After months of ceaseless toil whittling down thousands of entries, the judges have declared that a trifle will be the official pudding for the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee.
Obviously I’m disappointed. My idea for a Covid-shaped banana cake didn’t make the final cut. It contained a metal file and was called the Jubilee Jailbreak Pudding. I invented it with Prince Andrew in mind, but was overtaken by events. He didn’t get jailed.
My loss was amateur baker Jemma Melvin’s gain. On winning the competition she exclaimed: “That this quite humble trifle has won is quite surreal.”
Not really. Holding a competition to invent a pudding for the Queen to celebrate her time on the throne, now that’s the surreal thing.
The timing couldn’t be worse. With the cost of living crisis biting deep, families are struggling to put food on the table. Not the best time to rejoice in making puddings for the rich. I reckon the Queen should have been the one cooking up a people’s pud and having it delivered to the masses. As it was, this apparently open competition was clearly carefully managed to ensure Her Maj was not offended.
She’s fallen out with Harry, so any variations on ginger bread desserts would have been dumped straight away. Same goes for Meghan and anything American. There would be no royal doughnuts or apple pie that’s for sure.
Liz may have liked an Eton Mess, but Boris would have stepped in to prevent that. Too political. The sex scandal surrounding Prince Andrew would have ruled out the vast majority of entries with risque undertones. No tarts, no knickerbocker glories and certainly no spotted dick.
And given questions raised about the worth of the royal family, definitely no sponges. Queen Victoria got one, but those were different times.
Crumbles were ditched too. A monarchy crumble would be too near the bone.
This time round, they completely played safe and declared the winner to be a lemon and Swiss scroll amaretti trifle. Safe as houses. It had to be a Swiss roll … neutral innit?