The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 397

Fumet of Partridge or Other Game

Fumet de Perdreaux ou d'autres Gibiers

Cut four ounces of onions into slices, put them into a well buttered saucepan with four ounces of sliced carrots, and lay on top eight ounces of sliced ham, four ounces of mushroom parings, two pounds of young rabbit and two pounds of partridge, add a pint of white wine and reduce to a glaze; moisten with a quart of broth (No. 187), cover the saucepan, and let boil and reduce on a brisk fire, moderating the heat when the liquid is reduced to three-quarters, then continue reducing until it has fallen again to a glaze. Add four quarts of game broth (No. 195), a tablespoonful of allspice (whole), a bunch of parsley garnished with celery, bay leaf, and thyme, and let cook for an hour and a half. Strain this through a napkin, put it back on the fire to clarify with two partridge breasts and one pound of lean veal, both well chopped; dilute it with half a bottle of white wine, stir well, and take it off the fire at the first boil; as soon as the fumet is very clear, strain it through a napkin.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a concentrated game essence in the Escoffier-era sense: a stock built on a double glaze, then clarified to absolute clarity so it can lift a sauce or a game consommé. The hinge is the two reductions to glaze before any of the four quarts of game broth goes in; skip them and you have thin broth rather than fumet.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of some thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and its opening chapters are a working catalogue of the foundations French cooking of the period was built on — broths, essences, glazes, roux. A fumet is literally a scent or savour: not a stock to be eaten on its own but a concentrate whose whole purpose is to be added to something else, sharpening a game sauce or giving backbone to a consommé of pheasant. The cross-references to Nos. 187 and 195 are the point of the system; a great deal was prepared in advance rather than at the moment of service, because a brigade cooking à la carte for a Manhattan dining room needed the flavour of a day's game cookery available in a saucepan within seconds. That partridge and wild rabbit could be assumed in such quantity says a good deal about the American market game trade of the 1880s and 90s, which supplied restaurants on a commercial scale before the Lacey Act and later state laws ended it.