The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3554

Harlequin Ice Cream

Glace Arlequin

This ice is molded in four triangular-shaped molds; fill one with coffee ice cream (No. 3463), another with vanilla (No. 3458), another with pistachio (No. 3454) and the fourth with strawberry ice (No. 3607). Imbed and freeze for half an hour, then unmold. Put them in a brick-shaped mold three inches square. The triangles should be two inches on one side by an inch and a half in height. The mold should be eight inches long. Place the triangles in the mold, as shown in Fig. 686, having the vanilla at the bottom, one side the strawberry, the other the pistachio and keeping the coffee on the top. Press the cover down well so no empty space remains and freeze for half an hour. Now mold some chocolate ice cream in spherical molds an inch and a quarter in diameter, freeze for half an hour and unmold the whole. Cut the brick up in slices with a special knife (Fig. 700) dipped in hot water, and place each one on a four-inch square sheet of lace paper; fasten the chocolate drops exactly on the center and put them into a freezing box for half an hour before serving. All creams that are to be cut should be laid on a small board so as to facilitate cutting and removing them, and to keep them in good shape.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is an assembly recipe rather than a formula: four finished ice creams plus a fifth for the garnish, built into a striped block. Read it as a diagram, and make the components from whatever reliable custard and fruit-ice recipes you already trust.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of what he cooked during three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and its ices chapter is closer to an architecture manual than a dessert list: molded bombes, fruit-shaped ices, striped bricks with named patterns. The name comes from Arlecchino, the commedia dell'arte servant whose costume was a patchwork of colored triangles and diamonds, so arlequin came to describe any dish of contrasting colors set side by side; the tricolor Neapolitan brick, another striped ice, survived into the supermarket freezer long after this sort of thing disappeared from restaurant kitchens. Building it at all depended on the salt-and-ice technology of a nineteenth-century professional kitchen, where a half-hour setting time in a buried mold was perfectly ordinary.