The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2388

Timbale of Sweetbreads, Modern-Large

Grosse Timbale de Ris de Veau a la Moderne

Butter a large oval mold as for timbale a la Parisian (No. 2382), allowing one quart for eight persons; decorate the bottom and sides with fanciful cuts of truffles, and hold these up with a thick layer of solid chicken quenelle forcemeat (No. 89.) Cut up in half-inch squares one pound of braised, unlarded sweetbreads that have been left to cool in their stock, also as much cooked lean ham. Put four ounces of butter into a sautoir with two ounces of onion cut in small one-eighth of an inch squares, and when done without browning add four ounces of minced fresh mushrooms; when these have evaporated their moisture add the sweetbreads and ham; season and moisten with two gills of Madeira; let the latter reduce entirely, then pour in some brown sauce (No. 414) and the sweetbread braise stock; reduce once more and transfer the whole to a dish to get cold. Fill the timbale mold with this preparation; spread a half inch thick layer of forcemeat on a sheet of buttered paper, having it the same size as the timbale, turn over the sheet to fasten the forcemeat to the forcemeat in the timbale; attach it well to the top; poach the timbale by placing it in boiling water that reaches halfway up; boil this and push the timbale into a slack oven for an hour and a quarter to an hour and a half, or until the forcemeat be perfectly firm; remove the paper, unmold on a dish and pour around a Madeira sauce (No. 492), serving more of it in a sauce-boat.

For the Modern Kitchen

A bain-marie timbale of the old school: a chicken forcemeat crust lining a mold, filled with a Madeira-scented salpicon of sweetbreads and ham. Nothing here is difficult, but the assembly is unforgiving of shortcuts, and the recipe assumes you have already read the several cross-referenced numbers it points to.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894 after some three decades as chef of Delmonico's in New York, and its 3,000-odd numbered recipes are cross-referenced like an encyclopedia precisely because the book was written for professional brigades rather than home cooks. A timbale in this sense is not the baked custard of later American cookbooks but a molded forcemeat case, from the Arabic-derived word for a drum, describing the shape of the mold. Veal sweetbreads were among the most prestigious items on a nineteenth-century menu, expensive, perishable, and requiring hours of soaking, blanching and pressing before cooking even began, which is why they appear here paired with truffle and Madeira. The label a la moderne is one Ranhofer uses loosely for dressed-up presentations of his own moment; there is nothing fixed about it, and it tells you more about the fashion for elaborate molded entrees in the Gilded Age dining room than about any particular regional tradition.