No. 3151

Cream of Rice with Angelica

Creme de Riz a l'Angelique

Pick and wash four ounces of good rice and cook it till tender (keeping the grains whole) with a pint and a half of milk into which has been added half a split vanilla bean; pour it at once into a basin. Put into another vessel six egg-yolks, stir in six ounces of powdered sugar, and dilute with half a pint of boiling milk; pour this into a saucepan to thicken over the fire, and then add two ounces of gelatine softened in cold water, and as soon as the gelatine is dissolved strain the whole over the rice and mix well without stirring the rice more than necessary. At the same time incorporate four ounces of angelica previously washed in hot water, cut in small three-sixteenths of an inch dice, and steeped in maraschino. Set the preparation on ice to get thoroughly cold, and as soon as it begins to thicken stir in as much whipped cream; pour the whole into a plain cylindrical mold (Fig. 150), and keep it on ice for two hours. Unmold on a cold dish, and garnish around with lady bouchees (No. 3376).

← No. 3150 Malakoff Cream Cold Entremets — Creams, Jellies & Charlottes No. 3152 Spanish Cream →

For the Modern Kitchen

A gelatine-set rice cream in the Delmonico manner: vanilla rice pudding lightened with whipped cream and studded with candied angelica. Two things decide whether it works — the custard must not curdle, and the gelatine quantity must be recalculated for modern products.

Gelatine is the critical conversionTwo ounces of nineteenth-century gelatine is not the same as two ounces of modern powdered gelatine, which is generally stronger and more consistent. Something in the region of 1/2 oz (two 1/4-oz envelopes) will set a cream of this size firmly enough to unmold; the original amount would likely give something much rubberier.
Do not let the custard boilSix yolks with a half pint of boiling milk thickens at 180-185F. Take it off as soon as it coats the spoon, then stir in the softened gelatine off the heat so it dissolves without scorching. If it breaks, no amount of chilling will recover the texture.
AngelicaCandied stems of Angelica archangelica — the bright green confection once sold everywhere for cake decoration, still made in Niort. Look for it at baking suppliers or online; candied citron or candied ginger is the nearest substitute in texture, though the flavor is different. Washing in hot water removes surface syrup so the dice do not weep into the cream.
MeasuresA pint and a half of milk for 4 oz rice is 3 cups to a generous 1/2 cup rice — loose enough that the grains stay whole and separate rather than collapsing into pudding. Six ounces of powdered sugar is a scant cup of superfine, not confectioners' sugar with its cornstarch.
"As much whipped cream"Ranhofer probably means an equal volume to the thickening rice mixture, which is a great deal of cream; a smaller quantity, 1 1/2 to 2 cups of heavy cream whipped to soft peaks, will still lighten it. Fold it in the moment the base begins to set, not before, or the cream and rice separate in the mold.
The moldThe recipe specifies only a plain cylindrical mold; use one large enough to hold the whole mixture. Rinse it in cold water rather than oiling it, and unmold by dipping the base briefly in warm water. Two hours on ice is a minimum; overnight in the refrigerator is safer for a cream this size.
Yield and garnishEnough for eight to ten as a cold entremets, though Ranhofer gives no yield. The lady bouchées of No. 3376 are small sponge cakes; store-bought ladyfingers set upright around the base give a similar effect.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry shows the house style of cold sweets: a homely base — rice and milk — raised to a service dish by custard, gelatine, whipped cream and a liqueur-soaked garnish. Angelica had been a standard confectioner's ingredient in France since at least the eighteenth century, the hollow stems blanched and candied in syrup until they turned the vivid green that made them useful for imitating leaves and stems on pastry; the town of Niort in Poitou is still generally credited with the finest. Maraschino here is the Dalmatian cherry liqueur, not the sweet syrup that later took the name in America. Rice creams of this kind belonged to the long list of interchangeable molded entremets a large kitchen kept on rotation — Ranhofer places it between a Malakoff cream and a Spanish cream, all built on the same technique with the flavoring swapped out.}