I have a beautiful trifle dish. I bought it for a dollar at the Christmas Tree Shop in 2007 and made a gorgeous trifle right away. This week I thought it was time for a second trifle.
I instructed Matt on my way out the door.
"Cut up the last bit of delicious Easter bread/cake" I shouted, flinging kids and backpacks in the car, "and pour some brandy on it and put it in the fridge."
He gazed back at me in confusion and wonder. "How big should the chunks be? And how much brandy?"
"Just a splash!" I called gaily and swept out of our drive narrowly missing hitting a school bus. I'm such a great driver.
Five hours later I came home. "How did it go?"
"Well, you didn't say how much brandy. What does 'Just a splash mean?'"
I looked in the dish at the brandy laden bread/cake. Matt had poured almost an Entire Bottle of Brandy on it. It smelled delicious but Too Much.
So I made custard and arranged raspberries all over the top and left it for a while hoping the Trifle Fairy would come and fix it or something (why not? The kids have the stupid old forgetful Tooth Fairy. Why can't there be a Trifle Fairy?). In the face of no obvious improvement, this afternoon I dumped it out of the Trifle Dish into a baking pan and baked it at 350 for an hour. It came out golden, pungent and basically delicious if you ladle it with cream and sugar and take very very very tiny bites and drink lots of water to keep from getting tipsy.