The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2856

Boiled Eggs

Œufs a la Coque

When only a few eggs are required proceed as follows: Boil some water in a saucepan, remove it from the fire, and plunge the eggs into the liquid with a skimmer, being careful not to break the shells; cover the saucepan to allow the water to boil up again, and from this time cook the eggs for three minutes. Should they be large or freshly laid take the saucepan off after three minutes, leaving the eggs one minute longer in the liquid.

Eggs may also be plunged into cold water, put over a brisk fire and taken off at the first boil.

Another Way is to plunge them into boiling water and let cook for one minute after the water has boiled up again, then withdraw the vessel from the fire, and leave them in the water for five minutes. Eggs are cooked by steam in four minutes. The ordinary method is the first mentioned. However it is very difficult to tell exactly how long to boil an egg, for some like them scarcely heated through, while others prefer the whites slightly hard. Boiled eggs are generally eaten from their shells with a spoon, but many empty the contents into a glass or cup, seasoning with salt, pepper, and a little fresh butter, then mixing thoroughly. Boiled eggs should be served in folded napkins or in imitated chickens made of china.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer gives four methods for the same three-minute egg, which tells you he did not entirely trust any of them. The variable he is quietly working around is the temperature of the egg going in, not the timing.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer spent more than thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and The Epicurean (1894) is his attempt to set down the whole of a great restaurant kitchen in one volume — over a thousand pages, from consommés to sugar sculpture. That such a book pauses to explain how to boil an egg is not a lapse but the point: Ranhofer was writing for professional cooks and ambitious households alike, and he treats the simplest operations with the same seriousness as the elaborate ones. His hedging here — four methods, an admission that "it is very difficult to tell exactly how long to boil an egg" — is candid for a man who elsewhere specifies garnishes to the leaf. He also records the habit of tipping the egg into a glass with salt, pepper and butter and mixing it together, a practice that later generations in Britain knew as "egg in a cup."