The Hawaiian word of the day is
Po'ino.
It is misfortune or mishap.
Speaking of mishaps, Jayne Fresina has a special post ....
A TRIFLE MISHAP
by Jayne Fresina
In THE WICKED WEDDING OF MISS ELLIE VYNE the unfortunate heroine accidentally sits in a plate of trifle at a party and spends the remainder of the evening trying to hide her mishap. Of course, James Hartley, notorious rake and childhood nemesis, chooses this very same evening to ask Ellie to dance for the first time in their history. Whether or not she goes through with it and casts her trifled behind to the four winds, you'll have to read the book to find out!
Sourcebooks editors are stringent when it comes to historical accuracy, of course, so I had to make certain it was trifle that Ellie sat in and not some other dessert. I was 99% sure, but checking out that little fact did give me an excellent excuse to hunt for dessert recipes and before I knew it I was —just a trifle—distracted.
I knew Regency folk loved their syllabub and fruit creams, but there's something about the consistency of trifle that made it just the right thing for my clumsy heroine to endure. This got me thinking about Regency and Georgian puddings, because trifle happens to be a favorite of mine and - well- I think I'd be pretty upset if someone sat in mine.
Trifle has graced the English table for centuries, although in its earliest incarnations it appears to have been more like a "fool" or a cream. I had no idea exactly how old it was until I began digging around.
From Thomas Dawson's book The Goodhuswife's Jewell (1596) - "Take a pinte of thicke Creame, and season it with Sugar and Ginger, and Rosewater, so stirre it as you would then have it, and make it luke warme in a dish on a Chafingdish and coals, and after put it into a silver piece or bowle, and so serve it to the boorde."
In 1654, Joseph Cooper, who was once cook for Charles I, wrote a book called The Art of Cookery Refined and Augmented, in which he included a trifle-like pudding using Manchet (very fine bread). - "Slice a Manchet very thin and lay it in the bottom of a dish, and wet them with Sack, boyle Creame, with Eggs, and three or foure blades of Mace; season it with Rosewater and Sugar, stir it well together to prevent curdling; then pour it on the Bread and let it coole; then serve it up to the Table."
Then fruit got thrown into the mix in 1673 when Hanna Wolley wrote in The Gentlewoman's Companion - "A Norfolk-Fool. Take a quart of thick sweet Cream, and set it a-boiling in a clear scoured Skillet, with some large Mace and whole Cinamon; having boiled a little while, take the yolks of five or six Eggs beaten well and put to it; being off the fire, take out the Cinamon and Mace; the Cream being pretty thick, slice a fine Manchet into thin slices as many as will cover the bottom of the Dish, and then pour on the Cream; trim the Dish with carved Sippets; and stick it with sliced Dates and scrap Sugar all over it."
Sometimes the good old trifle is a humble dessert using leftovers from the pantry, sometimes it can be disguised as a more elegant creation. (If you happen to be Nigella or Giada, beaming from ear to ear as you whip a little something up in a stress-free kitchen). If you're like me, you throw it all in a glass dish and hope for the best. Perhaps the trifle's main appeal lies in the ability to be transformed with whatever you have on hand, and a little bit of imagination. And even I can say, it's easy to make. You can't really go wrong with a trifle. According to my expert sister, people are too lazy now to make proper trifle with jelly.
Over the years there have been intriguing desserts called tansies, flummeries, junkets and even hedgehog pudding (which I sincerely hope was just a name, not an ingredient!). But those puddings have mostly faded from the buffet table, leaving trifle the victor, in part, I suspect, because it's easy, frugal and tasty.
The Italians have their Zuppa Inglese or Tiramisu and the Scotts have their own version with whiskey (of course), Cranachan or Tipsy Laird. (Love that name—hmmm, inspiration! Should be on a romance novel cover). But the Brits have their lovely Trifle and I'm quite sure it'll be around forever.
Excerpt from THE WICKED WEDDING OF MISS ELLIE VYNE
Ellie was ten when she drew an elaborately curled ink moustache on a sleeping James Hartley’s face. Seventeen years later, she knew he still remembered the incident, particularly the humiliation of walking around for a full day with no one mentioning his strange appearance. Such a crime, to a man of his sizeable vanity, was unforgivable. Even worse that, she was a Vyne. Since her disreputable stepuncle once ran off with James’s mother, for an adulterous affair that caused the scandal of the century, Hartleys did not speak to Vynes or even acknowledge their existence if it could be helped. And vice versa. The feud was fiercely adhered to on either side. Therefore, seventeen years ago, young Ellie, with her mischievous pen and ink, had upset her adoptive family just as much as his.
