Ugly ingredients yield succour and good cheer
IT is, for me, the very quintessence of cow—a cool, gently trembling mass that gleams like polished amber. Simply served in a plain white bowl, Wilton’s cold beef consommé, with its lone, verdant sprig of curly parsley garnish, is a dish of quiet majesty. And one that manages to be both intensely bovine and breezily light. But, for all its stripped-back purity, this is no five-minute feast. Rather a resolutely old-school slog of simmering, skimming and arduous clarification.
Nor is it the most popular of dishes. ‘Urgh,’ cry my friends in disgusted union, as I merrily slurp
