The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3594

Hen with Chicks; Nest with Eggs (poule Avec Poussins; Nid Garni d'

Œufs

Prepare a sponge cake stand (No. 3260) or one of wood or office paste (No. 143), eleven and a quarter inches long by eight and a quarter inches wide; cover it with coffee or chocolate icing. Make a nest of spun sugar, on which place here and there small bits of angelica; in the center set the stand. Mold the hen in burnt almond ice cream (No. 3455), spotted over with coffee, chocolate, vanilla, etc., to imitate the different shadings of the bird. Pack it in ice and freeze for one hour; unmold and dress it on the stand, surrounded with small chicks, made also of ice cream, the same as the larger one.

For the nest (Fig. 720), prepare a round nest, the same as Fig. 719, only smaller; fill with small eggs made of assorted ice cream.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is an assembly plan rather than a recipe: Ranhofer assumes you already have the ice cream, the sugar work and the base at hand, and tells you only how to put them together. The cross-references do most of the work, so the notes below fill in what a modern cook has to supply.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of thirty-odd years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and its final sections are given over to pièces montées — the constructed showpieces that closed a formal nineteenth-century banquet. A hen brooding over ice-cream chicks belongs to a long line of trompe-l'œil frozen work that runs back through Carême and the French office, the cold pantry where ices, sugar work and confections were made by a separate brigade from the kitchen proper. Molded ices shaped as animals, fruit and game birds fill many pages of the book, and the fact that Ranhofer gives dimensions to the quarter-inch says a good deal about how these pieces were built: to a plan, by a specialist, for a table where the dessert was expected to be looked at before it was eaten. Easter and spring menus are the obvious occasion for a hen and nest, though Ranhofer, characteristically, does not bother to say so.