She’d been urged, many times, to stay away from James Hartley, and suspected he was warned the same about her. All good advice and possibly well intentioned. Now to be summarily dismissed. Again. They just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other. She watched his approach in her peripheral vision.
Standing beside the potted palm, she’d just begun to get that chilling sensation again, of being followed and spied upon. It must be the effect of Hartley’s blue gaze on her shoulders, she decided, and shrugged it off quickly.
He thrust his way through the crowd, bumped into her with one hard shoulder, expelled a tired breath, and grumbled in her general direction, “Are you dancing?”
Spilled wine stained her borrowed evening gloves and seeped through to her skin. She looked up and immediately felt the familiar shiver of annoyance. It was quite disgusting that one man should have so much in his favor—all of it wasted.
Ellie Vyne or Ellie Phant? She heard those mocking words again in her mind as if he’d just uttered them aloud. Even the laughter still echoed around her head as it did all those years ago.
“Do I look as if I’m dancing?” she snapped.
“Do you intend to?”
“I made no plans one way or the other.”
He smiled thinly. “Perhaps you can decide now.”
“Why do you want to know my plans?” She fluttered her lashes in feigned ignorance. “What interest can they be to you?”
A heavier sigh squeezed out between his lips. “You know very well, Vyne, that I am asking you to dance.”
“With whom?”
“With me.”
“Well, you might have said. It’s quite simple, but you always have to complicate things. In your tiresome, arrogant English way I suppose you assumed I was waiting in absolute desperation for you to ask.” Although she was born in England, Ellie considered that purely an accident. She liked to think of herself as an American, like her mother.
“I don’t intend to stand here arguing with you for another five minutes, Vyne.”
Not waiting for her reply, James swiftly removed the empty glass from her hand, gave it to a passing footman, and gestured with a stiff bow of his towering form, for her to exit the room and join the line of couples currently gathered in the hall, where lack of furniture made it more suitable for dancing.
“I can’t,” she said, feeling hot, anxiously watching the security of her empty glass moving away.
“What’s the matter with you? What have you done now?”
“It’s not me. It’s the dress.” Her sister’s maid had done her best with the gown but, just a few moments ago, an entire seam of hasty stitches had snapped apart under her sleeve and down the side of her bosom. This required Ellie to keep her arm rigidly clasped to her side or else expose her chemise and corset to the room at large. Added to that, she’d accidentally sat in a dish of trifle half an hour ago, and that left a stain in a very unfortunate place. She was doing her best to hide and not move very much. Her sisters had disappeared, abandoning her soon after they all arrived at the party, but she’d been hoping one of them would come to find her so she could explain her predicament and leave.
Instead, James came along and suddenly, after all these years, wanted to dance with her.
His quizzical gaze now assessed the front of her gown.
With a low groan she lifted her arm to show the tear. His eyebrows arched high.
“And…” She turned, showing him the trifle stain that marked her sister’s lovely, white muslin frock.
James considered her decrepit state with all due solemnity.
“So you see,” she said, “I can’t dance with you.” For some reason she was close to weeping. It was most unlike her, and she had no excuse for it.
“I can assure you, Vyne, I’ve danced with women in far worse state. Is that the best you can do to get out of it? I always imagined you’d have far more intricate and nonsensical excuses at the ready to turn me down.”
The idea that he might ever have considered asking her to dance before could not have occurred to Ellie. Not in a thousand years.
He held out his arm. “I’m not going away, so you may as well dance with me. It’ll be over with before you know it.”
“That’s what they say before they pull teeth.” Still, she hesitated, feeling every eye upon her already—everyone waiting to scorn something about her. Sometimes she was able to overcome her self-conscious fears; sometimes, like tonight, when fate seemed determined to work against her, Ellie’s courage failed.
“Do you really care what they think, Vyne? I thought you were braver than that.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Hartley. You haven’t got trifle on your behind.”
“Aha! But I have had an ink moustache, thanks to you.” His eyes were very blue in the candlelight. “So this will make us even.”
Even? Apparently he chose to forget the insults he’d once thrown her way so casually over his shoulder. They were a long way from even.
© Jayne Fresina, Sourcebooks Casablanca, 2013
When a Scandalous Lady…
By night Ellie Vyne fleeces unsuspecting aristocrats as the dashing Count de Bonneville. By day she avoids her sisters' matchmaking schemes and dreams up torments for her childhood nemesis—the arrogant, far-too-handsome-for-his-own-good James Hartley. Her latest prank: "winning" the Hartley diamonds in a card game from James's mistress.
Steals from a Notorious Rake…
James finally has a lead on the thieving Count de Bonneville, tracking him to a disreputable inn. He bursts in on none other than the brazen, irritating, nearly naked Ellie Vyne. Convinced she is the count's mistress, James decides it's best to keep his enemies close. Very close. He must get those diamonds back, and seducing Ellie will be the perfect bait.
