The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3125

Glazed Apples

Pommes Glacees

Choose a few small, even-sized apples; empty the centers with a column tube five-eighths of an inch in diameter, peel and cook them in slightly sweetened acidulated water. In order to have them remain whole it is advisable to cook scarcely boiling, and to keep them covered. Drain and place them in a vessel, pouring a little syrup over; leave to cool. When cold drain and cover them several times with a brush dipped in lukewarm apricot marmalade (No. 3675) so that it adheres to the apples, and cover them completely; decorate around the tops with a circle of small dots of angelica. Fill the hole in the center with candied cherries or fruit jelly, such as quince, currant or apple, or use all mingled together; arrange the apples in a pyramid on a dish.

For the Modern Kitchen

A cold apple entremets from Ranhofer's The Epicurean, built on one technique: poaching whole peeled apples without letting them collapse. Everything after that is decoration.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York for over thirty years, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially the house repertoire written down — roughly twelve hundred pages of it, numbered and cross-referenced like a catalogue, which is why the apricot marmalade here is a citation rather than a recipe. Glazed fruits of this kind belong to the French entremets tradition Ranhofer trained in, where the dish was judged first by how it looked on the platter: whole fruit, lacquered to a shine with sieved apricot, studded with green angelica and red cherry, and stacked into a pyramid for the table. The apricot glaze itself is one of the oldest tricks in the pastry kitchen and remains standard on fruit tarts today, for the same two reasons — it seals the fruit against drying and it makes it gleam under candlelight or a chandelier. Angelica, the candied stem of Angelica archangelica, was the period's default green garnish and has largely dropped out of use since, which is the clearest mark of the recipe's age.