The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2689

Artichokes-Whole-a la Barigoule

Artichauts Entiers a la Barigoule

Pare eight medium-sized artichokes; suppress the hardest leaves from the bottom (Fig. 544) and cut the upper ones off straight on the pointed end; empty out the inside, or more properly speaking the chokes (Fig. 543), wash thoroughly and drain well, turning them upside down so as to have no water left in the inside. Pour some oil in a pan; when very hot fry the tips of the artichoke leaves in it. Should the bottoms be thin, then lay another one inside, thus having two bottoms to one artichoke. To make the dressing, chop up half a pound of fresh fat pork with half a pound of butter; add three finely chopped small shallots, a spoonful and a half of chopped parsley, salt, pepper, nutmeg, a pound of finely minced or chopped mushrooms, and a gill of Madeira wine. Have all these ingredients properly mingled, divide in eight parts, and fill the inside of the artichokes with them; cover with bards of fat pork, tie with two rows of string and lay them in a saucepan with slices of fat pork; on the bottom place carrots, onions, a bunch of parsley with thyme and bay leaf, moisten with half stock (No. 194a) and white wine; boil, skim and then cook in a moderate oven for one hour or longer, until the leaves detach easily; drain the stock, skim and reduce it with espagnole sauce (No. 414) to half-glaze, adding lemon juice. Untie the artichokes, suppress the fat pork and dress; cover lightly with a part of the sauce, serving the remainder separately.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade with stock, espagnole and pork fat on hand. The dish still works in a home kitchen, but several of his terms and quantities need translating first.

A Little History

Barigoule is traditionally derived from the Provençal word, a local name for a wild mushroom, though the identification of the species is contested and some accounts hold that the name refers to cooking the artichoke in the manner of the mushroom rather than stuffing it with mushrooms. The earliest versions of the dish are generally traced to Provence, where trimmed artichokes were stuffed with chopped mushrooms and salt pork and grilled or braised in oil. By the time Charles Ranhofer set it down for Delmonico's in The Epicurean (1894) it had been thoroughly absorbed into the grande cuisine repertoire: the mushrooms remain, but they are bound with butter and fatback, moistened with Madeira and white wine, and finished with espagnole reduced to half-glaze. That trajectory, from a Provençal country dish named after a mushroom to a plated first course with a mother sauce, is a fair picture of how nineteenth-century restaurant kitchens handled regional cooking. Modern Provençal artichauts à la barigoule has largely gone the other way, back toward artichokes stewed in olive oil with wine and vegetables and no sauce at all.