The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 938

Patties a la Reine

Bouchees a la Reine

Pound well half a pound of white meat taken from the breast of a cooked chicken, using the same quantity of rice; press through a sieve, and set the puree into a saucepan to heat without boiling, incorporating into it one ounce of fine butter, and season with a little salt; if it should be too thick, add some cream. The chicken puree may be replaced by a small salpicon of white chicken meat cut in eighth of an inch squares, and added to a veloute sauce (No. 415) reduced with cream. Instead of using the puff paste lid, lay on top a round piece of truffle, three-quarters of an inch in diameter, and an eighth of an inch in thickness, glazed with a little meat glaze (No.402).

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer assumes you already have puff pastry cases, a velouté and a meat glaze on the shelf; the recipe itself is only the filling. Two details decide whether it works: the heat and the texture.

A Little History

Bouchee means "mouthful," and a la reine — "in the queen's style" — is one of the older French kitchen tags for a dish of white chicken meat in a pale cream sauce, traditionally traced to Marie Leszczynska, queen to Louis XV, though the attribution is culinary folklore rather than documented fact. By the time Charles Ranhofer set down The Epicurean in 1894, after decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York, a la reine had hardened into a specification: chicken breast, no browning, nothing to tint the sauce. The rice here is doing work that a modern cook would give to a roux or to reduction — it is a thickener that adds no color and no competing flavor, in the same family as the almond- and bread-thickened white dishes of medieval European cookery. Ranhofer's habit of numbering everything and cross-referencing his own sauces tells you who the book was for: a professional brigade with a stockpot already going, not a household cook starting from nothing.