No. 2729

Chicory with Cream

Chicoree a la Creme

Pick eight chicory heads, suppress all the green leaves, wash well, and cut the bottoms into a cross; plunge into boiling salted water, and let cook for twenty-five to thirty minutes; refresh, drain, press out all the moisture, and pick over carefully to remove any small straws or other impurities that may be found among the leaves, then chop up finely. Heat some butter in a saucepan, put in the chicory, and dry it over a brisk fire for ten minutes without ceasing to stir; add a heaping tablespoonful of flour, some salt, nutmeg, sugar and rich cream; when very hot and ready to serve incorporate four ounces of fresh butter. If to be served as a vegetable pour it into a vegetable dish, and surround with bread croutons (No. 51) fried in butter.

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For the Modern Kitchen

A classic French braised-green purée, written for a brigade that already knew the proportions. The quantities of cream and seasoning are left to judgment, so the notes below fill in the gaps.

What "chicory" means hereRanhofer is translating chicorée, the curly-leaved salad chicory sold today as frisée or, in its broader-leaved form, escarole. It is not Belgian endive (witloof) and not the roasted root sold as a coffee substitute. Discarding the dark outer leaves leaves you with the pale, tender hearts.
YieldEight heads cook down enormously. Trimmed weight will vary a great deal with the size of the heads; reckon on something like six to eight side-dish portions.
The long blanch is deliberateTwenty-five to thirty minutes in salted water looks punishing for a salad green, but it is what draws out the bitterness. Cut short, the finished purée turns harsh under the cream. Refresh means plunging into cold water to stop the cooking and hold the color.
Press it truly dryThis is the hinge. Chicory holds an astonishing amount of water; squeeze it in a towel by handfuls until no more runs, then still dry it in the butter over high heat for the full ten minutes. Skimp here and the flour and cream will not bind, and you get a watery green pool.
Flour and cream proportionsA heaping tablespoon of flour will carry about a cup of cream. Add the cream gradually once the flour has cooked a minute or two in the butter, and let it come to a simmer so the flour loses its raw taste.
Sugar and nutmegBoth are corrective rather than decorative. A teaspoon of sugar and a few scrapes of nutmeg counter what bitterness survives the blanching. Taste before committing to more.
The finishing butterFour ounces of butter beaten in at the last moment, as the recipe directs, enriches and glosses the puree. Do not let it boil hard once the butter is in. If that seems extravagant, half will still work.
The croutonsNo. 51 is the book's cross-reference for croutons; the recipe here specifies fried in butter. Croutons cut into shapes and arranged around the dish are a common period presentation; plain fried croutons do the same job.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) set down the repertoire of Delmonico's in New York, and it is essentially a French kitchen's book written in English, which is why the entry keeps its French title. Chicoree a la creme was a familiar vegetable preparation in nineteenth-century French service, served on its own or alongside roasts; the long blanch and the enrichment with butter and cream suit a green with a pronounced bitterness. Chicory was grown in market gardens around Paris and Brussels through the period, the curly salad chicory used here, the broader escarole, and the forced blanched shoots sold as witloof or Belgian endive being distinct things.