The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 385

Duxelle, or Cooked Fine Herbs

Duxelle ou Fines Herbes Cuites

Put four ounces of scraped fat pork and butter into a saucepan, and when well melted add to it six ounces of either chopped or one-eighth of inch pieces of shallot, a clove of crushed and chopped garlic, let these ingredients fry without coloring, adding half a pound of raw, finely chopped mushrooms; set it on the fire, and reduce while stirring continuously until the moisture from the mushrooms be entirely evaporated, then add an ounce of chopped parsley washed and pressed out; an ounce of chopped truffles may be added, but this is optional. If it needs to be thickened add to it half a pint of demi-glaze sauce (No. 413), and reduce until it acquires a consistency.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer's duxelles is a working larder preparation rather than a dish: a dark, dry mushroom paste held in the cold room and spooned into stuffings, sauces and gratins all week. Everything depends on driving off the mushroom water.

A Little History

Duxelles is generally traced to the seventeenth-century cook François Pierre de La Varenne, who is said to have named it for his employer, the Marquis d'Uxelles — a traditional attribution rather than a documented one, since La Varenne's own books do not use the word. By the time Charles Ranhofer set down The Epicurean in 1894 after three decades at Delmonico's in New York, it had long since become plumbing: one of the numbered auxiliaries a large brigade made in quantity each morning and drew on all service. That is why it sits in this chapter alongside the stocks and essences rather than among the finished dishes, and why the entry is written as a ratio to be scaled rather than a recipe with a yield. The pork fat in the base is the older, more frugal form; kitchens are often said to have dropped it later for butter alone, but it gave the mixture keeping power in a cold room that was cold only by ice.