The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3211

Valois Pudding

Pouding a la Valois

Make a Neapolitan cake paste (No. 3250), and roll it out with a rolling pin to the thickness of an eighth of an inch; cut from this sixty rounds, each an inch in diameter; lay them on a baking sheet and cook in a brisk oven. Also have prepared at the same time a salpicon of preserved fruits composed of greengages, dates and pineapple, the whole cut in dice, and some cherries (demisucre). Prepare also an English cream (No. 42) with twelve egg-yolks, twelve ounces of sugar, a pint of cream and a pint of milk. As soon as finished add to it three gelatine leaves previously softened in cold water and stir the preparation until the gelatine is thoroughly dissolved. Then add to it six ounces of roasted hazel-nuts pounded with a gill of milk; pass the whole through a fine sieve into a tinned basin, and leave it on ice to cool partly. Incrust a timbale mold in chopped ice, pour on the bottom a layer of the preparation, leave it to set, and on it scatter the fruits; over this pour another layer of the cream, then on top arrange a bed of the round cakes, afterward more cream, and then more fruits, continuing the process until the mold is entirely full. Leave the pudding on ice for an hour and a half. Serve with a cold English vanilla cream sauce (No. 42).

For the Modern Kitchen

A moulded, gelatine-set crème anglaise layered with candied fruit and small baked biscuits — Ranhofer's construction rather than a batter pudding. The hinge is the custard: cook it to 180F and no further, or the yolks curdle and no amount of sieving will save the texture.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of what came out of the Delmonico's kitchens in New York, and its cold entremets section runs to dozens of moulded creams distinguished less by technique than by name — Renaissance immediately before this one, a pyramid of meringues immediately after. "À la Valois" invokes the French royal house that preceded the Bourbons, part of a long kitchen habit of dressing an assembly of custard, candied fruit and biscuit in dynastic or courtly livery; the name signals grandeur rather than any documented connection to the sixteenth century. What the recipe genuinely records is the economics of ice. Packing a mould in chopped ice, setting one thin layer at a time, and holding the finished pudding for ninety minutes was routine in a restaurant with an ice-house and a brigade to tend it, and considerably harder to manage in a domestic kitchen of the same decade.