A Trifle Dead: Cafe La Femme, Book 1 (24 page)

I mumbled something against Bishop’s mouth.

‘What?’ he said, drawing back a little to look at me with those drop-dead dark and gorgeous eyes of his.

‘Be careful what you wish for if you don’t know what you really want,’ I said, more clearly.

It was one of those things Dad used to say, when he suspected I was about to do something profoundly stupid.

Kissing now. Thinking later. Priorities, Tabitha!

T
his trifle differs
from most in that it uses biscuits (cookies) for the cake base instead of, well, cake! Biscuits are particularly good to use in a shot glass trifle, such as this, because they will normally soak up surrounding flavours faster than cake, without going overly mushy.

This trifle will work well with any plain dark chocolate biscuit—nothing too sweet. Arnott’s Choc Ripple Biscuits are ideal if you are pressed for time and want to make this trifle as simple as possible. However, if you want to get a bit fancy, you can also make your own chocolate biscuits, and use them instead. One recipe that works well in this trifle is Garret McCord’s Chocolate Cookies with Cocoa Nibs and Lime (see:
http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/chocolate_cookies_with_cocoa_nibs_and_lime/
). Making your own biscuits has the added advantage giving you the option to make both normal size biscuits, to chop and use in the trifle, plus tiny, half-sized, biscuits to decorate the top. They make a nice alternative to either kiwi fruit, candied cacao beans—and tiny biscuits are so cute!!

Makes 5 individual trifles, or around 15 shot glasses

P
reamble

Ingredients

One packet (approximately 250g) of shop bought plain chocolate biscuits or cookies, or an equivalent amount of homemade chocolate biscuits.

3 kiwi fruit

Juice of 1 lime

2 teaspoons caster sugar

300 mL (10 oz) thickened cream

Candied coca nibs for decoration (optional, see recipe below)

M
ethod

Mix lime juice and sugar.

Slice all three kiwi fruit into 5mm slices, and chop all except three or four slices very finely. Marinate in the lime sugar mixture for an hour or more. For the remaining slices, quarter each slice, then half each quarter into a triangle and reserve for decoration.

Chop two or three biscuits into 5mm chunks to use as the biscuits base, chopping additional biscuits as needed during assembly.

To assemble, alternate layers of biscuits, kiwi fruit, and cream, using approximately 1 teaspoon of each per layer (vary as desired or required by the size of your shot glass).

Decorate each trifle with candied cocoa nibs, a small cookie, or kiwi fruit as desired.

C
andied Cocoa Nibs

Adapted from

http://candy.about.com/od/chocolate/r/candiedcacaonib.htm

I
ngredients

50 grams (2 oz) cocoa nibs

30 grams (1 oz) sugar

1/2 teaspoon butter, softened

P
reparation

Line a baking tray with baking paper.

Place the butter in a dish within easy reach of the stove.

Put the nibs and the sugar in a small saucepan over a medium heat.

As the sugar begins to dissolve and stick together continually stir the mixture.

Cook until the sugar becomes a liquid. Remove from the heat and stir the butter in thoroughly.

Scrape the coated nibs onto the prepared baking sheet, separating them as much as possible. Allow them to cool at room temperature before breaking them apart by hand.

Store in an airtight container. Do not refrigerate.

C
herries and almonds
both have cyanide in them, but you would explode from the sheer volume of this trifle before you consumed enough cyanide to kill you. To make this trifle extra deadly, substitute ground cherry or apricot pits for some of the ground almonds.

Make sure the sponge cake you use is dry (not buttery) and if possible slightly stale. I use a bought sponge but if you want to make your own any plain sponge recipe will work as long as you make it in advance.

Makes 6 individual trifles, or around 18 shot glasses

I
ngredients

Cherry Jelly

2 cups apple juice

250g (9oz) whole cherries (fresh or frozen)

Sugar if required

2 leaves of titanium gelatine

M
arzipan

80g (3oz) ground almonds

½ cup caster sugar

½ cup water

¼ teaspoon almond essence

C
ustard

1 cup cream

1 cup milk

½ cup sugar

1 vanilla pod or 1 tablespoon of vanilla essence

2 tablespoons cornflour

1
sponge cake

P
repare the layers beforehand
. When assembling the trifle the custard, marzipan, and cherry jelly should be cool but not completely set.

C
herry
Jelly

Put the gelatine leaves in cold water to soak.

Place the juice and cherries in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook, covered, for around 20 minutes until the fruit is soft.

Press the fruit and juice though a fine sieve, then discard the seeds and skin.

Taste the cherries and add a small amount of sugar if necessary to make the cherry pulp slightly sweet.

Return the sieved cherry pulp and juice to the pan and warm until slightly higher than blood temperature.

