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The English Kitchen - Trifle |
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| Helen Saberi and Alan Davidson
136 pages; 187 x 135mm; illustrations? ISBN 1903018 099 Paperback £8.99 |
The English Kitchen
is a series published by Prospect Books to explore and explain the course
of English cookery over the last 300 years. Some of the series delves into
historic cookery books to find the origins of particular dishes, other
titles concentrate on modern favourites and the ways in which they have
been interpreted today and in the recent past.
Trifle is the first in the series and comes from the pens of Helen Saberi, author of Afghan Food and Cookery and Alan Davidson, author of The Oxford Companion to Food and other classics of the kitchen, particularly relating to fish. Trifles have been a perennial of English summer lunches, tennis parties, and schoolboy dreams. The authors trace their origins to the earliest recipe for trifle of 1596 and its gradual transformation from a mere cooked cream to the many layered custardy extravagance that we know today. The stages on its journey, described with the lightest of touch, are illustrated by recipes extracted from classic English cookery books. The authors thereafter range far and wide in search of the perfect trifle, from Zuppa Inglese to American aphrodisiac trifle to a fruit and tapioca trifle from Laos. As may be imagined from these authors, the material presented is scholarly, yet trips the light fantastic in a way that should appeal the all those curious about the development of our national cuisine. A puff for Trifle, when Glen Baxter choses his books of the year for The Observer, November 2001 Do Not Bend (Redstone Press £11.95) by David Shrigley is dark, eerie and disturbingly hilarious, like the work of all the very best surrealists. Trifle (Prospect Books £8.99) by Helen Saberi and Alan Davidson, which sparkles with anecdote, generous whippings of erudition and the candied stem of the biznaga cactus. Hugely enjoyable. |
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Review of Trifle by Jill Dupleix, The Times cook. There is a trifle, too, of course, but the last word on trifles goes to the learned Alan Davidson and Helen Saberi, their little gem Trifle (Prospect Books £11.99). Having completed their work on the mammoth Oxford Companion to Food Davidson and Saberi turned to the emotional and intellectual comforts of a pudding. Trifle is a knees-up romp through jelly, custard, whipped cream and nuts as the authors dig greedily through layers of culinary archaeology to reveal trifles from "Excellent" to "Aphrodisiac". In the Companion, Davidson suggests puddings may be claimed as a British invention, and that puddings in all their varieties may be seen as the descendants of botellus, the Latin word for sausage. Two contributing factors to the happy evolution of the pudding in Great Britain, he suggests, were the use of small ovens built into the chimney that allowed the slow baking of a pastry-topped pottage; and the invention of the pudding-cloth, which freed puddings from the need to be encased in animal gut (a haggis and black pudding). Sponge puddings joined suet puddings in the 18th century, and sweet milk pottages embracing new imports such as sago or tapioca joined those made with rice and barley. The disappearance of the cook from the kitchen means we must now get
to grips with basins, bains maries. foil and string to create the puddings
to which we are devoted.
Review of Trifle by Elizabeth Riely, editor of the Radcliffe Culinary Times, in Gastronomica. In this exhaustive examination of the trifle - and with that paradox always in mind - Helen Saberi and Alan Davidson have concocted something as "light and frothy" as their subject. The introduction to this monograph on the British dessert states that during their long years of labor on The Oxford Companion to Food, the authors contemplated just such a project. Here it is, their delight evident, "a smile on every page." Recipes are provided for readers to do further research on their own. Along with their accustomed erudition, Saberi and Davidson write with wit and humor, indeed, with playfulness: "Ah, happy days when we had two trifles a week to sample and discuss over lunch!" The book begins with a consideration of the trifle's architecture, and the authors apply its structural principles to their writing, from firm foundation to decorative topping. This awareness keeps the book from sinking under its own weight. Trifle is a miniature tour through British culinary history. First stop is its initial appearance in print, in 1596. Further along the itinerary, the