The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2989

Timbale of Noodles a la Pearsall

Timbale de Nouilles a la Pearsall

Make some noodle paste the same as for No. 142; roll it out a sixteenth of an inch thick and leave it dry slightly, then cut into very thin fillets and cook these in salted water for one minute; drain and season with salt, pepper and nutmeg, add six egg-yolks, a quarter of a pound of butter and a quarter of a pound of parmesan cheese. Garnish a timbale mold measuring five by five inches with foundation paste (No. 135), line the bottom and side with buttered paper, fill with rice, place a round of buttered paper on top, moisten the upper edge, cover over with a lid of paste and cook in a moderate oven for an hour. Unmold when cold, bread-crumb and egg over twice, mark it on the top half an inch from the edge and fry in white frying fat; remove the cover and empty out the timbale. Fry in butter one ounce of finely chopped onions with half a pound of minced mushrooms, add salt, pepper, nutmeg, meat glaze (No. 402) and tomato sauce (No. 549). Arrange the noodles in the timbale in layers separated with the mushrooms and grated parmesan. Pour over some gravy (No. 404) reduced with espagnole sauce (No. 414) and the timbale is ready to serve.

Sweet Entremets

SWEET ENTREMETS-HOT (Entremets de Douceur-Chauds).

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a grand-service showpiece: a fried pastry drum, hollowed out, filled with buttered noodles and mushrooms, and sauced at the table. The pastry case is architecture, not dinner, and most of the work is in getting it out of the mold intact.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of some thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and the timbale case is one of its signatures: a paste shell baked blind over rice, fried, hollowed and filled at the last moment, so the kitchen could send out something that looked like a drum and ate like pasta. The word timbale is generally traced to the same root as the drum of that name, by way of Arabic through Spanish, and by the nineteenth century it covered both the vessel and anything molded in it. Dishes in this book carrying a family name -- "a la Pearsall" here -- may well point to a patron or an occasion, but Ranhofer does not explain them. Noodles bound with yolks, butter and parmesan place the filling in the Italian tradition that reached American hotel kitchens through French cooking, and it sits in the book immediately after a Milanese timbale of macaroni or noodles (No. 2988).