The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3540

Asparagus

Asperges

Cook one pound of asparagus tops in plenty of unsalted water; drain and lay them in a tinned basin with ten egg-yolks and twelve ounces of sugar; mix thoroughly, incorporating a pint of boiling milk; cook this preparation without allowing to boil, and put aside to cool, then add a pint of cream; color a third part to a pale green; strain through a sieve, and freeze the parts separately. With this ice fill some asparagus-shaped molds, the stalks or third part to be of the green ice, and the remainder white. Freeze the molds for half an hour, unmold, tie in bunches of three with a pink ribbon, and dress on napkins. Serve separately a sauce made of vanilla ice cream (No. 3458), whipped cream (No. 50) and maraschino. Asparagus can also be imitated by filling the molds with pistachio (No. 3454) and vanilla ice cream (No. 3458), and serving the same as the above.

For the Modern Kitchen

A trompe-l'oeil dessert: a rich custard ice flavored with asparagus, frozen in hinged pewter molds and presented as tied bunches of spears. The cooking is straightforward French custard work; the difficulty is entirely in the molding.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York, and The Epicurean (1894) is the record of what a great American restaurant could do when money and labor were not the constraint. Vegetable ices were not a novelty in his world — European confectioners had made savory-flavored ices, celery among them, well before the nineteenth century, when the line between savory and sweet in frozen work was less firmly drawn — but the point here is the illusion rather than the flavor. This belongs to the tradition of the surprise dish, in which the dessert course impersonates something from earlier in the meal; the entry immediately following in the same section is bananas in surprise. The alternative given at the end, filling the same molds with ordinary pistachio and vanilla, tells you plainly which part of the exercise Ranhofer thought mattered: the bunch, the ribbon, and the napkin.