The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2987

Timbale of Gnocquis, a la Choiseul

Timbale de Gnocquis a la Choiseul

Prepare a paste with a pint of milk boiled with a quarter of a pound of butter; remove it at the first boil and put in a half pound of sifted flour; prepare as a pate-a-chou (No. 132); boil for a few moments on the fire, then incorporate fourteen eggs, salt and four ounces of grated parmesan. Turn this paste over on the table and finish with sufficient flour to have it firm and solid, then roll it out into thin strings a quarter of an inch in width, and divide these into quarter-inch lengths; roll each one to the shape of a ball and plunge them into boiling water to poach for three minutes, then drain and lay them in a saucepan with grated Swiss cheese and bechamel sauce (No. 409). Line a timbale mold with thin foundation paste (No. 135), pour in the gnoquis and wet the inside upper edge; cover the timbale with a flat of the same paste, attach the edges solidly together and cook for one hour in a medium oven, remove, unmold and serve at once, dressed on a dish, with a little buttered veloute sauce (No. 415) served separately.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is gnocchi à la parisienne — choux paste rather than potato — baked inside a pastry case. Ranhofer writes in cross-references, so a few of the numbered recipes need translating before you start.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) records the kitchen of Delmonico's in New York, and this entry shows how thoroughly that kitchen was French: the gnocchi are the Parisian kind, made from choux paste and cheese rather than potato or semolina, a preparation that belongs to the Escoffier-era repertoire far more than to Italy. Enclosing them in a pastry timbale — a mould-shaped case baked closed and turned out whole — was the standard nineteenth-century way to bring a soft, saucy filling to the table as an architectural object; the same section of the book handles macaroni and noodles the same way. Dish names honouring the duc de Choiseul, Louis XV's foreign minister, are conventionally attached to garnishes and preparations of this sort, though the link between the man and any particular formula is traditional rather than documented, and Ranhofer offers no explanation for it.