Squeeze excess water from the gelatine leaves and stir into the cherry pulp; they should dissolve quickly.

M
arzipan

Combine the almonds, sugar and water in a saucepan.

Stir on low heat until the sugar is dissolved, then bring to the boil and cook until the mixture until thickens to the consistency.

Take it off the heat and let it cool slightly, then stir in the almond essence.

Taste and add more almond essence if desired.

C
ustard

Mix the cornflour with a bit of the cold milk to form a smooth liquid.

Combine the milk, cornflour mixture and cream with the sugar in a saucepan.

Split the vanilla bean in half lengthways and scrape out the seeds; add the pod and seeds to the pan.

Stirring continuously, bring the mixture to a low simmer and cook until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.

Taste and add more sugar if desired.

Strain to remove the vanilla pod and any stray lumps that may have formed.

T
o
assemble

When assembling the trifle, allow each layer to set slightly before adding the next layer.

Crumble sponge cake into the bottom of each glass—for individual trifles you need about ½ of a cup of cake each, for shot glasses about 1 tablespoon—and sprinkle with some of the cherry pulp (around ¼ cup for individual trifles, about ½ a tablespoon for shot glasses). The cake should be wet but not soaking; add more cake or cherry liquid as required.

Press the cake and jelly mixture down with the back of a spoon to even the surface, and put the glasses in the fridge to firm up a little.

Spoon about half the custard over the cake, then top the custard with the remainder of the cherry jelly, followed by the marzipan, then finally with the last of the custard on top.

Refrigerate until firm, at least a couple of hours but

preferably overnight.

A
n extract
from the novella set between A TRIFLE DEAD and DROWNED VANILLA in the Café La Femme series

It's practically inhumane not to stop for tea.

Gail Carriger

I
heard
him coming and didn’t bother to look up. His soft shoes moved around my kitchen, and I heard the click of the hot water jug, the slight rattle of teacups.

Helping himself. I might have objected to the presumption, but I heard the sound of two cups being laid out, and I’ll forgive many things of a bloke who makes me a cup of tea.

If he could bake, I’d probably have married him by now, but a girl’s got to have her standards.

It was Sunday, and Café La Femme was closed. I lay full length across the top of the café counter, reading my third Regency romance of the day while a presumptuous Scotsman took advantage of my kitchen, and I let him.

Meanwhile, Arabella danced with a devilish duke.

‘I remember ye dinnae care fer Earl Grey,’ said Stewart as he bumped his way through the swinging door from the kitchen with one mug and one teacup with a proper saucer. ‘This was in the canister marked ‘Tabitha Breakfast’, which seemed like a clue.’

We hadn’t seen each other in a week, but we didn’t bother with extraneous words—hello, how’ve you been. We cut straight to the banter and the exchange of comforting hot drinks.

I stretched my hand out for the teacup, which rattled only slightly on its saucer as I set it down beside me, not taking my eyes off the page. ‘Last chapter.’

‘Spoiler warnin’: they lived happily e’er after.’

‘You’re hilarious.’ I gave up on the book, though, letting it fall closed as I sat up, cross-legged on the counter, and inhaled from the cup. My favourite blend: green and black tea together with fruits and chrysanthemum. The fragrance makes me feel at home no matter where I am.

‘Smells a’right,’ said Stewart, peering at his own mug. He sat at a table some distance from me, under the mural of Wonder Woman, various Bond girls, and other vital icons of feminine glamour. I watched him swig the tea slowly and thoughtfully, like he was testing a glass of wine. ‘Mango?’ he said finally.

‘And peach.’

‘No’ bad. Wha’s it called?’

I smiled behind my mug. ‘Tabitha.’

‘Ye hae yer own tea?’

‘All great brands have to start somewhere. Was Earl Grey named after a real earl?’

‘I ’spect so.’

‘You don’t know?’ I returned to my book. ‘And here I thought you were an expert on earls. And dukes … the occasional marquess, but they’re not as popular as dukes, are they?’

Stewart’s brows drew together just a bit. He never liked me talking about his books. It was almost as if he expected me to constantly make fun of him for making a living writing romance novels. Well okay, I did occasionally, but only when I ran out of other things to make fun of him about. ‘Reading my books again, Tabitha?’

‘Hardly at all. I can’t rely on you for Regency. Your alter ego Diana Glass has only written a couple. You’re letting the side down.’

He shrugged. ‘Couldnae get my head around the historicals, tae be honest. The clothes are complicated.’

‘Nothing wrong with a corset. If a fellow can find his way under one of those, then you know he’s really interested.’ I gave him a sly look. ‘I quite enjoyed
His Highland Fling
.’

Stewart winced. ‘Please dinnae read tha’ one.’

‘Too late,’ I sang.

‘I wrote tha’ before I knew fer certain Highland romances are the worst of all cultural crimes against my people. Also, I hadnae got the technique doown.’

