STEW. For some, the very essence of slow-cooked succour; tough, no-nonsense cuts of meat (and by that, I mean the bits of the beast that have actually done some hard labour, rather than those perfumed, pampered fillets and breasts), seduced by a mellow heat and gently coaxed into spoon-soft submission. For others, however, this blunt, one-syllable word brings back hideous memories of institutional fodder, sullen scraps of gristle skulking in a grim and greasy morass. Something to abhor, rather than adore.
Whatever your view, stew is the most