The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 514

Sauce a la Palermitaine

Sauce a la Palermitaine

Place all together in a saucepan one ounce of cooked, minced ham, one ounce of chopped pignolas, one clove of garlic, one gill of oil, eight tomatoes washed, cut across in two and well pressed, a bunch of parsley garnished with as much bay leaf as thyme, mignonette, nutmeg and two cloves. Let all cook, then drain, and strain forcibly through a fine sieve, reduce together both the broth and puree, adding to it two gills of white wine, a teaspoonful of sugar, three gills of broth, one quart of allemande (No. 407), four ounces of butter, and the pulp of a lemon.

For the Modern Kitchen

A Delmonico's kitchen sauce written for a brigade, not a home cook: it assumes you already have a quart of sauce allemande standing by. Read it as two operations — a tomato-and-aromatic base cooked down in oil, then that base mounted into a finished velouté.

A Little History

The recipe comes from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the enormous compendium he assembled after some three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and it sits in a chapter of well over a hundred hot sauces, all built on a handful of mother sauces so a brigade could turn out dozens of variations from stock preparations. The name points to Palermo, and the Sicilian markers are on the page: olive oil rather than butter as the cooking fat, garlic, tomato, and pine nuts. But the construction is entirely French — the mixture sieved, reduced with wine and broth, then folded into sauce allemande and mounted with butter, so what reaches the plate is a velouté. That is often said to have been the usual nineteenth-century approach to regional names in a grand-restaurant repertoire: a dish was called a la Palermitaine or a la Portugaise for its flavourings, not its method, and the underlying technique stayed French throughout.