The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3457

Rice Ice Cream with Citron, Garnished with Truffles

Creme de Riz et au Cedrat, Garnie de Truffes

Place eight egg-whites in a tinned basin with twelve ounces of sugar and four tablespoonfuls of rice flour; stir well together, adding a quart of boiling milk; cook without boiling on a slow fire, remove and when cold put in a pint of cream; pass through a sieve, freeze and then add half a pound of very finely shredded citron peel and half a pint of blanched rice cooked in syrup. Have it molded in a low Madeleine mold, and garnish around with imitation truffles prepared as follows:

Truffle Ice Cream.—This cream can only be made with fresh truffles. Brush over half a pound of fresh, fragrant truffles; peel, slice and infuse in a pint of boiling cream for thirty minutes. Drop twelve egg-yolks in a tinned basin with ten ounces of sugar; mix well together and then add one quart of cream, including that in which the truffles are being infused; cook the preparation without boiling, and add the truffles after pounding and passing them through a sieve. Freeze and mold in molds imitating whole truffles coated with chocolate; pack in ice. Chop up the truffle peelings very finely, mixing in a few vanilla seeds; dry in the open air, pass through a sieve and roll the unmolded imitation truffles in this powder. Use these truffles to decorate the above ice cream.

For the Modern Kitchen

Two frozen preparations in one entry: a rice-flour ice cream stiffened with candied citron and syrup-cooked rice, and a truffle custard ice cream molded into fake truffles to ring the base. Both are cooked custards, so the hinge is temperature control.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer wrote The Epicurean (1894) out of thirty-odd years at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry is a good example of what that kitchen was for: not a dish anyone needed, but a demonstration. The rice cream itself belongs to an older European family of crèmes de riz, where rice or rice flour gives a frozen sweet body and chew at a time when stabilizers meant starch, eggs or nothing. What sits on top is pure trompe-l'œil, the confectioner's habit of making one food impersonate another: a savory truffle custard, chilled, molded into truffle shapes, coated in chocolate and dusted with sifted truffle peel so that the imitation is made of the thing it imitates. Truffle in a sweet preparation was rare even in grand kitchens, a practice confined to houses that could afford to pound half a pound of them into cream.