The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2386

Timbale of Pullet

Timbale de Poularde

Cut each of two pullets into five pieces, and five ounces of bacon into thin squares; warm these in a saucepan with some butter, then add the pieces of chicken, and fry them while tossing; season, put in the livers and three or four peeled and sliced truffles. When the chickens are partly done moisten them with a little white wine and reduce quickly; then pour the stew into a tureen. Butter a timbale mold, bestrew chopped noodles over the sides and bottom, and then line it with fine paste (No. 142); cover the sides and bottoms with veal chopped forcemeat (No. 65), finished with a few cooked fine herbs (No. 385). Pour the stew into the timbale, leaving as little empty space as possible, and covering over with a flat of the same paste; fasten this to the edge, and egg over the whole, then push the timbale into a moderate oven to cook for one hour. After removing it cut a small opening in the middle of the crust, and pour in a few spoonfuls of good half-glaze sauce (No. 413); close the opening and invert the timbale on a dish to serve.

For the Modern Kitchen

A raised pie in a mold: a half-cooked chicken fricassee sealed inside pastry lined with forcemeat, baked, sauced through a vent, then turned out. Ranhofer assumes you have his numbered base recipes to hand, so the work is mostly in the components.

A Little History

This is Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the record of some thirty years cooking at Delmonico's in New York, and it reads less like a cookbook than a professional inventory: over 3,000 numbered recipes, each assuming the others. The timbale itself takes its name from the drum-shaped mold (French timbale, generally traced back to an Arabic word for drum), and the technique of lining a mold with pastry and forcemeat, filling it with a ragout and turning it out whole belongs to the grande cuisine that Carême helped codify earlier in the century. Ranhofer's book is full of these constructions because they could be assembled in advance and brought to the table intact and impressive. The truffles and the demi-glace poured in through a hole in the lid at the last moment are the marks of a restaurant kitchen with a stockpot always running.