There are very few sweet dishes which I relish saying as much as this one. Knickerbocker Glory. Just the very pronunciation of it makes me snigger. To be honest, I’m not such a great fan of the actual dish, but I really don’t think that matters.
For those of you uninitiated in the Knickerbocker Glory, it as basically a dish of fruit, ice cream, squirty cream, sweet red sauce, crushed nuts, chocolate sprinkles and, if you’re very lucky, a wafer biscuit in the shape of a fan.
What do you mean you’ve never heard of squirty cream??
Squirty cream, for all of you who have obviously lead a sheltered life, is cream out of a can, which isn’t really cream at all, but when you press the nozzle an aerated white substance speeds out with gusto, declaring itself to be none other than whipped cream.
Now then, if we turn our attention for a moment to the ‘fruit’ in the dish, if you are trundling down the traditional route of a Knickerbocker Glory, it really should be fruit from a tin, canned circa 1957, where there are familiar colours of pineapple, peach, cherry (normally only one in the tin) and perhaps a couple of other fruits on the yellow/orange spectrum, all cut into squares, and sloshed around in a sweet syrup affair.
However, I must warn you now, although these fruits are visually interpreting their fresh counterparts, in actuality they all just taste of sweet.
This, combined with the vanilla ice cream etc. is all served in a tall, fluted glass – almost shaped like a mini vase – and served with a very long handled tea spoon. If you are very lucky, you can still pick up one of these gems at the seaside.
However, if you have not had the seaside pleasure, may I recommend you combine your own delectable delight in a glass? The serving of a Knickerbocker Glory is almost as much fun as assembling it.
Just don’t expect your guests to eat it all.