A cross-referenced filling from Ranhofer's The Epicurean, written for a kitchen brigade that had lobster sauce and baked shells already standing by. The whole dish is assembly, and the only real technique is heat control.
- The hinge: no boilingLobster sauce of this period is typically a fish-stock sauce finished with lobster butter, and often cream; enrichments of this kind can break if boiled, and the lobster meat toughens. Heat to the point where steam just rises, no further.
- The cross-referencesNo. 488 is Ranhofer's lobster sauce; No. 934 is his prepared patty shells, presumably of puff paste. Neither is on this page. Any good lobster sauce works, as do bought all-butter puff pastry vol-au-vent cases, baked blind and dried out in the oven so they do not soften under the filling.
- Three-sixteenths of an inchAbout 5 mm, a fine, even dice, small enough that a spoonful of filling holds together and nothing protrudes from the shell. It is the sort of fine dice used for a salpicon, and consistency matters more than the exact fraction.
- Lobster meatFigure roughly 8 oz picked cooked meat and 6–8 oz sauce for a dozen small bouchées. Claw and knuckle meat dices better than tail, which tends to shred along the grain.
- TrufflesThe recipe specifies only truffles; black winter truffle, fresh or preserved, is the likely intent. It is costly today; a small jarred truffle, or truffle peelings, gives the colour contrast the dish is built on. Truffle oil does not, and will fight the lobster.
- CayenneA dash means a dash — enough to lift the sauce, not to register as heat. Add it to the sauce and taste before the lobster goes in, since the meat mutes seasoning.
- ServingThe folded napkin is period presentation, as the recipe directs. Fill at the last moment and serve immediately; a filled puff shell begins to go limp within a few minutes.
The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of roughly thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and it is organised as a professional reference rather than a domestic cookbook — which is why this entry is three sentences long and points elsewhere for its two main components. Dishes named for Queen Victoria proliferated in the second half of the nineteenth century across French and Anglo-American restaurant menus, and the label carried no fixed formula; here it denotes lobster and truffle together, the two most conspicuous luxuries a kitchen could put in a small pastry case. Bouchées, literally "mouthfuls," were the small end of the vol-au-vent family and belonged to the hors-d'œuvre chaud or side-dish course of a long service, where a table might see several such fillings in succession — the neighbouring numbers here are Turbigo patties and a salpicon of foie gras.