The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2528

Kingfish Fillets a la Valencay

Filets de Kingfish a la Valencay

Pare oblong shape and cook ten to twelve small fillets of kingfish in a sautoir with white wine court-bouillon (No. 39); drain and let cool under a weight; trim them nicely, dip them singly into a white chaudfroid sauce (No. 596), ranging them immediately on to a baking sheet to cool off the sauce, then pare off the surplus of it. Decorate a third part of them on the smooth side with fanciful cuts of truffles or gherkins; cover them over with half-set jelly applied with a brush, and let this get cold, then dress them on an inch-high socle in pyramid form. placing the decorated ones on top. On one side fasten a hatelet garnished with shrimps. Uphold the fillets of fish on both sides with thick chopped jelly pushed through a cornet and surround, both right and left, with five or six large crawfish bodies, emptied and refilled with a salpicon of crawfish or lobster tails, combined with a salad of small vegetables dressed with mayonnaise (No. 606). Stand these bodies upright to form a half circle, and brush over with half-set jelly; surround the base of the dish with fine jelly croutons (No. 2442), and serve with a sauce-boat of mayonnaise sauce (No. 606).

For the Modern Kitchen

A cold buffet showpiece from Ranhofer's Delmonico's kitchen, built in stages: poach, chill, coat, decorate, assemble. Nothing in it is difficult, but the order and the temperature of the jelly at each step decide whether it works.

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 belongs to its long chapter of cold buffet set-pieces — food built upward on pedestals, glazed with aspic, and decorated with cut truffle, meant to be looked at as much as eaten. Dishes styled à la Valençay take their name from the château of Valençay, the estate of Talleyrand, in whose household Carême worked; as with most nineteenth-century garnish names, the connection is one of homage and convention rather than a documented origin, and the label signals a style of presentation more than a fixed set of ingredients. The kingfish itself is the local touch: a modest, plentiful fish off the mid-Atlantic coast that Ranhofer treats with the full apparatus of French cuisine froide, which is much of what The Epicurean is about — American market fish and shellfish dressed in the grammar of the Paris kitchen.