For many of us across the country, things seem to be looking up for the first time in a while. The pubs are open, summer is just around the corner, and we are bolstered by the thrilling news that there is no institutional racism in Britain. None at all! How better to acknowledge our British values of democracy, tolerance and freedom than by making a large Eton Mess?
Eton Mess has been a staple dessert in this country for years, originating after an overexcited labrador ruined a strawberry pavlova at a cricket match in the 1920s. The labrador destroyed a lot of hard work with its buffoonery, but, in a very British manner, everyone lived with the consequences and ate the smashed dessert anyway. Naturally, the dog would get off scot-free.
If you like Eton Mess but you’re not a dab-hand in the kitchen, you can always text your friend, the owner of a local michelin starred restaurant, demanding that you have it made just the way you like it. Everyone will benefit, of course; the Eton Mess isn’t just for you. Although it must be served to you first.
Failing that, you can make it yourself using the recipe below. Once you’ve baked the meringues, the rest is so easy you could even make it in your shed.
To Make Eton Mess (serves 6, or just serve yourself lots)
Whip 2 egg whites until they stand up along the party line. Add in 120g of caster sugar gradually to sweeten the deal. Dollop shameless blobs of the mixture onto a tray and lex them bake in a very low oven for around an hour until they’re entirely opaque.
Lobb(y) a punnet of handpicked strawberries into a bowl with some icing sugar and a sleaze of lemon, blitzing to a pulp with a hand blender. Chop another punnet of strawberries into financial quarters.
Your second job is the assembly – this is important as you’ve only been part time up until now, waiting for you meringues to cook. Whip 450ml of double cream with a touch of vanilla and some more icing sugar until floppy. Then stir in the strawberry pieces, followed by the crushed meringues. Lastly, swirl through the strawberry sauce, being careful that it only makes the most formal of channels in the cream. The last thing you’d want to do is overmix everything – it does say ‘mess’ in the title but it doesn’t mean you can be entirely slapdash or unbecoming about it all.
Serve in bowls with a very private drink of champagne.
This is a rather naughty dessert so if you’re not going to share it, make sure you eat it where no one can see you. If you do get caught, deny eating any of it. No matter what you say, your friends will doubtless support you (they’ve probably eaten a fair amount of Eton Mess alone too so will know where you’re coming from, even if they don’t say so explicitly).
TTFN, chaps. That’s all for now.