It Can Only End in a Wicked Wedding… Praise for The Wicked Wedding of Miss Ellie Vyne:
“[The characters] banter and quibble with comic perfection...” —Publishers Weekly
James finally has a lead on the thieving Count de Bonneville, tracking him to a disreputable inn. He bursts in on none other than the brazen, irritating, nearly naked Ellie Vyne. Convinced she is the count's mistress, James decides it's best to keep his enemies close. Very close. He must get those diamonds back, and seducing Ellie will be the perfect bait.
It Can Only End in a Wicked Wedding… Praise for The Wicked Wedding of Miss Ellie Vyne:
“[The characters] banter and quibble with comic perfection...” —Publishers Weekly
“Readers who adore wickedly funny, fast and sassy romances will delight in Fresina’s latest. The naughty desire-in-disguise theme, coupled with sharp, hilarious repartee, steals the reader’s heart...” —RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars
“Fresina brings a unique voice and perspective to the 1820s romance novel. Fans of Grace Burrowes and Amanda Quick will especially appreciate Fresina’s intriguing characters and humor.” —Booklist
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jayne Fresina sprouted up in England, the youngest in a family of four girls. Entertained by her father’s colorful tales of growing up in the countryside, and surrounded by opinionated sisters— all with far more exciting lives than hers— she’s always had inspiration for her beleaguered heroes and unstoppable heroines. Her next novel in the Sydney Dovedale regency romance series, Lady Mercy Danforthe Flirts with Scandal, will be in stores in June 2013. For more information, please visit jaynefresina.com and check out her blog: jaynefresinaromanceauthor.blogspot.com.
To Purchase The Wicked Wedding of Miss Ellie Vyne:
Amazon Barnes and Noble
Books-a-Million
Indigo/Chapters
IndieBound
Sourcebooks
Discover a New Love
Sourcebooks is giving away a print copy of THE WICKED WEDDING OF MISS ELLIE VYNE. To enter the giveaway,
1. Leave a comment about mishaps ... would you like to share a funny one? Oh, my life is a series of mishaps!
2. Comments are open through Saturday, February 9, 10 pm in Hawaii.
3. I'll post the winner on Sunday, February 10.
Mahalo,
Kim in Hawaii
I love learning all these Hawaiian words. I'm quite sure I'll have an opportunity to use Po'ino today! Thanks so much for having me back on your blog :)
ReplyDeleteMove over Kim, I think sometimes my life is a mishap to!
ReplyDeleteI have a lot of them too. But I'll never forget that day when this girl (a friend of my friend) asked me what I think of this particular guy. I told her that he was great and that he was crush. It was later on that I realized that he was her boyfriend. :P
ReplyDeleteI love the Hawaiian words. :)
ReplyDeleteI have lots of them... actually... but all too embarassing and they happened mostly when I was in school when I was super sensitivetoo...
I wouldn't know where to start with my mishaps, my life is also full of them.
ReplyDeleteMishaps are rarely fun during the moment but can be afterwards. Most of mine happened in school and I try to block them away like the time I had to present a project and couldn't stop giggling from nerves.
ReplyDeleteNot entering but just wanted to stop in and gush about how much I loved this book!!! Jayne has become an autobuy for me and each book just gets better and better :)
ReplyDeleteI seem to be the one in my family who's always having little mishaps--spilling food on clothes, running into furniture, etc. So I empathize with our heroine's predicament.
ReplyDeleteMost of my mishaps have to do with falling in public places. The type where it hurts but the embarrassment is worse, so you pretend you're fine, but you're really thinking, "OMG that totally hurt!"
ReplyDeleteI'm always bumping into things, but always manage to stop myself from tripping.
ReplyDeleteI followed my niece into the men's room at Stirling Castle just as a man was coming out of a stall. he ask if we were lost My niece said no we were looking for men in kilts.....
ReplyDeleteI so want to read this book Love trifle My Aunt made the Best.
have a good one Ann/alba
lol oh, so very many. Thinking of cooking I remember making a bundt cake for a fancy affair and when taking it out it stuck and broke into many pieces. There was no time to make something else so I broke it up into more pieces and added cool whip and ended up with a very nice dessert lol.
ReplyDeleteWalking into the wrong classroom full of students. It took me several long seconds to figure out that I was in the wrong class. LOL
ReplyDeleteI think my worst mishap was at an airport years ago. I accidentally went into the men's restroom instead of the women's. I was sitting on the pot when I heard a man and a little boy come in and do their business. I remember thinking at the time, "Why are they in here?" I at last realized it was all my doing. Luckily I got out of there without meeting anyone.
