The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3016

Croquettes a la Trimalcion

Croquettes a la Trimalcion

Cut twelve apples in four, peel and core them, then cut into small dice; put them into a sautoir, pour over a few spoonfuls of butter and fry, and as soon as done remove from the fire and add a tablespoonful of sugar, a pinch of cinnamon, a handful of candied cherries cut in four and two spoonfuls of apricot marmalade (No. 3675); pour this on a baking sheet to cool off. Mold this preparation into inch and a quarter balls, shape them into cylindrical croquettes an inch in diameter, roll in cracker dust, dip in beaten eggs, then roll in bread-crumbs; smooth the breading with a knife and plunge the croquettes into hot frying fat; fry till they become a light golden color, then drain on a cloth; strew over powdered sugar and dress on a napkin. Serve with a saucetureen of cherry sauce prepared the same as for fried bananas with cherry sauce (No. 3003).

For the Modern Kitchen

A fried apple croquette from Ranhofer's dessert chapter: cooked apple bound with jam, breaded twice and deep-fried. The recipe's success rests entirely on how dry the apple mixture is before it is shaped.

A Little History

The name is a literary joke. Trimalchio is the vulgar, spectacularly rich freedman whose banquet fills the best-known surviving stretch of Petronius's Satyricon, a first-century Roman feast of dishes disguised as other dishes — a hare fitted with wings, a hog carved to spill sausages. Naming a fried sweet after him may well have been meant to suggest that kind of trompe-l'oeil, though the book itself says nothing of the intent: a savory-looking breaded croquette that turns out to be spiced apple and candied cherry. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, filled The Epicurean (1894) with such classical and courtly titles, partly because French haute cuisine of the period habitually named garnishes after patrons, places and figures from antiquity, and partly because a grand name was part of what a restaurant of that rank sold. The dish itself belongs to a large nineteenth-century family of sweet croquettes — rice, chestnut, semolina, fruit paste — that let a kitchen turn cooked leftovers into a hot entremets with nothing more than crumbs, egg and a fat kettle already at temperature.