The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 551

Truffle Sauce

Sauce aux Truffes

Moisten one pound of chicken parings with three pints of veloute stock (No. 422) and a quarter of a bottleful of white wine; add to it a bunch of parsley garnished with a bay leaf, and as much thyme, a quarter of a pound of minced carrots, four ounces of onions, one branch of celery and one coffeespoonful of whole peppers; let it all simmer for two hours, then strain through a sieve and reduce the sauce to half, skimming it well in the meanwhile; now add one quart of allemande sauce (No. 407), and reduce again with a quarter of a bottleful of white wine. Strain the whole through a tammy, and just when serving incorporate into the sauce four ounces of fresh butter and three ounces of peeled and minced truffles.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a Ranhofer sauce in the full nineteenth-century manner: a mother sauce reinforced with a second stock, reduced twice, then finished with butter and truffle. Nothing about it is difficult, but it assumes two other recipes are already in your refrigerator.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that restaurant's working system set down in print — which is why sauce No. 551 begins by referring you to Nos. 407 and 422. The numbered cross-reference is the whole architecture of French professional cooking as Car u00eame codified it: a handful of mother sauces, each spun off into dozens of named derivatives. Truffle sauces of this type, built on a white foundation rather than a brown one, are generally said to have been served with poultry, sweetbreads and quenelles, where a demi-glace would have overwhelmed the dish. The quantity of truffle is worth noting: three ounces used as a garnish, casually, in a book written when European black truffles arrived in New York in quantity and were, by most accounts, considerably cheaper in real terms than they are now.