The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 967

Harlequin Timbales

Timbales a l'Arlequin

Prepare a salpicon of artichoke bottoms cut into three-sixteenth inch squares; mix them in with a well buttered cold supreme sauce (No. 547). Decorate the timbale molds (No. 2, Fig. 137) by placing a ring cut from a truffle in the center of the bottom, one-eighth of an inch narrower than the bottom itself, and in the center of this ring lay a round piece of tongue; ornament the sides with alternate lozenges of truffles, red beef tongue, and some royal (No. 241) cut thin; also lozenges of forcemeat prepared as follows: Have two ounces of quenelle forcemeat (No. 89) with chopped truffles added, and the same quantity of forcemeat with chopped pistachios; spread a layer one-sixteenth of an inch of each preparation of forcemeat on sheets of paper; poach till firm to the touch, let cool and cut in lozenges to use for decorating the timbales. Cover the decoration with a coating of chicken quenelle forcemeat (No. 89), place in the center a half inch diameter ball of the prepared salpicon, cover over with more forcemeat, then poach and unmold the timbales as described in No. 959. Serve separately a veloute sauce (No. 415), reduced with a puree of onions (No. 723) and cream, and thicken it at the last moment with a piece of fresh butter.

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a decorated forcemeat timbale from Ranhofer's chapter of hot entremets, and almost all of it is assembly rather than cooking. The cross-referenced numbers are separate recipes elsewhere in The Epicurean, so the components have to be sourced or improvised before you begin.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer, chef at Delmonico's in New York for more than thirty years, published The Epicurean in 1894 as a compendium of the restaurant's repertoire, and this timbale belongs to the most ornamental corner of it. The name points to Harlequin of the commedia dell'arte, whose costume is patterned in coloured diamonds — hence the lozenges of black truffle, red tongue, pale royal and green pistachio forcemeat set into the wall of the mold. Decorating the inside of a buttered mold so that the pattern appears on the finished surface is the same logic as the chaud-froid and aspic work of the period, applied to something served hot, and it explains why the recipe is mostly geometry: the cooking is a quiet water bath, and the labour is in the cutting. Dishes like this were the visible justification of a large brigade, and they are the first things to vanish from restaurant cooking once kitchens shrink.