‘Oh, your cross-dressing Scottish countess had all kinds of techniques. It didn’t help me with my quest, though.’

‘So yer no’ just pawin’g through Diana Glass’s backlist to torment me?’

‘Of course not,’ I said, offended that he thought I’d go to so much trouble over him.

After all, I was in love with someone else. Completely and utterly headlong over someone who was not Stewart McTavish.

He looked uncomfortable for a moment, steeling himself for what he was going to say next. ‘So—’

‘So what?’ I was curious. He was usually so laidback he practically hovered off the ground. Anything that made him this awkward had to be interesting.

‘Well, ye know.’

‘I really don’t.’

Was I pregnant, dying, about to embark on my own career of writing bodice rippers? What on earth was he trying to say?

‘Yer no’ sleuthing again, are ye?’ Stewart blurted out.

I tried to hold back my physical reaction by staying very still. My effort was noticeable, to Stewart at least. ‘Sorry!’ he said.

‘No, I’m—’

‘I shouldnae—’

‘I’m fine.’ I snapped it out harder than I should have. I needed to be over this. I couldn’t be melting down when a friend so much as mentioned…

Here’s the thing. A month ago, I almost died. It happened because I thought that solving murder mysteries was a super fun game, when in fact the whole thing had been set up by a creepy stalker who knew—well, far too much about creepiness and stalkering, among other nasty talents.

This girl detective was very nearly girl in a body bag.

So no, I was not sleuthing again. And it would be really, really helpful if everyone in my life believed that.

I took a deep breath and started over. ‘It’s for a tea,’ I told Stewart. ‘High tea. I’m hosting a Regency-themed high tea for a fancy book launch next week, and I was looking for ideas. That’s all. And your books are completely useless for Regency baked goods, by the way. They’re all carriage chases and petticoats and some really quite amazing oral sex.’

Stewart’s ears went red. Why yes, I did embarrass him in order to make him forget about the other thing. That’s how I roll.

My name is Tabitha Darling and I am a riot at dinner parties.

‘Really,’ I went on. ‘The level of sexy detail was very impressive. I didn’t know they even knew about the clitoris in the late 1890s.’

‘I can recommend some authors,’ he said firmly, refusing to blush any harder. He swallowed his tea, one gulp at a time. ‘Ye might be better off with some o’ the classics. Georgette Heyer or Austen…’

‘I’m on to Beatrice Wilde now,’ I said, cutting him off. ‘Her lovers aren’t nearly as good in bed as yours, but their table manners are impeccable and I’ve written down at least twelve different kinds of cake.’ I waved
Devastated By The Duke
at him. ‘If you let me get to the end of the last chapter I might find out some more about authentic period sandwich fillings.’

Stewart squashed his face up into a thoroughly unpleasant expression. ‘I wouldnae bother about her books. She’s a right cow.’

I was startled at his vehemence. Stewart was as much of a gossip as me—one of the reasons we’d become friends so fast. But I rarely heard him say anything genuinely mean. ‘What on earth did she do to you?’ I said in surprise.

Stewart had an implacable look on his face now, and was completely ignoring his mug of tea. Apparently it couldn’t compete with his deep and devoted love affair with coffee. He peered at the stack of books I had piled up around me on the café counter. ‘Ye’ve a lot o’ her titles here, Tabitha.’

‘I didn’t realise it was such a
faux pas
. Are all you romance authors like this? Terribly jealous of each other? Do you duel at dawn with laptops? Is this a
gang war
?’

‘Fourteen,’ he said, counting the titles. ‘Why d’ye hae fourteen Beatrice Wilde books, Tabitha? They look brand new: overboard fer one high tea, even by yer standards.’

‘They were free,’ I said defensively. ‘Why do you care?’

Stewart turned towards me then, and I saw how genuinely furious he was. He was practically vibrating.

Maybe it was the Regency romances I had been uploading into my brain all morning, but I had the urge to say something like ‘la, sir,’ and hit him with my fan. If I had a fan.

Hitting him with
Devastated By the Duke
probably would not have the same effect.

‘Tabitha,’ he said ominously. ‘Whose book launch are ye hosting wi’ this Regency high tea?’

He had figured it out already, and I had figured out that he had figured it out, and he was standing very, very close to me. I really shouldn’t be so turned on right now.

Damn my problematic attraction to cranky men.

‘You don’t have to be invited if you don’t want to,’ I said, trying desperately not to think about the time he kissed me, right here, over the café counter. We never, ever talked about the kiss.

‘Och,’ Stewart said, biting out the words like I had wounded him. ‘If Beatrice Wilde is gonnae be here, ye can bet I will be, too.’

He marched straight out the front door, leaving the bell jangling in his wake.