My grandfather…

…was what you might call a gelatin man. Very formal, he was the type of fellow who wore a jacket to dinner in his own house every night. He had a lot of rituals like that, one of which was a tall glass of thick, gelatinous beef consommé, which he drank over ice in the summertime. A little chopped basil, a generous squeeze of lemon…the pefect refresher on a scorching summer day. Or at least he thought so. I myself have never tried it. Perhaps today I will.

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