The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 760

Tartlets a la Parmentier

Tartelettes a la Parmentier

Roll out thin some timbale paste (No. 150), and line some small hollow tartlet molds. Prepare a little puree of potatoes the same as for Duchess potatoes (No. 2785), keeping it rather stiff, and mix with it egg-yolks, butter, and parmesan cheese; with this fill the tartlet molds, having previously pricked the paste with the tip of a small knife, press the potatoes down well and smooth the top; butter it over, and besprinkle with grated parmesan, then put them into a moderate oven to cook. Unmold and serve.

For the Modern Kitchen

A garnish tartlet from Ranhofer's Epicurean: a thin pastry shell filled with stiff duchesse potato, gilded with parmesan. The whole thing hinges on the potato purée being dry enough to hold a shape.

A Little History

The name honours Antoine-Augustin Parmentier, the French army pharmacist who spent the 1770s and 1780s campaigning for the potato as human food rather than fodder; in nineteenth-century kitchen French, à la Parmentier came to mean simply "with potato," and it still carries that sense today. Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a complete record of the restaurant's practice, and its Garnishings section is full of small savoury constructions like this one, built to be arranged around a large joint on the platter rather than eaten as a course. The duchesse potato base — purée enriched with yolks and butter until it will hold a piped shape — was the workhorse of that kind of plating, and the parmesan crust here is doing the same job a glaze under the salamander would do: giving a soft filling a surface that survives the trip to the table.