut up the quarter of a fat liver cooked and cold into small escalops; put them in a sautoir with half as many cooked truffles also cut up; add three spoonfuls of Madeira sauce and as much melted meat glaze (No. 402). Keep the stew hot. Lastly finish the risot with fresh parmesan, fine butter, and prepared red pepper (No. 168). Pour half of this into a large buttered plain dome-shaped mold, press it well on the sides in such a way that a hollow is formed in the center; fill this with the foiesgras stew and cover with the remainder of the rice; keep it in a heater for seven to eight minutes, then turn it out on a dish, covering the bottom of it with a little Perigueux sauce (No. 517).

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with a larder of standing preparations, so the recipe is really an assembly job: risotto, a truffled foie gras ragout, and two sauces built from stock reductions. The hinge is the mold — the rice must be packed firmly enough against the sides to hold when turned out, or the whole thing collapses onto the sauce.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York for more than thirty years, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially the house repertoire written down — some three thousand numbered preparations, cross-referenced like an engineering manual. This dish is French haute cuisine transplanted whole: Perigueux sauce takes its name from Perigueux in the Dordogne, the market town at the center of France's black truffle and foie gras country, and by the nineteenth century the name signified any demi-glace finished with chopped truffle and Madeira. The risotto is the Italian element, and Ranhofer's specification of "Piedmontese rice" reflects a period when short-grain rice was imported by region rather than by cultivar name. Dishes like this one, molded, turned out and sauced at the last moment, belonged to the service à la russe that had displaced the older practice of setting everything on the table at once; each course arrived hot and composed, which is why the recipe spends its final sentences on the mold and the warming cupboard rather than on cooking anything.