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A thread about trifle: I used to work for a lovely family called the Greens, looking after their little girls after school. Part of the family was a wonderful woman called Lorna who was their Granny. (1)
Lorna would come over after school with treats sometimes, she was lovely. Everything from cupcakes to hot cross buns. I remember the treats well. We all loved Lorna. (2)
Anyways, one day I went to work with the news I’d split up with a then boyfriend. The girls knew him as he’d once joined us for a trip to the zoo. I was a bit broken. It wasn’t the nicest of splits. God, he was a tit. (3)
Lorna and my wonderful employer, Nicola had no words but as my sad face left that evening, they handed me a trifle that Lorna had made for the family. It was a whole trifle. Take the trifle, they told me. (4)
Fuck me. I got home and I ate the whole thing. In bed. It was like magic. I mean I cried while I ate it but that trifle was GOOD. It certainly did something to heal that broken heart. (5)
When I went back the next day, I thanked Lorna and she gave me the recipe. It’s the recipe I still use now. It’s still the food of dreams. It’s still my go-to happy food. Thank you, Lorna 
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