The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 438

Bread Sauces, American, English, French, Reglain and German Fried

(Suces au Pain, Americaine, Anglaise, Francaise, Reglain et Frite a l'Allemande).

American.—Put into a saucepan one ounce of butter with one ounce of finely chopped onions, fry them lightly without coloring and moisten with a pint of boiling milk, add two ounces of bread-crumbs, salt, cayenne pepper and cloves, and just when ready to serve, add a little cream to finish. This sauce should be consistent and hot without boiling.

English is made exactly the same, only replacing the fried onions by a raw onion cut in four, and whole peppers instead of the cayenne.

French.—Chop up a shallot and a quarter of a clove of garlic, putting them in a saucepan with two gills of white wine; let simmer and reduce, adding two tablespoonfuls of very fine bread-crumbs, a little fresh butter, a dash of mignonette and grated nutmeg and two gills of broth, let reduce to half, then squeeze in some lemon juice and a teaspoonful of chopped parsley.

A la Reglain.—Set four gills of milk into a saucepan, adding two ounces of bread-crumbs and one shallot cut in small eighth inch squares, a whole clove of garlic, and let heat without boiling for a few minutes, seasoning with salt, a little cayenne and nutmeg, two ounces of butter, a teaspoonful of raw fine herbs, one gill of white wine and the juice of an orange.

Fried German.—Melt and heat gradually half a pound of butter so as to obtain a hazel-nut butter, incorporate into it three ounces of white bread-crumbs, cook it over a slow fire for a few minute without ceasing to stir, salt it lightly and take off the fire to pour into a hot sauce boat.

For the Modern Kitchen

Five bread sauces in one entry, all built on the same principle: starch from bread thickens a liquid without flour or roux. Ranhofer assumes you can read a French kitchen shorthand that has largely disappeared.

A Little History

Bread sauce belongs to an old family of thickeners: before roux became standard, cooks bound liquids with soaked crumb, almonds or egg. Its survival as the traditional English accompaniment to roast fowl is usually traced to medieval practice, where bread was both the thickener and, as a trencher, the plate. Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York and a Frenchman by training, is doing something characteristic of The Epicurean (1894) here: gathering the national variants of a single preparation into one numbered entry so a brigade cook could produce whichever the menu called for. The "American" version takes fried onion and cayenne, where the English leaves a quartered raw onion to infuse and pulls it out; the French and Reglain versions abandon the milk-and-onion idea almost entirely for wine, garlic and acid, which tells you how loosely the category was drawn. Reglain does not appear to correspond to any well-documented place or person, and is likely a house name of the sort Ranhofer scattered through the book.