I made it through pool class and brunch at my favourite diner before running out of gas. Now I’m back in the comfy chair, under the cat and unlikely to do anything else demanding for the rest of the day. Aspic is a love-or-loathe-it dish. My mother used to make a tomato aspic that was okay — i.e., not actively repellent — but my grandmother’s jellied brawn simply would not go down my throat. I’m pretty sure the issue was texture, at least for me. When I discovered a really neat lemon pudding that combines jelly and custard, I thought at first that I would gag on the jelly part but didn’t; maybe I’ve grown out of that childhood reaction. Also, I quite like headcheese, which is just the suave, commercial version of Grandma’s jellied brawn. There’s no accounting for tastes, especially over a 60-year span of time.
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