Nigel Slater’s recipe for summer berry trifle

A summer trifle is a gorgeous thing, deep layers of softly whipped cream and vanilla-scented custard, tart fruit and alcohol laced sponge. A lavish, voluptuous, over-the-top dessert whose layers come together over time, the wine soaking into the sponge, the fruits marbling the custard.

I have no doubt that a trifle is better for a night in the fridge, but time is a luxury, so even a few hours will help the layers settle into one another. The earlier in the day you can start the better. Tradition states ratafia biscuits make a good base, and they do, but I prefer something with a softer, open crumb such as a sponge cake. The affair should be light and creamy, the cloying quality of cream and custard balanced with tart fruit such as raspberries, blackcurrants or cherries. Peaches or apricots work well if truly ripe and spiked with plenty of lemon juice. Either way, the dessert is about harmony and a small amount of patience. I made a blackcurrant version this week, individual ones, so everyone could have their own little trifle party.

Few friends are more welcome than those who arrive with a box of mangoes. An entire box arrived this week, courtesy of a dear friend. Ripe kesar fruits cocooned in their traditional packing of ribbons of pastel coloured paper, with glowing flesh that was both honied and slightly floral. They became the stars of breakfast for the entire week. (Note, eat them before you shower as the juice is both bountiful and sticky.) There are few better ways to start the day. They need nothing, though a tiny squeeze of lime juice makes their sweet flesh sing even louder.

The new jersey potatoes made an appearance early in the week too, the first time cooked like my granny did with lots of salt and sprigs of mint in the cooking water, then cut into coins and baked with a little chicken stock, thyme, sweet, mauve-skinned garlic and olive oil.

Salad leaves have slowly been getting more interesting and the bag I picked up on Wednesday had everything from red chard and young curls of frisée to juicy little sprigs of claytonia. Such a mixture of sweet and bitter leaves I refused to mute their peppery, bitter and lemony notes with any sort of dressing. They got a quick toss in olive oil and then straight on to the plate.

The melons are still a little hit or miss as they so often are in early summer. I picked up a cantaloupe on Thursday that showed all the hints of true ripeness – pronounced netting on the skin and a sugary scent. The flesh was juicy and sweet, and we ate at least half of it that day in a salad with torn up roast chicken, watercress and pea shoots. The salad was dressed with the melon’s own juices and those of the roast chicken.

Thursday was one of those days when I went nowhere near the oven. A day when everything hailed from the baker – a courgette and crème fraiche tart and a cake smothered with a buttercream flavoured with blackcurrant leaves – but at least I found time to put a quick supper together. Cucumber, basil and burrata for eating with slices of prosciutto. The dressing was a mixture of basil leaves, olive oil and red wine vinegar, stirred through the smashed cucumber at the last minute. We needed a spoon for the resulting “soup” of cucumber juices and basil.

Friday found me toasting thick slices of sourdough (slightly stale but none the worse for it) as a base for baked feta. The cheese was dressed with a mixture of honey, olive oil and dried herbs including a few buds of lavender. I used both thyme and za’atar, the latter having the benefit of ground sumac mixed with the wild thyme and oregano to balance the sweetness of the honey. I would normally file this under “snack” or “light lunch”, but with two slices each and tomato salad on the side, it was enough for a sunny summer evening. And of course, trifle to follow.