The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3296

Cream Cakes with Whipped Cream or St. Honore Cream

Choux a la Creme Fouettee ou a la Creme St. Honore

With some cream cake paste (No. 132) pushed through a socket pocket dress on a lightly buttered baking sheet some small round cakes, an inch and a half in diameter; cover over with powdered sugar and leave stand for a few moments, then remove all the sugar that has failed to adhere to the paste; push into a very slack oven to cook. Detach them from the pan as soon as done and split open the side to fill with pastry cream (No. 46), or whipped cream flavored with vanilla (No. 50). They can also be filled through the top by making an opening and placing the cover on upside down. Push a small string of royal icing (No. 101) around the edge all around the opening. Dredge over some fine pink colored sugar (No. 172) and fill the insides with St. Honore cream (No. 49) pushed in through a pocket.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer's cross-referenced numbers make this look more complicated than it is: these are small cream puffs, piped, baked, and filled. The one instruction worth arguing with is the oven.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York for some three decades, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially his working system set down in print — hence the dense web of cross-references, each component recipe numbered once and called on wherever needed. The St. Honoré cream here carries the name of the gâteau Saint-Honoré, usually traced to the Paris pâtissier Chiboust, whose shop stood on the rue Saint-Honoré in the 1840s, though the attribution is traditional rather than documented and is sometimes given instead to a pastry cook in his employ; Saint Honoratus of Amiens is the patron of bakers, so the street and the trade share a namesake. That a New York restaurant kitchen was turning out choux à la crème fouettée by the tray in the 1890s says a good deal about how completely French pastry had colonised the American luxury table — the section they sit in, "Small Cakes for Entremets," keeps the French service term entremets untranslated.