The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 706

Puree of Beans Bretonne

Puree de Haricots Bretonne

Mince half a pound of onions; set them in a saucepan with four ounces of butter, a bunch of parsley garnished with bay leaf, garlic, thyme and salt; let fry slowly, browning the onions slightly. Let one pound of white beans soak for twelve hours, then boil them with two ounces of butter added, and when nearly done, drain and pound them in a mortar with the onions, suppressing the parsley; add a pint of bechamel (No. 409), two gills of double cream, and two tablespoonfuls of chicken glaze (No. 398); press through a tammy (No. 170) and add two ounces of butter at the very last moment.

For the Modern Kitchen

A Delmonico's-era vegetable purée meant as a garnish under or beside roast meat, not as a soup. Two things carry it: the beans must be soft enough to break down completely, and the finishing butter must go in off the heat.

A Little History

À la bretonne is one of the older regional tags in French cookery, and it almost always signals white beans: Brittany and the neighbouring Vendée were long associated with the haricot, and the classic garnish for a leg of mutton is still haricots à la bretonne, beans in an onion-and-tomato base. Charles Ranhofer, who ran the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York for some three decades and published The Epicurean in 1894, files this among his garnishings rather than his vegetables — in a restaurant of that scale a purée was a component, spooned onto the plate beneath a saddle of lamb or a roast bird, and the cross-references to a numbered béchamel and a numbered chicken glaze show a kitchen where the foundations were made in bulk each morning. The enrichment here is enormous by any standard: eight ounces of butter, a cup of cream and a pint of béchamel to a single pound of beans, which tells you plainly what a peasant legume became once it passed through a Gilded Age brigade.