authors hail Hannah Glasse who, a century and a half later, invented a dish herself, for once, apparently, rather than plagiarizing her trifle recipe from another cookery writer. She seems to have found the "missing link" between the floating island and the fool, thus publishing the first authentic modern trifle on a base of biscuit, macaroon, and cake, with custard, fruit jelly, syllabub, and flowers above. The retrospective journey proceeds through British trifles up to the present, including one very much like the one Davidson's Scottish grandmother made. The trifle's flowering outside of Britain, in the New World and beyond, ever further afield, is explored in depth. This "biodiversity" includes variations such as the Norwegian Veiled Maidens with a pumpernickel base, a South African Zulu version with green figs, and an Italian Zuppa Inglese with grenadine and pistachios. Among the sampling of Oddities, most are curiosities rather than temptations. But the Kabul Quince and Yoghurt Trifle, a hybrid of eastern flavors that Saberi created for her Afghan husband, sounds quite delicious. Davidson's Vientiane Coconut Jelly Trifle, with two separate extractions of coconut milk thickened with agar agar, tapioca pudding, and mango, sounds more exotic still. The Glossary adds nuggets. The boudoir biscuit, for instance, is derived from the French word bouder, to pout; hence "a woman's private room where she would receive only her intimate friends - who could pout and nibble sponge fingers as much as they wished in this cloistered environment." On the final page, a "Valedictory Verse" on the trifle, "where custard and macaroons meet," from Punch, circa 1860, ensures that this book is the last word on trifle. |
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TABLE OF CONTENTS Acknowledgements 5
Chapter One - The Early Years 15-18
Chapter Two - British Trifles 1750 to 1800 19-28
Chapter Three - Trifles in Nineteenth Century Britain 29-38
Chapter Four - British Trifles in the First Half of the
Chapter Five - British Trifles from 1950 Onwards 49-64
Chapter Six - Trifle in the New Worlds 65-78
Chapter Seven - Trifles Elsewhere 79-94
Chapter Eight - Trifling Relations 95-104
Chapter Nine - Italy: Zuppa Inglese and Tiramisu 105-110
Chapter Ten - Oddities 111-117
Glossary of Trifling Terms 118-126
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ODDITIES There can be no doubt about savoury
trifles being oddities. So
We met Theodore Francis Garrett and his monumental Encyclopaedia of Practical Cookery (c. 1895) on page 36, and reproduced his Queen of Trifles, a regal dessert. Here we offer one of his two savoury trifles. Cold Savoury Trifle Beef Trifle. Mix well together. Place in small cups, greased. Bake in moderate oven 20 minutes. Turn out and serve on a hot dish with gravy round. Firstly, Helen writes: this recipe has been inspired by my Afghan husband, who asked me to devise a trifle recipe with an eastern flavour, and to name it after the city in which he was born and brought up. The second reason for including this recipe is that the results are really good. An alternative to the yoghurt topping could be an Afghan firni, a sort of custard made with milk and cornflour flavoured with rosewater and cardamon. There is a recipe for this in my book Noshe Djan - Afghan Food and Cookery. Kabul Quince and Yoghurt Trifle 110 g sugar juice of 1/2 lemon pinch of ground cardamom 18-24 amaretti biscuits 500 g Greek strained yoghurt 1/4 tsp saffron 1 tbs rose water 110 g caster sugar 1/2 tsp ground cardamom toasted flaked almonds slivered or ground pistachio crystallized rose petals (optional) Peel, core and slice the quinces thinly. Put into a pan and add water, which should well cover the quinces. Bring to the boil, cover with a lid, turn down the heat and simmer until they are just soft. (You may have to add more water if it reduces too much.) Remove the quinces with a slotted spoon from the pan and set to one side. Now add the sugar to the water in which the quinces were cooked and stir to dissolve. Add the lemon juice. Bring to the boil and cook for a couple of minutes until syrupy. Remove from the heat, add the cardamom and return the quinces to the pan. Leave to cool in the syrup. Place the amaretti biscuits in the bottom of a glass bowl and cover with the quinces. Add just enough of the syrup to lightly soak the amaretti. Now make the yoghurt cream. Dissolve the saffron in the rosewater and beat into the yoghurt. Mix in the sugar, more or less according to taste, and add the cardamom. Mix well. Spread the yoghurt cream evenly
over the quinces and decorated with the almonds and pistachios and rose
petals, according to your fancy.
