The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 860

Cassolettes Lusigny

Cassolettes a la Lusigny

Fill some timbale molds (No. 2, Fig. 137) with butter melted to the consistency of cream, leave to cool, then dip them into very hot water and unmold, roll them in cracker dust, dip in beaten eggs, then in bread-crumbs, and again in beaten eggs and bread-crumbs; smooth neatly with a knife and slit around the top with a pastry cutter dipped in hot water, this should be a quarter of an inch in diameter smaller than the timbale itself; fry a few at the time in very hot frying fat, and when of a fine color, remove the covers, stand them on a grate, at the oven door and let all the butter drain out. Cut up some unsmoked, salted tongue, mushrooms, truffles, and chicken, into small quarter inch squares, combine this salpicon with buttered allemande sauce (No. 407), fill the cassolettes, and place on top a round of truffle the size of the opening to take the place of a cover; it should be a quarter of an inch in thickness.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a piece of nineteenth-century kitchen engineering rather than a recipe in the usual sense: the butter is not an ingredient but a disposable mold, chilled solid so it can be breaded, fried, then melted out to leave a hollow crumb shell. Everything depends on keeping the butter cold and the fat hot.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer published The Epicurean in 1894, during a career of some three decades at Delmonico's in New York, and this recipe shows exactly what a large brigade kitchen could afford to do that a household could not. The butter-mold case is a purely professional flourish, a hollow fried shell built around a substance meant to disappear, and it belongs to the same tradition of edible containers as the croustade, the vol-au-vent and the bouchée. "Cassolette" is a diminutive in the same family as casserole -- both trace back to casse, a pan -- and means a small individual dish rather than the baked casserole of later American usage. The Lusigny name follows the book's habit of attaching aristocratic or place-name garnishes to particular combinations of salpicon and sauce; such names circulated among French chefs of the period as shorthand for a fixed formula, and their origins are usually traditional rather than documented. What identifies this one is the pairing of tongue, mushroom, truffle and chicken bound in allemande, a combination that turns up across the era's garde-manger repertoire wherever cold cooked meats needed elegant reuse.