Strawberry Yoghurt Trifle

 

This strawberry yoghurt trifle recipe is one I wish I had long ago. Ironically, I don’t remember ever having trifles as a kid – they just weren’t part of my cultural kitchen.

But for some reason trifle seemed to feature in so many of the books I read as a child, along with puddings, and roly-poly, and jam-cakes. Even frogs and rabbits ate them. The history of the trifle dates back to the sixteenth century, but the trifle as we know it emerged in the 1700s. By the Victorian era, when children’s literature started booming, trifles had become a staple part of celebrations in British households. No wonder they began to feature in children’s fantasy, too. The trifle even made a more recent appearance at Hogwarts.

I realised as an adult, the reason trifles became popular is probably because they are relatively easy to make. Also, layering a little bit of this (cake, cream), and a little bit of that (custard, fruit, jelly), goes a very long way.

What I did have for dessert as a kid were macerated strawberries (though I didn’t know that’s what they were called back then) with vanilla ice cream. Macerated strawberries form a major part of this gorgeous-looking and tasting trifle, which is more for the adults than the kids. It looks decadent, but is surprisingly light, and also goes a surprisingly long way.

Also, strawberries! Even the ancient Romans loved them. I love the idea that maybe there’s some basic human collective connection based on the deliciousness of strawberries which stems from ancient Rome, through the early Modern period, and the Industrial Revolution, and to the digital age we’re living in now. The idea that this cute little red fruit growing on delicate stems has given so many of us pleasure over CENTURIES. Maybe that’s a stretch, but it’s certainly included poets, like Jean Blewett below 🙂

The glad, glad days, and the pleasant ways –
Ho! for the fields and the wildwood!
The scents, the sights, and the dear delights –
Ho! for our care-free childhood!

Heavy the air with a fragrance rare,
Strawberries ripe in the meadow,
Luscious and red where the vines are spread
Thickly in sun and shadow.

The glad, glad days, and the pleasant ways,
Chorus of wild birds calling:
“Strawberry ripe! Ho! strawberry ripe!”
From dawn till the dew is falling.

-Jean Blewett (1862-1934) from “Wild Strawberries”, poem in the public domain