The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2851

Eggs au Miroir a la Jockey Club

Œufs au Miroir a la Jockey Club

Suppress the thin skin from one half of a white veal kidney; divide it, take out the fibrous fat, and then cut the meat into small dice. Heat some butter in a pan, put with it the kidneys, season and toss on a bright fire to have them cook rapidly, then remove with a skimmer, and set into a small vessel. Into the pan the kidneys were stewed in put two or three spoonfuls of half-glaze sauce (No. 413), and as much tomato puree (No. 730), reduce all to a third, mixing in a spoonful of Madeira wine; boil up once or twice, then take it from the fire and return the kidneys, also half as much cooked truffles cut exactly the same size as these; the sauce should be consistent. Cook six eggs au mirior on a large buttered dish, that is, baste the egg yolk with boiling butter several times while cooking in the oven; this will make them very glossy; cut them into rounds with a pastry cutter (three inches in diameter), take up with a palette, and dress in a circle on the bottom of a dish; heat the kidneys without boiling, and dress them inside the circle.

For the Modern Kitchen

A Delmonico's composed egg dish: baked eggs trimmed to neat discs, ringed around a ragout of veal kidney and truffle. Two things carry it — the gloss on the yolks and the fact that the garnish is warmed, never simmered.

A Little History

This comes from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the vast codification of the kitchen he ran at Delmonico's in New York, and it shows how that kitchen worked: a numbered cross-reference system in which a single egg dish leans on two other recipes for its sauce. Œufs au miroir — mirror eggs — take their name from the sheen the repeated butter basting leaves on the yolk, the French counterpart to the English shirred egg. "À la Jockey Club" is one of the period's club-and-society garnish names, of the same family as à la Rothschild or à la Talleyrand, and it is sometimes associated, loosely rather than as settled convention, with kidney and truffle in a Madeira-scented brown sauce; the naming is honorific rather than a record of who first ate it. Ranhofer runs the miroir egg through a run of variations in sequence, each distinguished only by what sits inside the ring, which tells you a good deal about how a nineteenth-century grand-restaurant menu was built: one technique, endlessly re-dressed.