No. 816

French Roll Sandwiches, American Style and with Anchovies

Sandwichs de Flutes a l'Americaine et aux Anchois

Have some French rolls, four inches long and one and a half inches in diameter, make an opening on the top, empty them, removing all the crumbs possible and keeping the covers. Cut up some roast chicken, the same quantity of fresh red beef tongue and half the quantity of ham, all into one-eighth of an inch squares, a few minced pickles and green peppers, then season with salt, pepper, a little tarragon and finely shred chervil. Mix the whole with just sufficient mayonnaise sauce (No. 606), to bind the ingredients together. The chicken, tongue and ham may be replaced by shrimps cut in two or into small squares, fill the rolls, set on the covers and serve on napkins.

French Roll Sandwiches with Anchovies.—Prepare the rolls as for above; chop up four hard boiled eggs, the yolks and whites separately; put them into a bowl with a pinch of chopped tarragon, one of chervil and one of chives all cut up very fine, season with salt, pepper, a tablespoonful of vinegar and four tablespoonfuls of oil, fill the rolls with alternate rows of anchovies and eggs, until entirely filled, then replace the covers, and serve on napkins.

← No. 815 Sandwiches of Different Meats Cold Side Dishes No. 817 Sardines Marinated →

For the Modern Kitchen

Two hollowed-roll sandwiches from Ranhofer's cold buffet chapter. The technique is the point: the bread becomes a case, and everything depends on the filling being bound tightly enough not to weep into it.

What a flûte isA thin French roll about four inches long and an inch and a half thick — closer to a short section of baguette than a dinner roll. A demi-baguette cut into lengths works, so long as the crust is firm enough to hold its shape once hollowed.
HollowingCut a lid from the top rather than splitting the roll, and pull the crumb out in pieces with your fingers, leaving a shell perhaps a quarter inch thick. Fresh bread tears; a roll baked the previous day empties cleanly.
Red beef tongueThe recipe asks for "fresh red beef tongue"; the redness points to cured (pickled) tongue rather than plain boiled, though Ranhofer's wording is not decisive. Plain fresh-boiled tongue is greyer and blander; if you cannot find cured tongue, use more ham rather than substituting corned beef, which is saltier.
The diceOne-eighth of an inch is small, and it matters — larger pieces will not pack into a one-and-a-half-inch tube without leaving gaps and will fall out at the first bite.
Mayonnaise No. 606Ranhofer's mayonnaise is an oil-and-yolk emulsion. Use only enough to make the mixture cohere; a loose filling will soak into the shell.
Green peppersMost likely sweet bell peppers, raw and finely minced, rather than chilies, though the term was used loosely at the time.
The anchovy versionAnchovies of the period were commonly salt-packed; rinse and fillet those, and taste before adding salt to the eggs, which are already dressed with a tablespoonful of vinegar to four of oil. Oil-packed tinned fillets, blotted, are the practical modern stand-in.
Holding and yieldFill no more than an hour ahead and keep refrigerated; these are mayonnaise and egg on a warm buffet, and the original assumed a cold larder. Reckon one roll per person as a first course, or cut each into two-inch lengths for a platter.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of his three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and this entry sits in a chapter of cold side dishes built for ball suppers and late collations, where food had to survive an hour on a sideboard and look composed on a folded napkin. The name fl inkte simply describes the roll's shape — a long thin loaf — while "à l'américaine" here signals nothing more exotic than the chicken-tongue-ham-and-mayonnaise combination. Hollowing bread to use as a case is much older than either, generally traced to the medieval and Renaissance kitchen's use of loaves and pastry coffins as containers, and it survived into the nineteenth century.