The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2400

Salt Codfish Vol-au-Vent-Large

Gros Vol-au-vent de Morue Salee

Cut some salted codfish in two-inch pieces, pare them evenly, and lay in cold water to soak for twenty-four hours, changing the water every six hours; the last change must be slightly tepid. When ready to cook put it into a saucepan containing cold water; bring this slowly to a boiling point and leave for three-quarters of an hour without allowing it to actually boil; drain, take off all the skin and bones, and then shred it in flakes; put these in a saucepan with cream bechamel sauce (No. 411). With this prepared fish fill a vol-au-vent crust the same as described in No. 180, dress it on a very hot dish, and serve.

It can also be prepared with eggs, adding to the fish hard-boiled eggs and finely chopped parsley and chives.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer assumes a brigade, a stocked larder and a cross-referenced book; the dish itself is salt cod creamed and spooned into a puff pastry case. Two things decide whether it works: the soak and the fact that the fish must never boil.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York for over thirty years, and The Epicurean (1894) is his attempt to set down the whole repertoire in one numbered, cross-referenced volume, which is why this page sends you to No. 411 for the sauce and No. 180 for the crust. Salt cod on a fashionable New York menu is less surprising than it looks: the Atlantic cod fishery was one of the oldest industries in New England, dried cod was a staple of both the carriage trade and the tenement, and French cookery had a long line of dishes, from brandade to morue a la creme, that turned preserved fish into something worth serving in pastry. The vol-au-vent itself, a case of puff pastry baked hollow and filled at the last minute, is generally traced to the early nineteenth-century Parisian kitchen and to Careme's circle; the name means roughly "flight in the wind," a nod to how little the risen shell weighs. Its appearance here, alongside chicken with mushrooms and a case of frogs, shows the form doing exactly what it did best on a large table: making a modest filling look like an occasion.