As I sat at the carefully laid-out tasting table housed in the long roof space room at the historical Villa Marcello, my eyes were distracted from the glorious Prosecco tasting in front of me and the charming delivery of our hostess by an intriguing yet warming sight. To my left sat at the far end of the table, an elegant mature lady with perfectly coiffured hair (the lady of a villa it turns out) fishing out of her wine glass half a soaked boudoir finger (trifle sponge). I watched as she carefully dropped in the other end with a satisfying plop and fizz, and peered in to catch it just before it started to disintegrate, much like I dip a rich tea finger in a hot cup of tea. After devouring the Prosecco-drenched sweet sponge, she tipped up the glass and washed the last drops all down with a graceful finishing flourish that seemed many years in the making.
CHOOSE YOUR POISON
It got me thinking of how good sponge fingers taste when doused in sherry, that sudden hit of power after layers of cream and jelly that makes you go “whoof!” Trifle has been a staple in our house for as long as I can remember, served up next to Christmas pudding, after Easter lamb, birthday parties, barbecues. In fact, any occasion in my family seems to go with layers of jelly, custard and cream (sometimes Bird’s Dream Topping).
NIGELLA TO MARY BERRY
Yet trifle is one of those contentious foods that you either love or hate (who are you weirdos?), and something that everyone makes differently. My brother likes fresh fruit in the jelly, I don’t, my Nan was always more a fan of lemon jelly than strawberry, I like hundreds and thousands on top, Nigella uses pistachios, I use boudoir fingers, Mary Berry uses Swiss roll. Do you add jam as well as jelly? What’s the correct ratio of custard to cream? The world of the trifle is no trifling matter – it dates back centuries after all, part of the reason it’s so nostalgic.
EASY FEASTING
For me nostalgia certainly plays a part in it. It’s comforting, tastes like happy times around the table – or slouched on the settee after Christmas dinner – it’s home. I love the fact that it looks so great in a glass bowl, the distinct layers creating a desserty sideways flag. What else does that cut-glass bowl get used for incidentally? Punch? Salad? Neither in my house that’s for sure, it’s simply the trifle dish. There’s also something so satisfying in a food that you don’t really need to chew. You can just sort of inhale it, as sweet cream, slightly solidified custard, and rubber-like jelly slide down along with the potent soaked sponge. It’s a careful act making sure each layer is set sufficiently before the next is added, but the precision is all part of it, especially when it’s virtually impossible to scoop it up without smushing the layers together.
A TRIFLE TWIST
Well I cannot deny the glucose-boosting high I get from the traditional trifle (Bird’s Custard Powder and all), I was recently inspired by my visit to the Prosecco vineyards and the scene with the sponge fingers (turns out the sponges were to eat with coffee, but it took too long to arrive, so Prosecco sufficed for my host) and I decided to give the trifle a Italian-inspired twist. This was the result, boudoir fingers soaked in Prosecco, strawberry jelly (I wanted lemon but couldn’t find it), crème patissiere, whipped mascarpone laced with Prosecco, and topped with mini meringues. Not quite as nostalgic as sherry but a great memory of my time among the Prosecco vines.
