No. 862

Celestines with Foies-Gras and Puree of Chestnuts

Celestines au Foies-Gras a la Puree de Marrons

Put on the fire to reduce about two or three gills of Madeira sauce (No. 492) incorporating into it slowly, a few spoonfuls of good glaze (No. 402); when succulent and thick the same as a montglas, add a few spoonfuls of chopped truffles, then withdraw the saucepan from the fire. Cut from half of a cooked foies-gras, ten or twelve crosswise slices not having them too thin, pare these into drawn out half inches all of the same size; season, glaze over with a brush, and cover one side with the truffle preparation mixed with the parings of foies-gras pounded and strained, smooth and cover with a thin layer of raw forcemeat, then roll the celestines in bread-crumbs, dip in egg, and plunge a few at time into hot fat so as to color as well as heat them. Drain and dress in a circle on a hot dish with a chestnut puree (No. 712), in the center.

← No. 861 Cassolettes, Montholon Hot Side Dishes No. 863 Cocks'-Combs Stuffed, Duxelle →

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

A Delmonico's garnish dish: slices of foie gras masked with truffled sauce and forcemeat, breaded, fried, and ringed around chestnut purée. The whole thing depends on the foie gras staying cold and firm until it hits the fat.

GillsA gill is half a cup, so two or three gills of Madeira sauce is 1 to 1½ cups. It reduces down considerably once the glaze goes in.
GlazeRanhofer's No. 402 is glace de viande — brown stock reduced to a syrup that sets solid when cold. Commercial demi-glace or a good reduced veal stock stands in; a bouillon cube does not, as the salt concentrates badly at this reduction.
"Thick the same as a montglas"Montglas is a salpicon bound with reduced sauce, cooked down thick. Reduce until a spoon drawn through the pan leaves a track that closes slowly — it needs to hold on the foie gras rather than run off.
Cooked foies-grasThis means a whole cooked lobe — a terrine or bloc, chilled firm — not raw liver. Half a lobe gives the ten or twelve crosswise slices. Slice with a hot dry knife and keep everything refrigerated between steps.
"Pared into drawn out half inches"An awkward phrase even in 1894: the slices are pared to matching elongated shapes, the 'half inches' most likely the thickness, though the phrasing does not settle it. Uniformity is the point, since they fry for the same short time and are dressed in a ring.
Raw forcemeatA thin veal or chicken forcemeat (Ranhofer's quenelle mixtures) seals the assembly. Keep the layer genuinely thin — a heavy coat will still be raw inside by the time the foie gras beneath it has melted.
FryingThe recipe says only 'hot fat', and to plunge a few at a time. A normal deep-frying heat, around 360–375F, suits the job: long enough to color the crumb and set the forcemeat, no longer, or the foie gras renders out through the crust.
Breading orderAs written the pieces are crumbed, then dipped in egg. Standard practice is flour, egg, then crumbs, and the crust holds far better that way — an important difference when the filling is soft fat.
Yield and serviceTen or twelve pieces; the recipe gives no number of servings. Chestnut purée goes in the middle of the platter; both elements need to be hot, and the dish will not hold.

A Little History

This is No. 862 in Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the enormous compendium he assembled over a career of roughly three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York (1862–1876 and again from 1879). The cross-references to numbered sauces, glazes and purées are the book's method: nothing stands alone, and a single side dish assumes a kitchen brigade already holding Madeira sauce and meat glaze on the stove. "Célestine" attaches to several unrelated preparations in French cookery — a consommé, a garnish of shredded crêpe, and here a breaded and fried croquette-like slice — and the origin of the name is uncertain. The combination of foie gras, truffle and chestnut is a fixture of the late-nineteenth-century luxury menu, all three in season in the same autumn weeks, and it signals precisely the sort of table Ranhofer was cooking for.