The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 237

Consomme a la Noailles

Consomme a la Noailles

A garnishing made of artichoke bottoms, two inches in diameter; remove the centers, using a half inch tube for the purpose, then divide the rest into sixteen equal sized pieces, and pare them nicely; put them into a vegetable dish with a little consomme, also some consistent Royal garnishing (No. 241), cut into quarter of an inch squares. Have also round timbales made of game, hare, or leveret, or any other seasonable game; half a pint of game puree, half a pint of espagnole sauce with tomatoes (No. 414); salt, pepper, nutmeg, and five whole or twelve yolks; butter the insides of the molds, fill them with the preparation, and poach them in a slow oven; when firm to the touch, unmold and set them in a vegetable dish with the royal cream cut in squares, and the artichoke bottoms. Serve very hot, and at the same time send a soup tureen of game consomme slightly thickened with arrowroot; adding just when ready to serve a little good Xeres or Madeira wine.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a garnish recipe more than a soup recipe: the consommé itself is assumed, and what Ranhofer specifies is the assembly of artichoke, savory custard and small game timbales that go into the plate before the broth is poured over.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry shows the logic of the book: dozens of numbered consommés that differ only in garnish, each named for a patron, a place or a figure of the French court and aristocracy — Noailles was one of the great ducal houses of the old regime, and the name attaches to several classical garnishes rather than to any single documented dish. The construction is pure high-nineteenth-century French service: the clear broth arrives in a tureen while the solid garnish waits in the plate, so the consommé is never clouded and the timbale is never overcooked. The reliance on cross-references — No. 241 for the royale, No. 414 for the sauce — is also characteristic; the book was written for a brigade that already had those preparations standing ready, not for a cook starting from nothing.