The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2612

Trout with Jelly, Tartar Sauce

Truites a la Gelee, Sauce Tartare

Let the fish be very fresh for it loses its best qualities when kept from the water or on ice for any length of time. Clean the fish through the gills without opening or scaling it. Lay it on the belly side on the fish grate, cover with cold and strained white wine court-bouillon (No. 39), heat the liquid and skim; at the first boil withdraw it to one side, so that it quivers for fifteen minutes. Remove the fish with the grate, and let drain for a couple of hours, then slide on a wooden foundation concealed by white paper and fastened on a large dish; support the fish upright, so it will not fall, and cover over with slightly reddened cold jelly; garnish the two ends with clusters of shrimps and surround the foundation with jelly croutons (No. 2442); fill up the spaces between the fish with bunches of fresh parsley leaves or chopped jelly; serve tartar sauce (No. 631) with the fish.

For the Modern Kitchen

A cold buffet centerpiece from Ranhofer's Delmonico's kitchen: a whole trout poached in wine court-bouillon, then glazed in aspic and presented standing on a concealed plinth. The cooking is simple; the assembly is where the work is.

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 sits in a run of garnishings for cold dishes -- the aspic-glazed set pieces that anchored a nineteenth-century buffet or ambigu. Presenting a whole fish upright on a papered socle, coated in tinted jelly and ringed with cut aspic croutons, belongs to the display cookery codified by Careme earlier in the century, where a cold course was expected to be architecture as much as food; the trout immediately preceding this one is in fact titled a la Careme. Tartar sauce is the standing accompaniment, its name generally traced to the French fashion for labeling sharp, mustard-and-caper dressings "a la tartare" after the Tartars, with no closer connection than that. Ranhofer's opening warning that the fish loses its best qualities after any time out of the water is worth reading as period evidence: trout in the 1890s came from streams and hatchery ponds, often live to the kitchen door, and the whole conceit of this dish depends on a fish fresh enough to be worth looking at.