The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3635

Cornucopia, Horn of Plenty

Corne d'Abondance

This cornucopia is molded in a mold the shape of Fig. 751. It is made of pulled sugar (No. 3618), remelted and rolled out with a roller--this must be done very quickly--or else it can be made of white nougat (No. 3622) decorated with royal icing (No. 101) or of gum paste (No. 3624). Fasten it on the opening side on a nougat surtout, and support the body of the cornucopia by fastening two rests molded in gum paste in a two-piece mold, and place a wire in the center of each; attach the two pieces together and let get very dry. The cornucopia is surmounted by a gum paste Cupid; the inside border of the opening of the dish is made of pulled sugar and is composed of rings, with smaller ones of a darker color placed inside of one another; bend them lightly to spread open on sheets of tin, then fasten them to the inside border of the dish with cooked sugar; between each one arrange a lozenge of glazed angelica. The opening of the cornucopia is filled with candied fruits, or else others made of chestnut or almond paste (No. 125), and glazed with sugar cooked to "crack" (No. 171). This piece may be made of white gum paste (No. 3624) and decorated with gold reliefs, or it may be utilized by replacing the fruits with fruits imitated in cream or water ices.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is an assembly instruction rather than a formula: nearly every component lives at another number in The Epicurean, and Ranhofer assumes a pastry cook who already has pulled sugar, nougat and gum paste on the bench. What follows is what a modern confectioner needs to know before attempting it.

A Little History

The cornucopia — corne d'abondance, the horn spilling fruit that classical tradition attached to the goat Amalthea — was standard iconography for abundance long before it was standard confectionery, and by the nineteenth century it was among the recurring subjects of the pastry cook's repertoire of pièces montées, alongside temples, harps, baskets and swan chariots. Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York for some three decades, worked in the tradition Carême had codified earlier in the century, in which the architectural sugar centerpiece served as visible proof of a kitchen's standing; pieces of this kind were built in advance and set out to be looked at rather than eaten. That the recipe ends by offering to fill the horn with cream or water ices instead of candied fruit at least suggests an interest in centerpieces that could actually be served.