The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 956

Rissolettes a la Pompadour

Rissolettes a la Pompadour

Rissolettes are made with very thin pancakes, cutting them into round pieces two and a half inches in diameter; the salpicon ball to be an inch; they are fastened together by a string of chicken forcemeat (No. 89), a quarter of an inch thick, and laid on one-half of the circles. The paste for the pancakes is composed of half a pound of flour, stirring gradually into it, five eggs, a little milk, salt and two ounces of melted butter; the paste must be liquid. Put some clarified butter into small frying pans, add a little of the paste and spread it around so as to form very thin pancakes; when done lay them on a cloth, and cut from them with a round two and a half inch in diameter pastry cutter, pieces for the rissolettes.

Rissolettes a la Pompadour.—Have a small Julienne salpicon of beef palate and mushrooms mixed with a little well-reduced and well-seasoned bechamel (No. 409), set into a vessel to get cold. Make a ball of this preparation one inch in diameter, and lay it on the center of one of the pancake rounds, two and a half inches wide; fold the pancake and fasten the two edges together with a string of chicken quenelle forcemeat (No. 89); dip them in eggs and bread-crumbs and fry them to a fine color. Serve on folded napkins.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer assumes you can turn out paper-thin crêpes and have a bowl of chicken quenelle forcemeat standing by. The hinge is the filling: the bechamel-bound salpicon must be cold and stiff enough to roll into a firm ball, or the parcels burst in the fat.

A Little History

This is from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the enormous compendium of the kitchen he ran at Delmonico's in New York for over thirty years, and it shows the house style exactly: a dish built by cross-reference, sending the cook to No. 89 for forcemeat and No. 409 for bechamel rather than repeating either. A rissolette is the small, delicate cousin of the rissole, a fried turnover normally made in pastry; substituting a thin pancake for the paste gives a lighter, crisper shell. Naming a dish a la Pompadour after Louis XV's mistress was a nineteenth-century restaurant convention rather than a claim of eighteenth-century origin — like a la Dubarry or a la Maintenon, it signalled refinement and small, pretty portions. The beef palate is the real period marker: a cheap offcut that long slow cooking turns silky, it appears throughout French service of the era and has all but vanished from English-speaking kitchens.