The only thing better than a good recipe? When something’s so easy to make that you don’t even need one. Welcome to It’s That Simple, a column where we talk you through the process of making the dishes and drinks we can make with our eyes closed.
Born to serial entertainers, I started hosting dinner parties at 18 in my tiny basement apartment. What started simple—soups, roasted vegetables, curries—ballooned into week-long projects as my cooking personality developed. Admittedly, I’m overly ambitious and my baking follows the same pattern: It’s always a challenge and it’s always something different.
In order to rein in my ambitions and whittle my dinner party prep to a half-day delight, I’ve learned to cut the elaborate pastries out of the equation and lean into the effortless trifle instead. Guests don't need a fancy dessert, but they do need a dessert. Scoopable layers of cake, cream, and fruit are the ultimate crowd-pleaser and they’re endlessly adaptable to the size of the party, current season, and what I have kicking around the pantry. I’m bringing trifle into the 2022 dessert lexicon.
A sort-of formula for a foolproof trifle
Something creamy: For example, whipped cream, whipped coconut cream, custard, instant pudding, Greek yogurt, and mascarpone all work exceptionally well.
Cookie or cake: Think shortbread, ginger snaps, chocolate chip cookies, or speculoos cookies if you’re a fan of a crispy-gone-soggy situation. Other fail-safe options include pound cake, coffee cake, banana bread, angel food cake, even supermarket cake layers. Of course, everything is better homemade. But also no one, I repeat no one, will notice if the sponge cake you used came from Entemann’s.
Fruit: For a punch of acid and tartness, some kind of fruit is essential. Try macerated berries, roasted rhubarb, suprêmed citrus, cranberry compote, apple sauce—even just hulled and halved strawberries will do the trick.
Syrup or jam: Something sticky-sweet is what gives a trifle its crave factor. A drizzle of maple syrup, honey, date syrup, pomegranate molasses, jam, or caramel are all great contenders.
My preferred ratio to build my trifle is ⅓ fruit, ⅓ cookies or cake, and the remaining ⅓ split between something creamy and jam or syrup, but you could do more or less of any of them. I like mine more fruity and creamy, though you could omit the fruit all together. (After all, tiramisù is technically a trifle.)
How to assemble your trifle
To assemble, layer the bottom of a dish with your creamy element, followed by a layer of cookie or cake, and then fruit and syrup. Repeat until the dish is full.
I prefer to end with the cream layer. That way everything hiding underneath is well sauced and also a surprise. If you’re like me and you love fanfare, top with one last wow factor element for the best presentation, such as toasted nuts, some leftover cookie crumble, or cacao nibs. To allow for the cookies/cake to become soft and the flavors to meld, assemble your trifle at least 8–10 hours (and up to 24) before serving.
Flavor-wise, I go with what’s seasonal, what’s in my pantry, or what inspires me at the market. When it’s prime rhubarb season, I’ll marry it with pound cake and lemon custard and let it be the star. But come summer, I might use stone fruit, a honeyed whipped cream, and shortbread. In the winter, I lean into cranberries, citrus, and gingersnaps.
How to serve your trifle
Let’s talk about scale: Trifle works just as easily for 3 or 20 guests just by changing the size of the serving dish. Traditionally, it’s made in a trifle dish, a large glass bowl on a stand, but those dishes are large with usually 10–12 servings. Truth be told, I don’t own one.
For my needs, a quart-size glass bowl or high-sided 6-inch ceramic dish works well for a party of 4–6. A generous scoop or two is enough for a light dessert per person, but I always find people go back for seconds. While it’s nice to be able to see the layers, it’s not essential and can actually add a fun element of surprise.
The trifle resolved the creative baker and cook in me. My mind is still able to run wild with flavor and textures, but instead of spending hours making a layer cake, I spend a few minutes piling components into a dish. Look into that fridge, pantry, or market; see what inspires you; and let the imagination run wild. Did I just hear chocolate wafers with orange and saffron cream? I’m stealing it for my next dinner.