The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2413

Terrine of Foies-Gras in Aspic—Whole

Terrine Entiere de Foies-Gras en Aspic

Unmold a terrine of foies-gras; scrape it neatly with a knife on top and sides to remove all the exterior grease, and keep it on ice. Procure a mold of the same shape but an inch wider in diameter and an inch deeper; incrust it in pounded ice; decorate the bottom and sides with fanciful cuts of truffles, tongue, egg-white, and pistachios, dipping each piece into half-set jelly before fastening them on; cover this decoration with a layer of jelly, and pour in more to lay half an inch thick in the bottom. Place the foies-gras exactly in the center and finish filling the mold with cooled-off jelly; keep on ice. Put a rice foundation bottom one inch and a half in height on a plated metal tray with a half-inch high straight edge (the rice foundation should be one inch and a half less in diameter than the tray), turn the aspic out of its mold on to the rice foundation, fastening a small basket on top secured by a skewer, and filling it with small glazed truffles. Decorate around the rice foundation with triangular jelly croutons, as shown in the drawing.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is an assembly piece rather than a cooking recipe: Ranhofer assumes you already have a finished terrine of foie gras and a pot of clear aspic jelly, and the whole exercise is about temperature control and patience. Everything hinges on the jelly being at the right stage — syrupy and just beginning to set, never warm, never firm.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) records the repertoire he cooked at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry belongs to the long "Cold Service" chapter that supplied the buffet and ball supper — dishes built to stand for an hour on a sideboard and be looked at as much as eaten. Terrines of fattened goose liver were associated above all with Strasbourg, and by the second half of the nineteenth century tinned and potted foie gras from Alsace and the southwest of France travelled reliably enough to appear on American menus year round. The aspic casing is doing two jobs: it seals the liver from air, which was real preservation before mechanical refrigeration, and it provides a transparent field for the cut truffle, tongue, egg white and pistachio work that signalled an expensive kitchen. The rice socle, the skewered basket and the ring of jelly croutons are pure Carême-descended architecture, the sort of construction that fell out of fashion when service à la russe and plated courses took over the dining room.