The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3158

Crown Printaniere

Couronne Printaniere

Butter a large Savarin mold, line it with fine flawn paste (No. 135), and cut this off just level with the edge of the mold; cover over the inside with buttered paper and fill it up with cherry pips or dry rice to hold the paste in shape, and cook the crust to a fine color; empty it out as soon as done, unmold and brush over with beaten eggs, push it into a quick oven to attain a good golden color, then leave till cold. Make a fresh fruit macedoine composed of candied cherries (demi-sucre), strawberries and raspberries, quarters of well-pared oranges and a few red currants; besprinkle these fruits with powdered sugar, pour over some maraschino and let macerate for one hour. One moment before serving cover the inside of the croustade with apricot jam, and filling it level with the top with the fruits mask them with currant jelly (No. 3670) and slip it on a dish. Pile the center high with whipped cream and arrange around the crown a circle of handsome greengages and candied cherries (demi-sucre), then serve.

For the Modern Kitchen

A blind-baked pastry ring filled with liqueur-steeped fruit and crowned with whipped cream — Ranhofer's assembly work rather than a cooking project. Almost everything here hinges on timing: the crust and the fruit meet only at the last moment.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) records the repertoire he cooked at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry is characteristic of its cold-entremets chapter: no new technique, just an architecture assembled from parts catalogued elsewhere in the book, cross-referenced by number the way a workshop manual refers to standard components. The name is descriptive rather than commemorative — couronne for the crown shape the ring mold produces, printaniere for the spring, though the actual fruit list of strawberries, raspberries, currants and greengages runs well into summer. The Savarin mold is traditionally said to take its name from Brillat-Savarin, the gastronomic writer, by way of the yeast cake Parisian pastry cooks are said to have named in his honour in the middle of the nineteenth century; by Ranhofer's day the mold had detached from the cake and become general-purpose. Serving fresh fruit steeped in maraschino inside a baked shell was a way of demonstrating a kitchen's access to out-of-season and imported goods — candied cherries, oranges, a Dalmatian liqueur — all on one dish.