ReplyDeleteI once had something unbuttoned and it was a bit obvious.
ReplyDeleteMy mishap is like Cathy's. When I was traveling with my husband last year, we stopped at this truck stop and I headed to the rest room. I was used to the Ladies rest rooms being on a particular side, so headed in the door only to bump into a man coming out. Both of us looked to see who was in the wrong place! Of course, it was me...
ReplyDeleteI work at City Hall where we have a small art gallery and I was walking around looking at the art and completely missed a low pedestal with a skateboard on it (don't ask me how that's art). I tripped and fell flat, luckily only skinning my knee and hand. I jumped up and looked around to see if anyone saw me, picked up the skateboard and put it back on the pedestal, and walked away like nothing happened (except with a slight limp). I was so embarrassed and so glad no one saw me. :D
ReplyDeleteI have shown up for work on the wrong day. I have Friday and Saturday off, but one time I showed up on a Friday. I felt so dumb, but life happens.
ReplyDeleteThese mishaps are definitely something I can see happening to myself. I have always been very clumsy and fell down more times in my life that I want to think about. I drop things easily, spill things, etc. There are days when I think I should just go back to bed a try again tomorrow, lol. But I would have been in tears already if these things happened to me in a crowded ball.
ReplyDeleteI turned up for a job interview a week too early. (They gave me the job, because I seemed so keen & eager. )
ReplyDeleteAs to spills & falls & dropping things - I'm the Queen.
I once spilled ketchup on my chest. An almost round blob to the left. Right about where your, you know what, is placed. Didn't realize it till someone mentioned that I was bleeding. So embarrassing, it was many MANY hours after lunch!
ReplyDeleteI had recently put on a lot of weight an had only one bathing suit that fit. Since I live in Florida and love to swim in the Condo's pool that suit got a lot of wear. One day my son went to the pool with me. On the way back from our swim he handed me a towel and told me to wrap it around my waist. It seems that sitting on the rough edge of the pool over time will thin the material of the suit untill it is literally "see through". What a view I gave everyone from the back!!
ReplyDeleteLike Cathy P. above, I've also done the same thing. Not once, but twice. The last time was a few months ago, and I was just pulling my knickers down, when a man walked into my cubicle. Oh God, I was absolutely mortified, and didn't know where to put my face. I thought he was the one in the wrong bathroom - until I left immediately, and saw that it was the mens loo.
ReplyDeleteWell, count me in on the restroom booboo... been there and done that -- dang I do so hate it when the doors have wierd pictograms without words..
ReplyDeleteMy mother-in-law, trying to brown Baklava under the broiler, set it on fire. No dessert for our guests, but the dogs thought it was raining manna when hubby threw the smoldering pastry from the deck. (No mishaps with the dogs. They can be patient about letting foods cool.)
ReplyDeleteIn High school I had to walk into the guys locker room to get to my track coaches office...Yeah kinda weird yelling "girl coming in" before you walk in and then half the guys trying to "show off their stuff" Sad thing i would always turn beat red in the face because i would get so embarassed as i knew all the guys (small town/small school/Older brothers football friends. Sad thing is they would also yell out stuff like Jeannie Weannie wanna see my weannie... Thank you older brother for telling everyone my nickname from our parents because i was so tiny and didn't weigh anything. Uhhh older siblings.
ReplyDeletethink life's full of them
ReplyDeleteI'm the clumsy one in the family. I'm always breaking things (plates, glasses etc) & also the one who gets into the most car accidents. It's a standing joke in the family to expect a major one every 3 years.
ReplyDeleteHi Kim!
ReplyDeleteI guess you could say I'm not exactly the most coordinated person in the world and have been known to make a mi-step or two which amazes my husband since I was gymnast in High School!
When my boys were in grade school I became a Tupperware dealer so I could work at night when my husband was home to take care of our sons. One night when I went out to load my card with mounds of Tupperware in a huge bag - surprise I twisted my ankle! What to do? Somehow I convinced my husband to do the party for me.
He still tells the story of his stint as a Tupperware dealer and showing up at the party to the surprise of all the women and I swear it's true but they ended up doing the entire party for him and he had better sales than I ever did! He did make the mistake of telling the sailors he was serving with as an Aviation Ordnancemen during Vietnam.
For those of you who aren't familiar with what an ordnandeman is theyoperate and handle aviation ordnance equipment. They are responsible for the maintenance of guns, bombs, torpedoes, rockets, and missiles so he was used to "showing" off and working with things much bigger than a small Tupperware bowl!
Just the other day I feel up the steps with a cup of chicken noodle soup.
ReplyDeleteI've had lots of mishaps in my time, but I can't think of any funny ones at the moment.
ReplyDelete