I have had several requests for the recipe for the trifle I spoke about - so I am putting on the recipe today. Trifle is a traditional old English sweet
which in the English version never, never, never has the addition of jelly. It should also never be served up to anyone who is counting the calories - you will see why when you read the recipe. I am sorry if it is a case of teaching my grandmother to suck eggs as I am sure lots of readers will have their own recipe, but it does seem to be a rarity in the US - so here it is. John (Going Gently) don't even cast your eyes over the recipe. Please note that any fruit can be substituted for the strawberries I used.
Ingredients: Trifle sponges, or any sponge cake (or even a swiss roll); Jam - in this case, strawberry jam; custard, amaretti biscuits; sherry (generous); double (or whipping) cream; strawberries.
Cut the trifle sponges in half, spread with strawberry jam and then sandwich them together again and cut in half vertically to make smallish squares. Arrange them in the bottom of a pretty dish, preferably a glass one so that you can see the layers; pour over a generous amount of good quality sherry. Cover the dish with cling film and leave overnight in the fridge.
When you are ready to assemble - cover the cake with a layer of strawberries and if they are not terribly sweet sprinkle with a small amount of caster sugar; then cover with one pint of made custard - either 'proper' custard made with eggs and milk and sugar or custard made with custard powder; leave it to cool - if you put cling film over again it will discourage a skin forming. Once it is cool cover with a layer of amaretti biscuits (those little circular ones) and finally with a thick layer of whipped up cream. Put strawberries on the top to decorate.
At this stage, providing I intend to eat it within a few hours, I don't put it back in the fridge as it is best and tastiest eaten at room temperature.
We don't have it very often because it really is unhealthy eating, but now and again as a little treat is fine. After our friends had gone I divided what was left with my son who came round eagerly with a trifle bowl. I somehow have to stop the farmer eating it all.