Removing the fat whilst the simmering is going on is obviously a very important stage which cannot be too patiently manipulated. The fat so obtained is invaluable for frying purposes. It should be melted after it has settled, and strained through a piece of muslin.

It may so happen that, owing to insufficient skimming in the early stage of the proceedings, you find to your sorrow that the consomme is not as clear as you could wish. You must therefore clarify it. There are two good ways of doing this. The simpler, and I believe, the more efficacious of the two is to put into the cool broth some very small fragments of raw beef, free from fat, put it on the fire again till it boils, let it settle, and then strain. Perhaps, however, you may not have saved a bit of meat for this contingency, so you must attain your object with the white of an egg, thus:- Break an egg, and throw the white and the shell together into a slop basin, - be careful not to let an atom of the yolk go in, - beat the white and shell up to a stiff froth, and mix it, flake by flake, very completely with the cool soup. Put the soup into a saucepan, and set it on the fire, stirring well till it boils. Take it off immediately, cover it close, let it stand for a quarter of an hour, and then strain it off through the tamis, or hair sieve.

Let me here point out the cause of another misadventure in the satisfactory appearance of a clear soup, - one that often occurs in consomme with maccaroni, vermicelli, and pearl-barley. You have got your stock as bright and clear as sherry, but after adding the ingredients just mentioned "a change comes over the spirit of your dream," - the soup turns cloudy. The reason is this: preserved farinaceous food of the maccaroni class often contains dirt, - dirt that you do not perceive, and which can only be removed by parboiling. Accordingly, whenever you intend to add it to consomme, you should boil it independently in plain water in order that the outside dirty part may be washed off by becoming dissolved. Plain washing in water is not enough; besides, washing maccaroni is the act of an ignoramus.

There is another feature in a clear soup which I have reserved for special attention, and that is the colouring. Now, an idea prevails amongst numbers of English people that a soup to be good and strong must be dark-coloured. Old-fashioned people speak of your modern consomme as a weak, washy composition only fit for foreigners. But if you take the very self-same liquor and brown it with a lot of burnt onion, and thicken it with flour and butter, they are perfectly satisfied. Did you ever make jugged beef tea for a sick friend, the strongest possible essence of raw lean beef? Was not the liquor so obtained as clear as sherry, pale-coloured, with a quantity of granulated particles of the beef floating in it? Well, when strained that would have been consomme without the flavouring produced from vegetables and the bouquet of sweet herbs, and surely strong enough for the veriest John Bull that ever talked nonsense about cookery.

Now, if you desire to impart a golden brown tint to your clear soup, or a darker tint, (which the gods forfend) never use burnt onion upon any account. You must achieve your object by a browning (caramel) made thus :- put a quarter pound of white sugar into a copper or enamelled pan; set it over the fire, and stir it till it is melted; then after simmering for a quarter of an hour, and it has reached the brown tint you want, add a pint of water to it, boil, and skim it, let it get cold, and then bottle and cork it down for use. A little of this should be put into the soup prior to the three hours' simmering stage, if a golden brown be the tint desired.

If you can obtain a small bottle of French-made suc colorant, you need not trouble your head about the colouring, for a little of that exquisite preparation will colour, and also slightly improve the flavour of your consomme. Messrs. Moir and Son now provide this useful ingredient.

Grated Parmesan or Gruyere cheese should always be handed round with clear soups, for it improves many of them. Chilli-vinegar in minute particles is considered by some a great improvement. I strongly advise any of my readers who write to England for their stores, not to forget to ask for a little bottle of American "Tabasco" or quintessence of cayenne, sold by Messrs. Jackson and Co., Piccadilly, priced half a crown: each bottle is furnished with a patent stopper to enable you to shake out a drop at a time; two drops in each basin of soup is generally found enough, and the flavour is very good, quite superseding chilli-vinegar for this purpose.

The next important feature for consideration in soup-making is the adding of wine, which, I think, may be regarded as very essential. Madeira or Marsala is better than sherry for most soups. A rich, full, fruity wine, - inexpensive for want of age, and scarcely to be recommended for after dinner drinking, - is the class best adapted for kitchen use. If sherry be preferred, it ought to be a fruity one, and sound, not a cheap extraordinary compound, composed of molasses, washings of sherry casks, and the most villainous brandy; but honest sherry, lacking age, perhaps, yet bond fide wine. "There is a good saying," observes an author on cookery, that is appropriate here :- "It is no use spoiling the ship for the sake of a ha'porth of tar," - it is, I think, no use spoiling a good soup for the sake of a spoonful of wine." Be careful, however, not to overdo the soupcon of wine that you add to a clear soup; a good table-spoonful is, to my mind, enough for a tureen tilled for eight persons. Thick soups, especially those made of game, mock-turtle, giblet, kidney, and the like, take a larger share of wine : hare soup requires port or burgundy, wild duck and teal soup also, whilst potages of snipe, partridges, quails, jungle-fowls, etc., are, I think, better enriched with Madeira, or Marsala.