The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 537

Shallot Sauce and Shallot Gravy

Sauce a l'Echalote et Jus a l'Echalote

Blanch in boiling salted water three finely chopped shallots, placing them in the corner of a napkin; afterward cook them in a gill of consomme (No. 189); reduce this latter until dry, then add to it one gill of veloute (No. 415). Now pound four hard boiled egg-yolks with six ounces of butter; put the preparation into a saucepan, and stir it while heating till it becomes very hot, then season with salt, mignonette and lemon juice; if too thick add a little water and then strain it through a tammy (No. 159), and mix in a coffeespoonful of chopped parsley; stir it into the above prepared sauce.

Shallot Gravy.—Put eight minced shallots, a small bay leaf, some thyme and branches of parsley in a saucepan, moisten with two gills of clear gravy (No. 404) and let all cook for ten minutes on the corner of the range; strain through a napkin, and keep the sauce warm in a bain-marie until needed.

For the Modern Kitchen

Two related preparations: a rich shallot butter sauce built on velouté, and a plain shallot-infused gravy. Both assume Ranhofer's numbered stock and sauce recipes are already on hand.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) codified the kitchen of Delmonico's in New York, where he was chef for over thirty years, and it is organised the way a professional brigade worked: every sauce cross-references a stock or mother sauce made elsewhere in the book, so that nothing is built from scratch at service. That structure explains the terseness here. The two preparations also show the French distinction the book takes for granted -- a sauce, thickened and enriched with butter and egg yolk, against a jus, which is simply a good gravy given ten minutes of aromatic infusion and strained clear. Shallots are often said to have been the aromatic of choice for sauces served with grilled meat, preferred over onion for their milder, sweeter bite; blanching them first, as here, takes off the raw edge that would otherwise dominate a delicate velouté.