The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 72

Codfish Forcemeat for Stuffing Fish

Farce de Morue Fraiche Pour Farcir les Poissons

Chop up finely one pound of codfish free of bone and skin. Break three eggs in a saucepan, season with salt and pepper and add one gill of cream and a teaspoonful of butter, cook on the fire stirring the same as for scrambled eggs, let this cool, have also two ounces of bread crumbs soaked in milk and well squeezed. Put four ounces of butter in a sautoire with two finely chopped shallots, fry without coloring, then add the fish, four ounces of mushrooms and an ounce of truffles both to be finely chopped; season with half an ounce of spiced salt (No. 168), and into it stir the scrambled eggs and the bread crumbs. Cover the saucepan and cook in the oven for an hour, after removing beat in a spoonful of chopped parsley and four raw egg-yolks. This preparation can also be used for rissoles and coulibiacs.

For the Modern Kitchen

A rich fish forcemeat from Ranhofer's Delmonico's kitchen, meant to be packed into a whole boned fish before it is baked or braised. It reads oddly because it is built in three separate stages that are only combined at the end.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the Delmonico's kitchens in New York for over thirty years and published The Epicurean in 1894 as a complete record of that cooking, French in method and vocabulary even when the fish came off American docks. The "Elementary Methods" chapters gather the building blocks a professional brigade needed on hand: stocks, garnishes, and a long series of numbered forcemeats like this one, each cross-referenced so a cook could assemble a dish from parts. Farce — the same root as the theatrical sense, meaning something stuffed in — was central to grand-service cookery, where a whole fish was boned, filled, reshaped and sauced so that it arrived at table looking untouched. The closing note that it will also serve for rissoles and coulibiacs is characteristic: the coulibiac, a Russian fish pie taken up by French chefs in the nineteenth century, was fashionable in exactly the restaurants Ranhofer was writing for.