The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3231

Savoy Biscuit

Biscuit de Savoie

Grease a high biscuit mold with melted prepared veal kidney suet; drain off any surplus fat by reversing the mold, then glaze with sugar icing and fecula, half of each. Pour into a vessel one pound of powdered sugar flavored with vanilla (No. 3165) and a pinch of salt, add fourteen egg-yolks one at a time and beat the whole forcibly to have it get quite frothy; whip fourteen egg-whites to a stiff froth, and put a fourth part into the yolks, also six ounces of potato fecula and six ounces of flour, the two latter to be sifted together. As soon as the whole is thoroughly combined add the remainder of the beaten whites. With this fill the mold three-quarters full and stand it on a baking pan; fix it so that the mold will not fall; place it carefully in the mildest spot in the oven. In order to bake this biscuit properly it is essential that the oven be first thoroughly heated, then allowed to fall to a mild temperature; leave it in for two and a quarter to two and a half hours. When done to perfection unmold on a grate, cool, pare very straight and dress on a dish; surround the base with a circle of lady bouchees iced with vanilla (No. 3376).

For the Modern Kitchen

A very large fatless sponge — a pound of sugar and twenty-eight eggs' worth of structure — baked slowly in a tall mold. The whole thing stands or falls on how the whites are folded in and how gently it bakes.

A Little History

Biscuit de Savoie is traditionally traced to the court of Savoy in the fourteenth century, where a cook to Amadeus VI is said to have built a light cake for a visiting emperor — a story repeated in pastry books far more often than it is documented. What is certain is that by the eighteenth century the Savoy biscuit was the standard European example of a sponge raised by eggs alone, and the recipe here is a professional's version of it: no butter, no chemical leavening, half the flour replaced by potato starch to keep the crumb dry enough to serve with ices, creams, and fruit. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, printed it in The Epicurean (1894) among the "large cakes for entremets" — cakes meant to arrive whole at table late in a long dinner, dressed on a dish and surrounded with small iced pastries. The instruction to heat the oven hard and then let it fall is the clearest trace of the equipment he worked with: a brick oven had no thermostat, only a falling curve of stored heat that a pastry cook learned to read.</body>