Alan's recipe is inspired directly by his experience of living in Laos and exploring the Traditional Dishes of Laos (the title of an extraordinary book on the subject by Phia Sing) including several desserts which have evolved there on the basis of the coconut, most versatile of foodstuffs. It is accompanied by one of only a large number of potential variations. Marry the English trifle to an Asian cuisine and you will be astonished by the number of progeny which this coupling produces. The ingredients include first and second extractions of coconut milk. To produce these you would need one large or two smaller fresh ripe coconuts and a knowledge of the technique. It is easier for most people to use desiccated coconut, following the instructions on the packet to produce the right amount. In the recipe which follows, since the versatile coconut can also be used to produce coconut custard, you could substitute this for the tapioca. This would be made with, for example, 4 eggs (lightly beaten), half a cup of sugar and a cup of thick coconut milk. Set over a low heat and stir frequently until you have a custard consistency. Stage One - The Jelly 170 ml thick coconut milk (first extraction) 670 ml thin coconut milk (second extraction) salt, to taste 70 g brown sugar 70 g white sugar 2 eggs, lightly beaten Add the agar agar to the thick coconut milk in a cooking pot, stir and bring to the boil. Add salt and both kinds of sugar and leave to simmer for nearly ten minutes. Then add the thin coconut milk to the mixture. Have your trifle dish, which should be heat-proof, ready. Pour the beaten eggs into the bottom of it. Bring the coconut mixture back to the boil, then pour it quickly over the beaten eggs and leave to set. (The result, which has settled into a jelly of two layers, the upper one brown and the lower one much paler, can be served by itself as the Lao dessert called Vun, but we are going on to add further layers.) Stage Two - Fruit and Tapioca My idea here need not be spelled out in detail, because choice of fruits, quantity of tapioca etc. are all flexible. However, I would suggest making at least two cups of tapioca pudding (I would use 'Minute' tapioca, and follow the directions on the packet) and then setting it aside to cool. Meanwhile you could thinly slice a banana or two, sprinkle with lime juice, and lay over the vun. Then add a layer of the now cool tapioca, and top with thin pieces of peeled mango, either simple strips or (fancier) crescent shapes, making a decorative pattern. Very thin slices of pineapple would be an alternative topping. Ann Semple writes: 'Peg Bracken was a woman who made a career in the 1960s of doing as little in and about the house as possible. Her first book, The I Hate To Cook Book, was published in 1960 and was, as I recall, a runaway success. It was quickly followed by several other volumes, all delightful to read and often to emulate: The I Hate to Housekeep Book, (1962); I Try to Behave Myself; The I Hate to Cook Almanack (A Book of Days); and Appendix to The I Hate to Cook Book among others. Of the volumes listed, I now possess every one, including the Appendix in whichI found Peg Bracken's take on trifle.' Her recipe follows: London Trifle [Note breath-taking simplicity here] 1 cup marmalade Mix them up. Then taste. Maybe you'll want more yogurt. Or marmalade. Spoon it into sherbet glasses, grate some orange rind on top, and chill it a bit. [Note by Alan: In testing this concoction I decided to simplify it further by omitting the sherbet glasses, the grated orange rind and the whole tedious business of chilling. Just leave it all in the bowl (and save on the washing up).] Maltese Trifle Soufflé (some of it may be chocolate flavoured) 6 large slices of sponge cake 2-3 tbs apricot or strawberry jam 125 ml brandy, sherry or rum 300 g rikotta 3 tbs caster sugar 50 g dark chocolate, chopped 50 g candied peel To finish 2 egg whites
Use a large glass bowl. Pour in a layer of custard. Slice the sponge cake and spread with jam. Arrange a layer over the custard. Sprinkle with brandy, sherry or rum. Beat the lumps out of the rikotta and mix with the caster sugar, chocolate and candied peel. Lay a layer of this on the sponge cake. Repeat the process, continuing until all the ingredients have been used up. Finish with a layer of custard. Whisk the egg whites until stiff. Whisk in the caster sugar. Spoon over the trifle, decorating with more chopped chocolate and some chopped roasted almonds. Clearly the meringue topping must have evolved in the absence of cream. Aphrodisiac Trifle 25 g caster sugar / 1 egg yolk
Slice the strawberries, reserving two whole for decoration. Break the boudoir biscuits into 4 pieces. Dip the pieces in the coffee and distribute them evenly into two individual sundae glasses. Over each, add in turn layers of chocolate, sliced strawberry and mascarpone mixture. Top each with a whole strawberry and decorate with the rose petals. Serve with the lovely pink Biscuits Roses de Reims, if desired. |
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