The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3157

Crown a la Choiseul

Couronne a la Choiseul

Cook in a plain shallow and narrow border mold some almond biscuit, the same as for No. 3229. Unmold it on a small baking sheet and let get cold. Then cover over with apricot marmalade (No. 3675) and decorate it all around with fancy cuts of candied fruits. Incrust in pounded ice another border mold more fanciful and slightly wider than the one used for the biscuit; decorate the bottom of it with candied fruits and cover this with a layer of orange jelly (No. 3180). When hard slip the biscuit into this mold upside down, and fill the empty space between the mold and the biscuit with more of the cold jelly. One hour after dip the mold in hot water and wipe and invert the dessert on a cold dish; fill the center with a pyramid of quartered oranges pared to the pulp, the pith and seeds extracted and then macerated in sugar. Dress this pyramid in layers, pouring some thick orange peel syrup between each one.

For the Modern Kitchen

A composed jelly-and-sponge ring from Delmonico's dessert repertoire, built in two stages: a baked almond sponge ring glazed with apricot, then set inside a slightly larger jelly-lined ring. Nothing here is difficult, but the order of operations is the whole recipe.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and its cold entremets section is the most Parisian part of the book: molded jellies, charlottes and bavarois built in numbered, cross-referenced components, so that a single dessert like this one draws on three other recipes by number. The name follows the classical French habit of attaching an aristocratic title to a garnish or presentation — Choiseul is a French ducal house best known through Étienne-François, duc de Choiseul, foreign minister to Louis XV — though as with most such names the connection to the dish is honorific rather than documented, and cooks of Ranhofer's generation used them chiefly as shorthand for a fixed set of components. What the recipe really demonstrates is the nineteenth-century restaurant kitchen's command of ice: a pastry cook with a packed ice chest could set clear jelly around a sponge in layers, decorate the bottom of a mold knowing it would become the top, and send out something that looked architectural on a warm dining room table.