The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 978

Palermitaine Timbales

Timbales a la Palermitaine

The salpicon to be composed of red beef tongue, mushrooms and foies-gras, mingled with a tomatoed half-glaze sauce (No. 413). Butter the interior of the timbale molds (No. 2, Fig. 137) with some well kneaded, softened butter that has not been melted, and set on the flat bottoms a thin round piece of truffle measuring three-quarters of an inch across. Cook till slightly firm some small spaghetti macaroni; drain it well, dry, and turn it in a spiral around the entire inside of the mold beginning at the bottom and continuing until the mold is completely full; it is better to use a single piece of macaroni for this. Support the macaroni with a layer of chicken quenelle forcemeat (No. 89), and set a half inch ball of the salpicon in the center; cover with more forcemeat and finish the same as for the timbales (No. 959). Serve separately a Palermitaine sauce (No. 514).

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a brigade that already has stock, half-glaze, forcemeat and truffles on hand, so the entry is a set of assembly notes rather than a standalone recipe. The hinge is the macaroni lining: it has to be pliable but not soft, or the spiral collapses and the unmolded timbale loses its striped shell.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York for over thirty years, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that restaurant's working system set down in print, which is why entry 978 assumes you can turn to entries 89, 413, 514 and 959. A timbale takes its name from the drum-shaped mold, from the Arabic tabl by way of French, and by the late nineteenth century the word covered any forcemeat preparation cooked in such a mold and turned out whole. The garnish names in this section are geographic shorthand in the standard French manner of the day: o Sicily, and the tomato and pasta are the signal, a macaroni lining being often said to mark Palermo and Naples on a French carte. It is also a display piece. Coiling a single strand of spaghetti up the wall of a small mold, setting a truffle disc as a medallion on the base, and hiding a half-inch ball of tongue and foie gras at the center is labor that only makes sense in a kitchen with a large staff and a clientele that noticed.