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 It
happens every Christmas. America has an attack of the Dickensians
and starts waxing poetic about plum pudding and such. Of course,
hardly anyone is actually likely to make a plum pudding,
in large part because they involve suet and a nation that's curls
up its collective nose at lard is hardly likely to go for suet
puddings. Trifle, on the other hand, is another matter.
Trifles
are pretty and involve fruit and cream. So every Holiday season,
magazines and newspapers have a go at publishing recipes, with
varying degrees of success. The worst one I ever saw was in the
magazine supplement to my Sunday paper last year. It gave the
impression of having been created by someone who had once (but
not recently) seen a photograph of a trifle and had deduced its
contents from that. It sounded absolutely appalling, and as if
the general slooshiness of the instructions weren't enough, it
didn't even have any alcohol in it! Mrs. Beeton must have been
spinning in her grave.
All of which
raises the question, of course: what exactly is a trifle?
Like most
traditional dishes, everyone thinks the one that their mother
or grandmother made is the definitive trifle. Basically these
people separate into the jelly and non-jelly trifle camps. British
people have been known to come to blows over this issue. Personally,
I've always regarded jelly trifles as somewhat déclassé, and a
relatively recent development. Which just goes to show what I
know. Back
in 1861, American Oliver Wendell Holmes waxed positively poetic
about the dessert, calling it "That most wonderful object of domestic
art called trifle…with its charming confusion of cream and
cake and almonds and jam and jelly and wine and cinnamon and froth."
It didn't
begin its life as such a creation, however. The first trifles
were very much like fools
(an old confection of pureed fruit mixed with cream), indeed the
two terms were used almost interchangeably for many years. The
very first known recipe, for example, bears almost no resemblance
to what we now call a trifle. It was in The Good Huswife's
Jewell, written by Thomas Dawson and published in 1596:
"Take
a pinte of thicke Creame, and season it with Sugar and Ginger,
and Rosewater, so stirre it as you would then have it, and make
it luke warme in a dish on a Chafingdish and coals, and after
put it into a silver piece or bowle, and so serve it to the
boorde."
Sixty years
later, Joseph Cooper, Charles I's cook, published a collection
of recipes which included something he called a "Foole," but which
is actually much closer to what we regard as a trifle today, featuring
a bread base soaked with liquor:
"Slice
a Manchet
very thin and lay it in the bottom of a dish; and wet hem
with Sack;
boyle Creame, with eggs, and three or foure blades of Mace;
season it with Rosewater and Sugar, stir it well together to
prevent curdling; then pour it on the Bread and let it coole;
then serve it up to the Table."
By the end
of the 17th century Hannah Woolley (The Lady's Closet)
was adding some rennet
to the cream mixture, causing it to set. Decorations make their
first appearance at this point too: Woolley suggests sprinkling
French comfits over the top prior to serving.
The trifle
continued to develop through the 18th century, and was soon joined
with a selection of related dishes, Tipsy Cake and Tipsy Hedghog
among others. What these had in common with trifle was that they
were all made with dried cake, rather than fresh (a detail too
often forgotten these days). In the case of Tipsy Cake, a hollow
was made in the center of the cake and filled with alcohol, which
would soak into the cake. The cake was then surrounded with crème
anglaise or syllabub and slivers of almonds were stuck all over
it. Tipsy Hedgehog was a natural progression from this. The cake
was roughly shaped to look hedgehog-like, and was soaked in sherry.
The crème anglaise/syllabub surround was accented by a spot of
jam (this is what the hedgehog is eating) and the cake itself
festooned with almonds.
By the 1751
4th edition of Hannah Glasse's The Art of Cookery Made Plain
and Easy, the trifle is recognizable, though there's still
no fruit:
"Cover
the bottom of your dish or bowl with Naples biscuits broke in
pieces, mackeroons broke in halves, and ratafia
cakes; just wet them all through with sack, then make a good
boiled custard, not too thick, and when cold pour it over it,
then put a syllabub over that. You may garnish it with ratafia
cakes, currant jelly, and flowers, and strew different colored
nonpareils over it."
Slowly fruit
came to be added, and the syllabub
replaced with whipped cream, at which point we have the dish we
recognize today. Mrs. Beeton
had two recipes in her Book of Household Management (1860),
the first of which involved an impressive amount of liquor: ½
pint (1 cup) of sherry or sweet wine, mixed with 6 tablespoonfuls
of brandy "and, should this proportion of wine not be found quite
sufficient, add a little more…" Those Victorians knew how
to get a party off to a roaring start! She also featured an Indian
Trifle which involved lemon rind, sugar, milk and rice flour to
make a solid cake. This could then be cut into a pattern (she
suggests a star) and custard poured into the cut-out areas. The
whole was then decorated with almonds and preserved fruit or brightly-colored
jelly.
By the time
Cassells published their Dictionary of Cookery in 1896,
the popularity of the dish had grown - they feature eleven recipes!
Including a Savoury Trifle, and one that involved macaroni and
sounds none too appetizing.
So, how
should the modern trifle neophyte begin? Well, the first thing
you'll need is a bowl. The layers in a trifle absolutely cry out
for a glass bowl, but it shouldn't be too deep. About 4 or 5 inches
is usually plenty. The dish should have straight sides and a flat
bottom as the idea is to have equal amounts of everything. In
recent years some of the cooks supplies shops have been selling
tall glass dishes on pedestals as "trifle dishes." These are far
too deep, but will do at a pinch. A better bet is to scour your
local antique shops, second hand shops and even discount stores.
I picked up a fabulous cut glass trifle dish for under $20 at
the local branch of a national chain of discount stores.
Also, don't
make it any harder than it needs to be. The word "trifle" comes
from the Old French "trufle," and literally means something whimsical
or of little consequence. It should be quick to make, which is
why most people these days don't make their own custard from scratch,
but opt instead for Bird's Custard. And go with canned fruit.
Remember, this is a winter dish - fresh fruit would be out of
place.
Click here
for the recipe for our favorite
trifle (no jelly) and remember, it isn't just for Christmas.
In Britain, trifles are a general party dish and are particularly
popular with children (without the alcohol, of course!). After
all, there's something about the layers of cake, fruit, custard
and cream, and the bold pattern of the decoration on top that
brings out the kid in all of us.
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