The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3212

Pyramid of Meringues

Buisson de Meringues

Meringues make a delicious dessert. They should be small but of even size and specially of a beautiful golden color; besides they must be exceedingly dry. Select about twenty of the prettiest cold shells; use a small spoon to fill them with good whipped cream (No. 50) sweetened with vanilla sugar (No. 3165); fasten these shells, two by two together, and keep them for two hours in a cool place before dressing them in a pyramid on a napkin.

For the Modern Kitchen

An assembly rather than a bake: Ranhofer assumes you already have a tray of meringue shells and a bowl of sweetened whipped cream, and spends his words on how they should look. The points below fill in what he took for granted.

A Little History

Buisson means bush or thicket, and in nineteenth-century French service it named any dish built up into a tall cone or pyramid — a buisson d'écrevisses of crayfish, a buisson of glazed fruit, or this one of meringues. The point was architecture: the grand dinner of Charles Ranhofer's era, spent at Delmonico's in New York, was judged partly on the height and symmetry of what stood on the table, and a folded napkin gave the cook a grippy, disposable plinth. Meringue itself is recorded in French print by the 1690s, in Massialot, and was long a specialty of the pastry-cook rather than the home kitchen, since it demanded an oven cool enough to dry sugar and egg white for hours without coloring them. That The Epicurean (1894) devotes a numbered entry to what is essentially two meringues stuck together with cream says less about difficulty than about the encyclopedic ambition of the book, which catalogues every form a dish could take on the table.