No. 2549

"pain" of Young Rabbit

Pain de Levraut

Suppress all the meats from a young rabbit, also the skin and sinews, and use the bones to make a game fumet (No. 397). Fry in butter the large fillets, the minion fillets and the leg meats; as soon as they are cooked take them out of the sautoir. When cold pound the leg meats finely, adding the fillets, and minion fillets then pound again with half as much cooked foies-gras, season and rub through a fine sieve. Put this pulp into a thin metal basin, and beat it for a few moments with a spoon in order to have it smooth, and incorporate into it slowly three gills of brown chaudfroid (No. 594), some game glaze (No. 398), and melted gelatine. Try a little of this preparation on ice to judge its consistency, and if not correct thicken it at once by beating it for a few moments longer on the ice, while mixing in more melted gelatine add two ounces of fresh butter broken into small bits, and when of a proper consistency stir in a few spoonfuls of cooked truffles cut in dice pieces, and an equal quantity of red beef tongue cut the same. Pour the whole into a plain cylinder mold coated over with a little half-set jelly applied with a brush, and imbed the mold on chopped ice; harden the contents for a couple of hours, then unmold it on a cold dish; surround with chopped jelly and croutons (No. 2442).

← No. 2548 "pain" of Partridges a la Montgomery Garnishings for Cold Dishes No. 2550 Roast Larded Partridges →

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a chilled game mousse set in a mold, not a bread. Ranhofer assumes you have a brigade and a full sauce station; the whole thing hinges on getting the gelatine ratio right before the mixture goes into the mold.

Test before you commitThe instruction to "try a little of this preparation on ice to judge its consistency" is the one step that decides the dish. Spoon a teaspoon onto a cold plate, let it set, and check it slices cleanly; too soft and it slumps on unmolding, too firm and it eats rubbery. Correct with more melted gelatine or more chaudfroid before anything goes near the mold.
Levraut is a young hareThe French title says levraut, a leveret, though the English gloss says rabbit. Either works; hare is darker and stronger, farmed rabbit much milder, and with rabbit you will want the game fumet and glaze to carry the flavor.
GillsThree gills is about a cup and a half of brown chaudfroid. No quantity is given for the game glaze or the melted gelatine; the amount is settled by the test on ice described above.
SautoirA straight-sided shallow pan, essentially a modern saute pan. Nothing special is required beyond a heavy pan that will brown the fillets fast without drying them.
Foies-grasThe recipe calls for half as much cooked foie gras as the pounded meat, a substantial proportion, and it is what makes the pain silky rather than pasty. A chicken-liver parfait or mousse is a possible substitute; omitting it altogether will change the texture.
Pounding and sievingA food processor does the pounding in seconds, but still push the puree through a fine drum sieve or tamis afterward. Rabbit and hare carry fine sinew that a processor shreds rather than removes, and the sieve is what gives the smooth cut surface the dish is built for.
ChillingImbedding the mold in chopped ice is a pre-refrigeration technique; the refrigerator does the same job. Two hours is a minimum for a cylinder mold, and overnight is better. Dip the mold briefly in warm water to release.
Truffles and tongueBoth are folded in at the last moment for the dice pattern in the slice, so let the base thicken slightly first or they will sink. Pickled or brined beef tongue gives the red color Ranhofer wanted; blanch and cool it before dicing.
Yield and serviceOne young rabbit with foie gras will fill a mold of roughly a quart, enough for perhaps a dozen portions as a cold entree, though the book gives no size or yield. It belongs on a buffet, sliced, and should not sit out more than a couple of hours.

A Little History

Pain in nineteenth-century French kitchen usage meant a molded, sliceable forcemeat set firm enough to turn out whole the loaf shape, not the bread. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York for some three decades, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a complete record of that kitchen, and its chapter of cold dishes reflects a period when the elaborate cold buffet chaudfroids, aspics, molded mousses, decorated galantines was the showpiece of formal American and European service. Cold work of this kind was practical as much as ornamental: it could be finished a day ahead and held on ice, which mattered for long banquet menus. The cross-references throughout to fumet No. 397, chaudfroid No. 594, croutons No. 2442 are typical of the book, which functions less as a collection of recipes than as a single interlocking system that assumes the reader has already made the sauces.