A cold, uncooked sweet-sour sauce of the kind Ranhofer sent out with cold game and ham. It takes five minutes and lives or dies on the balance of acid to sugar.
- MignonetteNot the flower and not a shallot preparation: in Ranhofer's usage mignonette is coarsely cracked white or mixed peppercorns, ground far coarser than table pepper. A heavy pinch is roughly half a teaspoon; crack it in a mortar rather than a mill so the grains stay uneven.
- Pulverized sugarNineteenth-century pulverized sugar was sugar ground or pounded fine, without the cornstarch added to modern confectioners' sugar, which will cloud the sauce; superfine (caster) sugar dissolves just as readily and stays clear.
- MustardThe recipe does not specify prepared or dry; prepared French mustard is the likelier reading of two teaspoonfuls. If you use dry English mustard, start with a scant teaspoon and let it stand ten minutes, since it develops heat as it hydrates.
- "Dilute sufficiently"The original never says with what. Water is the neutral choice; a little cold cooking liquor from the meat it accompanies would also serve, though the book gives no indication. Add it a spoonful at a time until the sauce coats a spoon like thin syrup.
- Citrus quantityYields vary with the fruit; four lemons and two oranges will give something in the region of 3/4 cup lemon juice and 1/3 to 1/2 cup orange. Measure rather than count, and adjust the sugar to taste.
- Strain and restPass the juice through a fine sieve before mixing so no pulp or pip goes into the boat, and let the finished sauce stand half an hour so the sugar fully dissolves and the pepper perfumes it. Whisk again before serving.
- Yield and serviceAbout a cup and a half, enough for eight to ten. Serve it cold with cold ham, tongue, boar's head, venison or any roast game eaten at room temperature; it is far too sharp for hot roast meat.
Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's for over thirty years, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a complete record of the restaurant's repertoire, and its cold-sauce chapter is largely a catalogue of accompaniments for the buffet and the cold game table. Some sauces labelled a la polonaise in French kitchens of the period were sweet-sour preparations, the sweetness coming from sugar, raisins or honey and the acid from vinegar or citrus, though the term more often denoted a garnish of browned crumbs and chopped egg; the sweet-sour style is often traced to the Central and Eastern European taste for fruit and sugar with roast meat rather than to any single Polish original. The neighbouring entry, No. 622 Raisin Sauce, belongs to the same family, and both were meant for the cold ham, tongue and boar's head that anchored a nineteenth-century supper table.