Eight ounces of truffles cut in small slices, heated in Madeira wine and some meat glaze (No. 401). Sixteen ounces of foies-gras of either duck or goose, weighing in all about a pound. Thirty-two pieces of stuffed Spanish olives. Mingle these garnishings together in a sautoire, and add one quart of supreme sauce (No. 547), and at the very last moment add two ounces of very fine butter.
This is not a dish but a component: one of the standardized garnishes Ranhofer kept on file at Delmonico's, to be spooned into a vol-au-vent or over poached poultry or sweetbreads. It assumes you have his numbered sauces on hand.
Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894) devotes a whole section to garnitures because that is how a nineteenth-century professional kitchen was organized: the cook built a named garnish, then attached it to whatever the menu required, so a single formula could serve as chicken Chevreuse, sweetbreads Chevreuse or a Chevreuse vol-au-vent. Like many such names, Chevreuse points to a French place and title rather than to any inventor, and the attribution is conventional rather than documented. The contents are pure luxury shorthand for the Delmonico's dining room where Ranhofer presided for three decades: truffle, foie gras and a cream-finished velouté — supplying richness — with the Spanish olive supplying the one bright, briny note in an otherwise very rich spoonful.