Rhubarb and Ginger trifle

I love rhubarb. I especially love stewed rhubarb. I have in the past found myself standing with the fridge door open, teaspoon in hand, shovelling the stuff into my mouth just before going to bed after a trip to the pub. Or first thing in the morning. Or as I'm cooking dinner. I need little excuse. My parents visited a week ago and they bought with them a large bundle of the stuff from their garden, which will be some of the last as it's getting close to the end of it's season. A celebration of this fine vegetable was in order. I normally add a little ground ginger to my stewed rhubarb as the flavours of the two sit so well together. Chatting to my friend Paula, we came to the conclusion that stewed rhubarb could make a fine trifle, and it seems obvious to me to carry on the marriage of flavours I just mentioned. I flicked through a few recipe books and couldn't find such a trifle, so I had to make my own up. I won't write a full recipe out, as I can't be bothered to detail how to stew rhubarb or make custard and I'm sure you're more than capable of doing these things, or at least finding out how to. Instead, I'll discuss the layers, starting from the bottom up.

The Base : When I was little, we used to have McVitties Jamaican Ginger Cake with custard as a quick pudding; It's so beautifully sticky, gingery and comforting and I thought it would make an excellent trifle base. I cut it into slices about half an inch thick and lined the bottom of my trifle bowl with it, sprinkling over a good dash of Stone's Ginger Wine. No trifle is complete without a little booze.

The Fruit : Simple, stewed rhubarb, poured over the cake base whilst still hot. About six medium sticks of rhubarb, a few tablespoons of sugar, and a splash of water is all I used, cooking it for a little longer than normal, hoping that if it was more liquid it may soak into the sponge a little more easily.

The Custard : I made up my own custard using half a pint of cream, half a pint of milk, three egg yolks and four tablespoons of sugar. I left it to cool for as long as possible before pouring it on to the rhubarb so as to make sure it wasn't too runny.

The Cream : Half a pint of double cream, with a little of the syrup from a jar of stem ginger added for good measure, whipped until it drifted lightly, then spooned over the custard.

Decoration : Every trifle must be decorated. Here, I cut some stem ginger from the jar into little matchsticks and sprinkled them over rather haphazardly.

I don't know quite what to say. I think this is one of my proudest achievements in my limited cooking history; I thought it was fantastically rich and luxurious, the flavours sitting beautifully together, tempting me back for thirds. One to avoid if you're on a diet, though. That said, don't come to my house for dinner if you're on a diet.