Butter some small tin hexagonal-shaped molds with clarified butter; fill them about three-quarters full with Savarin paste (No. 148); stand them in a mild temperature to have the paste rise as high as the edge, then cook in a moderate oven. Remove and unmold as soon as done; leave to cool and afterward dip each one in a syrup of almond milk (No. 4) with kirsch.
A yeast-raised savarin baked small and steeped in almond syrup. Ranhofer assumes you have his cross-referenced pastes and syrups to hand, so the two numbered references are the whole substance of the recipe.
The name is generally traced to Gorenflot, the gluttonous monk of Alexandre Dumas's La Dame de Monsoreau (1846), whose appetite made him a byword in nineteenth-century France; the small hexagonal cakes are said to echo the shape of his habit's cowl or of the wine cask he was rarely far from, though the connection is traditional rather than documented. What is certain is the family the cake belongs to: the yeast-raised, syrup-steeped savarin, itself a mid-nineteenth-century Parisian reworking of the baba, named for the gastronomic writer Brillat-Savarin. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a working reference for professional kitchens, which is why a recipe like this one is three sentences long and leans on numbered cross-references for the dough and the syrup. Goronflots sit in his chapter of small cakes for entremets, the sweet course served between the roast and the dessert proper in a formal service à la russe menu.