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| A Picture of a Trifle |
Accept an offer of dessert from Cuz with caution. I have witnessed what she does to them first.
Cuz is the hostess of many an epic "Sinners' Dinner". These were events where the alcohol intake was considerably larger than the consumption of food. Things tended to get just a little messy and often people passed out before the cheese board arrived.
If the chef/hostess had had one margarita too many then backstage management would descend into chaos.
The evening the of "The Trifle Incident" I think Cuz had possibly had that one glass of wine too many. I recall sitting in the dining area being witty & urbane and failing to impress any male company because I keep setting fire to my hair while Cuz has gone to the kitchen to fetch dessert - which includes one of her legendary trifles*
She is gone some time. "Pssstt, psssssssst" comes through the kitchen door and I thought "Well I am actually but there's no need to point it out". "Psssssst!" comes again more persisssssstently.
I go to investigate and find Cuz kneeling on the kitchen floor. "what's the matter?" I ask. "I've dropped the fucking trifle" she whispers. "Well, not dropped it but the top's slid off and it's on the floor". I look down and there are two perfect layers of custard and whipped cream on the tiles looking like they just wafted down from heaven. The industrial-strength sherry-soaked sponge is still in the bowl. "Fuck me - I hope your floor's clean Love".
There is a farcical five minutes where two drunk Scouse women attempt to inveigle a fairly liquid piece of matter into a trifle bowl without alerting any of the other guests to the fact that we were scraping their dinner off the floor. The fish slice was a genius idea.
The trifle is somehow restored and Cuz triumphantly carries it to the dining room "Ta dah! Who wants trifle?". I slide back into my seat and hiss to Acton Baby "Don't have the trifle, I've just lifted it off the floor with a bit of kitchen towel and a fish slice. Stick to the mousse, as far as I know nobody's trodden in it".
No one was ill fortunately.
*Ekky was an absolute trifle FIEND. There is a slight grudge still held today about the time we sat Ekky next to an enormous trifle at Cuz's Boxing Day family party (he couldn't walk about, bless him, so we left him on a barstool in the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey). He ate the WHOLE thing with a serving spoon and then tried to pretend it wasn't him. The fact that he had jam and cream all round his gob gave it away.
Cuz is the hostess of many an epic "Sinners' Dinner". These were events where the alcohol intake was considerably larger than the consumption of food. Things tended to get just a little messy and often people passed out before the cheese board arrived.
If the chef/hostess had had one margarita too many then backstage management would descend into chaos.
The evening the of "The Trifle Incident" I think Cuz had possibly had that one glass of wine too many. I recall sitting in the dining area being witty & urbane and failing to impress any male company because I keep setting fire to my hair while Cuz has gone to the kitchen to fetch dessert - which includes one of her legendary trifles*
She is gone some time. "Pssstt, psssssssst" comes through the kitchen door and I thought "Well I am actually but there's no need to point it out". "Psssssst!" comes again more persisssssstently.
I go to investigate and find Cuz kneeling on the kitchen floor. "what's the matter?" I ask. "I've dropped the fucking trifle" she whispers. "Well, not dropped it but the top's slid off and it's on the floor". I look down and there are two perfect layers of custard and whipped cream on the tiles looking like they just wafted down from heaven. The industrial-strength sherry-soaked sponge is still in the bowl. "Fuck me - I hope your floor's clean Love".
There is a farcical five minutes where two drunk Scouse women attempt to inveigle a fairly liquid piece of matter into a trifle bowl without alerting any of the other guests to the fact that we were scraping their dinner off the floor. The fish slice was a genius idea.
The trifle is somehow restored and Cuz triumphantly carries it to the dining room "Ta dah! Who wants trifle?". I slide back into my seat and hiss to Acton Baby "Don't have the trifle, I've just lifted it off the floor with a bit of kitchen towel and a fish slice. Stick to the mousse, as far as I know nobody's trodden in it".
No one was ill fortunately.
*Ekky was an absolute trifle FIEND. There is a slight grudge still held today about the time we sat Ekky next to an enormous trifle at Cuz's Boxing Day family party (he couldn't walk about, bless him, so we left him on a barstool in the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey). He ate the WHOLE thing with a serving spoon and then tried to pretend it wasn't him. The fact that he had jam and cream all round his gob gave it away.
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